The CARIBBEAN: ITS CULTURE SERIES ONE VOLUME V A pubhlication, of the SCHOOL OF INTER-A MERICAN STUDIES which contatins the papers delivered at the fifth contference o the Caribbehel atit the University o~f Florida, Decembert 2, 3,,tand 4, 1954. The CARIBBEAN: ITS CULTURE The CARIBBEAN: ITS CULTURE SERIES ONE VOLUME V SERIES ONE VOLUME V A pub~icattion of te SCHOOL OF INTER-AMERICAN STUDIES Caibbean held attthe Universityof Florid,tDcember 23,an,t1954. A pubctiontttt of the SCHOOL OF INTER-AMERICAN STUDIES Cartibbeant held att tte Untiversty of Florid, Decembetrt 2, 3, an~d 4, 1954. T H E WALTER B . F R A S E R PUBLICATION FUND T H E WALTER B . F R A S E R PUBLICATION FUND T H E WALTER B . F R A S E R PUBLICATION FUND  , _ 1 _- _ _:_ __ - -= a ------------- , ,_ _- _= a . __ _,, _ :- s - . _ _ , -- - \ ,_, __ ., ------_ _ _ T-- . R .. < __ >- - . . - - - _ . ,, ,_ : . .. _, _ -; . ,_ - ------------------ - _ \; _ >_ : -_ -- _ ,_ .. ,. --- _y_ _.. ,_ ._ __ ,___ c__- ._ \ , ,_ - , - -- ..z The CARIBBEAN: ITS CULTURE The CARIBBEAN: ITS CULTURE The CARIBBEAN: ITS CULTURE edited by A. Curtis Wilgus edited by A. Curtis Wilgus edited by A. Curtis Wilgus C 1955 UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA PRESS Gainesville 1955 UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA PRESS Gainesville 1955 UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA PRESS Gainesville  Copyright, 1955, by the UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA ALL~ RIGHTS RESERVED A University of Florida Press Book L. C. Cataloguse Cord Numnber: 51-12532 Copyright, 1955, by the UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA ALLs RoGHTS RESEVEDv Copyright, 1955, by tho UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA ALL RIGHTSs RESERVEDns A University of Florida Preos Book L. C. Catalogue Cord Numsber: 51-12532 A University of Florida Press Book L. C. Catalogse Cord Numsber: 51-12532 Printed by Printed by THE MILLERnPRESS JACKSONVILLE, FLORIDA Printed by THE MILLERn PRSS JACKoSONVIEss, FLORIDA THE MILLERn PRSS JACKSONVILLEv, FORnsoA  Contributors Contributors Contributors FLORENCE ARQUIN, Painter, Photographer, and Lecturer, Chicago JAIME BENITEZ, Chancellor, University of Puerto Rico BENJAMiN A. COHEN, Assistant Secretary-General for Public Information, United Nations FEDERICO DE ONIs, Director, Department of Hispanic Studies, University of Puerto Rico JORGE FIDEL DUR6N, Rector, University of Honduras DAVID K. EASTON, Librarian, Caribbean Commission, Trinidad Joss G6MEZ-SICRE, Chief, Visual Arts Section, Pan American Union KENNETH HOLLAND, President, Institute of International Edu- cation, New York MARJORIE C. JOHNSTON, Specialist, Comparative Education, U. S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare LIsA LEKIS, Dancer, Writer, and Lecturer, Gainesville, Florida PAUL S. LIETZ, Chairman, Department of History, Loyola Uni- versity, Chicago JOAQUfN NIN-CULMELL, Department of Music, University of California, Berkeley ANDREW C. PEARSE, Director, Local Studies Program, Univer- sity College of the West Indies, Trinidad ADRIAN RECINOs, Writer, Lecturrer, and Diplomat, Guatemala J. WAYNE REITZ, President, University of Florida v FLORENCE ARQUIN, Painter, Photographer, and Lecturer, Chicago JAIME BENiTEZ, Chancellor, University of Puerto Rico BENJAMiN A. COHEN, Assistant Secretary-General for Public Information, United Nations FEDERICO DE ONis, Director, Department of Hispanic Studies, >^ University of Puerto Rico JORGE FIDEL DUR6N, Rector, University of Honduras DAVID K. EASTON, Librarian, Caribbean Commission, Trinidad Jost G6MEZ-SICRE, Chief, Visual Arts Section, Pan American Union KENNETH HOLLAND, President, Institute of International Edu- cation, New York MARJORIE C. JOHNSTON, Specialist, Comparative Education, U. S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare LIsA LEKIS, Dancer, Writer, and Lecturer, Gainesville, Florida PAUL S. LIETZ, Chairman, Department of History, Loyola Uni- versity, Chicago JOAQUiN NIN-CULMELL, Department of Music, University of California, Berkeley ANDREw C. PEARSE, Director, Local Studies Program, Univer- sity College of the West Indies, Trinidad S ADRIAN RECINOs, Writer, Lecturrer, and Diplomat, Guatemala J. WAYNE REITZ, President, University of Florida FLORENCE ARQUIN, Painter, Photographer, and Lecturer, Chicago JAIME BENiTEZ, Chancellor, University of Puerto Rico BENJAMIN A. COHEN, Assistant Secretary-General for Public Information, United Nations FEDERICO DE ONIS, Director, Department of Hispanic Studies, '. University of Puerto Rico JORGE FIDEL DUR6N, Rector, University of Honduras DAVID K. EASTON, Librarian, Caribbean Commission, Trinidad Joss G6MEz-SICRE, Chief, Visual Arts Section, Pan American Union KENNETH HOLLAND, President, Institute of International Edu- cation, New York MARJORIE C. JOHNSTON, Specialist, Comparative Education, U. S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare LISA LEKIS, Dancer, Writer, and Lecturer, Gainesville, Florida PAUL S. LtrzT, Chairman, Department of History, Loyola Uni- versity, Chicago JOAQUfN NIN-CULMELL, Department of Music, University of California, Berkeley ANDREW C. PEARSE, Director, Local Studies Program, Univer- sity College of the West Indies, Trinidad V ADRIAN RECINOS, Writer, Lecturer, and Diplomat, Guatemala J. WAYNE REITZ, President, University of Florida v  vi The Caribbean W. STANLEY RYCROFT, Secretary for Latin America, The Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, New York ANiBAL SANCHEz-REULET, Chief, Division of Philosophy, Let- ters, and Sciences, Pan American Union SCOTT SEEGERs, Editor, Writer, and Lecturer, McLean, Virginia S. S. STEINBERG, Dean of the College of Engineering, University of Maryland Luis VERA, Assistant Chief, Division of Housing and Planning, Pan American Union WILLIAM A. WEBER, Manager, Gulf Division, Alcoa Steamship Company, Inc., New Orleans A. CURTIS WILGUs, Director, School of Inter-American Studies, University of Florida vi The Caribbean W. STANLEY RYCROFT, Secretary for Latin America, The Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, New York ANiOAL SANCHEz-REULET, Chief, Division of Philosophy, Let- ters, and Sciences, Pan American Union SCOTT SEEGERs, Editor, Writer, and Lecturer, McLean, Virginia S. S. STEINBERG, Dean of the College of Engineering, University of Maryland LUis VERA, Assistant Chief, Division of Housing and Planning, Pan American Union WILLIAM A. WEBER, Manager, Gulf Division, Alcoa Steamship Company, Inc., New Orleans A. CURTIs WILGUs, Director, School of Inter-American Studies, University of Florida vi The Caribbean W. STANLEY RYCROFT, Secretary for Latin America, The Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, New York ANIBAL SANCHEz-REULET, Chief, Division of Philosophy, Let- ters, and Sciences, Pan American Union SCoTT SEEGERs, Editor, Writer, and Lecturer, McLean, Virginia S. S. STEINBERG, Dean of the College of Engineering, University of Maryland LUis VERA, Assistant Chief, Division of Housing and Planning, Pan American Union WILLIAM A. WEBER, Manager, Gulf Division, Alcoa Steamship Company, Inc., New Orleans A. CURTIS WILGUs, Director, School of Inter-American Studies, University of Florida  Foreword Foreword Foreword IN OUR SERIES of annual Caribbean Conferences we have developed a pattern of looking at the individual problems, as well as at the integrated and related ones, of the countries of the area. At times these problems are considered in relation to those found in other parts of Latin America, but more often they are dealt with in a comparative manner by countries within the region. By holding these annual gatherings of experts, a contribution to knowledge is made which will prove of value to students, teachers, businessmen, and government officials. Naturally, in symposiums such as these, many topics of necessity must be omitted. An examination of volumes thus far published reveals that these meetings accomplish their collective objectives by presenting a reasonably complete picture of civilization and development in the Caribbean. These contributions should be considered not only as individual papers presented orally in a series of meetings, but also as a series of studies in the form of a permanent printed record. We are gratified to note that in the United States there appears to be an increasing general concern with the Caribbean area and that there is, in consequence, an increasing interest in our conferences and in the volumes that result. This supports our belief that the State of Florida is in a strategic position to take advantage of this interest and to project and plan carefully future conferences over the years to meet the needs of the people of this State and elsewhere, who are attracted by the significance of Caribbean culture and development. Such conferences are a valuable adjunct to our academic offerings in the University of Florida, which include an Inter-American Area Study Program coordinated by the School of Inter-American Studies. Once more the University of Florida wishes to thank the vii IN OUR SERIES of annual Caribbean Conferences we have developed a pattern of looking at the individual problems, as well as at the integrated and related ones, of the countries of the area. At times these problems are considered in relation to those found in other parts of Latin America, but more often they are dealt with in a comparative manner by countries within the region. By holding these annual gatherings of experts, a contribution to knowledge is made which will prove of value to students, teachers, businessmen, and government officials. Naturally, in symposiums such as these, many topics of necessity must be omitted. An examination of volumes thus far published reveals that these meetings accomplish their collective objectives by presenting a reasonably complete picture of civilization and development in the Caribbean. These contributions should be considered not only as individual papers presented orally in a series of meetings, but also as a series of studies in the form of a permanent printed record. We are gratified to note that in the United States there appears to be an increasing general concern with the Caribbean area and that there is, in consequence, an increasing interest in our conferences and in the volumes that result. This supports our belief that the State of Florida is in a strategic position to take advantage of this interest and to project and plan carefully future conferences over the years to meet the needs of the people of this State and elsewhere, who are attracted by the significance of Caribbean culture and development. Such conferences are a valuable adjunct to our academic offerings in the University of Florida, which include an Inter-American Area Study Program coordinated by the School of Inter-American Studies. Once more the University of Florida wishes to thank the vii IN OUR SERIES of annual Caribbean Conferences we have developed a pattern of looking at the individual problems, as well as at the integrated and related ones, of the countries of the area. At times these problems are considered in relation to those found in other parts of Latin America, but more often they are dealt with in a comparative manner by countries within the region. By holding these annual gatherings of experts, a contribution to knowledge is made which will prove of value to students, teachers, businessmen, and government officials. Naturally, in symposiums such as these, many topics of necessity must be omitted. An examination of volumes thus far published reveals that these meetings accomplish their collective objectives by presenting a reasonably complete picture of civilization and development in the Caribbean. These contributions should be considered not only as individual papers presented orally in a series of meetings, but also as a series of studies in the form of a permanent printed record. We are gratified to note that in the United States there appears to be an increasing general concern with the Caribbean area and that there is, in consequence, an increasing interest in our conferences and in the volumes that result. This supports our belief that the State of Florida is in a strategic position to take advantage of this interest and to project and plan carefully future conferences over the years to meet the needs of the people of this State and elsewhere, who are attracted by the significance of Caribbean culture and development. Such conferences are a valuable adjunct to our academic offerings in the University of Florida, which include an Inter-American Area Study Program coordinated by the School of Inter-American Studies. Once more the University of Florida wishes to thank the vii  viii The Caribbean Aluminum Company of America which, through the Alcoa Steam- ship Company, Inc., helps to make these conferences possible and successful. J. WAYNE REITZ, President University of Florida viii The Caribbean viii The Caribbean Aluminum Company of America which, through the Alcoa Steam- ship Company, Inc., helps to make these conferences possible and successful. J. WAYNE REITZ, President University of Florida Aluminum Company of America which, through the Alcoa Steam- ship Company, Inc., helps to make these conferences possible and successful. J. WAYNE REITZ, President University of Florida  Contents Contents Contents Map of Caribbean Area . . . . . . . . Frontispiece List of Contributors . . . . . . . . . . . . v Foreword-J. WAYNE REITZ Vii Introduction-A. CURTIS WILGUS . . . . . . . . Xi Map of Caribbean Area . . . . . . . . Frontispiece List of Contributors . . . . . . . . . . . . v Foreword-J. WAYNE REITZ . . . . . . . . . Vii Introduction-A. CURTIS WILGUS . . . . . . . . Xi Part I - THE ARTS 1. Florence Arquin: TWO ASPECTS OF CARIBBEAN ART: MEXICO AND HAITI . .... 2. Jos6 G6mez-Siere: CARIBBEAN SCULPTURE TODAY 3. Luis Vera: MAN AND LANDSCAPE IN CARIBBEAN ARCHITECTURE . . Part II - MUSIC AND DRAMA 4. Joaquin Nin-Culmell: CONTEMPORARY CARIBBEAN COMPOSERS . .. 5. Lisa Lekis: THE DANCE AS AN EXPRESSION OF CARIBBEAN FOLKLORE . .. 6. Federico de OniS: MARTi AND THE CARIBBEAN THEATER . .. . , Part III - LITERATURE 7. Anibal SAnchez-Reulet: ESSAYISTS IN THE CARIBBEAN . .M. , .E.O 8. Scott Seegers: PROBLEMS OF FREEDOM OF THE PRESS IN THE CARIBBEAN,. . 3 15 21 31 43 74 87 97 Part I - THE ARTS 1. Florence Arquin: TWO ASPECTS OF CARIBBEAN ART: MEXICO AND HAITI . .... 2. Jos6 Gmez-Siere: CARIBBEAN SCULPTURE TODAY 3. Luis Vera: MAN AND LANDSCAPE IN CARIBBEAN ARCHITECTURE . . Part II - MUSIC AND DRAMA 4. Joaquin Nin-Culmell: CONTEMPORARY CARIBBEAN COMPOSERS . .. 5. Lisa Lebis: THE DANCE AS AN EXPRESSION OF CARIBBEAN FOLKLORE . .. 6. Federico de Onis: MARTi AND THE CARIBBEAN THEATER . . .. Part III - LITERATURE 7. Anibal Sdncbez-Reulet: ESSAYISTS IN THE CARIBBEAN . .M. . .B.O 8. Scott Seegers: PROBLEMS OF FREEDOM OF THE PRESS IN THE CARIBBEAN. .. 3 15 21 31 43 74 87 97 Map of Caribbean Area . . . . . . . . Frontispiece List of Contributors . . . . . . . . . . . . v Foreword-J. WAYNE REITZ . . . . . . . . . Vii Introduction--A. CURTIS WILGUS . . . . . . . . Xi Part I - THE ARTS 1. Florence Arquin: TWO ASPECTS OF CARIBBEAN ART: MEXICO AND HAITI.... 3 2. Jos6 Gmez-Sicre: CARIBBEAN SCULPTURE TODAY . 15 3. Luis Vera: MAN AND LANDSCAPE IN CARIBBEAN ARCHITECTURE . . . 21 Part II - MUSIC AND DRAMA 4. Joaquin Nin-Culmell: CONTEMPORARY CARIBBEAN COMPOSERS . . . . 31 5. Lisa Lekis: THE DANCE AS AN EXPRESSION OF CARIBBEAN FOLKLORE . . . . 43 6. Federico de Onis: MARTi AND THE CARIBBEAN THEATER . . . 74 Part III - LITERATURE 7. Anibal Sinchez-Reulet: ESSAYISTS IN THE CARIBBEAN . ... 87 8. Scott Seegers: PROBLEMS OF FREEDOM OF THE PRESS IN THE CARIBBEAN. . . 97 Part IV - EDUCATION 9. Marjorie C. Johnston: LIBERAL EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN. . . 109 ix Part IV - EDUCATION 9. Marjorie C. Johnston: LIBERAL EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN. . . 109 ix Part IV - EDUCATION 9. Marjorie C. Johnston: LIBERAL EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN.. . 109  x The Caribbean 10. Andrew C. PearSe: VOCATIONAL AND COMMUNITY EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN . . . 118 11. S. S. Steinberg: ENGINEERING EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN.. . 136 x The Caribbean 10. Andrew C. Pearse: VOCATIONAL AND COMMUNITY EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN . . . 118 11. S. S. Steinberg: ENGINEERING EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN.. . 136 x The Caribbean 10. Andrew C. PearSe: VOCATIONAL AND COMMUNITY EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN . . 118 11. S. S. Steinberg: ENGINEERING EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN.. . 136 Part V - RELIGION 12. Paul S. Lietz: THE ROLE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CARIBBEAN LIFE .. 13. W. Stanley Rycroft: THE CONTRIBUTION OF PROTESTANTISM IN THE CARIBBEAN . 14. Adrian Recinos: RELIGION AND CULTURE IN THE CARIBBEAN . .. Part VI - CULTURAL CONCEPTS 15. William A. Weber: CULTURE AND COMMERCE IN THE CARIBBEAN . .. 16. Jorge Fidel Dur6n: CULTURE AND THE ECONOMY IN HONDURAS .., 17. Jaime Benitez: CULTURAL VALUES IN A FRONTIER: UNIVERSITY SERVICES IN PUERTO RICO . 18. Benjamin A. Cohen: CULTURAL INTEGRATION IN THE CARIBBEAN . .. 19. Kenneth Holland: THE DEVELOPMENT OF CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE AMERICAS . 20. David K. Easton: SOURCES FOR THE STUDY OF CARIBBEAN CULTURE . . Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149 158 169 177 184 196 208 217 236 271 Part V - RELIGION 12. Paul S. Lietz: THE ROLE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CARIBBEAN LIFE .. 13. W. Stanley Rycroft: THE CONTRIBUTION OF PROTESTANTISM IN THE CARIBBEAN . 14. Adrian Recinos: RELIGION AND CULTURE IN THE CARIBBEAN . .. Part VI - CULTURAL CONCEPTS 15. William A. Weber: CULTURE AND COMMERCE IN THE CARIBBEAN . .. 16. Jorge Fidel Dur6n: CULTURE AND THE ECONOMY IN HONDURAS . . 17. Jaime Benitez: CULTURAL VALUES IN A FRONTIER: UNIVERSITY SERVICES IN PUERTO RICO . 18. Benjamin A. Cohen: CULTURAL INTEGRATION IN THE CARIBBEAN . .. 19. Kenneth Holland: THE DEVELOPMENT OF CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE AMERICAS . 20. David K. Easton: SOURCES FOR THE STUDY OF CARIBBEAN CULTURE . . Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149 158 . 169 . 177 184 . 196 * 208 . 217 . 236 . 271 Part V - RELIGION 12. Paul S. Lietz: THE ROLE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CARIBBEAN LIFE .. 13. W. Stanley Rycroft: THE CONTRIBUTION OF PROTESTANTISM IN THE CARIBBEAN . 14. Adrian Recinos: RELIGION AND CULTURE IN THE CARIBBEAN . .. Part VI - CULTURAL CONCEPTS 15. William A. Weber: CULTURE AND COMMERCE IN THE CARIBBEAN . .. 16. Jorge Fidel Dur6n: CULTURE AND THE ECONOMY IN HONDURAS . . 17. Jaime Benitez: CULTURAL VALUES IN A FRONTIER: UNIVERSITY SERVICES IN PUERTO RICO . 18. Benjamin A. Cohen: CULTURAL INTEGRATION IN THE CARIBBEAN . .. 19. Kenneth Holland: THE DEVELOPMENT OF CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE AMERICAS . 20. David K. Easton: SOURCES FOR THE STUDY OF CARIBBEAN CULTURE . . Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149 158 169 177 184 196 208 217 236 271  Introduction Introduction Introduction THE PAPERS IN THIS VOLUME examine some aspects of the culture of the Caribbean area. They do not cover every cultural topic, nor do they pretend to exhaust the subjects of which they treat. Each individual has presented material which is of special individual interest. And, as in all symposiums, many hiatuses exist in subject matter. But the reader, when he com- pletes this book, should have a much better understanding of the civilization of the Caribbean area than he once had. One thread runs through the whole pattern of Latin American cultural life: education. Perhaps, therefore, a brief summary of educational origins, characteristics, and trends in Spanish Amer- ica may serve as a general background picture on which the pres- ent regional discussion of cultural and intellectual conditions can be painted. In the following discussion, consequently, a number of pertinent fundamental facts are presented as a basis for achiev- ing a clearer understanding of present-day educational conditions in the Spanish American countries. I. Backgrounds From the earliest days in the Spanish colonies, education was carried on by the Church through the religious orders and the secular priests. In the sixteenth century the principal religious orders engaged in educational activities were the Franciscans, the Dominicans, the Augustinians, the Carmelites, the Hieronymites, and the Jesuits. When these missionaries arrived in America, they founded missions, convents, monasteries, and schools in great numbers. In Mexico alone at the end of the sixteenth cen- tury, there were probably four hundred monasteries belonging to the regular clergy, of which the Franciscans controlled one THE PAPERS IN THIS VOLUME examine some aspects of the culture of the Caribbean area. They do not cover every cultural topic, nor do they pretend to exhaust the subjects of which they treat. Each individual has presented material which is of special individual interest. And, as in all symposiums, many hiatuses exist in subject matter. But the reader, when he com- pletes this book, should have a much better understanding of the civilization of the Caribbean area than he once had. One thread runs through the whole pattern of Latin American cultural life: education. Perhaps, therefore, a brief summary of educational origins, characteristics, and trends in Spanish Amer- ica may serve as a general background picture on which the pres- ent regional discussion of cultural and intellectual conditions can be painted. In the following discussion, consequently, a number of pertinent fundamental facts are presented as a basis for achiev- ing a clearer understanding of present-day educational conditions in the Spanish American countries. I. Backgrounds From the earliest days in the Spanish colonies, education was carried on by the Church through the religious orders and the secular priests. In the sixteenth century the principal religious orders engaged in educational activities were the Franciscans, the Dominicans, the Augustinians, the Carmelites, the Hieronymites, and the Jesuits. When these missionaries arrived in America, they founded missions, convents, monasteries, and schools in great numbers. In Mexico alone at the end of the sixteenth cen- tury, there were probably four hundred monasteries belonging to the regular clergy, of which the Franciscans controlled one THE PAPERS IN THIS VOLUME examine some aspects of the culture of the Caribbean area. They do not cover every cultural topic, nor do they pretend to exhaust the subjects of which they treat. Each individual has presented material which is of special individual interest. And, as in all symposiums, many hiatuses exist in subject matter. But the reader, when he com- pletes this book, should have a much better understanding of the civilization of the Caribbean area than he once had. One thread runs through the whole pattern of Latin American cultural life: education. Perhaps, therefore, a brief summary of educational origins, characteristics, and trends in Spanish Amer- ica may serve as a general background picture on which the pres- ent regional discussion of cultural and intellectual conditions can be painted. In the following discussion, consequently, a number of pertinent fundamental facts are presented as a basis for achiev- ing a clearer understanding of present-day educational conditions in the Spanish American countries. I. Backgrounds From the earliest days in the Spanish colonies, education was carried on by the Church through the religious orders and the secular priests. In the sixteenth century the principal religious orders engaged in educational activities were the Franciscans, the Dominicans, the Augustinians, the Carmelites, the Hieronymites, and the Jesuits. When these missionaries arrived in America, they founded missions, convents, monasteries, and schools in great numbers. In Mexico alone at the end of the sixteenth cen- tury, there were probably four hundred monasteries belonging to the regular clergy, of which the Franciscans controlled one  xii The Caribbean hundred and sixty-six. Connected with many of these were schools, because wherever the missionaries went they assembled natives into communities in order better to convert, civilize, and educate them. In 1529 the College of San Juan de Letrdn was opened in Mexico City for Spaniards and Indians, and about seven years later the College of Santa Cruz was established for Indian boys. There, surprisingly enough, instruction was given in such sub- jects as Latin, philosophy, music, medicine, and the native lan- guages. In 1538 the University of Santo Tomas de Aquino and, in 1540, the University of Santiago de la Paz were founded in Santo Domingo, but instruction in these institutions was elemen- tary at best and confined largely to the Indians. Finally, in 1551, Charles V established the Royal University in Mexico City (opened in 1553) and the University of San Marcos at Lima (opened in 1571) for the purpose of giving advanced instruction in theology, sciences, languages, history, and anthropology. The universities founded in the Spanish colonies were gen- erally copied after the University of Salamanca in Spain. This institution, the oldest on the peninsula, was founded about 1230 by Alfonso IX of Le6n, and refounded about 1242 by Saint Ferdi- nand of Castile. Almost immediately (1252-1282) it gained wealth and reputation under the patronage of Alfonso X, when its schools of canon law and civil law became renowned. In the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries it became one of the great- est universities in Europe, but it began to decline about 1550 at the height of the Spanish conquest in America. While the University of Salamanca was the best known, there were many other important Spanish institutions. Indeed, by 1619 there were thirty-two so-called universities in Spain. The University of Alcald de Henares, founded in 1508 by Cardinal Cisneros, was second in importance to Salamanca. Cisneros had attended the University of Salamanca and had patterned the new Xii The Caribbean xii The Caribbean hundred and sixty-six. Connected with many of these were schools, because wherever the missionaries went they assembled natives into communities in order better to convert, civilize, and educate them. In 1529 the College of San Juan de Letran was opened in Mexico City for Spaniards and Indians, and about seven years later the College of Santa Cruz was established for Indian boys. There, surprisingly enough, instruction was given in such sub- jects as Latin, philosophy, music, medicine, and the native lan- guages. In 1538 the University of Santo Tomas de Aquino and, in 1540, the University of Santiago de la Paz were founded in Santo Domingo, but instruction in these institutions was elemen- tary at best and confined largely to the Indians. Finally, in 1551, Charles V established the Royal University in Mexico City (opened in 1553) and the University of San Marcos at Lima (opened in 1571) for the purpose of giving advanced instruction in theology, sciences, languages, history, and anthropology. The universities founded in the Spanish colonies were gen- erally copied after the University of Salamanca in Spain. This institution, the oldest on the peninsula, was founded about 1230 by Alfonso IX of Le6n, and refounded about 1242 by Saint Ferdi- nand of Castile. Almost immediately (1252-1282) it gained wealth and reputation under the patronage of Alfonso X, when its schools of canon law and civil law became renowned. In the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries it became one of the great- est universities in Europe, but it began to decline about 1550 at the height of the Spanish conquest in America. While the University of Salamanca was the best known, there were many other important Spanish institutions. Indeed, by 1619 there were thirty-two so-called universities in Spain. The University of Alcald de Henares, founded in 1508 by Cardinal Cisneros, was second in importance to Salamanca. Cisneros had attended the University of Salamanca and had patterned the new hundred and sixty-six. Connected with many of these were schools, because wherever the missionaries went they assembled natives into communities in order better to convert, civilize, and educate them. In 1529 the College of San Juan de Letrin was opened in Mexico City for Spaniards and Indians, and about seven years later the College of Santa Cruz was established for Indian boys. There, surprisingly enough, instruction was given in such sub- jects as Latin, philosophy, music, medicine, and the native lan- guages. In 1538 the University of Santo Tomis de Aquino and, in 1540, the University of Santiago de la Paz were founded in Santo Domingo, but instruction in these institutions was elemen- tary at best and confined largely to the Indians. Finally, in 1551, Charles V established the Royal University in Mexico City (opened in 1553) and the University of San Marcos at Lima (opened in 1571) for the purpose of giving advanced instruction in theology, sciences, languages, history, and anthropology. The universities founded in the Spanish colonies were gen- erally copied after the University of Salamanca in Spain. This institution, the oldest on the peninsula, was founded about 1230 by Alfonso IX of Leon, and refounded about 1242 by Saint Ferdi- nand of Castile. Almost immediately (1252-1282) it gained wealth and reputation under the patronage of Alfonso X, when its schools of canon law and civil law became renowned. In the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries it became one of the great- est universities in Europe, but it began to decline about 1550 at the height of the Spanish conquest in America. While the University of Salamanca was the best known, there were many other important Spanish institutions. Indeed, by 1619 there were thirty-two so-called universities in Spain. The University of Alcald de Henares, founded in 1508 by Cardinal Cisneros, was second in importance to Salamanca. Cisneros had attended the University of Salamanca and had patterned the new  EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION Xiii university on that of his alma mater. Another important Spanish university in the sixteenth century was in Zaragoza. Courses taught in these institutions consisted first of all of theology and canon law; but civil law, medicine, and the arts (philosophy) were also taught. The degrees offered were bache- lor, licentiate, and doctorate. In order to receive the degree of bachelor, the candidate had to read publicly in the university ten lessons of one-half hour each on theological points, with the rector of the university, members of the faculty, and the examiners present. On being admitted to the degree, the student knelt and swore to remain loyal to his university. The students recited in Latin, and, as Cervantes wrote in Tia Fingida, they were young people "easy-going, free, passionate, discreet, diabolical, and good-humored." For the most part the students were poor, ragged, and ill-kept and frequently earned money by begging. Some assisted the clergy in various religious activities. While attending the university, the students were gen- erally considered as members of the clergy and thus free from civil trial. In many instances the students chose their own pro- fessors, and discipline was haphazard and inconsistent. While these great universities were most flourishing, America was discovered and important regions conquered. It was only natural, therefore, that the Spanish Crown, embodying the head- ship of the Spanish Government and the Spanish Church, should concern itself with the educating of the newly found peoples living in a state of nature in the Western Hemisphere. The seventeenth and eighteenth centuries showed great ad- vancement in educational matters, even though many of the improvements were of a superficial nature. As in the sixteenth cen- tury, the Church still controlled education and acted as the in- tellectual censor for the colonies. The last two hundred years of colonial history were marked by the establishment of a num- ber of important schools of higher learning. In 1613 the Uni- versity of C6rdoba was founded in Argentina, and in 1623 the University of Sucre was opened in Bolivia. In 1692 the Uni- EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION Xiii university on that of his alma mater. Another important Spanish university in the sixteenth century was in Zaragoza. Courses taught in these institutions consisted first of all of theology and canon law; but civil law, medicine, and the arts (philosophy) were also taught. The degrees offered were bache- lor, licentiate, and doctorate. In order to receive the degree of bachelor, the candidate had to read publicly in the university ten lessons of one-half hour each on theological points, with the rector of the university, members of the faculty, and the examiners present. On being admitted to the degree, the student knelt and swore to remain loyal to his university. The students recited in Latin, and, as Cervantes wrote in Tia Fingida, they were young people "easy-going, free, passionate, discreet, diabolical, and good-humored." For the most part the students were poor, ragged, and ill-kept and frequently earned money by begging. Some assisted the clergy in various religious activities. While attending the university, the students were gen- erally considered as members of the clergy and thus free from civil trial. In many instances the students chose their own pro- fessors, and discipline was haphazard and inconsistent. While these great universities were most flourishing, America was discovered and important regions conquered. It was only natural, therefore, that the Spanish Crown, embodying the head- ship of the Spanish Government and the Spanish Church, should concern itself with the educating of the newly found peoples living in a state of nature in the Western Hemisphere. The seventeenth and eighteenth centuries showed great ad- vancement in educational matters, even though many of the improvements were of a superficial nature. As in the sixteenth cen- tury, the Church still controlled education and acted as the in- tellectual censor for the colonies. The last two hundred years of colonial history were marked by the establishment of a num- ber of important schools of higher learning. In 1613 the Uni- versity of C6rdoba was founded in Argentina, and in 1623 the University of Sucre was opened in Bolivia. In 1692 the Uni- EDITORS INTRODUCTION Xiii university on that of his alma mater. Another important Spanish university in the sixteenth century was in Zaragoza. Courses taught in these institutions consisted first of all of theology and canon law; but civil law, medicine, and the arts (philosophy) were also taught. The degrees offered were bache- lor, licentiate, and doctorate. In order to receive the degree of bachelor, the candidate had to read publicly in the university ten lessons of one-half hour each on theological points, with the rector of the university, members of the faculty, and the examiners present. On being admitted to the degree, the student knelt and swore to remain loyal to his university. The students recited in Latin, and, as Cervantes wrote in Tia Fingida, they were young people "easy-going, free, passionate, discreet, diabolical, and good-humored." For the most part the students were poor, ragged, and ill-kept and frequently earned money by begging. Some assisted the clergy in various religious activities. While attending the university, the students were gen- erally considered as members of the clergy and thus free from civil trial. In many instances the students chose their own pro- fessors, and discipline was haphazard and inconsistent. While these great universities were most flourishing, America was discovered and important regions conquered. It was only natural, therefore, that the Spanish Crown, embodying the head- ship of the Spanish Government and the Spanish Church, should concern itself with the educating of the newly found peoples living in a state of nature in the Western Hemisphere. The seventeenth and eighteenth centuries showed great ad- vancement in educational matters, even though many of the improvements were of a superficial nature. As in the sixteenth cen- tury, the Church still controlled education and acted as the in- tellectual censor for the colonies. The last two hundred years of colonial history were marked by the establishment of a num- ber of important schools of higher learning. In 1613 the Uni- versity of C6rdoba was founded in Argentina, and in 1623 the University of Sucre was opened in Bolivia. In 1692 the Uni-  xiv The Caribbean versity of Cuzco was established in Peru. In the next century, universities were opened in Caracas, Venezuela, in 1721; in Havana, Cuba, in 1728; in Santiago, Chile, in 1743; and in Quito, Ecuador, in 1787. The enrollment in the colonial universities often reached sev- eral thousand students. The subjects taught were native and foreign languages, history, anthropology, law, medicine, geog- raphy, natural sciences, theology, and, in the latter half of the eighteenth century, philosophy. The exercises of the universities, especially the conferring of degrees, weere similar to those of con- temporary European institutions, but no university in America held a scholastic rank equal to that of the chief Spanish institu- tions, especially the University of Salamanca. Besides these higher institutions, a number of schools were established especially for the education of Indian youth. Many of these were Franciscan mission schools, where such elementary subjects as reading, writing, and the Spanish language weere taught. The Jesuit Order established a number of secondary schools where more advanced instruction was given, but the members of the upper class continued to receive much of their education in Spain or from local tutors. In the colonies as a whole during the eighteenth century, illiteracy remained extremely high, and what culture existed was largely superficial. The revolutions for independence in the early nineteenth cen- tury had very little effect upon education in general throughout the Spanish colonies. It is true of course that many leaders of the revolutionary movement were university graduates or had at least attended these institutions. Some new courses were added to the curriculum, especially on political philosophy. But on the whole, the universities maintained their medieval characteristics for many years. I. The National Period One of the earliest methods of instruction which first affected national education was the Lancastrian form of teaching, with xiv The Caribbean xiv The Caribbean versity of Cuzco was established in Peru. In the next century, universities were opened in Caracas, Venezuela, in 1721; in Havana, Cuba, in 1728; in Santiago, Chile, in 1743; and in Quito, Ecuador, in 1787. The enrollment in the colonial universities often reached sev- eral thousand students. The subjects taught were native and foreign languages, history, anthropology, law, medicine, geog- raphy, natural sciences, theology, and, in the latter half of the eighteenth century, philosophy. The exercises of the universities, especially the conferring of degrees, were similar to those of con- temporary European institutions, but no university in America held a scholastic rank equal to that of the chief Spanish institu- tions, especially the University of Salamanca. Besides these higher institutions, a number of schools were established especially for the education of Indian youth. Many of these were Franciscan mission schools, where such elementary subjects as reading, writing, and the Spanish language were taught. The Jesuit Order established a number of secondary schools where more advanced instruction was given, but the members of the upper class continued to receive much of their education in Spain or from local tutors. In the colonies as a whole during the eighteenth century, illiteracy remained extremely high, and what culture existed was largely superficial. The revolutions for independence in the early nineteenth cen- tury had very little effect upon education in general throughout the Spanish colonies. It is true of course that many leaders of the revolutionary movement were university graduates or had at least attended these institutions. Some new courses were added to the curriculum, especially on political philosophy. But on the whole, the universities maintained their medieval characteristics for many years. It. The National Period One of the earliest methods of instruction which first affected national education was the Lancastrian form of teaching, with versity of Cuzco was established in Peru. In the next century, universities were opened in Caracas, Venezuela, in 1721; in Havana, Cuba, in 1728; in Santiago, Chile, in 1743; and in Quito, Ecuador, in 1787. The enrollment in the colonial universities often reached sev- eral thousand students. The subjects taught were native and foreign languages, history, anthropology, law, medicine, geog- raphy, natural sciences, theology, and, in the latter half of the eighteenth century, philosophy. The exercises of the universities, especially the conferring of degrees, were similar to those of con- temporary European institutions, but no university in America held a scholastic rank equal to that of the chief Spanish institu- tions, especially the University of Salamanca. Besides these higher institutions, a number of schools were established especially for the education of Indian youth. Many of these were Franciscan mission schools, where such elementary subjects as reading, writing, and the Spanish language were taught. The Jesuit Order established a number of secondary schools where more advanced instruction was given, but the members of the upper class continued to receive much of their education in Spain or from local tutors. In the colonies as a whole during the eighteenth century, illiteracy remained extremely high, and what culture existed was largely superficial. The revolutions for independence in the early nineteenth cen- tury had very little effect upon education in general throughout the Spanish colonies. It is true of course that many leaders of the revolutionary movement were university graduates or had at least attended these institutions. Some new courses were added to the curriculum, especially on political philosophy. But on the whole, the universities maintained their medieval characteristics for many years. I. The National Period One of the earliest methods of instruction which first affected national education was the Lancastrian form of teaching, with  EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION XV EDITORS INTRODUCTION monitorial and tutorial methods, introduced from Europe after the revolutions for independence. Public instruction in Argen- tina, Chile, Uruguay, Peru, Colombia, and Venezuela was in- fluenced for a time by this technique. In fact, in all countries European educational methods and patterns were the model. But in recent years, the educational organization and methods used in the United States have gained such wide favor that pedagogical experts from this country have been asked to assist in the reorgan- ization of public instruction in a number of the Spanish American states. It has been mainly since the opening of the present century that government efforts have been directed toward improving national educational systems. Interest in the preschool child is one of the most recent phases of Spanish American education. Nurseries and kindergartens are increasing slowly, the schools adopting some foreign techniques and developing others to meet the special requirements of local conditions. To a certain extent the kinder- garten is regarded as the most satisfactory solution for the prob- lems of the working mother, and it is therefore still regarded more as a philanthropic than as an educational institution. In some countries it is still in the experimental stage and is significant more for what it promises than for what it is already able to do for large numbers of children. On the whole, the growth and care of the child before he enters the first grade are rapidly com- ing to be accepted as proper concerns of the state. At the elementary school level, much thought has been given to the improvement of the curriculum. However, the vast major- ity of the children of school age in Spanish America do not go much beyond the third grade, the attendance mortality being greatest in the rural areas, where schools are few and laws are not enforced. By attacking through special clinics the purely academic causes of retardation, the elementary schools are trying to lengthen the school life of the average child. They are dis- tributing free textbooks in increasingly larger quantities, giving free lunches and clothing to needy pupils, providing pupil trans- monitorial and tutorial methods, introduced from Europe after the revolutions for independence. Public instruction in Argen- tina, Chile, Uruguay, Peru, Colombia, and Venezuela was in- fluenced for a time by this technique. In fact, in all countries European educational methods and patterns were the model. But in recent years, the educational organization and methods used in the United States have gained such wide favor that pedagogical experts from this country have been asked to assist in the reorgan- ization of public instruction in a number of the Spanish American states. It has been mainly since the opening of the present century that government efforts have been directed toward improving national educational systems. Interest in the preschool child is one of the most recent phases of Spanish American education. Nurseries and kindergartens are increasing slowly, the schools adopting some foreign techniques and developing others to meet the special requirements of local conditions. To a certain extent the kinder- garten is regarded as the most satisfactory solution for the prob- lems of the working mother, and it is therefore still regarded more as a philanthropic than as an educational institution. In some countries it is still in the experimental stage and is significant more for what it promises than for what it is already able to do for large numbers of children. On the whole, the growth and care of the child before he enters the first grade are rapidly com- ing to be accepted as proper concerns of the state. At the elementary school level, much thought has been given to the improvement of the curriculum. However, the vast major- ity of the children of school age in Spanish America do not go much beyond the third grade, the attendance mortality being greatest in the rural areas, where schools are few and laws are not enforced. By attacking through special clinics the purely academic causes of retardation, the elementary schools are trying to lengthen the school life of the average child. They are dis- tributing free textbooks in increasingly larger quantities, giving free lunches and clothing to needy pupils, providing pupil trans- EDITORS INTRODUCTION XV monitorial and tutorial methods, introduced from Europe after the revolutions for independence. Public instruction in Argen- tina, Chile, Uruguay, Peru, Colombia, and Venezuela was in- fluenced for a time by this technique. In fact, in all countries European educational methods and patterns were the model. But in recent years, the educational organization and methods used in the United States have gained such wide favor that pedagogical experts from this country have been asked to assist in the reorgan- ization of public instruction in a number of the Spanish American states. It has been mainly since the opening of the present century that government efforts have been directed toward improving national educational systems. Interest in the preschool child is one of the most recent phases of Spanish American education. Nurseries and kindergartens are increasing slowly, the schools adopting some foreign techniques and developing others to meet the special requirements of local conditions. To a certain extent the kinder- garten is regarded as the most satisfactory solution for the prob- lems of the working mother, and it is therefore still regarded more as a philanthropic than as an educational institution. In some countries it is still in the experimental stage and is significant more for what it promises than for what it is already able to do for large numbers of children. On the whole, the growth and care of the child before he enters the first grade are rapidly com- ing to be accepted as proper concerns of the state. At the elementary school level, much thought has been given to the improvement of the curriculum. However, the vast major- ity of the children of school age in Spanish America do not go much beyond the third grade, the attendance mortality being greatest in the rural areas, where schools are few and laws are not enforced. By attacking through special clinics the purely academic causes of retardation, the elementary schools are trying to lengthen the school life of the average child. They are dis- tributing free textbooks in increasingly larger quantities, giving free lunches and clothing to needy pupils, providing pupil trans-  xvi The Caribbean portation, and expanding many types of remedial and preventive services among the school population. Secondary education has been modified with varying speed and effectiveness in different countries. Here, also, curriculum re- construction is the main objective, but educational leaders are also tending to lengthen the secondary course of study, to break the curriculum loose from the grip of the classical tradition, to make the high school more responsive to social change, and to offer the student a wider and richer preparation for earning his living and playing his role as a citizen. The promising experiments being made along these lines all point to the time when a high school education will be an opportunity open to all rather than a privilege for the few. The universities have also responded to a new stimulus. They are concerned not only with their relationship with the students, over whose lives they exercise a controlling influence, but with their role as an intellectually vital force in the life of the nation. Although they lack endowments from private sources, which many of the universities of the United States enjoy, the Spanish Ameri- can institutions of higher learning are nevertheless able to main- tain their old objectives of personal enrichment, professional ability, and preparation for multiple civic duties which in Spanish America are the marks of an educated man or woman. University laboratories, seminars, and research institutes now bring within reach of their students the main currents of mod- ern science and contemporary thought. Several of the striking characteristics of Spanish American education as a whole may be noted. First and foremost is the rapidity with which educators grasp new conceptions, introduce new methods, and battle for new ideals. It was less than a gen- eration ago that Mexico set out to create a national elementary school system worthy of the name. Today Mexican schools, de- ficient though they may be in many respects, attract the attention of educators the world over. It was less than two decades ago that a handful of Bolivian teachers conceived a new education xvi The Caribbean xvi The Caribbean portation, and expanding many types of remedial and preventive services among the school population. Secondary education has been modified with varying speed and effectiveness in different countries. Here, also, curriculum re- construction is the main objective, but educational leaders are also tending to lengthen the secondary course of study, to break the curriculum loose from the grip of the classical tradition, to make the high school more responsive to social change, and to offer the student a wider and richer preparation for earning his living and playing his role as a citizen. The promising experiments being made along these lines all point to the time when a high school education will be an opportunity open to all rather than a privilege for the few. The universities have also responded to a new stimulus. They are concerned not only with their relationship with the students, over whose lives they exercise a controlling influence, but with their role as an intellectually vital force in the life of the nation. Although they lack endowments from private sources, which many of the universities of the United States enjoy, the Spanish Ameri- can institutions of higher learning are nevertheless able to main- tain their old objectives of personal enrichment, professional ability, and preparation for multiple civic duties which in Spanish America are the marks of an educated man or woman. University laboratories, seminars, and research institutes now bring within reach of their students the main currents of mod- ern science and contemporary thought. Several of the striking characteristics of Spanish American education as a whole may be noted. First and foremost is the rapidity with which educators grasp new conceptions, introduce new methods, and battle for new ideals. It was less than a gen- eration ago that Mexico set out to create a national elementary school system worthy of the name. Today Mexican schools, de- ficient though they may be in many respects, attract the attention of educators the world over. It was less than two decades ago that a handful of Bolivian teachers conceived a new education portation, and expanding many types of remedial and preventive services among the school population. Secondary education has been modified with varying speed and effectiveness in different countries. Here, also, curriculum re- construction is the main objective, but educational leaders are also tending to lengthen the secondary course of study, to break the curriculum loose from the grip of the classical tradition, to make the high school more responsive to social change, and to offer the student a wider and richer preparation for earning his living and playing his role as a citizen. The promising experiments being made along these lines all point to the time when a high school education will be an opportunity open to all rather than a privilege for the few. The universities have also responded to a new stimulus. They are concerned not only with their relationship with the students, over whose lives they exercise a controlling influence, but with their role as an intellectually vital force in the life of the nation. Although they lack endowments from private sources, which many of the universities of the United States enjoy, the Spanish Ameri- can institutions of higher learning are nevertheless able to main- tain their old objectives of personal enrichment, professional ability, and preparation for multiple civic duties which in Spanish America are the marks of an educated man or woman. University laboratories, seminars, and research institutes now bring within reach of their students the main currents of mod- ern science and contemporary thought. Several of the striking characteristics of Spanish American education as a whole may be noted. First and foremost is the rapidity with which educators grasp new conceptions, introduce new methods, and battle for new ideals. It was less than a gen- eration ago that Mexico set out to create a national elementary school system worthy of the name. Today Mexican schools, de- ficient though they may be in many respects, attract the attention of educators the world over. It was less than two decades ago that a handful of Bolivian teachers conceived a new education  EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION Xli EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION XVli EDITORS INTRODUCTION XVii for their people, and today in that country there are emerging new educational ideals which deserve sympathetic attention. To achieve changes and to achieve them rapidly, Spanish American educators have created new tools or adapted those which they have found in their travels in other lands. The rural school idea has spread through Mexico, Cuba, Ecuador, Bolivia, Vene- zuela, and elsewhere in the Caribbean. Where permanent schools cannot be established, itinerant schools have sprung up, following the child as the child follows the crops. Rural teacher-training centers of a new type have been developed. An encouraging de- velopment in Indian education is the progress achieved by the use of native dialects in instruction and by the tactful and honest at- tempts to break down the reserve and even the hostility of the Indian, justified by many factors past and present. The so-called "popular university" has emerged out of the contact of devoted teachers with the mass of illiterate adult workers. The cooperative spirit in educational enterprise has been pre- served in the rural areas, where a strong collective spirit sur- vives. And most important of all, a new type of missionary- teacher is being created-a competent instructor and leader who is flung into the wilderness and expected literally to make bricks with his own hands, to construct benches and tables with his own tools, to set up and maintain humble centers of knowledge- houses of the people-with little more than his own resourceful- ness. Over and above this creativeness in educational technique, there is a steady assimilation of methods and practices from abroad; there are efficient curriculum laboratories; there are, and have been for many years, experimental schools which constantly break new ground; there is an increasing use of the radio and the motion picture; there are summer camps to rebuild stunted bodies and to awaken lethargic minds; and there is educational planning by which social resources are assessed in relation to educational needs. for their people, and today in that country there are emerging new educational ideals which deserve sympathetic attention. To achieve changes and to achieve them rapidly, Spanish American educators have created new tools or adapted those which they have found in their travels in other lands. The rural school idea has spread through Mexico, Cuba, Ecuador, Bolivia, Vene- zuela, and elsewhere in the Caribbean. Where permanent schools cannot be established, itinerant schools have sprung up, following the child as the child follows the crops. Rural teacher-training centers of a new type have been developed. An encouraging de- velopment in Indian education is the progress achieved by the use of native dialects in instruction and by the tactful and honest at- tempts to break down the reserve and even the hostility of the Indian, justified by many factors past and present. The so-called "popular university" has emerged out of the contact of devoted teachers with the mass of illiterate adult workers. The cooperative spirit in educational enterprise has been pre- served in the rural areas, where a strong collective spirit sur- vives. And most important of all, a new type of missionary- teacher is being created-a competent instructor and leader who is flung into the wilderness and expected literally to make bricks with his own hands, to construct benches and tables with his own tools, to set up and maintain humble centers of knowledge- houses of the people--with little more than his own resourceful- ness. Over and above this creativeness in educational technique, there is a steady assimilation of methods and practices from abroad; there are efficient curriculum laboratories; there are, and have been for many years, experimental schools which constantly break new ground; there is an increasing use of the radio and the motion picture; there are summer camps to rebuild stunted bodies and to awaken lethargic minds; and there is educational planning by which social resources are assessed in relation to educational needs. for their people, and today in that country there are emerging new educational ideals which deserve sympathetic attention. To achieve changes and to achieve them rapidly, Spanish American educators have created new tools or adapted those which they have found in their travels in other lands. The rural school idea has spread through Mexico, Cuba, Ecuador, Bolivia, Vene- zuela, and elsewhere in the Caribbean. Where permanent schools cannot be established, itinerant schools have sprung up, following the child as the child follows the crops. Rural teacher-training centers of a new type have been developed. An encouraging de- velopment in Indian education is the progress achieved by the use of native dialects in instruction and by the tactful and honest at- tempts to break down the reserve and even the hostility of the Indian, justified by many factors past and present. The so-called "popular university" has emerged out of the contact of devoted teachers with the mass of illiterate adult workers. The cooperative spirit in educational enterprise has been pre- served in the rural areas, where a strong collective spirit sur- vives. And most important of all, a new type of missionary- teacher is being created-a competent instructor and leader who is flung into the wilderness and expected literally to make bricks with his own hands, to construct benches and tables with his own tools, to set up and maintain humble centers of knowledge- houses of the people--with little more than his own resourceful- ness. Over and above this creativeness in educational technique, there is a steady assimilation of methods and practices from abroad; there are efficient curriculum laboratories; there are, and have been for many years, experimental schools which constantly break new ground; there is an increasing use of the radio and the motion picture; there are summer camps to rebuild stunted bodies and to awaken lethargic minds; and there is educational planning by which social resources are assessed in relation to educational needs.  xviii The Caribbean Throughout Spanish America, schools are noticeably dispropor- tionate to the population, there being a great number of elemen- tary schools and very few secondary and professional institutions. Each country, however, has a well-established system of higher education, and several universities-particularly in Mexico, Chile, Peru, Venezuela, Argentina, Colombia, and Cuba-have become outstanding institutions. In recent years a number of govern- ments have moved the national university out of crowded, ancient buildings into new and spacious "university cities" in suburban areas. Comparatively speaking, few schools-whether elementary, secondary, or higher-have had the same standards of instruction as those of corresponding rank in the United States and Europe. In all the Spanish American states, the school systems have suf- fered from a lack of government funds, and in certain states it has been frequently impossible to meet current educational ex- penses. Moreover, since student political activity has gained such popularity, especially since the inauguration of the Student Re- form Movement, many of the institutions of higher learning have been closed in order to combat the spread of revolutionary doc- trines among their scholars. ff1. The Student Reform Movement One of the most significant educational movements anywhere in the world has been the so-called Student Reform Movement in the Spanish American republics. Toward the end of the First World War there swept through the Spanish American countries currents of thought and action directed toward the achievement of social freedom and equality of opportunity for the masses who were beginning to feel the need for relief from the innumerable oppressions affecting the laboring classes. This movement was augmented in part by the Mexican Revolution, by the Russian Revolution, by the new ideology engendered by the First World War, and somewhat by expressions of social equality proclaimed by President Woodrow Wilson of the United States. xviii The Caribbean Throughout Spanish America, schools are noticeably dispropor- tionate to the population, there being a great number of elemen- tary schools and very few secondary and professional institutions. Each country, however, has a well-established system of higher education, and several universities-particularly in Mexico, Chile, Peru, Venezuela, Argentina, Colombia, and Cuba-have become outstanding institutions. In recent years a number of govern- ments have moved the national university out of crowded, ancient buildings into new and spacious "university cities" in suburban areas. Comparatively speaking, few schools-whether elementary, secondary, or higher-have had the same standards of instruction as those of corresponding rank in the United States and Europe. In all the Spanish American states, the school systems have suf- fered from a lack of government funds, and in certain states it has been frequently impossible to meet current educational ex- penses. Moreover, since student political activity has gained such popularity, especially since the inauguration of the Student Re- form Movement, many of the institutions of higher learning have been closed in order to combat the spread of revolutionary doc- trines among their scholars. II. The Student Reform Movement One of the most significant educational movements anywhere in the world has been the so-called Student Reform Movement in the Spanish American republics. Toward the end of the First World War there swept through the Spanish American countries currents of thought and action directed toward the achievement of social freedom and equality of opportunity for the masses who were beginning to feel the need for relief from the innumerable oppressions affecting the laboring classes. This movement was augmented in part by the Mexican Revolution, by the Russian Revolution, by the new ideology engendered by the First World War, and somewhat by expressions of social equality proclaimed by President Woodrow Wilson of the United States. xviii The Caribbean Throughout Spanish America, schools are noticeably dispropor- tionate to the population, there being a great number of elemen- tary schools and very few secondary and professional institutions. Each country, however, has a well-established system of higher education, and several universities-particularly in Mexico, Chile, Peru, Venezuela, Argentina, Colombia, and Cuba-have become outstanding institutions. In recent years a number of govern- ments have moved the national university out of crowded, ancient buildings into new and spacious "university cities" in suburban areas. Comparatively speaking, few schools-whether elementary, secondary, or higher-have had the same standards of instruction as those of corresponding rank in the United States and Europe. In all the Spanish American states, the school systems have suf- fered from a lack of government funds, and in certain states it has been frequently impossible to meet current educational ex- penses. Moreover, since student political activity has gained such popularity, especially since the inauguration of the Student Re- form Movement, many of the institutions of higher learning have been closed in order to combat the spread of revolutionary doc- trines among their scholars. II. The Student Reform Movement One of the most significant educational movements anywhere in the world has been the so-called Student Reform Movement in the Spanish American republics. Toward the end of the First World War there swept through the Spanish American countries currents of thought and action directed toward the achievement of social freedom and equality of opportunity for the masses who were beginning to feel the need for relief from the innumerable oppressions affecting the laboring classes. This movement was augmented in part by the Mexican Revolution, by the Russian Revolution, by the new ideology engendered by the First World War, and somewhat by expressions of social equality proclaimed by President Woodrow Wilson of the United States.  EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION XIX The students of the Spanish American universities, tradition- ally active in politics since independence, felt this new stimulating intellectual current and determined to use it as a means of gain- ing their liberation from the oppression of the outmoded educa- tional system. If they could bring about university reforms, they believed not only that higher education could be improved, but that citizens could be better prepared for democratic living, and that certain important reforms might be adopted to promote the improvement of Spanish American social and economic conditions. The Student Reform Movement had as an objective, also, the liberation of student thinking from the control of inadequate, prejudiced, and dictatorial professors through increasing student participation in the government of the universities. From this objective the movement progressed to embrace the universal edu- cation of the working classes. Thus it soon became ipso facto a political and social force in one country after another. The Student Reform Movement was propelled by certain Span- ish and Spanish American intellectual leaders. Among these were Ortega y Gasset and Miguel de Unamuno of Spain. In Argentina there were Joaquin V. Gonzdlez, founder of the University of La Plata, and Dr. Alfredo L. Palacios. In Uruguay there was Jos6 Enrique Rod6. These and other men proposed some of the ideas and ideals upon which the reform movement was finally built. But the actual promotion of the movement was sparked by students in national universities. For centuries, as has been seen, education had been conducted by the clergy and by other nonprofessional teachers, and the Church and the State still maintained most of their colonial con- trol over the educational institutions. Now the influence of the Catholic Church in the national universities began to diminish rapidly. Many of the clergy forsook their educational activities and returned to their religious duties. The relationship of the govern- ments to the universities was modified. Since the Student Reform Movement began in Argentina, a brief look at government-controlled institutions there is essential. EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION XIX The students of the Spanish American universities, tradition- ally active in politics since independence, felt this new stimulating intellectual current and determined to use it as a means of gain- ing their liberation from the oppression of the outmoded educa- tional system. If they could bring about university reforms, they believed not only that higher education could be improved, but that citizens could be better prepared for democratic living, and that certain important reforms might be adopted to promote the improvement of Spanish American social and economic conditions. The Student Reform Movement had as an objective, also, the liberation of student thinking from the control of inadequate, prejudiced, and dictatorial professors through increasing student participation in the government of the universities. From this objective the movement progressed to embrace the universal edu- cation of the working classes. Thus it soon became ipso facto a political and social force in one country after another. The Student Reform Movement was propelled by certain Span- ish and Spanish American intellectual leaders. Among these were Ortega y Gasser and Miguel de Unamuno of Spain. In Argentina there were Joaquin V. Gonzlez, founder of the University of La Plata, and Dr. Alfredo L. Palacios. In Uruguay there was Jos6 Enrique Rod6. These and other men proposed some of the ideas and ideals upon which the reform movement was finally built. But the actual promotion of the movement was sparked by students in national universities. For centuries, as has been seen, education had been conducted by the clergy and by other nonprofessional teachers, and the Church and the State still maintained most of their colonial con- trol over the educational institutions. Now the influence of the Catholic Church in the national universities began to diminish rapidly. Many of the clergy forsook their educational activities and returned to their religious duties. The relationship of the govern- ments to the universities was modified. Since the Student Reform Movement began in Argentina, a brief look at government-controlled institutions there is essential. EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION XIX The students of the Spanish American universities, tradition- ally active in politics since independence, felt this new stimulating intellectual current and determined to use it as a means of gain- ing their liberation from the oppression of the outmoded educa- tional system. If they could bring about university reforms, they believed not only that higher education could be improved, but that citizens could be better prepared for democratic living, and that certain important reforms might be adopted to promote the improvement of Spanish American social and economic conditions. The Student Reform Movement had as an objective, also, the liberation of student thinking from the control of inadequate, prejudiced, and dictatorial professors through increasing student participation in the government of the universities. From this objective the movement progressed to embrace the universal edu- cation of the working classes. Thus it soon became ipso facto a political and social force in one country after another. The Student Reform Movement was propelled by certain Span- ish and Spanish American intellectual leaders. Among these were Ortega y Gasset and Miguel de Unamuno of Spain. In Argentina there were Joaquin V. Gonzdlez, founder of the University of La Plata, and Dr. Alfredo L. Palacios. In Uruguay there was Jose Enrique Rodd. These and other men proposed some of the ideas and ideals upon which the reform movement was finally built. But the actual promotion of the movement was sparked by students in national universities. For centuries, as has been seen, education had been conducted by the clergy and by other nonprofessional teachers, and the Church and the State still maintained most of their colonial con- trol over the educational institutions. Now the influence of the Catholic Church in the national universities began to diminish rapidly. Many of the clergy forsook their educational activities and returned to their religious duties. The relationship of the govern- ments to the universities was modified. Since the Student Reform Movement began in Argentina, a brief look at government-controlled institutions there is essential:  xx The Caribbean Before 1918, there were two provincial universities: in Santa Fe, opened in 1890, and in Tucumin, opened in 1914. There were three national universities: at C6rdoba, established, as has been noted, in 1614; at Buenos Aires, established by law of 1821; and at La Plata, established in 1897, but not nationalized until 1906. The provincial universities of Santa Fe and Tucumin were na- tionalized in 1919 and 1920, respectively, as a direct result of the Student Reform Movement. The name of the University of Santa Fe later was changed to the University of the Litoral. Prior to the Student Reform Movement, the basic administra- tion of national universities throughout Spanish America was similar. The governing body of the university was the Higher Council, composed of the rector, administrative officers, and delegates from the various faculties. It was the function of the Higher Council to elect the rector as titular head of the university in charge of its administration. The Higher Council also approved the budget of the university, its bylaws, and the courses of study, and it heard cases involving university discipline or policy brought before it on appeal. Funds to run the university came from the national legislature, and the university rendered strict account- ability to it. Generally, the president of the republic was the supreme head of the national university, with the power to take over its operation by appointing an interventor. Within the university each school, or facultad, was governed by an academic council of professors of the school, with the dean of the school at the head of the council. University students were generally organized into "student centers" in each separate college. These centers existed chiefly because of political interests rather than because of cultural or social activities. All the individual student centers were organized into a university federation of students, which in Argentina belonged to the Argentine University Federation of Students with headquarters in Buenos Aires. From time to time this group exercised a rather strong political in- fluence in the national life. xx The Caribbean xx The Caribbean Before 1918, there were two provincial universities: in Santa Fe, opened in 1890, and in Tucuman, opened in 1914. There weere three national universities: at C6rdoba, established, as has been noted, in 1614; at Buenos Aires, established by law of 1821; and at La Plata, established in 1897, but not nationalized until 1906. The provincial universities of Santa Fe and Tucumin were na- tionalized in 1919 and 1920, respectively, as a direct result of the Student Reform Movement. The name of the University of Santa Fe later was changed to the University of the Litoral. Prior to the Student Reform Movement, the basic administra- tion of national universities throughout Spanish America was similar. The governing body of the university was the Higher Council, composed of the rector, administrative officers, and delegates from the various faculties. It was the function of the Higher Council to elect the rector as titular head of the university in charge of its administration. The Higher Council also approved the budget of the university, its bylaws, and the courses of study, and it heard cases involving university discipline or policy brought before it on appeal. Funds to run the university came from the national legislature, and the university rendered strict account- ability to it. Generally, the president of the republic was the supreme head of the national university, with the power to take over its operation by appointing an interventor. Within the university each school, or facultad, was governed by an academic council of professors of the school, with the dean of the school at the head of the council. University students were generally organized into "student centers" in each separate college. These centers existed chiefly because of political interests rather than because of cultural or social activities. All the individual student centers were organized into a university federation of students, which in Argentina belonged to the Argentine University Federation of Students with headquarters in Buenos Aires. From time to time this group exercised a rather strong political in- fluence in the national life. Before 1918, there were two provincial universities: in Santa Fe, opened in 1890, and in Tucumdn, opened in 1914. There were three national universities: at C6rdoba, established, as has been noted, in 1614; at Buenos Aires, established by law of 1821; and at La Plata, established in 1897, but not nationalized until 1906. The provincial universities of Santa Fe and Tucumdn were na- tionalized in 1919 and 1920, respectively, as a direct result of the Student Reform Movement. The name of the University of Santa Fe later was changed to the University of the Litaral. Prior to the Student Reform Movement, the basic administra- tion of national universities throughout Spanish America was similar. The governing body of the university was the Higher Council, composed of the rector, administrative officers, and delegates from the various faculties. It was the function of the Higher Council to elect the rector as titular head of the university in charge of its administration. The Higher Council also approved the budget of the university, its bylaws, and the courses of study, and it heard cases involving university discipline or policy brought before it on appeal. Funds to run the university came from the national legislature, and the university rendered strict account- ability to it. Generally, the president of the republic was the supreme head of the national university, with the power to take over its operation by appointing an interventor. Within the university each school, or facultad, was governed by an academic council of professors of the school, with the dean of the school at the head of the council. University students were generally organized into "student centers" in each separate college. These centers existed chiefly because of political interests rather than because of cultural or social activities. All the individual student centers were organized into a university federation of students, which in Argentina belonged to the Argentine University Federation of Students with headquarters in Buenos Aires. From time to time this group exercised a rather strong political in- fluence in the national life.  EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION XXi The university organization just described was largely provided for in 1885 by an act passed by the Argentine Congress known as the "Ley Avellaneda." Gradually, students came to be repre- sented on faculty councils, and some students even gave courses in the university when there was a shortage of professors. In 1908 the first congress of American students was convened in Buenos Aires with student representatives from Argentina, Bo- livia, Brazil, Cuba, Chile, Paraguay, Peru, and Uruguay. At this meeting it was generally agreed that the students should be al- lowed representation on the administrative councils of the uni- versity and that student participation in university management should be extended. At first there was very little popular interest in the demands of the students. However, world events and their impact upon national life gradually brought about an increased interest on the part of the public in what was happening in the universities. In Argentina, President Hip6lito Irigoyen, interested in social re- forms, especially helped to make the time propitious for the Student Reform Movement to begin in 1918. The Student Reform Movement, or the University Reform Movement as it is also called, began at the National University of Cordoba when the students issued a proclamation setting forth what they considered their rights in the university. The students charged that the university system reflected a decadent society and that it was not in tune with the times. The universities still main- tained the antiquated concept of the divine right of the professor, which did not allow the students the right to think for themselves or to reason out their own problems. It was suggested that the professor should cease to be a glorified reader requiring students to memorize everything that was said. It was urged that profes- sors be chosen on the basis of competitive examinations and de- vote full time to their teaching. It was also felt that students should not be required to attend lectures. These precepts were embodied in a so-called "Order of the Day," dated June 23, 1918. In this statement the students resolved to remain away from their EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION XXi The university organization just described was largely provided for in 1885 by an act passed by the Argentine Congress known as the "Ley Avellaneda." Gradually, students came to be repre- sented on faculty councils, and some students even gave courses in the university when there was a shortage of professors. In 1908 the first congress of American students was convened in Buenos Aires with student representatives from Argentina, Bo- livia, Brazil, Cuba, Chile, Paraguay, Peru, and Uruguay. At this meeting it was generally agreed that the students should be al- lowed representation on the administrative councils of the uni- versity and that student participation in university management should be extended. At first there was very little popular interest in the demands of the students. However, world events and their impact upon national life gradually brought about an increased interest on the part of the public in what was happening in the universities. In Argentina, President Hip6lito Irigoyen, interested in social re- forms, especially helped to make the time propitious for the Student Reform Movement to begin in 1918. The Student Reform Movement, or the University Reform Movement as it is also called, began at the National University of Cdrdoba when the students issued a proclamation setting forth what they considered their rights in the university. The students charged that the university system reflected a decadent society and that it was not in tune with the times. The universities still main- tained the antiquated concept of the divine right of the professor, which did not allow the students the right to think for themselves or to reason out their own problems. It was suggested that the professor should cease to be a glorified reader requiring students to memorize everything that was said. It was urged that profes- sors be chosen on the basis of competitive examinations and de- vote full time to their teaching. It was also felt that students should not be required to attend lectures. These precepts were embodied in a so-called "Order of the Day," dated June 23, 1918. In this statement the students resolved to remain away from their EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION XXi The university organization just described was largely provided for in 1885 by an act passed by the Argentine Congress known as the "Ley Avellaneda." Gradually, students came to be repre- sented on faculty councils, and some students even gave courses in the university when there was a shortage of professors. In 1908 the first congress of American students was convened in Buenos Aires with student representatives from Argentina, Bo- livia, Brazil, Cuba, Chile, Paraguay, Peru, and Uruguay. At this meeting it was generally agreed that the students should be al- lowed representation on the administrative councils of the uni- versity and that student participation in university management should be extended. At first there was very little popular interest in the demands of the students. However, world events and their impact upon national life gradually brought about an increased interest on the part of the public in what was happening in the universities. In Argentina, President Hip6lito Irigoyen, interested in social re- forms, especially helped to make the time propitious for the Student Reform Movement to begin in 1918. The Student Reform Movement, or the University Reform Movement as it is also called, began at the National University of C6rdoba when the students issued a proclamation setting forth what they considered their rights in the university. The students charged that the university system reflected a decadent society and that it was not in tune with the times. The universities still main- tained the antiquated concept of the divine right of the professor, which did not allow the students the right to think for themselves or to reason out their own problems. It was suggested that the professor should cease to be a glorified reader requiring students to memorize everything that was said. It was urged that profes- sors be chosen on the basis of competitive examinations and de- vote full time to their teaching. It was also felt that students should not be required to attend lectures. These precepts were embodied in a so-called "Order of the Day," dated June 23, 1918. In this statement the students resolved to remain away from their  xxii The Caribbean classes until satisfactory reforms were obtained. They agreed to present a plan of reform to the provincial congress in C6rdoba, which in turn would present it to the national congress in Buenos Aires, thus publicizing the aims and objectives of the reform movement in the national capital. The immediate criticism by the students at the University of Cdrdoba was directed against the rector of the university, Dr. Antonio Nores, of the Faculty of Medicine. Dr. Nores was op- posed to the extension of student participation in university gov- ernment, and he favored the continuation of the old tenets of academic discipline and universal respect for the faculty. To show their solidarity with the students at C6rdoba, students at other educational centers went on strikes. In Buenos Aires, the Federation of Cultural Associations issued an Order of the Day declaring that the principles proclaimed by the students at C6rdoba be considered as proposals for an educational revolutionary move- ment and that the education system should be renovated in ac- cordance with the principles of the new "spiritual orientation," in order to promote popular education as the most efficient means of elevating the laboring classes. Immediately, speakers appeared at mass meetings and before labor and educational organizations in order to popularize what was called the "New Cycle of Civili- zation." When students and police engaged in bloody conflict, as now happened frequently, sympathy for the students' objectives became articulate on the part of various organizations throughout Argentina. While these activities were taking place in Cordoba, a special commission was designated in July, 1918, by the National Uni- versity of Buenos Aires to study the reform of the university statutes so far as they pertained to student representation in uni- versity administration and the attendance of students at lectures. On August 14, 1918, this commission presented its report to the national Ministry of Justice and Public Instruction. The report suggested that the term of the rector be established at four years with possible re-election for a second and a third term. Attend- xxii The Caribbean classes until satisfactory reforms were obtained. They agreed to present a plan of reform to the provincial congress in Cordoba, which in turn would present it to the national congress in Buenos Aires, thus publicizing the aims and objectives of the reform movement in the national capital. The immediate criticism by the students at the University of Cdrdoba was directed against the rector of the university, Dr. Antonio Nores, of the Faculty of Medicine. Dr. Nores was op- posed to the extension of student participation in university gov- ernment, and he favored the continuation of the old tenets of academic discipline and universal respect for the faculty. To show their solidarity with the students at Cordoba, students at other educational centers went on strikes. In Buenos Aires, the Federation of Cultural Associations issued an Order of the Day declaring that the principles proclaimed by the students at C6rdoba be considered as proposals for an educational revolutionary move- ment and that the education system should be renovated in ac- cordance with the principles of the new "spiritual orientation," in order to promote popular education as the most efficient means of elevating the laboring classes. Immediately, speakers appeared at mass meetings and before labor and educational organizations in order to popularize what was called the "New Cycle of Civili- zation." When students and police engaged in bloody conflict, as now happened frequently, sympathy for the students' objectives became articulate on the part of various organizations throughout Argentina. While these activities were taking place in Cdrdoba, a special commission was designated in July, 1918, by the National Uni- versity of Buenos Aires to study the reform of the university statutes so far as they pertained to student representation in uni- versity administration and the attendance of students at lectures. On August 14, 1918, this commission presented its report to the national Ministry of Justice and Public Instruction. The report suggested that the term of the rector be established at four years with possible re-election for a second and a third term. Attend- xxii The Caribbean classes until satisfactory reforms were obtained. They agreed to present a plan of reform to the provincial congress in Cdrdoba, which in turn would present it to the national congress in Buenos Aires, thus publicizing the aims and objectives of the reform movement in the national capital. The immediate criticism by the students at the University of Cdrdoba was directed against the rector of the university, Dr. Antonio Nores, of the Faculty of Medicine. Dr. Nores was op- posed to the extension of student participation in university gov- ernment, and he favored the continuation of the old tenets of academic discipline and universal respect for the faculty. To show their solidarity with the students at Cirdoba, students at other educational centers went on strikes. In Buenos Aires, the Federation of Cultural Associations issued an Order of the Day declaring that the principles proclaimed by the students at C6rdoba be considered as proposals for an educational revolutionary move- ment and that the education system should be renovated in ac- cordance with the principles of the new "spiritual orientation," in order to promote popular education as the most efficient means of elevating the laboring classes. Immediately, speakers appeared at mass meetings and before labor and educational organizations in order to popularize what was called the "New Cycle of Civili- zation." When students and police engaged in bloody conflict, as now happened frequently, sympathy for the students' objectives became articulate on the part of various organizations throughout Argentina. While these activities were taking place in Cdrdoba, a special commission was designated in July, 1918, by the National Uni- versity of Buenos Aires to study the reform of the university statutes so far as they pertained to student representation in uni- versity administration and the attendance of students at lectures. On August 14, 1918, this commission presented its report to the national Ministry of Justice and Public Instruction. The report suggested that the term of the rector be established at four years with possible re-election for a second and a third term. Attend-  EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION XXiii EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION ance was no longer to be required of students at lecture courses, although attendance at laboratories was to be compulsory. It was proposed that members of the Higher Council of the university should be named by a directive council at a general assembly. This assembly was to be attended by the titular professors and an equal number of assistant professors and students. Students at- tending this meeting consisted of those having completed three years of their career studies. The meetings of the assembly were to be presided over by the dean of the faculty, and elections were by public voting decided by an absolute majority. Thus the students would obtain an indirect participation in the adminis- tration of the university through the elections for the directive councils of the individual colleges. On September 11, 1918, President Irigoyen adopted the pro- posals of the commission by a decree, and there resulted an almost immediate change in the statutes of the National University of Buenos Aires. This decree also became the basis for the reorgan- ization of the University of C6rdoba. But the conflict at C6rdoba continued. The rector of the uni- versity had submitted his resignation and also had resigned his position on the faculty of medicine in August, 1918. Doctor Nores was succeeded by an interventor appointed by the presi- dent of the republic. The interventor was Jos4 Nicolis Matienzo, who was responsible to the national Ministry of Justice and Public Instruction. On September 9, 1918, the university reopened and four students were appointed to exercise the rectorship of the university concurrently. Instruction was to commence, all acts of the deans were to be submitted for approval to the University Federation, and the public was invited to attend the inauguration of classes. The provision concerning the University Federation met with opposition on the part of the faculty and the directive councils of the university. They appealed to the national Ministry of Justice and Public Instruction for the intervention of government troops to prevent the occupation of the university by the students. ance was no longer to be required of students at lecture c although attendance at laboratories was to be compulsory. proposed that members of the Higher Council of the uni should be named by a directive council at a general ass This assembly was to be attended by the titular professors equal number of assistant professors and students. Stude tending this meeting consisted of those having completed years of their career studies. The meetings of the assembl to be presided over by the dean of the faculty, and election by public voting decided by an absolute majority. Th students would obtain an indirect participation in the ad tration of the university through the elections for the di councils of the individual colleges. On September 11, 1918, President Irigoyen adopted th posals of the commission by a decree, and there resulted an immediate change in the statutes of the National Univer Buenos Aires. This decree also became the basis for the re ization of the University of C6rdoba. But the conflict at C6rdoba continued. The rector of th versity had submitted his resignation and also had resign position on the faculty of medicine in August, 1918. Nores was succeeded by an interventor appointed by the dent of the republic. The interventor was Jos4 Nicolas Ma who was responsible to the national Ministry of Justice and Instruction. On September 9, 1918, the university reopen four students were appointed to exercise the rectorship university concurrently. Instruction was to commence, a of the deans were to be submitted for approval to the Uni Federation, and the public was invited to attend the inaug of classes. The provision concerning the University Federation mr opposition on the part of the faculty and the directive c of the university. They appealed to the national Mini Justice and Public Instruction for the intervention of gover troops to prevent the occupation of the university by the st XXiii EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION XXiii ourses, ance was no longer to be required of students at lecture courses, It was although attendance at laboratories was to be compulsory. It was versity proposed that members of the Higher Council of the university embly. should be named by a directive council at a general assembly. and an This assembly was to be attended by the titular professors and an nts at- equal number of assistant professors and students. Students at- three tending this meeting consisted of those having completed three y were years of their career studies. The meetings of the assembly were s were to be presided over by the dean of the faculty, and elections were us the by public voting decided by an absolute majority. Thus the minis- students would obtain an indirect participation in the adminis- rective tration of the university through the elections for the directive councils of the individual colleges. oe pro- On September 11, 1918, President Irigoyen adopted the pro- almost posals of the commission by a decree, and there resulted an almost sity of immediate change in the statutes of the National University of organ- Buenos Aires. This decree also became the basis for the reorgan- ization of the University of C6rdoba. oe uni- But the conflict at C6rdoba continued. The rector of the uni- ed his versity had submitted his resignation and also had resigned his Doctor position on the faculty of medicine in August, 1918. Doctor presi- Nores was succeeded by an interventor appointed by the presi- tienzo, dent of the republic. The interventor was Jos6 Nicolds Matienzo, Public who was responsible to the national Ministry of Justice and Public ed and Instruction. On September 9, 1918, the university reopened and of the four students were appointed to exercise the rectorship of the all acts university concurrently. Instruction was to commence, all acts versity of the deans were to be submitted for approval to the University uration Federation, and the public was invited to attend the inauguration of classes. t with The provision concerning the University Federation met with ouncils opposition on the part of the faculty and the directive councils stry of of the university. They appealed to the national Ministry of nment justice and Public Instruction for the intervention of government udents. troops to prevent the occupation of the university by the students.  xxiv The Caribbean xxiv The Caribbean xxiv The Caribbean Then followed resignations by a large number of the faculty, which the national government refused to accept. However, the government did accept the resignation of Dr. Nores and the heads of several of the faculties on September 17. On October 5 the national Ministry of Justice and Public Instruction by a decree reconstituted the superior council and the directive councils of the faculties, which had been disorganized by faculty resignations of the previous month. Other statutes of the university proposed reforms in the accounting and handling of the university finances. These were accepted by President Irigoyen on October 7, thus clearing the way for the resumption of university classes. At the same time, free access to the national astronomical observatory was extended to all students in cosmography and geodetics and to members of the faculties of the exact, physical, and natural sciences. Finally, on October 10, the university classes began and students were allowed to attend lectures voluntarily. On October 12 the university was turned over by the interventor to the ap- propriate authorities amid imposing ceremonies. While these activities were occurring at the University of C6rdo- ba, somewhat similar movements were begun in other universities in Spanish American countries. As at C6rdoba, the students asked for greater participation in university management, better lectures from their professors, more freedom of action in attending classes, and more encouragement and opportunity to think for themselves. The students generally appealed to the masses, arguing that they stood for the common aims of all free peoples, and they asked that the people join the crusade for liberalizing the national education system. The Student Reform Movement spread to the University of San Marcos in 1919, when Dr. Alfredo Palacios went from Argen- tina to Lima to assist Radl Haya de Ia Torre, a student at the National University, to organize the reform movement in that country. Here, beside the usual requests, the students demanded the specific right to criticize the university system. Accordingly, a decree was issued by the Peruvian government (1919) allow- Then followed resignations by a large number of the faculty, which the national government refused to accept. However, the government did accept the resignation of Dr. Nores and the heads of several of the faculties on September 17. On October 5 the national Ministry of Justice and Public Instruction by a decree reconstituted the superior council and the directive councils of the faculties, which had been disorganized by faculty resignations of the previous month. Other statutes of the university proposed reforms in the accounting and handling of the university finances. These were accepted by President Irigoyen on October 7, thus clearing the way for the resumption of university classes. At the same time, free access to the national astronomical observatory was extended to all students in cosmography and geodetics and to members of the faculties of the exact, physical, and natural sciences. Finally, on October 10, the university classes began and students were allowed to attend lectures voluntarily. On October 12 the university was turned over by the interventor to the ap- propriate authorities amid imposing ceremonies. While these activities were occurring at the University of C6rdo- ba, somewhat similar movements were begun in other universities in Spanish American countries. As at C6rdoba, the students asked for greater participation in university management, better lectures from their professors, more freedom of action in attending classes, and more encouragement and opportunity to think for themselves. The students generally appealed to the masses, arguing that they stood for the common aims of all free peoples, and they asked that the people join the crusade for liberalizing the national education system. The Student Reform Movement spread to the University of San Marcos in 1919, when Dr. Alfredo Palacios went from Argen- tina to Lima to assist Radl Haya de la Torre, a student at the National University, to organize the reform movement in that country. Here, beside the usual requests, the students demanded the specific right to criticize the university system. Accordingly, a decree was issued by the Peruvian government (1919) allow- Then followed resignations by a large number of the faculty, which the national government refused to accept. However, the government did accept the resignation of Dr. Nores and the heads of several of the faculties on September 17. On October 5 the national Ministry of Justice and Public Instruction by a decree reconstituted the superior council and the directive councils of the faculties, which had been disorganized by faculty resignations of the previous month. Other statutes of the university proposed reforms in the accounting and handling of the university finances. These were accepted by President Irigoyen on October 7, thus clearing the way for the resumption of university classes. At the same time, free access to the national astronomical observatory was extended to all students in cosmography and geodetics and to members of the faculties of the exact, physical, and natural sciences. Finally, on October 10, the university classes began and students were allowed to attend lectures voluntarily. On October 12 the university was turned over by the interventor to the ap- propriate authorities amid imposing ceremonies. While these activities were occurring at the University of C6rdo- ba, somewhat similar movements were begui in other universities in Spanish American countries. As at C6rdoba, the students asked for greater participation in university management, better lectures from their professors, more freedom of action in attending classes, and more encouragement and opportunity to think for themselves. The students generally appealed to the masses, arguing that they stood for the common aims of all free peoples, and they asked that the people join the crusade for liberalizing the national education system. The Student Reform Movement spread to the University of San Marcos in 1919, when Dr. Alfredo Palacios went from Argen- tina to Lima to assist Rail Haya de la Torre, a student at the National University, to organize the reform movement in that country. Here, beside the usual requests, the students demanded the specific right to criticize the university system. Accordingly, a decree was issued by the Peruvian government (1919) allow-  EDITORS INTRODUCTION XXV EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION XXV EDITORS INTRODUCTION XXV ing students to charge that a professor was incompetent and thus force him to resign. Soon the university students in Peru were given the right to have a voice in the abolition of any chair of learning in any of the faculties. Under Haya de la Torre the students took a direct interest in trying to educate the masses in matters of sanitation, the harmful effects of alcohol, and the so- cial improvement of industrial suburbs of the cities. The use of student strikes in Peru became an important weapon of the Re- form Party in their relations with labor unions and the working classes. In Mexico the student movement got off to a later start. In 1921 the First International Congress of Students convened in Mexico City and agreed that it was essential for students to par- ticipate in university government. However, such student parti- cipation was not provided in the National University of Mexico until by law of 1929. Subsequently the Student Reform Move- ment spread into Cuba and Guatemala, and eventually to uni- versities throughout the continent. Thus in the years following the First World War, the old tra- dition of Church control of higher education with government support and the predominant importance of religious training in national educational institutions disintegrated rapidly. Learning by rote came to an end. Students attended seminars and labora- tories. University professors consecrated themselves to their edu- cational missions. The alumni of the universities became influen- tial in continuing educational reforms, as well as in promoting educational objectives through national political activities. Lower education for the masses, however, was still left in many instances to the Church, to the government, or to individuals themselves. Nevertheless, many important educational results had been achieved in the long centuries since the first Iberian set foot on the good earth of the Western Hemisphere. Academic training and religious teaching had combined to bring to the Spanish American lands an individualistic culture, perhaps not always well balanced, but ever striving toward an integrated ing students to charge that a professor was incompetent and thus force him to resign. Soon the university students in Peru were given the right to have a voice in the abolition of any chair of learning in any of the faculties. Under Haya de la Torre the students took a direct interest in trying to educate the masses in matters of sanitation, the harmful effects of alcohol, and the so- cial improvement of industrial suburbs of the cities. The use of student strikes in Peru became an important weapon of the Re- form Party in their relations with labor unions and the working classes. In Mexico the student movement got off to a later start. In 1921 the First International Congress of Students convened in Mexico City and agreed that it was essential for students to par- ticipate in university government. However, such student parti- cipation was not provided in the National University of Mexico until by law of 1929. Subsequently the Student Reform Move- ment spread into Cuba and Guatemala, and eventually to uni- versities throughout the continent. Thus in the years following the First World War, the old tra- dition of Church control of higher education with government support and the predominant importance of religious training in national educational institutions disintegrated rapidly. Learning by rote came to an end. Students attended seminars and labora- tories. University professors consecrated themselves to their edu- cational missions. The alumni of the universities became influen- tial in continuing educational reforms, as well as in promoting educational objectives through national political activities. Lower education for the masses, however, was still left in many instances to the Church, to the government, or to individuals themselves. Nevertheless, many important educational results had been achieved in the long centuries since the first Iberian set foot on the good earth of the Western Hemisphere. Academic training and religious teaching had combined to bring to the Spanish American lands an individualistic culture, perhaps not always well balanced, but ever striving toward an integrated ing students to charge that a professor was incompetent and thus force him to resign. Soon the university students in Peru were given the right to have a voice in the abolition of any chair of learning in any of the faculties. Under Haya de la Torre the students took a direct interest in trying to educate the masses in matters of sanitation, the harmful effects of alcohol, and the so- cial improvement of industrial suburbs of the cities. The use of student strikes in Peru became an important weapon of the Re- form Party in their relations with labor unions and the working classes. In Mexico the student movement got off to a later start. In 1921 the First International Congress of Students convened in Mexico City and agreed that it was essential for students to par- ticipate in university government. However, such student parti- cipation was not provided in the National University of Mexico until by law of 1929. Subsequently the Student Reform Move- ment spread into Cuba and Guatemala, and eventually to uni- versities throughout the continent. Thus in the years following the First World War, the old tra- dition of Church control of higher education with government support and the predominant importance of religious training in national educational institutions disintegrated rapidly. Learning by rote came to an end. Students attended seminars and labora- tories. University professors consecrated themselves to their edu- cational missions. The alumni of the universities became influen- tial in continuing educational reforms, as well as in promoting educational objectives through national political activities. Lower education for the masses, however, was still left in many instances to the Church, to the government, or to individuals themselves. Nevertheless, many important educational results had been achieved in the long centuries since the first Iberian set foot on the good earth of the Western Hemisphere. Academic training and religious teaching had combined to bring to the Spanish American lands an individualistic culture, perhaps not always well balanced, but ever striving toward an integrated  xxvi The Caribbean Christian society with the intellectual leisure of the Old World and the intelligent vision of the New. Educational activities and ideals had taken on a new meaning and they were headed in a new direction. A. CURns WILGUs, Director School of Inter-American Studies BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NoTE: Parts I and III of this paper are based on a section of "Some Religio-Educational Relationships in Spanish America" presented by the author at the Columbia University Bicentennial Confer- ence (October, 1954) on "Responsible Freedom in the Americas," the full proceedings of which will be published later in the year by Doubleday & Company, Inc., New York. These sections are used with permission. Part II is based to some extent on two papers by Ernesto Galarza, published by the Pan American Union (Bulletin [December, 1939], pp. 677-87) and by the United States Department of State (Principal Addresses. Conference on Inter-American Relations in the Field of Education, December, 1939). Other material comes from the author's Development of Hispanic America, first published in 1941. xxvi The Caribbean Christian society with the intellectual leisure of the Old World and the intelligent vision of the New. Educational activities and ideals had taken on a new meaning and they were headed in a new direction. A. CURTIs WILGUS, Director School of Inter-American Studies BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NoTE: Parts I and III of this paper are based on a section of "Some Religio-Educational Relationships in Spanish America" presented by the author at the Columbia University Bicentennial Confer- ence (October, 1954) on "Responsible Freedom in the Americas," the full proceedings of which will be published later in the year by Doubleday & Company, Inc., New York. These sections are used with permission. Part II is based to some extent on two papers by Ernesto Galarza, published by the Pan American Union (Bulletin [December, 1939], pp. 677-87) and by the United States Department of State (Principal Addresses. Conference on Inter-American Relations in the Field of Education, December, 1939). Other material comes from the author's Development of Hispanic America, first published in 1941. xxvi The Caribbean Christian society with the intellectual leisure of the Old World and the intelligent vision of the New. Educational activities and ideals had taken on a new meaning and they were headed in a new direction. A. CURTs WILGUs, Director School of Inter-American Studies BIBLIoGRAPHICAL NOTE: Parts I and III of this paper are based on a section of "Some Religio-Educational Relationships in Spanish America" presented by the author at the Columbia University Bicentennial Confer- ence (October, 1954) on "Responsible Freedom in the Americas," the full proceedings of which will be published later in the year by Doubleday & Company, Inc., New York. These sections are used with permission. Part II is based to some extent on two papers by Ernesto Galarza, published by the Pan American Union (Bulletin [December, 1939], pp. 677-87) and by the United States Department of State (Principal Addresses. Conference on Inter-American Relations in the Field of Education, December, 1939). Other material comes from the author's Development of Hispanic America, first published in 1941.  Part I Part I Part I THE ARTS THE ARTS THE ARTS   1 1 Florence Arquin: Two ASPECTS OF CARIBBEAN ART: MEXICO AND HAITI A SURVEY OF CONTEMPORARY PAINTING in the Carib- bean area reveals not only vigor and distinction, but, more signifi- cantly, the coexistence in reversed stages of development of two highly divergent art expressions. The older-much larger and of greater immediate conse- quence-is the well-established school of Mexican painting, now slowly approaching the period of decadence in the cycle of its evolution. This Mexican renaissance is a result of the combined efforts of a group of singularly talented, highly trained, and sophisticated professional artists who were dedicated to the de- velopment of an authentic national art. Despite magnificent easel painting, it remains essentially an art of murals and of broad social purpose, with roots deep in the political unrest and in the revolution which occurred there in the first part of the twentieth century. The other movement in Haiti, young, comparatively very small, and only now approaching maturity, is of singular inter- est because it springs from an intense personal need for creative expression by independent, generally untrained nonprofessional artists. Fundamentally, it is an art of easel painting, despite recent mural developments. It is of special consequence because it represents an accelerated activity in popular painting and, for 3 Florence Arquin: Two ASPECTS OF CARIBBEAN ART: MEXICO AND HAITI A SURVEY OF CONTEMPORARY PAINTING in the Carib- bean area reveals not only vigor and distinction, but, more signifi- cantly, the coexistence in reversed stages of development of two highly divergent art expressions. The older-much larger and of greater immediate conse- quence-is the well-established school of Mexican painting, now slowly approaching the period of decadence in the cycle of its evolution. This Mexican renaissance is a result of the combined efforts of a group of singularly talented, highly trained, and sophisticated professional artists who were dedicated to the de- velopment of an authentic national art. Despite magnificent easel painting, it remains essentially an art of murals and of broad social purpose, with roots deep in the political unrest and in the revolution which occurred there in the first part of the twentieth century. The other movement in Haiti, young, comparatively very small, and only now approaching maturity, is of singular inter- est because it springs from an intense personal need for creative expression by independent, generally untrained nonprofessional artists. Fundamentally, it is an art of easel painting, despite recent mural developments. It is of special consequence because it represents an accelerated activity in popular painting and, for 3 Florence Arquin: TWO ASPECTS OF CARIBBEAN ART: MEXICO AND HAITI A SURVEY OF CONTEMPORARY PAINTING in the Carib- bean area reveals not only vigor and distinction, but, more signifi- cantly, the coexistence in reversed stages of development of two highly divergent art expressions. The older-much larger and of greater immediate conse- quence-is the well-established school of Mexican painting, now slowly approaching the period of decadence in the cycle of its evolution. This Mexican renaissance is a result of the combined efforts of a group of singularly talented, highly trained, and sophisticated professional artists who were dedicated to the de- velopment of an authentic national art. Despite magnificent easel painting, it remains essentially an art of murals and of broad social purpose, with roots deep in the political unrest and in the revolution which occurred there in the first part of the twentieth century. The other movement in Haiti, young, comparatively very small, and only now approaching maturity, is of singular inter- est because it springs from an intense personal need for creative expression by independent, generally untrained nonprofessional artists. Fundamentally, it is an art of easel painting, despite recent mural developments. It is of special consequence because it represents an accelerated activity in popular painting and, for 3  4 The Caribbean the second time in this hemisphere and in this century, com- mands recognition of the insistence, contribution, and Esthetic tradition of folk art. The first recognition came in the early years of the renaissance in Mexico, when, in an effort to create this truly national and functional art, such painters as Dr. Ad (Gerardo Murillo), Ro- berto Montenegro, Adolfo Best-Maugard, Miguel Covarrubias, Diego Rivera, Jose Clemente Orozco, and others rediscovered the contribution of the Indian and revaluated the spirit and non- academic character of the folk arts. They realized that these arts had retained their basic indigenous personality and repre- sented a natural intimate expression closely integrated with every- day life. As a result, the folk art of Mexico exerted a profound influence upon mural and easel painting, as well as on art edu- cation of this period.' So great was this effect that the character- istics of folk art-large scale, bold flat pattern, simplicity of design, dramatization of color and theme, sensitivity in handling of materials, and a certain harshness and primitiveness which frequently make it distinctive-have become especially associated with the general concept of the Mexican school of contemporary easel painting and today still remain identified with it. Impres- sive, too, in relation to current developments in Haiti, is the sustained concern of present popular artists in Mexico with re- ligious as well as secular subjects. Today, in Haiti, the impor- tance of popular art achieves even greater significance with the ' The idealization of the Indian and of his cultural contribution, later referred to as Indianismo, stimulated painting in other countries of Latin America where indigenous Indian or comparable influences existed. Some leaders of these movements are: Josf Sabogal in Peru; Cecilio Guz- min de Rojas in Bolivia; Edouardo Kingman in Ecuador; Candido Portin- ari in Brazil. In the United States, the most direct influence came from personal contact with outstanding Latin American artists invited to this country to paint murals and to teach. A few such murals are at Dartmouth Col- lege (Orozco), New School for Social Research, New York City (Rivera), The Museum of Modern Art, New York City (Orozo), The Hispanic Foundation in the Library of Congress, Washington, D. C. (Portinari), and the Detroit Museum of Fine Arts (Rivera). 4 The Caribbean the second time in this hemisphere and in this century, com- mands recognition of the insistence, contribution, and Esthetic tradition of folk art. The first recognition came in the early years of the renaissance in Mexico, when, in an effort to create this truly national and functional art, such painters as Dr. Ad (Gerardo Murillo), Ro- berto Montenegro, Adolfo Best-Maugard, Miguel Covarrubias, Diego Rivera, Jose Clemente Orozco, and others rediscovered the contribution of the Indian and revaluated the spirit and non- academic character of the folk arts. They realized that these arts had retained their basic indigenous personality and repre- sented a natural intimate expression closely integrated with every- day life. As a result, the folk art of Mexico exerted a profound influence upon mural and easel painting, as well as on art edu- cation of this period.' So great was this effect that the character- istics of folk art-large scale, bold flat pattern, simplicity of design, dramatization of color and theme, sensitivity in handling of materials, and a certain harshness and primitiveness which frequently make it distinctive-have become especially associated with the general concept of the Mexican school of contemporary easel painting and today still remain identified with it. Impres- sive, too, in relation to current developments in Haiti, is the sustained concern of present popular artists in Mexico with re- ligious as well as secular subjects. Today, in Haiti, the impor- tance of popular art achieves even greater significance with the ' The idealization of the Indian and of his cultural contribution, later referred to as Indianismo, stimulated painting in other countries of Latin America where indigenous Indian or comparable influences existed. Some leaders of these movements are: Jos6 Sabogal in Peru; Cecilio Guz- mdn de Rojas in Bolivia; Edouardo Kingman in Ecuador; Candido Portin- ari in Brazil. In the United States, the most direct influence came from personal contact with outstanding Latin American artists invited to this country to paint murals and to teach. A few such murals are at Dartmouth Col- lege (Orozco), New School for Social Research, New York City (Rivera), The Museum of Modern Art, New York City (Orozo), The Hispanic Foundation in the Library of Congress, Washington, D. C. (Portinari), and the Detroit Museum of Fine Arts (Rivera). 4 The Caribbean the second time in this hemisphere and in this century, com- mands recognition of the insistence, contribution, and osthetic tradition of folk art. The first recognition came in the early years of the renaissance in Mexico, when, in an effort to create this truly national and functional art, such painters as Dr. Atl (Gerardo Murillo), Ro- berto Montenegro, Adolfo Best-Maugard, Miguel Covarrubias, Diego Rivera, Jose Clemente Orozco, and others rediscovered the contribution of the Indian and revaluated the spirit and non- academic character of the folk arts. They realized that these arts had retained their basic indigenous personality and repre- sented a natural intimate expression closely integrated with every- day life. As a result, the folk art of Mexico exerted a profound influence upon mural and easel painting, as well as on art edu- cation of this period.' So great was this effect that the character- istics of folk art-large scale, bold flat pattern, simplicity of design, dramatization of color and theme, sensitivity in handling of materials, and a certain harshness and primitiveness which frequently make it distinctive-have become especially associated with the general concept of the Mexican school of contemporary easel painting and today still remain identified with it. Impres- sive, too, in relation to current developments in Haiti, is the sustained concern of present popular artists in Mexico with re- ligious as well as secular subjects. Today, in Haiti, the impor- tance of popular art achieves even greater significance with the ' The idealization of the Indian and of his cultural contribution, later referred to as Indianismo, stimulated painting in other countries of Latin America where indigenous Indian or comparable influences existed. Some leaders of these movements are: Jose Sabogal in Peru; Cecilio Guz- msn de Rojas in Bolivia; Edouardo Kingman in Ecuador; Candido Portin- ari in Brazil. In the United States, the most direct influence came from personal contact with outstanding Latin American artists invited to this country to paint murals and to teach. A few such murals are at Dartmouth Col- lege (Orozco), New School for Social Research, New York City (Rivera), The Museum of Modern Art, New York City (Orozo), The Hispanic Foundation in the Library of Congress, Washington, D. C. (Portinari), and the Detroit Museum of Fine Arts (Rivera).  THE ARTS 5 phenomenon of a national art expression limited almost exclusively to this folk tradition. If painting is accepted as a tangible expression of human ex- perience, then these two art activities have as common background a cultural context which reflects the social, economic, political, and religious forces peculiar to each in its own particular time and environment. Environment-never static-continues to pro- duce art of ever-changing sequence and inevitably determines the character and cycle of each development. An equally determining force is the ethnocultural heritage. In Haiti the unique back- ground of African and European traditions produces art forms which differ greatly from those in Mexico, where tradition has evolved from indigenous Indian and European cultures. Contemporary painting in Mexico, with a prodigious expansion since 1920, is probably the most important and influential art movement in the Caribbean area, if not in the hemisphere. It owes this prominence not only to the rare genius and talents of the original leaders and their followers, but also to the revival of the fresco technique and the use of murals on a national scale to serve the objectives of a new social order. It becomes a bril- liant manifestation of the virility and tenacity of a rich osthetic tradition which evolved from highly developed pre-Conquest, Span- ish, and other European art. Without this special and particular cultural background, contemporary painting in Mexico as it ex- ists today may never have come to pass. In the era of national reconstruction following the revolution, the new Mexican government was sending her most talented artists to Europe to acquire proficiency and techniques and was also employing them to paint murals in public buildings. Thus, political activity served as a stimulus for the great artistic revival which was to follow. In promoting a national art to meet the specific needs of this period, Mexico was especially fortunate in THE ARTS 5 THE ARTS phenomenon of a national art expression limited almost exclusively to this folk tradition. If painting is accepted as a tangible expression of human ex- perience, then these two art activities have as common background a cultural context which reflects the social, economic, political, and religious forces peculiar to each in its own particular time and environment. Environment-never static-continues to pro- duce art of ever-changing sequence and inevitably determines the character and cycle of each development. An equally determining force is the ethnocultural heritage. In Haiti the unique back- ground of African and European traditions produces art forms which differ greatly from those in Mexico, where tradition has evolved from indigenous Indian and European cultures. Contemporary painting in Mexico, with a prodigious expansion since 1920, is probably the most important and influential art movement in the Caribbean area, if not in the hemisphere. It owes this prominence not only to the rare genius and talents of the original leaders and their followers, but also to the revival of the fresco technique and the use of murals on a national scale to serve the objectives of a new social order. It becomes a bril- liant manifestation of the virility and tenacity of a rich esthetic tradition which evolved from highly developed pre-Conquest, Span- ish, and other European art. Without this special and particular cultural background, contemporary painting in Mexico as it ex- ists today may never have come to pass. In the era of national reconstruction following the revolution, the new Mexican government was sending her most talented artists to Europe to acquire proficiency and techniques and was also employing them to paint murals in public buildings. Thus, political activity served as a stimulus for the great artistic revival which was to follow. In promoting a national art to meet the specific needs of this period, Mexico was especially fortunate in phenomenon of a national art expression limited almost exclusively to this folk tradition. If painting is accepted as a tangible expression of human ex- perience, then these two art activities have as common background a cultural context which reflects the social, economic, political, and religious forces peculiar to each in its own particular time and environment. Environment-never static-continues to pro- duce art of ever-changing sequence and inevitably determines the character and cycle of each development. An equally determining force is the ethnocultural heritage. In Haiti the unique back- ground of African and European traditions produces art forms which differ greatly from those in Mexico, where tradition has evolved from indigenous Indian and European cultures. Contemporary painting in Mexico, with a prodigious expansion since 1920, is probably the most important and influential art movement in the Caribbean area, if not in the hemisphere. It owes this prominence not only to the rare genius and talents of the original leaders and their followers, but also to the revival of the fresco technique and the use of murals on a national scale to serve the objectives of a new social order. It becomes a bril- liant manifestation of the virility and tenacity of a rich msthetic tradition which evolved from highly developed pre-Conquest, Span- ish, and other European art. Without this special and particular cultural background, contemporary painting in Mexico as it ex- ists today may never have come to pass. In the era of national reconstruction following the revolution, the new Mexican government was sending her most talented artists to Europe to acquire proficiency and techniques and was also employing them to paint murals in public buildings. Thus, political activity served as a stimulus for the great artistic revival which was to follow. In promoting a national art to meet the specific needs of this period, Mexico was especially fortunate in  6 The Caribbean having a large group of distinguished creative artists on whom it could draw. Among them were Dr. Atl, Orozco, Rivera, David Alfaro Siqueiros, Francisco Goitia, Montenegro, Fermin Revuel- tas, Manuel Rodriguez Lozano, Carlos Merida, and Jean Charlot -to name only a few whose contributions in both mural and easel paintings created this Mexican renaissance. In recognizing the role of the artist in the new social order, the state for the first time in Mexico became the patron of the arts and set a pattern since followed in various forms by other governments. The next ten years were a period of intense activity with Orozco, Siqueiros, Rivera, Montenegro, Charlot, and many others painting murals of social significance on the walls of public build- ings. These artists combined the life of Mexico, as subject matter, with the techniques and skills acquired through European and other training. By incorporating political and ideological con- tent in these frescoes, murals in Mexico became and still remain both the problem and critique of the Mexican Revolution. By replacing "Art for Art's Sake" with a new art of "content," in a period when Cubism was the accepted style in Paris, these artists not only re-established the respectability of subject matter, but brought about the first break with the tradition of French painting. When I discussed this development with Diego Rivera, he explained to me: "I believe the Cubist movement to be the most important achievement in plastic art since the Renaissance. However, I have always been a realist, even when I was working with the Cubists. That is why, in Paris, they used to call me the 'Courbet' of Cubism. I stopped painting in the Cubist man- ner because of my belief in the need for a popular and socialized art. It had to be a functional art related to the world and to the times, and also serve to help the masses to a better social organi- zation. In Cubism there are many elements that do not meet this specific need. Nevertheless, the plastic values of Cubism can be achieved without these limitations. In fact, I have never left 6 The Caribbean having a large group of distinguished creative artists on whom it could draw. Among them were Dr. Ad, Orozco, Rivera, David Alfaro Siqueiros, Francisco Goitia, Montenegro, Fermin Revuel- tas, Manuel Rodriguez Lozano, Carlos Merida, and Jean Charlot -to name only a few whose contributions in both mural and easel paintings created this Mexican renaissance. In recognizing the role of the artist in the new social order, the state for the first time in Mexico became the patron of the arts and set a pattern since followed in various forms by other governments. The next ten years were a period of intense activity with Orozco, Siqueiros, Rivera, Montenegro, Charlot, and many others painting murals of social significance on the walls of public build- ings. These artists combined the life of Mexico, as subject matter, with the techniques and skills acquired through European and other training. By incorporating political and ideological con- tent in these frescoes, murals in Mexico became and still remain both the problem and critique of the Mexican Revolution. By replacing "Art for Art's Sake" with a new art of "content," in a period when Cubism was the accepted style in Paris, these artists not only re-established the respectability of subject matter, but brought about the first break with the tradition of French painting. When I discussed this development with Diego Rivera, he explained to me: "I believe the Cubist movement to be the most important achievement in plastic art since the Renaissance. However, I have always been a realist, even when I was working with the Cubists. That is why, in Paris, they used to call me the 'Courbet' of Cubism. I stopped painting in the Cubist man- ner because of my belief in the need for a popular and socialized art. It had to be a functional art related to the world and to the times, and also serve to help the masses to a better social organi- zation. In Cubism there are many elements that do not meet this specific need. Nevertheless, the plastic values of Cubism can be achieved without these limitations. In fact, I have never left 6 The Caribbean having a large group of distinguished creative artists on whom it could draw. Among them were Dr. Ad, Orozco, Rivera, David Alfaro Siqueiros, Francisco Goitia, Montenegro, Fermin Revuel- tas, Manuel Rodriguez Lozano, Carlos Merida, and Jean Charlot -to name only a few whose contributions in both mural and easel paintings created this Mexican renaissance. In recognizing the role of the artist in the new social order, the state for the first time in Mexico became the patron of the arts and set a pattern since followed in various forms by other governments. The next ten years were a period of intense activity with Orozco, Siqueiros, Rivera, Montenegro, Charlot, and many others painting murals of social significance on the walls of public build- ings. These artists combined the life of Mexico, as subject matter, with the techniques and skills acquired through European and other training. By incorporating political and ideological con- tent in these frescoes, murals in Mexico became and still remain both the problem and critique of the Mexican Revolution. By replacing "Art for Art's Sake" with a new art of "content," in a period when Cubism was the accepted style in Paris, these artists not only re-established the respectability of subject matter, but brought about the first break with the tradition of French painting. When I discussed this development with Diego Rivera, he explained to me: "I believe the Cubist movement to be the most important achievement in plastic art since the Renaissance. However, I have always been a realist, even when I was working with the Cubists. That is why, in Paris, they used to call me the 'Courbet' of Cubism. I stopped painting in the Cubist man- ner because of my belief in the need for a popular and socialized art. It had to be a functional art related to the world and to the times, and also serve to help the masses to a better social organi- zation. In Cubism there are many elements that do not meet this specific need. Nevertheless, the plastic values of Cubism can be achieved without these limitations. In fact, I have never left  THE ARTS / Cubism. My paintings now are more truly Cubist than when they looked like Cubism." Except for a brief visit to Mexico, Diego Rivera had remained in Europe from 1907 until 1921, working with the Cubist group in Paris, and also studying the mosaics and frescoes in Italy. Especially inspired by Giotto's walls, covered with narratives of both didactic and decorative purpose, Rivera perceived the me- dium of the mural as a potential and powerful tool in promoting the ideals of a new socialized art. Precedent for this had already been established in Mexico by the indigenous Indian frescoes of the pre-Columbian period. Just as the story of Christianity was conveyed to the masses in Europe by Byzantine mural mosaics and early frescoes, so the ideology of the Mexican Revolution and the story of the Mexican people could be conveyed by this same means. In 1921 Rivera returned to Mexico and joined his fellow artists Orozco and Siqueiros in painting the first murals dedicated to this ideal of a national revolutionary art. In the beginning many artists experimented with mural paint- ing, but it remained for two of Mexico's greatest talents, Orozco and Rivera, to develop and perfect the techniques of fresco and to become the actual leaders of this movement. It is interesting to recall that in these early days, the Mexican people said of these two men, "Orozco paints with his heart, Diego Rivera with his head." Unlike Rivera, Orozco's Mexican subjects are never folkloric. His main concern was less with the appearance of his time than with the feeling of his time, which later earned him the title "Tragic Poet of the Revolution." In the beginning, his technique, like Rivera's, was in the tradition of the Renaissance in Europe. Color was limited and transparent, brush strokes fine and close together, and surfaces smooth. Drama, violence of feeling, pas- sionate humanitarianism, and frequently caustic satire were in- herent in his work from the very beginning. Later he became interested in the Byzantine tradition of fresco. Colors became THE ARTS I Cubism. My paintings now are more truly Cubist than when they looked like Cubism." Except for a brief visit to Mexico, Diego Rivera had remained in Europe from 1907 until 1921, working with the Cubist group in Paris, and also studying the mosaics and frescoes in Italy. Especially inspired by Giotto's walls, covered with narratives of both didactic and decorative purpose, Rivera perceived the me- dium of the mural as a potential and powerful tool in promoting the ideals of a new socialized art. Precedent for this had already been established in Mexico by the indigenous Indian frescoes of the pre-Columbian period. Just as the story of Christianity was conveyed to the masses in Europe by Byzantine mural mosaics and early frescoes, so the ideology of the Mexican Revolution and the story of the Mexican people could be conveyed by this same means. In 1921 Rivera returned to Mexico and joined his fellow artists Orozco and Siqueiros in painting the first murals dedicated to this ideal of a national revolutionary art. In the beginning many artists experimented with mural paint- ing, but it remained for two of Mexico's greatest talents, Orozco and Rivera, to develop and perfect the techniques of fresco and to become the actual leaders of this movement. It is interesting to recall that in these early days, the Mexican people said of these two men, "Orozco paints with his heart, Diego Rivera with his head." Unlike Rivera, Orozco's Mexican subjects are never folkloric. His main concern was less with the appearance of his time than with the feeling of his time, which later earned him the title "Tragic Poet of the Revolution." In the beginning, his technique, like Rivera's, was in the tradition of the Renaissance in Europe. Color was limited and transparent, brush strokes fine and close together, and surfaces smooth. Drama, violence of feeling, pas- sionate humanitarianism, and frequently caustic satire were in- herent in his work from the very beginning. Later he became interested in the Byzantine tradition of fresco. Colors became THE ARTS 7 Cubism. My paintings now are more truly Cubist than when they looked like Cubism." Except for a brief visit to Mexico, Diego Rivera had remained in Europe from 1907 until 1921, working with the Cubist group in Paris, and also studying the mosaics and frescoes in Italy. Especially inspired by Giotto's walls, covered with narratives of both didactic and decorative purpose, Rivera perceived the me- dium of the mural as a potential and powerful tool in promoting the ideals of a new socialized art. Precedent for this had already been established in Mexico by the indigenous Indian frescoes of the pre-Columbian period. Just as the story of Christianity was conveyed to the masses in Europe by Byzantine mural mosaics and early frescoes, so the ideology of the Mexican Revolution and the story of the Mexican people could be conveyed by this same means. In 1921 Rivera returned to Mexico and joined his fellow artists Orozco and Siqueiros in painting the first murals dedicated to this ideal of a national revolutionary art. In the beginning many artists experimented with mural paint- ing, but it remained for two of Mexico's greatest talents, Orozco and Rivera, to develop and perfect the techniques of fresco and to become the actual leaders of this movement. It is interesting to recall that in these early days, the Mexican people said of these two men, "Orozco paints with his heart, Diego Rivera with his head." Unlike Rivera, Orozco's Mexican subjects are never folkloric. His main concern was less with the appearance of his time than with the feeling of his time, which later earned him the title "Tragic Poet of the Revolution." In the beginning, his technique, like Rivera's, was in the tradition of the Renaissance in Europe. Color was limited and transparent, brush strokes fine and close together, and surfaces smooth. Drama, violence of feeling, pas- sionate humanitarianism, and frequently caustic satire were in- herent in his work from the very beginning. Later be became interested in the Byzantine tradition of fresco. Colors became  8 The Caribbean vivid and opaque, movement violent, brush strokes spontaneous, large, and direct. Walls were no longer plastered first and then painted. Instead, Orozco plastered as he painted-actually mix- ing his colors with wet plaster for his background areas-and organized his composition by use of strong black and white lines. Emotional qualities became even more impassioned, sustained, and intense. His early work reflects the influence of his European visit of 1922, and the murals at Dartmouth College in the United States, ten years later, mark the turning point of his style, which becomes increasingly less national and more international in spir- it. It is especially revealing today that Rivera, some ten years ago, should have said to me, "You know, we have one great genius in Mexico-Jose Clemente Orozco." Diego Rivera's own and particular genius is expressed in the manner in which he organizes his material into a compact unit. In general, his compositions are characterized by largeness of conception and rigidly held designs which, in their tendency to retain wall surfaces, give evidence of his training in Cubism and his adherence to that school of painting. Once, when we dis- cussed the evolution of his painting, he explained, "Most critics seem to agree in thinking that my Chapingo murals are my best, probably because in these frescoes I have adhered more closely to the accepted tradition of mural painting. However, I cannot agree that they are my most important work because I have not done anything new in them. For me, the more important ones are those, like the stairway of the National Palace, in which I have attempted to portray the whole dialectic development of the life of one nation from the far past to the future; use the epic material of Mexico's race saga, and for the first time create a national expression which, despite subject matter, fundamentally depends upon the immutable elements of art." This, in his own words, defines the contribution of Diego Rivera to the art of his time. It is problematical whether the genius of Orozco and Rivera and the talents of the other founders and pioneers in this Mexican 8 The Caribbean vivid and opaque, movement violent, brush strokes spontaneous, large, and direct. Walls were no longer plastered first and then painted. Instead, Orozco plastered as he painted-actually mix- ing his colors with wet plaster for his background areas-and organized his composition by use of strong black and white lines. Emotional qualities became even more impassioned, sustained, and intense. His early work reflects the influence of his European visit of 1922, and the murals at Dartmouth College in the United States, ten years later, mark the turning point of his style, which becomes increasingly less national and more international in spir- it. It is especially revealing today that Rivera, some ten years ago, should have said to me, "You know, we have one great genius in Mexico-Jose Clemente Orozco." Diego Rivera's own and particular genius is expressed in the manner in which he organizes his material into a compact unit. In general, his compositions are characterized by largeness of conception and rigidly held designs which, in their tendency to retain wall surfaces, give evidence of his training in Cubism and his adherence to that school of painting. Once, when we dis- cussed the evolution of his painting, he explained, "Most critics seem to agree in thinking that my Chapingo murals are my best, probably because in these frescoes I have adhered more closely to the accepted tradition of mural painting. However, I cannot agree that they are my most important work because I have not done anything new in them. For me, the more important ones are those, like the stairway of the National Palace, in which I have attempted to portray the whole dialectic development of the life of one nation from the far past to the future; use the epic material of Mexico's race saga, and for the first time create a national expression which, despite subject matter, fundamentally depends upon the immutable elements of art." This, in his own words, defines the contribution of Diego Rivera to the art of his time. It is problematical whether the genius of Orozco and Rivera and the talents of the other founders and pioneers in this Mexican 8 The Caribbean vivid and opaque, movement violent, brush strokes spontaneous, large, and direct. Walls were no longer plastered first and then painted. Instead, Orozco plastered as he painted-actually mix- ing his colors with wet plaster for his background areas-and organized his composition by use of strong black and white lines. Emotional qualities became even more impassioned, sustained, and intense. His early work reflects the influence of his European visit of 1922, and the murals at Dartmouth College in the United States, ten years later, mark the turning point of his style, which becomes increasingly less national and more international in spir- it. It is especially revealing today that Rivera, some ten years ago, should have said to me, "You know, we have one great genius in Mexico-Josd Clemente Orozco." Diego Rivera's own and particular genius is expressed in the manner in which he organizes his material into a compact unit. In general, his compositions are characterized by largeness of conception and rigidly held designs which, in their tendency to retain wall surfaces, give evidence of his training in Cubism and his adherence to that school of painting. Once, when we dis- cussed the evolution of his painting, he explained, "Most critics seem to agree in thinking that my Chapingo murals are my best, probably because in these frescoes I have adhered more closely to the accepted tradition of mural painting. However, I cannot agree that they are my most important work because I have not done anything new in them. For me, the more important ones are those, like the stairway of the National Palace, in which I have attempted to portray the whole dialectic development of the life of one nation from the far past to the future; use the epic material of Mexico's race saga, and for the first time create a national expression which, despite subject matter, fundamentally depends upon the immutable elements of art." This, in his own words, defines the contribution of Diego Rivera to the art of his time. It is problematical whether the genius of Orozco and Rivera and the talents of the other founders and pioneers in this Mexican  THE ARTS 9 renaissance would, in themselves, have been sufficient to sustain this revival of painting for so long a period, had not the general enthusiasm of the day generated an intellectual and artistic cli- mate which produced such artists as Juan O'Gorman, Pablo O'Hig- gins, Carlos Orozco Romero, Julio Castellanos, Alfredo Zalce, and others, who joined their ranks. All these artists, including the "pioneers," were preceded in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries by two men who, through the individuality of their own work, were destined to establish certain specific directions and idioms of expression which were to be incorporated into this movement. They were Jose Maria Velasco (1840-1912), the painter now famous for his land- scapes of Mexico, and the brilliant and prolific popular engraver, Jose Guadalupe Posada (1851-1913). The popular tradition of art today achieves even greater stat- ure than ever with the emergence and recognition of the "folk" personality of the man whom Rivera calls his teacher. Posada is now known not only as the greatest printmaker in Mexico but also as the first representative of the independent movement in Mexican art. He was one of the first to draw inspiration from Mexico's social issues, using the skeleton, the common denominator of all mankind and the symbol of biological equality, as the al- lusion to a desired social equality. Bitter, caustic, political and social satire endeared him to the generally illiterate, though mesthetically appreciative audience of his day. Now he is as close- ly associated with Mexico as Goya is with Spain or Daumier with France. Leopoldo Mendez, his most gifted disciple in the graphic arts, continues the tradition he established. Diego Rivera pays tribute to Posada in his fresco at the Hotel Prado. Here he paints himself, the artist, always the child, hold- ing the hand of a skeleton whose skull is that of Posada's famous "Calavera Catrina," the female dandy. This was one of Posada's bitter satires against the heartless extravagance of a bourgeoisie in a period of grievous poverty and acute need. The position of the skeleton, placed between Diego and his portrait of Posada, joins THE ARTS 9 THE ARTS renaissance would, in themselves, have been sufficient to sustain this revival of painting for so long a period, had not the general enthusiasm of the day generated an intellectual and artistic cli- mate which produced such artists as Juan O'Gorman, Pablo O'Hig- gins, Carlos Orozco Romero, Julio Castellanos, Alfredo Zalce, and others, who joined their ranks. All these artists, including the "pioneers," were preceded in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries by two men who, through the individuality of their own work, were destined to establish certain specific directions and idioms of expression which were to be incorporated into this movement. They were Jose Maria Velasco (1840-1912), the painter now famous for his land- scapes of Mexico, and the brilliant and prolific popular engraver, Jose Guadalupe Posada (1851-1913). The popular tradition of art today achieves even greater stat- ure than ever with the emergence and recognition of the "folk" personality of the man whom Rivera calls his teacher. Posada is now known not only as the greatest printmaker in Mexico but also as the first representative of the independent movement in Mexican art. He was one of the first to draw inspiration from Mexico's social issues, using the skeleton, the common denominator of all mankind and the symbol of biological equality, as the al- lusion to a desired social equality. Bitter, caustic, political and social satire endeared him to the generally illiterate, though smsthetically appreciative audience of his day. Now he is as close- ly associated with Mexico as Goya is with Spain or Daumier with France. Leopoldo Mendez, his most gifted disciple in the graphic arts, continues the tradition he established. Diego Rivera pays tribute to Posada in his fresco at the Hotel Prado. Here he paints himself, the artist, always the child, hold- ing the hand of a skeleton whose skull is that of Posada's famous "Calavera Catrina," the female dandy. This was one of Posada's bitter satires against the heartless extravagance of a bourgeoisie in a period of grievous poverty and acute need. The position of the skeleton, placed between Diego and his portrait of Posada, joins renaissance would, in themselves, have been sufficient to sustain this revival of painting for so long a period, had not the general enthusiasm of the day generated an intellectual and artistic cli- mate which produced such artists as Juan O'Gorman, Pablo O'Hig- gins, Carlos Orozco Romero, Julio Castellanos, Alfredo Zalce, and others, who joined their ranks. All these artists, including the "pioneers," were preceded in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries by two men who, through the individuality of their own work, weere destined to establish certain specific directions and idioms of expression which were to be incorporated into this movement. They were Jose Maria Velasco (1840-1912), the painter now famous for his land- scapes of Mexico, and the brilliant and prolific popular engraver, Jose Guadalupe Posada (1851-1913). The popular tradition of art today achieves even greater stat- ure than ever with the emergence and recognition of the "folk" personality of the man whom Rivera calls his teacher. Posada is now known not only as the greatest printmaker in Mexico but also as the first representative of the independent movement in Mexican art. He was one of the first to draw inspiration from Mexico's social issues, using the skeleton, the common denominator of all mankind and the symbol of biological equality, as the al- lusion to a desired social equality. Bitter, caustic, political and social satire endeared him to the generally illiterate, though esthetically appreciative audience of his day. Now he is as close- ly associated with Mexico as Goya is with Spain or Daumier with France. Leopoldo Mendez, his most gifted disciple in the graphic arts, continues the tradition he established. Diego Rivera pays tribute to Posada in his fresco at the Hotel Prado. Here he paints himself, the artist, always the child, hold- ing the hand of a skeleton whose skull is that of Posada's famous "Calavera Catrina," the female dandy. This was one of Posada's bitter satires against the heartless extravagance of a bourgeoisie in a period of grievous poverty and acute need. The position of the skeleton, placed between Diego and his portrait of Posada, joins  10 The Caribbean master and student in a dedication to the portrayal of Mexican social problems. II Recognition of the role and the tremendous influence of popu- lar art in general, and the contribution of this Mexican folk personality in particular, suggest the need for careful evaluation of the activity current in Haiti today. For here an entire art movement is being created and expressed in the idiom of popular art. It also poses the challenging question: what are the potential influences of this development on the painting of Haiti of the future. The approval and acceptance of this folk art cannot be viewed entirely without suspicion, since it is current fashion to admire or profess to admire primitive painting and primitive art. Actually, Haitian folk art does not fall into this large general classification, if we define primitive art as a very early form from which a more complete one is to evolve. It is not denied that popular or folk art in Haiti is created by people of little if any academic training or knowledge of art techniques. Special circumstances isolated them from such techni- cal knowledge, from exhibitions, journals, and other sources of influences. They therefore remained absorbed in the particular expression of their own talents. These paintings possess a high degree of feeling for design, a lively sense of poetic mysticism, and, occasionally, a sly, quiet humor. They also express what the artist knows rather than what he actually sees. The result achieves a simple artistic daring which magnifies facts, ignores academic perspective, employs brilliant color in flat pattern, and frequently stresses minute realistic detail with painting of meticu- lous precision. As subject, the Haitian artist documents his own existing cul- tural patterns. These paintings of realistic dramatization of native life, historic events, folklore, and religious themes bring to con- 10 The Caribbean master and student in a dedication to the portrayal of Mexican social problems. II Recognition of the role and the tremendous influence of popu- lar art in general, and the contribution of this Mexican folk personality in particular, suggest the need for careful evaluation of the activity current in Haiti today. For here an entire art movement is being created and expressed in the idiom of popular art. It also poses the challenging question: what are the potential influences of this development on the painting of Haiti of the future. The approval and acceptance of this folk art cannot be viewed entirely without suspicion, since it is current fashion to admire or profess to admire primitive painting and primitive art. Actually, Haitian folk art does not fall into this large general classification, if we define primitive art as a very early form from which a more complete one is to evolve. It is not denied that popular or folk art in Haiti is created by people of little if any academic training or knowledge of art techniques. Special circumstances isolated them from such techni- cal knowledge, from exhibitions, journals, and other sources of influences. They therefore remained absorbed in the particular expression of their own talents. These paintings possess a high degree of feeling for design, a lively sense of poetic mysticism, and, occasionally, a sly, quiet humor. They also express what the artist knows rather than what he actually sees. The result achieves a simple artistic daring which magnifies facts, ignores academic perspective, employs brilliant color in flat pattern, and frequently stresses minute realistic detail with painting of meticu- lous precision. As subject, the Haitian artist documents his own existing cul- tural patterns. These paintings of realistic dramatization of native life, historic events, folklore, and religious themes bring to con- 10 The Caribbean master and student in a dedication to the portrayal of Mexican social problems. II Recognition of the role and the tremendous influence of popu- lar art in general, and the contribution of this Mexican folk personality in particular, suggest the need for careful evaluation of the activity current in Haiti today. For here an entire art movement is being created and expressed in the idiom of popular art. It also poses the challenging question: what are the potential influences of this development on the painting of Haiti of the future. The approval and acceptance of this folk art cannot be viewed entirely without suspicion, since it is current fashion to admire or profess to admire primitive painting and primitive art. Actually, Haitian folk art does not fall into this large general classification, if we define primitive art as a very early form from which a more complete one is to evolve. It is not denied that popular or folk art in Haiti is created by people of little if any academic training or knowledge of art techniques. Special circumstances isolated them from such techni- cal knowledge, from exhibitions, journals, and other sources of influences. They therefore remained absorbed in the particular expression of their own talents. These paintings possess a high degree of feeling for design, a lively sense of poetic mysticism, and, occasionally, a sly, quiet humor. They also express what the artist knows rather than what he actually sees. The result achieves a simple artistic daring which magnifies facts, ignores academic perspective, employs brilliant color in flat pattern, and frequently stresses minute realistic detail with painting of meticu- lous precision. As subject, the Haitian artist documents his own existing cul- tural patterns. These paintings of realistic dramatization of native life, historic events, folklore, and religious themes bring to con-  THE ARTS 11 temporary painting in general, and to this Haitian painting in particular, a refreshing vitality and innocence of vision. They also disclose the Haitian Negro's osthetic awarenesses and in- tuitive sensitivity, his capacity for penetrative thinking and deep feeling, his ability to organize and to interpret his own expe- riences in his own time. The techniques of folk art in Haiti differ very little, if any, from those found in Mexico, because artists in both countries came to painting from similar impulses. The history of folk art shows that earlier folk painters turned to picturemaking from wood carving, sign painting, and other crafts. Similarly, today's popular painters in Haiti were tailors, carpenters, mechanics, sign painters, and house painters. Equally relevant is the fact that although all, from an academic point of view, are untrained, they seem to have certain basic qualities in common. All are ex- perienced in coordinating the activity of their hands and of their eyes, intuitively know how to place emphasis upon the essential, and, while frequently nonrealistic in representation, neverthe- less create paintings rich in human interest and possessing great emotional force. Fortunately, art depends upon psychological and emotional needs which are deeper than formal education. The folk artist of Haiti, impelled by his own need and by the logic of his own background, has worked out his own tradition of popular expression. The establishment of a Centre d'Art, begun in Port-au-Prince in 1944 with financial assistance from the Haitian government and from the government of the United States, was the first offi- cial support of the popular artist there. The Centre was con- ceived and organized by DeWitt Peters, a painter from the United States, under whose able and sympathetic direction it has since functioned. His primary objective was to encourage and assist the aspiring and little-known, though talented, native painter to gain recognition from his own people and from the outside world. Inevitably, the Centre is serving to release the rich creative ener- gies inherent in this country. THE ARTS II temporary painting in general, and to this Haitian painting in particular, a refreshing vitality and innocence of vision. They also disclose the Haitian Negro's osthetic awarenesses and in- tuitive sensitivity, his capacity for penetrative thinking and deep feeling, his ability to organize and to interpret his own expe- riences in his own time. The techniques of folk art in Haiti differ very little, if any, from those found in Mexico, because artists in both countries came to painting from similar impulses. The history of folk art shows that earlier folk painters turned to picturemaking from wood carving, sign painting, and other crafts. Similarly, today's popular painters in Haiti were tailors, carpenters, mechanics, sign painters, and house painters. Equally relevant is the fact that although all, from an academic point of view, are untrained, they seem to have certain basic qualities in common. All are ex- perienced in coordinating the activity of their hands and of their eyes, intuitively know how to place emphasis upon the essential, and, while frequently nonrealistic in representation, neverthe- less create paintings rich in human interest and possessing great emotional force. Fortunately, art depends upon psychological and emotional needs which are deeper than formal education. The folk artist of Haiti, impelled by his own need and by the logic of his own background, has worked out his own tradition of popular expression. The establishment of a Centre d'Art, begun in Port-au-Prince in 1944 with financial assistance from the Haitian government and from the government of the United States, was the first offi- cial support of the popular artist there. The Centre was con- ceived and organized by DeWitt Peters, a painter from the United States, under whose able and sympathetic direction it has since functioned. His primary objective was to encourage and assist the aspiring and little-known, though talented, native painter to gain recognition from his own people and from the outside world. Inevitably, the Centre is serving to release the rich creative ener- gies inherent in this country. THE ARTS 11 temporary painting in general, and to this Haitian painting in particular, a refreshing vitality and innocence of vision. They also disclose the Haitian Negro's osthetic awarenesses and in- tuitive sensitivity, his capacity for penetrative thinking and deep feeling, his ability to organize and to interpret his own expe- riences in his own time. The techniques of folk art in Haiti differ very little, if any, from those found in Mexico, because artists in both countries came to painting from similar impulses. The history of folk art shows that earlier folk painters turned to picturemaking from wood carving, sign painting, and other crafts. Similarly, today's popular painters in Haiti were tailors, carpenters, mechanics, sign painters, and house painters. Equally relevant is the fact that although all, from an academic point of view, are untrained, they seem to have certain basic qualities in common. All are ex- perienced in coordinating the activity of their hands and of their eyes, intuitively know how to place emphasis upon the essential, and, while frequently nonrealistic in representation, neverthe- less create paintings rich in human interest and possessing great emotional force. Fortunately, art depends upon psychological and emotional needs which are deeper than formal education. The folk artist of Haiti, impelled by his own need and by the logic of his own background, has worked out his own tradition of popular expression. The establishment of a Centre d'Art, begun in Port-au-Prince in 1944 with financial assistance from the Haitian government and from the government of the United States, was the first offi- cial support of the popular artist there. The Centre was con- ceived and organized by DeWitt Peters, a painter from the United States, under whose able and sympathetic direction it has since functioned. His primary objective was to encourage and assist the aspiring and little-known, though talented, native painter to gain recognition from his own people and from the outside world. Inevitably, the Centre is serving to release the rich creative ener- gies inherent in this country.  12 The Caribbean Essential in the development of this tradition of popular art is the cultural heritage of Africa, which includes the religion of Vodun, derived from a background of African theology and ceremonialism.2 It is the folk religion of Haiti and, like other religions in other times and with other races, still serves as a strong stimulus to artistic expression. As the nonacademic, unconventional tradition of folk art sur- vived in Mexico and paralleled official academic art of past years, and indigenous Indian religions of some countries of Latin Ameri- ca parallel the official religion of Catholicism today, so in Haiti the popular, deeply ingrained, unofficial folk religion, Vodun, par- allels Catholicism there. Neither has been dominated by the other, although certain psychological reconciliations have been effected between them. To many Haitian Negroes these recon- ciliations in religious concepts permit harmonious dual existence of both African and Catholic beliefs, each in its own sphere. The importance and intensity of religious life in Haiti is paralleled in this renaissance of folk art by the unique phenomenon of a revival of religious art which incorporates iconography and sym- bolism of both Vodun and Catholicism. Occasionally, a religious painting may suggest traditional art in spirit, but usually it expresses the very personal concept of the individual artist. In this connection, the paintings of Hector Hip- polite, a Vodun priest and an artist, are of singular interest. Hip- polite, one of the most truly talented members of the Centre d'Art group, died in 1949. His work is distinguished by a strange, flamboyant fantasy and vivid, weird imagination which, com- bined with such subjects as folklore, magic, and Vodun, create the mood of surrealism. Despite the comparative youth of both the participating artists and the art movement itself, and the lack of talents comparable to those which created the school of Mexican painting, the prog- ress and direction of development in recent years are portentous ' The author adopts the spelling of voodoo used by Professor Herskovits, authority on the culture of the New World Negro. 12 The Caribbean Essential in the development of this tradition of popular art is the cultural heritage of Africa, which includes the religion of Vodun, derived from a background of African theology and ceremonialism.? It is the folk religion of Haiti and, like other religions in other times and with other races, still serves as a strong stimulus to artistic expression. As the nonacademic, unconventional tradition of folk art sur- vived in Mexico and paralleled official academic art of past years, and indigenous Indian religions of some countries of Latin Ameri- ca parallel the official religion of Catholicism today, so in Haiti the popular, deeply ingrained, unofficial folk religion, Vodun, par- allels Catholicism there. Neither has been dominated by the other, although certain psychological reconciliations have been effected between them. To many Haitian Negroes these recon- ciliations in religious concepts permit harmonious dual existence of both African and Catholic beliefs, each in its own sphere. The importance and intensity of religious life in Haiti is paralleled in this renaissance of folk art by the unique phenomenon of a revival of religious art which incorporates iconography and sym- bolism of both Vodun and Catholicism. Occasionally, a religious painting may suggest traditional art in spirit, but usually it expresses the very personal concept of the individual artist. In this connection, the paintings of Hector Hip- polite, a Vodun priest and an artist, are of singular interest. Hip- polite, one of the most truly talented members of the Centre d'Art group, died in 1949. His work is distinguished by a strange, flamboyant fantasy and vivid, weird imagination which, com- bined with such subjects as folklore, magic, and Vodun, create the mood of surrealism. Despite the comparative youth of both the participating artists and the art movement itself, and the lack of talents comparable to those which created the school of Mexican painting, the prog- ress and direction of development in recent years are portentous 2 The author adopts the spelling of voodoo used by Professor Herskovits, authority on the culture of the New World Negro. 12 The Caribbean Essential in the development of this tradition of popular art is the cultural heritage of Africa, which includes the religion of Vodun, derived from a background of African theology and ceremonialism.' It is the folk religion of Haiti and, like other religions in other times and with other races, still serves as a strong stimulus to artistic expression. As the nonacademic, unconventional tradition of folk art sur- vived in Mexico and paralleled official academic art of past years, and indigenous Indian religions of some countries of Latin Ameri- ca parallel the official religion of Catholicism today, so in Haiti the popular, deeply ingrained, unofficial folk religion, Vodun, par- allels Catholicism there. Neither has been dominated by the other, although certain psychological reconciliations have been effected between them. To many Haitian Negroes these recon- ciliations in religious concepts permit harmonious dual existence of both African and Catholic beliefs, each in its own sphere. The importance and intensity of religious life in Haiti is paralleled in this renaissance of folk art by the unique phenomenon of a revival of religious art which incorporates iconography and sym- bolism of both Vodun and Catholicism. Occasionally, a religious painting may suggest traditional art in spirit, but usually it expresses the very personal concept of the individual artist. In this connection, the paintings of Hector Hip- polite, a Vodun priest and an artist, are of singular interest. flip- polite, one of the most truly talented members of the Centre d'Art group, died in 1949. His work is distinguished by a strange, flamboyant fantasy and vivid, weird imagination which, com- bined with such subjects as folklore, magic, and Vodun, create the mood of surrealism. Despite the comparative youth of both the participating artists and the art movement itself, and the lack of talents comparable to those which created the school of Mexican painting, the prog- ress and direction of development in recent years are portentous ' The author adopts the spelling of voodoo used by Professor ierskovits, authority on the culture of the New World Negro.  THE ARTS 13 THE ARTS 13 THE ARTS 13 and challenging. Experiments with mural techniques and actual painting of murals in increasing numbers by the now more expe- rienced artists of the original group suggest a change of interest and emphasis from easel to mural painting, and from highly individual spontaneous expression to one representing a more deliberate and disciplined group activity. In 1950 the artists Philome Obin, Rigaud Benoit, Castera Bazile, and Gabriel Leveque were com- missioned to paint murals on the walls of the new Trinite Cathe- dral in Port-au-Prince. Here, they have now produced not only the most ambitious religious painting in Haiti's renaissance of popular art but probably the most representative and distinguished. The painting of walls is not new in the art tradition of Haiti. It is part of her African heritage, which includes the decoration of house walls with pictograms, formal designs, and geometric shapes. Today, in Haiti's less accessible areas, such decorations are still to be found. III The questions that now present themselves are whether pres- ent mural painting is merely wall decoration created by the use of enlarged easel painting produced directly upon such surfaces, or whether, at this stage of development, the Haitian popular artists have already apprehended the complex problems of true mural composition and are prepared to amplify the tradition of folk art in this medium. Another and even more tantalizing question presents itself in relation to the status of Mexican art today. It is almost thirty-five years since the first murals in the new Mexican renaissance were painted. Until recently, Rivera and Orozco, the two great lead- ers of the Mexican mural tradition-older, wiser, and more pro- found-continued to enrich this tradition which they in great part had created. Now Orozco is dead, and Rivera, saddened by the recent death of his talented painter-wife, Frieda Kahlo, and weakened by continued ill health, remains alone, to continue his "mission." For Rivera, in his murals, still retains the single ideol- and challenging. Experiments with mural techniques and actual painting of murals in increasing numbers by the now more expe- rienced artists of the original group suggest a change of interest and emphasis from easel to mural painting, and from highly individual spontaneous expression to one representing a more deliberate and disciplined group activity. In 1950 the artists Philome Obin, Rigaud Benoit, Castera Bazile, and Gabriel Leveque were com- missioned to paint murals on the walls of the new Trinite Cathe- dral in Port-au-Prince. Here, they have now produced not only the most ambitious religious painting in Haiti's renaissance of popular art but probably the most representative and distinguished. The painting of walls is not new in the art tradition of Haiti. It is part of her African heritage, which includes the decoration of house walls with pictograms, formal designs, and geometric shapes. Today, in Haiti's less accessible areas, such decorations are still to be found. III The questions that now present themselves are whether pres- ent mural painting is merely wall decoration created by the use of enlarged easel painting produced directly upon such surfaces, or whether, at this stage of development, the Haitian popular artists have already apprehended the complex problems of true mural composition and are prepared to amplify the tradition of folk art in this medium. Another and even more tantalizing question presents itself in relation to the status of Mexican art today. It is almost thirty-five years since the first murals in the new Mexican renaissance weere painted. Until recently, Rivera and Orozco, the two great lead- ers of the Mexican mural tradition-older, wiser, and more pro- found-continued to enrich this tradition which they in great part had created. Now Orozco is dead, and Rivera, saddened by the recent death of his talented painter-wife, Frieda Kahlo, and weakened by continued ill health, remains alone, to continue his "mission." For Rivera, in his murals, still retains the single ideol- and challenging. Experiments with mural techniques and actual painting of murals in increasing numbers by the now more expe- rienced artists of the original group suggest a change of interest and emphasis from easel to mural painting, and from highly individual spontaneous expression to one representing a more deliberate and disciplined group activity. In 1950 the artists Philome Obin, Rigaud Benoit, Castera Bazile, and Gabriel Leveque were com- missioned to paint murals on the walls of the new Trinite Cathe- dral in Port-au-Prince. Here, they have now produced not only the most ambitious religious painting in Haiti's renaissance of popular art but probably the most representative and distinguished. The painting of walls is not new in the art tradition of Haiti. It is part of her African heritage, which includes the decoration of house walls with pictograms, formal designs, and geometric shapes. Today, in Haiti's less accessible areas, such decorations are still to be found. III The questions that now present themselves are whether pres- ent mural painting is merely wall decoration created by the use of enlarged easel painting produced directly upon such surfaces, or whether, at this stage of development, the Haitian popular artists have already apprehended the complex problems of true mural composition and are prepared to amplify the tradition of folk art in this medium. Another and even more tantalizing question presents itself in relation to the status of Mexican art today. It is almost thirty-five years since the first murals in the new Mexican renaissance were painted. Until recently, Rivera and Orozco, the two great lead- ers of the Mexican mural tradition-older, wiser, and more pro- found-continued to enrich this tradition which they in great part had created. Now Orozco is dead, and Rivera, saddened by the recent death of his talented painter-wife, Frieda Kahlo, and weakened by continued ill health, remains alone, to continue his "mission." For Rivera, in his murals, still retains the single ideol-  14 The Caribbean ogy of Mexican revolutionary art, while Orozco, always the philosophical anarchist, in his later work portrayed those aspects of suffering and aspiration of the human spirit which are uni- versal and not exclusively national. Enthusiasm and fervor for the Mexican Revolution have waned as social, political, and eco- nomic conditions improved. With these changes, the need for murals of broad social pur- pose is no longer urgent. The new generation of excellent artists, Guillermo Meza, Ricardo Martinez, Francisco Gutierrez, Ra6l Anguiano, Jose Chaves Morado, Olga Costa, and many others are attempting to assert their own creative personalities rather than to follow Mexican traditional forms and subjects. This tendency is not a completely new development. It has always existed and was given forceful expression from the very beginning of the rise of the Mexican movement by such Mexican artists as Carlos Merida, Rufino Tamayo, and their followers. The recent acceler- ated pace of this tendency is new, as is the belated recognition of the great talent of Tamayo and his place among the leaders of contemporary Mexican art. Despite differences in ideology and objectives, the national character of contemporary painting continues to be expressed in the commonly shared sense of plastic values and an unmistakable racial flavor which is Mexican. Today, with Mexican artists turn- ing once again to Europe and especially to Paris for inspiration, history is repeated. For this was the status of painting in Mexico before the recent Mexican renaissance. It is hoped that repetition may be carried still further, and that a second Mexican renais- sance of different character and emphasis and with new leaders may be in the making. 14 The Caribbean 14 The Caribbean ogy of Mexican revolutionary art, while Orozco, always the philosophical anarchist, in his later work portrayed those aspects of suffering and aspiration of the human spirit which are uni- versal and not exclusively national. Enthusiasm and fervor for the Mexican Revolution have waned as social, political, and eco- nomic conditions improved. With these changes, the need for murals of broad social pur- pose is no longer urgent. The new generation of excellent artists, Guillermo Meza, Ricardo Martinez, Francisco Gutierrez, Ra6il Anguiano, Jose Chaves Morado, Olga Costa, and many others are attempting to assert their own creative personalities rather than to follow Mexican traditional forms and subjects. This tendency is not a completely new development. It has always existed and was given forceful expression from the very beginning of the rise of the Mexican movement by such Mexican artists as Carlos Merida, Rufino Tamayo, and their followers. The recent acceler- ated pace of this tendency is new, as is the belated recognition of the great talent of Tamayo and his place among the leaders of contemporary Mexican art. Despite differences in ideology and objectives, the national character of contemporary painting continues to be expressed in the commonly shared sense of plastic values and an unmistakable racial flavor which is Mexican. Today, with Mexican artists turn- ing once again to Europe and especially to Paris for inspiration, history is repeated. For this was the status of painting in Mexico before the recent Mexican renaissance. It is hoped that repetition may be carried still further, and that a second Mexican renais- sance of different character and emphasis and with new leaders may be in the making. ogy of Mexican revolutionary art, while Orozco, always the philosophical anarchist, in his later work portrayed those aspects of suffering and aspiration of the human spirit which are uni- versal and not exclusively national. Enthusiasm and fervor for the Mexican Revolution have waned as social, political, and eco- nomic conditions improved. With these changes, the need for murals of broad social pur- pose is no longer urgent. The new generation of excellent artists, Guillermo Meza, Ricardo Martinez, Francisco Gutierrez, Ra6l Anguiano, Jose Chives Morado, Olga Costa, and many others are attempting to assert their own creative personalities rather than to follow Mexican traditional forms and subjects. This tendency is not a completely new development. It has always existed and was given forceful expression from the very beginning of the rise of the Mexican movement by such Mexican artists as Carlos Mdrida, Rufino Tamayo, and their followers. The recent acceler- ated pace of this tendency is new, as is the belated recognition of the great talent of Tamayo and his place among the leaders of contemporary Mexican art. Despite differences in ideology and objectives, the national character of contemporary painting continues to be expressed in the commonly shared sense of plastic values and an unmistakable racial flavor which is Mexican. Today, with Mexican artists turn- ing once again to Europe and especially to Paris for inspiration, history is repeated. For this was the status of painting in Mexico before the recent Mexican renaissance. It is hoped that repetition may be carried still further, and that a second Mexican renais- sance of different character and emphasis and with new leaders may be in the making.  Jose G6mez-Sicre: CARIBBEAN SCULPTURE TODAY IT IS GENERALLY ADMITTED that sculpture in the present day is under a great crisis. This crisis, I would dare to state, is due to an economic and social origin rather than to a lack of inventiveness or power of creation. While the number of great painters in the world is increasing every day, the proportion of great sculptors is diminishing. America does not escape this fatal law. The progressive industrialization and the reduction in the living space of each family unit push the sculptor into being a creator for public parks and memorials-swhich do not occur too frequently. Since colonial times, however, America has had creators of caliber in the field of sculpture, with two great figures standing alone above time and circumstantial appreciation. One-the greatest-is Francisco Antonio Lisboa, the crippled mulatto of Minas Gerais in Brazil, known as "Aleijadinho," author of the most powerful statues produced in America during the eighteenth century. The other, a humble image maker in the highlands of Ecuador, is Manuel Chili, an Indian craftsman, known as "Cas- picara," who shaped agonizing saints, bleeding Christs, and tender cherubs for altars and for nativity scenes, all of which are as delicate and as expressive as the best examples of image carving from Spain. 15 Jos6 G6mez-Sicre: CARIBBEAN SCULPTURE TODAY IT IS GENERALLY ADMITTED that sculpture in the present day is under a great crisis. This crisis, I would dare to state, is due to an economic and social origin rather than to a lack of inventiveness or power of creation. While the number of great painters in the world is increasing every day, the proportion of great sculptors is diminishing. America does not escape this fatal law. The progressive industrialization and the reduction in the living space of each family unit push the sculptor into being a creator for public parks and memorials--which do not occur too frequently. Since colonial times, however, America has had creators of caliber in the field of sculpture, with two great figures standing alone above time and circumstantial appreciation. One-the greatest-is Francisco Antonio Lisboa, the crippled mulatto of Minas Gerais in Brazil, known as "Aleijadinho," author of the most powerful statues produced in America during the eighteenth century. The other, a humble image maker in the highlands of Ecuador, is Manuel Chili, an Indian craftsman, known as "Cas- picara," who shaped agonizing saints, bleeding Christs, and tender cherubs for altars and for nativity scenes, all of which are as delicate and as expressive as the best examples of image carving from Spain. 15 Jos6 G6mez-Sicre: CARIBBEAN SCULPTURE TODAY IT IS GENERALLY ADMITTED that sculpture in the present day is under a great crisis. This crisis, I would dare to state, is due to an economic and social origin rather than to a lack of inventiveness or power of creation. While the number of great painters in the world is increasing every day, the proportion of great sculptors is diminishing. America does not escape this fatal law. The progressive industrialization and the reduction in the living space of each family unit push the sculptor into being a creator for public parks and memorials-which do not occur too frequently. Since colonial times, however, America has had creators of caliber in the field of sculpture, with two great figures standing alone above time and circumstantial appreciation. One-the greatest-is Francisco Antonio Lisboa, the crippled mulatto of Minas Gerais in Brazil, known as "Aleijadinho," author of the most powerful statues produced in America during the eighteenth century. The other, a humble image maker in the highlands of Ecuador, is Manuel Chili, an Indian craftsman, known as "Cas- picara," who shaped agonizing saints, bleeding Christs, and tender cherubs for altars and for nativity scenes, all of which are as delicate and as expressive as the best examples of image carving from Spain.  16 The Caribbean In general, America has sent abroad sculptors who have come back repeating European academic formulas. The native accent has emerged from some of these, but not until recently have there been serious attempts to analyze and follow more closely the in- digenous legacy of expression and craftsmanship of the native cultures. I will use for this brief panorama a few names, from a few countries in the Caribbean, of artists who I consider are making new developments and proposing new solutions in the sculptures of America. Some of them are very young and known only in narrow circles of dilettantes. Some have already attained a little notoriety. In the particular case of Mexico, for example, I find no possibility of a parallel between the great muralists and con- temporary sculptors, in spite of having three prominent sculptors who have worked steadily in a dignified way. These are: Ignacio Asnnsolo, creator of important monuments in his country; Carlos Bracho; who has achieved maturity in portraiture; and Luis Ortiz Monasterio, who, after following for years the classical and mas- sive sense of forms, has recently started work on polychrome ceramic in a way akin to the early pottery makers of Mexico. In Mexico, the Costa Rican, Francisco Zsiiiga, has also established a reputation. In Nicaragua, Genaro Amador Lira has worked in a stylized expression-depicting undulating animals-closely related to that of the Spaniard, Mateo Hernsndez; and, in Venezuela, Francisco Narvaez has attempted monumental forms with success. II Guatemala had, by the end of the First World War, a notable personality in sculpture with Yela Gunther, follower of German expressionism of highly dramatized effects. After him came Rodolfo Galeotti Torres, who studied his craft step by step in 16 The Caribbean 16 The Caribbean In general, America has sent abroad sculptors who have come back repeating European academic formulas. The native accent has emerged from some of these, but not until recently have there been serious attempts to analyze and follow more closely the in- digenous legacy of expression and craftsmanship of the native cultures. I will use for this brief panorama a few names, from a few countries in the Caribbean, of artists who I consider are making new developments and proposing new solutions in the sculptures of America. Some of them are very young and known only in narrow circles of dilettantes. Some have already attained a little notoriety. In the particular case of Mexico, for example, I find no possibility of a parallel between the great muralists and con- temporary sculptors, in spite of having three prominent sculptors who have worked steadily in a dignified way. These are: Ignacio Asnnsolo, creator of important monuments in his country; Carlos Bracho, who has achieved maturity in portraiture; and Luis Ortiz Monasterio, who, after following for years the classical and mas- sive sense of forms, has recently started work on polychrome ceramic in a way akin to the early pottery makers of Mexico. In Mexico, the Costa Rican, Francisco Zdiiga, has also established a reputation. In Nicaragua, Genaro Amador Lira has worked in a stylized expression-depicting undulating animals-closely related to that of the Spaniard, Mateo Herndndez; and, in Venezuela, Francisco Narviez has attempted monumental forms with success. II Guatemala had, by the end of the First World War, a notable personality in sculpture with Yela Gunther, follower of German expressionism of highly dramatized effects. After him came Rodolfo Galeotti Torres, who studied his craft step by step in In general, America has sent abroad sculptors who have come back repeating European academic formulas. The native accent has emerged from some of these, but not until recently have there been serious attempts to analyze and follow more closely the in- digenous legacy of expression and craftsmanship of the native cultures. I will use for this brief panorama a few names, from a few countries in the Caribbean, of artists who I consider are making new developments and proposing new solutions in the sculptures of America. Some of them are very young and known only in narrow circles of dilettantes. Some have already attained a little notoriety. In the particular case of Mexico, for example, I find no possibility of a parallel between the great muralists and con- temporary sculptors, in spite of having three prominent sculptors who have worked steadily in a dignified way. These are: Ignacio Asansolo, creator of important monuments in his country; Carlos Bracho, who has achieved maturity in portraiture; and Luis Ortiz Monasterio, who, after following for years the classical and mas- sive sense of forms, has recently started work on polychrome ceramic in a way akin to the early pottery makers of Mexico. In Mexico, the Costa Rican, Francisco Zfiiga, has also established a reputation. In Nicaragua, Genaro Amador Lira has worked in a stylized expression-depicting undulating animals-closely related to that of the Spaniard, Mateo Hernandez; and, in Venezuela, Francisco Narvaez has attempted monumental forms with success. II Guatemala had, by the end of the First World War, a notable personality in sculpture with Yela Gunther, follower of German expressionism of highly dramatized effects. After him came Rodolfo Galeotti Torres, who studied his craft step by step in  THE ARTS 17 THE ARTS 17 THE ARTS 17 Carrara, Italy, where he mastered neoclassical apprenticeship. Returning to Guatemala in 1940, he was given a commission for several monuments and, after 1945, the direction of the School of Fine Arts. Giving extraordinary freedom to his pupils, Galeotti soon had a harmonious group of young sculptors working to- gether; and from them, I wish to select the figure of Roberto Gonzilez Goyri. Gonzdlez Goyri, just 30, had, apart from his discipline under Galeotti, the extraordinary experience of having been a draftsman and assistant to the chief of the ceramics section in the Museum of Archaeology in the capital of his country. There the young artist had to reproduce on cards for the file record all the pieces of this extraordinary collection of Mayan art, possibly the most complete one in existence. In copying the intricacies of the early pre-Columbian artists, Goyri obtained the basis for the expression of his personality, and what is unusual in his development is his reluctance to make indigenous, descriptive, or folkloric art. Later, the artist came to the United States and stayed in New York three years, studying the new trends of contemporary sculpture and going through different stages, from the massiveness of Zor- ach to the neoclassicism of Bourdelle and the baroque intricacies of Lipchitz. Following his return to Guatemala, the artist has been tireless in investigating new forms which always have a point of departure in his memories from his long period as a draftsman in the museum. His "Head of Rocinante" has perhaps some similarity to the horse's head in the Guernica mural of Picasso-tragically forceful-but it has also a legitimate formal inheritance from the snake heads which support with fierceness the Mayan temples of Chichen Itza. III Together with the development of primitive painting which has arisen in the country during the last ten years, Haiti has, although on a smaller scale, similar manifestations in the field of sculpture, which in certain ways have been prior to those of paint- Carrara, Italy, where he mastered neoclassical apprenticeship. Returning to Guatemala in 1940, he was given a commission for several monuments and, after 1945, the direction of the School of Fine Arts. Giving extraordinary freedom to his pupils, Galeotti soon had a harmonious group of young sculptors working to- gether; and from them, I wish to select the figure of Roberto Gonzalez Goyri. Gonzalez Goyri, just 30, had, apart from his discipline under Galeotti, the extraordinary experience of having been a draftsman and assistant to the chief of the ceramics section in the Museum of Archaeology in the capital of his country. There the young artist had to reproduce on cards for the file record all the pieces of this extraordinary collection of Mayan art, possibly the most complete one in existence. In copying the intricacies of the early pre-Columbian artists, Goyri obtained the basis for the expression of his personality, and what is unusual in his development is his reluctance to make indigenous, descriptive, or folkloric art. Later, the artist came to the United States and stayed in New York three years, studying the new trends of contemporary sculpture and going through different stages, from the massiveness of Zor- ach to the neoclassicism of Bourdelle and the baroque intricacies of Lipchitz. Following his return to Guatemala, the artist has been tireless in investigating new forms which always have a point of departure in his memories from his long period as a draftsman in the museum. His "Head of Rocinante" has perhaps some similarity to the horse's head in the Guernica mural of Picasso-tragically forceful-but it has also a legitimate formal inheritance from the snake heads which support with fierceness the Mayan temples of Chichen Itzi. III Together with the development of primitive painting which has arisen in the country during the last ten years, Haiti has, although on a smaller scale, similar manifestations in the field of sculpture, which in certain ways have been prior to those of paint- Carrara, Italy, where he mastered neoclassical apprenticeship. Returning to Guatemala in 1940, he was given a commission for several monuments and, after 1945, the direction of the School of Fine Arts. Giving extraordinary freedom to his pupils, Galeotti soon had a harmonious group of young sculptors working to- gether; and from them, I wish to select the figure of Roberto Gonzalez Goyri. Gonzalez Goyri, just 30, had, apart from his discipline under Galeotti, the extraordinary experience of having been a draftsman and assistant to the chief of the ceramics section in the Museum of Archaeology in the capital of his country. There the young artist had to reproduce on cards for the file record all the pieces of this extraordinary collection of Mayan art, possibly the most complete one in existence. In copying the intricacies of the early pre-Columbian artists, Goyri obtained the basis for the expression of his personality, and what is unusual in his development is his reluctance to make indigenous, descriptive, or folkloric art. Later, the artist came to the United States and stayed in New York three years, studying the new trends of contemporary sculpture and going through different stages, from the massiveness of Zor- ach to the neoclassicism of Bourdelle and the baroque intricacies of Lipchitz. Following his return to Guatemala, the artist has been tireless in investigating new forms which always have a point of departure in his memories from his long period as a draftsman in the museum. His "Head of Rocinante" has perhaps some similarity to the horse's head in the Guernica mural of Picasso-tragically forceful-but it has also a legitimate formal inheritance from the snake heads which support with fierceness the Mayan temples of Chichen Itzd. III Together with the development of primitive painting which has arisen in the country during the last ten years, Haiti has, although on a smaller scale, similar manifestations in the field of sculpture, which in certain ways have been prior to those of paint-  18 The Caribbean ing. In the African tradition, sculpture is the main plastic ex- pression; and in Haiti the inheritance of magic and esoteric rites led artisans to the making of masks, idols, and wrought-iron fetish- es of extraordinary intensity from an artistic point of view. It was in 1947 that an American sculptor, Jason Seley, started a course on sculpture at the Centre d'Art in Port-au-Prince. Sev- eral of the painters of the Centre started practicing in this new medium. Before the Centre could afford to buy a kiln, it had to bake the ceramic pieces in a rustic oven belonging to a bricklayer in a nearby town. Mr. Seley relates that, when they made the second trip with the pieces, one young man, who was a helper in the humble factory, showed him a delightful series of replicas he had done with clay of the pieces he had helped to bake on the previous occasion. This young man, whose name is Jasmin Joseph, was encouraged by Mr. Seley and eventually came to work direct- ly in the Centre. He now has in that institution a kiln where he bakes his work-which has a very personal flavor and consists primarily of free interpretations of animals, especially dogs- conceived with the emotion of Etruscan statuary and with the tenderness of Tarascan pottery makers. One of the most fascinat- ing works by Joseph is a whole window baked in pieces in the form of hollow bricks, in which there are figures of exotic animals in three dimensions surrounded by vegetation. Without losing its flat-rectangular identity, each brick presents a total sense of the sculpture in its three dimensions, lending extraordinary mean- ing to the shape-which gives a truly fascinating aspect to it. Jasmin, a timid man of about 22, works secluded in the base- ment of the Centre and has spiritualistic implications in each one of his pieces which he considers reincarnations of the dead, and he sometimes refuses to sell, and even to show, some of his sculptures to anyone. IV At the same time as with modern painting, the movement of sculpture in Cuba started in 1927 through the effort of the 18 The Caribbean 18 The Caribbean ing. In the African tradition, sculpture is the main plastic ex- pression; and in Haiti the inheritance of magic and esoteric rites led artisans to the making of masks, idols, and wrought-iron fetish- es of extraordinary intensity from an artistic point of view. It was in 1947 that an American sculptor, Jason Seley, started a course on sculpture at the Centre d'Art in Port-au-Prince. Sev- eral of the painters of the Centre started practicing in this new medium. Before the Centre could afford to buy a kiln, it had to bake the ceramic pieces in a rustic oven belonging to a bricklayer in a nearby town. Mr. Seley relates that, when they made the second trip with the pieces, one young man, who was a helper in the humble factory, showed him a delightful series of replicas he had done with clay of the pieces he had helped to bake on the previous occasion. This young man, whose name is Jasmin Joseph, was encouraged by Mr. Seley and eventually came to work direct- ly in the Centre. He now has in that institution a kiln where he bakes his work-which has a very personal flavor and consists primarily of free interpretations of animals, especially dogs- conceived with the emotion of Etruscan statuary and with the tenderness of Tarascan pottery makers. One of the most fascinat- ing works by Joseph is a whole window baked in pieces in the form of hollow bricks, in which there are figures of exotic animals in three dimensions surrounded by vegetation. Without losing its lat-rectangular identity, each brick presents a total sense of the sculpture in its three dimensions, lending extraordinary mean- ing to the shape-which gives a truly fascinating aspect to it. Jasmin, a timid man of about 22, works secluded in the base- ment of the Centre and has spiritualistic implications in each one of his pieces which he considers reincarnations of the dead, and he sometimes refuses to sell, and even to show, some of his sculptures to anyone. IV At the same time as with modern painting, the movement of sculpture in Cuba started in 1927 through the effort of the ing. In the African tradition, sculpture is the main plastic ex- pression; and in Haiti the inheritance of magic and esoteric rites led artisans to the making of masks, idols, and wrought-iron fetish- es of extraordinary intensity from an artistic point of view. It was in 1947 that an American sculptor, Jason Seley, started a course on sculpture at the Centre d'Art in Port-au-Prince. Sev- eral of the painters of the Centre started practicing in this new medium. Before the Centre could afford to buy a kiln, it had to bake the ceramic pieces in a rustic oven belonging to a bricklayer in a nearby town. Mr. Seley relates that, when they made the second trip with the pieces, one young man, who was a helper in the humble factory, showed him a delightful series of replicas he had done with clay of the pieces he had helped to bake on the previous occasion. This young man, whose name is Jasmin Joseph, was encouraged by Mr. Seley and eventually came to work direct- ly in the Centre. He now has in that institution a kiln where he bakes his work-which has a very personal flavor and consists primarily of free interpretations of animals, especially dogs- conceived with the emotion of Etruscan statuary and with the tenderness of Tarascan pottery makers. One of the most fascinat- ing works by Joseph is a whole window baked in pieces in the form of hollow bricks, in which there are figures of exotic animals in three dimensions surrounded by vegetation. Without losing its flat-rectangular identity, each brick presents a total sense of the sculpture in its three dimensions, lending extraordinary mean- ing to the shape-which gives a truly fascinating aspect to it. Jasmin, a timid man of about 22, works secluded in the base- ment of the Centre and has spiritualistic implications in each one of his pieces which he considers reincarnations of the dead, and he sometimes refuses to sell, and even to show, some of his sculptures to anyone. IV At the same time as with modern painting, the movement of sculpture in Cuba started in 1927 through the effort of the  THE ARTS 19 THE ARTS 19 THE ARTS 19 sculptor, Juan Jose Sicre, who returned to the country after many years of serious study in Europe. As a professor at the National Academy of Fine Arts in Havana, Sicere helped to give a new shape to sculpture in the island and, although he followed a neoclassical simplified expression in the manner of the French master, Bourdelle, he conscientiously knew his craft and never tried to impose his own formal concept on the pupil, but gave him absolute freedom. From his classroom emerged sculptors like Julio Girona, Alfredo Lozano, Manuel Rodulfo, Eugenio Rodriguez, Roberto Estopiian, and Agustin Cirdenas. During the Second World War, the Czech sculptor, Bernard Reder, who now lives in the United States, came to the island. Reder stressed rounded, very massive figures in movement in in- tegrated compositions to be seen in the round. Through lectures and exhibits held in Havana, he exerted a definite influence on most of the younger sculptors, who were formed into the class of Sicre-an influence that still prevails in the work of some of them. One of the sculptors who passed from the influence of Sicre to that of Reder and who has evolved into a more personal ex- pression is Estopifian, who has experimented with different ma- terials, using an intelligent approach toward a language of tropical flavor, giving open spaces to the form, which increase in intricacies of exuberant vegetation. Another young artist who has followed more or less the same path of Estopiin is Cdrdenas, who works in a more simplified pattern of elongated shapes with genuine grace. V One isolated case in the quite conservative panorama of the sculpture of Colombia is young Edgar Negret, born in Popayan and graduated from the art school of the city of Cali. From the beginning he followed different influences of modern sculpture, which ranged from Henry Moore to Jan Arp. Negret, with a keen eye for free forms, has attained an authentic personality which sculptor, Juan Jose Sicre, who returned to the country after many years of serious study in Europe. As a professor at the National Academy of Fine Arts in Havana, Sicre helped to give a new shape to sculpture in the island and, although he followed a neoclassical simplified expression in the manner of the French master, Bourdelle, he conscientiously knew his craft and never tried to impose his own formal concept on the pupil, but gave him absolute freedom. From his classroom emerged sculptors like Julio Girona, Alfredo Lozano, Manuel Rodulfo, Eugenio Rodriguez, Roberto Estopifian, and Agustin Cardenas. During the Second World War, the Czech sculptor, Bernard Reder, who now lives in the United States, came to the island. Reder stressed rounded, very massive figures in movement in in- tegrated compositions to be seen in the round. Through lectures and exhibits held in Havana, he exerted a definite influence on most of the younger sculptors, who were formed into the class of Sicre-an influence that still prevails in the work of some of them. One of the sculptors who passed from the influence of Siere to that of Reder and who has evolved into a more personal ex- pression is Estopifian, who has experimented with different ma- terials, using an intelligent approach toward a language of tropical flavor, giving open spaces to the form, which increase in intricacies of exuberant vegetation. Another young artist who has followed more or less the same path of Estopifian is Cardenas, who works in a more simplified pattern of elongated shapes with genuine grace. V One isolated case in the quite conservative panorama of the sculpture of Colombia is young Edgar Negret, born in Popaydn and graduated from the art school of the city of Cali. From the beginning he followed different influences of modern sculpture, which ranged from Henry Moore to Jan Arp. Negret, with a keen eye for free forms, has attained an authentic personality which sculptor, Juan Jose Sicre, who returned to the country after many years of serious study in Europe. As a professor at the National Academy of Fine Arts in Havana, Sicre helped to give a new shape to sculpture in the island and, although he followed a neoclassical simplified expression in the manner of the French master, Bourdelle, he conscientiously knew his craft and never tried to impose his own formal concept on the pupil, but gave him absolute freedom. From his classroom emerged sculptors like Julio Girona, Alfredo Lozano, Manuel Rodulfo, Eugenio Rodriguez, Roberto Estopifian, and Agustin CArdenas. During the Second World War, the Czech sculptor, Bernard Reder, who now lives in the United States, came to the island. Reder stressed rounded, very massive figures in movement in in- tegrated compositions to be seen in the round. Through lectures and exhibits held in Havana, he exerted a definite influence on most of the younger sculptors, who were formed into the class of Sicre-an influence that still prevails in the work of some of them. One of the sculptors who passed from the influence of Sicre to that of Reder and who has evolved into a more personal ex- pression is Estopifian, who has experimented with different ma- terials, using an intelligent approach toward a language of tropical flavor, giving open spaces to the form, which increase in intricacies of exuberant vegetation. Another young artist who has followed more or less the same path of Estopifian is Cardenas, who works in a more simplified pattern of elongated shapes with genuine grace. V One isolated case in the quite conservative panorama of the sculpture of Colombia is young Edgar Negret, born in Popayan and graduated from the art school of the city of Cali. From the beginning he followed different influences of modern sculpture, which ranged from Henry Moore to Jan Arp. Negret, with a keen eye for free forms, has attained an authentic personality which  20 The Caribbean has been confirmed by critics of New York, Paris, and Spain, where the artist has exhibited in recent years. Devoting most of his effort to wrought iron, Negret gives wider expansion to the inner and outer space of the sculptures. His inventiveness in balancing shapes and the wit and humor of some of his forms- especially of his latest production in the island of Mallorca, Spain, where he is living at present-raise him to the position of one of the most significant young creators of sculpture in America to- day. 20 The Caribbean 20 The Caribbean has been confirmed by critics of New York, Paris, and Spain, where the artist has exhibited in recent years. Devoting most of his effort to wrought iron, Negret gives wider expansion to the inner and outer space of the sculptures. His inventiveness in balancing shapes and the wit and humor of some of his forms- especially of his latest production in the island of Mallorca, Spain, where he is living at present-raise him to the position of one of the most significant young creators of sculpture in America to- day. has been confirmed by critics of New York, Paris, and Spain, where the artist has exhibited in recent years. Devoting most of his effort to wrought iron, Negret gives wider expansion to the inner and outer space of the sculptures. His inventiveness in balancing shapes and the wit and humor of some of his forms- especially of his latest production in the island of Mallorca, Spain, where he is living at present-raise him to the position of one of the most significant young creators of sculpture in America to- day.  3 Luis Vera: MAN AND LANDSCAPE IN CARIBBEAN ARCHITECTURE F ALL GOOD ARCHITECTURE seeks a balance between physi- cal environment and human activity-which is its function- this analysis is reduced essentially to considering the interaction between the natural environment of a country and its degree of culture. In studying the architecture of the Caribbean, as well as that of any other region, it is necessary to take into account the magnitude of the area where it exists. Before proceeding with this study, it is necessary to make two explanations. First, the term "environment" is not only referred to as the "natural stage," but also as the "social stage," which affects man's efforts to solve his spatial problem; in this way, architecture as an authentic phenomenon cannot exist unless it responds to the requirements of its natural stage and, at the same time, evidences in the total environment man's technique, his social orientations, and reasons for his behavior. Secondly, for the purpose of this analysis, we should consider the architecture of all countries in the Caribbean area, even if the landscape is not the same and even though the cultural tradition of Venezuela, Colombia, and Mexico has nothing in common with that of the West Indian and Central American countries. 21 Luis Vera: MAN AND LANDSCAPE IN CARIBBEAN ARCHITECTURE IF ALL GOOD ARCHITECTURE seeks a balance between physi- cal environment and human activity-which is its function- this analysis is reduced essentially to considering the interaction between the natural environment of a country and its degree of culture. In studying the architecture of the Caribbean, as well as that of any other region, it is necessary to take into account the magnitude of the area where it exists. Before proceeding with this study, it is necessary to make two explanations. First, the term "environment" is not only referred to as the "natural stage," but also as the "social stage," which affects man's efforts to solve his spatial problem; in this way, architecture as an authentic phenomenon cannot exist unless it responds to the requirements of its natural stage and, at the same time, evidences in the total environment man's technique, his social orientations, and reasons for his behavior. Secondly, for the purpose of this analysis, we should consider the architecture of all countries in the Caribbean area, even if the landscape is not the same and even though the cultural tradition of Venezuela, Colombia, and Mexico has nothing in common with that of the West Indian and Central American countries. 21 Luis Vera: MAN AND LANDSCAPE IN CARIBBEAN ARCHITECTURE IF ALL GOOD ARCHITECTURE seeks a balance between physi- cal environment and human activity--which is its function- this analysis is reduced essentially to considering the interaction between the natural environment of a country and its degree of culture. In studying the architecture of the Caribbean, as well as that of any other region, it is necessary to take into account the magnitude of the area where it exists. Before proceeding with this study, it is necessary to make two explanations. First, the term "environment" is not only referred to as the "natural stage," but also as the "social stage," which affects man's efforts to solve his spatial problem; in this way, architecture as an authentic phenomenon cannot exist unless it responds to the requirements of its natural stage and, at the same time, evidences in the total environment man's technique, his social orientations, and reasons for his behavior. Secondly, for the purpose of this analysis, we should consider the architecture of all countries in the Caribbean area, even if the landscape is not the same and even though the cultural tradition of Venezuela, Colombia, and Mexico has nothing in common with that of the West Indian and Central American countries.  22 The Caribbean 22 The Caribbean 22 The Caribbean Caribbean man is attached to his land in such a way that any transplantation would be equivalent to the mutilation of a vivid and deep reality, more serious and intense than can be appre- ciated superficially. The history of the damp forest, the great plantations, the uninhabited and arid lands, and the restless sea is his own history. The landscape possesses the character and necessary material to create the aTsthetic values of vernacular architecture. The landscape acquires not only the characteristics caused by the phenomena of nature-winds, rain, sun, vegeta- tion-but also the physiognomy sculptured by the strong will power of man who inhabits it. Within that landscape man has traced his own frontier, in which he expresses his innermost feelings. His vocabulary is still new, but he has already poured this intimacy into folklore and crafts and begins to do so in architecture. It is more important for him to create the art than to consume it, to understand the forms before explaining them- processes in which his dynamic atavism of intricate, indigenous African and European origin interferes. When cultures as varied as those of the Caribbean countries (with relatively simple technologies and limited economic re- sources) are considered, the environmental pressure is so pene- trating that artistic results seem to be imposed. But man's role is more limited than determining, and, for the time being, Carib- bean music and dance respond much more to the habitat than do architecture or decorative art. Total environment gives man the gross material of experience, even where there is an enormous margin of variation as among Yucatin, the Antilles, and Darien. To a certain degree, architecture is an interpretation of physical environment, or landscape. This premise leads us to the conclu- sion that architecture is an art primarily realistic rather than con- ventionalistic, mostly made by technical ability that translates a supported temporal accent into a spatial one. The use of con- struction materials involves space, and they produce tridimension- al forms that are closely related with the culture of the country Caribbean man is attached to his land in such a way that any transplantation would be equivalent to the mutilation of a vivid and deep reality, more serious and intense than can be appre- ciated superficially. The history of the damp forest, the great plantations, the uninhabited and arid lands, and the restless sea is his own history. The landscape possesses the character and necessary material to create the osthetic values of vernacular architecture. The landscape acquires not only the characteristics caused by the phenomena of nature-winds, rain, sun, vegeta- tion-but also the physiognomy sculptured by the strong will power of man who inhabits it. Within that landscape man has traced his own frontier, in which he expresses his innermost feelings. His vocabulary is still new, but he has already poured this intimacy into folklore and crafts and begins to do so in architecture. It is more important for him to create the art than to consume it, to understand the forms before explaining them- processes in which his dynamic atavism of intricate, indigenous African and European origin interferes. When cultures as varied as those of the Caribbean countries (with relatively simple technologies and limited economic re- sources) are considered, the environmental pressure is so pene- trating that artistic results seem to be imposed. But man's role is more limited than determining, and, for the time being, Carib- bean music and dance respond much more to the habitat than do architecture or decorative art. Total environment gives man the gross material of experience, even where there is an enormous margin of variation as among Yucatan, the Antilles, and Daridn. To a certain degree, architecture is an interpretation of physical environment, or landscape. This premise leads us to the conclu- sion that architecture is an art primarily realistic rather than con- ventionalistic, mostly made by technical ability that translates a supported temporal accent into a spatial one. The use of con- struction materials involves space, and they produce tridimension- al forms that are closely related with the culture of the country Caribbean man is attached to his land in such a way that any transplantation would be equivalent to the mutilation of a vivid and deep reality, more serious and intense than can be appre- ciated superficially. The history of the damp forest, the great plantations, the uninhabited and arid lands, and the restless sea is his own history. The landscape possesses the character and necessary material to create the esthetic values of vernacular architecture. The landscape acquires not only the characteristics caused by the phenomena of nature-winds, rain, sun, vegeta- tion-but also the physiognomy sculptured by the strong will power of man who inhabits it. Within that landscape man has traced his own frontier, in which he expresses his innermost feelings. His vocabulary is still new, but he has already poured this intimacy into folklore and crafts and begins to do so in architecture. It is more important for him to create the art than to consume it, to understand the forms before explaining them- processes in which his dynamic atavism of intricate, indigenous African and European origin interferes. When cultures as varied as those of the Caribbean countries (with relatively simple technologies and limited economic re- sources) are considered, the environmental pressure is so pene- trating that artistic results seem to be imposed. But man's role is more limited than determining, and, for the time being, Carib- bean music and dance respond much more to the habitat than do architecture or decorative art. Total environment gives man the gross material of experience, even where there is an enormous margin of variation as among Yucatin, the Antilles, and Darien. To a certain degree, architecture is an interpretation of physical environment, or landscape. This premise leads us to the conclu- sion that architecture is an art primarily realistic rather than con- ventionalistic, mostly made by technical ability that translates a supported temporal accent into a spatial one. The use of con- struction materials involves space, and they produce tridimension- al forms that are closely related with the culture of the country  THE ARTS 23 THE ARTS 23 THE ARTS 23 that produces them. Form, function, structure, and design are elements equally necessary in the execution of any architectural work. Architecture is more than a physical phenomenon: it is an osthetic product of culture and, as such, is a part of the envi- ronment created by man. It embraces all elements in the cultural maturity of a country: endowment acquired by a conscious learn- ing or by a conditioning process, techniques of several kinds, exploitation of materials from the land, adaptation to climatic requirements, and use of environmental resources offered by na- ture. These give shape and the sense of form which are the "will of art" placed by the creator in his own masterpiece of nature. In order to understand certain Caribbean architectural forms, it is necessary to consider a series of paradoxes: contemporary architecture is a universal phenomenon, but each one of its local or regional manifestations is unique; architecture is an eminently static art, although its process is dynamic and shows continuous changes. Every country has some means of architectonic expres- sion. No two countries in the Caribbean have the same formal expression of space. Architectural forms in each country are the result of the particular experiences of people-past and present. In other words, each group of national traditions is the vivid in- carnation of the past. Equally paradoxical is the fact that if architectural shapes are analyzed over a period of time the tend- ency to modify them is essentially dynamic, and the only static architecture is that not held by tradition because it was not au- thentic. If architectural change is ubiquitous, it must be remem- bered that it is given in terms of environment and not in absolute terms in itself or by itself. The cultural and social history of Caribbean man is deeply influenced by the landscape which is the essential element of his cosmic vision-in the horizontal external landscape as well as in the vertical landscape of myths. Environment acts deeply; its answers in forms are so structural and its historical line so soft, that it can be traced from the spontaneous earlier architecture that produces them. Form, function, structure, and design are elements equally necessary in the execution of any architectural work. Architecture is more than a physical phenomenon: it is an osthetic product of culture and, as such, is a part of the envi- ronment created by man. It embraces all elements in the cultural maturity of a country: endowment acquired by a conscious learn- ing or by a conditioning process, techniques of several kinds, exploitation of materials from the land, adaptation to climatic requirements, and use of environmental resources offered by na- ture. These give shape and the sense of form which are the "will of art" placed by the creator in his own masterpiece of nature. In order to understand certain Caribbean architectural forms, it is necessary to consider a series of paradoxes: contemporary architecture is a universal phenomenon, but each one of its local or regional manifestations is unique; architecture is an eminently static art, although its process is dynamic and shows continuous changes. Every country has some means of architectonic expres- sion. No two countries in the Caribbean have the same formal expression of space. Architectural forms in each country are the result of the particular experiences of people-past and present. In other words, each group of national traditions is the vivid in- carnation of the past. Equally paradoxical is the fact that if architectural shapes are analyzed over a period of time the tend- ency to modify them is essentially dynamic, and the only static architecture is that not held by tradition because it was not au- thentic. If architectural change is ubiquitous, it must be remem- bered that it is given in terms of environment and not in absolute terms in itself or by itself. The cultural and social history of Caribbean man is deeply influenced by the landscape which is the essential element of his cosmic vision-in the horizontal external landscape as well as in the vertical landscape of myths. Environment acts deeply; its answers in forms are so structural and its historical line so soft, that it can be traced from the spontaneous earlier architecture that produces them. Form, function, structure, and design are elements equally necessary in the execution of any architectural work. Architecture is more than a physical phenomenon: it is an msthetic product of culture and, as such, is a part of the envi- ronment created by man. It embraces all elements in the cultural maturity of a country: endowment acquired by a conscious learn- ing or by a conditioning process, techniques of several kinds, exploitation of materials from the land, adaptation to climatic requirements, and use of environmental resources offered by na- ture. These give shape and the sense of form which are the "will of art" placed by the creator in his own masterpiece of nature. In order to understand certain Caribbean architectural forms, it is necessary to consider a series of paradoxes: contemporary architecture is a universal phenomenon, but each one of its local or regional manifestations is unique; architecture is an eminently static art, although its process is dynamic and shows continuous changes. Every country has some means of architectonic expres- sion. No two countries in the Caribbean have the same formal expression of space. Architectural forms in each country are the result of the particular experiences of people-past and present. In other words, each group of national traditions is the vivid in- carnation of the past. Equally paradoxical is the fact that if architectural shapes are analyzed over a period of time the tend- ency to modify them is essentially dynamic, and the only static architecture is that not held by tradition because it was not au- thentic. If architectural change is ubiquitous, it must be remem- bered that it is given in terms of environment and not in absolute terms in itself or by itself. The cultural and social history of Caribbean man is deeply influenced by the landscape which is the essential element of his cosmic vision-in the horizontal external landscape as well as in the vertical landscape of myths. Environment acts deeply; its answers in forms are so structural and its historical line so soft, that it can be traced from the spontaneous earlier architecture  24 The Caribbean to that of our own day. It is difficult to consider architecture as something binding which leads man, whether he desires it or not, to a destiny he cannot plan or foresee. II When we carefully analyze every architectuaral expression, we meet a series of standard reactions characterizing a certain group or school. That is, we meet architects who react, think, and reason in a different form, even when confronted with a relatively identical environment. For many years and in almost every country, the problem of pursuing various architectural trends has been tried. It is inter- esting and of transcendental importance to follow the adventures of Caribbean architecture through the influence of the landscape. Whether analyzing its objective manifestations or examining the wide avenues of hypothesis, whatever classification or terminology we apply to the Caribbean pre-Hispanic cultures, it is evident that man considered the landscape and its influence on architecture. In colonial times the Indo-Spanish baroque was transcendent. The external landscape, the religion, and the myths affected deep- ly the architectural forms. It was the first fusion of land culture with the autochthonous, but from it a false technological position was derived, which, until recently, failed to allow Caribbean architecture to assimilate the landscape and join it. Nevertheless, mestizo architecture left everysvhere the most beautiful examples of marvelous exuberance and imaginative richness. The nineteenth century contributed to the reaction of academic classicism, including all copies, good or bad, of any traditional style. Classicism lacks freshness, for it had a heavy burden of doubtful osthetics, foreign and trite, that could not be supported by Caribbean man. 111 Although ignoring the landscape, pure functionalism as a simple formal expression of the useful and the necessary is a 24 The Caribbean to that of our own day. It is difficult to consider architecture as something binding which leads man, whether he desires it or not, to a destiny he cannot plan or foresee. II When we carefully analyze every architectural expression, we meet a series of standard reactions characterizing a certain group or school. That is, we meet architects who react, think, and reason in a different form, even when confronted with a relatively identical environment. For many years and in almost every country, the problem of pursuing various architectural trends has been tried. It is inter- esting and of transcendental importance to follosv the adventures of Caribbean architecture through the influence of the landscape. Whether analyzing its objective manifestations or examining the wide avenues of hypothesis, whatever classification or terminology we apply to the Caribbean pre-Hispanic cultures, it is evident that man considered the landscape and its influence on architecture. In colonial times the Indo-Spanish baroque was transcendent. The external landscape, the religion, and the myths affected deep- ly the architectural forms. It was the first fusion of land culture with the autochthonous, but from it a false technological position was derived, which, until recently, failed to allow Caribbean architecture to assimilate the landscape and join it. Nevertheless, mestizo architecture left everywhere the most beautiful examples of marvelous exuberance and imaginative richness. The nineteenth century contributed to the reaction of academic classicism, including all copies, good or bad, of any traditional style. Classicism lacks freshness, for it had a heavy burden of doubtful osthetics, foreign and trite, that could not be supported by Caribbean man. III Although ignoring the landscape, pure functionalism as a simple formal expression of the useful and the necessary is a 24 The Caribbean to that of our own day. It is difficult to consider architecture as something binding which leads man, whether he desires it or not, to a destiny he cannot plan or foresee. II When we carefully analyze every architectural expression, we meet a series of standard reactions characterizing a certain group or school. That is, we meet architects who react, think, and reason in a different form, even when confronted with a relatively identical environment. For many years and in almost every country, the problem of pursuing various architectural trends has been tried. It is inter- esting and of transcendental importance to follow the adventures of Caribbean architecture through the influence of the landscape. Whether analyzing its objective manifestations or examining the ivide avenues of hypothesis, whatever classification or terminology we apply to the Caribbean pre-Hispanic cultures, it is evident that man considered the landscape and its influence on architecture. In colonial times the Indo-Spanish baroque was transcendent. The external landscape, the religion, and the myths affected deep- ly the architectural forms. It was the first fusion of land culture with the autochthonous, but from it a false technological position was derived, which, until recently, failed to allow Caribbean architecture to assimilate the landscape and join it. Nevertheless, mestizo architecture left everywhere the most beautiful examples of marvelous exuberance and imaginative richness. The nineteenth century contributed to the reaction of academic classicism, including all copies, good or bad, of any traditional style. Classicism lacks freshness, for it had a heavy burden of doubtful xsthetics, foreign and trite, that could not be supported by Caribbean man. III Although ignoring the landscape, pure functionalism as a simple formal expression of the useful and the necessary is a  THE ARTS 25 THE ARTS 25 THE ARTS 25 recent development in the Caribbean. Its mechanistic rationaliza- tion can be explained by reason of its psychological origin; that is, it is a romantic attitude in countries where technique is behind the times, and it is a puerile reaction of adoration to technique in other countries. The resistance which these new ideas en- countered provoked, in the young architects of the time, a blind belief in the possibility of producing, through functionalism, a new architecture of the proper osthetic content to show a way of life. In order to produce architecture, it is not necessary to apply the anachronistic. The new movement in fact broke the traditional architectural dictatorship by establishing school cours- es which looked to archeological models of Mediterranean cultures, thus emphasizing the importance of construction materials and the real function of the architect's work. The task was simply to break immediately with the unreason- able past and to proceed directly into a technological and practical era of the present. But the ending of this functionalistic tendency in the Caribbean was different from other Latin American areas. It cannot be doubted that the dispensing with worn-out molds of academic formalism was useful. It cannot be denied either that it was a sincere and brave gesture on the part of those who pulled down an almost immeasurable dictatorship of tradition. A positive contribution was to awake uncertainties and to try new techniques. Many of the latter were produced by the Bauhaus group, Le Corbusier, Frank Lloyd Wright, and others. New patterns inevitably came to replace the old ones. No plastic and intimate relationship existed between man and his Caribbean landscape and the cold interpretation of the classic decadent orders. There was no improvement in relationship either through the use of plain walls or large windows through which the tropical sun got in, or of innumerable columns, or of violent colors, or of irritant murals. Perhaps the time has now arrived for the Caribbean to offer its architecture to promote a more social and human mission. But what techniques and shapes are adequate? To the real artist, there is a need to use rare recent development in the Caribbean. Its mechanistic rationaliza- tion can be explained by reason of its psychological origin; that is, it is a romantic attitude in countries where technique is behind the times, and it is a puerile reaction of adoration to technique in other countries. The resistance which these new ideas en- countered provoked, in the young architects of the time, a blind belief in the possibility of producing, through functionalism, a new architecture of the proper osthetic content to show a way of life. In order to produce architecture, it is not necessary to apply the anachronistic. The new movement in fact broke the traditional architectural dictatorship by establishing school cours- es which looked to archeological models of Mediterranean cultures, thus emphasizing the importance of construction materials and the real function of the architect's work. The task was simply to break immediately with the unreason- able past and to proceed directly into a technological and practical era of the present. But the ending of this functionalistic tendency in the Caribbean was different from other Latin American areas. It cannot be doubted that the dispensing with worn-out molds of academic formalism was useful. It cannot be denied either that it was a sincere and brave gesture on the part of those who pulled down an almost immeasurable dictatorship of tradition. A positive contribution was to awake uncertainties and to try new techniques. Many of the latter were produced by the Bauhaus group, Le Corbusier, Frank Lloyd Wright, and others. New patterns inevitably came to replace the old ones. No plastic and intimate relationship existed between man and his Caribbean landscape and the cold interpretation of the classic decadent orders. There was no improvement in relationship either through the use of plain walls or large windows through which the tropical sun got in, or of innumerable columns, or of violent colors, or of irritant murals. Perhaps the time has now arrived for the Caribbean to offer its architecture to promote a more social and human mission. But what techniques and shapes are adequate? To the real artist, there is a need to use rare recent development in the Caribbean. Its mechanistic rationaliza- tion can be explained by reason of its psychological origin; that is, it is a romantic attitude in countries where technique is behind the times, and it is a puerile reaction of adoration to technique in other countries. The resistance which these new ideas en- countered provoked, in the young architects of the time, a blind belief in the possibility of producing, through functionalism, a new architecture of the proper osthetic content to show a way of life. In order to produce architecture, it is not necessary to apply the anachronistic. The new movement in fact broke the traditional architectural dictatorship by establishing school cours- es which looked to archeological models of Mediterranean cultures, thus emphasizing the importance of construction materials and the real function of the architect's work. The task was simply to break immediately with the unreason- able past and to proceed directly into a technological and practical era of the present. But the ending of this functionalistic tendency in the Caribbean was different from other Latin American areas. It cannot be doubted that the dispensing with worn-out molds of academic formalism was useful. It cannot be denied either that it was a sincere and brave gesture on the part of those who pulled down an almost immeasurable dictatorship of tradition. A positive contribution was to awake uncertainties and to try new techniques. Many of the latter svere produced by the Bauhaus group, Le Corbusier, Frank Lloyd Wright, and others. New patterns inevitably came to replace the old ones. No plastic and intimate relationship existed between man and his Caribbean landscape and the cold interpretation of the classic decadent orders. There was no improvement in relationship either through the use of plain walls or large windows through which the tropical sun got in, or of innumerable columns, or of violent colors, or of irritant murals. Perhaps the time has now arrived for the Caribbean to offer its architecture to promote a more social and human mission. But what techniques and shapes are adequate? To the real artist, there is a need to use rare  26 The Caribbean 26 The Caribbean materials to express eagerness and aspirations. In this manner architecture can acquire quality, character, and style. The en- vironment, a natural and social stage in harmony with the land- scape and social groups by which it can be used, will produce architectural types of individual style and strong character. IV Perhaps the most important example, because of its proportion and dimension and its adaptation to the physical and social en- vironment, is the group of buildings (some still under construc- tion) forming Panama's University City. The architects, young professors at the university between 1949 and 1952, had a special opportunity to plan a group of buildings within fixed limitations of cost and space. The topography offered problems not easy to solve. Nevertheless, the decision to construct the library and administration building in the best position at the top of a hill was adopted, with the other buildings located on lower land. All buildings were connected by concrete corridors, adapted to the topography of the campus. With all the experimental character that may be attributed to it, Panama's University City represents the best attempt at adaptation of the sound principles of contem- porary architecture to environment and the best didactic demon- stration of Esthetic maturity. Continuing with university architecture, we note that Mexico's University City is the biggest experiment in point of size of such contemporary architecture in Latin America. All buildings are located in an immense lava field in the vicinity of Mexico City, where the landscape constitutes a rare product of nature: an unlimited desert-type gray mass with a faraway background of mountains. The whole has been well arranged, with some out- standing buildings, such as the jai-alai walls, the stadium, and the library, which harmonize in every way with the regional, social, and natural environment. Other construction, however, reveals immaturity and an absolute misunderstanding of the environment: some buildings are too big while others are architectually poor materials to express eagerness and aspirations. In this manner architecture can acquire quality, character, and style. The en- vironment, a natural and social stage in harmony with the land- scape and social groups by which it can be used, will produce architectural types of individual style and strong character. IV Perhaps the most important example, because of its proportion and dimension and its adaptation to the physical and social en- vironment, is the group of buildings (some still under construc- tion) forming Panama's University City. The architects, young professors at the university between 1949 and 1952, had a special opportunity to plan a group of buildings within fixed limitations of cost and space. The topography offered problems not easy to solve. Nevertheless, the decision to construct the library and administration building in the best position at the top of a hill was adopted, with the other buildings located on lower land. All buildings were connected by concrete corridors, adapted to the topography of the campus. With all the experimental character that may be attributed to it, Panama's University City represents the best attempt at adaptation of the sound principles of contem- porary architecture to environment and the best didactic demon- stration of osthetic maturity. Continuing with university architecture, we note that Mexico's University City is the biggest experiment in point of size of such contemporary architecture in Latin America. All buildings are located in an immense lava field in the vicinity of Mexico City, where the landscape constitutes a rare product of nature: an unlimited desert-type gray mass with a faraway background of mountains. The whole has been well arranged, with some out- standing buildings, such as the jai-alai walls, the stadium, and the library, which harmonize in every way with the regional, social, and natural environment. Other construction, however, reveals immaturity and an absolute misunderstanding of the environment: some buildings are too big while others are architectually poor 26 The Caribbean materials to express eagerness and aspirations. In this manner architecture can acquire quality, character, and style. The en- vironment, a natural and social stage in harmony with the land- scape and social groups by which it can be used, will produce architectural types of individual style and strong character. IV Perhaps the most important example, because of its proportion and dimension and its adaptation to the physical and social en- vironment, is the group of buildings (some still under construc- tion) forming Panama's University City. The architects, young professors at the university between 1949 and 1952, had a special opportunity to plan a group of buildings within fixed limitations of cost and space. The topography offered problems not easy to solve. Nevertheless, the decision to construct the library and administration building in the best position at the top of a hill was adopted, with the other buildings located on lower land. All buildings were connected by concrete corridors, adapted to the topography of the campus. With all the experimental character that may be attributed to it, Panama's University City represents the best attempt at adaptation of the sound principles of contem- porary architecture to environment and the best didactic demon- stration of osthetic maturity. Continuing with university architecture, we note that Mexico's University City is the biggest experiment in point of size of such contemporary architecture in Latin America. All buildings are located in an immense lava field in the vicinity of Mexico City, where the landscape constitutes a rare product of nature: an unlimited desert-type gray mass with a faraway background of mountains. The whole has been well arranged, with some out- standing buildings, such as the jai-alai walls, the stadium, and the library, which harmonize in every way with the regional, social, and natural environment. Other construction, however, reveals immaturity and an absolute misunderstanding of the environment: some buildings are too big while others are architectually poor  THE ARTS 27 THE ARTS 27 THE ARTS and need the large murals to save them. Generally, however, the murals of Rivera, Siqueiros, and Chaves Morado are too strident in composition, and are neither a message to the people nor an example of integration of the painting to architecture and land- scape. These murals, born of the Mexican Revolution against a feudal economic background and with an eminently social and didactic function, have betrayed their messages in order to be- come a cheap well-paid affichism. A few examples of good contemporary architecture could be pointed out in Colombia, Venezuela, and Puerto Rico, countries with strong currents of architectural production; but architects there are still very young and have not had the opportunity to demonstrate their work. V Generally speaking, today's architecture either assumes an osthetic pattern for specialists, or it is a coarse copy of European and American magazine illustrations, without being in harmony with the landscape and social environment where construction occurs, or in making a contribution to the culture. Some of the worst examples of architecture today are found in certain alien structures, especially hotels such as those in Caracas, BogotA, PanamA, and other places in the Caribbean where they con- stitute a violent antithesis to regional architecture. The negative condition of the social and natural stage is, unfortunately, imitated in such buildings by local architects without hesitation and imagi- nation. These structures are so poor in osthetic character that they nullify the prestige that might be reached by contemporary architecture, whose purpose and form aim to achieve a synthesis of Caribbean man and landscape. A desire for a pure, authentic school exists today in the hearts of many young Caribbean architects who wish sincerely to speak their own words with their own voices. Will they succeed in creating within their environment a "true architecture," an archi- tecture for all time, vivid, stable, and dynamic? There is a great deal of faith and hope that they will succeed. and need the large murals to save them. Generally, however, the murals of Rivera, Siqueiros, and Chives Morado are too strident in composition, and are neither a message to the people nor an example of integration of the painting to architecture and land- scape. These murals, born of the Mexican Revolution against a feudal economic background and with an eminently social and didactic function, have betrayed their messages in order to be- come a cheap well-paid affichism. A few examples of good contemporary architecture could be pointed out in Colombia, Venezuela, and Puerto Rico, countries with strong currents of architectural production; but architects there are still very young and have not had the opportunity to demonstrate their work. V Generally speaking, today's architecture either assumes an asthetic pattern for specialists, or it is a coarse copy of European and American magazine illustrations, without being in harmony with the landscape and social environment where construction occurs, or in making a contribution to the culture. Some of the worst examples of architecture today are found in certain alien structures, especially hotels such as those in Caracas, BogotA, PanamA, and other places in the Caribbean where they con- stitute a violent antithesis to regional architecture. The negative condition of the social and natural stage is, unfortunately, imitated in such buildings by local architects without hesitation and imagi- nation. These structures are so poor in asthetic character that they nullify the prestige that might be reached by contemporary architecture, whose purpose and form aim to achieve a synthesis of Caribbean man and landscape. A desire for a pure, authentic school exists today in the hearts of many young Caribbean architects who wish sincerely to speak their own words with their own voices. Will they succeed in creating within their environment a "true architecture," an archi- tecture for all time, vivid, stable, and dynamic? There is a great deal of faith and hope that they will succeed. and need the large murals to save them. Generally, however, the murals of Rivera, Siqueiros, and Chives Morado are too strident in composition, and are neither a message to the people nor an example of integration of the painting to architecture and land- scape. These murals, born of the Mexican Revolution against a feudal economic background and with an eminently social and didactic function, have betrayed their messages in order to be- come a cheap well-paid afpichism. A few examples of good contemporary architecture could be pointed out in Colombia, Venezuela, and Puerto Rico, countries with strong currents of architectural production; but architects there are still very young and have not had the opportunity to demonstrate their work. V Generally speaking, today's architecture either assumes an asthetic pattern for specialists, or it is a coarse copy of European and American magazine illustrations, without being in harmony with the landscape and social environment where construction occurs, or in making a contribution to the culture. Some of the worst examples of architecture today are found in certain alien structures, especially hotels such as those in Caracas, BogotA, Panam, and other places in the Caribbean where they con- stitute a violent antithesis to regional architecture. The negative condition of the social and natural stage is, unfortunately, imitated in such buildings by local architects without hesitation and imagi- nation. These structures are so poor in aosthetic character that they nullify the prestige that might be reached by contemporary architecture, whose purpose and form aim to achieve a synthesis of Caribbean man and landscape. A desire for a pure, authentic school exists today in the hearts of many young Caribbean architects who wish sincerely to speak their own words with their own voices. Will they succeed in creating within their environment a "true architecture," an archi- tecture for all time, vivid, stable, and dynamic? There is a great deal of faith and hope that they will succeed.   Part II Part II Part II MUSIC AND DRAMA MUSIC AND DRAMA MUSIC AND DRAMA   4 4 Joaquin Nin-Culmell: CONTEMPORARY CARIBBEAN COMPOSERS THIS PAPER is concerned, primarily, with contemporary Car- ibbean composers of art music. It is self-evident, however, that one cannot take a glance at contemporary music anywhere with- out peering, even if only in passing, at the music of the past. Consequently, in dealing with contemporary Caribbean compos- ers, a short resume of the past history of Caribbean music may prove helpful. In the Caribbean-an area which for our purpose comprises Mexico, the Central American republics, Colombia, Venezuela, the island republics, and the Territory of Puerto Rico -the past can be divided more or less arbitrarily into three his- torical periods: the Pre-Columbian, the Colonial, and the Post- Colonial. The first of these, the Pre-Columbian, is characterized by in- digenous instruments, which were blown, struck, scratched, or shaken by the Indians. These instruments, for the most part, have been collected, studied, and classified; but one can only surmise the musical system for which they were intended. The Pre-Columbian Indians had no musical notation, and hence the rigid authenticity of what examples of their music have survived 31 Joaquin Nin-Culmell: CONTEMPORARY CARIBBEAN COMPOSERS THIS PAPER is concerned, primarily, with contemporary Car- ibbean composers of art music. It is self-evident, however, that one cannot take a glance at contemporary music anywhere with- out peering, even if only in passing, at the music of the past. Consequently, in dealing with contemporary Caribbean compos- ers, a short resume of the past history of Caribbean music may prove helpful. In the Caribbean-an area which for our purpose comprises Mexico, the Central American republics, Colombia, Venezuela, the island republics, and the Territory of Puerto Rico -the past can be divided more or less arbitrarily into three his- torical periods: the Pre-Columbian, the Colonial, and the Post- Colonial. The first of these, the Pre-Columbian, is characterized by in- digenous instruments, which were blown, struck, scratched, or shaken by the Indians. These instruments, for the most part, have been collected, studied, and classified; but one can only surmise the musical system for which they were intended. The Pre-Columbian Indians had no musical notation, and hence the rigid authenticity of what examples of their music have survived 31 Joaquin Nin-Culmell: CONTEMPORARY CARIBBEAN COMPOSERS THIS PAPER is concerned, primarily, with contemporary Car- ibbean composers of art music. It is self-evident, however, that one cannot take a glance at contemporary music anywhere with- out peering, even if only in passing, at the music of the past. Consequently, in dealing with contemporary Caribbean compos- ers, a short resume of the past history of Caribbean music may prove helpful. In the Caribbean-an area which for our purpose comprises Mexico, the Central American republics, Colombia, Venezuela, the island republics, and the Territory of Puerto Rico -the past can be divided more or less arbitrarily into three his- torical periods: the Pre-Columbian, the Colonial, and the Post- Colonial. The first of these, the Pre-Columbian, is characterized by in- digenous instruments, which were blown, struck, scratched, or shaken by the Indians. These instruments, for the most part, have been collected, studied, and classified; but one can only surmise the musical system for which they weere intended. The Pre-Columbian Indians had no musical notation, and hence the rigid authenticity of what examples of their music have survived 31  32 The Caribbean today is highly questionable. That these examples, along with the instruments of the past, have exerted a notable influence on the development of Caribbean music is a point beyond debate. Sometimes this influence has been extremely active, as, for in- stance, in Mexico where some particularly happy misunderstand- ings with regard to the actual use of indigenous instruments and some vague speculation on the musical system of bygone days has produced a real national school. In Europe a similar situation arose in Florence in 1600, where some equally happy misunder- standings and some equally vague speculation on the musical sys- tem of bygone days produced a musical form which we call dpera. At other times the influence of Pre-Columbian music and instruments has been purely passive or dormant-as, for in- stance, in Guatemala; or, again, as in the island republics, sheer legend. And yet, active, passive, dormant, or legendary, the in- fluence of Pre-Columbian musical practice has undoubtedly helped shape the music of subsequent periods. The Colonial period extends from 1492 to the Wars of In- dependence in the early nineteenth century. In the instance of Cuba and Puerto Rico, the final break with Spain came as late as 1898. It is a period which begins with the observation of native festivals by the early settlers, but which soon sees the partial or total replacement of indigenous instruments and music by their European counterparts. It goes without saying that this partial or total replacement did not occur without the European practice taking on some aspects of local traditions. The Indians rarely if ever adopted anything from the Europeans without adapting it to their own needs and inclinations. In the same way that Colonial baroque architecture stems from and yet differs from Spanish baroque architecture, so Spanish musical practice took roots in the New World and flowered in a very special way. The period further distinguishes itself by the establishment of music instruction for the native population, the copying of musical manuscripts, the building of church organs, the printing of liturgi- cal music-the first of its kind in the New World-as well as 32 The Caribbean 32 The Caribbean today is highly questionable. That these examples, along with the instruments of the past, have exerted a notable influence on the development of Caribbean music is a point beyond debate. Sometimes this influence has been extremely active, as, for in- stance, in Mexico where some particularly happy misunderstand- ings with regard to the actual use of indigenous instruments and some vague speculation on the musical system of bygone days has produced a real national school. In Europe a similar situation arose in Florence in 1600, where some equally happy misunder- standings and some equally vague speculation on the musical sys- tem of bygone days produced a musical form which we call dpera. At other times the influence of Pre-Columbian music and instruments has been purely passive or dormant-as, for in- stance, in Guatemala; or, again, as in the island republics, sheer legend. And yet, active, passive, dormant, or legendary, the in- fluence of Pre-Columbian musical practice has undoubtedly helped shape the music of subsequent periods. The Colonial period extends from 1492 to the Wars of In- dependence in the early nineteenth century. In the instance of Cuba and Puerto Rico, the final break with Spain came as late as 1898. It is a period which begins with the observation of native festivals by the early settlers, but which soon sees the partial or total replacement of indigenous instruments and music by their European counterparts. It goes without saying that this partial or total replacement did not occur without the European practice taking on some aspects of local traditions. The Indians rarely if ever adopted anything from the Europeans without adapting it to their own needs and inclinations. In the same way that Colonial baroque architecture stems from and yet differs from Spanish baroque architecture, so Spanish musical practice took roots in the New World and flowered in a very special way. The period further distinguishes itself by the establishment of music instruction for the native population, the copying of musical manuscripts, the building of church organs, the printing of liturgi- cal music-the first of its kind in the New World-as well as today is highly questionable. That these examples, along with the instruments of the past, have exerted a notable influence on the development of Caribbean music is a point beyond debate. Sometimes this influence has been extremely active, as, for in- stance, in Mexico where some particularly happy misunderstand- ings with regard to the actual use of indigenous instruments and some vague speculation on the musical system of bygone days has produced a real national school. In Europe a similar situation arose in Florence in 1600, where some equally happy misunder- standings and some equally vague speculation on the musical sys- tem of bygone days produced a musical form which we call dpera. At other times the influence of Pre-Columbian music and instruments has been purely passive or dormant-as, for in- stance, in Guatemala; or, again, as in the island republics, sheer legend. And yet, active, passive, dormant, or legendary, the in- fluence of Pre-Columbian musical practice has undoubtedly helped shape the music of subsequent periods. The Colonial period extends from 1492 to the Wars of In- dependence in the early nineteenth century. In the instance of Cuba and Puerto Rico, the final break with Spain came as late as 1898. It is a period which begins with the observation of native festivals by the early settlers, but which soon sees the partial or total replacement of indigenous instruments and music by their European counterparts. It goes without saying that this partial or total replacement did not occur without the European practice taking on some aspects of local traditions. The Indians rarely if ever adopted anything from the Europeans without adapting it to their own needs and inclinations. In the same way that Colonial baroque architecture stems from and yet differs from Spanish baroque architecture, so Spanish musical practice took roots in the New World and flowered in a very special way. The period further distinguishes itself by the establishment of music instruction for the native population, the copying of musical manuscripts, the building of church organs, the printing of liturgi- cal music-the first of its kind in the New World-as well as  MUSIC AND DRAMA 33 by the infiltration of African elements in certain areas. Though the emphasis is on church music, secular music does not lag far behind. The third and last-the Post-Colonial period-extends rough- ly from the Wars of Independence to about 1900, and is typified, as could be expected, by a gradual awakening and development of national cultures. National anthems were composed, conserva- tories were founded, and qualified native performers and com- posers began to emerge. Europe, however, was still the center of attraction for those Caribbean composers who sought musical in- struction elsewhere than in their own countries. A good number of them achieved real success, and their efforts were reflected in the gradual rise of cultural levels in their respective countries. Indigenous music was almost ignored, and Pre-Columbian in- struments had yet to find their place in the pattern of national art music. African influences were obviously present in certain areas more than in others, but no real effort was made to accept or realize their potentialities in terms of art music. It can be said truthfully that though the Caribbean composer's heart may have been in the Caribbean, his ear was still in Europe. The Modern Era, which follows-and which is the subject of this paper-begins about 1900 and is marked by the rediscovery of America by most native composers. There is little doubt that musical nationalism in Europe had its effect on this new develop- ment, but the more direct influence of social, economic, and political factors should not be overlooked. This generation has taken an extreme position with regard to the prestige of indigen- ous music and instruments in Mexico, and with regard to the influence and significance of African elements in the music of Cuba. Whereas their predecessors listened to European music and heard little if anything of the music surrounding them, musicians of our era have attempted to shut out European music and to listen only to music which reflects Indian background or which shows signs of African tendencies. In every field, European influence has been decried, and in the arts in particular the mean- MUSIC AND DRAMA 33 by the infiltration of African elements in certain areas. Though the emphasis is on church music, secular music does not lag far behind. The third and last-the Post-Colonial period-extends rough- ly from the Wars of Independence to about 1900, and is typified, as could be expected, by a gradual awakening and development of national cultures. National anthems were composed, conserva- tories were founded, and qualified native performers and com- posers began to emerge. Europe, however, was still the center of attraction for those Caribbean composers who sought musical in- struction elsewhere than in their own countries. A good number of them achieved real success, and their efforts were reflected in the gradual rise of cultural levels in their respective countries. Indigenous music was almost ignored, and Pre-Columbian in- struments had yet to find their place in the pattern of national art music. African influences were obviously present in certain areas more than in others, but no real effort was made to accept or realize their potentialities in terms of art music. It can be said truthfully that though the Caribbean composer's heart may have been in the Caribbean, his ear was still in Europe. The Modern Era, which follows-and which is the subject of this paper-begins about 1900 and is marked by the rediscovery of America by most native composers. There is little doubt that musical nationalism in Europe had its effect on this new develop- ment, but the more direct influence of social, economic, and political factors should not be overlooked. This generation has taken an extreme position with regard to the prestige of indigen- ous music and instruments in Mexico, and with regard to the influence and significance of African elements in the music of Cuba. Whereas their predecessors listened to European music and heard little if anything of the music surrounding them, musicians of our era have attempted to shut out European music and to listen only to music which reflects Indian background or which shows signs of African tendencies. In every field, European influence has been decried, and in the arts in particular the mean- MUSIC AND DRAMA 33 by the infiltration of African elements in certain areas. Though the emphasis is on church music, secular music does not lag far behind. The third and last-the Post-Colonial period-extends rough- ly from the Wars of Independence to about 1900, and is typified, as could be expected, by a gradual awakening and development of national cultures. National anthems were composed, conserva- tories were founded, and qualified native performers and com- posers began to emerge. Europe, however, was still the center of attraction for those Caribbean composers who sought musical in- struction elsewhere than in their own countries. A good number of them achieved real success, and their efforts were reflected in the gradual rise of cultural levels in their respective countries. Indigenous music was almost ignored, and Pre-Columbian in- struments had yet to find their place in the pattern of national art music. African influences were obviously present in certain areas more than in others, but no real effort was made to accept or realize their potentialities in terms of art music. It can be said truthfully that though the Caribbean composer's heart may have been in the Caribbean, his ear was still in Europe. The Modern Era, which follows-and which is the subject of this paper-begins about 1900 and is marked by the rediscovery of America by most native composers. There is little doubt that musical nationalism in Europe had its effect on this new develop- ment, but the more direct influence of social, economic, and political factors should not be overlooked. This generation has taken an extreme position with regard to the prestige of indigen- ous music and instruments in Mexico, and with regard to the influence and significance of African elements in the music of Cuba. Whereas their predecessors listened to European music and heard little if anything of the music surrounding them, musicians of our era have attempted to shut out European music and to listen only to music which reflects Indian background or which shows signs of African tendencies. In every field, European influence has been decried, and in the arts in particular the mean-  34 The Caribbean ing and contribution of the Indian and of the Negro have been idealized. Serious folkloric studies have begun to appear and some efforts are being made to study the music and musicians of the Colonial period, particularly in Mexico, and to a lesser degree, in Guatemala, Venezuela, and Cuba. This rediscovery of Colo- nial music has led to a revaluation of European influences and, in some cases, has offered an avenue of escape for those Caribbean composers who feel fenced in by the regionalism of folklore. II In Mexico, where the Pre-Columbian influence is strong and vital, and where the Colonial and Post-Colonial periods have been extremely active, it is not too surprising to find that the con- temporary scene is one of great significance. Clearly dominated by two composers-Carlos Chavez (b. 1899) and Silvestre Revueltas (1899-1940)-Mexican music of today is indebted to the musical refinement of Manuel Ponce (1886-1948), who studied in Paris, and to the experimental theories of Julian Car- rillo (b. 1875) who studied in Leipzig. Though Revueltas died in 1940, Chavez has continued a remarkable career, which includes composing, conducting, public administration, and teaching. Both have been leaders in their own way, Chavez as the builder and Revueltas as the iconoclast. Musically, whereas Chavez tends to work from the musical form to the musical idea, Revueltas is apt to work from the idea to the form. It is perhaps for this reason that the music of Revueltas is equally colorful with or without the use of Indian instruments. Chavez, on the other hand, can be rather grim when instrumental local color is removed or is simply absent. The "lean and hungry" sound of both ChAvez and Revueltas music is closer in spirit, and sometimes even in letter, to the early folk style of Stravinski, Bartok, and Falla than to the neoromantic style of Schoenberg and his followers. In any case, what might be called the Indo- Mexican music of Chavez and Revueltas has reached the main stream of contemporary music, and, owing to certain freshness 34 The Caribbean 34 The Caribbean ing and contribution of the Indian and of the Negro have been idealized. Serious folkloric studies have begun to appear and some efforts are being made to study the music and musicians of the Colonial period, particularly in Mexico, and to a lesser degree, in Guatemala, Venezuela, and Cuba. This rediscovery of Colo- nial music has led to a revaluation of European influences and, in some cases, has offered an avenue of escape for those Caribbean composers who feel fenced in by the regionalism of folklore. II In Mexico, where the Pre-Columbian influence is strong and vital, and where the Colonial and Post-Colonial periods have been extremely active, it is not too surprising to find that the con- temporary scene is one of great significance. Clearly dominated by two composers-Carlos Chavez (b. 1899) and Silvestre Revueltas (1899-1940)---Mexican music of today is indebted to the musical refinement of Manuel Ponce (1886-1948), who studied in Paris, and to the experimental theories of Julian Car- rillo (b. 1875) who studied in Leipzig. Though Revueltas died in 1940, Chavez has continued a remarkable career, which includes composing, conducting, public administration, and teaching. Both have been leaders in their own way, ChAvez as the builder and Revueltas as the iconoclast. Musically, whereas Chavez tends to work from the musical form to the musical idea, Revueltas is apt to work from the idea to the form. It is perhaps for this reason that the music of Revueltas is equally colorful with or without the use of Indian instruments. Chavez, on the other hand, can be rather grim when instrumental local color is removed or is simply absent. The "lean and hungry" sound of both ChAvez and Revueltas music is closer in spirit, and sometimes even in letter, to the early folk style of Stravinski, Bartok, and Falla than to the neoromantic style of Schoenberg and his followers. In any case, what might be called the Indo- Mexican music of Chavez and Revueltas has reached the main stream of contemporary music, and, owing to certain freshness ing and contribution of the Indian and of the Negro have been idealized. Serious folkloric studies have begun to appear and some efforts are being made to study the music and musicians of the Colonial period, particularly in Mexico, and to a lesser degree, in Guatemala, Venezuela, and Cuba. This rediscovery of Colo- nial music has led to a revaluation of European influences and, in some cases, has offered an avenue of escape for those Caribbean composers who feel fenced in by the regionalism of folklore. II In Mexico, where the Pre-Columbian influence is strong and vital, and where the Colonial and Post-Colonial periods have been extremely active, it is not too surprising to find that the con- temporary scene is one of great significance. Clearly dominated by two composers-Carlos ChAvez (b. 1899) and Silvestre Revueltas (1899-1940)-Mexican music of today is indebted to the musical refinement of Manuel Ponce (1886-1948), who studied in Paris, and to the experimental theories of Julian Car- rillo (b. 1875) who studied in Leipzig. Though Revueltas died in 1940, ChAvez has continued a remarkable career, which includes composing, conducting, public administration, and teaching. Both have been leaders in their own way, ChAvez as the builder and Revueltas as the iconoclast. Musically, whereas Chavez tends to work from the musical form to the musical idea, Revueltas is apt to work from the idea to the form. It is perhaps for this reason that the music of Revueltas is equally colorful with or without the use of Indian instruments. Chivez, on the other hand, can be rather grim when instrumental local color is removed or is simply absent. The "lean and hungry" sound of both ChAvez and Revueltas music is closer in spirit, and sometimes even in letter, to the early folk style of Stravinski, Bartok, and Falla than to the neoromantic style of Schoenberg and his followers. In any case, what might be called the Indo- Mexican music of ChAvez and Revueltas has reached the main stream of contemporary music, and, owing to certain freshness  MUSIC AND DRAMA 35 MUSIC AND DRAMA 35 MUSIC AND DRAMA 35 of approach, has often disarmed the rarefied atmosphere of in- ternational festivals. Other prominent composers of Mexico include Candelario Huizar (b. 1888), Josi Rolon (b. 1883), the self-exiled Spaniard Rodolfo Halffter (b. 1900), and the younger Group of Four: Salvador Contreras (b. 1912), Daniel Ayala (b. 1908), Pablo Moncayo (b. 1912), and Blas Galindo (b. 1911). III Further south, in the Central American republics, the picture is far from encouraging. In spite of the fact that Guatemala con- tributed a brilliant chapter to the history of Colonial music, Guate- mala, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Pan- ama have not produced, as yet, any really first-rate composer of art music. Folkloric elements are not lacking, on the contrary. What are lacking are fully trained composers who can not only distill these elements but who can also go even further into the musical expression of their national aspirations. The emphasis in present-day Central America is on music instruction and per- formance, and in this connection mention must be made of the recent educational efforts of Salvador Ley (b. 1907) in Guate- mala and of Alfredo de Saint-Malo (b. 1898) in Panama. Folk- loric investigations and some composing in this vein have been accomplished by Jesds (b. 1877) and Ricardo (b. 1891) Castillo in Guatemala and by Luis Delgadillo (b. 1877) in Nicaragua. IV In Colombia and Venezuela, the picture is somewhat different. Though to a lesser degree than in Mexico, Colombia and Vene- zuela flourished musically during the Colonial period. Venezuela, in particular, produced a remarkable school of native composers -primarily church musicians-from about 1770 to the proclama- tion of independence from Spain in 1811. These composers, whose works are being published under the ogis of the Archivo of approach, has often disarmed the rarefied atmosphere of in- ternational festivals. Other prominent composers of Mexico include Candelario Huizar (b. 1888), Jose Robon (b. 1883), the self-exiled Spaniard Rodolfo Halffter (b. 1900), and the younger Group of Four: Salvador Contreras (b. 1912), Daniel Ayala (b. 1908), Pablo Moncayo (b. 1912), and Blas Galindo (b. 1911). III Further south, in the Central American republics, the picture is far from encouraging. In spite of the fact that Guatemala con- tributed a brilliant chapter to the history of Colonial music, Guate- mala, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Pan- ama have not produced, as yet, any really first-rate composer of art music. Folkloric elements are not lacking, on the contrary. What are lacking are fully trained composers who can not only distill these elements but who can also go even further into the musical expression of their national aspirations. The emphasis in present-day Central America is on music instruction and per- formance, and in this connection mention must be made of the recent educational efforts of Salvador Ley (b. 1907) in Guate- mala and of Alfredo de Saint-Malo (b. 1898) in Panama. Folk- loric investigations and some composing in this vein have been accomplished by Jess (b. 1877) and Ricardo (b. 1891) Castillo in Guatemala and by Luis Delgadillo (b. 1877) in Nicaragua. IV In Colombia and Venezuela, the picture is somewhat different. Though to a lesser degree than in Mexico, Colombia and Vene- zuela flourished musically during the Colonial period. Venezuela, in particular, produced a remarkable school of native composers -primarily church musicians-from about 1770 to the proclama- tion of independence from Spain in 1811. These composers, whose works are being published under the ogis of the Archivo of approach, has often disarmed the rarefied atmosphere of in- ternational festivals. Other prominent composers of Mexico include Candelario Huizar (b. 1888), Josi Rolon (b. 1883), the self-exiled Spaniard Rodolfo Halffter (b. 1900), and the younger Group of Four: Salvador Contreras (b. 1912), Daniel Ayala (b. 1908), Pablo Moncayo (b. 1912), and Blas Galindo (b. 1911). III Further south, in the Central American republics, the picture is far from encouraging. In spite of the fact that Guatemala con- tributed a brilliant chapter to the history of Colonial music, Guate- mala, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Pan- ama have not produced, as yet, any really first-rate composer of art music. Folkloric elements are not lacking, on the contrary. What are lacking are fully trained composers who can not only distill these elements but who can also go even further into the musical expression of their national aspirations. The emphasis in present-day Central America is on music instruction and per- formance, and in this connection mention must be made of the recent educational efforts of Salvador Ley (b. 1907) in Guate- mala and of Alfredo de Saint-Mato (b. 1898) in Panama. Folk- loric investigations and some composing in this vein have been accomplished by Jesus (b. 1877) and Ricardo (b. 1891) Castillo in Guatemala and by Luis Delgadillo (b. 1877) in Nicaragua. IV In Colombia and Venezuela, the picture is somewhat different. Though to a lesser degree than in Mexico, Colombia and Vene- zuela flourished musically during the Colonial period. Venezuela, in particular, produced a remarkable school of native composers -primarily church musicians-from about 1770 to the proclama- tion of independence from Spain in 1811. These composers, whose works are being published under the egis of the Archivo  36 The Caribbean de Mdsica Colonial Venezolana, are further proof of the auspicious beginnings of art music in the New World. With regard to contemporary music, Colombia has produced one of the most interesting and prolific of all Latin American composers of his generation: Guillermo Uribe-Holguin (b. 1880). A pupil of Vincent d'Indy at the Schola Cantorum in Paris, Uribe-Holguin has kept abreast of contemporary trends and has exerted a most salutary influence on the development of con- temporary music in his native country. As a teacher and con- ductor-but above all, as a composer-he has led the way for many of the younger men. Unfortunately, the almost total absence of publishing facilities, the well-known indifference of commer- cial recording companies with regard to contemporary music, and, finally, the overwhelming difficulties of securing adequate per- formances have all contributed to a certain manner of isolation far too typical of so many Latin American composers today. In this connection, it might be well to point out the efforts to over- come the first of these difficulties-the almost total absence of publishing facilities-by Curt Lange with his Editorial Inter- americana de Compositores in Montevideo. Other composers of Colombia include Emirto de Lima (b. 1892), who has done a considerable amount of folkloric in- vestigation, and Carlos Posada-Amador (b. 1908), a pupil of Nadia Boulanger and of Paul Dukas in Paris. In Venezuela, the contemporary scene is dominated by the personalities of Juan Lecuna (b. 1898), a serious composer of unquestionable talent, and by Juan Bautista Plaza (b. 1898), organist, teacher, and editor of the musical manuscripts pertaining to Venezuela's Colonial period. Whereas most if not all of the preceding countries have been influenced, actively or passively, by Pre-Columbian music and instruments, no such theory can be advanced for the island re- publics. At best we have the early accounts of the Spanish histor- 36 The Caribbean 36 The Caribbean de Mdsica Colonial Venezolana, are further proof of the auspicious beginnings of art music in the New World. With regard to contemporary music, Colombia has produced one of the most interesting and prolific of all Latin American composers of his generation: Guillermo Uribe-Holguin (b. 1880). A pupil of Vincent d'Indy at the Schola Cantorum in Paris, Uribe-Holguin has kept abreast of contemporary trends and has exerted a most salutary influence on the development of con- temporary music in his native country. As a teacher and con- ductor-but above all, as a composer-he has led the way for many of the younger men. Unfortunately, the almost total absence of publishing facilities, the well-known indifference of commer- cial recording companies with regard to contemporary music, and, finally, the overwhelming difficulties of securing adequate per- formances have all contributed to a certain manner of isolation far too typical of so many Latin American composers today. In this connection, it might be well to point out the efforts to over- come the first of these difficulties-the almost total absence of publishing facilities-by Curt Lange with his Editorial Inter- americana de Compositores in Montevideo. Other composers of Colombia include Emirto de Lima (b. 1892), who has done a considerable amount of folkloric in- vestigation, and Carlos Posada-Amador (b. 1908), a pupil of Nadia Boulanger and of Paul Dukas in Paris. In Venezuela, the contemporary scene is dominated by the personalities of Juan Lecuna (b. 1898), a serious composer of unquestionable talent, and by Juan Bautista Plaza (b. 1898), organist, teacher, and editor of the musical manuscripts pertaining to Venezuela's Colonial period. V Whereas most if not all of the preceding countries have been influenced, actively or passively, by Pre-Columbian music and instruments, no such theory can be advanced for the island re- publics. At best we have the early accounts of the Spanish histor- de Mtsica Colonial Venezolana, are further proof of the auspicious beginnings of art music in the New World. With regard to contemporary music, Colombia has produced one of the most interesting and prolific of all Latin American composers of his generation: Guillermo Uribe-Holguin (b. 1880). A pupil of Vincent d'Indy at the Schola Cantorum in Paris, Uribe-Holguin has kept abreast of contemporary trends and has exerted a most salutary influence on the development of con- temporary music in his native country. As a teacher and con- ductor-but above all, as a composer-he has led the way for many of the younger men. Unfortunately, the almost total absence of publishing facilities, the well-known indifference of commer- cial recording companies with regard to contemporary music, and, finally, the overwhelming difficulties of securing adequate per- formances have all contributed to a certain manner of isolation far too typical of so many Latin American composers today. In this connection, it might be well to point out the efforts to over- come the first of these difficulties-the almost total absence of publishing facilities-by Curt Lange with his Editorial Inter- americana de Compositores in Montevideo. Other composers of Colombia include Emirto de Lima (b. 1892), who has done a considerable amount of folkloric in- vestigation, and Carlos Posada-Amador (b. 1908), a pupil of Nadia Boulanger and of Paul Dukas in Paris. In Venezuela, the contemporary scene is dominated by the personalities of Juan Lecuna (b. 1898), a serious composer of unquestionable talent, and by Juan Bautista Plaza (b. 1898), organist, teacher, and editor of the musical manuscripts pertaining to Venezuela's Colonial period. Whereas most if not all of the preceding countries have been influenced, actively or passively, by Pre-Columbian music and instruments, no such theory can be advanced for the island re- publics. At best we have the early accounts of the Spanish histor-  MUSIC AND DRAMA 37 MUSIC AND DRAMA 37 MUSIC AND DRAMA 37 ians, which are accurate enough in their own way, but which do not and cannot give us a truly documented report of what music was like in this area prior to 1492. In any case, contrary to what happened on the mainland, the original inhabitants disappeared, and with them disappeared their instruments and their music. European folklore took a firm hold from the start, and al- though African elements were quick to exert a strong and un- deniable influence, one is hardly conceivable without the other. To be sure, both of them have their musically independent areas, but more often than not they tend to fuse and overlap, making it almost impossible to assign with any degree of accuracy definite influences to the one or to the other. Moreover, it seems futile to attempt to separate them when obviously they are at their best together. Why separate the coffee from the milk when cafi con leche is such a perfect result? As in Mexico, with regard to Pre-Columbian music and in- struments, the extreme position with regard to African influence in the folk music of Cuba is the one which fired the imagination of the younger composers and which produced two of its most representative contemporary composers: Amadeo Rolddn (1900- 1939) and Alejandro Garcia Caturla (1906-1940). Unlike Chavez and Revueltas in Mexico, however, neither Roldin, who studied in Madrid, nor Caturla, who studied in Paris, was in- fluenced by their older colleagues Eduardo Sanchez de Fuentes (1874-1944) or Joaquin Nin (1879-1949). Both of them, un- fortunately, died prematurely. Their scores, for the most part orchestral, are characterized by a feeling for disjointed rhythms and short, percussive-like motives. Roldin's orchestral sense tends to be more practical and at times even more effective, the result perhaps of his many years experience as an orchestral musician and conductor. Caturla, on the other hand, has a melodic gift which, had it been given time to develop, might have radically changed his osthetic inclinations. Both of them succeeded in reaching the main stream of contemporary music. Other composers in Cuba include Jos6 Ardevol (b. 1911), the ians, which are accurate enough in their own way, but which do not and cannot give us a truly documented report of what music was like in this area prior to 1492. In any case, contrary to what happened on the mainland, the original inhabitants disappeared, and with them disappeared their instruments and their music. European folklore took a firm hold from the start, and al- though African elements were quick to exert a strong and un- deniable influence, one is hardly conceivable without the other. To be sure, both of them have their musically independent areas, but more often than not they tend to fuse and overlap, making it almost impossible to assign with any degree of accuracy definite influences to the one or to the other. Moreover, it seems futile to attempt to separate them when obviously they are at their best together. Why separate the coffee from the milk when cafi con leche is such a perfect result? As in Mexico, with regard to Pre-Columbian music and in- struments, the extreme position with regard to African influence in the folk music of Cuba is the one which fired the imagination of the younger composers and which produced two of its most representative contemporary composers: Amadeo Roldan (1900- 1939) and Alejandro Garcia Caturla (1906-1940). Unlike Chavez and Revueltas in Mexico, however, neither Roldan, who studied in Madrid, nor Caturla, who studied in Paris, was in- fluenced by their older colleagues Eduardo Sanchez de Fuentes (1874-1944) or Joaquin Nin (1879-1949). Both of them, un- fortunately, died prematurely. Their scores, for the most part orchestral, are characterized by a feeling for disjointed rhythms and short, percussive-like motives. RoldAn's orchestral sense tends to be more practical and at times even more effective, the result perhaps of his many years experience as an orchestral musician and conductor. Caturla, on the other hand, has a melodic gift which, had it been given time to develop, might have radically changed his osthetic inclinations. Both of them succeeded in reaching the main stream of contemporary music. Other composers in Cuba include Jos6 Ardevol (b. 1911), the ians, which are accurate enough in their own way, but which do not and cannot give us a truly documented report of what music was like in this area prior to 1492. In any case, contrary to what happened on the mainland, the original inhabitants disappeared, and with them disappeared their instruments and their music. European folklore took a firm hold from the start, and al- though African elements were quick to exert a strong and un- deniable influence, one is hardly conceivable without the other. To be sure, both of them have their musically independent areas, but more often than not they tend to fuse and overlap, making it almost impossible to assign with any degree of accuracy definite influences to the one or to the other. Moreover, it seems futile to attempt to separate them when obviously they are at their best together. Why separate the coffee from the milk when cafi con leche is such a perfect result? As in Mexico, with regard to Pre-Columbian music and in- struments, the extreme position with regard to African influence in the folk music of Cuba is the one which fired the imagination of the younger composers and which produced two of its most representative contemporary composers: Amadeo Roldan (1900- 1939) and Alejandro Garcia Caturla (1906-1940). Unlike Chivez and Revueltas in Mexico, however, neither Roldin, who studied in Madrid, nor Caturla, who studied in Paris, was in- fluenced by their older colleagues Eduardo Sanchez de Fuentes (1874-1944) or Joaquin Nin (1879-1949). Both of them, un- fortunately, died prematurely. Their scores, for the most part orchestral, are characterized by a feeling for disjointed rhythms and short, percussive-like motives. RoldAn's orchestral sense tends to be more practical and at times even more effective, the result perhaps of his many years experience as an orchestral musician and conductor. Caturla, on the other hand, has a melodic gift which, had it been given time to develop, might have radically changed his osthetic inclinations. Both of them succeeded in reaching the main stream of contemporary music. Other composers in Cuba include Jose Ardevol (b. 1911), the  38 The Caribbean stimulating leader of a younger group which includes Harold Gramatges (b. 1918), Edgardo Martin (b. 1915), and Julian Orb6n (b. 1925). With regard to the other island republics and the Territory of Puerto Rico, contemporary composers of art music are virtually nonexistent. There are ample signs, however, of a tremendously vital folkloric activity, one which seems almost too vital to harness; but there are no signs, at least to my knowledge, of native com- posers ready to face the problem of national music and ready to determine, by their example and by their compositions, whether folklore is for them a crutch, a walking stick, or a signpost. As in Central America, talent may not be lacking, but the proper training of a composer is not something that can be im- provised overnight or that can be simply wished into existence. Generations of Mexican musicians labored long and well before producing representative composers like Carlos Chivez and Sil- vestre Revueltas. The same can be said with regard to Amadeo Roldin and Alejandro Garcia Caturla in Cuba. For the rest of the island republics and for Central America in general, one can voice the hope that they, too, will produce in time a group of composers of art music, eager to seek and find the main stream of contemporary music and be fully representative of our Ameri- can aspirations. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY General Chase, Gilbert. A Guide to Latin American Music. Washington: United States Government Printing Office, 1945. ---. The Music of Spain. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., Inc., 1941. Durin, Gustavo. Recordings of Latin American Songs and Dances. Washington: Pan American Union, Music Series No. 3, 1942. Saminsky, Lazare. Living Music of the Americas. New York: Howell, Soskin and Crown, 1949. Slonimsky, Nicolas. Music of Latin America. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Co., 1945. 38 The Caribbean 38 The Caribbean stimulating leader of a younger group which includes Harold Gramatges (b. 1918), Edgardo Martin (b. 1915), and Julian Orb6n (b. 1925). With regard to the other island republics and the Territory of Puerto Rico, contemporary composers of art music are virtually nonexistent. There are ample signs, however, of a tremendously vital folkloric activity, one which seems almost too vital to harness; but there are no signs, at least to my knowledge, of native com- posers ready to face the problem of national music and ready to determine, by their example and by their compositions, whether folklore is for them a crutch, a walking stick, or a signpost. As in Central America, talent may not be lacking, but the proper training of a composer is not something that can be im- provised overnight or that can be simply wished into existence. Generations of Mexican musicians labored long and well before producing representative composers like Carlos Chivez and Sil- vestre Revueltas. The same can be said with regard to Amadeo Roldin and Alejandro Garcia Caturla in Cuba. For the rest of the island republics and for Central America in general, one can voice the hope that they, too, will produce in time a group of composers of art music, eager to seek and find the main stream of contemporary music and be fully representative of our Ameri- can aspirations. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY General Chase, Gilbert. A Guide to Latin American Music. Washington: United States Government Printing Office, 1945. ---. The Music of Spain. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., Inc., 1941. Durasn, Gustavo. Recordings of Latin American Songs and Dances. Washington: Pan American Union, Music Series No. 3, 1942. Saminsky, Lazare. Living Music of the Americas. New York: Howell, Soskin and Crown, 1949. Slonimsky, Nicolis. Music of Latin America. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Co., 1945. stimulating leader of a younger group which includes Harold Gramatges (b. 1918), Edgardo Martin (b. 1915), and Juliin Orb6n (b. 1925). With regard to the other island republics and the Territory of Puerto Rico, contemporary composers of art music are virtually nonexistent. There are ample signs, however, of a tremendously vital folkloric activity, one which seems almost too vital to harness; but there are no signs, at least to my knowledge, of native com- posers ready to face the problem of national music and ready to determine, by their example and by their compositions, whether folklore is for them a crutch, a walking stick, or a signpost. As in Central America, talent may not be lacking, but the proper training of a composer is not something that can be im- provised overnight or that can be simply wished into existence. Generations of Mexican musicians labored long and well before producing representative composers like Carlos Chivez and Sil- vestre Revueltas. The same can be said with regard to Amadeo Roldin and Alejandro Garcia Caturla in Cuba. For the rest of the island republics and for Central America in general, one can voice the hope that they, too, will produce in time a group of composers of art music, eager to seek and find the main stream of contemporary music and be fully representative of our Ameri- can aspirations. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY General Chase, Gilbert. A Guide to Latin American Music. Washington: United States Government Printing Office, 1945. ---. The Music of Spain. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., Inc., 1941. Duran, Gustavo. Recordings of Latin American Songs and Dances. Washington: Pan American Union, Music Series No. 3, 1942. Saminsky, Lazare. Living Music of the Americas. New York: Howell, Soskin and Crown, 1949. Slonimsky, Nicolds. Music of Latin America. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Co., 1945.  MUSIC AND DRAMA 39 MUSIC AND DRAMA 39 MUSIC AND DRAMA 39 Castpanpd,Dnil,and MndlicenpteT. Instrumeal precoreiano.a Mico:p Im~p. del Mupeo Nacionapl, 1933. Galindo,, Miguepl. Nociones de historpia de la muicap mejicana, 1. Colima Tip. de El Drapgon,, 1933. Mayer-Sprra, Dtto,. Panorama de, la ,,ica mexicana desde la independen- cies has t la atualidftd. Mexico El Colegio de Mexico, 1941. Mendoza,,Vicente T. El romanc papoily elpcorido meicano,. Mex-. ftpo: Eds. de la Universidad Nacionapl Aultanoma, 1939. p coloniafl. Mico:,, Editoriatl Cultpra, 1934. Stevenson, obert. Music in Mexico. New, York, Thoasa Y. Crowll Co,., 1992. Central Amerpicap Vasquez~, Rafael A. Hitora de lia miaen Guatemala. Cuatemala: Tip. Nacional, 1993. Colombia~k and Venezuela Perdop Escar,, Jos6 Ignacpio,. Historiap de la mica en, Colombiaf. Bogotid: Pbl. del Minpisterio de Educatidp, 1945. Plaza, Juan Bautista. "Music in Caracaps (1770-1811),' Thep Musial Quartely, XXIX, 2. Cuba Capentier, Alejo. La muiae Cuba. M6xico: Fon,,do dp Cupltura Econ6,mica, 1946. Grenpt, Empilio,. Muicat popular cbappa. Havana:. Publ. dpi Minpisterio de, Agicltua, 1939. Ortiz, erando. Los, ipnstrumentos, de ft puiip afrpppbana,. Havanpa: Publl. Mintistepio de Educacpidp, 1992. ---. Losbiles p el tpea de los negros ent e folklpre de Cubap. Haana Edicionps Crdpenas y Ci,,., 1991. ---p Laafican~iat de ft msica folkldrica dp Cpbap. Havana:, Edi- pionesa Cardeas y Cip., 1990. DISCOGRAPHY Mexico Castaneda, Daniel, andMendoa, VicpntepT. Intrumentpapl precor,,ltsiano. M6,,ip,,, Imp. del Musc, Nacionppl, 1933. Galindo,, Miguepl. Nppionpep de histori,, de la, muica mjiana,, . Colima:, Tip. de El Dragd,,, 1933. Mayer-Serra, DOito. Panoaa de la musica aeiaa desdela independen- ciap hasta1, la, actualidad. Mexico: El Coletgio, de Mexico, 1941. Mpenda, VicpntepT. Elppromaepa3l ylacoido mxian.M e- ico:, Eds. de lp Upiveridad Nacpional, Autldnoma,, 1939. Saldivar,, Gabripl. Histpri,, de lap mupsipa pen Mexico: dpoca precorteiaa p colonial. Mexico: Ediptfi Culua, 1934. Stevenson, Robert. Muspip pn Mexico,. Npw York: Thomas,,, Y. Crowell Co,., 1952. Cpptral Amerpicap Vasquez, Rafael A. Histpiap de lap mpipca pp uatepmla. Gpptpeppla: Tip. Nacional1, 1950. Colomiaf and Venezula Pperdomo Escobar, Jos,3 Ignac~io. Historia de ,a m,,icap en Colombiaf. Bogota:, Ppbl. del Ministprio de Eduacpi,,, 1949. Plaza,, Juan Bautsta. "Mpusic in Caaa (1770-1811),' The, Musical Qu,,ately, XXIX, 2. Carpentier, Alejo,. Lap muica pp Cpba. Miipo, Fondo de, Cultura Econpomica, 1946. de, Agricultura, 1939. Daft, erando. Los instrumtosl de ft muia afroeuana,. Havana: Pbl. Ministerio de Educacidn, 1932. --.Losbailes, y el teatro de Ios pagrs pp el folklore de, Cubat. Havana: Edipiones Cfrdpenas y Cie., 1931. --, La afipania de ft puaf, folkldrica dft Cuba,. Hapvana: Edi- piones Cdedasa y Cft., 1993. DISCOGRAPHY Meipco Caillo, Julian Preludio p CriIdbpI Coln Columbia 311 SM Chavez,, Carlos, Los Cua Soles,... Danza Amerian Columbia p centeml (BaSlet) 70334D AMexipo CasftanpdaDaniel,pand Mpndoza, VicenteT. Instrumepntal preorsanotp. Mico:, Itmp. dpI Muspo Naional,, 1933. Galindo,, Migupi. Nppiones de hisora de ft micpp mejicaa,, 1. Col1ima:, Tip. dp El Drag3n, 1933. Mayer-Serra, Otto,. Panoaa de, ft ,,ticap mexicaa desde, ft indpadpt- pip Ipata ft actualidatd. MAodpco: El Colegio de Meicop,, 1941. Mendoza, VicenteT. El oance spanpol y l cordo,,meican. Me- ico: Eds. de ft Unpivpersidad Nacpional Autonomap, 1939. Saldivar,, Gabriel. Hisftoria de fto ,icaen M4,xico: dppa preoreaaa ypcolonil. Micpo: Editoriafl Cultura, 1934. Stpeveason, Robpert. Musicp it, Mpexpco. New Yorpk: Thomast Y. Crowell Co,., 1932. Central Amerpica Vasquez, Rapfal A. Hitoria de ft m,,ica pp uatemala. Guatelp a:lp Tip. Nacional, 1930. Cof,lombi and Vpeppzueft Perd,tm Espcobap, Josft Ignacio,. itopria de ft musfica pn Cotlombi. Bogota: Publ. del Miniteprio de Edupcpto, 1943. Plaza, J,,an, Bautista. "Musip in Caracas, (1770-1811)" The, Musipal Quarterly, XXIX, 2. Cubap Capenptitfr, Alpejo. Lat muica an CuIba. Moxdpo: Fopdo dp C,,ltup Epcop6,,ica, 1946. Grpnpt, Empiio. Msipa ppulftr pcuban. Havana:, Publ. deI Minitprio de Agrieultura, 1939. GOti, ernando. Lps instpumtospp dp ft mpicap afrocubana. Havana: Pabl. Miniteprio de Edupcapion, 1952. --.Los bapiles p el tatro, de los negro pp el follore de, Cub. Hpvppp: Edipipppp Cfrdenast p Cft., 1991. --La aficanpia de la miafpp fplkltipa de, Cubat. Hpvapa: Edl- pippas Cirdeas p Cip., 1990. DISCOG2RAPHY Mexipp Carrillo, Julftn Prelpdio, p Criptob1 Co,16p Columpbip 011 SM Chtae, Carlos, Lpp Cuatm, Solep... Dpppp Ampprippp Columtbia ppppteml, (Bale) 70334D Mexico Carrillo, Jpliap Prplpdio, p Cristbal Coldp Chdae, Carlos, Los, Cuatro Spies... Dana a pppte,,tl (Ballet) Colpumbip SlIOM Amepripap Colpumbia 703 34D  40 Chavez, Carls Sinfonia de Antigoa Sifi4a4 India Sontin Xocipili- acilxwhitl La Paloma Azul (Folk song4arrangemen) The Daughter o1 Colc4h (Balet Suite) Republican Overture El Sol, eorrido Tocat4 a or ercusio Halffter, Rn4,114 0ongs Ponce, Manuel Two Popular Mexian Songs Paganini, ar4. Ponce: Andant6no Variao 544414 Meridioal Theme and Variations: Folies Mazur4ka, Petite Valse Sonata4 Also many reodings 41 Es14ellita Revueltas, Silvesr Se4semaya ClomaI, Ur1be-Ho41guin, Daz 0uile11 Troo e el4 sent~a6iient popular Cuba4 041ur14, Alejandro1 041a4 Suite No. I for Garcia Fiano and Winds Peas Alfo-anosw Nin, Joquin Cadena de Valses... Vals-serenata Danza 1b1rica The Caribbean Vkctor 12337/9 New Music Quartely Rordings 1012 Ameican Columbia 70334D American Columbia 70333 0 and LP: MIL 2080 Amfian, Iet 4 LP: American Deca DL 7512 Part o1 Am61, Set 2 LP: America Deca DL 9527 Part 41 Aaf61, Set 2 LP: America Decca DL 9527 Boston. 207 Chant1 4d Monde 100 1/5 H.M.V. K81597 Ameian Decca DL 9647 [P: Columbia CX 1020 H.M.V. DR 1567/8 H.M.V. DA 1502 H1.M.V. AB 656 H.M.V. DB 6915 04olum1ia 707170 Angel 35105 Cam1bridge 203 Vito 1623 014>44 166371; Amerian Deca 40 Chlave, Calos Halfte, 04>44114 Ponce, M1anuel Revueltas, Silvestr The Caribbean Sinfona de Antigona Victor 12337/9 Sinfon1a India Sonatina New Music Quartely Recodings 1012 Xacipii-4acbihiI American Columbia 703 34D La Paoa Azul (Bilk American4 Co1lumbia song 444ang1me41) 70333 D an LP: MIL 2080 The Daughter of Colchis Amfi6,, Se1 4 (Ba1let 0ui0e) LP: American4 Decca> DL 7312 Republican 0verture Part 41 Aaf64, Se1 2 LP: American 0ecca DL 9527 El Sol, eorrid Part 40 A46, Set 2 LP: Amerian Decca DL 9327 Toccata 144 Per4ussi44 Boston 207 5444s Cha4t d4 Monde 100 1/5 1Tw4 Popular 51exica4 D.M.V. K8597 04441 Paganini, ar4. P4nce: Ame44ic44 Decca Andant6no Variato DL 9647 S44414 Meridional LP: Co1lumbia CX 1020 Theme and Variat4ons H.M.V. DB 1567/1 Fo1ies Mazurka, Petit Valse H.M.V. DA 1552 Sonata H.M.V. AR 636 Also 4m44y 44444144g1 41 Est1ellita Senema4ya H.M.V. DB 6515 40 0Ch44ez, Carlos Ha410144, Rodolfo 14444, Manuel1 Revueltas, 541444144 The Caribbean 50414414 44 Antigona Victor 12337/5 60414404 14454 So444644 New Music Q444r4e1ly Recordings 1012 Xochipili-acuilxmh0it American C414um114 703 34D La 1414444 Azul (Folk Amer4can Co1lumbia s444 4444444em441) 70303 D a4d LP:> ML 2080 164 Daughter 41 Colchis4 1464, 141 4 (04041t 1464e) LP; American4 Deaa DL 7512 Republican 04441444 Part 41 Amfi6,, Iet 2 LP; American D4444 DL 9527 El 141, 444,144 Part 41 A446n4, 041 2 LP: American4 Decca4 DL 5527 T444414 144 Percussio4 B4sto4 207 144g1 Chant 44 Monde 100 1/5 Two Popular 51441444 H.M.V. K80597 Songs Paganini, are. Ponce American Dcca Andant044 Var1ato DL 9647 044414 Mer1diona1 LP: Co14umbia CX 1020 114444 444 Var4ians H.M.V. DR 1567/0 Folies M4444k4, Petit Va144 H.M1.V. DA 1552 544414 H1.M.V. AR 636 Also 41445 4444445441 41 Estrellita Sensemaya H.M.V. DR 6915 Colombia4 Ur1b-Ho41g4i4, 04441 04104444o Tr4o 444 14464154414ent p4p4144 C414 Caturla, A14j14444 046ba4 14114 No. 1 144 0444i4 P1ian4 44d Winds 1444441 Alfro-Cubanos Nin, Joaquin Cadena de V41se4... Vals-serenata D4444 101r144 Col14mb1a 707170 Angel 35105 04446ri444 203 Victor 1623 04464 166371; Americ~an Decca 20544 Colombia4 Urib-Hol1g4i4, 04444 04104444o Troz444o en 44lsen 14414t popular4 04uba Caturla, Alejandro 04144 54114 No. 1 144 0444i4 Piano1 444 Winds 1444441 Alfro-Cubanos Ni,,, Joaquin C44444 44 Valses.. . Vals-serenata Danza 1144444 0414um614 70717D An1gel 35105 Cambridge4 203 Victor 1623 04444 166371; American Decca  MUSIC AND DRAMA Nin,, Joaquin Danza,. Ibicia daluz; Granadina.; Mon.- taOasa; Lasera-Nin: El Pd.,)io Mlauea Odeon. 188756; Amerai Deca 20520; 0d6. 196150 0Ode.n 108693/5; Ann Decca, 20541/3 41 MUSIC AND DRAMA rianCollecton (Tona.da, de, la Nila Perdida,; Can.to, An.- taniisa; Lasera-Nin:; El Pigurio Mlauea 0Od6.n 188756; Amerik Da.,.a 20528; Odeon. 196150 Odeon 188693/5; Ame, Decca,. 20541/3 41 MUSIC AND DRAMA tanesa,; Lasera-Nin:; El Pigurio1 Mlauea 0Ode.n 188756; American Da.,.a 20521; 0Od6.n 0Ode6. 188693/5; American Decca,. 20541/3 C.ato de, los Pijaros. Dd,.n 104223 DA 1057 -- 0Ode,6n 135120; Brazlian. 0Ode6n A 3201; 0.5.6., 166091; Colum..bia, LF 140; Amerian Columb,.ia 419451 -American Colum.,bia 192M:1 3944X Jota. Tortos.,ina Via.,, 1984 Mlaguena0. Victor 1904; 0.5.,6. 118693; American. Dea. 20543; H.MlV. DA 1086 Mon.tanesa, H.M.V. E 508; Victor 4196, .. -- Od5eon 1289600; Odeon. --0.0±6.. 230135 Pano. Murc.iano. H.M.V. DA 1086; Ode6.n --Colum,.bia, DOX 664 17588D; 0.5e6n 180695; American,. Deca 20543 S.ata Od6.n 195125; Braz.ilian. Od5,6. A 3281; 0Ode6. 128970.,; 0Od6.o. 166091; Columb.ia, LF 145; 4194M, .. Tonada.5. de Ila Nil., Ode,6n 188693; American Perdida De.,ca. 20541 Tona..da, de Valdov,.i...s Columbia6. DDX 604 VOilancico. Ara.gones6; Mur.- Viator 10-1100 cin;Cata16n; Anda- Can..tea Astuiana1 Victor, 10-1343 Can.to, 6e los Pajaros, 0.5e6n 184229 Gr.,aadina Hi. Mater' V.,ice. DA 1037 -- Ode,6n 195125; Brazilian. 0.5e6n A 3281; 0Od6.n 166091; Colum..bia, LF 145; Ameran, Colum,.bia 4 194M 19251; 3944X Jota. Tortosina. Viato, 1984 Mala~guena Via.,, 1984; 06d6.n 188693; American Dec,.,a 20543; H.M.V. DA 1886 Mon.ta,6esa - H.M.V. E 588; Victor. 4196, .. -- 0Od6.n 1289600; 0Od6.n -- 0Ode.n 238135 Pan0. Murca,.. H.M.V. DA 1006; 0.5,6. 184246 --Colum..bia, DOX 664 17588D; 0Ode6. 100695; American. Decca, 20543 S.,,t. 0.5,6n 195125; Brazilian. 0.5,6. A 3281; 0.5,6n 128970..; 0O16.,. 166091; Colum.bia LF 145; 4194M, 6.. Tonada6. de la, Nil., 0Ode6n 188693; American.,. Perdida. Decca 20541 Tonada6. de. Valdovi.,,s Coumi DOX 664 Villan..ico. Aragones; Mur- Victor. 10-1100 cino atla;An, Cantilena. Asturiana Victor, 10-1343 C.ato 6de los Pij.,,a 0O1,6. 884229 DA 1037 -- 0.5,6. 195125; Brzla 0.5e6n A 3281; 0.5,6n 166091; ColIum.bia, LF 145; Ameirican Colum.,bia 4194M1 192M1; 3944X Jota. Tortisina Viato, 1984 Malaguena Victor 1984; 0.5,6. 188695; Ameran. Dea, 20543; H.M1.V. DA 1086 MontRaes H.M.V. F 588; Victor 4196, .. -0.Od6.n 1289600; 0.5e6n -- 0Odeon 238135 Pno. Murciano,. H.M.V. DA 1086; 0O,6., 184246 -- Colum..bia, DOX 664 17580D; 0.5,6n 180693; Ameran... Decca,. 20543 S.,,t 0Ode.n 195125; Brailian 0.5,6. A 3281; 0.5,6. 128570.,; 0Od.on 166051; Colum.,bia, LF 145; 4194M5, 6.,. Tonada6. 6e Ila Nina 0.5,6. 188693; Amerani.. Perida, Decca, 20541 Tonada6. de, Valdovinots Columb,6ia DOX 664 Vilncc raoe; u-Vitr1010  42 The Caribbean Nin, Joquin Vi1lancic Vasc; Castel- Vicor~ 10-1073 lan; de GobaB; Gal- lego Villancico Cata10n Columbia DOX 664 El Vito Victor 10-1109; Viator 2213; Ode6,n 104246 -- GCIlumbia, DOX 664 Trasciptions of ebgt- Anon:; El Amort escomo Viator 10-1109 unNino Ghasqueados; El Jil- Oro, Literes: Adis y Galtea Victor, 2201 Comentarios no,. 2, str Odon~ 166220 unTbhme de J. de Bassa,; no. 5, sru Air de P. E,06ve -- ow- 1 and 2 Cbhant du Mode GA 5063 -- o. 5 toly ,Oeo 12006G, Sute, Espagole Colum,,bba DOX 664; Odon~ 166090/1; Chant, do Monde GA Old Spanishb Keyboard Cbhant du, Monde Music (Joa;quint Nin,, ed.) 0079/01 Cbhants d'Espagne Concert 1141 CBS 1170 Nin-Cudmell, Variatons on a, Tbeof Pbilbarmonia 106 Joaquin Mild,, Qro, Julian Predludiot and Tocata Pbilbhawmonia 106 Ro~ldan,, A,,,do R~itmica no,. I Angel 30105 42 Nin, Joaquin Vila o Vasco; GCastdl- lano; de Crdoba; Gal- leo Villancio Vasco, VOIancdc CataIao El Vio The Caribbean Victor 10-1073 Victor 2213 Columobia DOX 664 Viator 10-1109; Vitor, 2213; Odd,, 104246 42 Nin, Joaquin The Caribbean Transiptons of digbt- eethetb uy copoi- t1ons Aon:, El Amtorscm Vitor, 10-1109 unNinot Laserna: Tiranat Columbia D 12040 Lae:Lw os amantes Victtor 2201 Ghasqueados; El Jil- gutdtcon, Pitt de Oro, Literes Ads y Galate Vitor 2200 Comentarios o. 2, 0ur 0Odeo 166220 unTheme de J. de Blass; no. 5, sru Air de P. Este Villancico Vaco; Gatel- Viator 10-0073 lao; de, G6rdoba; Gal- Villanico Vaso Vicor 2203 El Vito, Vitor, 10-1100; Viat 2213; Odon, 1842 -- Golumt,,bia DOX 664 Transciptons tof digbt- Aon: El Amor som Vitor,, 10-1109 unNinot Laserna:; Tiranta GColumbia D 12040 Laserna: Los, ates Vitor,, 2201 Chasqueost; El Jil- guedto co Pitt do Litres Adis y Galatea Vitor, 2201 Coetros:n. 2, 0 den 166220 unThemte de J. do Bssa; no0, sru Air de P. Etet- -- nos., I and 2 Gbhant dut Montde G -- no. 5 ottly Odon, l2006Gt 46 -- nos,. 1 and 2 Gbhant du, Monde, GA 5063 -- tno. 5 onlyb Odeon, l2006Gt Suite, Espagole Golumbia DOX 664; Odon, 166000/1; Cbhant dtt Mondel GA 5061 Old Spanish Keybard Chant, dt Mtonde Musdic (Joquin, Nbin, ed.) 5079/81 Gbhants d'Espagne GConcert 1141 CHS 1170 Ntin-GCulmell, Variatiots ton Theof Pbilbaronia,,, 106 Roldan, Amado Ritmica ttt. I Angel 30100 A Otdon 166000/1; Gbhant du, Moode GA 5061 Old Spantish Keybtard Gbhant dtu Mtonde Music (Jhoqin Nin, od.) 5079/81 Ghats d'Espagne Cota14 CBS 1170 Nin,-GCulmell, Varitons, ona Tbheme tof Pbilbaroniad 106 Jtoaquin MilOn Dro,, Julbitn Preludio tod Tota Pbilbaron,,,,ia 106 Rotldant, Amatdo Ritmica o. I Angel 30105  Lisa Lekis: THE DANCE AS AN EXPRESSION OF CARIBBEAN FOLKLORE THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE has long been known as a melting pot for the cultures of many nations and many peoples. This has been particularly and uniquely so in the United States. The diverse elements of the folklore and the arts of the country have fused to become a single, rather homogeneous, pattern, with only small islands of difference in isolated communities. In contrast, the area known as the Caribbean is the home of many races and nationalities, whose customs, religions, and languages have retained their separate identities, making im- possible a simple classification such as "Caribbean." In the field of dance, no other geographic area of comparable size can offer the variety, as well as the complexity, of patterns which exists today in the Caribbean. Despite the parade of dance styles set by Caribbean and Latin dance during the last two decades, the greater part of ethnic dance is unknown, buried in the folklore of many races, lost in the ritual of strange religions, and banned by prohibitive laws. Only in the past ten or twenty years has any significant understanding been achieved of the content of ethnic dance and music and of the story of its evolution. We have come to regard dance in the United States as either a simple social function or an art reserved exclusively for the few. Dance as a vital and fundamental part of life and religion is an 43 Lisa Lekis: THE DANCE AS AN EXPRESSION OF CARIBBEAN FOLKLORE THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE has long been known as a melting pot for the cultures of many nations and many peoples. This has been particularly and uniquely so in the United States. The diverse elements of the folklore and the arts of the country have fused to become a single, rather homogeneous, pattern, with only small islands of difference in isolated communities. In contrast, the area known as the Caribbean is the home of many races and nationalities, whose customs, religions, and languages have retained their separate identities, making im- possible a simple classification such as "Caribbean." In the field of dance, no other geographic area of comparable size can offer the variety, as well as the complexity, of patterns which exists today in the Caribbean. Despite the parade of dance styles set by Caribbean and Latin dance during the last two decades, the greater part of ethnic dance is unknown, buried in the folklore of many races, lost in the ritual of strange religions, and banned by prohibitive laws. Only in the past ten or twenty years has any significant understanding been achieved of the content of ethnic dance and music and of the story of its evolution. We have come to regard dance in the United States as either a simple social function or an art reserved exclusively for the few. Dance as a vital and fundamental part of life and religion is an 43 Lisa Lekis: THE DANCE AS AN EXPRESSION OF CARIBBEAN FOLKLORE THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE has long been known as a melting pot for the cultures of many nations and many peoples. This has been particularly and uniquely so in the United States. The diverse elements of the folklore and the arts of the country have fused to become a single, rather homogeneous, pattern, with only small islands of difference in isolated communities. In contrast, the area known as the Caribbean is the home of many races and nationalities, whose customs, religions, and languages have retained their separate identities, making im- possible a simple classification such as "Caribbean." In the field of dance, no other geographic area of comparable size can offer the variety, as well as the complexity, of patterns which exists today in the Caribbean. Despite the parade of dance styles set by Caribbean and Latin dance during the last two decades, the greater part of ethnic dance is unknown, buried in the folklore of many races, lost in the ritual of strange religions, and banned by prohibitive laws. Only in the past ten or twenty years has any significant understanding been achieved of the content of ethnic dance and music and of the story of its evolution. We have come to regard dance in the United States as either a simple social function or an art reserved exclusively for the few. Dance as a vital and fundamental part of life and religion is an  44 The Caribbean 44 The Caribbean 44 The Caribbean alien idea to contemporary society in this country. On the con- trary, dance in the countries of the Caribbean plays a far more important part in the life of every individual than as a recreation or spectator-viewed art, for dance has retained much of its significance as the primary manifestation of culture, folklore, and religion. Dance expresses, as nothing else can, the temperament, mood, and heritage of the Caribbean. Race is the first important determinant in the development of the ethnic and folk dance of Latin America. Considering the Caribbean to be made up of all the countries surrounding the Caribbean itself-Mexico, Central America, northern South America, and the islands of the West Indies-the customs and cultures of three races have over the past four hundred years set the course of all artistic achievement. In pre-Columbian times, the area now known as the Caribbean was inhabited by Indian tribes in widely varying states of civiliza- tion, but Aztecs, Mayas, Toltecs, Caribs, or Arawaks all had in common a reverence for both dance and music, which were in- tegral parts of the daily lives of the people. Among the indigen- ous Indians, both dance and music were closely associated with religion and took a form in which general participation in the ritual dance became the spiritual and overt expression of religious belief. This attitude may be contrasted with that still prevailing among other peoples, such as those of India, Siam, and Java, where dance as a religious manifestation is confined to selected persons who devote their lives to its techniques and performance. In the Western Hemisphere, on the contrary, it can generally be said that dance was performed by persons of all ages and social status. It does not follow that all Indian dances were alike from area to area. Indeed, great differences were apparent. Many varia- tions have been noted by the early conquerors, whose accounts of their adventures in the New World nearly always include at alien idea to contemporary society in this country. On the con- trary, dance in the countries of the Caribbean plays a far more important part in the life of every individual than as a recreation or spectator-viewed art, for dance has retained much of its significance as the primary manifestation of culture, folklore, and religion. Dance expresses, as nothing else can, the temperament, mood, and heritage of the Caribbean. Race is the first important determinant in the development of the ethnic and folk dance of Latin America. Considering the Caribbean to be made up of all the countries surrounding the Caribbean itself-Mexico, Central America, northern South America, and the islands of the West Indies-the customs and cultures of three races have over the past four hundred years set the course of all artistic achievement. In pre-Columbian times, the area now known as the Caribbean was inhabited by Indian tribes in widely varying states of civiliza- tion, but Aztecs, Mayas, Toltecs, Caribs, or Arawaks all had in common a reverence for both dance and music, which were in- tegral parts of the daily lives of the people. Among the indigen- ous Indians, both dance and music were closely associated with religion and took a form in which general participation in the ritual dance became the spiritual and overt expression of religious belief. This attitude may be contrasted with that still prevailing among other peoples, such as those of India, Siam, and Java, where dance as a religious manifestation is confined to selected persons who devote their lives to its techniques and performance. In the Western Hemisphere, on the contrary, it can generally be said that dance was performed by persons of all ages and social status. It does not follow that all Indian dances were alike from area to area. Indeed, great differences were apparent. Many varia- tions have been noted by the early conquerors, whose accounts of their adventures in the New World nearly always include at alien idea to contemporary society in this country. On the con- trary, dance in the countries of the Caribbean plays a far more important part in the life of every individual than as a recreation or spectator-viewed art, for dance has retained much of its significance as the primary manifestation of culture, folklore, and religion. Dance expresses, as nothing else can, the temperament, mood, and heritage of the Caribbean. Race is the first important determinant in the development of the ethnic and folk dance of Latin America. Considering the Caribbean to be made up of all the countries surrounding the Caribbean itself-Mexico, Central America, northern South America, and the islands of the West Indies-the customs and cultures of three races have over the past four hundred years set the course of all artistic achievement. In pre-Columbian times, the area now known as the Caribbean was inhabited by Indian tribes in widely varying states of civiliza- tion, but Aztecs, Mayas, Toltecs, Caribs, or Arawaks all had in common a reverence for both dance and music, which were in- tegral parts of the daily lives of the people. Among the indigen- ous Indians, both dance and music were closely associated with religion and took a form in which general participation in the ritual dance became the spiritual and overt expression of religious belief. This attitude may be contrasted with that still prevailing among other peoples, such as those of India, Siam, and Java, where dance as a religious manifestation is confined to selected persons who devote their lives to its techniques and performance. In the Western Hemisphere, on the contrary, it can generally be said that dance was performed by persons of all ages and social status. It does not follow that all Indian dances were alike from area to area. Indeed, great differences were apparent. Many varia- tions have been noted by the early conquerors, whose accounts of their adventures in the New World nearly always include at  MUSIC AND DRAMA 45 MUSIC AND DRAMA 45 MUSIC AND DRAMA 45 least some mention of ceremonial and ritual dance. It is un- fortunate for the study of the ancient folklore that most of the early observations were made either by priests interested only in exorcizing "devil worship and pagan practices," or by military conquerors who soon came to know and dread the reverberations of the war drums. Thus the dances were judged as being good or bad. Observation was colored by personal prejudice and in- fluenced by a European moral and ethnic code which condemned all culture not based on a medieval concept of Christianity. Con- sequently, full and accurate accounts of many rituals and cere- monies are lost forever. Even Torquemada's comments as to the monotony of the songs of the Aztecs may easily have been in- fluenced by a lack of appreciation for what he called their "marked rhythm." It is certain, however, that the Aztecs did have a form of organized dance academy and that members of the nobility, and even the king, were thoroughly trained in this art.' The majority of Aztec dances were held in honor of the gods, but Father Acosta described dances which apparently expressed simply the joy of dance alone. Many of the sacred and war dances were performed only by men, a custom which has its counterpart in many primitive areas of the world. It is only in our present society that men dancing alone have taken on a new and socially unacceptable connotation. Without detailing the specific mythologies, beliefs, and varia- tions in religious concepts among the indigenous Indians, it can be said that in general religious theory was both animistic and polytheistic. All of man's strength and weakness was reflected in the conduct of the gods who were honored by imitation. This characteristic of the Indians' theology is far from being unique, for their religion contained most of the basic elements of the universal myth of creation and divine powers held by manlike gods. Celebrants of Indian ritual wore clothing to represent the ' Auguste Genin, "Notes on the Dances, Music and Songs of the Ancient and Modern Mexicans," Annual Report, The Smithsonian Institution, 1920. least some mention of ceremonial and ritual dance. It is un- fortunate for the study of the ancient folklore that most of the early observations were made either by priests interested only in exorcizing "devil worship and pagan practices," or by military conquerors who soon came to know and dread the reverberations of the war drums. Thus the dances were judged as being good or bad. Observation was colored by personal prejudice and in- fluenced by a European moral and ethnic code which condemned all culture not based on a medieval concept of Christianity. Con- sequently, full and accurate accounts of many rituals and cere- monies are lost forever. Even Torquemada's comments as to the monotony of the songs of the Aztecs may easily have been in- fluenced by a lack of appreciation for what he called their "marked rhythm." It is certain, however, that the Aztecs did have a form of organized dance academy and that members of the nobility, and even the king, were thoroughly trained in this art.' The majority of Aztec dances were held in honor of the gods, but Father Acosta described dances which apparently expressed simply the joy of dance alone. Many of the sacred and war dances were performed only by men, a custom which has its counterpart in many primitive areas of the world. It is only in our present society that men dancing alone have taken on a new and socially unacceptable connotation. Without detailing the specific mythologies, beliefs, and varia- tions in religious concepts among the indigenous Indians, it can be said that in general religious theory was both animistic and polytheistic. All of man's strength and weakness was reflected in the conduct of the gods who were honored by imitation. This characteristic of the Indians' theology is far from being unique, for their religion contained most of the basic elements of the universal myth of creation and divine powers held by manlike gods. Celebrants of Indian ritual wore clothing to represent the ' Auguste Genin, "Notes on the Dances, Music and Songs of the Ancient and Modern Mexicans," Annual Report, The Smithsonian Institution, 1920. least some mention of ceremonial and ritual dance. It is un- fortunate for the study of the ancient folklore that most of the early observations were made either by priests interested only in exorcizing "devil worship and pagan practices," or by military conquerors who soon came to know and dread the reverberations of the war drums. Thus the dances were judged as being good or bad. Observation was colored by personal prejudice and in- fluenced by a European moral and ethnic code which condemned all culture not based on a medieval concept of Christianity. Con- sequently, full and accurate accounts of many rituals and cere- monies are lost forever. Even Torquemada's comments as to the monotony of the songs of the Aztecs may easily have been in- fluenced by a lack of appreciation for what he called their "marked rhythm." It is certain, however, that the Aztecs did have a form of organized dance academy and that members of the nobility, and even the king, were thoroughly trained in this art.' The majority of Aztec dances were held in honor of the gods, but Father Acosta described dances which apparently expressed simply the joy of dance alone. Many of the sacred and war dances were performed only by men, a custom which has its counterpart in many primitive areas of the world. It is only in our present society that men dancing alone have taken on a new and socially unacceptable connotation. Without detailing the specific mythologies, beliefs, and varia- tions in religious concepts among the indigenous Indians, it can be said that in general religious theory was both animistic and polytheistic. All of man's strength and weakness was reflected in the conduct of the gods who were honored by imitation. This characteristic of the Indians' theology is far from being unique, for their religion contained most of the basic elements of the universal myth of creation and divine powers held by manlike gods. Celebrants of Indian ritual wore clothing to represent the ' Auguste Genin, "Notes on the Dances, Music and Songs of the Ancient and Modern Mexicans," Annual Report, The Smithsonian Institution, 1920.  46 The Caribbean 46 The Caribbean 46 The Caribbean gods and held ceremonies to recall the character and symbols of the deity honored. A similar theme can be found in dances of ancient Egypt held in honor of Apis in which disguised and cos- tumed actors presented scenes from the life of Osiris in dance pageant. Dances among the Indians, whether sacred or secular in theme, were always in imitation of the occupations and customs of the daily life of the dancers. Since gods, too, indulged in the same activities, the dance could be representative of divine as well as moral life. As a result, even the most fragmentary accounts of the actual content of the dances serve as concrete examples of social thought and custom during the pre-Columbian period. For instance, Father Salvatierra makes an early note of tribal custom in California (probably present-day Arizona or New Mexico), re- calling snake dances in which he witnessed "three hundred dancers carrying adders in their mouths." There still exist controversy and disagreement over the ques- tion of whether the ancient dances were direct imitation of daily events, or whether they were in honor of a particular god's day and his activities. Genin cites as an example the day when on the Festival of Apochili, god of fishermen, everyone ate fish, dressed as fishermen, decorated homes and temples in a fishing theme, and in every way glorified the function and character of the god whose day it was.' If this latter theory is correct, it would mean that a wedding dance would not be danced simply to cele- brate nuptial ritual, but would vary according to the god whose day it was. In any case, the difference of theory in actual effect would appear to be slight, for the gods were endowed with the character and pursuits of man. It is logical to assume that the weddings of the gods would resemble those of mortals and that, consequently, it was possible to honor both the occasion and the god simultaneously. Although according to local or regional custom, victory dances ' For a complete discussion of this theory and descriptions of Aztec dance ceremonies, see Genin, op. cit. gods and held ceremonies to recall the character and symbols of the deity honored. A similar theme can be found in dances of ancient Egypt held in honor of Apis in which disguised and cos- tumed actors presented scenes from the life of Osiris in dance pageant. Dances among the Indians, whether sacred or secular in theme, were always in imitation of the occupations and customs of the daily life of the dancers. Since gods, too, indulged in the same activities, the dance could be representative of divine as well as moral life. As a result, even the most fragmentary accounts of the actual content of the dances serve as concrete examples of social thought and custom during the pre-Columbian period. For instance, Father Salvatierra makes an early note of tribal custom in California (probably present-day Arizona or New Mexico), re- calling snake dances in which he witnessed "three hundred dancers carrying adders in their mouths." There still exist controversy and disagreement over the ques- tion of whether the ancient dances were direct imitation of daily events, or whether they were in honor of a particular god's day and his activities. Genin cites as an example the day when on the Festival of Apochili, god of fishermen, everyone ate fish, dressed as fishermen, decorated homes and temples in a fishing theme, and in every way glorified the function and character of the god whose day it was.' If this latter theory is correct, it would mean that a wedding dance would not be danced simply to cele- brate nuptial ritual, but would vary according to the god whose day it was. In any case, the difference of theory in actual effect would appear to be slight, for the gods were endowed with the character and pursuits of man. It is logical to assume that the weddings of the gods would resemble those of mortals and that, consequently, it was possible to honor both the occasion and the god simultaneously. Although according to local or regional custom, victory dances ' For a complete discussion of this theory and descriptions of Aztec dance ceremonies, see Genin, op. cit. gods and held ceremonies to recall the character and symbols of the deity honored. A similar theme can be found in dances of ancient Egypt held in honor of Apis in which disguised and cos- tumed actors presented scenes from the life of Osiris in dance pageant. Dances among the Indians, whether sacred or secular in theme, were always in imitation of the occupations and customs of the daily life of the dancers. Since gods, too, indulged in the same activities, the dance could be representative of divine as well as moral life. As a result, even the most fragmentary accounts of the actual content of the dances serve as concrete examples of social thought and custom during the pre-Columbian period. For instance, Father Salvatierra makes an early note of tribal custom in California (probably present-day Arizona or New Mexico), re- calling snake dances in which he witnessed "three hundred dancers carrying adders in their mouths." There still exist controversy and disagreement over the ques- tion of whether the ancient dances were direct imitation of daily events, or whether they were in honor of a particular god's day and his activities. Genin cites as an example the day when on the Festival of Apochili, god of fishermen, everyone ate fish, dressed as fishermen, decorated homes and temples in a fishing theme, and in every way glorified the function and character of the god whose day it was.' If this latter theory is correct, it would mean that a wedding dance would not be danced simply to cele- brate nuptial ritual, but would vary according to the god whose day it was. In any case, the difference of theory in actual effect would appear to be slight, for the gods were endowed with the character and pursuits of man. It is logical to assume that the weddings of the gods would resemble those of mortals and that, consequently, it was possible to honor both the occasion and the god simultaneously. Although according to local or regional custom, victory dances For a complete discussion of this theory and descriptions of Aztec dance ceremonies, see Genin, op. cit.  MUSIC AND DRAMA 47 MUSIC AND DRAMA 47 MUSIC AND DRAMA 47 varied greatly among the tribes, dance was often used both as a means of torture and of death. On occasion victors in battle re- quired captives to dance until final exhaustion and death put an end to their suffering. Among tribes in northern Mexico, it was customary to deprive the captives of their scalps before the victory dance. The tradition of "dancing to death" was rather wide- spread, and often the victims included the women and children of the unfortunate conquered people. As an added refinement, it was not unusual for the old people of the victorious tribe to torment the captives with flaming torches during the danse maca- bre. If these customs appear barbaric and primitive, they are no more so than the revolutionary dances held in France and Russia in which severed heads on pikes took the place of scalps. Dance is a physical release for emotional tensions, which has no limits in terms of human decency, gentleness, or kindness, and has been used from time immemorial as a purge of the soul. Dance can be joyous, savage, delicate or obscene, osthetic or evil, and can express in material form all the emotions, conflicts, hates, and loves of the human soul. South American Indians, as well as those of Mexico, incorpo- rated sun worship into their spiritual philosophy; many dances eulogized the sun god and, with sacrificial offerings, praised or propitiated him. The serpent deity ranked high in the deistic hierarchy throughout the Indian civilizations, maintaining a po- sition held in many other theological concepts, including Christi- anity. Many early dances were performed in honor of the snake or his symbols. The legends of ceremonies for other gods, and diverse rituals dramatizing the ancient mythology in dance form serve to emphasize that dance-regardless of occasion or motive -was not just social recreation but a vital, living expression of the religion itself. While it is not possible here to examine or analyze at length the many dances reflecting the pre-Columbian era-no matter what the tribe or geographic location, from South America through the Antilles, to the Central American highlands and Mexico-dance and dance ceremony were so much a part varied greatly among the tribes, dance was often used both as a means of torture and of death. On occasion victors in battle re- quired captives to dance until final exhaustion and death put an end to their suffering. Among tribes in northern Mexico, it was customary to deprive the captives of their scalps before the victory dance. The tradition of "dancing to death" was rather wide- spread, and often the victims included the women and children of the unfortunate conquered people. As an added refinement, it was not unusual for the old people of the victorious tribe to torment the captives with flaming torches during the danse maca- bre. If these customs appear barbaric and primitive, they are no more so than the revolutionary dances held in France and Russia in which severed heads on pikes took the place of scalps. Dance is a physical release for emotional tensions, which has no limits in terms of human decency, gentleness, or kindness, and has been used from time immemorial as a purge of the soul. Dance can be joyous, savage, delicate or obscene, esthetic or evil, and can express in material form all the emotions, conflicts, hates, and loves of the human soul. South American Indians, as well as those of Mexico, incorpo- rated sun worship into their spiritual philosophy; many dances eulogized the sun god and, with sacrificial offerings, praised or propitiated him. The serpent deity ranked high in the deistic hierarchy throughout the Indian civilizations, maintaining a po- sition held in many other theological concepts, including Christi- anity. Many early dances were performed in honor of the snake or his symbols. The legends of ceremonies for other gods, and diverse rituals dramatizing the ancient mythology in dance form serve to emphasize that dance-regardless of occasion or motive -was not just social recreation but a vital, living expression of the religion itself. While it is not possible here to examine or analyze at length the many dances reflecting the pre-Columbian era-no matter what the tribe or geographic location, from South America through the Antilles, to the Central American highlands and Mexico-dance and dance ceremony were so much a part varied greatly among the tribes, dance was often used both as a means of torture and of death. On occasion victors in battle re- quired captives to dance until final exhaustion and death put an end to their suffering. Among tribes in northern Mexico, it was customary to deprive the captives of their scalps before the victory dance. The tradition of "dancing to death" was rather wide- spread, and often the victims included the women and children of the unfortunate conquered people. As an added refinement, it was not unusual for the old people of the victorious tribe to torment the captives with flaming torches during the danse maca- bre. If these customs appear barbaric and primitive, they are no more so than the revolutionary dances held in France and Russia in which severed heads on pikes took the place of scalps. Dance is a physical release for emotional tensions, which has no limits in terms of human decency, gentleness, or kindness, and has been used from time immemorial as a purge of the soul. Dance can be joyous, savage, delicate or obscene, osthetic or evil, and can express in material form all the emotions, conflicts, hates, and loves of the human soul. South American Indians, as well as those of Mexico, incorpo- rated sun worship into their spiritual philosophy; many dances eulogized the sun god and, with sacrificial offerings, praised or propitiated him. The serpent deity ranked high in the deistic hierarchy throughout the Indian civilizations, maintaining a po- sition held in many other theological concepts, including Christi- anity. Many early dances were performed in honor of the snake or his symbols. The legends of ceremonies for other gods, and diverse rituals dramatizing the ancient mythology in dance form serve to emphasize that dance-regardless of occasion or motive -was not just social recreation but a vital, living expression of the religion itself. While it is not possible here to examine or analyze at length the many dances reflecting the pre-Columbian era-no matter what the tribe or geographic location, from South America through the Antilles, to the Central American highlands and Mexico-dance and dance ceremony were so much a part  48 The Caribbean 48 The Caribbean 48 The Caribbean of the habit of the individual that their study provides important clues to the lives and temperaments, the customs and traditions of the indigenous peoples of the Western Hemisphere. In the islands of the Caribbean most of the early culture has disappeared almost entirely. We know very little of the activities of the pre-Columbian Indians as compared with the extensive in- formation pertaining to the cultures of the mainland Indians. We do know that the dances of the island Indians were called Areitos, that they were held as a part of the religion which was polytheistic in nature, that they were imitative of activities of daily life, that musical accompaniment was by voice or simple percussion instru- ments, and that in a simplified form the tradition had much in common with that of great Indian civilizations. This cultural field has received little attention, however, and the majority of the Indian dance ceremonies of the Caribbean islands is probably lost forever. Traces of the culture may be found among the Black Caribs of Honduras and the Carib Indian groups of the island of Dominica, although no studies have been made of the dances, either from a historical or modern point of view. The fast dwin- dling tribes of Arawaks and Caribs now living in the Guianas might also provide clues to an almost extinct culture. In Mexico, Guatemala, and Central America, as well as Venezuela and Colombia, however, it is still possible to observe almost pure patterns of Indian dance, although great care must be taken to separate the purely Indian forms from later, superimposed Span- ish dances. II Following the occupation of the areas of the New World, dance, as has been noted, proved an effective prelude to the frenzied Indian revolts and massacres which occurred during the early period of colonization. Spanish priests, whose first duty was to Christianize the heathens, found that even renounced pagan gods reasserted their influence during the dance ceremonials and festi- vals. The conquerors, as military men, tried many methods to of the habit of-the individual that their study provides important clues to the lives and temperaments, the customs and traditions of the indigenous peoples of the Western Hemisphere. In the islands of the Caribbean most of the early culture has disappeared almost entirely. We know very little of the activities of the pre-Columbian Indians as compared with the extensive in- formation pertaining to the cultures of the mainland Indians. We do know that the dances of the island Indians were called Areitos, that they were held as a part of the religion which was polytheistic in nature, that they were imitative of activities of daily life, that musical accompaniment was by voice or simple percussion instru- ments, and that in a simplified form the tradition had much in common with that of great Indian civilizations. This cultural field has received little attention, however, and the majority of the Indian dance ceremonies of the Caribbean islands is probably lost forever. Traces of the culture may be found among the Black Caribs of Honduras and the Carib Indian groups of the island of Dominica, although no studies have been made of the dances, either from a historical or modern point of view. The fast dwin- dling tribes of Arawaks and Caribs now living in the Guianas might also provide clues to an almost extinct culture. In Mexico, Guatemala, and Central America, as well as Venezuela and Colombia, however, it is still possible to observe almost pure patterns of Indian dance, although great care must be taken to separate the purely Indian forms from later, superimposed Span- ish dances. II Following the occupation of the areas of the New World, dance, as has been noted, proved an effective prelude to the frenzied Indian revolts and massacres which occurred during the early period of colonization. Spanish priests, whose first duty was to Christianize the heathens, found that even renounced pagan gods reasserted their influence during the dance ceremonials and festi- vals. The conquerors, as military men, tried many methods to of the habit of the individual that their study provides important clues to the lives and temperaments, the customs and traditions of the indigenous peoples of the Western Hemisphere. In the islands of the Caribbean most of the early culture has disappeared almost entirely. We know very little of the activities of the pre-Columbian Indians as compared with the extensive in- formation pertaining to the cultures of the mainland Indians. We do know that the dances of the island Indians were called Areitos, that they were held as a part of the religion which was polytheistic in nature, that they were imitative of activities of daily life, that musical accompaniment was by voice or simple percussion instru- ments, and that in a simplified form the tradition had much in common with that of great Indian civilizations. This cultural field has received little attention, however, and the majority of the Indian dance ceremonies of the Caribbean islands is probably lost forever. Traces of the culture may be found among the Black Caribs of Honduras and the Carib Indian groups of the island of Dominica, although no studies have been made of the dances, either from a historical or modern point of view. The fast dwin- dling tribes of Arawaks and Caribs now living in the Guianas might also provide clues to an almost extinct culture. In Mexico, Guatemala, and Central America, as well as Venezuela and Colombia, however, it is still possible to observe almost pure patterns of Indian dance, although great care must be taken to separate the purely Indian forms from later, superimposed Span- ish dances. II Following the occupation of the areas of the New World, dance, as has been noted, proved an effective prelude to the frenzied Indian revolts and massacres which occurred during the early period of colonization. Spanish priests, whose first duty was to Christianize the heathens, found that even renounced pagan gods reasserted their influence during the dance ceremonials and festi- vals. The conquerors, as military men, tried many methods to  MUSIC AND DRAMA 49 MUSIC AND DRAMA 49 MUSIC AND DRAMA 49 ban and eliminate the dance as the primary psychological stim- ulant to the violence and horror of Indian wars. The priests, however, realized that in all probability it would be nearly im- possible to erase from the souls of their converts so vital and basic an activity as dance. Consequently, with little change in content, the dance of the Indians was adopted or adapted into the ritual of the Catholic Church in the Western Hemisphere, where it still exists today. Even with the addition of Spanish forms, the indigenous dance remains, and Christian holidays and holy days were and still are marked by performances of dances previously devoted to pagan gods-but usually renamed for Catholic saints. The adaptation of non-Christian rites to fit into the dogma of the Catholic Church has had profound influence in the development of the entire cultural pattern of the Caribbean, and is a primary factor sepa- rating the social evolution of the Spanish-settled countries from that of lands colonized by British Anglicans and Dutch Protes- tants. The retention of dance as a significant form of expression in Latin America, as opposed to the virtual obliteration of re- ligious dance in the United States, must be credited to the im- portance given dance in Spanish tradition. The cultural tradition of Spanish dance found ready acceptance among the Indians, and the intricate rhythms and melodic har- monies fitted into the Indian concept of dance and its place in society. In the United States, on the other hand, dance was often banned by the strict Protestant religious sects which dominated the colonization of the area. The Indian dances were never ab- sorbed into the culture as was the case on the mainland settled by the Spaniards, where the policy of colonization involved the integration of the Indian races wherever possible, rather than their removal or extermination, as was the case in the United States. While this policy of Spanish conquest was true for the mainland countries, it was almost the reverse in the Caribbean islands, and, as has been pointed out, few traces remain of the ancient cultural patterns of the island Indians. ban and eliminate the dance as the primary psychological stim- ulant to the violence and horror of Indian wars. The priests, however, realized that in all probability it would be nearly im- possible to erase from the souls of their converts so vital and basic an activity as dance. Consequently, with little change in content, the dance of the Indians was adopted or adapted into the ritual of the Catholic Church in the Western Hemisphere, where it still exists today. Even with the addition of Spanish forms, the indigenous dance remains, and Christian holidays and holy days were and still are marked by performances of dances previously devoted to pagan gods-but usually renamed for Catholic saints. The adaptation of non-Christian rites to fit into the dogma of the Catholic Church has had profound influence in the development of the entire cultural pattern of the Caribbean, and is a primary factor sepa- rating the social evolution of the Spanish-settled countries from that of lands colonized by British Anglicans and Dutch Protes- tants. The retention of dance as a significant form of expression in Latin America, as opposed to the virtual obliteration of re- ligious dance in the United States, must be credited to the im- portance given dance in Spanish tradition. The cultural tradition of Spanish dance found ready acceptance among the Indians, and the intricate rhythms and melodic har- monies fitted into the Indian concept of dance and its place in society. In the United States, on the other hand, dance was often banned by the strict Protestant religious sects which dominated the colonization of the area. The Indian dances were never ab- sorbed into the culture as was the case on the mainland settled by the Spaniards, where the policy of colonization involved the integration of the Indian races wherever possible, rather than their removal or extermination, as was the case in the United States. While this policy of Spanish conquest was true for the mainland countries, it was almost the reverse in the Caribbean islands, and, as has been pointed out, few traces remain of the ancient cultural patterns of the island Indians. ban and eliminate the dance as the primary psychological stim- ulant to the violence and horror of Indian wars. The priests, however, realized that in all probability it would be nearly im- possible to erase from the souls of their converts so vital and basic an activity as dance. Consequently, with little change in content, the dance of the Indians was adopted or adapted into the ritual of the Catholic Church in the Western Hemisphere, where it still exists today. Even with the addition of Spanish forms, the indigenous dance remains, and Christian holidays and holy days were and still are marked by performances of dances previously devoted to pagan gods-but usually renamed for Catholic saints. The adaptation of non-Christian rites to fit into the dogma of the Catholic Church has had profound influence in the development of the entire cultural pattern of the Caribbean, and is a primary factor sepa- rating the social evolution of the Spanish-settled countries from that of lands colonized by British Anglicans and Dutch Protes- tants. The retention of dance as a significant form of expression in Latin America, as opposed to the virtual obliteration of re- ligious dance in the United States, must be credited to the im- portance given dance in Spanish tradition. The cultural tradition of Spanish dance found ready acceptance among the Indians, and the intricate rhythms and melodic har- monies fitted into the Indian concept of dance and its place in society. In the United States, on the other hand, dance was often banned by the strict Protestant religious sects which dominated the colonization of the area. The Indian dances were never ab- sorbed into the culture as was the case on the mainland settled by the Spaniards, where the policy of colonization involved the integration of the Indian races wherever possible, rather than their removal or extermination, as was the case in the United States. While this policy of Spanish conquest was true for the mainland countries, it was almost the reverse in the Caribbean islands, and, as has been pointed out, few traces remain of the ancient cultural patterns of the island Indians.  50 The Caribbean The Indians, being accustomed to the use of dance as a func- tion of daily living, were quick to appreciate many of the Spanish dance forms and simply incorporated them into their own dances. In this way, a new interpretation of folk dance was developed, which forms the basis of the popular dances of Mexico, Central America, and northern South America, where the population is so largely mestizo. The relationship of many of the dances to the folk arts of Spain is readily observed. For instance, many of the best known dances, such as the Jarabe Tapatio of Mexico, the Joropo of Venezuela, and the Seis of Puerto Rico, all contain forms of the fast footwork known as zapateos or zapateados, which involve a rapid tapping of heel and toe dependent upon the ability of the individual dancer. This style can be observed today in most of the Flamencan dances from Spain. Not only do the Caribbean countries use the zapateado, but the step is found in every country settled by the Spaniards. But this dance form is never found in the islands of the British, French, or Dutch West Indies, being confined solely to areas of Spanish colonization. One of the most interesting of the evolving dance forms which is very popular today in rural areas is the dance drama-partly religious and partly secular in character. It is within the structure of the dance drama that the heritage of the past can be clearly seen. Pagan and Christian religion, superstition and mythology, and the pageant of history and colonization, which produced a mixed race of people, are all parts of the themes of the dance dramas. In Mexico, the dance drama is usually performed as a part of a religious pilgrimage to a local shrine. While the worship and belief are outwardly Christian, an important place is given to the souls of the dead-momentarily using human bodies-that are accompanying the pilgrims. Those who make the pilgrimage without proper devotion run the risk of being transformed into scorpions, stones, or bundles of old bones, a concept rather far removed from Christian theology. The dances themselves show clearly the tremendous influence on the thought and folklore 50 The Caribbean 50 The Caribbean The Indians, being accustomed to the use of dance as a func- tion of daily living, were quick to appreciate many of the Spanish dance forms and simply incorporated them into their own dances. In this way, a new interpretation of folk dance was developed, which forms the basis of the popular dances of Mexico, Central America, and northern South America, where the population is so largely mestizo. The relationship of many of the dances to the folk arts of Spain is readily observed. For instance, many of the best known dances, such as the Jarabe Tapatio of Mexico, the Joropo of Venezuela, and the Seis of Puerto Rico, all contain forms of the fast footwork known as zapateos or zapateados, which involve a rapid tapping of heel and toe dependent upon the ability of the individual dancer. This style can be observed today in most of the Flamencan dances from Spain. Not only do the Caribbean countries use the zapateado, but the step is found in every country settled by the Spaniards. But this dance form is never found in the islands of the British, French, or Dutch West Indies, being confined solely to areas of Spanish colonization. One of the most interesting of the evolving dance forms which is very popular today in rural areas is the dance drama-partly religious and partly secular in character. It is within the structure of the dance drama that the heritage of the past can be clearly seen. Pagan and Christian religion, superstition and mythology, and the pageant of history and colonization, which produced a mixed race of people, are all parts of the themes of the dance dramas. In Mexico, the dance drama is usually performed as a part of a religious pilgrimage to a local shrine. While the worship and belief are outwardly Christian, an important place is given to the souls of the dead-momentarily using human bodies-that are accompanying the pilgrims. Those who make the pilgrimage without proper devotion run the risk of being transformed into scorpions, stones, or bundles of old bones, a concept rather far removed from Christian theology. The dances themselves show clearly the tremendous influence on the thought and folklore The Indians, being accustomed to the use of dance as a func- tion of daily living, were quick to appreciate many of the Spanish dance forms and simply incorporated them into their own dances. In this way, a new interpretation of folk dance was developed, which forms the basis of the popular dances of Mexico, Central America, and northern South America, where the population is so largely mestizo. The relationship of many of the dances to the folk arts of Spain is readily observed. For instance, many of the best known dances, such as the Jarabe Tapatio of Mexico, the Joropo of Venezuela, and the Seis of Puerto Rico, all contain forms of the fast footwork known as zapateos or zapateados, which involve a rapid tapping of heel and toe dependent upon the ability of the individual dancer. This style can be observed today in most of the Flamencan dances from Spain. Not only do the Caribbean countries use the zapateado, but the step is found in every country settled by the Spaniards. But this dance form is never found in the islands of the British, French, or Dutch West Indies, being confined solely to areas of Spanish colonization. One of the most interesting of the evolving dance forms which is very popular today in rural areas is the dance drama-partly religious and partly secular in character. It is within the structure of the dance drama that the heritage of the past can be clearly seen. Pagan and Christian religion, superstition and mythology, and the pageant of history and colonization, which produced a mixed race of people, are all parts of the themes of the dance dramas. In Mexico, the dance drama is usually performed as a part of a religious pilgrimage to a local shrine. While the worship and belief are outwardly Christian, an important place is given to the souls of the dead-momentarily using human bodies-that are accompanying the pilgrims. Those who make the pilgrimage without proper devotion run the risk of being transformed into scorpions, stones, or bundles of old bones, a concept rather far removed from Christian theology. The dances themselves show clearly the tremendous influence on the thought and folklore  MUSIC AND DRAMA 51 exerted by the Christianizing priests. The theme is usually one which follows the traditional struggle between the Moors and the Christians in Spain (Danzas de los Matamoros). The idea of the conversion of the recalcitrant Moors is the dominant theme throughout. It is very interesting to note that although the Christians try mightily to convert the Moors during the drama, they never succeed, and eventually are forced to kill all the Moors. The dancing is done between phrases of dialogue, and includes sword fighting, threatening gestures, and dance pan- tomime. The Moors always wear dark, heavy beards and dark glasses to distinguish them from the Christians who, being pure in heart, have no need for concealing disguises. Aside from the value of the Matamoros dances as folk forms, it is possible to gain considerable insight into the Indian and mestizo concept of Christian theology through the dialogue which accompanies the dance. Regional differences can transform the dance of the Matamoros into a deadly fight between Spaniards and Aztecs or between French and Mexicans, and thus into re-enactments of history. The change in title and participants does not affect the theme, however, which is always one of religious conversion. These dances are noteworthy for several reasons. They are performed in some form over nearly all of Mexico and in many parts of Central America. Although the dances are Indian in pattern, the steps used have been adopted from European styles, and include even the schottische and the waltz. Lastly, although the dances represent one of the methods of religious expression and the theme is one of conversion, in none of the dramas is the villain actually converted; killed, yes, but never converted. And to the Indians, the dance drama is not just a pageant but a belief.' Venezuelan folklore also makes extensive use of a type of dance drama, although the theme is usually more secular in nature and the dances are not necessarily performed during religious festivals. Frances Gillmor, Dance Dramas of Mexican Villages (Tucson, Ariz., 1943). MUSIC AND DRAMA 51 exerted by the Christianizing priests. The theme is usually one which follows the traditional struggle between the Moors and the Christians in Spain (Danzas de los Matamoros). The idea of the conversion of the recalcitrant Moors is the dominant theme throughout. It is very interesting to note that although the Christians try mightily to convert the Moors during the drama, they never succeed, and eventually are forced to kill all the Moors. The dancing is done between phrases of dialogue, and includes sword fighting, threatening gestures, and dance pan- tomime. The Moors always wear dark, heavy beards and dark glasses to distinguish them from the Christians who, being pure in heart, have no need for concealing disguises. Aside from the value of the Matamoros dances as folk forms, it is possible to gain considerable insight into the Indian and mestizo concept of Christian theology through the dialogue which accompanies the dance. Regional differences can transform the dance of the Matamoros into a deadly fight between Spaniards and Aztecs or between French and Mexicans, and thus into re-enactments of history. The change in title and participants does not affect the theme, however, which is always one of religious conversion. These dances are noteworthy for several reasons. They are performed in some form over nearly all of Mexico and in many parts of Central America. Although the dances are Indian in pattern, the steps used have been adopted from European styles, and include even the schottische and the waltz. Lastly, although the dances represent one of the methods of religious expression and the theme is one of conversion, in none of the dramas is the villain actually converted; killed, yes, but never converted. And to the Indians, the dance drama is not just a pageant but a belief.' Venezuelan folklore also makes extensive use of a type of dance drama, although the theme is usually more secular in nature and the dances are not necessarily performed during religious festivals. Frances Gillmor, Dance Dramas of Mexican Villages (Tucson, Ariz., 1943). MUSIC AND DRAMA 51 exerted by the Christianizing priests. The theme is usually one which follows the traditional struggle between the Moors and the Christians in Spain (Danzas de los Matamoros). The idea of the conversion of the recalcitrant Moors is the dominant theme throughout. It is very interesting to note that although the Christians try mightily to convert the Moors during the drama, they never succeed, and eventually are forced to kill all the Moors. The dancing is done between phrases of dialogue, and includes sword fighting, threatening gestures, and dance pan- tomime. The Moors always wear dark, heavy beards and dark glasses to distinguish them from the Christians who, being pure in heart, have no need for concealing disguises. Aside from the value of the Matamoros dances as folk forms, it is possible to gain considerable insight into the Indian and mestizo concept of Christian theology through the dialogue which accompanies the dance. Regional differences can transform the dance of the Matamoros into a deadly fight between Spaniards and Aztecs or between French and Mexicans, and thus into re-enactments of history. The change in title and participants does not affect the theme, however, which is always one of religious conversion. These dances are noteworthy for several reasons. They are performed in some form over nearly all of Mexico and in many parts of Central America. Although the dances are Indian in pattern, the steps used have been adopted from European styles, and include even the schottische and the waltz. Lastly, although the dances represent one of the methods of religious expression and the theme is one of conversion, in none of the dramas is the villain actually converted; killed, yes, but never converted. And to the Indians, the dance drama is not just a pageant but a belief.' Venezuelan folklore also makes extensive use of a type of dance drama, although the theme is usually more secular in nature and the dances are not necessarily performed during religious festivals. s Frances Gillmor, Dance Dramas of Mexican Villages (Tucson, Ariz., 1943).  52 The Caribbean The dances usually have two or three principal characters and a chorus. Words are sung rather than spoken, following the ancient Indian tradition. Many times the main characters are animals, as in the Pdjaro Guanandol or the Chiriguare, or they may be humans, wizards, or devils, depending upon the dance. Many of the Venezuelan dances have a pure Indian background, al- though at present the majority are mestizo. Through the efforts of the newly created Ministry of Folklore, many of the Venezuelan dances are being revived and others carefully described for their preservation and continued use. It is not possible here to mention or describe all the many folk- loric dances of Mexico, Central America, and northern South America; and because of the great variety in style, theme, step, and function of the dances, it is difficult to generalize, except to say that the basis of folk and ethnic dance of the mainland countries is a mixture of Spanish and Indian cultures and a blending of Christian and pagan religions. Dance remains today a part of life as it was in pre-Columbian days, with only the addition and incorporation of new elements, and it dramatizes in emphatic form the culture, superstitions, and beliefs of the people. Al- though we cannot observe Indian dances in the Caribbean islands, the disappearance of the indigenous people led to the introduction of the greatest racial and cultural influence of the entire world upon popular dance and music-African slaves; and the year I510 saw the introduction of the African into the Caribbean. III The African had many beliefs and customs in common with those of the Indians he replaced. Both had an age-old tradition of dance as an essential part of life; for both, dance was bound to the ritual of religion; like the Indian, the African had a poly- theistic belief that included the worship of the sun god and a serpent deity. Both groups depended upon drums and rattles as percussion instruments for their music, with voices carrying the melodic strains. Many of the concepts of life and especially the 52 The Caribbean 52 The Caribbean The dances usually have two or three principal characters and a chorus. Words are sung rather than spoken, following the ancient Indian tradition. Many times the main characters are animals, as in the Pdjaro Guananddl or the Chiriguare, or they may be humans, wizards, or devils, depending upon the dance. Many of the Venezuelan dances have a pure Indian background, al- though at present the majority are mestizo. Through the efforts of the newly created Ministry of Folklore, many of the Venezuelan dances are being revived and others carefully described for their preservation and continued use. It is not possible here to mention or describe all the many folk- lorie dances of Mexico, Central America, and northern South America; and because of the great variety in style, theme, step, and function of the dances, it is difficult to generalize, except to say that the basis of folk and ethnic dance of the mainland countries is a mixture of Spanish and Indian cultures and a blending of Christian and pagan religions. Dance remains today a part of life as it was in pre-Columbian days, with only the addition and incorporation of new elements, and it dramatizes in emphatic form the culture, superstitions, and beliefs of the people. Al- though we cannot observe Indian dances in the Caribbean islands, the disappearance of the indigenous people led to the introduction of the greatest racial and cultural influence of the entire world upon popular dance and music-African slaves; and the year 1510 saw the introduction of the African into the Caribbean. III The African had many beliefs and customs in common with those of the Indians he replaced. Both had an age-old tradition of dance as an essential part of life; for both, dance was bound to the ritual of religion; like the Indian, the African had a poly- theistic belief that included the worship of the sun god and a serpent deity. Both groups depended upon drums and rattles as percussion instruments for their music, with voices carrying the melodic strains. Many of the concepts of life and especially the The dances usually have two or three principal characters and a chorus. Words are sung rather than spoken, following the ancient Indian tradition. Many times the main characters are animals, as in the Pdjaro Guananddl or the Chiriguare, or they may be humans, wizards, or devils, depending upon the dance. Many of the Venezuelan dances have a pure Indian background, al- though at present the majority are mestizo. Through the efforts of the newly created Ministry of Folklore, many of the Venezuelan dances are being revived and others carefully described for their preservation and continued use. It is not possible here to mention or describe all the many folk- loric dances of Mexico, Central America, and northern South America; and because of the great variety in style, theme, step, and function of the dances, it is difficult to generalize, except to say that the basis of folk and ethnic dance of the mainland countries is a mixture of Spanish and Indian cultures and a blending of Christian and pagan religions. Dance remains today a part of life as it was in pre-Columbian days, with only the addition and incorporation of new elements, and it dramatizes in emphatic form the culture, superstitions, and beliefs of the people. Al- though we cannot observe Indian dances in the Caribbean islands, the disappearance of the indigenous people led to the introduction of the greatest racial and cultural influence of the entire world upon popular dance and music-African slaves; and the year 1510 saw the introduction of the African into the Caribbean. III The African had many beliefs and customs in common with those of the Indians he replaced. Both had an age-old tradition of dance as an essential part of life; for both, dance was bound to the ritual of religion; like the Indian, the African had a poly- theistic belief that included the worship of the sun god and a serpent deity. Both groups depended upon drums and rattles as percussion instruments for their music, with voices carrying the melodic strains. Many of the concepts of life and especially the  MUSIC AND DRAMA 53 MUSIC AND DRAMA 53 MUSIC AND DRAMA significance of death, including the relations of the dead with the living, were strikingly similar. Although at the present time it is tempting to think of the folk culture of the West Indies as of African origin, it is well within the realm of possibility that In- dians who had fled to the mountain areas of Haiti, Cuba, and Jamaica had a least some cultural contact with escaped African slaves, and that the Indians left an indelible mark on the culture. In Haiti today, for example, certain features of ritual and ethnic dance are difficult to explain without considering the possible in- fluence of the Indians.' African slaves were rarely sold or placed according to tribal, family, or language groups. They arrived at their ultimate desti- nations as mixed units-peoples who had little in common with each other, except their rhythms, drums, and the universal ele- ments of African religion expressed in their dances. The earliest accounts of West Indian life nearly always mention the dancing and drumming of the plantation slaves. At first it was not recog- nized by European slave owners that these activities represented the cohesive elements which spiritually bound the slaves together to provide a momentary escape from frustration and bitterness in their own lives-and so they irrevocably bound them to Africa. Although the islands weere slave markets dependent economi- cally upon slave labor, the attitudes of the various colonizing governments toward the slave differed to such an extent that the ethnic dance of the Spanish-speaking countries evolved in a quite different manner from that of the colonies settled by England, Holland, and France. The policy of the Spaniards, often both cruel and oppressive, did at least leave the African his identity as a person. Probably the position of the Catholic Church, whose priests felt it their responsibility to Christianize the African slaves as they had the Indians, resulted in the relatively easy transition from the status of slave to free man. ' A great deal of evidence to support the theory of Indian influence upon Haitian dance is given by Maya Deren, Divine Horsemen, the Living Gods of Haiti, pp. 271-286. Other anthropologists dispute this theory, giving an African interpretation to the Petro ceremonies. significance of death, including the relations of the dead with the living, were strikingly similar. Although at the present time it is tempting to think of the folk culture of the West Indies as of African origin, it is well within the realm of possibility that In- dians who had fled to the mountain areas of Haiti, Cuba, and Jamaica had a least some cultural contact with escaped African slaves, and that the Indians left an indelible mark on the culture. In Haiti today, for example, certain features of ritual and ethnic dance are difficult to explain without considering the possible in- fluence of the Indians.' African slaves were rarely sold or placed according to tribal, family, or language groups. They arrived at their ultimate desti- nations as mixed units-peoples who had little in common with each other, except their rhythms, drums, and the universal ele- ments of African religion expressed in their dances. The earliest accounts of West Indian life nearly always mention the dancing and drumming of the plantation slaves. At first it was not recog- nized by European slave owners that these activities represented the cohesive elements which spiritually bound the slaves together to provide a momentary escape from frustration and bitterness in their own lives-and so they irrevocably bound them to Africa. Although the islands weere slave markets dependent economi- cally upon slave labor, the attitudes of the various colonizing governments toward the slave differed to such an extent that the ethnic dance of the Spanish-speaking countries evolved in a quite different manner from that of the colonies settled by England, Holland, and France. The policy of the Spaniards, often both cruel and oppressive, did at least leave the African his identity as a person. Probably the position of the Catholic Church, whose priests felt it their responsibility to Christianize the African slaves as they had the Indians, resulted in the relatively easy transition from the status of slave to free man. * A great deal of evidence to support the theory of Indian influence upon Haitian dance is given by Maya Deren, Divine Horsemen, the Living Gods of Haiti, pp. 271-286. Other anthropologists dispute this theory, giving an African interpretation to the Petro ceremonies. significance of death, including the relations of the dead with the living, were strikingly similar. Although at the present time it is tempting to think of the folk culture of the West Indies as of African origin, it is well within the realm of possibility that In- dians who had fled to the mountain areas of Haiti, Cuba, and Jamaica had a least some cultural contact with escaped African slaves, and that the Indians left an indelible mark on the culture. In Haiti today, for example, certain features of ritual and ethnic dance are difficult to explain without considering the possible in- fluence of the Indians.' African slaves were rarely sold or placed according to tribal, family, or language groups. They arrived at their ultimate desti- nations as mixed units-peoples who had little in common with each other, except their rhythms, drums, and the universal ele- ments of African religion expressed in their dances. The earliest accounts of West Indian life nearly always mention the dancing and drumming of the plantation slaves. At first it was not recog- nized by European slave owners that these activities represented the cohesive elements which spiritually bound the slaves together to provide a momentary escape from frustration and bitterness in their own lives-and so they irrevocably bound them to Africa. Although the islands were slave markets dependent economi- cally upon slave labor, the attitudes of the various colonizing governments toward the slave differed to such an extent that the ethnic dance of the Spanish-speaking countries evolved in a quite different manner from that of the colonies settled by England, Holland, and France. The policy of the Spaniards, often both cruel and oppressive, did at least leave the African his identity as a person. Probably the position of the Catholic Church, whose priests felt it their responsibility to Christianize the African slaves as they had the Indians, resulted in the relatively easy transition from the status of slave to free man. ' A great deal of evidence to support the theory of Indian influence upon Haitian dance is given by Maya Deren, Divine Horsemen, the Living Gods of Haiti, pp. 271-286. Other anthropologists dispute this theory, giving an African interpretation to the Petro ceremonies.  54 The Caribbean In any case, the slave was not considered as simply an ex- pendable chattel in the islands of Spanish domination, nor were limits put upon his future or the future of his children because of his personal position as a former slave. On the contrary, in the British, Dutch, and to some extent the French colonies, not only did the Protestant churches refuse to baptize or convert slaves, but some denied the existence of a soul in a slave. Although records of slavery reach back to the earliest history of man and include nearly all races, in the British West Indies the word "slave" became synonymous with Africa. Even as a freed man, the rights of the former slave were sharply curtailed and his place in society rigidly controlled. While the Spanish considered the fact of slavery as an unfortunate incident in the life of the in- dividual, the British considered it to be the rightful destiny of the black. These almost opposite views have determined and moulded the whole course of West Indian folklore, including dance and music.' The Spaniards brought their own songs and dances to Cuba, the Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico. As has been noted, dance played a far more important part in the life of the Span- iard than was the case in northern European countries; and the African, like the Indian, was quick to adapt the Spanish forms to his own rhythm structures brought from Africa. The marriage of Spanish and African dance has proved to be one of the most fruitful and successful of unions. Both forms combined to give birth to the music known as Latin American, heard now in nearly every country of the world. While it may be unwise to assign arbitrarily a racial stereotype, almost without exception the African has shown a physical reaction to rhythm and music, which is not found to a comparable extent in other races. Frank Tannenbaum, Slave and Citizen (New York, 1947). 54 The Caribbean 54 The Caribbean In any case, the slave was not considered as simply an ex- pendable chattel in the islands of Spanish domination, nor were limits put upon his future or the future of his children because of his personal position as a former slave. On the contrary, in the British, Dutch, and to some extent the French colonies, not only did the Protestant churches refuse to baptize or convert slaves, but some denied the existence of a soul in a slave. Although records of slavery reach back to the earliest history of man and include nearly all races, in the British West Indies the word "slave" became synonymous with Africa. Even as a freed man, the rights of the former slave were sharply curtailed and his place in society rigidly controlled. While the Spanish considered the fact of slavery as an unfortunate incident in the life of the in- dividual, the British considered it to be the rightful destiny of the black. These almost opposite views have determined and moulded the whole course of West Indian folklore, including dance and music.' The Spaniards brought their own songs and dances to Cuba, the Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico. As has been noted, dance played a far more important part in the life of the Span- iard than was the case in northern European countries; and the African, like the Indian, was quick to adapt the Spanish forms to his own rhythm structures brought from Africa. The marriage of Spanish and African dance has proved to be one of the most fruitful and successful of unions. Both forms combined to give birth to the music known as Latin American, heard now in nearly every country of the world. While it may be unwise to assign arbitrarily a racial stereotype, almost without exception the African has shown a physical reaction to rhythm and music, which is not found to a comparable extent in other races. Frank Tannenbaum, Slave and Citizen (New York, 1947). In any case, the slave was not considered as simply an ex- pendable chattel in the islands of Spanish domination, nor were limits put upon his future or the future of his children because of his personal position as a former slave. On the contrary, in the British, Dutch, and to some extent the French colonies, not only did the Protestant churches refuse to baptize or convert slaves, but some denied the existence of a soul in a slave. Although records of slavery reach back to the earliest history of man and include nearly all races, in the British West Indies the word "slave" became synonymous with Africa. Even as a freed man, the rights of the former slave were sharply curtailed and his place in society rigidly controlled. While the Spanish considered the fact of slavery as an unfortunate incident in the life of the in- dividual, the British considered it to be the rightful destiny of the black. These almost opposite views have determined and moulded the whole course of West Indian folklore, including dance and music.' The Spaniards brought their own songs and dances to Cuba, the Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico. As has been noted, dance played a far more important part in the life of the Span- iard than was the case in northern European countries; and the African, like the Indian, was quick to adapt the Spanish forms to his own rhythm structures brought from Africa. The marriage of Spanish and African dance has proved to be one of the most fruitful and successful of unions. Both forms combined to give birth to the music known as Latin American, heard now in nearly every country of the world. While it may be unwise to assign arbitrarily a racial stereotype, almost without exception the African has shown a physical reaction to rhythm and music, which is not found to a comparable extent in other races. Frank Tannenbaum, Slave and Citizen (New York, 1947).  MUSIC AND DRAMA 55 MUSIC AND DRAMA 55 MUSIC AND DRAMA 55 IV It is almost unnecessary to remark on some of the more popular Cuban dance forms, for they have become international favorites. Cuba has contributed the Rhumba, the Conga, the Guaracha, Bolero, and the latest offspring of this family, the Mambo. Al- though these are generally considered to be modern ballroom dances, it is not necessary to go far out of Havana to see the even more interesting folk forms of these same rhythms. Basically, all these dances have come about through the use of Spanish melody superimposed upon African rhythms. Percussion in- struments are by far the most important in a Cuban orchestra, and it is only to cater to North American tastes that pianos, trumpets, and trombones have been added to the tambors, ma- racas, giiiros, and claves. Although many people are still in the process of learning the Rhumba, the dance itself is over three hundred years old. Until fairly recently, it remained hidden in rural Cuba, danced by the Negroes and mulattoes of the sugar plantations, while Cuban so- ciety sedately paced the measures of the Habanera. Even in Havana today, the real Rhumba is confined to purely exhibition dancing. What is considered to be rhumba music in the United States and Europe is more often the rhythm of the slow and melancholy Bolero or the Son, much-diluted cousins of the Rhum- ba. The dance originated as a part of the marriage ceremony sym- bolized by a cock and a hen. The long ruffled train which has become an integral part of the Rhumba costume, represents the tail feathers of the hen, while the man's ruffled shirt is symbolic of the hackle feathers of the cock. Many of the seemingly erotic movements of the rural dance-which have proved so intriguing to tourists-are simply following further the barnyard theme, and, in dance form, illustrate tasks around the barn. Even the famous "shoeing the mare" figure comes from this background. The basic difference in the dance as performed in Cuba and as taught by dance teachers in the United States is in the move- IV It is almost unnecessary to remark on some of the more popular Cuban dance forms, for they have become international favorites. Cuba has contributed the Rhumba, the Conga, the Guaracha, Bolero, and the latest offspring of this family, the Mambo. Al- though these are generally considered to be modern ballroom dances, it is not necessary to go far out of Havana to see the even more interesting folk forms of these same rhythms. Basically, all these dances have come about through the use of Spanish melody superimposed upon African rhythms. Percussion in- struments are by far the most important in a Cuban orchestra, and it is only to cater to North American tastes that pianos, trumpets, and trombones have been added to the tambors, ma- racas, giiiros, and claves. Although many people are still in the process of learning the Rhumba, the dance itself is over three hundred years old. Until fairly recently, it remained hidden in rural Cuba, danced by the Negroes and mulattoes of the sugar plantations, while Cuban so- ciety sedately paced the measures of the Habanera. Even in Havana today, the real Rhumba is confined to purely exhibition dancing. What is considered to be rhumba music in the United States and Europe is more often the rhythm of the slow and melancholy Bolero or the Son, much-diluted cousins of the Rhum- ba. The dance originated as a part of the marriage ceremony sym- bolized by a cock and a hen. The long ruffled train which has become an integral part of the Rhumba costume, represents the tail feathers of the hen, while the man's ruffled shirt is symbolic of the hackle feathers of the cock. Many of the seemingly erotic movements of the rural dance-which have proved so intriguing to tourists-are simply following further the barnyard theme, and, in dance form, illustrate tasks around the barn. Even the famous "shoeing the mare" figure comes from this background. The basic difference in the dance as performed in Cuba and as taught by dance teachers in the United States is in the move- IV It is almost unnecessary to remark on some of the more popular Cuban dance forms, for they have become international favorites. Cuba has contributed the Rhumba, the Conga, the Guaracha, Bolero, and the latest offspring of this family, the Mambo. Al- though these are generally considered to be modern ballroom dances, it is not necessary to go far out of Havana to see the even more interesting folk forms of these same rhythms. Basically, all these dances have come about through the use of Spanish melody superimposed upon African rhythms. Percussion in- struments are by far the most important in a Cuban orchestra, and it is only to cater to North American tastes that pianos, trumpets, and trombones have been added to the tambors, ma- racas, giiiros, and cloves. Although many people are still in the process of learning the Rhumba, the dance itself is over three hundred years old. Until fairly recently, it remained hidden in rural Cuba, danced by the Negroes and mulattoes of the sugar plantations, while Cuban so- ciety sedately paced the measures of the Habanera. Even in Havana today, the real Rhumba is confined to purely exhibition dancing. What is considered to be rhumba music in the United States and Europe is more often the rhythm of the slow and melancholy Bolero or the Son, much-diluted cousins of the Rhum- ba. The dance originated as a part of the marriage ceremony sym- bolized by a cock and a hen. The long ruffled train which has become an integral part of the Rhumba costume, represents the tail feathers of the hen, while the man's ruffled shirt is symbolic of the hackle feathers of the cock. Many of the seemingly erotic movements of the rural dance-which have proved so intriguing to tourists-are simply following further the barnyard theme, and, in dance form, illustrate tasks around the barn. Even the famous "shoeing the mare" figure comes from this background. The basic difference in the dance as performed in Cuba and as taught by dance teachers in the United States is in the move-  56 The Caribbean ment of the body. Body movement to the Cuban is not taught. You cannot learn to dance with the music-you move because of the music, because of the irresistible compelling quality of the rhythm. Foreigners are likely to observe only the sensational, sensual qualities of the dance, without realizing the ecstasy of complete uninhibited abandon experienced by the dancers- which may continue to complete exhaustion. The dance becomes an emotional experience and not just a social function. It is no longer a means to an end, but the end itself. Dance in Cuba is not confined to the better-known ballroom forms. In many parts of the island, dances nearly pure African are still part of local custom and religion. Although "Christian- ized," the slaves retained their ritual religious dances, which had been part of their pagan African heritage. In many sections of the isolated regions of Cuba, the Naningo drums beat through the night while dancers express through the sinuous, violent move- ment of their bodies their heritage from the Congo or the Gold Coast. For the new race of Cubans whose Spanish blood is generously mixed with that of Africa, neither the ritual religious dances of the pure African nor the highly stylized and formal Spanish dance of society were satisfactory; we now have a whole group of dances known as Afro-Cuban. These rhythms have been the inspiration for composers and dancers and have had tremendous impact upon modern musical and dance interpretation." It is to be expected that in all of the Spanish-speaking coun- tries, Spanish dance and music enjoys great popularity, because the music and dance of Spain, despite the long struggle for in- dependence, is still the music and dance of the "homeland." To many people whose attachment for Spanish music is not wholly sentimental, the newer rhythms and dance, bearing as they do the trademark of Africa, are not acceptable, despite their vastly A complete and exhaustive study of the African influence upon the music and dance of Cuba, with particular emphasis upon the various ritual dances, may be found in two volumes by Fernando Ortiz. 56 The Caribbean 56 The Caribbean ment of the body. Body movement to the Cuban is not taught. You cannot learn to dance with the music-you move because of the music, because of the irresistible compelling quality of the rhythm. Foreigners are likely to observe only the sensational, sensual qualities of the dance, without realizing the ecstasy of complete uninhibited abandon experienced by the dancers- which may continue to complete exhaustion. The dance becomes an emotional experience and not just a social function. It is no longer a means to an end, but the end itself. Dance in Cuba is not confined to the better-known ballroom forms. In many parts of the island, dances nearly pure African are still part of local custom and religion. Although "Christian- ized," the slaves retained their ritual religious dances, which had been part of their pagan African heritage. In many sections of the isolated regions of Cuba, the Naningo drums beat through the night while dancers express through the sinuous, violent move- ment of their bodies their heritage from the Congo or the Gold Coast. For the new race of Cubans whose Spanish blood is generously mixed with that of Africa, neither the ritual religious dances of the pure African nor the highly stylized and formal Spanish dance of society were satisfactory; we now have a whole group of dances known as Afro-Cuban. These rhythms have been the inspiration for composers and dancers and have had tremendous impact upon modern musical and dance interpretations. It is to be expected that in all of the Spanish-speaking coun- tries, Spanish dance and music enjoys great popularity, because the music and dance of Spain, despite the long struggle for in- dependence, is still the music and dance of the "homeland." To many people whose attachment for Spanish music is not wholly sentimental, the newer rhythms and dance, bearing as they do the trademark of Africa, are not acceptable, despite their vastly A complete and exhaustive study of the African influence upon the music and dance of Cuba, with particular emphasis upon the various ritual dances, may be found in two volumes by Fernando Ortiz. ment of the body. Body movement to the Cuban is not taught. You cannot learn to dance with the music-you move because of the music, because of the irresistible compelling quality of the rhythm. Foreigners are likely to observe only the sensational, sensual qualities of the dance, without realizing the ecstasy of complete uninhibited abandon experienced by the dancers- which may continue to complete exhaustion. The dance becomes an emotional experience and not just a social function. It is no longer a means to an end, but the end itself. Dance in Cuba is not confined to the better-known ballroom forms. In many parts of the island, dances nearly pure African are still part of local custom and religion. Although "Christian- ized," the slaves retained their ritual religious dances, which had been part of their pagan African heritage. In many sections of the isolated regions of Cuba, the Naningo drums beat through the night while dancers express through the sinuous, violent move- ment of their bodies their heritage from the Congo or the Gold Coast. For the new race of Cubans whose Spanish blood is generously mixed with that of Africa, neither the ritual religious dances of the pure African nor the highly stylized and formal Spanish dance of society were satisfactory; we now have a whole group of dances known as Afro-Cuban. These rhythms have been the inspiration for composers and dancers and have had tremendous impact upon modern musical and dance interpretation. It is to be expected that in all of the Spanish-speaking coun- tries, Spanish dance and music enjoys great popularity, because the music and dance of Spain, despite the long struggle for in- dependence, is still the music and dance of the "homeland." To many people whose attachment for Spanish music is not wholly sentimental, the newer rhythms and dance, bearing as they do the trademark of Africa, are not acceptable, despite their vastly " A completc and exhaustive study of the African influence upon the music and dance of Cuba, with particular emphasis upon the various ritual dances, may be found in two volumes by Fernando Ortiz.  MUSIC AND DRAMA 57 MUSIC AND DRAMA 57 MUSIC AND DRAMA underrated contribution and significance. This group claims Spanish music as "their own" and relegates African-inspired rhythm to a socially undesirable classification. But although ap- preciated and admired with nostalgia, Spanish dance falls far short as an expression of the mood and temperament of the modern Cuban. V Puerto Rico, although racially and culturally very similar to Cuba, has produced a different sort of folk music and dance. Because of legislation which forbade the introduction of slaves into the interior of the island, little, if any, African heritage or influence can be found in the dances known as Seis or the songs called Decimas. The colonists from Spain, who settled the isolat- ed mountain areas of the island, retained the rhythms of Spain as a part of their memories of their homeland. Musical instru- ments, crude and homemade, were in imitation of Spanish guitars and mandolins. Songs were sung in the traditional falsettos, using a complicated meter now archaic in Spain. The Seis was originally a dance for six couples, which was widely popular in colonial days. It has endured over the centuries and, today, is the dance and music most expressive of the Jibaros of the mountains. The dance soon lost the six-couple arrange- ment, but continued as a dance for couples. Although undergoing changes, the Seis is still expressive of the Puerto Rican in a way no other dance can be. At one time, the Seis was so popular that nearly every town in the island had its own particular variation of the dance-and local and regional musical titles still persist. The names given to the dance are also descriptive of its mood. For instance, there is a form of Seis known as Seis Amarao (Seis for Lovers). If by chance a lovers' quarrel should occur, then the Seis Enojao (Angry Seis) would be suitable. A very popular form is the Seis Zapateao. The steps require heavy beats and staccato accents produced by the rapid interchange of heel and toe. These steps are never found among the African and Negro dances, underrated contribution and significance. This group claims Spanish music as "their own" and relegates African-inspired rhythm to a socially undesirable classification. But although ap- preciated and admired with nostalgia, Spanish dance falls far short as an expression of the mood and temperament of the modern Cuban. V Puerto Rico, although racially and culturally very similar to Cuba, has produced a different sort of folk music and dance. Because of legislation which forbade the introduction of slaves into the interior of the island, little, if any, African heritage or influence can be found in the dances known as Seis or the songs called Dicimas. The colonists from Spain, who settled the isolat- ed mountain areas of the island, retained the rhythms of Spain as a part of their memories of their homeland. Musical instru- ments, crude and homemade, were in imitation of Spanish guitars and mandolins. Songs were sung in the traditional falsettos, using a complicated meter now archaic in Spain. The Seis was originally a dance for six couples, which was widely popular in colonial days. It has endured over the centuries and, today, is the dance and music most expressive of the Jibaros of the mountains. The dance soon lost the six-couple arrange- ment, but continued as a dance for couples. Although undergoing changes, the Seis is still expressive of the Puerto Rican in a way no other dance can be. At one time, the Seis was so popular that nearly every town in the island had its own particular variation of the dance-and local and regional musical titles still persist. The names given to the dance are also descriptive of its mood. For instance, there is a form of Seis known as Seis Amarao (Seis for Lovers). If by chance a lovers' quarrel should occur, then the Seis Enojao (Angry Seis) would be suitable. A very popular form is the Seis Zapateao. The steps require heavy beats and staccato accents produced by the rapid interchange of heel and toe. These steps are never found among the African and Negro dances, underrated contribution and significance. This group claims Spanish music as "their own" and relegates African-inspired rhythm to a socially undesirable classification. But although ap- preciated and admired with nostalgia, Spanish dance falls far short as an expression of the mood and temperament of the modern Cuban. V Puerto Rico, although racially and culturally very similar to Cuba, has produced a different sort of folk music and dance. Because of legislation which forbade the introduction of slaves into the interior of the island, little, if any, African heritage or influence can be found in the dances known as Seis or the songs called Dicimas. The colonists from Spain, who settled the isolat- ed mountain areas of the island, retained the rhythms of Spain as a part of their memories of their homeland. Musical instru- ments, crude and homemade, were in imitation of Spanish guitars and mandolins. Songs were sung in the traditional falsettos, using a complicated meter now archaic in Spain. The Seis was originally a dance for six couples, which was widely popular in colonial days. It has endured over the centuries and, today, is the dance and music most expressive of the Jibaros of the mountains. The dance soon lost the six-couple arrange- ment, but continued as a dance for couples. Although undergoing changes, the Seis is still expressive of the Puerto Rican in a way no other dance can be. At one time, the Seis was so popular that nearly every town in the island had its own particular variation of the dance-and local and regional musical titles still persist. The names given to the dance are also descriptive of its mood. For instance, there is a form of Seis known as Seis Amarao (Seis for Lovers). If by chance a lovers' quarrel should occur, then the Seis Enojao (Angry Seis) would be suitable. A very popular form is the Seis Zapateao. The steps require heavy beats and staccato accents produced by the rapid interchange of heel and toe. These steps are never found among the African and Negro dances,  58 The Caribbean mostly because to be effective they must be danced on a wooden floor or other hard surface-a rare object in either African or former slave dwellings. The Seis is a lively, bouncy dance- always gay, with rarely a serious overtone. Today, in Puerto Rico, although the music is often heard, it is becoming more and more rare to see groups dancing the Seis Bombeao, with its rec- itative verses or the stamping of the ground with the Seis Chor- reao. If an effort is made, however, groups of older people can be found who dance the Seis in the style of their grandparents- and bring back momentarily a phase of Puerto Rican folklore that is rapidly disappearing under the impact of a superimposed culture from the United States and a lack of interest by Puerto Ricans. Along the beaches of the northern coast of Puerto Rico and beside the thatched-roof huts, the reverberations of the Bomba drums may still be heard. If we may say that the Seis is pure Spanish in content, then the Bomba must be termed pure African. And as dance forms, these two have nothing in common. Even in Puerto Rico, the Bomba is becoming a relatively unknown form, although the dance is one of the most distinctive and in- tricate in step pattern brought from Africa. Mention is made by several writers of the Bomba dances in Haiti, but it is not com- mon there and can be observed much better in Puerto Rico, where it is no longer associated with religious ritual. The dance is unique in that it violates the usual custom of the dancer being directed and controlled by the drums. In Bomba, the dancers face the drums and call for the breaks known as bombas. Puerto Rico, unlike Cuba but much like the Dominican Republic, prefers to consign the African dances to complete obscurity and, indeed, many Puerto Ricans claim that the Bomba no longer exists- or, that if it does, it is not worthy of note. From the standpoint of dance technique and historical interest, the Bomba is one of the most fascinating dances of the Caribbean, although it is en- tirely probable that within a very short time the Bomba will be 58 The Caribbean 58 The Caribbean mostly because to be effective they must be danced on a wooden floor or other hard surface-a rare object in either African or former slave dwellings. The Seis is a lively, bouncy dance- always gay, with rarely a serious overtone. Today, in Puerto Rico, although the music is often heard, it is becoming more and more rare to see groups dancing the Seis Bombeao, with its rec- itative verses or the stamping of the ground with the Seis Chor- reao. If an effort is made, however, groups of older people can be found who dance the Seis in the style of their grandparents- and bring back momentarily a phase of Puerto Rican folklore that is rapidly disappearing under the impact of a superimposed culture from the United States and a lack of interest by Puerto Ricans. Along the beaches of the northern coast of Puerto Rico and beside the thatched-roof huts, the reverberations of the Bomba drums may still be heard. If we may say that the Seis is pure Spanish in content, then the Bomba must be termed pure African. And as dance forms, these two have nothing in common. Even in Puerto Rico, the Bomba is becoming a relatively unknown form, although the dance is one of the most distinctive and in- tricate in step pattern brought from Africa. Mention is made by several writers of the Bomba dances in Haiti, but it is not com- mon there and can be observed much better in Puerto Rico, where it is no longer associated with religious ritual. The dance is unique in that it violates the usual custom of the dancer being directed and controlled by the drums. In Bomba, the dancers face the drums and call for the breaks known as bombas. Puerto Rico, unlike Cuba but much like the Dominican Republic, prefers to consign the African dances to complete obscurity and, indeed, many Puerto Ricans claim that the Bomba no longer exists- or, that if it does, it is not worthy of note. From the standpoint of dance technique and historical interest, the Bomba is one of the most fascinating dances of the Caribbean, although it is en- tirely probable that within a very short time the Bomba will be mostly because to be effective they must be danced on a wooden floor or other hard surface-a rare object in either African or former slave dwellings. The Seis is a lively, bouncy dance- always gay, with rarely a serious overtone. Today, in Puerto Rico, although the music is often heard, it is becoming more and more rare to see groups dancing the Seis Bombeao, with its rec- itative verses or the stamping of the ground with the Seis Chor- reao. If an effort is made, however, groups of older people can be found who dance the Seis in the style of their grandparents- and bring back momentarily a phase of Puerto Rican folklore that is rapidly disappearing under the impact of a superimposed culture from the United States and a lack of interest by Puerto Ricans. Along the beaches of the northern coast of Puerto Rico and beside the thatched-roof huts, the reverberations of the Bomba drums may still be heard. If we may say that the Seis is pure Spanish in content, then the Bomba must be termed pure African. And as dance forms, these two have nothing in common. Even in Puerto Rico, the Bomba is becoming a relatively unknown form, although the dance is one of the most distinctive and in- tricate in step pattern brought from Africa. Mention is made by several writers of the Bomba dances in Haiti, but it is not com- mon there and can be observed much better in Puerto Rico, where it is no longer associated with religious ritual. The dance is unique in that it violates the usual custom of the dancer being directed and controlled by the drums. In Bomba, the dancers face the drums and call for the breaks known as bombas. Puerto Rico, unlike Cuba but much like the Dominican Republic, prefers to consign the African dances to complete obscurity and, indeed, many Puerto Ricans claim that the Bomba no longer exists- or, that if it does, it is not worthy of note. From the standpoint of dance technique and historical interest, the Bomba is one of the most fascinating dances of the Caribbean, although it is en- tirely probable that within a very short time the Bomba will be  MUSIC AND DRAMA 59 lost, for Puerto Rico places little importance upon any of her African heritage. The only dance which developed in Puerto Rico as a result of a Spanish and African mixture is the Plena, a relatively new rhythm (1911) which adequately expresses the mixed race and background of the Puerto Rican. The Plena discarded the roman- tic idealism of the nineteenth century for a humorous, realistic attitude reflected in both the words of its songs and the motions of the dance. In the Spanish-speaking countries of the Caribbean-Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, and Venezuela-where the slave trade flourished, the wakes for the dead, known various- ly as baquinis or velorios, dramatize the union of ancient myths with the tradition and dogma of the Catholic Church. Whereas in Venezuela it is possible to name and describe dances dealing with the death and burial ceremonies, the baquini in Puerto Rico and Santo Domingo is already close to oblivion because of its African background and because of the legends of revelry and debauchery which have accompanied the wakes for the dead child. But underlying the celebration of the baquini, which outwardly is callous and unfeeling, is the consoling philosophy which cele- brates not the death of a child, but his admittance into heaven and his escape from the poverty and ills of this world. Without commenting on the moral values of the custom, even though it seems inadvisable to make judgments using our own standards as criteria, it can be said that the baquini and velorio both are sources of as yet unstudied dance and music material which may prove of great value-not only to the arts, but as a means of understanding the cultural patterns of the people from whom they come. The value of the death customs cannot be estimated at this time from a standpoint of artistic creation; but, using the chant of the baquini as inspiration, Rafael Hernindez of Puerto Rico has written a three-part composition for chorus, which is a masterpiece of musical expression. MUSIC AND DRAMA 59 MUSIC AND DRAMA 59 lost, for Puerto Rico places little importance upon any of her African heritage. The only dance which developed in Puerto Rico as a result of a Spanish and African mixture is the Plena, a relatively new rhythm (1911) which adequately expresses the mixed race and background of the Puerto Rican. The Plena discarded the roman- tic idealism of the nineteenth century for a humorous, realistic attitude reflected in both the words of its songs and the motions of the dance. In the Spanish-speaking countries of the Caribbean-Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, and Venezuela-where the slave trade flourished, the wakes for the dead, known various- ly as baquinis or velorios, dramatize the union of ancient myths with the tradition and dogma of the Catholic Church. Whereas in Venezuela it is possible to name and describe dances dealing with the death and burial ceremonies, the baquini in Puerto Rico and Santo Domingo is already close to oblivion because of its African background and because of the legends of revelry and debauchery which have accompanied the wakes for the dead child. But underlying the celebration of the baquini, which outwardly is callous and unfeeling, is the consoling philosophy which cele- brates not the death of a child, but his admittance into heaven and his escape from the poverty and ills of this world. Without commenting on the moral values of the custom, even though it seems inadvisable to make judgments using our own standards as criteria, it can be said that the baquini and velorio both are sources of as yet unstudied dance and music material which may prove of great value-not only to the arts, but as a means of understanding the cultural patterns of the people from whom they come. The value of the death customs cannot be estimated at this time from a standpoint of artistic creation; but, using the chant of the baquini as inspiration, Rafael Hernandez of Puerto Rico has written a three-part composition for chorus, which is a masterpiece of musical expression. lost, for Puerto Rico places little importance upon any of her African heritage. The only dance which developed in Puerto Rico as a result of a Spanish and African mixture is the Plena, a relatively new rhythm (1911) which adequately expresses the mixed race and background of the Puerto Rican. The Plena discarded the roman- tic idealism of the nineteenth century for a humorous, realistic attitude reflected in both the words of its songs and the motions of the dance. In the Spanish-speaking countries of the Caribbean-Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, and Venezuela-where the slave trade flourished, the wakes for the dead, known various- ly as baquinis or velorios, dramatize the union of ancient myths with the tradition and dogma of the Catholic Church. Whereas in Venezuela it is possible to name and describe dances dealing with the death and burial ceremonies, the baquini in Puerto Rico and Santo Domingo is already close to oblivion because of its African background and because of the legends of revelry and debauchery which have accompanied the wakes for the dead child. But underlying the celebration of the baquini, which outwardly is callous and unfeeling, is the consoling philosophy which cele- brates not the death of a child, but his admittance into heaven and his escape from the poverty and ills of this world. Without commenting on the moral values of the custom, even though it seems inadvisable to make judgments using our own standards as criteria, it can be said that the baquin and velorio both are sources of as yet unstudied dance and music material which may prove of great value-not only to the arts, but as a means of understanding the cultural patterns of the people from whom they come. The value of the death customs cannot be estimated at this time from a standpoint of artistic creation; but, using the chant of the baquini as inspiration, Rafael Hernindez of Puerto Rico has written a three-part composition for chorus, which is a masterpiece of musical expression.  60 The Caribbean VI The same racial and cultural background that produced the Rhumba in Cuba and the Plena in Puerto Rico led to the develop- ment of the Merengue in the Dominican Republic. Somewhat similar in rhythm to both Plena and Rhumba, the Merengue is danced almost entirely with the weight on one foot in a limping pattern and uses figures reminiscent of the Spanish Paso Doble. Pure African dance has almost disappeared from the Domin- ican Republic. One of the most popular folk dances, known as the Carabine, has a history reaching back at least three hundred years. Although the point is difficult, if not impossible, to prove, some authorities seem to feel that the Carabind is a direct descend- ant of Carib and Arawak Indian dances found in Santo Domingo by the conquerors. Courlander has also remarked on the presence of the same dance in Haiti under the names of Carabini, Cra- bienne, and Gabienne and attributes it to Indian influences.' VII During the nineteenth century, many dances were imported in- to the West Indies from European society. Ladies and gentlemen danced the sedate measures of the Minuet, the courtly Rigodon, the lovely Contradanza, the Spanish Danza, and even the Austrian Waltz and the Polish Mazurka. These dances were, almost with- out exception, confined to the upper classes and to formal balls, but the always imitative African watched the dances, soon picked them up, interpreted them in his own style, and produced a ' The background of Dominican dance and music is a subject of some controversy. Most Dominican writers tend to look for any substitute for an African background. This position has been severely criticized by Mel- ville Herskovits and Jacob Coopersmith. Flerida de Nolasco has claimed the origin of the Carabine to come from the Spanish Danza, but the evidence does not seem to bear out this theory. Courlander has thought this dance to be of Indian origin (Haiti Singing, p. 122) in agreement with Deren (op. cit., p. 275). Nolasco also attributes the development of the Merengue to the Danza, a point of view which fails to take into ac- count the strong African rhythm characteristic of the Merengue. 60 The Caribbean 60 The Caribbean VI The same racial and cultural background that produced the Rhumba in Cuba and the Plena in Puerto Rico led to the develop- ment of the Merengue in the Dominican Republic. Somewhat similar in rhythm to both Plena and Rhumba, the Merengue is danced almost entirely with the weight on one foot in a limping pattern and uses figures reminiscent of the Spanish Paso Doble. Pure African dance has almost disappeared from the Domin- ican Republic. One of the most popular folk dances, known as the Carabind, has a history reaching back at least three hundred years. Although the point is difficult, if not impossible, to prove, some authorities seem to feel that the Carabind is a direct descend- ant of Carib and Arawak Indian dances found in Santo Domingo by the conquerors. Courlander has also remarked on the presence of the same dance in Haiti under the names of Carabine, Cra- bienne, and Gabienne and attributes it to Indian influences.' VII During the nineteenth century, many dances were imported in- to the West Indies from European society. Ladies and gentlemen danced the sedate measures of the Minuet, the courtly Rigodon, the lovely Contradanza, the Spanish Danza, and even the Austrian Waltz and the Polish Mazurha. These dances were, almost with- out exception, confined to the upper classes and to formal balls, but the always imitative African watched the dances, soon picked them up, interpreted them in his own style, and produced a ' The background of Dominican dance and music is a subject of some controversy. Most Dominican writers tend to look for any substitute for an African background. This position has been severely criticized by Mel- ville Herskovits and Jacob Coopersmith. Flerida de Nolasco has claimed the origin of the Carabini to come from the Spanish Danza, but the evidence does not seem to bear out this theory. Courlander has thought this dance to be of Indian origin (Haiti Singing, p. 122) in agreement with Deren (op. cit., p. 275). Nolasco also attributes the development of the Merengue to the Danza, a point of view which fails to take into ac- count the strong African rhythm characteristic of the Merengue. VI The same racial and cultural background that produced the Rhumba in Cuba and the Plena in Puerto Rico led to the develop- ment of the Merengue in the Dominican Republic. Somewhat similar in rhythm to both Plena and Rhumba, the Merengue is danced almost entirely with the weight on one foot in a limping pattern and uses figures reminiscent of the Spanish Paso Doble. Pure African dance has almost disappeared from the Domin- ican Republic. One of the most popular folk dances, known as the Carabind, has a history reaching back at least three hundred years. Although the point is difficult, if not impossible, to prove, some authorities seem to feel that the Carabind is a direct descend- ant of Carib and Arawak Indian dances found in Santo Domingo by the conquerors. Courlander has also remarked on the presence of the same dance in Haiti under the names of Carabind, Cra- bienne, and Gabienne and attributes it to Indian influences.' VII During the nineteenth century, many dances were imported in- to the West Indies from European society. Ladies and gentlemen danced the sedate measures of the Minuet, the courtly Rigodon, the lovely Contradanza, the Spanish Danza, and even the Austrian Waltz and the Polish Mazurha. These dances were, almost with- out exception, confined to the upper classes and to formal balls, but the always imitative African watched the dances, soon picked them up, interpreted them in his own style, and produced a ' The background of Dominican dance and music is a subject of some controversy. Most Dominican writers tend to look for any substitute for an African background. This position has been severely criticized by Mel- ville Herskovits and Jacob Coopersmith. Flerida de Nolasco has claimed the origin of the Carabind to come from the Spanish Danza, but the evidence does not seem to bear out this theory. Courlander has thought this dance to be of Indian origin (Haiti Singing, p. 122) in agreement with Deren (op. cit., p. 275). Nolasco also attributes the development of the Merengue to the Danza, a point of view which fails to take into ac- count the strong African rhythm characteristic of the Merengue.  MUSIC AND DRAMA 61 MUSIC AND DRAMA 61 MUSIC AND DRAMA whole new set of dances still performed under the old names but with a vastly different style. Every island of the Caribbean has its own Mazurka, and it is most interesting to talk with the country people and hear them explain the origin of the dance. In all cases, it is regarded as indigenous to the individual island, and it would be very difficult to convince them otherwise. The same thing is true of the Waltz, a form of which is danced from Cuba to Trinidad, each island lending its own history and background to the making of a new interpretation. And despite their foreign birthplaces, these Euro- pean dances have so adapted themselves to their countries of adoption that they have acquired characteristics which entitle them to be called true folk dances. They no longer express Euro- pean temperament and composition, but have become part of Caribbean folklore. As previously pointed out, the treatment accorded the slave in the English-speaking colonies was based on the philosophy which made a chattel of a human being-and one which was con- sidered to be capable of not much thought and little, if any, feel- ing. The church ignored the existence of the slave and assumed no responsibility for his moral or economic welfare. Even as freedmen, the ex-slaves had no legal rights, and only recently have efforts been made to provide education or economic oppor- tunity of any sort. If the social difference between white and mulatto was great, the distance between white and black was infinite, and status among the Negroes themselves was based almost entirely upon the degree of whiteness achieved by illicit unions with white colonists. This particular social situation led to two important features which developed in the folklore of the British West Indies. Be- cause the ex-slaves often lived in isolated rural areas and had little contact with cities and no educational advantages, not only were African customs retained, but pagan religions remained al- most intact. There was no diffusion or joining of cultures as happened in the Spanish-speaking countries, for the English con- whole new set of dances still performed under the old names but with a vastly different style. Every island of the Caribbean has its own Mazurka, and it is most interesting to talk with the country people and hear them explain the origin of the dance. In all cases, it is regarded as indigenous to the individual island, and it would be very difficult to convince them otherwise. The same thing is true of the Waltz, a form of which is danced from Cuba to Trinidad, each island lending its own history and background to the making of a new interpretation. And despite their foreign birthplaces, these Euro- pean dances have so adapted themselves to their countries of adoption that they have acquired characteristics which entitle them to be called true folk dances. They no longer express Euro- pean temperament and composition, but have become part of Caribbean folklore. As previously pointed out, the treatment accorded the slave in the English-speaking colonies was based on the philosophy which made a chattel of a human being-and one which was con- sidered to be capable of not much thought and little, if any, feel- ing. The church ignored the existence of the slave and assumed no responsibility for his moral or economic welfare. Even as freedmen, the ex-slaves bad no legal rights, and only recently have efforts been made to provide education or economic oppor- tunity of any sort. If the social difference between white and mulatto was great, the distance between white and black was infinite, and status among the Negroes themselves was based almost entirely upon the degree of whiteness achieved by illicit unions with white colonists. This particular social situation led to two important features which developed in the folklore of the British West Indies. Be- cause the ex-slaves often lived in isolated rural areas and had little contact with cities and no educational advantages, not only were African customs retained, but pagan religions remained al- most intact. There was no diffusion or joining of cultures as happened in the Spanish-speaking countries, for the English con- whole new set of dances still performed under the old names but with a vastly different style. Every island of the Caribbean has its own Mazurka, and it is most interesting to talk with the country people and hear them explain the origin of the dance. In all cases, it is regarded as indigenous to the individual island, and it would be very difficult to convince them otherwise. The same thing is true of the Waltz, a form of which is danced from Cuba to Trinidad, each island lending its own history and background to the making of a new interpretation. And despite their foreign birthplaces, these Euro- pean dances have so adapted themselves to their countries of adoption that they have acquired characteristics which entitle them to be called true folk dances. They no longer express Euro- pean temperament and composition, but have become part of Caribbean folklore. As previously pointed out, the treatment accorded the slave in the English-speaking colonies was based on the philosophy which made a chattel of a human being-and one which was con- sidered to be capable of not much thought and little, if any, feel- ing. The church ignored the existence of the slave and assumed no responsibility for his moral or economic welfare. Even as freedmen, the ex-slaves had no legal rights, and only recently have efforts been made to provide education or economic oppor- tunity of any sort. If the social difference between white and mulatto was great, the distance between white and black was infinite, and status among the Negroes themselves was based almost entirely upon the degree of whiteness achieved by illicit unions with white colonists. This particular social situation led to two important features which developed in the folklore of the British West Indies. Be- cause the ex-slaves often lived in isolated rural areas and had little contact with cities and no educational advantages, not only were African customs retained, but pagan religions remained al- most intact. There was no diffusion or joining of cultures as happened in the Spanish-speaking countries, for the English con-  62 The Caribbean 62 The Caribbean 62 The Caribbean tributed very little in the way of compatible dance and music usable to the African. With the advent of the radio and increased educational fa- cilities, the music and dance of the outside world came to the British West Indies, and some of the Cuban dances were im- mediately taken up. A second factor of great importance in West Indian folklore has been the attitude of the islanders themselves. Although African cultures were retained and their religions prac- ticed, among those who had had the advantages of any education or European cultural contacts or where there were prominent mulatto groups, African music, dance, and religion were scorned and reviled. All those of pure black ancestry were told that by retaining their own customs they were "going back to Africa," and that, consequently, they would never find a place in the white man's society if they persisted. As a result, the Caribbean people are victims of an international inferiority complex, ex- tended to include all elements of African culture. Because the people have been told it is worthless, heathen, evil, and degen- erate, this unique and valuable contribution of dance and musical expression and creation has become a source of shame rather than pride. Once white colonists realized the unifying effect of dance and drum among their slaves, both were immediately banned for the protection of the grossly outnumbered Europeans. It was im- possible, however, to legislate out of existence so basic an ingredi- ent in African culture and personality, and, secretly or openly, drums continued to accompany dances marking sacred and secular ceremonies among both the slaves and their descendants. VIII In Trinidad, the primary African religion surviving European moral indignation and legislative ban was Shango, dedicated to the god of lightning. Among the Yorubas of Africa, Shango was among the most powerful deities. His name is thought to mean tributed very little in the way of compatible dance and music usable to the African. With the advent of the radio and increased educational fa- cilities, the music and dance of the outside world came to the British West Indies, and some of the Cuban dances were im- mediately taken up. A second factor of great importance in West Indian folklore has been the attitude of the islanders themselves. Although African cultures were retained and their religions prac- ticed, among those who had had the advantages of any education or European cultural contacts or where there were prominent mulatto groups, African music, dance, and religion were scorned and reviled. All those of pure black ancestry were told that by retaining their own customs they were "going back to Africa," and that, consequently, they would never find a place in the white man's society if they persisted. As a result, the Caribbean people are victims of an international inferiority complex, ex- tended to include all elements of African culture. Because the people have been told it is worthless, heathen, evil, and degen- erate, this unique and valuable contribution of dance and musical expression and creation has become a source of shame rather than pride. Once white colonists realized the unifying effect of dance and drum among their slaves, both were immediately banned for the protection of the grossly outnumbered Europeans. It was im- possible, however, to legislate out of existence so basic an ingredi- ent in African culture and personality, and, secretly or openly, drums continued to accompany dances marking sacred and secular ceremonies among both the slaves and their descendants. VIII In Trinidad, the primary African religion surviving European moral indignation and legislative ban was Shango, dedicated to the god of lightning. Among the Yorubas of Africa, Shango was among the most powerful deities. His name is thought to mean tributed very little in the way of compatible dance and music usable to the African. With the advent of the radio and increased educational fa- cilities, the music and dance of the outside world came to the British West Indies, and some of the Cuban dances were im- mediately taken up. A second factor of great importance in West Indian folklore has been the attitude of the islanders themselves. Although African cultures were retained and their religions prac- ticed, among those who had had the advantages of any education or European cultural contacts or where there were prominent mulatto groups, African music, dance, and religion were scorned and reviled. All those of pure black ancestry were told that by retaining their own customs they were "going back to Africa," and that, consequently, they would never find a place in the white man's society if they persisted. As a result, the Caribbean people are victims of an international inferiority complex, ex- tended to include all elements of African culture. Because the people have been told it is worthless, heathen, evil, and degen- erate, this unique and valuable contribution of dance and musical expression and creation has become a source of shame rather than pride. Once white colonists realized the unifying effect of dance and drum among their slaves, both were immediately banned for the protection of the grossly outnumbered Europeans. It was im- possible, however, to legislate out of existence so basic an ingredi- ent in African culture and personality, and, secretly or openly, drums continued to accompany dances marking sacred and secular ceremonies among both the slaves and their descendants. VIII In Trinidad, the primary African religion surviving European moral indignation and legislative ban was Shango, dedicated to the god of lightning. Among the Yorubas of Africa, Shango was among the most powerful deities. His name is thought to mean  MUSIC AND DRAMA 63 MUSIC AND DRAMA 63 MUSIC AND DRAMA 63 "strike violently and bewilder." Appropriately enough, Shango's symbol is an iron chain. Shango is also known in both Haiti and Cuba, but is of far more importance in Trinidad. Although offi- cially banned, Shango as a religion is still strong, and its cere- monies and dances are an important part of the folklore of the island. Following emancipation, succeeding years saw a greater in- fluence of the Anglican church among the Africans. The Shouters of Trinidad are an example of a very altered form of Protestantism, which would hardly be recognized in the staid and solemn atmos- phere of an English Church. Outwardly Christian, their meetings bear some resemblance to the revival meetings held in the United States among some religious sects. Hymns introduce certain Christian elements of the ceremony, which serve to invoke the return of pagan gods. Many instances of possession and trance are part of the ritual, producing some of the most violent and uninhibited dance of the West Indies. Within the Shango and Shouters cults are examples of the ritualistic dances of Trinidad, but by far the best-known musical form is Calypso. Calypso was originally a means of communica- tion among illiterate people, and gossip, news, scandal, slander, and political commentary was sung in improvised verse by African troubadours. With the recent overwhelming popularity of Calyp- so among all the British West Indies, it is not surprising that a dance has developed side by side with the music-King Sailor, the darling and creation of the Trinidad dance hall. While it is not possible here to describe the dance choreographically, an ex- cellent idea of the style of Trinidad Calypso dancing can be had by observing "Bop" or "Bebop" in the United States. And this, too, is logical, for "Bop" originated with the Harlem Negro, whose history so closely parallels his Trinidad brother. Calypso is now the theme music for Antigua, Jamaica, and the Leeward and Windward islands, as well as for Trinidad and Tobago. Each island has its own variation, but the mood and motive are the same. Although during most of the year, the British "strike violently and bewilder." Appropriately enough, Shango's symbol is an iron chain. Shango is also known in both Haiti and Cuba, but is of far more importance in Trinidad. Although offi- cially banned, Shango as a religion is still strong, and its cere- monies and dances are an important part of the folklore of the island. Following emancipation, succeeding years saw a greater in- fluence of the Anglican church among the Africans. The Shouters of Trinidad are an example of a very altered form of Protestantism, which would hardly be recognized in the staid and solemn atmos- phere of an English Church. Outwardly Christian, their meetings bear some resemblance to the revival meetings held in the United States among some religious sects. Hymns introduce certain Christian elements of the ceremony, which serve to invoke the return of pagan gods. Many instances of possession and trance are part of the ritual, producing some of the most violent and uninhibited dance of the West Indies. Within the Shango and Shouters cults are examples of the ritualistic dances of Trinidad, but by far the best-known musical form is Calypso. Calypso was originally a means of communica- tion among illiterate people, and gossip, news, scandal, slander, and political commentary was sung in improvised verse by African troubadours. With the recent overwhelming popularity of Calyp- so among all the British West Indies, it is not surprising that a dance has developed side by side with the music-King Sailor, the darling and creation of the Trinidad dance hall. While it is not possible here to describe the dance choreographically, an ex- cellent idea of the style of Trinidad Calypso dancing can be had by observing "Bop" or "Bebop" in the United States. And this, too, is logical, for "Bop" originated with the Harlem Negro, whose history so closely parallels his Trinidad brother. Calypso is now the theme music for Antigua, Jamaica, and the Leeward and Windward islands, as well as for Trinidad and Tobago. Each island has its own variation, but the mood and motive are the same. Although during most of the year, the British "strike violently and bewilder." Appropriately enough, Shango's symbol is an iron chain. Shango is also known in both Haiti and Cuba, but is of far more importance in Trinidad. Although offi- cially banned, Shango as a religion is still strong, and its cere- monies and dances are an important part of the folklore of the island. Following emancipation, succeeding years saw a greater in- fluence of the Anglican church among the Africans. The Shouters of Trinidad are an example of a very altered form of Protestantism, which would hardly be recognized in the staid and solemn atmos- phere of an English Church. Outwardly Christian, their meetings bear some resemblance to the revival meetings held in the United States among some religious sects. Hymns introduce certain Christian elements of the ceremony, which serve to invoke the return of pagan gods. Many instances of possession and trance are part of the ritual, producing some of the most violent and uninhibited dance of the West Indies. Within the Shango and Shouters cults are examples of the ritualistic dances of Trinidad, but by far the best-known musical form is Calypso. Calypso was originally a means of communica- tion among illiterate people, and gossip, news, scandal, slander, and political commentary was sung in improvised verse by African troubadours. With the recent overwhelming popularity of Calyp- so among all the British West Indies, it is not surprising that a dance has developed side by side with the music-King Sailor, the darling and creation of the Trinidad dance hall. While it is not possible here to describe the dance choreographically, an ex- cellent idea of the style of Trinidad Calypso dancing can be had by observing "Bop" or "Bebop" in the United States. And this, too, is logical, for "Bop" originated with the Harlem Negro, whose history so closely parallels his Trinidad brother. Calypso is now the theme music for Antigua, Jamaica, and the Leeward and Windward islands, as well as for Trinidad and Tobago. Each island has its own variation, but the mood and motive are the same. Although during most of the year, the British  64 The Caribbean 64 The Caribbean 64 The Caribbean West Indies are quiet, staid, and sometimes dull, when Carnival time comes, all restrictions are cast aside, and the towns explode in infectious gaiety, while the rocking rhythm of the Calypso and the melodic tones of the steel drums shatter the sheltered re- spectability of the islands. This is the time when all the folkloric dances may be seen, brought out of hiding for their moment of glory. Jump-Up typifies the Carnival spirit which is shared by even the most cold-blooded northerner. The dance is simple, but so filled with exuberance and joy of living that its movement is hard to resist, even for the English, who once a year let down all bars and bans while the islands go into an ecstasy that is close to mad- ness. Not only Jump-Up, but Calenda, Limbo, Bongo, Bel Air, Beguine, Shango, and all the many other folk dances usually so obscure are seen on every corner. Although a strictly once-a-year event, Carnival has been responsible, more than any other single element, for the preservation of the character and identity of the ethnic dance and music of the British West Indies. No discussion of folklore, as it applies to dance and music, would be complete without at least a mention of the steel drums, modern musical phenomena of the British West Indies. Years ago, the British banned the use of drums and were able to enforce the prohibition in the immediate neighborhood of Port-of-Spain. But the removal of the drums only forced the people to invent another form of percussion expression. And so they stole garbage cans. Not only were the regular thefts of the garbage cans annoying, but the horrible din produced by banging on metal made Trinidad nights hideous. All efforts of the police and the offended citizenry, however, failed to stop the thefts or control the noise. Gradually, a technique was adapted to these weird instruments, and old oil drums, with a better beating surface, replaced garbage cans. Then came the remarkable discovery that the bottom surface of the drum held areas of tonal differ- ence. The drums were beaten with sticks with rubber tipped West Indies are quiet, staid, and sometimes dull, when Carnival time comes, all restrictions are cast aside, and the towns explode in infectious gaiety, while the rocking rhythm of the Calypso and the melodic tones of the steel drums shatter the sheltered re- spectability of the islands. This is the time when all the folkloric dances may be seen, brought out of hiding for their moment of glory. Jump-Up typifies the Carnival spirit which is shared by even the most cold-blooded northerner. The dance is simple, but so filled with exuberance and joy of living that its movement is hard to resist, even for the English, who once a year let down all bars and bans while the islands go into an ecstasy that is close to mad- ness. Not only Jump-Up, but Calenda, Limbo, Bongo, Bel Air, Beguine, Shango, and all the many other folk dances usually so obscure are seen on every corner. Although a strictly once-a-year event, Carnival has been responsible, more than any other single element, for the preservation of the character and identity of the ethnic dance and music of the British West Indies. No discussion of folklore, as it applies to dance and music, would be complete without at least a mention of the steel drums, modern musical phenomena of the British West Indies. Years ago, the British banned the use of drums and were able to enforce the prohibition in the immediate neighborhood of Port-of-Spain. But the removal of the drums only forced the people to invent another fom of percussion expression. And so they stole garbage cans. Not only were the regular thefts of the garbage cans annoying, but the horrible din produced by banging on metal made Trinidad nights hideous. All efforts of the police and the offended citizenry, however, failed to stop the thefts or control the noise. Gradually, a technique was adapted to these weird instruments, and old oil drums, with a better beating surface, replaced garbage cans. Then came the remarkable discovery that the bottom surface of the drum held areas of tonal differ- ence. The drums were beaten with sticks with rubber tipped West Indies are quiet, staid, and sometimes dull, when Carnival time comes, all restrictions are cast aside, and the towns explode in infectious gaiety, while the rocking rhythm of the Calypso and the melodic tones of the steel drums shatter the sheltered re- spectability of the islands. This is the time when all the folkloric dances may be seen, brought out of hiding for their moment of glory. Jump-Up typifies the Carnival spirit which is shared by even the most cold-blooded northerner. The dance is simple, but so filled with exuberance and joy of living that its movement is hard to resist, even for the English, who once a year let down all bars and bans while the islands go into an ecstasy that is close to mad- ness. Not only Jump-Up, but Calenda, Limbo, Bongo, Bel Air, Beguine, Shango, and all the many other folk dances usually so obscure are seen on every corner. Although a strictly once-a-year event, Carnival has been responsible, more than any other single element, for the preservation of the character and identity of the ethnic dance and music of the British West Indies. No discussion of folklore, as it applies to dance and music, would be complete without at least a mention of the steel drums, modern musical phenomena of the British West Indies. Years ago, the British banned the use of drums and were able to enforce the prohibition in the immediate neighborhood of Port-of-Spain. But the removal of the drums only forced the people to invent another form of percussion expression. And so they stole garbage cans. Not only were the regular thefts of the garbage cans annoying, but the horrible din produced by banging on metal made Trinidad nights hideous. All efforts of the police and the offended citizenry, however, failed to stop the thefts or control the noise. Gradually, a technique was adapted to these weird instruments, and old oil drums, with a better beating surface, replaced garbage cans. Then came the remarkable discovery that the bottom surface of the drum held areas of tonal differ- ence. The drums were beaten with sticks with rubber tipped  MUSIC AND DRAMA l5i ends, and a system of hitting the "pans" developed, which could produce melody as well as rhythm. The experimental period came to an end with a complete band of twenty men or more playing anything from Beethoven and Bach to Calypso, Mambo, or church hymns. To produce the necessary number of notes, the drums are cut off to different heights, and are appropriately known as tenor, baritone, and bass pans. The tuning process is accomplished by the use of a block of wood and a hammer, and the pan is pounded until the exact tone is found. The playing is done entirely by ear, for, so far, a written system has not been devised for steel drums. From be- ing nuisances and delinquents, steel-bandsmen have become re- spectable and their achievements so well recognized that Trinidad sent a steel band to the coronation of Elizabeth II to represent the island.' IX Included in the English-speaking group of Caribbean islands are our own Virgin Islands, whose cultural patterns more closely resemble those of the British West Indies than those of Puerto Rico or Cuba. In the little island of St. Croix is one of the most unique and unusual dance groups in the world. Years ago the slaves heard the stories of King Arthur, St. George and the Dragon, and the Knights of the Round Table. During the centuries since then, and throughout the many changes of nationality that re- flected the European struggle for power, first the slaves and then their descendants danced the "jig with recitation." Their use of the jig is exactly as defined by the English Folklore Society- dance with recitation. The words of the jig dialogue of St. Croix have been passed on by mouth for generations. Although dis- torted by time and by the almost incomprehensible dialect of the Crucian native, the stories of King Arthur, St. George, and other English folk legends are acted, spoken, and danced. This * Charles S. Espinet, "Trinidad's Tinpany," Esso, I, No. 5, 14-i8. MUSIC AND DRAMA 65 ends, and a system of hitting the "pans" developed, which could produce melody as well as rhythm. The experimental period came to an end with a complete band of twenty men or more playing anything from Beethoven and Bach to Calypso, Mambo, or church hymns. To produce the necessary number of notes, the drums are cut off to different heights, and are appropriately known as tenor, baritone, and bass pans. The tuning process is accomplished by the use of a block of wood and a hammer, and the pan is pounded until the exact tone is found. The playing is done entirely by ear, for, so far, a written system has not been devised for steel drums. From be- ing nuisances and delinquents, steel-bandsmen have become re- spectable and their achievements so well recognized that Trinidad sent a steel band to the coronation of Elizabeth II to represent the island., IX Included in the English-speaking group of Caribbean islands are our own Virgin Islands, whose cultural patterns more closely resemble those of the British West Indies than those of Puerto Rico or Cuba. In the little island of St. Croix is one of the most unique and unusual dance groups in the world. Years ago the slaves heard the stories of King Arthur, St. George and the Dragon, and the Knights of the Round Table. During the centuries since then, and throughout the many changes of nationality that re- flected the European struggle for power, first the slaves and then their descendants danced the "jig with recitation." Their use of the jig is exactly as defined by the English Folklore Society- dance with recitation. The words of the jig dialogue of St. Croix have been passed on by mouth for generations. Although dis- torted by time and by the almost incomprehensible dialect of the Crucian native, the stories of King Arthur, St. George, and other English folk legends are acted, spoken, and danced. This * Charles S. Espinet, "Trinidad's Tinpany," Esso, I, No. 5, 14-18. MUSIC AND DRAMA 65 ends, and a system of hitting the "pans" developed, which could produce melody as well as rhythm. The experimental period came to an end with a complete band of twenty men or more playing anything from Beethoven and Bach to Calypso, Mambo, or church hymns. To produce the necessary number of notes, the drums are cut off to different heights, and are appropriately known as tenor, baritone, and bass pans. The tuning process is accomplished by the use of a block of wood and a hammer, and the pan is pounded until the exact tone is found. The playing is done entirely by ear, for, so far, a written system has not been devised for steel drums. From be- ing nuisances and delinquents, steel-bandsmen have become re- spectable and their achievements so well recognized that Trinidad sent a steel band to the coronation of Elizabeth II to represent the island., IX Included in the English-speaking group of Caribbean islands are our own Virgin Islands, whose cultural patterns more closely resemble those of the British West Indies than those of Puerto Rico or Cuba. In the little island of St. Croix is one of the most unique and unusual dance groups in the world. Years ago the slaves heard the stories of King Arthur, St. George and the Dragon, and the Knights of the Round Table. During the centuries since then, and throughout the many changes of nationality that re- flected the European struggle for power, first the slaves and then their descendants danced the "jig with recitation." Their use of the jig is exactly as defined by the English Folklore Society- dance with recitation. The words of the jig dialogue of St. Croix have been passed on by mouth for generations. Although dis- torted by time and by the almost incomprehensible dialect of the Crucian native, the stories of King Arthur, St. George, and other English folk legends are acted, spoken, and danced. This Charles S. Espinet, "Trinidad's Tinpany," Esso, I, No. 5, 14-18.  66 The Caribbean 66 The Caribbean 66 The Caribbean group is composed nearly entirely of people who are now from sixty to eighty years old. Young Crucians no longer seem in- terested in learning the long recitations which may go on for hours-nor can they dance the intricate jig patterns which do not resemble African steps, but look very much like a modern Irish jig. The Virgin Islands are also a stronghold for the old quadrilles, learned by slaves looking through the windows of plantation houses. Anyone knowing the formalized court etiquette which dictated the form of the old quadrille would probably be amazed to see this version, but all the figures remain intact-it is only the step and style that have become Africanized. Musical instru- ments resembling the flutes and trap drums used by the early colonists have been devised. The music is unlike any other in the West Indies. X Mention has been made several times of existent dances which are pure African in character-the Nago of Cuba, the Bomba of Puerto Rico, the Shango of Trinidad. But nowhere else in the world has African dance developed to the extent found in Haiti. Haiti is a land of incomparable contrast, vivid color, and un- quenchable vitality. Although Haiti is part of the Western World geographically, the roots of her culture extend far back into the Dark Continent, and a violent history combined with a unique philosophy and a strange religion have moulded her dance and music. Vodoun is the name given to the spiritual beliefs and religion of the masses of Haiti. Its development as a mystic but positive force has been determined by the course of history as it affected the lives of the Haitians. While it is obviously impossible in a presentation of this scope to do more than mention the events which led to the destruction of the French colony by Negro revolt in one of the most brutal wars of modern history and to the es- group is composed nearly entirely of people who are now from sixty to eighty years old. Young Crucians no longer seem in- terested in learning the long recitations which may go on for hours-nor can they dance the intricate jig patterns which do not resemble African steps, but look very much like a modern Irish jig. The Virgin Islands are also a stronghold for the old quadrilles, learned by slaves looking through the windows of plantation houses. Anyone knowing the formalized court etiquette which dictated the form of the old quadrille would probably be amazed to see this version, but all the figures remain intact-it is only the step and style that have become Africanized. Musical instru- ments resembling the flutes and trap drums used by the early colonists have been devised. The music is unlike any other in the West Indies. X Mention has been made several times of existent dances which are pure African in character-the Nago of Cuba, the Bomba of Puerto Rico, the Shango of Trinidad. But nowhere else in the world has African dance developed to the extent found in Haiti. Haiti is a land of incomparable contrast, vivid color, and un- quenchable vitality. Although Haiti is part of the Western World geographically, the roots of her culture extend far back into the Dark Continent, and a violent history combined with a unique philosophy and a strange religion have moulded her dance and music. Vodoun is the name given to the spiritual beliefs and religion of the masses of Haiti. Its development as a mystic but positive force has been determined by the course of history as it affected the lives of the Haitians. While it is obviously impossible in a presentation of this scope to do more than mention the events which led to the destruction of the French colony by Negro revolt in one of the most brutal wars of modern history and to the es- group is composed nearly entirely of people who are now from sixty to eighty years old. Young Crucians no longer seem in- terested in learning the long recitations which may go on for hours-nor can they dance the intricate jig patterns which do not resemble African steps, but look very much like a modern Irish jig. The Virgin Islands are also a stronghold for the old quadrilles, learned by slaves looking through the windows of plantation houses. Anyone knowing the formalized court etiquette which dictated the form of the old quadrille would probably be amazed to see this version, but all the figures remain intact-it is only the step and style that have become Africanized. Musical instru- ments resembling the flutes and trap drums used by the early colonists have been devised. The music is unlike any other in the West Indies. X Mention has been made several times of existent dances which are pure African in character-the Nago of Cuba, the Bomba of Puerto Rico, the Shango of Trinidad. But nowhere else in the world has African dance developed to the extent found in Haiti. Haiti is a land of incomparable contrast, vivid color, and un- quenchable vitality. Although Haiti is part of the Western World geographically, the roots of her culture extend far back into the Dark Continent, and a violent history combined with a unique philosophy and a strange religion have moulded her dance and music. Vodoun is the name given to the spiritual beliefs and religion of the masses of Haiti. Its development as a mystic but positive force has been determined by the course of history as it affected the lives of the Haitians. While it is obviously impossible in a presentation of this scope to do more than mention the events which led to the destruction of the French colony by Negro revolt in one of the most brutal wars of modern history and to the es-  MUSIC AND DRAMA 67 MUSIC AND DRAMA 67 MUSIC AND DRAMA 67 tablishment of the first black republic in the world, it was Vodoun, as practiced in the vicious Petro ceremony, that initiated the first massacre of the French colonists. Although maligned, deplored, feared, and persecuted, Vodoun has maintained its hold upon the peasants of Haiti and is the religion of the illiterate, des- perately poor descendants of slaves, who for generations have practiced the lores, religions, and customs of their ancestors. From them comes the music and dance which is Vodoun. There is no more misunderstood word than Vodoun. The misconceptions which follow it range from cannibalism to tales of zombies and black magic. Many novelists have treated the sensational aspects of Vodoun, and films have distorted its philosophy in horror movies. And it is difficult to explain in terms understandable and acceptable to northern morality. Vodoun is not just a philosophy, not just a religion, not just magic and sorcery, not just superstition, not just good, not wholly evil, but it is a way of life and a belief which encompasses the mythology and the metaphysical concepts of a people whose worship and prayers are physically expressed in dance and rhythm. Greatly oversimplified, Haitian Vodoun consists of a hierarchy of gods sharply divided into two groups. The first, undoubtedly of Dahomean origin, is known as Rada.t The second, which grew up in the Western Hemisphere and is known only in Haiti, is Petro. While there are many exceptions, in general the gods of Rada are good, benevolent, and wise, while those of Petro are evil and malignant and must be propitiated to guard against their potent magic. Ancestor worship plays a large role in Vodoun, for the beliefs concerning the dead and the spirits are among the most important spiritual concepts of the religion. Although Haiti has several forms of dance, the ritual dance * For a description of the origin of Rada ceremonies in Africa, see Herskovits, Dahomey; and for its form in Haiti, see Herskovits, Life in a Haitian Valley. Excellent accounts of Rada and Petro ritual may also be found in Deren's and Courlander's accounts. An excellent example of dis- tortion of Haitian religion and manifestations is to be found in Loederer's Voodoo Fire. tablishment of the first black republic in the world, it was Vodoun, as practiced in the vicious Petro ceremony, that initiated the first massacre of the French colonists. Although maligned, deplored, feared, and persecuted, Vodoun has maintained its hold upon the peasants of Haiti and is the religion of the illiterate, des- perately poor descendants of slaves, who for generations have practiced the lores, religions, and customs of their ancestors. From them comes the music and dance which is Vodoun. There is no more misunderstood word than Vodoun. The misconceptions which follow it range from cannibalism to tales of zombies and black magic. Many novelists have treated the sensational aspects of Vodoun, and films have distorted its philosophy in horror movies. And it is difficult to explain in terms understandable and acceptable to northern morality. Vodoun is not just a philosophy, not just a religion, not just magic and sorcery, not just superstition, not just good, not wholly evil, but it is a way of life and a belief which encompasses the mythology and the metaphysical concepts of a people whose worship and prayers are physically expressed in dance and rhythm. Greatly oversimplified, Haitian Vodoun consists of a hierarchy of gods sharply divided into two groups. The first, undoubtedly of Dahomean origin, is known as Rada.t The second, which grew up in the Western Hemisphere and is known only in Haiti, is Petro. While there are many exceptions, in general the gods of Rada are good, benevolent, and wise, while those of Petro are evil and malignant and must be propitiated to guard against their potent magic. Ancestor worship plays a large role in Vodoun, for the beliefs concerning the dead and the spirits are among the most important spiritual concepts of the religion. Although Haiti has several forms of dance, the ritual dance For a description of the origin of Rada ceremonies in Africa, see Herskovits, Dahomey; and for its form in Haiti, see Herskovits, Life in a Haitian Valley. Excellent accounts of Rada and Petro ritual may also be found in Deren's and Courlande's accounts. An excellent example of dis- tortion of Haitian religion and manifestations is to be found in Loederer's Voodoo Fire. tablishment of the first black republic in the world, it was Vodoun, as practiced in the vicious Petro ceremony, that initiated the first massacre of the French colonists. Although maligned, deplored, feared, and persecuted, Vodoun has maintained its hold upon the peasants of Haiti and is the religion of the illiterate, des- perately poor descendants of slaves, who for generations have practiced the lores, religions, and customs of their ancestors. From them comes the music and dance which is Vodoun. There is no more misunderstood word than Vodoun. The misconceptions which follow it range from cannibalism to tales of zombies and black magic. Many novelists have treated the sensational aspects of Vodoun, and films have distorted its philosophy in horror movies. And it is difficult to explain in terms understandable and acceptable to northern morality. Vodoun is not just a philosophy, not just a religion, not just magic and sorcery, not just superstition, not just good, not wholly evil, but it is a way of life and a belief which encompasses the mythology and the metaphysical concepts of a people whose worship and prayers are physically expressed in dance and rhythm. Greatly oversimplified, Haitian Vodoun consists of a hierarchy of gods sharply divided into two groups. The first, undoubtedly of Dahomean origin, is known as Rada.' The second, which grew up in the Western Hemisphere and is known only in Haiti, is Petro. While there are many exceptions, in general the gods of Rada are good, benevolent, and wise, while those of Petro are evil and malignant and must be propitiated to guard against their potent magic. Ancestor worship plays a large role in Vodoun, for the beliefs concerning the dead and the spirits are among the most important spiritual concepts of the religion. Although Haiti has several forms of dance, the ritual dance For a description of the origin of Rada ceremonies in Africa, see Herskovits, Dahomey; and for its form in Haiti, see Herskovits, Life in a Haitian Valley. Excellent accounts of Rada and Petro ritual may also be found in Deren's and Courlande's accounts. An excellent example of dis- tortion of Haitian religion and manifestations is to be found in Loederer's Voodoo Fire.  68 The Caribbean 68 The Caribbean 68 The Caribbean is most outstanding. It has often been remarked by writers that the primitive dances are wild, uncontrolled improvisations. Noth- ing could be further from the truth. Dances are performed for certain gods on certain occasions, under specific circumstances, and in rigidly fixed styles. The way of dancing and the steps themselves are determined by the loa (god) invoked. The drums which are used for all Rada and Petro ceremonies are in themselves sacred instruments and are "blessed" or "bap- tized" by the houngnan (high priest). The drummers, regardless of their individual ability, are regarded only as necessary physical instruments and have no place in the Vodoun priesthood. They are hired simply to play, and the rhythm beaten must conform to the rhythmic pattern associated with the certain god for whom the ceremony is being held. After the invocation to the god, everyone dances to await the coming. There is no element of competition in the dance, but rather an atmosphere of anticipation. The god makes his presence known by "possessing" or "mounting" one of the worshippers. The phenomena of "possession" has never been satisfactorily ex- plained. Outwardly, the individual goes into a trance state during which he assumes the character, appearance, voice, and person- ality of the god. It is basic to Vodoun religion that the soul of the individual must leave the body before the spirit of the god may enter, for the soul and the body are not one, but two, and may separate from each other. The mortal person is absent, and his body is no longer even called by his name but by that of the god who inhabits it. For the moment he is the god and is treated accordingly. All of the loa possess their own peculiar physical characteristics, voices, and clothing. In states of possession, the mortal may wear the typical god's clothing, assume another voice, and may even change his sex. Since the body belongs not to a mortal but to a god, it is quite possible that the god might perform feats of danc- ing which the mortal can never equal. This is true of all Haitian ritual dance, and may serve as an explanation of the apparent in- is most outstanding. It has often been remarked by writers that the primitive dances are wild, uncontrolled improvisations. Noth- ing could be further from the truth. Dances are performed for certain gods on certain occasions, under specific circumstances, and in rigidly fixed styles. The way of dancing and the steps themselves are determined by the loa (god) invoked. The drums which are used for all Rada and Petro ceremonies are in themselves sacred instruments and are "blessed" or "bap- tized" by the houngnan (high priest). The drummers, regardless of their individual ability, are regarded only as necessary physical instruments and have no place in the Vodoun priesthood. They are hired simply to play, and the rhythm beaten must conform to the rhythmic pattern associated with the certain god for whom the ceremony is being held. After the invocation to the god, everyone dances to await the coming. There is no element of competition in the dance, but rather an atmosphere of anticipation. The god makes his presence known by "possessing" or "mounting" one of the worshippers. The phenomena of "possession" has never been satisfactorily ex- plained. Outwardly, the individual goes into a trance state during which he assumes the character, appearance, voice, and person- ality of the god. It is basic to Vodoun religion that the soul of the individual must leave the body before the spirit of the god may enter, for the soul and the body are not one, but two, and may separate from each other. The mortal person is absent, and his body is no longer even called by his name but by that of the god who inhabits it. For the moment he is the god and is treated accordingly. All of the loa possess their own peculiar physical characteristics, voices, and clothing. In states of possession, the mortal may wear the typical god's clothing, assume another voice, and may even change his sex. Since the body belongs not to a mortal but to a god, it is quite possible that the god might perform feats of danc- ing which the mortal can never equal. This is true of all Haitian ritual dance, and may serve as an explanation of the apparent in- is most outstanding. It has often been remarked by writers that the primitive dances are wild, uncontrolled improvisations. Noth- ing could be further from the truth. Dances are performed for certain gods on certain occasions, under specific circumstances, and in rigidly fixed styles. The way of dancing and the steps themselves are determined by the loa (god) invoked. The drums which are used for all Rada and Petro ceremonies are in themselves sacred instruments and are "blessed" or "bap- tized" by the houngnan (high priest). The drummers, regardless of their individual ability, are regarded only as necessary physical instruments and have no place in the Vodoun priesthood. They are hired simply to play, and the rhythm beaten must conform to the rhythmic pattern associated with the certain god for whom the ceremony is being held. After the invocation to the god, everyone dances to await the coming. There is no element of competition in the dance, but rather an atmosphere of anticipation. The god makes his presence known by "possessing" or "mounting" one of the worshippers. The phenomena of "possession" has never been satisfactorily ex- plained. Outwardly, the individual goes into a trance state during which he assumes the character, appearance, voice, and person- ality of the god. It is basic to Vodoun religion that the soul of the individual must leave the body before the spirit of the god may enter, for the soul and the body are not one, but two, and may separate from each other. The mortal person is absent, and his body is no longer even called by his name but by that of the god who inhabits it. For the moment he is the god and is treated accordingly. All of the loa possess their own peculiar physical characteristics, voices, and clothing. In states of possession, the mortal may wear the typical god's clothing, assume another voice, and may even change his sex. Since the body belongs not to a mortal but to a god, it is quite possible that the god might perform feats of danc- ing which the mortal can never equal. This is true of all Haitian ritual dance, and may serve as an explanation of the apparent in-  MUSIC AND DRAMA 69 MUSIC AND DRAMA 69 MUSIC AND DRAMA 69 exhaustibility of the Haitian while dancing a ritual under the spell of possession, as compared to the professional dancer trying to reproduce the dance under theatrical conditions. Very briefly summarized, Haitian ritual dance emphasizes a general participation and serves to prepare mind and body for the entrance of the loa, and later special participation when the gods dance. While it seems in many cases, and to unprepared spectators unfamiliar with African dancing, that the dances are sensual, erotic, and violent without the grace of the typical ballet, a trained dancer can recognize immediately that the ritual dance is one of the most complete dance forms in existence. Dance is not restricted to movements of feet or legs-but emotion is ex- pressed through movement of the entire body as a unit. Only suggestions of this styling are found in the modern ballroom dances such as Rhumba and Conga, but their antecedents are to be seen in the ritual dance which is a child of Africa. Rhythm to the Haitian is a symphony in movement involving arms, legs torso, neck, and head. Certain dances such as Mahi emphasize rapid foot motion; others such as Yanvallou interpret the writhing motions of the snake; Petro dances always have a rolling shoulder movement performed with a violent agitation of the whole body, coming close to hysteria. The fluidity of motion as a means of dance expression is the dominant feature encountered in most of Haitian dance. Ritual dances are never danced in couples, but singly. It is rather in- teresting to realize that while the dances may appear sensual, lewd, and even obscene to the North American, such is not necessarily the intent of the Haitian. Haitian peasants view our modern ballroom dance with couples close together as "shocking." It all depends upon the point of view. Not all types of Haitian dance, however, are confined to the purely ritualistic forms devoted to the loa. There are many cele- brations of a secular nature which are also observed through expressions of dance and music. The best examples of this form of dance may be seen during Carnival or during Holy Week exhaustibility of the Haitian while dancing a ritual under the spell of possession, as compared to the professional dancer trying to reproduce the dance under theatrical conditions. Very briefly summarized, Haitian ritual dance emphasizes a general participation and serves to prepare mind and body for the entrance of the Ioa, and later special participation when the gods dance. While it seems in many cases, and to unprepared spectators unfamiliar with African dancing, that the dances are sensual, erotic, and violent without the grace of the typical ballet, a trained dancer can recognize immediately that the ritual dance is one of the most complete dance forms in existence. Dance is not restricted to movements of feet or legs-but emotion is ex- pressed through movement of the entire body as a unit. Only suggestions of this styling are found in the modern ballroom dances such as Rhumba and Conga, but their antecedents are to be seen in the ritual dance which is a child of Africa. Rhythm to the Haitian is a symphony in movement involving arms, legs torso, neck, and head. Certain dances such as Mahi emphasize rapid foot motion; others such as Yanvallou interpret the writhing motions of the snake; Petro dances always have a rolling shoulder movement performed with a violent agitation of the whole body, coming close to hysteria. The fluidity of motion as a means of dance expression is the dominant feature encountered in most of Haitian dance. Ritual dances are never danced in couples, but singly. It is rather in- teresting to realize that while the dances may appear sensual, lewd, and even obscene to the North American, such is not necessarily the intent of the Haitian. Haitian peasants view our modern ballroom dance with couples close together as "shocking." It all depends upon the point of view. Not all types of Haitian dance, however, are confined to the purely ritualistic forms devoted to the loa. There are many cele- brations of a secular nature which are also observed through expressions of dance and music. The best examples of this form of dance may be seen during Carnival or during Holy Week exhaustibility of the Haitian while dancing a ritual under the spell of possession, as compared to the professional dancer trying to reproduce the dance under theatrical conditions. Very briefly summarized, Haitian ritual dance emphasizes a general participation and serves to prepare mind and body for the entrance of the loa, and later special participation when the gods dance. While it seems in many cases, and to unprepared spectators unfamiliar with African dancing, that the dances are sensual, erotic, and violent without the grace of the typical ballet, a trained dancer can recognize immediately that the ritual dance is one of the most complete dance forms in existence. Dance is not restricted to movements of feet or legs-but emotion is ex- pressed through movement of the entire body as a unit. Only suggestions of this styling are found in the modern ballroom dances such as Rhumba and Conga, but their antecedents are to be seen in the ritual dance which is a child of Africa. Rhythm to the Haitian is a symphony in movement involving arms, legs torso, neck, and head. Certain dances such as Mahi emphasize rapid foot motion; others such as Yanvallou interpret the writhing motions of the snake; Petro dances always have a rolling shoulder movement performed with a violent agitation of the whole body, coming close to hysteria. The fluidity of motion as a means of dance expression is the dominant feature encountered in most of Haitian dance. Ritual dances are never danced in couples, but singly. It is rather in- teresting to realize that while the dances may appear sensual, lewd, and even obscene to the North American, such is not necessarily the intent of the Haitian. Haitian peasants view our modern ballroom dance with couples close together as "shocking." It all depends upon the point of view. Not all types of Haitian dance, however, are confined to the purely ritualistic forms devoted to the loa. There are many cele- brations of a secular nature which are also observed through expressions of dance and music. The best examples of this form of dance may be seen during Carnival or during Holy Week  70 The Caribbean when the Rara dances are performed. The Rara is another ex- cellent example of the adaptability of the Catholic Church to the African rite, for, although Rara is celebrated in honor of Good Friday and portrays a struggle between good and evil, its manifes- tations are far from Christian. Still another group of dances is reserved for social parties known as bambouches. The country dance is entirely a social event, al- though it is often confused by tourists who think they are seeing "Voodoo." Among the most outstanding of the bambouche dances are Congo, Juba, Martinique, and others reminiscent of the French quadrilles. These dances and others which comprise this group give the individual the opportunity for exhibitionistic tech- niques in a way that ritual dance would never allow. There is never confusion between these two forms of dance, and it would be unheard of to allow ritual dance at a bambouche in exactly the same sense that jazz or boogie music is not heard in a church. In every part of the Western Hemisphere (with a possible ex- ception among the Bush Negroes of Surinam), the dance forms brought from Africa have been subject to superimposed cultural patterns from Europe. Haiti alone offers the opportunity to ob- serve nearly pure African dance styles-not as they are currently danced in Africa, but as a product of the New World almost uninfluenced by Europeans. Although from the beginning-first by the French slave own- ers and later by the Catholic Church and the aristocratic element -dance has been banned and condemned, the ritual and its expression in dance have remained as a tradition of a nation, part of a personal experience of the past, and part of the sacred bond with the ancestors. Haiti is a challenge to both the mind and body of a dancer, for to lift a corner of the veil of mysticism, superstition, and taboo which envelop the tradition of Vodoun is to catch a glimpse of a different and vital philosophy which is the soul of Haiti. 70 The Caribbean when the Rara dances are performed. The Rara is another ex- cellent example of the adaptability of the Catholic Church to the African rite, for, although Rara is celebrated in honor of Good Friday and portrays a struggle between good and evil, its manifes- tations are far from Christian. Still another group of dances is reserved for social parties known as bambouches. The country dance is entirely a social event, al- though it is often confused by tourists who think they are seeing "Voodoo." Among the most outstanding of the bambouche dances are Congo, Juba, Martinique, and others reminiscent of the French quadrilles. These dances and others which comprise this group give the individual the opportunity for exhibitionistic tech- niques in a way that ritual dance would never allow. There is never confusion between these two forms of dance, and it would be unheard of to allow ritual dance at a bambouche in exactly the same sense that jazz or boogie music is not heard in a church. In every part of the Western Hemisphere (with a possible ex- ception among the Bush Negroes of Surinam), the dance forms brought from Africa have been subject to superimposed cultural patterns from Europe. Haiti alone offers the opportunity to ob- serve nearly pure African dance styles-not as they are currently danced in Africa, but as a product of the New World almost uninfluenced by Europeans. Although from the beginning-first by the French slave own- ers and later by the Catholic Church and the aristocratic element -dance has been banned and condemned, the ritual and its expression in dance have remained as a tradition of a nation, part of a personal experience of the past, and part of the sacred bond with the ancestors. Haiti is a challenge to both the mind and body of a dancer, for to lift a corner of the veil of mysticism, superstition, and taboo which envelop the tradition of Vodoun is to catch a glimpse of a different and vital philosophy which is the soul of Haiti. 70 The Caribbean when the Rara dances are performed. The Rara is another ex- cellent example of the adaptability of the Catholic Church to the African rite, for, although Rara is celebrated in honor of Good Friday and portrays a struggle between good and evil, its manifes- tations are far from Christian. Still another group of dances is reserved for social parties known as bambouches. The country dance is entirely a social event, al- though it is often confused by tourists who think they are seeing "Voodoo." Among the most outstanding of the bambouche dances are Congo, Juba, Martinique, and others reminiscent of the French quadrilles. These dances and others which comprise this group give the individual the opportunity for exhibitionistic tech- niques in a way that ritual dance would never allow. There is never confusion between these two forms of dance, and it would be unheard of to allow ritual dance at a bambouche in exactly the same sense that jazz or boogie music is not heard in a church. In every part of the Western Hemisphere (with a possible ex- ception among the Bush Negroes of Surinam), the dance forms brought from Africa have been subject to superimposed cultural patterns from Europe. Haiti alone offers the opportunity to ob- serve nearly pure African dance styles-not as they are currently danced in Africa, but as a product of the New World almost uninfluenced by Europeans. Although from the beginning-first by the French slave own- ers and later by the Catholic Church and the aristocratic element -dance has been banned and condemned, the ritual and its expression in dance have remained as a tradition of a nation, part of a personal experience of the past, and part of the sacred bond with the ancestors. Haiti is a challenge to both the mind and body of a dancer, for to lift a corner of the veil of mysticism, superstition, and taboo which envelop the tradition of Vodoun is to catch a glimpse of a different and vital philosophy which is the soul of Haiti.  MUSIC AND DRAMA 71 MUSIC AND DRAMA 71 MUSIC AND DRAMA XI While until recently many of the dances of the Caribbean were rapidly disappearing, a new policy has been inaugurated in several countries with the aim of preserving and stimulating interest in the folk arts. In a sense, at least in some regions, the Caribbean is coming to a belated appreciation of her own contributions. Long hampered by an overwhelming sense of inferiority, repressed and frustrated by official ban and moral indignation, the peoples of the Caribbean have performed their dances secretly and kept their traditions alive. At present, however, enlightened govern- ments are making it possible for dance to be a subject of study, and are encouraging the performance and exhibition of previously prohibited dances. This is particularly true in Haiti. In Jamaica, the University College of the West Indies has done a great deal to stimulate interest in West Indian folklore. In Trinidad, private and competitive groups are using folkloric themes as inspirations for choreographic triumphs. Martinique and Guadeloupe proudly present the Beguine. The Virgin Islands have recently organized a special annual Festival to revive the dying folklore of the islands. Mexico has taken a great deal of interest in the subject and offers summer courses in the folk dances of Mexico. Venezuela has set up a special Ministry of Folklore as a testimonial to the im- portance given its own culture. Nearly every country of the Caribbean now has its folkloric society dedicated to the preserva- tion of its dance, music, and art. But these are relatively new developments, and represent in many countries an almost com- plete reversal of the previous desire to modernize and discard the remnants of their ancient cultures. To enter the dance and music world of the Caribbean is to forget the civilized and standard dance tradition, for the body and the spirit move with the beating of the drums and in rhythm to the staccato of heels. Dance is no longer the social grace of the formal salon and polite drawing room, but the expression of a people to whom the dance is the natural outlet for all emotion. XI While until recently many of the dances of the Caribbean were rapidly disappearing, a new policy has been inaugurated in several countries with the aim of preserving and stimulating interest in the folk arts. In a sense, at least in some regions, the Caribbean is coming to a belated appreciation of her own contributions. Long hampered by an overwhelming sense of inferiority, repressed and frustrated by official ban and moral indignation, the peoples of the Caribbean have performed their dances secretly and kept their traditions alive. At present, however, enlightened govern- ments are making it possible for dance to be a subject of study, and are encouraging the performance and exhibition of previously prohibited dances. This is particularly true in Haiti. In Jamaica, the University College of the West Indies has done a great deal to stimulate interest in West Indian folklore. In Trinidad, private and competitive groups are using folkloric themes as inspirations for choreographic triumphs. Martinique and Guadeloupe proudly present the Beguine. The Virgin Islands have recently organized a special annual Festival to revive the dying folklore of the islands. Mexico has taken a great deal of interest in the subject and offers summer courses in the folk dances of Mexico. Venezuela has set up a special Ministry of Folklore as a testimonial to the im- portance given its own culture. Nearly every country of the Caribbean now has its folkloric society dedicated to the preserva- tion of its dance, music, and art. But these are relatively new developments, and represent in many countries an almost com- plete reversal of the previous desire to modernize and discard the remnants of their ancient cultures. To enter the dance and music world of the Caribbean is to forget the civilized and standard dance tradition, for the body and the spirit move with the beating of the drums and in rhythm to the staccato of heels. Dance is no longer the social grace of the formal salon and polite drawing room, but the expression of a people to whom the dance is the natural outlet for all emotion. XI While until recently many of the dances of the Caribbean were rapidly disappearing, a new policy has been inaugurated in several countries with the aim of preserving and stimulating interest in the folk arts. In a sense, at least in some regions, the Caribbean is coming to a belated appreciation of her own contributions. Long hampered by an overwhelming sense of inferiority, repressed and frustrated by official ban and moral indignation, the peoples of the Caribbean have performed their dances secretly and kept their traditions alive. At present, however, enlightened govern- ments are making it possible for dance to be a subject of study, and are encouraging the performance and exhibition of previously prohibited dances. This is particularly true in Haiti. In Jamaica, the University College of the West Indies has done a great deal to stimulate interest in West Indian folklore. In Trinidad, private and competitive groups are using folkloric themes as inspirations for choreographic triumphs. Martinique and Guadeloupe proudly present the Beguine. The Virgin Islands have recently organized a special annual Festival to revive the dying folklore of the islands. Mexico has taken a great deal of interest in the subject and offers summer courses in the folk dances of Mexico. Venezuela has set up a special Ministry of Folklore as a testimonial to the im- portance given its own culture. Nearly every country of the Caribbean now has its folkloric society dedicated to the preserva- tion of its dance, music, and art. But these are relatively new developments, and represent in many countries an almost com- plete reversal of the previous desire to modernize and discard the remnants of their ancient cultures. To enter the dance and music world of the Caribbean is to forget the civilized and standard dance tradition, for the body and the spirit move with the beating of the drums and in rhythm to the staccato of heels. Dance is no longer the social grace of the formal salon and polite drawing room, but the expression of a people to whom the dance is the natural outlet for all emotion.  72 The Caribbean BIBLIOGRAPHY Almanqu de316 las d amas. Sant Juant, P.R.: 1884. Alonso,, Manuelt, A.', El Jibaro. Barcelonat,, Spain: 1849. Alvarez y Alvarezt det Is Cadena. Leyendas~ ycsttttrs. Meio O.F.: 1945. Arrelanot de Ramirez. Folkloret putsn4 3,491. Madrid: 1926. Bolitt del Intitto de Investigacionest Folkldricas, Uttiversidad Iter- americans4 (Panam 1944). Brant, Savdr La colotnit~ de Puto Rti0o. Sant Jtuatt 1930. Bureau., d'Ethnologie de la Republique, d'Haiti. Qtuelqus aspects de noire- folklore4 musical4. Port-aut-Prince, Hati: 1910. Cadilla de Matinez~, Maria. Costumttbrst y tradicionalismos, de m tierra,. 9San Juant, P.R.: 1949. --.emeorado, la~ psada her6ica. 1Sn Juan:, 1946. Cootpesm~ith, Jacob M. "Music antd Mustiians of ~te omiicant Republic," The Mutsical Quaterl,-y, XXXI, No. 1, Parts I an~d II (Jan,., 1949). Courlader~t, HarolHd. Haiti Sintgintg. Chapel Hi0l: 1939. - Ls danzas de Hit. Mexico, D.E.: 1947. Espittet, Charls S. "Trinidad's Titpa4y," Esto, I, No. 5 (Sept., 1911). Washingtn Bur,,au Hf Ethnology, 1907. C i4andgModer Meicns,"sAnuth Rort Wshinsgt:ThSmithsoniat InstitHion,, 1920. Gillmor,,, Erancs,. Dance Dramas of Mexican Villags. Tuson:t 1943. Herkovits, Melvill J. Life int a Hait Valey. Newt Yortk: 1937. Dahomety. 2 vols. Newt York: 1941. Mlyth of the Negro Pas. Newt York: 1941. Johntont, Edith. Regional Dancs of Mexic. DHIlat: 1999. v62-66. Ed., Serranot y Sanzt. Madrid: 1909. Leaf, Earl. Ilest of Rhythmt. New York: 1948. CGermatny: 1935. Murtdock, Gorgea P. Ottr Primtive' Contemttpraries. Netw York: 1934. Nolasco, Flerida de. "El C4,40i6," Boletin del F6oklor Dominticantt. Cuidad Trujillo, Junet, 1946. Orti, Fernan~do. La, ,tf,-6ctti de 9a mtica~. Haaa 1930. Lot bailes y el teto de Cuba. Havana:t 1982. dad: 1932. Oviedo y Valdes, Gonzalot Fertandez de. Hitoria gen. y ntt. de Ias indias, v1, re-edited. M1adrid: 1891. Pinkhar~d, Geortge. Nottso the Wst Indies. Lon~don: 1016. Raot y Rivera4, Luis. El Joro~po. Caracas:, 1933. - 14"ore] ens6anza de nuettstos baile IHIklidst,' Boleiin del9 Inttto, del Folor. Caraca, Nttt., 1993. Riveroll, Roberto,. Meicantt Dancest. Mexico, O.F.: 1947. 72 The Caribbean 72 The Caribbean BIBLIOGRAPHIY AIlmanaque4 de Oas dast. San Jutant, P.Rl.: 1884. Alontso, Manuetsl A., El Jibaro,. Barceonatt, Spain: 1849. Alvarezt y Alvarez de 14 Cadena. Leyentdast yotumbrest. Mexico,, D.F.: 19459. Artrelatt, de Ramirez,,. Fo~lklore- putorrt,,iqtsti. Madrd: 1926. Bolet~itt del Inttituto de Intestigaciost I%1k6r6icas, Univrsidad Iter- americans (Panamatt, 1944). Brant, Svdor. Lat colotizacitt de Pueto Rico. Sant Juan:t 1930. Bureau4 d'Ethnologie de s Repttbliqute dI'Hi. Quetlqus attpets de noire folklore musicalH. Pot-aut-Prince, Hait0 1990. Cadilla de Martitnez, Maria. Costumt~bres y tradcoai so detm t ierra4. Sat Juant, P.R.: 1945. Remeoran-4tdo la pasada h6i60. San Juantt 1946. Coopesmitth, Jacob M. "Music and Musiians Hf the Dominicant Republic," The Musical Qutertly, XXXI, No,. 1, PatI I antd II (Jant., 1945). Courladerds, Harold. Hit Singintg. Chapel 1Hil1: 1939. Derett, Ma474. Diinet Hrsement4t, tOe Liing ods of Hit. Lontdont: 1992. Dunthamt, Kathartin. hournety to Accompon4lg. Newt York: 1946. --ttLa danzas de HHiti. Mexico,, D.F.: 1947. Etpinet, Charles S. "Trinidadts Tinpty,' Etso, I, Nt. 5 (Sept., 1951). ewke-s, Jeste W. Aborigins of Puerto Ric4 and Neighboring Ilan~lds. Washingto Bureau4 40 Ethnology, 1907. Gemn, Augute. "Notestontthe Dances, Music ad Sontgsf teAnitt Intttion0, 1920. Gillmort, Frances4. Dance Dramas~ 4f Mexican Villages. Tucontt 1943. leskov4its, Melv-ille J. Lift in a Htian, Valley. Netw York:, 1937. Dahomety. 2 vo14. Newt York:, 1938. Myth of the Ner Past. New York:, 1941. Johntont, Edith. RegionaI Dancst of Mexico. Dallat: 1935. Lat Catat, Batolomtt de. Col. de diot. inid. para la his. de EtpaOa, v. 62-66. Ed., 8Srrano y 84anz. Madrid: 1909. Leaf, Earl. Itles of Rhtythmt. New Yortk: 1948. 1Leven, Svent. Origins of the Tainan4 Cuturet, Wst Indies. GHottbur~g, German4,y: 1939. Mur~dock, CGeorge P. Our, Primitivet Cotemtporaries. Netw York: 1934. Nolasco, Fletida de. "El C4146in,,6 Boletitt del Folklore Domiican4t. Cuidad Truji1lo, Juntt, 1946. Ort, ernan4do. La africattia de la mtuica. Havatta: 1950. --.Lost bailes 7 el91449r4 de Cuba. Ha4va44: 1952. Otley, C. 1R. Toba~go Legends antd West Indian Lore. Port-of-Spaitt, Trini- dad: 1952. Oviedo y Valdit, Go4z414 Ferntndez de. Hitoria gen. 7 not. de las itdias, Pinkhard, Geortge. Not ott lthe Wet Indies. Lontdon: 1816. Raont~ y Rivera, Luit. El Joropo. Caracas: 1999. - - "94611 14 enst40anza de nuttstros~ bails 00016r,0,,, 0oleti4 del IttutoO del Folklor. Caracst, Nov., 1953. Riveroldl, Roberto. M1exican Dancs. Mexico, O.F.: 1947. BIBLIOGRAPHY Almana~que die l44 damas. 844 Juan, P.R.: 1884. Aloso,, Manuel A., El Jibaro. Barcetlona, Sp4i4: 1849. Alvarez y Alvarez de 14 Cadena,. Leyttdatt y4cstumtbres. Mexico,, D.F.: Arrela,,t, de Ramirezs. Folklore puetor4,iqitO . Madrd: 1926. oletn del Inttto d Inves44tigacionest Folkldricat, Univesidad Inter- aeiaa(Panamat, 1944). Brau,, Salvador. La, colontizachm de PuetRico0. 84tt J44n: 1930. Bureau, d'Ethnologie de 14 Reputbliques d'Hi. Quetlquest aspects de noire f4969444 mus~ical. Port-au,-Prince,, Hiti: 1998. Cadilla de Martinez4, Maria. Cstumbre6s y tradiionalismos dem t ierra4. S4n Juaon, P.R.: 1948. -- .Rememoran,,,do, 94 pasada h6ica. 844 Juan:4 1946. CoopersmiHlh, Jactob M. "Muts and Mustiians 48 the omtinican Repubic," The Musica9 Quterly4I, XXXI, No,. 1, Partt I antd II (Jan,., 1945). Corladde, HrolHd. Haiti Singing. Chapel Hi0l: 1939. Deren, Maya. Diine Hrsetmen~t, thet Liing ods o1 HtOi. Lontdon: 1982. Dunhotm, Kathar~ine. Jourett o 1 Accomtpottg. New York, 1946. -- Las dattzas de Hti. Mexico, O.F.: 1947. Espin,,t, Charles S. "Trinidad's Tinpany," Eso I, No,. 5 (Sept., 1951). ewes, Jesse W. Aboriginest 41 Puerto 004o atnd Neighboring Islantds. Washington: Bureau, 40 Ethnology, 1907. Genin,Auguste. "NotsontheDancs,Musicad SontgsoftheAniet and Modertt Mexicans," Attnual Report. Wathington:, The Smithtsoniant Instton, 1920. Gillmor,, Erances. Dance4 Dramas~ of Mexican, V'illaget. Tuctson, 1943. Hrskovitt, Mel14l14 J. Life in 4 Ha40ia4 Valley. New Tok, 1937. 0464om47. 2 volt. New Tok, 1938. --lyb~tO of the Negro, Past. New TYork: 1941. Johnton, Edith. Regional9 Dattcet of Meico0. DaHIlas: 1939. Las Cass, Ba1tolott0 64. Col. dt doe. in,6d. para 94 hit. dt Espana, v62-66. Ed., 8111444 y Sanzt. Madrid: 1909. 1e40, Earl. Islet of 06y1thm. New. York: 1948. 14444, 1Sven. Origis o1 the Tainan4 Cuturet, Wett Indies. Gothenburg, Germa447 1935. Murdock, G4414e P. Our, Primtive~ Cotem4tporarie. Neot rtk, 1934. Nolasco, Flerida 64. "El C4,40i46," Botin del Folklore- Domiicanos. Cuidad Trujillo, June, 1946. Ortiz, erstando. Lat africania de 14 mtsHca. Havana: 1990. 1o4 bailes 7 49 teatro de C464. Ha4v444: 1982. Otley, C. R1. Toba4go Legendt and West Indi4an 1414. Port-of-Spaint, Trini- dad: 1992. Oviedo y Valdet, G444414 Fernandez de. Historia 444. y 441. de lat intdias, v.1, re-edited. MIadrid: 1881. Pinkhard0, G441ge. Notes ott tht West Indiet. Lon~don: 1816. 04a464 y Rivera, 1uis. El 3oropo. Caracas: 1993. 6-1- 1 14br ]a4enseanza de nuestr44 bailes fodld6,0/ Boletin del Inttitto del Folklore. Caracas, Nov., 1953. - RiollH, Roberto. M1exictt Dattces. Mexico, D.F.: 1947.  MUSIC AND DRAMA 73 Rochefrt, Charle de. History of the Caribby. Lodn 1666. Sebok Wiliam,~ B. The Magic Isad New York: 1929. Tannam Frank]. Slave, and Ciizen in the Americas. New, York: 1947. Toor~, Franc,,is. Trasr of Mexican, Fokas New York: 1947. Wiliams,, Joseph J. Voodoos and Obeahs,. Lodn 1933. MUSIC AND DRAMA 73 Rochefort, Chre de,. History of the Caribby. Lodn 1666. Seabrootk, William, B. The Magic Island. New~ York: 1929. 9Soj, Juan, Pablo. Temas,~ y apne afroIvnezoano. Caracas: 1943. Toor,, Frncs Treasury of Meia Folkwa~ys. New, York: 1947. 1940. Wiliams,, Joseph J. Voodoos, and 06,,,,. [ondo,: 1933. MUSIC AND DRAMA 73 Rochefort1, Charles, de. History of the Caribby. London:, 1666. Toor,, Francisd. Treasury of Mexican, Folkwa~ys. New,, York: 1947. 1940. WVIiiam, Joseph J. Vodoos and Obeahs. London:, 1933.  Federico de Onis: MARTI AND THE CARIBBEAN THEATRE WHEN I WAS INVITED to prepare a paper on some aspect of the theater in the Caribbean lands, I decided to examine one which might help to clarify others by lending them historic per- spective. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that the origin of the contemporary epoch in Spanish American letters is to be found-earlier and in more intrinsic and com- prehensive form-in the uniquely personal work of Jose Marti, rather than in that of any of the other so-called precursors of modernismo. There is no doubt about this being true in the case of poetry and the essay (the two most typical forms this move- ment assumed), in which Marti anticipated all others, creating ideas and forms which not only fecundated this dawning epoch of Hispanic letters, but sustained and enriched their vitality and significance after the modernist revolution and the various schools into which it crystallized had passed. Marti was more ample in scope than all these schools, and his modernity, as I have pointed out on other occasions, was of longer range than that of the other modernistas, and contained the seeds of subsequent developments in the literary field, even to our own day. The reason for this is that in the work of Marti, fragmentary and hurried as it was, there was always balance between the expression of his subjective Federico de Onis: MARTI AND THE CARIBBEAN THEATRE WHEN I WAS INVITED to prepare a paper on some aspect of the theater in the Caribbean lands, I decided to examine one which might help to clarify others by lending them historic per- spective. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that the origin of the contemporary epoch in Spanish American letters is to be found-earlier and in more intrinsic and com- prehensive form-in the uniquely personal work of Jose Marti, rather than in that of any of the other so-called precursors of modernismo. There is no doubt about this being true in the case of poetry and the essay (the two most typical forms this move- ment assumed), in which Marti anticipated all others, creating ideas and forms which not only fecundated this dawning epoch of Hispanic letters, but sustained and enriched their vitality and significance after the modernist revolution and the various schools into which it crystallized had passed. Marti was more ample in scope than all these schools, and his modernity, as I have pointed out on other occasions, was of longer range than that of the other modernistas, and contained the seeds of subsequent developments in the literary field, even to our own day. The reason for this is that in the work of Marti, fragmentary and hurried as it was, there was always balance between the expression of his subjective 74 Federico de Onis: MARTI AND THE CARIBBEAN THEATRE WHEN I WAS INVITED to prepare a paper on some aspect of the theater in the Caribbean lands, I decided to examine one which might help to clarify others by lending them historic per- spective. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that the origin of the contemporary epoch in Spanish American letters is to be found-earlier and in more intrinsic and com- prehensive form-in the uniquely personal work of Jose Marti, rather than in that of any of the other so-called precursors of modernismo. There is no doubt about this being true in the case of poetry and the essay (the two most typical forms this move- ment assumed), in which Marti anticipated all others, creating ideas and forms which not only fecundated this dawning epoch of Hispanic letters, but sustained and enriched their vitality and significance after the modernist revolution and the various schools into which it crystallized had passed. Marti was more ample in scope than all these schools, and his modernity, as I have pointed out on other occasions, was of longer range than that of the other modernistas, and contained the seeds of subsequent developments in the literary field, even to our own day. The reason for this is that in the work of Marti, fragmentary and hurried as it was, there was always balance between the expression of his subjective 74  MUSIC AND DRAMA 75 MUSIC AND DRAMA 75 MUSIC AND DRAMA 75 and stylistic individualism and his objective vision of America, which the others lacked. This, which is manifest so far as the essay and poetry are con- cerned, is not so clear as regards the novel, and, even less, the drama. It is idle to seek masterpieces in these forms in the work of Marti; but we must bear in mind that in America the novel, and still less the drama, never attained the development that poetry, the essay, and political or historical literature achieved. My reference to America includes the whole continent, and, there- fore, the literature of the United States and Brazil as well as that of Spanish America. This parallelism or coincidence can be ex- plained only by the fact that the social conditions of America were not conducive to the development of the novel and the drama. The modern novel and drama were the final literary forms to develop in Europe, precisely in countries such as Spain, England, and France, which in the sixteenth century became nations in the modern conception of the term, that is to say, unified in language, culture, life, and spirit. The Spanish novel of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries -with which, in spite of all prohibitions, as Irving A. Leonard has shown, America was familiar from the days of the Conquest to the Independence-failed to exert any considerable influence on the colonial literature of Spanish America, whereas poetry bore fruits which revealed complete assimilation and, at times, superior originality. Not until the nineteenth century, with the advent of romanticism, was the novel cultivated; and it produced certain estimable fruits, though they were sporadic and tardy. Romanticism was still in force in 1870, and when after 1880 the modernista revolution took place, which gave Spanish Ameri- can literature its independence and brought it into step with Europe, this meant, as far as the novel was concerned, the in- troduction and triumph of realism and naturalism at the very moment that Marti, Guitrrez NAjera, and Ruben Dario were launching in their short stories the new modernista prose- precious, lyrical, and antirealistic. Only when modernismo had and stylistic individualism and his objective vision of America, which the others lacked. This, which is manifest so far as the essay and poetry are con- cerned, is not so clear as regards the novel, and, even less, the drama. It is idle to seek masterpieces in these forms in the work of Marti; but we must bear in mind that in America the novel, and still less the drama, never attained the development that poetry, the essay, and political or historical literature achieved. My reference to America includes the whole continent, and, there- fore, the literature of the United States and Brazil as well as that of Spanish America. This parallelism or coincidence can be ex- plained only by the fact that the social conditions of America were not conducive to the development of the novel and the drama. The modern novel and drama were the final literary forms to develop in Europe, precisely in countries such as Spain, England, and France, which in the sixteenth century became nations in the modem conception of the term, that is to say, unified in language, culture, life, and spirit. The Spanish novel of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries -with which, in spite of all prohibitions, as Irving A. Leonard has shown, America was familiar from the days of the Conquest to the Independence-failed to exert any considerable influence on the colonial literature of Spanish America, whereas poetry bore fruits which revealed complete assimilation and, at times, superior originality. Not until the nineteenth century, with the advent of romanticism, was the novel cultivated; and it produced certain estimable fruits, though they were sporadic and tardy. Romanticism was still in force in 1870, and when after 1880 the modernista revolution took place, which gave Spanish Ameri- can literature its independence and brought it into step with Europe, this meant, as far as the novel was concerned, the in- troduction and triumph of realism and naturalism at the very moment that Marti, Guiterrez Nijera, and Ruben Dario were launching in their short stories the new modernista prose- precious, lyrical, and antirealistic. Only when modernismo had and stylistic individualism and his objective vision of America, which the others lacked. This, which is manifest so far as the essay and poetry are con- cerned, is not so clear as regards the novel, and, even less, the drama. It is idle to seek masterpieces in these forms in the work of Marti; but we must bear in mind that in America the novel, and still less the drama, never attained the development that poetry, the essay, and political or historical literature achieved. My reference to America includes the whole continent, and, there- fore, the literature of the United States and Brazil as well as that of Spanish America. This parallelism or coincidence can be ex- plained only by the fact that the social conditions of America were not conducive to the development of the novel and the drama. The modern novel and drama were the final literary forms to develop in Europe, precisely in countries such as Spain, England, and France, which in the sixteenth century became nations in the modern conception of the term, that is to say, unified in language, culture, life, and spirit. The Spanish novel of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries -with which, in spite of all prohibitions, as Irving A. Leonard has shown, America was familiar from the days of the Conquest to the Independence-failed to exert any considerable influence on the colonial literature of Spanish America, whereas poetry bore fruits which revealed complete assimilation and, at times, superior originality. Not until the nineteenth century, with the advent of romanticism, was the novel cultivated; and it produced certain estimable fruits, though they were sporadic and tardy. Romanticism was still in force in 1870, and when after 1880 the modernista revolution took place, which gave Spanish Ameri- can literature its independence and brought it into step with Europe, this meant, as far as the novel was concerned, the in- troduction and triumph of realism and naturalism at the very moment that Marti, Guitdrrez Ndjera, and Ruben Dario were launching in their short stories the new modernista prose- precious, lyrical, and antirealistic. Only when modernismo had  76 The Caribbean run its course, that is to say, in our own day, did the novel in Spanish America achieve equal or superior value to that of other forms. The contemporary novel, in which the Spanish Americans have finally discovered their own originality in their land and people, is foreshadowed in Marti, not in novels, which he did not write, but in his diaries, descriptions of historic scenes, and pen portraits, in which he describes the land and the people of the Caribbean, making them speak in their own language, rather than in the manner of the costumbristas and realists of the nineteenth century, who were pursuing the picturesque and unusual, but seeking out in the folk and the land the basic identity of his individual soul with that of America. In the drama-a form which, if it is to achieve the status of art, requires a unified society which shall not only serve its author as the material and model of his creations, but act as his collaborator through the performance, which calls for stage, actors, and audience-progress has been much slower and the results more negative. There has been theater in America since the Conquest and even before. Marti, whose passion for the Indians of America led him, a Cuban born of Spanish parents, to feel that Indian blood ran in his veins, wrote about El gregience, an Indo-Spanish com- edy of Nicaragua, which contained vestiges of performance with Indian music and dances; and he spoke of other dramatic works in the native tongues, which had been preserved and utilized by the Spanish missionaries. The traditional and folk theater of Spain still lives on in the folklore of Spanish America. The fa- mous plays of the classical Spanish theater were staged at the sumptuous festivals held in the cities of the colony. From the eighteenth century, there were theaters all the way from Mexico to Buenos Aires in which neoclassic, romantic, and later dramas of the nineteenth century were in turn presented by the theatrical troupes-Spanish for the most part-which kept the American 76 The Caribbean 76 The Caribbean run its course, that is to say, in our own day, did the novel in Spanish America achieve equal or superior value to that of other forms. The contemporary novel, in which the Spanish Americans have finally discovered their own originality in their land and people, is foreshadowed in Marti, not in novels, which he did not write, but in his diaries, descriptions of historic scenes, and pen portraits, in which he describes the land and the people of the Caribbean, making them speak in their own language, rather than in the manner of the costumbristas and realists of the nineteenth century, who were pursuing the picturesque and unusual, but seeking out in the folk and the land the basic identity of his individual soul with that of America. In the drama-a form which, if it is to achieve the status of art, requires a unified society which shall not only serve its author as the material and model of his creations, but act as his collaborator through the performance, which calls for stage, actors, and audience-progress has been much slower and the results more negative. There has been theater in America since the Conquest and even before. Marti, whose passion for the Indians of America led him, a Cuban born of Spanish parents, to feel that Indian blood ran in his veins, wrote about El greguence, an Indo-Spanish com- edy of Nicaragua, which contained vestiges of performance with Indian music and dances; and he spoke of other dramatic works in the native tongues, which had been preserved and utilized by the Spanish missionaries. The traditional and folk theater of Spain still lives on in the folklore of Spanish America. The fa- mous plays of the classical Spanish theater were staged at the sumptuous festivals held in the cities of the colony. From the eighteenth century, there were theaters all the way from Mexico to Buenos Aires in which neoclassic, romantic, and later dramas of the nineteenth century were in turn presented by the theatrical troupes-Spanish for the most part-which kept the American run its course, that is to say, in our own day, did the novel in Spanish America achieve equal or superior value to that of other forms. The contemporary novel, in which the Spanish Americans have finally discovered their own originality in their land and people, is foreshadowed in Marti, not in novels, which he did not write, but in his diaries, descriptions of historic scenes, and pen portraits, in which he describes the land and the people of the Caribbean, making them speak in their own language, rather than in the manner of the costumbristas and realists of the nineteenth century, who were pursuing the picturesque and unusual, but seeking out in the folk and the land the basic identity of his individual soul with that of America. In the drama-a form which, if it is to achieve the status of art, requires a unified society which shall not only serve its author as the material and model of his creations, but act as his collaborator through the performance, which calls for stage, actors, and audience-progress has been much slower and the results more negative. There has been theater in America since the Conquest and even before. Marti, whose passion for the Indians of America led him, a Cuban born of Spanish parents, to feel that Indian blood ran in his veins, wrote about El greguence, an Indo-Spanish com- edy of Nicaragua, which contained vestiges of performance with Indian music and dances; and he spoke of other dramatic works in the native tongues, which had been preserved and utilized by the Spanish missionaries. The traditional and folk theater of Spain still lives on in the folklore of Spanish America. The fa- mous plays of the classical Spanish theater were staged at the sumptuous festivals held in the cities of the colony. From the eighteenth century, there were theaters all the way from Mexico to Buenos Aires in which neoclassic, romantic, and later dramas of the nineteenth century were in turn presented by the theatrical troupes-Spanish for the most part-which kept the American  MUSIC AND DRAMA 77 public in touch with the drama of Spain and Europe. Neverthe- less, an American theater never developed, even though there were dramatists in the various epochs who wrote and staged plays -occasionally of merit-within the framework of European in- fluence. The only American dramatist of universal fame is the Mexican Juan Ruiz de Alarctn, whose work was written in Madrid and belongs to the Spanish classical theater and to that of Europe -though with a character of its own, revealing his peculiar temperament, undoubtedly Mexican. And, during the nineteenth century, there were other American authors who became incorpo- rated into the Spanish theater, such as the Mexican Gorostiza, the Cuban Gertrudis Gdmez de Avellaneda, and the Argentinian Ventura de la Vega. The manifest inability to create an original American theater is not due to a lack of dramatic writers, but, as we pointed out above, to the absence of a compact, unified society. Marti was aware of this when he wrote that dramatic literature "requires complex emo- tions and a varied social structure of which it is the product and the copy. . . . Literature is but the expression and form of the life of a people, in which both its spiritual nature as well as the pe- culiar natural conditions which affect it and those of the artificial objects on which it acts, and even the garb it assumes, are as though reflected and contained in it." "The theater, if it is to have value and endure, must always be the mirror of the period which produces it." And he asks himself, with Mexico in mind, "Is the present epoch of Mexico completely Mexican? Without a society wholly its own, can there be a comic theater reflecting a body which does not exist? That which is in itself motley of nature cannot cast an original reflection." "Can a people perchance live without a society of its own?" II Marti, who dedicated himself to "the revelation, the arousing, the urgent upbuilding of America," was concerned all his life with this problem of the theater and the need for its creation. As MUSIC AND DRAMA 77 public in touch with the drama of Spain and Europe. Neverthe- less, an American theater never developed, even though there were dramatists in the various epochs who wrote and staged plays -occasionally of merit-within the framework of European in- fluence. The only American dramatist of universal fame is the Mexican Juan Ruiz de Alarcon, whose work was written in Madrid and belongs to the Spanish classical theater and to that of Europe -though with a character of its own, revealing his peculiar temperament, undoubtedly Mexican. And, during the nineteenth century, there were other American authors who became incorpo- rated into the Spanish theater, such as the Mexican Gorostiza, the Cuban Gertrudis Gomez de Avellaneda, and the Argentinian Ventura de la Vega. The manifest inability to create an original American theater is not due to a lack of dramatic writers, but, as we pointed out above, to the absence of a compact, unified society. Marti was aware of this when he wrote that dramatic literature "requires complex emo- tions and a varied social structure of which it is the product and the copy. . . . Literature is but the expression and form of the life of a people, in which both its spiritual nature as well as the pe- culiar natural conditions which affect it and those of the artificial objects on which it acts, and even the garb it assumes, are as though reflected and contained in it." "The theater, if it is to have value and endure, must always be the mirror of the period which produces it." And he asks himself, with Mexico in mind, "Is the present epoch of Mexico completely Mexican? Without a society wholly its own, can there be a comic theater reflecting a body which does not exist? That which is in itself motley of nature cannot cast an original reflection." "Can a people perchance live without a society of its own?" II Marti, who dedicated himself to "the revelation, the arousing, the urgent upbuilding of America," was concerned all his life with this problem of the theater and the need for its creation. As MUSIC AND DRAMA 77 public in touch with the drama of Spain and Europe. Neverthe- less, an American theater never developed, even though there were dramatists in the various epochs who wrote and staged plays -occasionally of merit-within the framework of European in- fluence. The only American dramatist of universal fame is the Mexican Juan Ruiz de Alarcon, whose work was written in Madrid and belongs to the Spanish classical theater and to that of Europe -though with a character of its own, revealing his peculiar temperament, undoubtedly Mexican. And, during the nineteenth century, there were other American authors who became incorpo- rated into the Spanish theater, such as the Mexican Gorostiza, the Cuban Gertrudis GOmez de Avellaneda, and the Argentinian Ventura de la Vega. The manifest inability to create an original American theater is not due to a lack of dramatic writers, but, as we pointed out above, to the absence of a compact, unified society. Marti was aware of this when he wrote that dramatic literature "requires complex emo- tions and a varied social structure of which it is the product and the copy.... Literature is but the expression and form of the life of a people, in which both its spiritual nature as well as the pe- culiar natural conditions which affect it and those of the artificial objects on which it acts, and even the garb it assumes, are as though reflected and contained in it." "The theater, if it is to have value and endure, must always be the mirror of the period which produces it." And he asks himself, with Mexico in mind, "Is the present epoch of Mexico completely Mexican? Without a society wholly its own, can there be a comic theater reflecting a body which does not exist? That which is in itself motley of nature cannot cast an original reflection." "Can a people perchance live without a society of its own?" II Marti, who dedicated himself to "the revelation, the arousing, the urgent upbuilding of America," was concerned all his life with this problem of the theater and the need for its creation. As  78 The Caribbean 78 The Caribbean 78 The Caribbean he, above all others, is the man of the Caribbean, everything he thought and did in this sense has as its focus and objective the land surrounding this sea, which was the setting for most of his life. To be sure, his thought and actions had universal implica- tions, but in this, as in all his other activities, his spirit and his life move within the triangle of Spain, Spanish America, and the United States, whose point of confluence is the Caribbean. Mex- ico, Guatemala, Venezuela, and the United States were his suc- cessive homelands, with Cuba, his land of birth, as the center. In all these countries, he gave thought to the theater, took a keen interest in the theater that was evolving, in its authors, actors, and public; and he has left us his criticism, more valuable and enduring than the incidental dramatic works he wrote, which we shall merely mention in passing. The first, written before he left Cuba, when he was sixteen, the dramatic poem Abdala, voices his Cuban patriotism in the symbolic terms of romanticism. The second, which he wrote in Spain, is a prose work in three acts entitled Addltera, which deals with a universal moral problem. These two youthful efforts were followed, shortly after his return to America, by two new dramatic endeavors: his last one written in Mexico in 1875, a beautiful dialogue in verse Amor con amor se paga, which in its brevity and simplicity is an earnest of Marti's style, at once classic and modern; and the other, written in Guate- mala in 1877, preserved only in fragmentary form. This latter, which has a completely American theme, and which has to do with Morazin and the independence of Central America, is the dramatized version of Marti's concept of America. He never again wrote for the theater, though he never abandoned the idea, as witness his reference to "nuclei of dramas" which he never fin- ished. The diversity of his youthful experiments is proof of his hesitation where the theater was concerned; from his criticism, it is evident that he considered the problem urgent and necessary, but in dealing with it he lacked the assurance and fullness his other writings reveal. he, above all others, is the man of the Caribbean, everything he thought and did in this sense has as its focus and objective the land surrounding this sea, which was the setting for most of his life. To be sure, his thought and actions had universal implica- tions, but in this, as in all his other activities, his spirit and his life move within the triangle of Spain, Spanish America, and the United States, whose point of confluence is the Caribbean. Mex- ico, Guatemala, Venezuela, and the United States were his suc- cessive homelands, with Cuba, his land of birth, as the center. In all these countries, he gave thought to the theater, took a keen interest in the theater that was evolving, in its authors, actors, and public; and he has left us his criticism, more valuable and enduring than the incidental dramatic works he wrote, which we shall merely mention in passing. The first, written before he left Cuba, when he was sixteen, the dramatic poem Abdala, voices his Cuban patriotism in the symbolic terms of romanticism. The second, which he wrote in Spain, is a prose work in three acts entitled Adiltera, which deals with a universal moral problem. These two youthful efforts were followed, shortly after his return to America, by two new dramatic endeavors: his last one written in Mexico in 1875, a beautiful dialogue in verse Amor con amor se paga, which in its brevity and simplicity is an earnest of Marti's style, at once classic and modern; and the other, written in Guate- mala in 1877, preserved only in fragmentary form. This latter, which has a completely American theme, and which has to do with Morazn and the independence of Central America, is the dramatized version of Marti's concept of America. He never again wrote for the theater, though he never abandoned the idea, as witness his reference to "nuclei of dramas" which he never fin- ished. The diversity of his youthful experiments is proof of his hesitation where the theater was concerned; from his criticism, it is evident that he considered the problem urgent and necessary, but in dealing with it he lacked the assurance and fullness his other writings reveal. he, above all others, is the man of the Caribbean, everything he thought and did in this sense has as its focus and objective the land surrounding this sea, which was the setting for most of his life. To be sure, his thought and actions had universal implica- tions, but in this, as in all his other activities, his spirit and his life move within the triangle of Spain, Spanish America, and the United States, whose point of confluence is the Caribbean. Mex- ico, Guatemala, Venezuela, and the United States were his suc- cessive homelands, with Cuba, his land of birth, as the center. In all these countries, he gave thought to the theater, took a keen interest in the theater that was evolving, in its authors, actors, and public; and he has left us his criticism, more valuable and enduring than the incidental dramatic works he wrote, which we shall merely mention in passing. The first, written before he left Cuba, when he was sixteen, the dramatic poem Abdala, voices his Cuban patriotism in the symbolic terms of romanticism. The second, which he wrote in Spain, is a prose work in three acts entitled Adiltera, which deals with a universal moral problem. These two youthful efforts were followed, shortly after his return to America, by two new dramatic endeavors: his last one written in Mexico in 1875, a beautiful dialogue in verse Amor con amor se paga, which in its brevity and simplicity is an earnest of Marti's style, at once classic and modern; and the other, written in Guate- mala in 1877, preserved only in fragmentary form. This latter, which has a completely American theme, and which has to do with Morazin and the independence of Central America, is the dramatized version of Marti's concept of America. He never again wrote for the theater, though he never abandoned the idea, as witness his reference to "nuclei of dramas" which he never fin- ished. The diversity of his youthful experiments is proof of his hesitation where the theater was concerned; from his criticism, it is evident that he considered the problem urgent and necessary, but in dealing with it he lacked the assurance and fullness his other writings reveal.  MUSIC AND DRAMA 79 MUSIC AND DRAMA 79 MUSIC AND DRAMA 79 III In his generosity toward everything American he never with- held praise from the efforts, both contemporary and bygone, in the dramatic field; but he always praised with reservations, born of his intuition of what remained to be done, which was nothing less than the creation of an original American theater. In 1878 he said in Guatemala: "This rich field has not lain fallow, nor is the American stage bare," and he pointed out the conglomerate attempts to develop the drama in those nations "spiritually mold- ed by so many contradictory reminiscences, impulses, grandeurs, trivia, and readings." He quoted names and titles from the romantic and realist theater of Cuba, Santo Domingo, Mexico, Colombia: Anacaona, Tilema, Celiar; Heredia, Milanes, Urzais, Acha, Calderon, Peon Contreras, Segura, Salaverry, Corpancho; but all this was only intended to emphasize a different theater, unborn as yet, the theater which Marti foresaw in the future as "a powerful national theater"-"a new theater which will bring fire and warmth, for it is the destiny of America to vivify and warm everything, to the wearied imagination of Europe." With his American imagination, Marti dreamed of "the vigorous theater" which "could arise from the rich veins of inspiration which lie almost intact in the history of the long infancy and the harried vouth of America." In Mexico, where, then as now, there was great theatrical activity within the European canons, he never wearied of giving his Mexican friends the loving advice which characterized his whole attitude toward the general problem of America: "Youth is a period of creation. Not of adaptation, but of innovation. Mediocrity copies, originality dares." "A new people requires a new literature. This exuberant life should reveal itself in a man- ner of its own. These new traits call for a special theater." "What the peoples who inhabit our continent need in the theater are not servile copies of exhausted models but the burgeoning forth of new types." "Mexico needs a Mexican literature. If Mexico lacks III In his generosity toward everything American he never with- held praise from the efforts, both contemporary and bygone, in the dramatic field; but he always praised with reservations, born of his intuition of what remained to be done, which was nothing less than the creation of an original American theater. In 1878 he said in Guatemala: "This rich field has not lain fallow, nor is the American stage bare," and he pointed out the conglomerate attempts to develop the drama in those nations "spiritually mold- ed by so many contradictory reminiscences, impulses, grandeurs, trivia, and readings." He quoted names and titles from the romantic and realist theater of Cuba, Santo Domingo, Mexico, Colombia: Anacaona, Tilema, Celiar; Heredia, Milanes, Urzais, AchA, Calderon, Peon Contreras, Segura, Salaverry, Corpancho; but all this was only intended to emphasize a different theater, unborn as yet, the theater which Marti foresaw in the future as "a powerful national theater"-"a new theater which will bring fire and warmth, for it is the destiny of America to vivify and warm everything, to the wearied imagination of Europe." With his American imagination, Marti dreamed of "the vigorous theater" which "could arise from the rich veins of inspiration which lie almost intact in the history of the long infancy and the harried youth of America." In Mexico, where, then as now, there was great theatrical activity within the European canons, he never wearied of giving his Mexican friends the loving advice which characterized his whole attitude toward the general problem of America: "Youth is a period of creation. Not of adaptation, but of innovation. Mediocrity copies, originality dares." "A new people requires a new literature. This exuberant life should reveal itself in a man- ner of its own. These new traits call for a special theater." "What the peoples who inhabit our continent need in the theater are not servile copies of exhausted models but the burgeoning forth of new types." "Mexico needs a Mexican literature. If Mexico lacks III In his generosity toward everything American he never with- held praise from the efforts, both contemporary and bygone, in the dramatic field; but he always praised with reservations, born of his intuition of what remained to be done, which was nothing less than the creation of an original American theater. In 1878 he said in Guatemala: "This rich field has not lain fallow, nor is the American stage bare," and he pointed out the conglomerate attempts to develop the drama in those nations "spiritually mold- ed by so many contradictory reminiscences, impulses, grandeurs, trivia, and readings." He quoted names and titles from the romantic and realist theater of Cuba, Santo Domingo, Mexico, Colombia: Anacaona, Tilema, Celiar; Heredia, Milanes, Urzais, Achs, Caldern, Pen Contreras, Segura, Salaverry, Corpancho; but all this was only intended to emphasize a different theater, unborn as yet, the theater which Marti foresaw in the future as "a powerful national theater"-"a new theater which will bring fire and warmth, for it is the destiny of America to vivify and warm everything, to the wearied imagination of Europe." With his American imagination, Marti dreamed of "the vigorous theater" which "could arise from the rich veins of inspiration which lie almost intact in the history of the long infancy and the harried youth of America." In Mexico, where, then as now, there was great theatrical activity within the European canons, he never wearied of giving his Mexican friends the loving advice which characterized his whole attitude toward the general problem of America: "Youth is a period of creation. Not of adaptation, but of innovation. Mediocrity copies, originality dares." "A new people requires a new literature. This exuberant life should reveal itself in a man- ner of its own. These new traits call for a special theater." "What the peoples who inhabit our continent need in the theater are not servile copies of exhausted models but the burgeoning forth of new types." "Mexico needs a Mexican literature. If Mexico lacks  80 The Caribbean actors of its own this is the natural consequence of the limitation and indifference of its own authors. The independence of the theater is one more step along the road of national independence. How can a nation that subscribes to and endures the repulsive faltering and shabbiness of an outworn life not its own, hope to have its own proud life?" "Literature is the beautiful form of nations. In new nations it is a fundamental law that a new litera- ture shall arise." "The theater is copy and outgrowth of a people. A people who would be new must produce an original theater." "It is irritating to see a new people rich in fecund creative in- telligences cling servilely to a worn and dingy theater. Mexico has its own life; let it have its own theater. Every nation should have its own special character: can there be a national life with- out a literature of its own? What life can there be for gifted native sons on a stage always occupied by weak or repulsive for- eign puppets? Why should the old life of Europe be lived on American soil?" And to the Cubans he said in 1892: "In the theater, as in everything else, we can create in Cuba. The theater lives by history, and we have ours, of such absolute and virile grandeur, that our theater can show itself beautiful, if we do not insist on wrapping our heroes in winding sheets of bullfighters' capes, if we do not trap out the Cuban soul in borrowed jacket and cap, if we do not pour our free soul into the foreign molds which smother it." IV Marti's insistence on the cultivation of the American does not mean, even though it might so appear, the negation of the Euro- pean. Many of his pages are devoted to the theater of Spain, old and modern, and of England and France. He believed that a knowledge of Europe was indispensable, but only after first at- tuning the heart to America, shunning slavish imitation, the breathless awaiting of "the mails from Europe to learn the latest novelty in thinking" like "almsbeggars of foreign literatures, struggling in vain to squeeze the Creole soul into an exotic mold." 80 The Caribbean 80 The Caribbean actors of its own this is the natural consequence of the limitation and indifference of its own authors. The independence of the theater is one more step along the road of national independence. How can a nation that subscribes to and endures the repulsive faltering and shabbiness of an outworn life not its own, hope to have its own proud life?" "Literature is the beautiful form of nations. In new nations it is a fundamental law that a new litera- ture shall arise." "The theater is copy and outgrowth of a people. A people who would be new must produce an original theater." "It is irritating to see a new people rich in fecund creative in- telligences cling servilely to a worn and dingy theater. Mexico has its own life; let it have its own theater. Every nation should have its own special character: can there be a national life with- out a literature of its own? What life can there be for gifted native sons on a stage always occupied by weak or repulsive for- eign puppets? Why should the old life of Europe be lived on American soil?" And to the Cubans he said in 1892: "In the theater, as in everything else, we can create in Cuba. The theater lives by history, and we have ours, of such absolute and virile grandeur, that our theater can show itself beautiful, if we do not insist on wrapping our heroes in winding sheets of bullfighters' capes, if we do not trap out the Cuban soul in borrowed jacket and cap, if we do not pour our free soul into the foreign molds which smother it." IV Marti's insistence on the cultivation of the American does not mean, even though it might so appear, the negation of the Euro- pean. Many of his pages are devoted to the theater of Spain, old and modern, and of England and France. He believed that a knowledge of Europe was indispensable, but only after first at- tuning the heart to America, shunning slavish imitation, the breathless awaiting of "the mails from Europe to learn the latest novelty in thinking" like "almsbeggars of foreign literatures, struggling in vain to squeeze the Creole soul into an exotic mold." actors of its own this is the natural consequence of the limitation and indifference of its own authors. The independence of the theater is one more step along the road of national independence. How can a nation that subscribes to and endures the repulsive faltering and shabbiness of an outworn life not its own, hope to have its own proud life?" "Literature is the beautiful form of nations. In new nations it is a fundamental law that a new litera- ture shall arise." "The theater is copy and outgrowth of a people. A people who would be new must produce an original theater." "It is irritating to see a new people rich in fecund creative in- telligences cling servilely to a worn and dingy theater. Mexico has its own life; let it have its own theater. Every nation should have its own special character: can there be a national life with- out a literature of its own? What life can there be for gifted native sons on a stage always occupied by weak or repulsive for- eign puppets? Why should the old life of Europe be lived on American soil?" And to the Cubans he said in 1892: "In the theater, as in everything else, we can create in Cuba. The theater lives by history, and we have ours, of such absolute and virile grandeur, that our theater can show itself beautiful, if we do not insist on wrapping our heroes in winding sheets of bullfighters' capes, if we do not trap out the Cuban soul in borrowed jacket and cap, if we do not pour our free soul into the foreign molds which smother it." IV Marti's insistence on the cultivation of the American does not mean, even though it might so appear, the negation of the Euro- pean. Many of his pages are devoted to the theater of Spain, old and modern, and of England and France. He believed that a knowledge of Europe was indispensable, but only after first at- tuning the heart to America, shunning slavish imitation, the breathless awaiting of "the mails from Europe to learn the latest novelty in thinking" like "almsbeggars of foreign literatures, struggling in vain to squeeze the Creole soul into an exotic mold."  MUSIC AND DRAMA 81 MUSIC AND DRAMA 81 MUSIC AND DRAMA To do this, "to scorn the native sun and seek the rays of the old sun of Europe is tantamount to apostasy." This was the unerring passion of his whole life, the force which made him the last liberator, not only of Cuba, but of the spirit of America. Nor did he see the task as easy, for he said: "The problem of America is new and more difficult than any other, for it consists in swiftly soldering-a process that cannot but be violent-the extremes of civilization which in all the other regions of the earth has come about gradually." And when he specifically censured the Mexican dramatists for the "unforgive- able apathy" with which they eluded "the creation of a theater of their own, copy, analysis and guide of the peculiar natural setting in which they live," he was forced to admit that "it is not an easy task to work toward a dramatic literature in Mexico." V Seventy or eighty years have elapsed since Marti pointed out the unerring road to America's independence in literature. With his words he was sowing the seeds that would bear fruit in the great revolution known in Spanish America as modernismo, which spelled the true literary independence of this part of America and the beginning of a new epoch in which, as we pointed out before, the new originality gradually found expression in diverse literary forms including, though belatedly, the novel. As for the theater, which we are examining here, the situation, particularly in the Caribbean, is not so clear and would seem to continue as problematical as in Mart's day. It is true that in the River Plate region, through a complex process involving the collaboration of authors, actors, and public, a national theater developed which culminated in Florencio Sanchez; while at the other extreme of the continent, in the United States, an original theater has grown up, culminating in Eugene O'Neill. These authors have their permanent place in literary history, thanks to the fact that there is to be found in them that national quality which Marti insisted upon. To do this, "to scorn the native sun and seek the rays of the old sun of Europe is tantamount to apostasy." This was the unerring passion of his whole life, the force which made him the last liberator, not only of Cuba, but of the spirit of America. Nor did he see the task as easy, for he said: "The problem of America is new and more difficult than any other, for it consists in swiftly soldering-a process that cannot but be violent-the extremes of civilization which in all the other regions of the earth has come about gradually." And when he specifically censured the Mexican dramatists for the "unforgive- able apathy" with which they eluded "the creation of a theater of their own, copy, analysis and guide of the peculiar natural setting in which they live," he was forced to admit that "it is not an easy task to work toward a dramatic literature in Mexico." V Seventy or eighty years have elapsed since Marti pointed out the unerring road to America's independence in literature. With his words he was sowing the seeds that would bear fruit in the great revolution known in Spanish America as modernismo, which spelled the true literary independence of this part of America and the beginning of a new epoch in which, as we pointed out before, the new originality gradually found expression in diverse literary forms including, though belatedly, the novel. As for the theater, which we are examining here, the situation, particularly in the Caribbean, is not so clear and would seem to continue as problematical as in Marti's day. It is true that in the River Plate region, through a complex process involving the collaboration of authors, actors, and public, a national theater developed which culminated in Florencio Sanchez; while at the other extreme of the continent, in the United States, an original theater has grown up, culminating in Eugene O'Neill. These authors have their permanent place in literary history, thanks to the fact that there is to be found in them that national quality which Marti insisted upon. To do this, "to scorn the native sun and seek the rays of the old sun of Europe is tantamount to apostasy." This was the unerring passion of his whole life, the force which made him the last liberator, not only of Cuba, but of the spirit of America. Nor did he see the task as easy, for he said: "The problem of America is new and more difficult than any other, for it consists in swiftly soldering-a process that cannot but be violent-the extremes of civilization which in all the other regions of the earth has come about gradually." And when he specifically censured the Mexican dramatists for the "unforgive- able apathy" with which they eluded "the creation of a theater of their own, copy, analysis and guide of the peculiar natural setting in which they live," he was forced to admit that "it is not an easy task to work toward a dramatic literature in Mexico." V Seventy or eighty years have elapsed since Marti pointed out the unerring road to America's independence in literature. With his words he was sowing the seeds that would bear fruit in the great revolution known in Spanish America as modernismo, which spelled the true literary independence of this part of America and the beginning of a new epoch in which, as we pointed out before, the new originality gradually found expression in diverse literary forms including, though belatedly, the novel. As for the theater, which we are examining here, the situation, particularly in the Caribbean, is not so clear and would seem to continue as problematical as in Marti's day. It is true that in the River Plate region, through a complex process involving the collaboration of authors, actors, and public, a national theater developed which culminated in Florencio Sanchez; while at the other extreme of the continent, in the United States, an original theater has grown up, culminating in Eugene O'Neill. These authors have their permanent place in literary history, thanks to the fact that there is to be found in them that national quality which Marti insisted upon.  82 The Caribbean In the other countries, especially in those of the Caribbean, there has been great dramatic activity during the years that have elapsed of the twentieth century; but if we are to accept the word of the outstanding figure among all the present-day writers for the theater, Rodolfo Usigli, the situation in Mexico is the same today as when Marti was writing. In words that recall Marti, Usigli says: In Mexico "we have not as yet the physical mediums- theater, actors, public-to make such a dream reality." "A peo- ple, a national consciousness, are things of slow formation, and, in my opinion, the consciousness and the truth of a people resides in the theater." And in still more absolute form, he says: "The light of day tells me, after a life devoted to the theater, that Mex- ico is a country without theater, probably without the impulse toward the theater, still as distant from a living, vital theater as from another continent or another world." And he bitterly wrote to George Bernard Shaw: "I am a playwright in a desert." Never- theless, like Marti, he dreams of the possibility of a Mexican theater and in his "first attempt at a Mexican tragedy" he con- cludes with these words: "My dream is that Mexico, a land with- out theater, without its own theatrical expression, despite the paltry geniuses of my stripe and the far more paltry subgeniuses of desk, study, or anthology, may, out of its blood, revive the Greek grandeur of the tragedy." And he has another dream of which Marti, a great admirer of Calderon, would have approved: that of borrowing the latter's title "The Great Theater of the World" for a work to be entitled "The Great Theater of the New World." We must add that these judgments of Usigli, a writer of un- deniable ability and originality, should be not taken in their negative sense of denying himself and the other writers who in growing numbers are working to create an original theater in the lands of the Caribbean and America. They should be in- terpreted in their positive, hopeful sense of aspiring to bridge the gap that still exists between the individual achievements and the historic, social, and human grandeur of the American homelands. 82 The Caribbean In the other countries, especially in those of the Caribbean, there has been great dramatic activity during the years that have elapsed of the twentieth century; but if we are to accept the word of the outstanding figure among all the present-day writers for the theater, Rodolfo Usigli, the situation in Mexico is the same today as when Marti was writing. In words that recall Marti, Usigli says: In Mexico "we have not as yet the physical mediums- theater, actors, public-to make such a dream reality." "A peo- ple, a national consciousness, are things of slow formation, and, in my opinion, the consciousness and the truth of a people resides in the theater." And in still more absolute form, he says: "The light of day tells me, after a life devoted to the theater, that Mex- ico is a country without theater, probably without the impulse toward the theater, still as distant from a living, vital theater as from another continent or another world." And he bitterly wrote to George Bernard Shaw: "I am a playwright in a desert." Never- theless, like Marti, he dreams of the possibility of a Mexican theater and in his "first attempt at a Mexican tragedy" he con- cludes with these words: "My dream is that Mexico, a land with- out theater, without its own theatrical expression, despite the paltry geniuses of my stripe and the far more paltry subgeniuses of desk, study, or anthology, may, out of its blood, revive the Greek grandeur of the tragedy." And he has another dream of which Marti, a great admirer of Caldern, would have approved: that of borrowing the latter's title "The Great Theater of the World" for a work to be entitled "The Great Theater of the New World." We must add that these judgments of Usigli, a writer of un- deniable ability and originality, should be not taken in their negative sense of denying himself and the other writers who in growing numbers are working to create an original theater in the lands of the Caribbean and America. They should be in- terpreted in their positive, hopeful sense of aspiring to bridge the gap that still exists between the individual achievements and the historic, social, and human grandeur of the American homelands. 82 The Caribbean In the other countries, especially in those of the Caribbean, there has been great dramatic activity during the years that have elapsed of the twentieth century; but if we are to accept the word of the outstanding figure among all the present-day writers for the theater, Rodolfo Usigli, the situation in Mexico is the same today as when Marti was writing. In words that recall Marti, Usigli says: In Mexico "we have not as yet the physical mediums- theater, actors, public-to make such a dream reality." "A peo- ple, a national consciousness, are things of slow formation, and, in my opinion, the consciousness and the truth of a people resides in the theater." And in still more absolute form, he says: "The light of day tells me, after a life devoted to the theater, that Mex- ico is a country without theater, probably without the impulse toward the theater, still as distant from a living, vital theater as from another continent or another world." And he bitterly wrote to George Bernard Shaw: "I am a playwright in a desert." Never- theless, like Marti, he dreams of the possibility of a Mexican theater and in his "first attempt at a Mexican tragedy" he con- cludes with these words: "My dream is that Mexico, a land with- out theater, without its own theatrical expression, despite the paltry geniuses of my stripe and the far more paltry subgeniuses of desk, study, or anthology, may, out of its blood, revive the Greek grandeur of the tragedy." And he has another dream of which Marti, a great admirer of Calderon, would have approved: that of borrowing the latter's title "The Great Theater of the World" for a work to be entitled "The Great Theater of the New World." We must add that these judgments of Usigli, a writer of un- deniable ability and originality, should be not taken in their negative sense of denying himself and the other writers who in growing numbers are working to create an original theater in the lands of the Caribbean and America. They should be in- terpreted in their positive, hopeful sense of aspiring to bridge the gap that still exists between the individual achievements and the historic, social, and human grandeur of the American homelands.  MUSIC AND DRAMA 83 MUSIC AND DRAMA 83 MUSIC AND DRAMA 83 Usigli, in his already abundant work, has advanced farther than any other toward the creation of a Mexican theater of universal significance; and in his historical, or-as he prefers to call them- antihistorical tragedies, such as Corona de sombra; his social and political comedies, such as El gesticuladar; his unpublished work on the Virgin of Guadalupe; and others, he has given us, from different angles, an original and modern vision of the Mexican soul, dramatic, penetrating, delicate. In Mexico, too, a revolutionary theater was cultivated by Bus- tillo Oro and Mauricio Magdaleno, which, despite its artistic mer- its, has passed because it was too closely linked to the conflicts and ideologies of the moment. And, more recently, so sensitive a poet as Xavier Villaurrutia wrote for the stage his Autos profanos, in which he probed with chill exactitude enigmatic psychological problems, too bound up with the aesthetics of the moment. This century has produced many dramatic authors in Cuba, as may be seen from Jose Juan Arrom's Historia de la literatura draredtica cubana (New Haven, 1944). Outstanding among them is Jos6 Antonio Ramos, by reason of his long and persistent effort to create a Cuban theater (culminating in the social drama Tembladera) along the lines counseled by Marti, who inspired his play El traidor. Nor has Puerto Rico lacked dramatic authors who have managed to express the soul of their folk in works such as Tiempo muerto by Manuel Mendez Ballester, esta noche juega el jocker by Fernando Sierra Berdecia, and La carreta by Rene Marquis. Francisco Arrivi is beginning to make a name for him- self as a playwright. VI Many more names from these and other Caribbean countries could be listed; but the quantity, and even the relative quality, of their accomplishment would not alter the conclusion implicit in what we have been saving: that if Marti were alive today he would say the same things he said seventy, eighty years ago, and Usigli, in his already abundant work, has advanced farther than any other toward the creation of a Mexican theater of universal significance; and in his historical, or-as he prefers to call them- antihistorical tragedies, such as Corona de sombra; his social and political comedies, such as El gesticulador; his unpublished work on the Virgin of Guadalupe; and others, he has given us, from different angles, an original and modern vision of the Mexican soul, dramatic, penetrating, delicate. In Mexico, too, a revolutionary theater was cultivated by Bus- tillo Oro and Mauricio Magdaleno, which, despite its artistic mer- its, has passed because it was too closely linked to the conflicts and ideologies of the moment. And, more recently, so sensitive a poet as Xavier Villaurrutia wrote for the stage his Autos profanos, in which he probed with chill exactitude enigmatic psychological problems, too bound up with the aesthetics of the moment. This century has produced many dramatic authors in Cuba, as may be seen from Josi Juan Arrom's Historia de la literatura dramdtica cubana (New Haven, 1944). Outstanding among them is Jos6 Antonio Ramos, by reason of his long and persistent effort to create a Cuban theater (culminating in the social drama Tembladera) along the lines counseled by Marti, who inspired his play El traidor. Nor has Puerto Rico lacked dramatic authors who have managed to express the soul of their folk in works such as Tiempo muerto by Manuel Mendez Ballester, Esta noche juega el jocker by Fernando Sierra Berdecia, and La carreta by Rend Marques. Francisco Arrivi is beginning to make a name for him- self as a playwright. VI Many more names from these and other Caribbean countries could be listed; but the quantity, and even the relative quality, of their accomplishment would not alter the conclusion implicit in what we have been saying: that if Marti were alive today he would say the same things he said seventy, eighty years ago, and Usigli, in his already abundant work, has advanced farther than any other toward the creation of a Mexican theater of universal significance; and in his historical, or-as he prefers to call them- antihistorical tragedies, such as Corona de sombra; his social and political comedies, such as El gesticulador; his unpublished work on the Virgin of Guadalupe; and others, he has given us, from different angles, an original and modern vision of the Mexican soul, dramatic, penetrating, delicate. In Mexico, too, a revolutionary theater was cultivated by Bus- tillo Oro and Mauricio Magdaleno, which, despite its artistic mer- its, has passed because it was too closely linked to the conflicts and ideologies of the moment. And, more recently, so sensitive a poet as Xavier Villaurrutia wrote for the stage his Autos profanos, in which he probed with chill exactitude enigmatic psychological problems, too bound up with the osthetics of the moment. This century has produced many dramatic authors in Cuba, as may be seen from Josi Juan Arrom's Historia de la literatura dramdtica cubana (New Haven, 1944). Outstanding among them is Jos6 Antonio Ramos, by reason of his long and persistent effort to create a Cuban theater (culminating in the social drama Tembladera) along the lines counseled by Marti, who inspired his play El traidor. Nor has Puerto Rico lacked dramatic authors who have managed to express the soul of their folk in works such as Tiempo muerto by Manuel Mndez Ballester, Esta noche juega el jocker by Fernando Sierra Berdecia, and La carreta by Rend Marques. Francisco Arrivi is beginning to make a name for him- self as a playwright. VI Many more names from these and other Caribbean countries could be listed; but the quantity, and even the relative quality, of their accomplishment would not alter the conclusion implicit in what we have been saying: that if Marti were alive today he would say the same things he said seventy, eighty years ago, and  84 The Caribbean his words would be equally valid. Today other foreign inluences and dramatic techniques are in vogue; but the disproportion be- tween the original production and the outside influence continues as before. If I were to attempt to give any idea here of the dramatic activities that have been developing in these countries in the past thirty years, I would have to list the innumerable artistic groups, university theaters, and persons who, with intelligence, taste, and a background of universal culture, have staged in Mexico, in Cuba, in Puerto Rico and other countries Greek, Spanish; English, and French dramas-the best to be found in the classic and modern theater. In this field, we would come away with the impression that these lands of ours have welcomed and put into effect all the new theories of the theater that originated in Europe and were brought to the United States afterward. This is excellent, pro- vided, as Marti warned, it does not remain mere imitation, and provided culture so acquired serves as an incentive to original creation which, to a certain degree, has been the case in the examples we have cited. Nor have I mentioned the forms of popular theater which exist traditionally in various of our countries, particularly Cuba and Mexico. This theater-the Creole version of the sainete and zarzuela with its stock figures, the gallego, the negro, the mulata, and so forth-does not exist in printed form; it is adapted for the occasion, even improvised. For this reason it is not considered literature. But unquestionably, humble though this form of theater may be, it meets the basic requirements of any national theater: collective emotions, traditionalism, and the collabora- tion of the public. From such humble origins came the River Plate theater, which fused the popular tradition with universal culture, the formula to which everything that has been real theater the world over can, in varying ways, be reduced. The peoples of the Caribbean will create their theater after their own fashion, and the hopeful promises that have already appeared will one day become the reality dreamed by Marti. 84 The Caribbean 84 The Caribbean his words would be equally valid. Today other foreign influences and dramatic techniques are in vogue; but the disproportion be- tween the original production and the outside influence continues as before. If I were to attempt to give any idea here of the dramatic activities that have been developing in these countries in the past thirty years, I would have to list the innumerable artistic groups, university theaters, and persons who, with intelligence, taste, and a background of universal culture, have staged in Mexico, in Cuba, in Puerto Rico and other countries Greek, Spanish, English, and French dramas-the best to be found in the classic and modern theater. In this field, we would come away with the impression that these lands of ours have welcomed and put into effect all the new theories of the theater that originated in Europe and were brought to the United States afterward. This is excellent, pro- vided, as Marti warned, it does not remain mere imitation, and provided culture so acquired serves as an incentive to original creation which, to a certain degree, has been the case in the examples we have cited. Nor have I mentioned the forms of popular theater which exist traditionally in various of our countries, particularly Cuba and Mexico. This theater-the Creole version of the sainete and zarzuela with its stock figures, the gallego, the negro, the mulata, and so forth-does not exist in printed form; it is adapted for the occasion, even improvised. For this reason it is not considered literature. But unquestionably, humble though this form of theater may be, it meets the basic requirements of any national theater: collective emotions, traditionalism, and the collabora- tion of the public. From such humble origins came the River Plate theater, which fused the popular tradition with universal culture, the formula to which everything that has been real theater the world over can, in varying ways, be reduced. The peoples of the Caribbean will create their theater after their own fashion, and the hopeful promises that have already appeared will one day become the reality dreamed by Marti. his words would be equally valid. Today other foreign inlbuences and dramatic techniques are in vogue; but the disproportion be- tween the original production and the outside influence continues as before. If I were to attempt to give any idea here of the dramatic activities that have been developing in these countries in the past thirty years, I would have to list the innumerable artistic groups, university theaters, and persons who, with intelligence, taste, and a background of universal culture, have staged in Mexico, in Cuba, in Puerto Rico and other countries Greek, Spanish; English, and French dramas-the best to be found in the classic and modern theater. In this field, we would come away with the impression that these lands of ours have welcomed and put into effect all the new theories of the theater that originated in Europe and were brought to the United States afterward. This is excellent, pro- vided, as Marti warned, it does not remain mere imitation, and provided culture so acquired serves as an incentive to original creation which, to a certain degree, has been the case in the examples we have cited. Nor have I mentioned the forms of popular theater which exist traditionally in various of our countries, particularly Cuba and Mexico. This theater-the Creole version of the sainete and zarzuela with its stock figures, the gallego, the negro, the mulata, and so forth-does not exist in printed form; it is adapted for the occasion, even improvised. For this reason it is not considered literature. But unquestionably, humble though this form of theater may be, it meets the basic requirements of any national theater: collective emotions, traditionalism, and the collabora- tion of the public. From such humble origins came the River Plate theater, which fused the popular tradition with universal culture, the formula to which everything that has been real theater the world over can, in varying ways, be reduced. The peoples of the Caribbean will create their theater after their own fashion, and the hopeful promises that have already appeared will one day become the reality dreamed by Marti.  Part III Part III Part III LITERATURE LITERATURE IT ERATU RE   7 Anibal SAnchez-Reulet: ESSAYISTS IN THE CARIBBEAN IN A BRIEF PAPER, one cannot present a complete picture of the contributions that have been made by the writers of the Caribbean area in the last half century, even if limited to the best-known authors and to their most important works. Let us not forget, first of all, that the Caribbean area-at least in the broader sense which we are accustomed to give to this expression in these conferences-includes some of the countries of greatest cultural and literary activity within the Spanish American world, such as Colombia, Cuba, Mexico, and Venezuela. Passing over, for the present, the admittedly significant con- tributions of the poets and novelists, I shall limit myself to the work of the essayists. This choice, however arbitrary it may seem, has been made for very definite reasons, one of which is the desire to establish the importance of the essay. It is quite a common attitude to consider the essay as a sort of second-rate literary form. (Assuming, of course, that types and classes do exist.) Most of the histories of literature and college courses, at present, are accustomed to give preference-as being "more im- portant types"-to poetry, the novel, and the drama. Neverthe- less, the essay is one of the richest and most interesting contri- butions to our literature. It is, perhaps, the literary form in 87 7 Anibal Sinchez-Reulet: ESSAYISTS IN THE CARIBBEAN IN A BRIEF PAPER, one cannot present a complete picture of the contributions that have been made by the writers of the Caribbean area in the last half century, even if limited to the best-known authors and to their most important works. Let us not forget, first of all, that the Caribbean area-at least in the broader sense which we are accustomed to give to this expression in these conferences-includes some of the countries of greatest cultural and literary activity within the Spanish American world, such as Colombia, Cuba, Mexico, and Venezuela. Passing over, for the present, the admittedly significant con- tributions of the poets and novelists, I shall limit myself to the work of the essayists. This choice, however arbitrary it may seem, has been made for very definite reasons, one of which is the desire to establish the importance of the essay. It is quite a common attitude to consider the essay as a sort of second-rate literary form. (Assuming, of course, that types and classes do exist.) Most of the histories of literature and college courses, at present, are accustomed to give preference-as being "more im- portant types"-to poetry, the novel, and the drama. Neverthe- less, the essay is one of the richest and most interesting contri- butions to our literature. It is, perhaps, the literary form in 87 Anibal Sinchez-Reulet: ESSAYISTS IN THE CARIBBEAN IN A BRIEF PAPER, one cannot present a complete picture of the contributions that have been made by the writers of the Caribbean area in the last half century, even if limited to the best-known authors and to their most important works. Let us not forget, first of all, that the Caribbean area-at least in the broader sense which we are accustomed to give to this expression in these conferences-includes some of the countries of greatest cultural and literary activity within the Spanish American world, such as Colombia, Cuba, Mexico, and Venezuela. Passing over, for the present, the admittedly significant con- tributions of the poets and novelists, I shall limit myself to the work of the essayists. This choice, however arbitrary it may seem, has been made for very definite reasons, one of which is the desire to establish the importance of the essay. It is quite a common attitude to consider the essay as a sort of second-rate literary form. (Assuming, of course, that types and classes do exist.) Most of the histories of literature and college courses, at present, are accustomed to give preference-as being "more im- portant types"-to poetry, the novel, and the drama. Neverthe- less, the essay is one of the richest and most interesting contri- butions to our literature. It is, perhaps, the literary form in  88 The Caribbean which Spanish Americans have reached their highest point of maturity and intellectual sophistication. Just as some of the outstanding values of Spanish American literature of the nineteenth century are not found in its poetry or its novel, but are found in the cuadro de costumbres, news- paper editorials, memoirs, letters, political speeches, and historical works, so today we must look for them in the work of the essayists. Much of our literature has been inspired and continues to find its inspiration in themes quite outside the literary field. It was, and continues to be, a means of setting forth political ideas, an in- strument for social reforms, even a weapon of combat. Only thus can one understand the writings of Sarmiento, of Lastarria, of Marti, of Gonzalez Prada, of Rod6, and of Justo Sierra. Follow- ing in their footsteps, the Spanish American writers of the twentieth century have made frequent use of the essay as the most effective means of setting forth their sociological theories, their historical concepts, their philosophical ideas, and, naturally, their political convictions. There is no more manifest contribu- tion, therefore, than that of the contemporary essayists, especially those of the countries which form this cluster of nations which we have gathered together under the convenient name of "the Caribbean area." When we study the countries of the Caribbean as a whole, our attention is inevitably called to the importance that the essay form has attained, not only because of the number and the quality of the authors who have devoted themselves to it, but also because of the variety of subjects and situations which they have present- ed. Let us now make a quick survey of the outstanding authors, taking a sort of tour through the literature of the Caribbean, that sea which, incidentally, has been the subject of so much literary expression. If we choose as a point of departure the Dominican Republic, we find there a group of writers of exceptional ability, who have 88 The Caribbean 88 The Caribbean which Spanish Americans have reached their highest point of maturity and intellectual sophistication. Just as some of the outstanding values of Spanish American literature of the nineteenth century are not found in its poetry or its novel, but are found in the cuadro de costumbres, news- paper editorials, memoirs, letters, political speeches, and historical works, so today we must look for them in the work of the essayists. Much of our literature has been inspired and continues to find its inspiration in themes quite outside the literary field. It was, and continues to be, a means of setting forth political ideas, an in- strument for social reforms, even a weapon of combat. Only thus can one understand the writings of Sarmiento, of Lastarria, of Marti, of Gonzalez Prada, of Rod6, and of Justo Sierra. Follow- ing in their footsteps, the Spanish American writers of the twentieth century have made frequent use of the essay as the most effective means of setting forth their sociological theories, their historical concepts, their philosophical ideas, and, naturally, their political convictions. There is no more manifest contribu- tion, therefore, than that of the contemporary essayists, especially those of the countries which form this cluster of nations which we have gathered together under the convenient name of "the Caribbean area." When we study the countries of the Caribbean as a whole, our attention is inevitably called to the importance that the essay form has attained, not only because of the number and the quality of the authors who have devoted themselves to it, but also because of the variety of subjects and situations which they have present- ed. Let us now make a quick survey of the outstanding authors, taking a sort of tour through the literature of the Caribbean, that sea which, incidentally, has been the subject of so much literary expression. If we choose as a point of departure the Dominican Republic, we find there a group of writers of exceptional ability, who have which Spanish Americans have reached their highest point of maturity and intellectual sophistication. Just as some of the outstanding values of Spanish American literature of the nineteenth century are not found in its poetry or its novel, but are found in the cuadro de costumbres, news- paper editorials, memoirs, letters, political speeches, and historical works, so today we must look for them in the work of the essayists. Much of our literature has been inspired and continues to find its inspiration in themes quite outside the literary field. It was, and continues to be, a means of setting forth political ideas, an in- strument for social reforms, even a weapon of combat. Only thus can one understand the writings of Sarmiento, of Lastarria, of Marti, of GonzAlez Prada, of Rodd, and of Justo Sierra. Follow- ing in their footsteps, the Spanish American writers of the twentieth century have made frequent use of the essay as the most effective means of setting forth their sociological theories, their historical concepts, their philosophical ideas, and, naturally, their political convictions. There is no more manifest contribu- tion, therefore, than that of the contemporary essayists, especially those of the countries which form this cluster of nations which we have gathered together under the convenient name of "the Caribbean area." When we study the countries of the Caribbean as a whole, our attention is inevitably called to the importance that the essay form has attained, not only because of the number and the quality of the authors who have devoted themselves to it, but also because of the variety of subjects and situations which they have present- ed. Let us now make a quick survey of the outstanding authors, taking a sort of tour through the literature of the Caribbean, that sea which, incidentally, has been the subject of so much literary expression. If we choose as a point of departure the Dominican Republic, we find there a group of writers of exceptional ability, who have  LITERATURE 89 LITERATURE 89 LITERATURE 89 cultivated the essay as their preferred form of literary expression. Let us mention, for example, the names of Americo Lugo (1870- 1952), Tulio Cestero (b. 1877), and Pedro Henriquez Urefna (1884-1946), the most universally recognized of the three. Henriquez Urefia lived for many years in Mexico and in Argen- tina, and, as much by his personal contact with his disciples as by his writings, he exercised an unforgotten influence on the succeeding generations of writers. He was one of the best-in- formed writers and one of the best interpreters of the culture and the literature of Spanish America.' His well-wrought prose is a model of conciseness and intelligence. Max Henriquez Urefla (b. 1885), his brother, and the author of excellent short stories with historical backgrounds, has also written essays of criticism.' Cuba, for its part, has produced in the last fifty years a great number of essayists of unusual significance. Besides Enrique Jos6 Varona (1849-1933), who wrote some of his best essays in the present century, we may also place in the forefront the already illustrious Fernando Ortiz (b. 1881), who has made use of the essay to express his political and sociological ideas and to disclose the results of his historical, linguistic, and anthropological re- search., To a more recent period, belong Medardo Vitier (b. 1886), Felix Lizaso (b. 1891), and Jose Maria Chac6n y Calvo (b. 1893). Vitier is interested preferably in themes re- ' His best-known work on the subject is Literary Currents in Hispanic America (Cambridge, Mass., 1945), originally written in English. In Spanish: Las corrientes literarias on la Amdrica Hispdnica (Mexico, 1949). In addition, Henriquez Urena has published several volumes of essays in which he discusses themes related to the same subject. The most impor- tant are: Horas de estudio (Paris, 1910); Sets ensayos en busca de nuestra expresidn (Buenos Aires, 1928); Plenitud de Espana (Buenos Aires, 1940). : El retorno de los galeones (Madrid, 1930); Las influencias francesas en la poesia hispanoamericana (Mexico, 1940); Breve historia del mo- dernismo (Mexico, 1954). ' Works deserving special attention are: Contrapunto cubano del tabaco y dcl ardear (La Habana, 1940); El huracan, su mitologia y sus simbolos (Mixico, 1947). There is an English translation by Harriet de Onis of the first work: Cuban Counterpoint: Tobacco and Sugar (New York, 1947. cultivated the essay as their preferred form of literary expression. Let us mention, for example, the names of Americo Lugo (1870- 1952), Tulio Cestero (b. 1877), and Pedro Henriquez Ureia (1884-1946), the most universally recognized of the three. Henriquez Urefa lived for many years in Mexico and in Argen- tina, and, as much by his personal contact with his disciples as by his writings, he exercised an unforgotten influence on the succeeding generations of writers. He was one of the best-in- formed writers and one of the best interpreters of the culture and the literature of Spanish America.' His well-wrought prose is a model of conciseness and intelligence. Max Henriquez Urena (b. 1885), his brother, and the author of excellent short stories with historical backgrounds, has also written essays of criticism.' Cuba, for its part, has produced in the last fifty years a great number of essayists of unusual significance. Besides Enrique Jose Varona (1849-1933), who wrote some of his best essays in the present century, we may also place in the forefront the already illustrious Fernando Ortiz (b. 1881), who has made use of the essay to express his political and sociological ideas and to disclose the results of his historical, linguistic, and anthropological re- search.' To a more recent period, belong Medardo Vitier (b. 1886), Felix Lizaso (b. 1891), and Jose Maria Chacon y Calvo (b. 1893). Vitier is interested preferably in themes re- His best-known work on the subject is Literary Currents in Hispanic America (Cambridge, Mass., 1945), originally written in English. tn Spanish: Las corrientes literarias en la Amdrica Hispdnica (Mexico, 1949). In addition, Henriquez Urefna has published several volumes of essays in which he discusses themes related to the same subject. The most impor- tant are: Horas de estudio (Pits, 1910); Seis ensayos en busca de nuestra expresidn (Buenos Aires, 1928); Plenitud de Espana (Buenos Aires, 1940). ' El retorno de los galeones (Madrid, 1930); Las influencias francesas en la poesia hispanoamericana (Mixico, 1940); Breve historia del mo- dernismo (Mexico, 1954). ' Works deserving special attention are: Contrapuonto cubano del tabaco y del azicar (La Habana, 1940); El huracdn, su mitologia y sus simbolos (Mexico, 1947). There is an English translation by Harriet de Onis of the first work: Cuban Counterpoint: Tobacco and Sugar (New York, 1947). cultivated the essay as their preferred form of literary expression. Let us mention, for example, the names of Americo Lugo (1870- 1952), Tulio Cestero (b. 1877), and Pedro Henriquez Urefla (1884-1946), the most universally recognized of the three. Henriquez Urea lived for many years in Mexico and in Argen- tina, and, as much by his personal contact with his disciples as by his writings, he exercised an unforgotten influence on the succeeding generations of writers. He was one of the best-in- formed writers and one of the best interpreters of the culture and the literature of Spanish America.' His well-wrought prose is a model of conciseness and intelligence. Max Henriquez Urea (b. 1885), his brother, and the author of excellent short stories with historical backgrounds, has also written essays of criticism.' Cuba, for its part, has produced in the last fifty years a great number of essayists of unusual significance. Besides Enrique Josd Varona (1849-1933), who wrote some of his best essays in the present century, we may also place in the forefront the already illustrious Fernando Ortiz (b. 1881), who has made use of the essay to express his political and sociological ideas and to disclose the results of his historical, linguistic, and anthropological re- search.' To a more recent period, belong Medardo Vitier (b. 1886), Felix Lizaso (b. 1891), and Jos6 Maria Chacin y Calvo (b. 1893). Vitier is interested preferably in themes re- His best-known work on the subject is Literary Currents in Hispanic America (Cambridge, Mass., 1945), originally written in English. In Spanish: Las corrientes literarias en la Amdrica Hispdnica (Mexico, 1949). In addition, Henriquez Urena has published several volumes of essays in which he discusses themes related to the same subject. The most impor- tant are: Horas de estudio (Paris, 1910); Seis ensayos en busca de nuestra expresidn (Buenos Aires, 1928); Plenitud de Espana (Buenos Aires, 1940). ' El retorno de los galeones (Madrid, 1930); Las influencias francesas en la poesia hispanoamericana (Mexico, 1940); Breve historia del mo- dernismo (Mixico, 1954). ' Works deserving special attention are: Contrapunto cubano del tabaco y del azdcar (La Habana, 1940); El huracdn, so mitologia y sus simbolos (Mixico, 1947). There is an English translation by Harriet de Onis of the first work: Cuban Counterpoint: Tobacco and Sugar (New York, 1947).  90 The Caribbean lating to the history of ideas and to philosophy in Cuba, and was one of the first to attempt a study of the Spanish American essay as a whole. This same concern for national values is revealed in the work of Lizaso-the biographer of Marti-and of Varona.s Chac6n y Calvo, for his part, has dedicated himself to criticism, and, without overlooking Spanish literature, has concerned him- self with Cuban authors, such as Heredia and Sra. Avellaneda. The younger writers, who appeared upon the Cuban literary scene about 1927 with their Revista de Avance-and to whose group Felix Lizaso capitulated-are also fundamentally essayists; such is the case of Jorge Maiiach (b. 1898), Juan Marinello (b. 1899), and Francisco Ichaso (b. 1900). These three com- bine their oEsthetic and literary interests with a vital concern with social and political problems. The work of Maniach-swhich has greater continuity than that of the others-shows, besides, a strong philosophical trend which finds its expression in a human- istic vitalism.' Finally, the over-all view of the Cuban essay would not be complete if we did not mention the names of newcomers such as Rasil Roa (h. 1909) and Josd Antonio Portuondo (b. 1910). If from Cuba we go to Mexico, the picture becomes noticeably complex. It is true that, from a strictly literary point of view, there is in Mexico a name which stands out above all others- that of Alfonso Reyes (b. 1889). Although a fine, original poet -he is the author of Pausa and Ifgenia cruel-he possesses another side to his literary personality (which is more attractive ' Del ensayo americano (Mixico, 1945). Vitier is also the author of: Las ideas en Cuba: Proceso del pensamiento politico, filos6ico y critico (La Habana, 1928) and La filosofia en Cuba (Mexico, 1948). Marti y la utopia de America (La Habana, 1942); Panorama de la csstura cubana (Mexico, 1949). * Ensayos de literatura cubana (Madrid, 1922); Ensayos de literatura espanola (Madrid, 1928); Estudios heredianos (La Habana, 1939). ' Martsi, el apostol (Madrid, 1933); Indagacidn del chosco (La Habana, 1940); Historia y estilo (La Habana, 1944); Examen del quijotismo (Buenos Aires, 1950); Para una filosofia de la vida (La Habana, 1951). There is an English translation by Coley Taylor of the first book: Marti, Apostle of Freedom (New York, 1950). 90 The Caribbean 90 The Caribbean lating to the history of ideas and to philosophy in Cuba, and was one of the first to attempt a study of the Spanish American essay as a whole., This same concern for national values is revealed in the work of Lizaso-the biographer of Marti-and of Varona.' Chac6n y Calvo, for his part, has dedicated himself to criticism, and, without overlooking Spanish literature, has concerned him- self with Cuban authors, such as Heredia and Sra. Avellaneda." The younger writers, who appeared upon the Cuban literary scene about 1927 with their Revista de Avance-and to whose group Fdlix Lizaso capitulated-are also fundamentally essayists; such is the case of Jorge Mafiach (b. 1898), Juan Marinello (b. 1899), and Francisco Ichaso (b. 1900). These three com- bine their msthetic and literary interests with a vital concern with social and political problems. The work of Maniach-which has greater continuity than that of the others-shows, besides, a strong philosophical trend which finds its expression in a human- istic vitalism.' Finally, the over-all view of the Cuban essay would not be complete if we did not mention the names of newcomers such as Ral Roa (b. 1909) and Jose Antonio Portuondo (b. 1910). If from Cuba we go to Mexico, the picture becomes noticeably complex. It is true that, from a strictly literary point of view, there is in Mexico a name which stands out above all others- that of Alfonso Reyes (b. 1889). Although a fine, original poet -he is the author of Pausa and Ifigenia cruel-he possesses another side to his literary personality (which is more attractive ' Del ensayo americano (Mexico, 1945). Vitier is also the author of: Las ideas en Cuba: Proceso del pensamiento politico, filosico y critico (La Habana, 1928) and La ilosofia en Cuba (Mexico, 1948). Martsi y la utopia de Amirica (La Habana, 1942); Panorama de la cultura cubana (Mexico, 1949). Ensayos de literatura cubana (Madrid, 1922); Ensayos de literatura espanola (Madrid, 1928); Estudios heredianos (La Habana, 1939). ' Marti, el apdstol (Madrid, 1933); Indagacidn del choteo (La Habana, 1940); Historia y estilo (La Habana, 1944); Examen del quijotismo (Buenos Aires, 1950); Para una filosofia de la vida (La Habana, 1951). There is an English translation by Coley Taylor of the first book: Marti, Apostle of Freedom (New York, 1950). lating to the history of ideas and to philosophy in Cuba, and was one of the first to attempt a study of the Spanish American essay as a whole.' This same concern for national values is revealed in the work of Lizaso-the biographer of Marti-and of Varona. Chac6n y Calvo, for his part, has dedicated himself to criticism, and, without overlooking Spanish literature, has concerned him- self with Cuban authors, such as Heredia and Sra. Avellaneda.e The younger writers, who appeared upon the Cuban literary scene about 1927 with their Revista de Avance-and to whose group Felix Lizaso capitulated-are also fundamentally essayists; such is the case of Jorge Mafach (b. 1898), Juan Marinello (b. 1899), and Francisco Ichaso (b. 1900). These three com- bine their esthetic and literary interests with a vital concern with social and political problems. The work of Mafnach-swhich has greater continuity than that of the others-shows, besides, a strong philosophical trend which finds its expression in a human- istic vitalism.' Finally, the over-all view of the Cuban essay would not be complete if we did not mention the names of newcomers such as Ra6l Roa (h. 1909) and Jos6 Antonio Portuondo (b. 1910). If from Cuba we go to Mexico, the picture becomes noticeably complex. It is true that, from a strictly literary point of view, there is in Mexico a name which stands out above all others- that of Alfonso Reyes (b. 1889). Although a fine, original poet -he is the author of Pausa and Ifigenia cruel-he possesses another side to his literary personality (which is more attractive ' Del ensayo americano (Mixico, 1945). Vitier is also the author of: Las ideas on Cuba: Proceso del pensamiento politico, filos6ico y critico (La Habana, 1928) and La filosofia en Cuba (Mxico, 1948). " Marts y la utopia de Amirica (La Habana, 1942); Panorama de la cultura cubana (Mexico, 1949). * Ensayos de literatura cubana (Madrid, 1922); Ensayos de literatura espanola (Madrid, 1928); Estudios heredianos (La Habana, 1939). ' Marti, el apistol (Madrid, 1933); Indagacion del choieo (La Habana, 1940); Historia y estilo (La Habana, 1944); Examen del quijotismo (Buenos Aires, 1950); Para una flosofia de la vida (La Habana, 1951). There is an English translation by Coley Taylor of the first book: Marti, Apostle of Freedom (New York, 1950).  LITERATURE 91 LITERATURE 91 LITERATURE to my taste), that of an essayist of exceptional qualities'-excep- tional not only in the field of Spanish letters, but in that of any literature. Concerned mainly with the problems of aesthetic crea- tion, Reyes has attained a unique mastery. He has a freedom of style-the difficult ease-which is characteristic of the great masters of the essay. But if Alfonso Reyes dominates the scene of the Mexican essay, he is by no means alone. His very presence enables one to realize this, because great writers always arise from a period of great literary production. It is not easy, therefore, to give in a few lines even an approximate idea of the importance of the Mexican essay in our century. To a generation previous to that of Reyes belong, for example, Francisco A. de Icaza (1863-1925) -one of the great figures in the field of Spanish criticism and philology, and notable for his studies of Cervantes-and Carlos Pereyra (1871-1942), a historian of conservative orientation and a Hispanophile. His work is of great interest for the original- ity of his theses and for the biting, argumentative tone of his essays. Although a very different character, the works of these two authors tend to vindicate the importance of Spanish culture. Pereyra, moreover, was an absolute defender of the accomplish- ments of Spain in the New World.' To the same generation as Reyes-to the group of the Ateneo, of which Pedro Henriquez Urefia also formed a part-belong Jos6 Vasconcelos (b. 1882) and Antonio Caso (1883-1946), who have preferred to write philosophical essays without renouncing, a Best-known works: Simpatias y diferencias (Madrid, 1921-1923); El cazador: ensayos y divagaciones (Madrid, 1921); La visperas de Es- pana (Buenos Aires, 1937); Norte y sur (Mixico, 1944); El deslinde (Mxico, 1944). A volume of Reyes' essays, translated by Harriet de Onis, has been published in English: The Position of America and Other Essays (New York, 1950). ' See La obra de Espana en Amirica (Madrid, 1920). Besides essays and works on history (including a monumental history of Spanish America in eight volumes), Pereyra has written pamphlets and books of polemic character against the United States: El mito de Monroe (Madrid, 1914); La constituci6n de los Estados Unidos como instrumento de dominacidni plutocrdtica (Madrid, n.d.). to my taste), that of an essayist of exceptional qualities--excep- tional not only in the field of Spanish letters, but in that of any literature. Concerned mainly with the problems of msthetic crea- tion, Reyes has attained a unique mastery. He has a freedom of style-the difficult ease-which is characteristic of the great masters of the essay. But if Alfonso Reyes dominates the scene of the Mexican essay, he is by no means alone. His very presence enables one to realize this, because great writers always arise from a period of great literary production. It is not easy, therefore, to give in a few lines even an approximate idea of the importance of the Mexican essay in our century. To a generation previous to that of Reyes belong, for example, Francisco A. de Icaza (1863-1925) -one of the great figures in the field of Spanish criticism and philology, and notable for his studies of Cervantes-and Carlos Pereyra (1871-1942), a historian of conservative orientation and a Hispanophile. His work is of great interest for the original- ity of his theses and for the biting, argumentative tone of his essays. Although a very different character, the works of these two authors tend to vindicate the importance of Spanish culture. Pereyra, moreover, was an absolute defender of the accomplish- ments of Spain in the New World.' To the same generation as Reyes-to the group of the Ateneo, of which Pedro Henriquez Urena also formed a part-belong Jose Vasconcelos (b. 1882) and Antonio Caso (1883-1946), who have preferred to write philosophical essays without renouncing, ' Best-known works: Simpatias y diferencias (Madrid, 1921-1923); El cazador: ensayos y divagaciones (Madrid, 1921); La risperas de Es- pana (Buenos Aires, 1937); Norte y sur (Mixico, 1944); El deslinde (Mexico, 1944). A volume of Reyes' essays, translated by Harriet de Onis, has been published in English: The Position of America and Other Essays (New York, 1950). * See La obra de Espana en Amirica (Madrid, 1920). Besides essays and works on history (including a monumental history of Spanish America in eight volumes), Pereyra has written pamphlets and books of polemic character against the United States: El mito de Monroe (Madrid, 1914); La constitucian de los Estados Unidos como instrumento de dominacidn plutocratica (Madrid, nd.). to my taste), that of an essayist of exceptional qualities--excep- tional not only in the field of Spanish letters, but in that of any literature. Concerned mainly with the problems of aesthetic crea- tion, Reyes has attained a unique mastery. He has a freedom of style-the difficult ease-which is characteristic of the great masters of the essay. But if Alfonso Reyes dominates the scene of the Mexican essay, he is by no means alone. His very presence enables one to realize this, because great writers always arise from a period of great literary production. It is not easy, therefore, to give in a few lines even an approximate idea of the importance of the Mexican essay in our century. To a generation previous to that of Reyes belong, for example, Francisco A. de Icaza (1863-1925) -one of the great figures in the field of Spanish criticism and philology, and notable for his studies of Cervantes-and Carlos Pereyra (1871-1942), a historian of conservative orientation and a Hispanophile. His work is of great interest for the original- ity of his theses and for the biting, argumentative tone of his essays. Although a very different character, the works of these two authors tend to vindicate the importance of Spanish culture. Pereyra, moreover, was an absolute defender of the accomplish- ments of Spain in the New World.' To the same generation as Reyes-to the group of the Ateneo, of which Pedro Henriquez Urena also formed a part-belong Jos6 Vasconcelos (b. 1882) and Antonio Caso (1883-1946), who have preferred to write philosophical essays without renouncing, ' Best-known works: Simpatsias y diferencias (Madrid, 1921-1923); El cazador: ensayos y divagaciones (Madrid, 1921); La visperas de Es- pana (Buenos Aires, 1937); Norte y sur (Mixico, 1944); El deslinde (Mxico, 1944). A volume of Reyes' essays, translated by Harriet de Onis, has been published in English: The Position of America and Other Essays (New York, 1950). See La obra de Espana en Amirica (Madrid, 1920). Besides essays and works on history (including a monumental history of Spanish America in eight volumes), Pereyra has written pamphlets and books of polemic character against the United States: El mito de Monroe (Madrid, 1914); La constituci6n de los Estados Unidos como instrumento de dominaciin plutocrdtica (Madrid, n.d.).  92 The Caribbean however, political issues. Of the two, Vasconcelos is the one who has the greater literary qualities. He has written pages of absolute perfection, although his work is somewhat uneven.1 Vasconcelos and Caso, besides setting forth their respective philosophical sys- tems, have judged Mexican history and social development from different angles.-' This concern with national problems seems to be one of the salient characteristics of a good part of contemporary Mexican es- sayists. For instance, Samuel Ramos (b. 1897) was one of the first to outline a characterological investigation of the Mexicans." This purpose-and the zeal put into the theme-is even more obvious in the writings of Leopoldo Zea (b. 1912), who has traced not only the problem of the future destiny of Mexico, but also that of Spanish America, in the light of its past and its present." A position very close to that of Zea-which has been inspired by existentialism-has been taken by the members of the Hyperion group. Among those who stand out in this group are Emilio Uranga, Luis Villoro, and Jorge Portilla. From a very different viewpoint, the problems of Mexico have been studied by Daniel Cossio Villegas, Jesus Silva Herzog, Edmundo O'Gor- man, Vicente Lombardo Toledano, and Narciso Bassols. The latter two are men with strong Marxist tendencies. Without remaining longer in Mexico, even at the risk of for- getting some other significant names, let us take a quick glance " Among his best volumes of essays are: Pitdgoras: una teoria del ritmo (La Habana, 1916); El monismo estitico (Mixico, 1918); Tratado de metafisica (Mixico, 1929); Etica (Madrid, 1932); Estiica (Mixico, 1936).. " Among Cast's works of political significance are: Discursos a la natidn mexicana (Mexico, 1922) and Nuevos discursos a a nacion mex- icana (M6xico, 1934). See El perf del hombre y to cultura en Mixico (Mexico, 1934). " He considers the problem of Mexico particularly in Conciencia y posibilidad del mexicano (Mixico, 1952) and El occidente y la conciencia de Mexico (M6xico, 1953.) Also related to the subject are: Apogeo y decadencia del positivismo en Mixico (Mexico, 1944); En torno a una flosofia mexicana (Mexico, 1945); Dos etapas del pensamiento en His- panoamrica: del romanticismo al positivismo (Mexico, 1949). 92 The Caribbean however, political issues. Of the two, Vasconcelos is the one who has the greater literary qualities. He has written pages of absolute perfection, although his work is somewhat uneven.1 Vasconcelos and Caso, besides setting forth their respective philosophical sys- tems, have judged Mexican history and social development from different angles." This concern with national problems seems to be one of the salient characteristics of a good part of contemporary Mexican es- sayists. For instance, Samuel Ramos (b. 1897) was one of the first to outline a characterological investigation of the Mexicans.2 This purpose-and the zeal put into the theme-is even more obvious in the writings of Leopoldo Zea (b. 1912), who has traced not only the problem of the future destiny of Mexico, but also that of Spanish America, in the light of its past and its present.' A position very close to that of Zea-which has been inspired by existentialism-has been taken by the members of the Hyperion group. Among those who stand out in this group are Emilio Uranga, Luis Villoro, and Jorge Portilla. From a very different viewpoint, the problems of Mexico have been studied by Daniel Cossio Villegas, Jesus Silva Herzog, Edmundo O'Gor- man, Vicente Lombardo Toledano, and Narciso Bassols. The latter two are men with strong Marxist tendencies. Without remaining longer in Mexico, even at the risk of for- getting some other significant names, let us take a quick glance " Among his best volumes of essays are: Pitdgoras: una teoria del ritmo (La Habana, 1916); El monismo estitico (Mixico, 1918); Tratado de metafisica (Mixico, 1929); Etica (Madrid, 1932); Estitica (Mexico, 1936). " Among Cast's works of political significance are: Discursos a la nacion mexicana (Mexico, 1922) and Nuevos discursos a Ia nacion mex- icana (Mixico, 1934). See El peril del hombre y Ia cultura en Mixico (Mexico, 1934). " He considers the problem of Mexico particularly in Conciencia y posibilidad del mexicano (Mexico, 1952) and El occidente y la conciencia de Mixico (M6xico, 1953.) Also related to the subject are: Apogeo y decadencia del positivismo en Mixico (Mexico, 1944); En torno a una ilosofia mexicana (Mexico, 1945); Dos etapas del pensamiento en His- panoamerica: del romanticismo al positivismo (Mexico, 1949). 92 The Caribbean however, political issues. Of the two, Vasconcelos is the one who has the greater literary qualities. He has written pages of absolute perfection, although his work is somewhat uneven.10 Vasconcelos and Caso, besides setting forth their respective philosophical sys- tems, have judged Mexican history and social development from different angles." This concern with national problems seems to be one of the salient characteristics of a good part of contemporary Mexican es- sayists. For instance, Samuel Ramos (b. 1897) was one of the first to outline a characterological investigation of the Mexicans.'2 This purpose-and the zeal put into the theme-is even more obvious in the writings of Leopoldo Zea (b. 1912), who has traced not only the problem of the future destiny of Mexico, but also that of Spanish America, in the light of its past and its present." A position very close to that of Zea-which has been inspired by existentialism-has been taken by the members of the Hyperion group. Among those who stand out in this group are Emilio Uranga, Luis Villoro, and Jorge Portilla. From a very different viewpoint, the problems of Mexico have been studied by Daniel Cossio Villegas, Jesds Silva Herzog, Edmundo O'Gor- man, Vicente Lombardo Toledano, and Narciso Bassols. The latter two are men with strong Marxist tendencies. Without remaining longer in Mexico, even at the risk of for- getting some other significant names, let us take a quick glance " Among his best volumes of essays are: Pitdgoras: una teoria del ritmo (La Habana, 1916); El monismo estitico (Mixico, 1918); Tratado de metafisica (Mxico, 1929); Etica (Madrid, 1932); Estdtica (Mexico, 1936). " Among Caso's works of political significance are: Discursos a la nacion mexicana (Mexico, 1922) and Nuevos discursos a to nacion mex- icana (Mdxico, 1934). * See El peri del hombre y Ia cultura en Mixico (Mixico, 1934). " He considers the problem of Mexico particularly in Conciencia y posibilidad del mexicanao (Mexico, 1952) and El occidente y la conciencia de Mexico (MExico, 1953.) Also related to the subject are: Apogeo y decadencia del positivismo en Mixico (Mexico, 1944); En torno a una ilosofia mexicana (Mixico, 1945); Dos etapas del pensamiento en His- panoamica: del romanticismo al positivismo (Mexico, 1949).  LITERATURE 93 LITERATURE 93 LITERATURE 93 at the rest of the countries. In Central America, we find a group of well-established authors: in Costa Rica, Roberto Brenes Mesen (1874-1947) and Joaquin Garcia Monge (b. 1881); in Hon- duras, Rafael Heliodoro Valle (b. 1891); in El Salvador, Al- berto Masferrer (1868?-1932); in Guatemala, Luis Cardoza y Arag6n (b. 1904). Finally, in Panama, there are Octavio Mendez Pereira (1887-1954) and the young critic and literary historian, Rodrigo Mir6.14 Colombia, a cradle of great essayists, has produced in the present century some of the best laborers in the field of literature. Let us mention only a few names which have passed over national boundaries to gain a reputation in all Spanish America. In the first place, there is the long-established master Baldomero Sanin Cano (b. 1861), whose work is original and profound, with a seasoning of British humor. He lived in England for many years and wrote his best essays there. Unfortunately, a great amount of his work is scattered through newspapers and reviews and has not been collected into book form." To the same period, al- though he died in the flower of his manhood, belongs Carlos Arturo Torres (1867-1911), a critic of political prejudices- both aristocratic and democratic-whose name was made famous throughout all Spanish America by the recognition given by Rodd." Torres, like Ingenieros in Argentina, represents the acme of scientism. Now, entirely within Colombia, we find German Arciniegas (b. 1900). Of cosmopolitan tastes, a man of the world, as were Torres and Sanin Cano, Arciniegas is one of the most brilliant essayists that the Spanish American literary world has produced. " Deserving of mention among his volumes of essays is: La cultura colonial en Panama (Miexico, 1950). " Nevertheless, he is the author of several volumes: La civilizacidn manual y otros ensayos (Buenos Aires, 1925); Indagaciones e imdgenes (Bogoti, 1926); Ensayos (Bogotas, 1942); Letras colombianas (Mixico, 1944); Tipos, obras, ideas (Buenos Aires, 1949). . Rod6 wrote a foreword to Torres' principal work: Idola fori: ensayo sobre las supersticiones politicas (Bogoti, 1910). Torres is also author of Estudios de critica moderna (Madrid, 1917). at the rest of the countries. In Central America, we find a group of well-established authors: in Costa Rica, Roberto Brenes Mesdn (1874-1947) and Joaquin Garcia Monge (b. 1881); in Hon- duras, Rafael Heliodoro Valle (b. 1891); in El Salvador, Al- berto Masferrer (1868?-1932); in Guatemala, Luis Cardoza y Arag6n (b. 1904). Finally, in Panama, there are Octavio Mendez Pereira (1887-1954) and the young critic and literary historian, Rodrigo Mir6." Colombia, a cradle of great essayists, has produced in the present century some of the best laborers in the field of literature. Let us mention only a few names which have passed over national boundaries to gain a reputation in all Spanish America. In the first place, there is the long-established master Baldomero Sanin Cano (b. 1861), whose work is original and profound, with a seasoning of British humor. He lived in England for many years and wrote his best essays there. Unfortunately, a great amount of his work is scattered through newspapers and reviews and has not been collected into book form." To the same period, al- though he died in the flower of his manhood, belongs Carlos Arturo Torres (1867-1911), a critic of political prejudices- both aristocratic and democratic-whose name was made famous throughout all Spanish America by the recognition given by Rod6." Torres, like Ingenieros in Argentina, represents the acme of scientism. Now, entirely within Colombia, we find German Arciniegas (b. 1900). Of cosmopolitan tastes, a man of the world, as were Torres and Sanin Cano, Arciniegas is one of the most brilliant essayists that the Spanish American literary world has produced. " Deserving of mention among his volumes of essays is: La cultura colonial en Panamd (Mixico, 1950). " Nevertheless, he is the author of several volumes: La civilizain manual y otros ensayos (Buenos Aires, 1925); Indagaciones a imdgenes (Bogoti, 1926); Ensayos (Bogots, 1942); Letras colombianas (Mexico, 1944); Tipos, obras, ideas (Buenos Aires, 1949). " Rod6 wrote a foreword to Torres' principal work: Idola fori: ensayo sobre las supersticiones politicas (Bogota, 1910). Torres is also author of Estudios de critica moderna (Madrid, 1917). at the rest of the countries. In Central America, we find a group of well-established authors: in Costa Rica, Roberto Brenes Mesn (1874-1947) and Joaquin Garcia Monge (b. 1881); in Hon- duras, Rafael Heliodoro Valle (b. 1891); in El Salvador, Al- berto Masferrer (1868?-1932); in Guatemala, Luis Cardoza y Arag6n (b. 1904). Finally, in Panama, there are Octavio Mendez Pereira (1887-1954) and the young critic and literary historian, Rodrigo Miro." Colombia, a cradle of great essayists, has produced in the present century some of the best laborers in the field of literature. Let us mention only a few names which have passed over national boundaries to gain a reputation in all Spanish America. In the first place, there is the long-established master Baldomero Sanin Cana (b. 1861), whose work is original and profound, with a seasoning of British humor. He lived in England for many years and wrote his best essays there. Unfortunately, a great amount of his work is scattered through newspapers and reviews and has not been collected into book form."5 To the same period, al- though he died in the flower of his manhood, belongs Carlos Arturo Torres (1867-1911), a critic of political prejudices- both aristocratic and democratic-whose name was made famous throughout all Spanish America by the recognition given by Rodo." Torres, like Ingenieros in Argentina, represents the acme of scientism. Now, entirely within Colombia, we find GermAn Arciniegas (b. 1900). Of cosmopolitan tastes, a man of the world, as were Torres and Sanin Cano, Arciniegas is one of the most brilliant essayists that the Spanish American literary world has produced. " Deserving of mention among his volumes of essays is: La cultura colonial en Psoan (Mixico, 1950). " Nevertheless, he is the author of several volumes: La civilizacion manual y otros ensayos (Buenos Aires, 1925); Indagaciones a imdgenes (Bogoti, 1926); Ensayos (Bogota, 1942); Letras colombianas (Mexico, 1944); Tipos, obras, ideas (Buenos Aires, 1949). " Rod6 wrote a foreword to Torres' principal work: Idola fori: ensayo sobre las supersticiones politicas (Bogota, 1910). Torres is also author of Estudios de critica moderns (Madrid, 1917).  94 The Caribbean The dominant themes of his work bear upon the history and the social and political development of Spanish America, more especially of his own country. His points of view are very much his own. It is not superfluous to state here that Arciniegas is the author of one of the most attractive and comprehensive books that have ever been written about the Caribbean.17 More recently in Colombia, we note as outstanding the name of Jorge Zalamea (b. 1905), an excellent critic, equally well acquainted with the literatures of Spain, England, and France." We finally arrive in Venezuela, where it is only right to men- tion, in the first place, the work of Laureano Vallenilla Lanz (1870-1936). In his much discussed work, Cesarismo demo- crdtico"-which has aroused many heated controversies ever since it first appeared some thirty-five years ago-Vallenilla Lanz brought forth a new interpretation of the history of Venezuela and of Spanish America in general. The natural development of the Spanish American peoples-taking the case of Venezuela for an example-tends, in the opinion of Vallenilla Lanz, toward a democracy of the authoritarian type. Democracy from its very beginning has produced a process of leveling off, of equalizing and of mixing the races. This democracy is of the autocratic " Biografia del Caribe (Buenos Aires, 1945). English translation by Harriet de Onis: Caribbean, Sea of the New World (New York, 1946). Arciniegas is also author of Amirica, tierra rme (Santiago de Chile, 1937); Los alemanes en la conquista de Amdrica (Buenos Aires, 1941); El caballero del Dorado: vida del conquistador Jiminez de Quesada (Buenos Aires, 1942); Entre Ia libertad y el miedo (Mexico, 1952). The last three books have been translated into English: Germans in the Con- quest of America: A Sixteenth Century Venture (by Angel Flores, New York, 1943); The Knight of El Dorado: The Tale of Don Gonzalo de Quesada (by Mildred Adams, New York, 1942); The State of Latin America (by Harriet de Onis, New York, 1952). " La vida maravillosa de los libros (Bogoti-Medellin, 1941); Minerva en la rueca y otros ensayos (Bogoti, 1949). " Complete title: Cesarismo democrdtico: estudio sobre las bases sociold- gicas de ia constitucidn efeetiva de Venezuela, 3d, ed. (Caracas, 1952). Vallenilla Lanz is also the author of Criticas de sinceridad y exactitud (Caracas, 1921) and Disgregacid e integracido: ensayo sobre la forma- cidn de to nacionalidal venezolana (Caracas, 1930). 94 The Caribbean 94 The Caribbean The dominant themes of his work bear upon the history and the social and political development of Spanish America, more especially of his own country. His points of view are very much his own. It is not superfluous to state here that Arciniegas is the author of one of the most attractive and comprehensive books that have ever been written about the Caribbean." More recently in Colombia, we note as outstanding the name of Jorge Zalamea (b. 1905), an excellent critic, equally well acquainted with the literatures of Spain, England, and France." We finally arrive in Venezuela, where it is only right to men- tion, in the first place, the work of Laureano Vallenilla Lanz (1870-1936). In his much discussed work, Cesarismo demo- crdtico'-which has aroused many heated controversies ever since it first appeared some thirty-five years ago-Vallenilla Lanz brought forth a new interpretation of the history of Venezuela and of Spanish America in general. The natural development of the Spanish American peoples-taking the case of Venezuela for an example-tends, in the opinion of Vallenilla Lanz, toward a democracy of the authoritarian type. Democracy from its very beginning has produced a process of leveling off, of equalizing and of mixing the races. This democracy is of the autocratic " Biografia del Caribe (Buenos Aires, 1945). English translation by Harriet de Onis: Caribbean, Sea of the New World (New York, 1946). Arciniegas is also author of America, tierra firme (Santiago de Chile, 1937); Los alemanes en la conquista de Amdrica (Buenos Aires, 1941); El caballero del Dorado: vida del conquistador Jimenez de Quesada (Buenos Aires, 1942); Entre la libertad y el miedo (Mdxico, 1952). The last three books have been translated into English: Germans in the Con- quest of America: A Sixteenth Century Venture (by Angel Flores, New York, 1943); The Knight of El Dorado: The Tale of Don Gonzalo de Quesada (by Mildred Adams, New York, 1942); The State of Latin America (by Harriet de Onis, New York, 1952). " La vida maravillosa de los libros (Bogoti-Medellin, 1941); Minerva en la rueca y otros ensayos (Bogots, 1949). " Complete title: Cesarismo democrdtico: estudio sabre las bases sociold- gicas de la constitucidn efectiva de Venezuela, 3d, ed. (Caracas, 1952). Vallenilla Lanz is also the author of Criticas de sinceridad y exactitud (Caracas, 1921) and Disgregacidn e integracidn: ensayo sobre to forma- cidn de Ia nacionalidal venezolana (Caracas, 1930). The dominant themes of his work bear upon the history and the social and political development of Spanish America, more especially of his own country. His points of view are very much his own. It is not superfluous to state here that Arciniegas is the author of one of the most attractive and comprehensive books that have ever been written about the Caribbean." More recently in Colombia, we note as outstanding the name of Jorge Zalamea (b. 1905), an excellent critic, equally well acquainted with the literatures of Spain, England, and France.1' We finally arrive in Venezuela, where it is only right to men- tion, in the first place, the work of Laureano Vallenilla Lanz (1870-1936). In his much discussed work, Cesarismo demo- certico"-which has aroused many heated controversies ever since it first appeared some thirty-five years ago-Vallenilla Lanz brought forth a new interpretation of the history of Venezuela and of Spanish America in general. The natural development of the Spanish American peoples-taking the case of Venezuela for an example-tends, in the opinion of Vallenilla Lanz, toward a democracy of the authoritarian type. Democracy from its very beginning has produced a process of leveling off, of equalizing and of mixing the races. This democracy is of the autocratic " Biografia del Caribe (Buenos Aires, 1945). English translation by Harriet de Onis: Caribbean, Sea of the New World (New York, 1946). Arciniegas is also author of America, tierra firme (Santiago de Chile, 1937); Los alemanes en la conquista de America (Buenos Aires, 1941); El caballero del Dorado: vida del conquistador Jiminez de Quesada (Buenos Aires, 1942); Entre Ia libertad y el miedo (Mxico, 1952). The last three books have been translated into English: Germans in the Con- quest of America: A Sixteenth Century Venture (by Angel Flores, New York, 1943); The Knight of El Dorado: The Tale of Don Gonzalo de Quesada (by Mildred Adams, New York, 1942); The State of Latin America (by Harriet de Onis, New York, 1952). " La vida maravillosa de los libros (Bogots-Medellin, 1941); Minerva en la rueca y otros ensayos (Bogoti, 1949). " Complete title: Cesarismo demoerdtico: estudio sabre las bases socioi- gicas de la constitucisin efectiva de Venezuela, 3d, ed. (Caracas, 1952). Vallenilla Lanz is also the author of Criticas de sinceridad y exactitud (Caracas, 1921) and Disgregaciin e integracion: ensayo sabre to forma- cidn de to nacionalidal venezolana (Caracas, 1930).  LITERATURE 95 type because the caudillos, and not the constitutions imported from Europe and the United States, have become the real in- carnation of the will of the people. The caudillo is the "necessary policeman" who assures order in the chaotic development of our democracies. By identifying his position with that of the dictator- ship of Juan Vicente G6mez, the bitter truth--though only a partial truth-of some of his theses has passed unnoticed. A little younger than Vallenilla Lanz and in a diametrically opposite ideological position, Rufino Blanco Fombona (1874- 1944) was also violently opposed and discussed. His work has several aspects": on the one hand, Blanco Fombona was, along with the Argentine Manuel Ugarte, one of the theorists of anti- imperialism; on the other, he is one of the best critics of mo- dernismo. In his historical essays, he judges severely the errors of Spain, which he attributes to the faulty organization of the state --but he exalts the virtues of the Spanish people. Closer to us in time, Augusta Mijares (b. 1897) and Mariano Pic6n Salas (b. 1901) have made remarkable contributions to the Venezuelan essay. Both are of liberal attitude. Mijares is known, especially, for having attempted a complete refutation of the thesis of Vallenilla Lanz with the most optimistic of interpre- tations of the Spanish American social structure and develop- ment." Pic6n Salas, also an author of short stories and novelistic biographies, has been interested in the interpretation of the historical, cultural, and political phenomena of Spanish America, particularly those of his own country." His manner of conception " Best-known volumes of essays: Letras y letrados de Hispanoamerica (Paris, 1908); La evolutcidon poltica y social de Hispanoamirica (Madrid, 1911); La ldmpara de Aladino (Madrid, 1915); Grandes escritores de Amirica (Madrid, 1916); El conquistador espaol del siglo XVI (Madrid, 1921). See La interpretactin pesimista de la sociologia hispanoamericana (Madrid, 1952); also Hombres a ideas en Amirica (Caracas, 1940). " His most significant works on this subject are: Formacidn y proceso de la literatura venezolana (Caracas, 1940); De la conquista a la in- dependencia (Mixico, 1944); Europa-Amrica: preguntas a la esinge de la cultura (Mxico, 1947); Comprension de Venezuela (Caracas, 1950). LITERATURE 95 LITERATURE 95 type because the caudillos, and not the constitutions imported from Europe and the United States, have become the real in- carnation of the will of the people. The caudillo is the "necessary policeman" who assures order in the chaotic development of our democracies. By identifying his position with that of the dictator- ship of Juan Vicente G6mez, the bitter truth-though only a partial truth-of some of his theses has passed unnoticed. A little younger than Vallenilla Lanz and in a diametrically opposite ideological position, Rufino Blanco Fombona (1874- 1944) was also violently opposed and discussed. His work has several aspects"0: on the one hand, Blanco Fombona was, along with the Argentine Manuel Ugarte, one of the theorists of anti- imperialism; on the other, he is one of the best critics of mo- dernismo. In his historical essays, he judges severely the errors of Spain, which he attributes to the faulty organization of the state -but he exalts the virtues of the Spanish people. Closer to us in time, Augusto Mijares (b. 1897) and Mariano Pic6n Salas (b. 1901) have made remarkable contributions to the Venezuelan essay. Both are of liberal attitude. Mijares is known, especially, for having attempted a complete refutation of the thesis of Vallenilla Lanz with the most optimistic of interpre- tations of the Spanish American social structure and develop- ment." Pion Salas, also an author of short stories and novelistic biographies, has been interested in the interpretation of the historical, cultural, and political phenomena of Spanish America, particularly those of his own country." His manner of conception a Best-known volumes of essays: Letras y letrados de Hispanoamirica (Paris, 1908); La evolucidn politica y social de Hispanoamrica (Madrid, 1911); La ldnpara de Aladino (Madrid, 1915); Grandes escritores de Amirica (Madrid, 1916); El conquistador espanol del siglo XVI (Madrid, 1921). See La interpretacin pesimista de la sociologia hispanoamericana (Madrid, 1952); also Hombres e ideas en Amirica (Caracas, 1940). " His most significant works on this subject are: Formacion y proceso de la literatura venezolana (Caracas, 1940); De la conquista a la in- dependencia (Mexico, 1944); Europa-Amirica: preguntas a la esinge de la cultura (Mixico, 1947); Comprensidon de Venezuela (Caracas, 1950). type because the caudillos, and not the constitutions imported from Europe and the United States, have become the real in- carnation of the will of the people. The caudillo is the "necessary policeman" who assures order in the chaotic development of our democracies. By identifying his position with that of the dictator- ship of Juan Vicente G6mez, the bitter truth--though only a partial truth-of some of his theses has passed unnoticed. A little younger than Vallenilla Lanz and in a diametrically opposite ideological position, Rufino Blanco Fombona (1874- 1944) was also violently opposed and discussed. His work has several aspects20: on the one hand, Blanco Fombona was, along with the Argentine Manuel Ugarte, one of the theorists of anti- imperialism; on the other, he is one of the best critics of mo- dernismo. In his historical essays, he judges severely the errors of Spain, which he attributes to the faulty organization of the state -but he exalts the virtues of the Spanish people. Closer to us in time, Augusto Mijares (b. 1897) and Mariano Pic6n Salas (b. 1901) have made remarkable contributions to the Venezuelan essay. Both are of liberal attitude. Mijares is known, especially, for having attempted a complete refutation of the thesis of Vallenilla Lanz with the most optimistic of interpre- tations of the Spanish American social structure and develop- ment.0 Pic6n Salas, also an author of short stories and novelistic biographies, has been interested in the interpretation of the historical, cultural, and political phenomena of Spanish America, particularly those of his own country." His manner of conception " Best-known volumes of essays: Letras y letrados de Hispanoamirica (Paris, 1908); La evoluction politica y social de Hispanoamrica (Madrid, 1911); La ldmpara de Aladino (Madrid, 1915); Grandes escritores de Amirica (Madrid, 1916); El conquistador espaol del siglo XVI (Madrid, 1921). " See La interpretaction pesimista de la sociologia hispanoamericana (Madrid, 1952); also Hombres a ideas en Amirica (Caracas, 1940). " His most significant works on this subject are: Formactin y proceso de la literatura venezolana (Caracas, 1940); De la conquista a la in- dependencia (Mexico, 1944); Europa-Amirica: preguntas a la esfinge de la cultura (Mexico, 1947); Comprensidn de Venezuela (Caracas, 1950).  96 The Caribbean is truly hemispheric: he thinks in large categories. His prose is excellent: fluid without being ornate or elaborate. II I am sure that in this rapid inventory I have omitted many names that ought to be mentioned. And, in this respect, I admit that the selection of those which appear here may show much of my personal inclination and taste. I only wish to add now, in conclusion, one last consideration of a general character concerning the essay in the Caribbean countries (a consideration, certainly, that would extend to the rest of Spanish America). The most interesting fact for me is that even though a great part of the work of the essayists is di- rected toward literary and wsthetic criticism, another portion, no less extensive, has to do with living, immediate realities in the various countries. These writers tend generally toward interpre- tations of national character, of basic sociological, political, and economic factors, and of the achievements and frustrations in our history, in an effort to find possible solutions for our problems. In view of this, it may well be said that they represent the soul- searchings of the peoples to which they belong. 96 The Caribbean 96 The Caribbean is truly hemispheric: he thinks in large categories. His prose is excellent: fluid without being ornate or elaborate. II I am sure that in this rapid inventory I have omitted many names that ought to be mentioned. And, in this respect, I admit that the selection of those which appear here may show much of my personal inclination and taste. I only wish to add now, in conclusion, one last consideration of a general character concerning the essay in the Caribbean countries (a consideration, certainly, that would extend to the rest of Spanish America). The most interesting fact for me is that even though a great part of the work of the essayists is di- rected toward literary and osthetic criticism, another portion, no less extensive, has to do with living, immediate realities in the various countries. These writers tend generally toward interpre- tations of national character, of basic sociological, political, and economic factors, and of the achievements and frustrations in our history, in an effort to find possible solutions for our problems. In view of this, it may well be said that they represent the soul- searchings of the peoples to which they belong. is truly hemispheric: he thinks in large categories. His prose is excellent: fluid without being ornate or elaborate. II I am sure that in this rapid inventory I have omitted many names that ought to be mentioned. And, in this respect, I admit that the selection of those which appear here may show much of my personal inclination and taste. I only wish to add now, in conclusion, one last consideration of a general character concerning the essay in the Caribbean countries (a consideration, certainly, that would extend to the rest of Spanish America). The most interesting fact for me is that even though a great part of the work of the essayists is di- rected toward literary and msthetic criticism, another portion, no less extensive, has to do with living, immediate realities in the various countries. These writers tend generally toward interpre- tations of national character, of basic sociological, political, and economic factors, and of the achievements and frustrations in our history, in an effort to find possible solutions for our problems. In view of this, it may well be said that they represent the soul- searchings of the peoples to which they belong.  8 8 Scott Seegers: PROBLEMS OF THE PRESS IN THE CARIBBEAN IT IS EASY ENOUGH to look down one's nose at a nation, or to scorn the newspaper editors because the press of their country is not free to dig out the facts and publish them without fear of reprisal. "Why don't the newspapers have more courage?" is a question I have often heard hurled in criticism at this or that Latin American country. "Why do they stand for such treat- ment?" Freedom of the press cannot exist without editors of courage and integrity, but these qualities alone are no guarantee that freedom of expression will survive. The editor in jail, the editor in the hospital or dead, or the editor taking refuge in a foreign embassy cannot publish his newspaper, no matter how great his personal courage. Even if the editor is at liberty and unharmed, he cannot pub- lish if armed guards keep anyone from entering the newspaper plant. Neither can he publish if the presses have been wrecked by a "spontaneous" mob. The editor in exile may find a way to publish, but the distribution of his paper in his own country can be a risky business for those who read it and pass it on. Sometimes it is hard to believe that men will work against such odds simply for the sake of getting information to the peo- 97 Scott Seegers: PROBLEMS OF THE PRESS IN THE CARIBBEAN IT IS EASY ENOUGH to look down one's nose at a nation, or to scorn the newspaper editors because the press of their country is not free to dig out the facts and publish them without fear of reprisal. "Why don't the newspapers have more courage?" is a question I have often heard hurled in criticism at this or that Latin American country. "Why do they stand for such treat- ment?" Freedom of the press cannot exist without editors of courage and integrity, but these qualities alone are no guarantee that freedom of expression will survive. The editor in jail, the editor in the hospital or dead, or the editor taking refuge in a foreign embassy cannot publish his newspaper, no matter how great his personal courage. Even if the editor is at liberty and unharmed, he cannot pub- lish if armed guards keep anyone from entering the newspaper plant. Neither can he publish if the presses have been wrecked by a "spontaneous" mob. The editor in exile may find a way to publish, but the distribution of his paper in his own country can be a risky business for those who read it and pass it on. Sometimes it is hard to believe that men will work against such odds simply for the sake of getting information to the peo- 97 Scott Seegers: PROBLEMS OF THE PRESS IN THE CARIBBEAN IT IS EASY ENOUGH to look down one's nose at a nation, or to scorn the newspaper editors because the press of their country is not free to dig out the facts and publish them without fear of reprisal. "Why don't the newspapers have more courage?" is a question I have often heard hurled in criticism at this or that Latin American country. "Why do they stand for such treat- ment?" Freedom of the press cannot exist without editors of courage and integrity, but these qualities alone are no guarantee that freedom of expression will survive. The editor in jail, the editor in the hospital or dead, or the editor taking refuge in a foreign embassy cannot publish his newspaper, no matter how great his personal courage. Even if the editor is at liberty and unharmed, he cannot pub- lish if armed guards keep anyone from entering the newspaper plant. Neither can he publish if the presses have been wrecked by a "spontaneous" mob. The editor in exile may find a way to publish, but the distribution of his paper in his own country can be a risky business for those who read it and pass it on. Sometimes it is hard to believe that men will work against such odds simply for the sake of getting information to the peo-  98 The Caribbean ple. For the price of discovery or capture can he the man's life -or even the lives of his family. And the greatest success he can hope for is to stay out of jail. Nobody ever got rich operating a clandestine press. So press freedom in any country depends upon a good deal more than the will of the newspaper editors. Among other things, it depends on tradition. The strong central government, with con- siderable arbitrary authority vested in the presidency, is a tradi- tion in Latin America. Even in Costa Rica, one of the world's most liberal and democratic countries, mayors and provincial gov- ernors are not elected by the people-they are appointed by the president. The details vary from one country to another, but a president who, by the terms of his own constitution, can fire a state governor and hire another one, who can dissolve congress, and even suspend the constitution itself-a man in such position need not worry too much about jailing an editor whose criticisms seem likely to stir up trouble for the government. Even in the presence of such powers, the press can operate with normal freedom so long as the powers are used with wisdom and moderation. Mexico, Cuba, Costa Rica, Chile-all these countries have a free press under such conditions. The real trouble arises when a government to which such powers are normal begins to abuse its authority. Dictatorial methods breed corruption, and corruption breeds dictatorship. The dictatorial or the corrupt government's best hope of staying in power lies in keeping the people from knowing what is going on. Because, no matter how blatantly a ruler may seem to disregard his people's wishes, when they have had all they can stand, out he goes. His army, his decree-laws, his armed personal bodyguards notwithstanding, he goes. Guillaume Sam of Haiti went-in pieces. Machado of Cuba barely escaped the same bloody end. When the salvadorenos could no longer bear the rule of HernAndez Martinez, they quit work. A whole nation 98 The Caribbean 98 The Caribbean ple. For the price of discovery or capture can be the man's life -or even the lives of his family. And the greatest success he can hope for is to stay out of jail. Nobody ever got rich operating a clandestine press. So press freedom in any country depends upon a good deal more than the will of the newspaper editors. Among other things, it depends on tradition. The strong central government, with con- siderable arbitrary authority vested in the presidency, is a tradi- tion in Latin America. Even in Costa Rica, one of the world's most liberal and democratic countries, mayors and provincial gov- ernors are not elected by the people-they are appointed by the president. The details vary from one country to another, but a president who, by the terms of his own constitution, can fire a state governor and hire another one, who can dissolve congress, and even suspend the constitution itself-a man in such position need not worry too much about jailing an editor whose criticisms seem likely to stir up trouble for the government. Even in the presence of such powers, the press can operate with normal freedom so long as the powers are used with wisdom and moderation. Mexico, Cuba, Costa Rica, Chile-all these countries have a free press under such conditions. The real trouble arises when a government to which such powers are normal begins to abuse its authority. Dictatorial methods breed corruption, and corruption breeds dictatorship. The dictatorial or the corrupt government's best hope of staying in power lies in keeping the people from knowing what is going on. Because, no matter how blatantly a ruler may seem to disregard his people's wishes, when they have had all they can stand, out he goes. His army, his decree-laws, his armed personal bodyguards notwithstanding, he goes. Guillaume Sam of Haiti went-in pieces. Machado of Cuba barely escaped the same bloody end. When the salvadoresos could no longer bear the rule of Herndndez Martinez, they quit work. A whole nation ple. For the price of discovery or capture can be the man's life -or even the lives of his family. And the greatest success he can hope for is to stay out of jail. Nobody ever got rich operating a clandestine press. So press freedom in any country depends upon a good deal more than the will of the newspaper editors. Among other things, it depends on tradition. The strong central government, with con- siderable arbitrary authority vested in the presidency, is a tradi- tion in Latin America. Even in Costa Rica, one of the world's most liberal and democratic countries, mayors and provincial gov- ernors are not elected by the people-they are appointed by the president. The details vary from one country to another, but a president who, by the terms of his own constitution, can fire a state governor and hire another one, who can dissolve congress, and even suspend the constitution itself-a man in such position need not worry too much about jailing an editor whose criticisms seem likely to stir up trouble for the government. Even in the presence of such powers, the press can operate with normal freedom so long as the powers are used with wisdom and moderation. Mexico, Cuba, Costa Rica, Chile-all these countries have a free press under such conditions. The real trouble arises when a government to which such powers are normal begins to abuse its authority. Dictatorial methods breed corruption, and corruption breeds dictatorship. The dictatorial or the corrupt government's best hope of staying in power lies in keeping the people from knowing what is going on. Because, no matter how blatantly a ruler may seem to disregard his people's wishes, when they have had all they can stand, out he goes. His army, his decree-laws, his armed personal bodyguards notwithstanding, he goes. Guillaume Sam of Haiti went-in pieces. Machado of Cuba barely escaped the same bloody end. When the salvadorenos could no longer bear the rule of Hernandez Martinez, they quit work. A whole nation  LITERATURE 99 sat down, immovable under the muzzles of the machine guns. After a few days, the thoroughly baffled dictator departed. He was followed a few months later under the same circumstances by Ubico of Guatemala, a man who had every reason to believe that everything was nicely under control. More recently, when the poverty-stricken, largely illiterate Bolivians felt that they could no longer stomach the brutalities of the regime headed by Colonel Gualberto Villarroel, they marched on the presidential palace. Armed with clubs and stones, with machetes and farm tools, they faced the machine guns and the rifle fire and the tanks. They forced the wrought-iron gates and massive doors of the govern- ment buildings and killed their oppressors in a more shocking and violent manner than any ruler since Mussolini. Dictators depend upon armies to protect them from the people. Incredibly, they seem to forget that the army is also the people, and in the final holocaust the army is always found on the peo- ple's side. The honest newspaperman is also on the side of the people. It is his job to tell the people how they are being governed, to tell them what kind of value they are getting for their money. To the government with much to hide, this is akin to treason. Such a government has a number of ways of silencing or con- trolling the press. In the absolute type of dictatorship, critics are usually given one or more chances to get in line. If they persist in heresy they are fined, or jailed, or beaten up. Their plants are wrecked or confiscated, or taxed out of their control. Often the individuals themselves simply vanish. The last surviving Western Hemisphere example of this personalista type of absolute ruler is Trujillo of the Dominican Republic. More usual today is the limited, or so-called "soft" dictator- ship, in which the editor is more or less his own hostage for what he prints. He knows to a fairly precise degree what he can get away with in news coverage and criticism. If he transgresses that invisible but definite line, he is disciplined. An ingenious extension of this type of rule is to allow a certain amount of LITERATURE 99 LITERATURE 99 sat down, immovable under the muzzles of the machine guns. After a few days, the thoroughly baffled dictator departed. He was followed a few months later under the same circumstances by Ubico of Guatemala, a man who had every reason to believe that everything was nicely under control. More recently, when the poverty-stricken, largely illiterate Bolivians felt that they could no longer stomach the brutalities of the regime headed by Colonel Gualberto Villarroel, they marched on the presidential palace. Armed with clubs and stones, with machetes and farm tools, they faced the machine guns and the rifle fire and the tanks. They forced the wrought-iron gates and massive doors of the govern- ment buildings and killed their oppressors in a more shocking and violent manner than any ruler since Mussolini. Dictators depend upon armies to protect them from the people. Incredibly, they seem to forget that the army is also the people, and in the final holocaust the army is always found on the peo- ple's side. The honest newspaperman is also on the side of the people. It is his job to tell the people how they are being governed, to tell them what kind of value they are getting for their money. To the government with much to hide, this is akin to treason. Such a government has a number of ways of silencing or con- trolling the press. In the absolute type of dictatorship, critics are usually given one or more chances to get in line. If they persist in heresy they are fined, or jailed, or beaten up. Their plants are wrecked or confiscated, or taxed out of their control. Often the individuals themselves simply vanish. The last surviving Western Hemisphere example of this personalista type of absolute ruler is Trujillo of the Dominican Republic. More usual today is the limited, or so-called "soft" dictator- ship, in which the editor is more or less his own hostage for what he prints. He knows to a fairly precise degree what he can get away with in news coverage and criticism. If he transgresses that invisible but definite line, he is disciplined. An ingenious extension of this type of rule is to allow a certain amount of sat down, immovable under the muzzles of the machine guns. After a few days, the thoroughly baffled dictator departed. He was followed a few months later under the same circumstances by Ubico of Guatemala, a man who had every reason to believe that everything was nicely under control. More recently, when the poverty-stricken, largely illiterate Bolivians felt that they could no longer stomach the brutalities of the regime headed by Colonel Gualberto Villarroel, they marched on the presidential palace. Armed with clubs and stones, with machetes and farm tools, they faced the machine guns and the rifle fire and the tanks. They forced the wrought-iron gates and massive doors of the govern- ment buildings and killed their oppressors in a more shocking and violent manner than any ruler since Mussolini. Dictators depend upon armies to protect them from the people. Incredibly, they seem to forget that the army is also the people, and in the final holocaust the army is always found on the peo- ple's side. The honest newspaperman is also on the side of the people. It is his job to tell the people how they are being governed, to tell them what kind of value they are getting for their money. To the government with much to hide, this is akin to treason. Such a government has a number of ways of silencing or con- trolling the press. In the absolute type of dictatorship, critics are usually given one or more chances to get in line. If they persist in heresy they are fined, or jailed, or beaten up. Their plants are wrecked or confiscated, or taxed out of their control. Often the individuals themselves simply vanish. The last surviving Western Hemisphere example of this personalista type of absolute ruler is Trujillo of the Dominican Republic. More usual today is the limited, or so-called "soft" dictator- ship, in which the editor is more or less his own hostage for what he prints. He knows to a fairly precise degree what he can get away with in news coverage and criticism. If he transgresses that invisible but definite line, he is disciplined. An ingenious extension of this type of rule is to allow a certain amount of  100 The Caribbean 100 The Caribbean 100 The Caribbean criticism both as a safety valve and as a public relations display to refute the charge of dictatorship. However, the government retains all the means of press control and can apply the squeeze whenever the criticism or the disclosures seem likely to cause embarrassment or trouble. A prime example of this type of more or less easygoing dictator- ship is that of General Anastasio Somoza of Nicaragua. For years an opposition that is not too prosperous and not too effec- tive has been permitted in Nicaragua. But in April, 1954, the government announced discovery of a plot to kill Somoza. Immediately the independent newspapers La Prensa, Flecha, and Gran Diario were clapped under rigid censorship. Pedro Joaquin Chamorro, editor of La Prensa, was jailed-and he is still in jail, without having been brought to trial. HernAn Rob- leto, editor of Flecha, was a bit quicker than his colleague. He made it to the Costa Rican embassy, where he remains. Somoza's government will not give him safe conduct out of the country. Meantime, the Inter-American Press Association reports that Flecha's circulation has dropped to almost nothing, because Nicaraguans are afraid to be seen reading it. A plot against a president's life calls for action, of course. Maybe there was such a plot in this case. Also, maybe there was not. In the library of dictatorial fiction, such plots are a standard reference work. There are other ways of keeping the press in line. One is to make the government the sole importer of newsprint. Another is the confiscatory, retroactive tax. Peron of Argentina polished this fiscal gem to a high gloss. Retroactive fines for real or imagined offenses are also useful. A very familiar form of coercion is pressure on merchants to withdraw the advertising from the newspaper out of favor. Most publishers in Latin America operate on a rather slender margin. Loss of a few important advertisers can often mean the difference between survival and failure for a newspaper. criticism both as a safety valve and as a public relations display to refute the charge of dictatorship. However, the government retains all the means of press control and can apply the squeeze whenever the criticism or the disclosures seem likely to cause embarrassment or trouble. A prime example of this type of more or less easygoing dictator- ship is that of General Anastasio Somoza of Nicaragua. For years an opposition that is not too prosperous and not too effec- tive has been permitted in Nicaragua. But in April, 1954, the government announced discovery of a plot to kill Somoza. Immediately the independent newspapers La Prensa, Flecha, and Gran Diario were clapped under rigid censorship. Pedro Joaquin Chamorro, editor of La Prensa, was jailed-and he is still in jail, without having been brought to trial. Herndn Rob- leto, editor of Flecha, was a bit quicker than his colleague. He made it to the Costa Rican embassy, where he remains. Somoza's government will not give him safe conduct out of the country. Meantime, the Inter-American Press Association reports that Flecha's circulation has dropped to almost nothing, because Nicaraguans are afraid to be seen reading it. A plot against a president's life calls for action, of course. Maybe there was such a plot in this case. Also, maybe there was not. In the library of dictatorial fiction, such plots are a standard reference work. There are other ways of keeping the press in line. One is to make the government the sole importer of newsprint. Another is the confiscatory, retroactive tax. Peron of Argentina polished this fiscal gem to a high gloss. Retroactive fines for real or imagined offenses are also useful. A very familiar form of coercion is pressure on merchants to withdraw the advertising from the newspaper out of favor. Most publishers in Latin America operate on a rather slender margin. Loss of a few important advertisers can often mean the difference between survival and failure for a newspaper. criticism both as a safety valve and as a public relations display to refute the charge of dictatorship. However, the government retains all the means of press control and can apply the squeeze whenever the criticism or the disclosures seem likely to cause embarrassment or trouble. A prime example of this type of more or less easygoing dictator- ship is that of General Anastasio Somoza of Nicaragua. For years an opposition that is not too prosperous and not too effec- tive has been permitted in Nicaragua. But in April, 1954, the government announced discovery of a plot to kill Somoza. Immediately the independent newspapers La Prensa, Flecha, and Gran Diario were clapped under rigid censorship. Pedro Joaquin Chamorro, editor of La Prensa, was jailed-and he is still in jail, without having been brought to trial. Hernan Rob- leto, editor of Flecha, was a bit quicker than his colleague. He made it to the Costa Rican embassy, where he remains. Somoza's government will not give him safe conduct out of the country. Meantime, the Inter-American Press Association reports that Flecha's circulation has dropped to almost nothing, because Nicaraguans are afraid to be seen reading it. A plot against a president's life calls for action, of course. Maybe there was such a plot in this case. Also, maybe there was not. In the library of dictatorial fiction, such plots are a standard reference work. There are other ways of keeping the press in line. One is to make the government the sole importer of newsprint. Another is the confiscatory, retroactive tax. Peron of Argentina polished this fiscal gem to a high gloss. Retroactive fines for real or imagined offenses are also useful. A very familiar form of coercion is pressure on merchants to withdraw the advertising from the newspaper out of favor. Most publishers in Latin America operate on a rather slender margin. Loss of a few important advertisers can often mean the difference between survival and failure for a newspaper.  LITERATURE 101 All this sounds as if the government and the press are con- genital, natural antagonists. That is just what they are. In any country, the government is the chief keeper of secrets. Bureaucrats keep secrets because of military security, or because of the natural desire to get on with a program without being hampered by criticism and questioning. They also keep secrets in order to cover up somebody's blunders, or somebody's crooked- ness. If there is the slightest doubt of a document's security as- pects, the instinct in the United States government is to stamp it "Restricted" and keep it a secret. Because, if you don't, two years or twenty years later some headline-hunting investigator may charge you with masterminding a communist conspiracy and demand your scalp. So a government, for whatever reasons, has to keep secrets. Since all these matters are the people's business, it is the re- sponsibility of the press to let the people know. This conflict of function sometimes makes for some very fancy situations. II I can give you a quick run-down on the status of freedom of the press in the Caribbean area today. In Mexico the press has been free to criticize, ridicule, or condemn the government since long before World War II. One practical result is that Mexico is governed under the intense public scrutiny that is necessary before good government can evolve. Another is that publishing has become a major industry in Mexico and an important factor in the country's economy. In Guatemala it is too early to say what freedom the press may find under Castillo Armas. The communists are illegal there, and their paper, Nuestro Diario, folded when the Arbenz govern- ment fled. Since the other papers were against Arbenz anyhow, they now are happy to support Castillo. Honduras has a freedom of the press that is surprising in view of the tradition of one-man rule imposed by Carias Andino. How- ever, in his later years Carias relaxed notably, and his successor, LITERATURE 101 All this sounds as if the government and the press are con- genital, natural antagonists. That is just what they are. In any country, the government is the chief keeper of secrets. Bureaucrats keep secrets because of military security, or because of the natural desire to get on with a program without being hampered by criticism and questioning. They also keep secrets in order to cover up somebody's blunders, or somebody's crooked- ness. If there is the slightest doubt of a document's security as- pects, the instinct in the United States government is to stamp it "Restricted" and keep it a secret. Because, if you don't, two years or twenty years later some headline-hunting investigator may charge you with masterminding a communist conspiracy and demand your scalp. So a government, for whatever reasons, has to keep secrets. Since all these matters are the people's business, it is the re- sponsibility of the press to let the people know. This conflict of function sometimes makes for some very fancy situations, II I can give you a quick run-down on the status of freedom of the press in the Caribbean area today. In Mexico the press has been free to criticize, ridicule, or condemn the government since long before World War II. One practical result is that Mexico is governed under the intense public scrutiny that is necessary before good government can evolve. Another is that publishing has become a major industry in Mexico and an important factor in the country's economy. In Guatemala it is too early to say what freedom the press may find under Castillo Armas. The communists are illegal there, and their paper, Nuestro Diario, folded when the Arbenz govern- ment fled. Since the other papers were against Arbenz anyhow, they now are happy to support Castillo. Honduras has a freedom of the press that is surprising in view of the tradition of one-man rule imposed by Carias Andino. How- ever, in his later years Carias relaxed notably, and his successor, LITERATURE 101 All this sounds as if the government and the press are con- genital, natural antagonists. That is just what they are. In any country, the government is the chief keeper of secrets. Bureaucrats keep secrets because of military security, or because of the natural desire to get on with a program without being hampered by criticism and questioning. They also keep secrets in order to cover up somebody's blunders, or somebody's crooked- ness. If there is the slightest doubt of a document's security as- pects, the instinct in the United States government is to stamp it "Restricted" and keep it a secret. Because, if you don't, two years or twenty years later some headline-hunting investigator may charge you with masterminding a communist conspiracy and demand your scalp. So a government, for whatever reasons, has to keep secrets. Since all these matters are the people's business, it is the re- sponsibility of the press to let the people know. This conflict of function sometimes makes for some very fancy situations. II I can give you a quick run-down on the status of freedom of the press in the Caribbean area today. In Mexico the press has been free to criticize, ridicule, or condemn the government since long before World War II. One practical result is that Mexico is governed under the intense public scrutiny that is necessary before good government can evolve. Another is that publishing has become a major industry in Mexico and an important factor in the country's economy. In Guatemala it is too early to say what freedom the press may find under Castillo Armas. The communists are illegal there, and their paper, Nuestro Diario, folded when the Arbenz govern- ment fled. Since the other papers were against Arbenz anyhow, they now are happy to support Castillo. Honduras has a freedom of the press that is surprising in view of the tradition of one-man rule imposed by Carias Andino. How- ever, in his later years Carias relaxed notably, and his successor,  102 The Caribbean Dr. Juan Manuel Gdlvez, found that press control was not neces- sary to keeping his job. I have not been able to check the situation in El Salvador as thoroughly as I would like to do. However, I do have one report from a good source, and this says that El Salvador's newspapers operate with normal freedom. It adds that President Osorio would not be likely to apply sanction except in case of national emer- gency. Costa Rica, of course, has a press that is free, literate, out- spoken, and widely read. Panama's press is traditionally free and remains so, in the face of some extremely rapid and arbitrary changes of government. From the newspaperman's point of view, Colombia offers one of the saddest cases in Latin America. For many years, this was one of the very few Latin American countries where a profession- al journalist could count on freedom to do a respectable job and to make a living at it. Not any more. Since 1949 the country has been under a state of siege. Press censorship has been off and on during the whole period. Right now it is on. October 1, 1954, President Rojas Pinilla announced Decree number 3,000. This gem of legislation in some respects resembles Pern's official restrictions against unkind words. It provides severe and specific penalties for vaguely defined offenses that may be lumped under the categories of "injury" and "calumny." On Monday of this week (November 29, 1954), a new broadcasting statute banned from Colombian radio and television networks all com- ment on world and local news. The Venezuelan press may criti- cize-up to the point deemed convenient by the government. Press freedom seems to exists in Haiti, so far as I can determine. The papers are small and illiteracy is high, so the press has less influence than it otherwise might have. The press of Cuba is free, exuberant, and numerous, repre- senting every shade of political conviction. Its influence reaches far beyond the shores of the island. 102 The Caribbean Dr. Juan Manuel Gdlvez, found that press control was not neces- sary to keeping his job. I have not been able to check the situation in El Salvador as thoroughly as I would like to do. However, I do have one report from a good source, and this says that El Salvador's newspapers operate with normal freedom. It adds that President Osorio would not be likely to apply sanction except in case of national emer- gency. Costa Rica, of course, has a press that is free, literate, out- spoken, and widely read. Panama's press is traditionally free and remains so, in the face of some extremely rapid and arbitrary changes of government. From the newspaperman's point of view, Colombia offers one of the saddest cases in Latin America. For many years, this was one of the very few Latin American countries where a profession- al journalist could count on freedom to do a respectable job and to make a living at it. Not any more. Since 1949 the country has been under a state of siege. Press censorship has been off and on during the whole period. Right now it is on. October 1, 1954, President Rojas Pinilla announced Decree number 3,000. This gem of legislation in some respects resembles Per6n's official restrictions against unkind words. It provides severe and specific penalties for vaguely defined offenses that may be lumped under the categories of "injury" and "calumny." On Monday of this week (November 29, 1954), a new broadcasting statute banned from Colombian radio and television networks all com- ment on world and local news. The Venezuelan press may criti- cize-up to the point deemed convenient by the government. Press freedom seems to exists in Haiti, so far as I can determine. The papers are small and illiteracy is high, so the press has less influence than it otherwise might have. The press of Cuba is free, exuberant, and numerous, repre- senting every shade of political conviction. Its influence reaches far beyond the shores of the island. 102 The Caribbean Dr. Juan Manuel Gslvez, found that press control was not neces- sary to keeping his job. I have not been able to check the situation in El Salvador as thoroughly as I would like to do. However, I do have one report from a good source, and this says that El Salvador's newspapers operate with normal freedom. It adds that President Osorio would not be likely to apply sanction except in case of national emer- gency. Costa Rica, of course, has a press that is free, literate, out- spoken, and widely read. Panama's press is traditionally free and remains so, in the face of some extremely rapid and arbitrary changes of government. From the newspaperman's point of view, Colombia offers one of the saddest cases in Latin America. For many years, this was one of the very few Latin American countries where a profession- al journalist could count on freedom to do a respectable job and to make a living at it. Not any more. Since 1949 the country has been under a state of siege. Press censorship has been off and on during the whole period. Right now it is on. October 1, 1954, President Rojas Pinilla announced Decree number 3,000. This gem of legislation in some respects resembles Perdn's official restrictions against unkind words. It provides severe and specific penalties for vaguely defined offenses that may be lumped under the categories of "injury" and "calumny." On Monday of this week (November 29, 1954), a new broadcasting statute banned from Colombian radio and television networks all com- ment on world and local news. The Venezuelan press may criti- cize-up to the point deemed convenient by the government. Press freedom seems to exists in Haiti, so far as I can determine. The papers are small and illiteracy is high, so the press has less influence than it otherwise might have. The press of Cuba is free, exuberant, and numerous, repre- senting every shade of political conviction. Its influence reaches far beyond the shores of the island.  LITERATURE 103 LITERATURE 103 LITERATURE III Now, lest we get too smug about the freedom we enjoy in this country, let me point out that press freedom is a very transitory affair, no matter what the Constitution says. There is nothing permanent about it. Not here, nor anywhere else. This freedom, won against great odds, sometimes at a terrible price after years, or decades, or even generations of struggle, can be lost in six months. It can be lost in a week. And it can happen here. In the United States we are particularly vulnerable to the economic factors of publishing. A few years ago I agreed to do a job for a new newsmagazine to be published in Spanish. "How," I asked my prospective boss, "will you treat controversial news in the various countries?" "If it is a really important story, we will lay the facts right on the line, whether or not it gets us banned in the country con- cerned," he assured me. I was in Argentina when Per6n took over La Prrnsa. I got my facts, cabled them from Santiago, Chile, and watched subsequent issues of the magazine eagerly. The press of the world rose in arms, but not a word about La Prensa appeared in the so-called news magazine. Back in New York, I discovered that the magazine's greatest circulation had developed in Argentina. "What," I asked the editor," are you publishing about La Prensa?" He shrugged and looked at a spot on the wall. "What can we say that hasn't already been published?" he asked. There was the sad spectacle of an editor putting the squeeze on himself. And the magazine was soon banned in Argentina, so he lost that circulation anyhow. The squeeze is often even more direct than that. Not more than two years ago, a United States senator, whom I shall not name because he has since died, put pressure on Las Vegas, Nevada, merchants to pull their advertising out of the Las Vegas III Now, lest we get too smug about the freedom we enjoy in this country, let me point out that press freedom is a very transitory affair, no matter what the Constitution says. There is nothing permanent about it. Not heere, nor anywheere else. This freedom, won against great odds, sometimes at a terrible price after years, or decades, or even generations of struggle, can be lost in six months. It can be lost in a week. And it can happen here. In the United States we are particularly vulnerable to the economic factors of publishing. A few years ago I agreed to do a job for a new newsmagazine to be published in Spanish. "How," I asked my prospective boss, "will you treat controversial news in the various countries?" "If it is a really important story, we will lay the facts right on the line, whether or not it gets us banned in the country con- cerned," he assured me. I was in Argentina when Pern took over La Prensa. I got my facts, cabled them from Santiago, Chile, and watched subsequent issues of the magazine eagerly. The press of the world rose in arms, but not a word about La Prensa appeared in the so-called news magazine. Back in New York, I discovered that the magazine's greatest circulation had developed in Argentina. "What," I asked the editor," are you publishing about La Prensa?" He shrugged and looked at a spot on the wall. "What can we say that hasn't already been published?" he asked. There was the sad spectacle of an editor putting the squeeze on himself. And the magazine was soon banned in Argentina, so he lost that circulation anyhow. The squeeze is often even more direct than that. Not more than two years ago, a United States senator, whom I shall not name because he has since died, put pressure on Las Vegas, Nevada, merchants to pull their advertising out of the Las Vegas III Now, lest we get too smug about the freedom we enjoy in this country, let me point out that press freedom is a very transitory affair, no matter what the Constitution says. There is nothing permanent about it. Not here, nor anywhere else. This freedom, won against great odds, sometimes at a terrible price after years, or decades, or even generations of struggle, can be lost in six months. It can be lost in a week. And it can happen here. In the United States we are particularly vulnerable to the economic factors of publishing. A few years ago I agreed to do a job for a new newsmagazine to be published in Spanish. "How," I asked my prospective boss, "will you treat controversial news in the various countries?" "If it is a really important story, we will lay the facts right on the line, whether or not it gets us banned in the country con- cerned," he assured me. I was in Argentina when Perin took over La Prensa. I got my facts, cabled them from Santiago, Chile, and watched subsequent issues of the magazine eagerly. The press of the world rose in arms, but not a word about La Prensa appeared in the so-called news magazine. Back in New York, I discovered that the magazine's greatest circulation had developed in Argentina. "What," I asked the editor," are you publishing about La Prensa?" He shrugged and looked at a spot on the wall. "What can we say that hasn't already been published?" he asked. There was the sad spectacle of an editor putting the squeeze on himself. And the magazine was soon banned in Argentina, so he lost that circulation anyhow. The squeeze is often even more direct than that. Not more than two years ago, a United States senator, whom I shall not name because he has since died, put pressure on Las Vegas, Nevada, merchants to pull their advertising out of the Las Vegas  104 The Caribbean Sun. The paper lost revenue. Hank Greenspun, the paper's editor, sued the senator and won a substantial settlement. How is that as an example of an elected representative of the people standing guard over the people's freedoms? There was also the case of the Lake Charles, Louisiana, Ameri- can Press. In the summer of 1951, the paper dug up all the details on an illegal slot-machine ring that operated with the help of certain city officials. After several of the gamblers had been fined, and one given a jail sentence, County Prosecuting Attorney Griffin Hawkins brought an indictment against the paper's pub- lishers, editors, and a reporter. The charge? "Defaming" three convicted gamblers and sixteen city officials. The newspapermen were brought to trial. Hawkins threatened one of them with physical violence in the courtroom during the proceedings. The court action came to nothing, but there was never a clearer at- tempt by government to intimidate the press. A number of years ago, when I was working for a somewhat raucous publication, called the Miami Tribune, I heard the classic muffled voice on the telephone: "If you want to keep healthy, lay off that story." It was not a comfortable sensation. One of the Tribune reporters was beaten up. Another was shot at on the steps of the Dade County courthouse by an officer of the sheriff's staff. For many weeks I walked or rode in taxicabs because any Tribune man caught by the Miami traffic police at the wheel of an automobile was likely to be arrested, whether the car was mov- ing or merely parked at the curb. The standard set of charges was: reckless driving, speeding, driving while drunk, and resist- ing arrest. We had some lovely times trying to preserve a few of our guaranteed freedoms from those paid guardians of our freedoms! So it can happen here. It happens here all the time. IV The only way to avoid eventual government control of freedom of expression is to make a loud public outcry at every violation of 104 The Caribbean Sun. The paper lost revenue. Hank Greenspun, the paper's editor, sued the senator and won a substantial settlement. How is that as an example of an elected representative of the people standing guard over the people's freedoms? There was also the case of the Lake Charles, Louisiana, Ameri- can Press. In the summer of 1951, the paper dug up all the details on an illegal slot-machine ring that operated with the help of certain city officials. After several of the gamblers had been fined, and one given a jail sentence, County Prosecuting Attorney Griffin Hawkins brought an indictment against the paper's pub- lishers, editors, and a reporter. The charge? "Defaming" three convicted gamblers and sixteen city officials. The newspapermen were brought to trial. Hawkins threatened one of them with physical violence in the courtroom during the proceedings. The court action came to nothing, but there was never a clearer at- tempt by government to intimidate the press. A number of years ago, when I was working for a somewhat raucous publication, called the Miami Tribune, I heard the classic muffled voice on the telephone: "If you want to keep healthy, lay off that story." It was not a comfortable sensation. One of the Tribune reporters was beaten up. Another was shot at on the steps of the Dade County courthouse by an officer of the sheriff's staff. For many weeks I walked or rode in taxicabs because any Tribune man caught by the Miami traffic police at the wheel of an automobile was likely to be arrested, whether the car was mov- ing or merely parked at the curb. The standard set of charges was: reckless driving, speeding, driving while drunk, and resist- ing arrest. We had some lovely times trying to preserve a few of our guaranteed freedoms from those paid guardians of our freedoms! So it can happen here. It happens here all the time. IV The only way to avoid eventual government control of freedom of expression is to make a loud public outcry at every violation of 104 The Caribbean Sun. The paper lost revenue. Hank Greenspun, the paper's editor, sued the senator and won a substantial settlement. How is that as an example of an elected representative of the people standing guard over the people's freedoms? There was also the case of the Lake Charles, Louisiana, Ameri- can Press. In the summer of 1951, the paper dug up all the details on an illegal slot-machine ring that operated with the help of certain city officials. After several of the gamblers had been fined, and one given a jail sentence, County Prosecuting Attorney Griffin Hawkins brought an indictment against the paper's pub- lishers, editors, and a reporter. The charge? "Defaming" three convicted gamblers and sixteen city officials. The newspapermen were brought to trial. Hawkins threatened one of them with physical violence in the courtroom during the proceedings. The court action came to nothing, but there was never a clearer at- tempt by government to intimidate the press. A number of years ago, when I was working for a somewhat raucous publication, called the Miami Tribune, I heard the classic muffled voice on the telephone: "If you want to keep healthy, lay off that story." It was not a comfortable sensation. One of the Tribune reporters was beaten up. Another was shot at on the steps of the Dade County courthouse by an officer of the sheriff's staff. For many weeks I walked or rode in taxicabs because any Tribune man caught by the Miami traffic police at the wheel of an automobile was likely to be arrested, whether the car was mov- ing or merely parked at the curb. The standard set of charges was: reckless driving, speeding, driving while drunk, and resist- ing arrest. We had some lovely times trying to preserve a few of our guaranteed freedoms from those paid guardians of our freedoms! So it can happen here. It happens here all the time. IV The only way to avoid eventual government control of freedom of expression is to make a loud public outcry at every violation of  LITERATURE 105 this basic human right. In Latin America the Inter-American Press Association has done excellent work in this respect. The final difference between a free press and one enslaved can be of considerable importance to a nation. The free press puts forth all kinds of ideas from every source. The good ideas survive to enrich the country and to stimulate the nation's thought. But in the controlled press, ideas are dangerous. Ideas sprout like weeds in the newspapers and magazines of Mexico, Cuba, and Costa Rica, including those published by the respective gov- ernments. By contrast, I should like to give an example of original thought typical in the press of a country under one-man rule. In Seguridad Social, an official publication of the Dominican Republic, Dr. Hector A. Cabral Ortega tells at considerable length how Trujillo established political independence and liquidated the foreign debt. This, by the way, is a very safe subject in the Dominican Re- public. Not precisely a scoop, but safe, which is more important. The writer closed with a nice burst of rhetoric which included such words as grandeza, libertad, and civilizacion. But to Dr. Cabral Ortega these words seemed hardly to do justice to the subject. As a matter of fact, words seemed to fail him, for he used some from another source. To be specific, he borrowed the Twenty-third Psalm. His corrected version goes like this: Trujillo es mi pastor; nada me faltard. En lugares de delicados pastos me hard yacer; Junto a aguas de reposo me pastoreard. Confortard mi alma; Guiarame por sendas de justicia par amor de su nombre, Aunque ande en valle de sombras de muerte no temers mal alguno; Porque Trujillo estard conmigo. Well, that about sums up the situation to date, as I see it. LITERATURE 105 LITERATURE 105 this basic human right. In Latin America the Inter-American Press Association has done excellent work in this respect. The final difference between a free press and one enslaved can be of considerable importance to a nation. The free press puts forth all kinds of ideas from every source. The good ideas survive to enrich the country and to stimulate the nation's thought. But in the controlled press, ideas are dangerous. Ideas sprout like weeds in the newspapers and magazines of Mexico, Cuba, and Costa Rica, including those published by the respective gov- ernments. By contrast, I should like to give an example of original thought typical in the press of a country under one-man rule. In Seguridad Social, an official publication of the Dominican Republic, Dr. Hector A. Cabral Ortega tells at considerable length how Trujillo established political independence and liquidated the foreign debt. This, by the way, is a very safe subject in the Dominican Re- public. Not precisely a scoop, but safe, which is more important. The writer closed with a nice burst of rhetoric which included such words as grandeza, libertad, and civilizacion. But to Dr. Cabral Ortega these words seemed hardly to do justice to the subject. As a matter of fact, words seemed to fail him, for he used some from another source. To be specific, he borrowed the Twenty-third Psalm. His corrected version goes like this: Trujillo es mi pastor; nada me faltard. En lugares de delicados pastos me hard yacer; Junto a aguas de reposo me pastoreard. Confortard mi alma; Guiarame por sendas de justicia por amor de su nombre, Aunque ande en valle de sombras de muerte no temers mal alguno; Porque Trujillo estard conmigo. Well, that about sums up the situation to date, as I see it. this basic human right. In Latin America the Inter-American Press Association has done excellent work in this respect. The final difference between a free press and one enslaved can be of considerable importance to a nation. The free press puts forth all kinds of ideas from every source. The good ideas survive to enrich the country and to stimulate the nation's thought. But in the controlled press, ideas are dangerous. Ideas sprout like weeds in the newspapers and magazines of Mexico, Cuba, and Costa Rica, including those published by the respective gov- ernments. By contrast, I should like to give an example of original thought typical in the press of a country under one-man rule. In Seguridad Social, an official publication of the Dominican Republic, Dr. Hector A. Cabral Ortega tells at considerable length how Trujillo established political independence and liquidated the foreign debt. This, by the way, is a very safe subject in the Dominican Re- public. Not precisely a scoop, but safe, which is more important. The writer closed with a nice burst of rhetoric which included such words as grandeza, libertad, and civilizacion. But to Dr. Cabral Ortega these words seemed hardly to do justice to the subject. As a matter of fact, words seemed to fail him, for he used some from another source. To be specific, he borrowed the Twenty-third Psalm. His corrected version goes like this: Trujillo es mi pastor; nada me faltard. En lugares de delicados pastos me hard yacer; junto a aguas de reposo me pastoreard. Confortard mi alma; Guiarame por sendas de justicia par amor de su nombre, Aunque ande en valle de sombras de muerte no temerg mal alguno; Porque Trujillo estard conmigo. Well, that about sums up the situation to date, as I see it.   Part IV Part IV Part IV EDUCATION EDUCATION EDUCATION   Marjorie C. Johnston: LIBERAL EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN IN THE TWELVE REPUBLICS of the Caribbean, as in the Latin American states generally, education is largely the responsi- bility of the federal government. The educational system is highly centralized and is regulated by a national ministry or secretariat of education with authority in all matters pertaining to the schools, including organization, expenditures, teacher preparation, school property, salaries, plans of study, textbooks, examinations, pupil accounting, and supervision of both public and private educa- tional institutions. The minister of education generally holds also a responsible post in the administration of the universities. Edu- cation in the countries of the colonial mainland and island ter- ritories is strongly influenced in each instance by the respective system in France, Great Britain, the Netherlands, or the United States. We cannot generalize about the status of education in the Caribbean any more than we can about the economic, social, artistic, or religious aspects of culture in this region. Each re- public or dependency, as the case may be, has its own individual- ity and struggles with its own peculiar educational problems, con- ditioned as they are by the country's history, geography, racial composition, language, economic structure, political organization, or other relevant factor. Yet, in addition to centralized admin- 109 Marjorie C. Johnston: LIBERAL EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN IN THE TWELVE REPUBLICS of the Caribbean, as in the Latin American states generally, education is largely the responsi- bility of the federal government. The educational system is highly centralized and is regulated by a national ministry or secretariat of education with authority in all matters pertaining to the schools, including organization, expenditures, teacher preparation, school property, salaries, plans of study, textbooks, examinations, pupil accounting, and supervision of both public and private educa- tional institutions. The minister of education generally holds also a responsible post in the administration of the universities. Edu- cation in the countries of the colonial mainland and island ter- ritories is strongly influenced in each instance by the respective system in France, Great Britain, the Netherlands, or the United States. We cannot generalize about the status of education in the Caribbean any more than we can about the economic, social, artistic, or religious aspects of culture in this region. Each re- public or dependency, as the case may be, has its own individual- ity and struggles with its own peculiar educational problems, con- ditioned as they are by the country's history, geography, racial composition, language, economic structure, political organization, or other relevant factor. Yet, in addition to centralized admin- 109 Marjorie C. Johnston: LIBERAL EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN IN THE TWELVE REPUBLICS of the Caribbean, as in the Latin American states generally, education is largely the responsi- bility of the federal government. The educational system is highly centralized and is regulated by a national ministry or secretariat of education with authority in all matters pertaining to the schools, including organization, expenditures, teacher preparation, school property, salaries, plans of study, textbooks, examinations, pupil accounting, and supervision of both public and private educa- tional institutions. The minister of education generally holds also a responsible post in the administration of the universities. Edu- cation in the countries of the colonial mainland and island ter- ritories is strongly influenced in each instance by the respective system in France, Great Britain, the Netherlands, or the United States. We cannot generalize about the status of education in the Caribbean any more than we can about the economic, social, artistic, or religious aspects of culture in this region. Each re- public or dependency, as the case may be, has its own individual- ity and struggles with its own peculiar educational problems, con- ditioned as they are by the country's history, geography, racial composition, language, economic structure, political organization, or other relevant factor. Yet, in addition to centralized admin-  110 The Caribbean istration, there are some essential characteristics that apply more or less generally and should be kept in mind. Traditionally, the motivation for educational advancement has come from the upper classes, who were concerned almost ex- clusively with a classical type of education. Titles and degrees gave prestige and social status to the individual, whether or not he expected to practice the profession for which he studied, and it was not generally believed that manual workers needed much education. The orientation was thus in terms of a class-conscious intellectual elite, with little real attention to popular universal education. This concept, of course, has been changing rapidly during the last two or three decades, but such an underlying point of view accounts for many features of the curriculum and for some of the discrepancies between stated objectives and practice. It helps one understand, for example, why a rural normal school employs a gardener to tend a small plot of vegetables while the students who are taking a course designed to emphasize practical agriculture participate only through observation. Or why a Mexican student attending the University of California stated that the worst shock she had had in the United States was to see the president of a bank washing windows in the living room of his home, where preparation was being made for a party. Or why a group of secondary school teachers from Colombia were acutely embarrassed to discover that the hatless, coatless young man who met them at the railroad station in Ann Arbor was their English professor! Today, in most countries, elementary education is free and compulsory for children from age six or seven to fourteen or fifteen, but not universally available. In the cities, five or six years of schooling are provided in the primary grades, and a majority of school-age children are in attendance, although class- room space is often limited. In the British West Indies, for ex- ample, where the enrollment ratio is highest, it is not unusual 110 The Caribbean 110 The Caribbean istration, there are some essential characteristics that apply more or less generally and should be kept in mind. Traditionally, the motivation for educational advancement has come from the upper classes, who were concerned almost ex- clusively with a classical type of education. Titles and degrees gave prestige and social status to the individual, whether or not he expected to practice the profession for which he studied, and it was not generally believed that manual workers needed much education. The orientation was thus in terms of a class-conscious intellectual elite, with little real attention to popular universal education. This concept, of course, has been changing rapidly during the last two or three decades, but such an underlying point of view accounts for many features of the curriculum and for some of the discrepancies between stated objectives and practice. It helps one understand, for example, why a rural normal school employs a gardener to tend a small plot of vegetables while the students who are taking a course designed to emphasize practical agriculture participate only through observation. Or wlrv a Mexican student attending the University of California stated that the worst shock she had had in the United States was to see the president of a bank washing windows in the living room of his home, where preparation was being made for a party. Or why a group of secondary school teachers from Colombia were acutely embarrassed to discover that the hatless, coatless young man who met them at the railroad station in Ann Arbor was their English professor! Today, in most countries, elementary education is free and compulsory for children from age six or seven to fourteen or fifteen, but not universally available. In the cities, five or six years of schooling are provided in the primary grades, and a majority of school-age children are in attendance, although class- room space is often limited. In the British West Indies, for ex- ample, ohere the enrollment ratio is highest, it is not unusual istration, there are some essential characteristics that apply more or less generally and should be kept in mind. Traditionally, the motivation for educational advancement has come from the upper classes, who were concerned almost ex- clusively with a classical type of education. Titles and degrees gave prestige and social status to the individual, whether or not he expected to practice the profession for which he studied, and it was not generally believed that manual workers needed much education. The orientation was thus in terms of a class-conscious intellectual elite, with little real attention to popular universal education. This concept, of course, has been changing rapidly during the last two or three decades, but such an underlying point of view accounts for many features of the curriculum and for some of the discrepancies between stated objectives and practice. It helps one understand, for example, why a rural normal school employs a gardener to tend a small plot of vegetables while the students who are taking a course designed to emphasize practical agriculture participate only through observation. Or why a Mexican student attending the University of California stated that the worst shock she had had in the United States was to see the president of a bank washing windows in the living room of his home, where preparation was being made for a party. Or why a group of secondary school teachers from Colombia were acutely embarrassed to discover that the hatless, coatless young man who met them at the railroad station in Ann Arbor was their English professor! Today, in most countries, elementary education is free and compulsory for children from age six or seven to fourteen or fifteen, but not universally available. In the cities, five or six years of schooling are provided in the primary grades, and a majority of school-age children are in attendance, although class- room space is often limited. In the British West Indies, for ex- ample, where the enrollment ratio is highest, it is not unusual  EDUCATION 111 to find 175 to 200 children grouped in one large room, each group reciting under a teacher who is being supervised by a better-trained or more experienced teacher in general charge of the room. In the rural areas, fewer years of schooling are pro- vided and a lower percentage of attendance prevails. In 1951- 1952 Puerto Rico reported that 27 per cent of school-age children lacked educational opportunity. In Haiti it is estimated that probably no more than one-fifth of the children attend school. Cuba had facilities in 1950 for but half its children, and it is interesting to note that of the 2,700 urban schools and 3,550 rural schools in use that year, 280 urban and 172 rural buildings were owned by the Ministry of Education. All others were either rented or made available rent-free by individuals. Literacy figures are frequently unknown or unreliable, but a 1954 Unesco publication, Basic Facts and Figures, indicates that for the population ten years of age and over the percentages of illiteracy in the countries of the Caribbean may range from 22 to 90 per cent. The majority have an illiteracy rate of more than 50 per cent. This discouraging situation cannot be wholly ex- plained by lack of school facilities, dearth of teachers, and the obvious material reasons. No doubt it may be attributed in part to a lack of compelling desire for education on the part of the lower social and economic groups and to the fact that education has been organized and introduced from above rather than de- veloped through the needs and initiative of the people them- selves. Among other characteristics of education in these countries, we should mention in passing the following: Secondary educa- tion tends to be selective even when free and has as its principal aim the preparation of students for admission to the university. The single-track type of secondary and higher education, having as its goal a political career or liberal profession, is slowly yield- ing to social change-the emergence of a middle class and a labor movement, industrialization, changing patterns of occupa- tions, improved standards of living, woman suffrage. A few EDUCATION il to find 175 to 200 children grouped in one large room, each group reciting under a teacher who is being supervised by a better-trained or more experienced teacher in general charge of the room. In the rural areas, fewer years of schooling are pro- vided and a lower percentage of attendance prevails. In 1951- 1952 Puerto Rico reported that 27 per cent of school-age children lacked educational opportunity. In Haiti it is estimated that probably no more than one-fifth of the children attend school. Cuba had facilities in 1950 for but half its children, and it is interesting to note that of the 2,700 urban schools and 3,550 rural schools in use that year, 280 urban and 172 rural buildings were owned by the Ministry of Education. All others were either rented or made available rent-free by individuals. Literacy figures are frequently unknown or unreliable, but a 1954 Unesco publication, Basic Facts and Figures, indicates that for the population ten years of age and over the percentages of illiteracy in the countries of the Caribbean may range from 22 to 90 per cent. The majority have an illiteracy rate of more than 50 per cent. This discouraging situation cannot be wholly ex- plained by lack of school facilities, dearth of teachers, and the obvious material reasons. No doubt it may be attributed in part to a lack of compelling desire for education on the part of the lower social and economic groups and to the fact that education has been organized and introduced from above rather than de- veloped through the needs and initiative of the people them- selves. Among other characteristics of education in these countries, we should mention in passing the following: Secondary educa- tion tends to be selective even when free and has as its principal aim the preparation of students for admission to the university. The single-track type of secondary and higher education, having as its goal a political career or liberal profession, is slowly yield- ing to social change-the emergence of a middle class and a labor movement, industrialization, changing patterns of occupa- tions, improved standards of living, woman suffrage. A few EDUCATION 111 to find 175 to 200 children grouped in one large room, each group reciting under a teacher who is being supervised by a better-trained or more experienced teacher in general charge of the room. In the rural areas, fewer years of schooling are pro- vided and a lower percentage of attendance prevails. In 1951- 1952 Puerto Rico reported that 27 per cent of school-age children lacked educational opportunity. In Haiti it is estimated that probably no more than one-fifth of the children attend school. Cuba had facilities in 1950 for but half its children, and it is interesting to note that of the 2,700 urban schools and 3,550 rural schools in use that year, 280 urban and 172 rural buildings weere owned by the Ministry of Education. All others were either rented or made available rent-free by individuals. Literacy figures are frequently unknown or unreliable, but a 1954 Unesco publication, Basic Facts and Figures, indicates that for the population ten years of age and over the percentages of illiteracy in the countries of the Caribbean may range from 22 to 90 per cent. The majority have an illiteracy rate of more than 50 per cent. This discouraging situation cannot be wholly ex- plained by lack of school facilities, dearth of teachers, and the obvious material reasons. No doubt it may be attributed in part to a lack of compelling desire for education on the part of the lower social and economic groups and to the fact that education has been organized and introduced from above rather than de- veloped through the needs and initiative of the people them- selves. Among other characteristics of education in these countries, we should mention in passing the following: Secondary educa- tion tends to be selective even when free and has as its principal aim the preparation of students for admission to the university. The single-track type of secondary and higher education, having as its goal a political career or liberal profession, is slowly yield- ing to social change-the emergence of a middle class and a labor movement, industrialization, changing patterns of occupa- tions, improved standards of living, woman suffrage. A few  112 The Caribbean countries-the Dominican Republic, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Panama-even support more postprimary vocational and special- ized institutions than secondary schools of the traditional academic type. Coeducation is the exception rather than the rule in the years between kindergarten and university. Since the supply of textbooks is generally inadequate, the method almost invariably requires students to take full lecture notes and to copy subject matter or write extensively from dictation in their notebooks. Much emphasis is placed on memory work and final examinations. Many part-time teachers are employed for secondary-school and university classes. Public schools predominate in most countries, but private schools often receive government subsidies and gen- erally have more adequate equipment and less-crowded class- rooms. In Venezuela, for example, during the school year 1951- 1952 there were 18,272 secondary students enrolled in 52 public schools as contrasted with 8,850 secondary students in 79 private schools. In Colombia, Nicaragua, and the British West Indies, private schools enroll a greater number of secondary students than do the public or official schools. The universities, some of which are of venerable age, are generally composed of a collection of more or less independent faculties with rigidly prescribed courses of study for training in a limited number of professions. Law, theology, and medicine have seemed to be the most respected of the professions. Original- ly designed for the select few, the training entirely disregarded the individual abilities, needs, and desires of the students, except in the choice of the profession to be followed. In recent years, many changes have been taking place. There is a trend toward autonomy of the universities, with a consequent freedom from political influences, and a growing tendency to bring the uni- versity into more intimate contact with the social and economic needs and conditions of the country. Today extension courses and new faculties and schools are being opened, and abbreviated programs of study are being set up for the training of technicians of various kinds, commercial and diplomatic personnel, secondary- 112 The Caribbean countries-the Dominican Republic, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Panama-even support more postprimary vocational and special- ized institutions than secondary schools of the traditional academic type. Coeducation is the exception rather than the rule in the years between kindergarten and university. Since the supply of textbooks is generally inadequate, the method almost invariably requires students to take full lecture notes and to copy subject matter or write extensively from dictation in their notebooks. Much emphasis is placed on memory work and final examinations. Many part-time teachers are employed for secondary-school and university classes. Public schools predominate in most countries, but private schools often receive government subsidies and gen- erally have more adequate equipment and less-crowded class- rooms. In Venezuela, for example, during the school year 1951- 1952 there were 18,272 secondary students enrolled in 52 public schools as contrasted with 8,850 secondary students in 79 private schools. In Colombia, Nicaragua, and the British West Indies, private schools enroll a greater number of secondary students than do the public or official schools. The universities, some of which are of venerable age, are generally composed of a collection of more or less independent faculties with rigidly prescribed courses of study for training in a limited number of professions. Law, theology, and medicine have seemed to be the most respected of the professions. Original- ly designed for the select few, the training entirely disregarded the individual abilities, needs, and desires of the students, except in the choice of the profession to be followed. In recent years, many changes have been taking place. There is a trend toward autonomy of the universities, with a consequent freedom from political influences, and a growing tendency to bring the uni- versity into more intimate contact with the social and economic needs and conditions of the country. Today extension courses and new faculties and schools are being opened, and abbreviated programs of study are being set up for the training of technicians of various kinds, commercial and diplomatic personnel, secondary- 112 The Caribbean countries-the Dominican Republic, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Panama-even support more postprimary vocational and special- ized institutions than secondary schools of the traditional academic type. Coeducation is the exception rather than the rule in the years between kindergarten and university. Since the supply of textbooks is generally inadequate, the method almost invariably requires students to take full lecture notes and to copy subject matter or write extensively from dictation in their notebooks. Much emphasis is placed on memory work and final examinations. Many part-time teachers are employed for secondary-school and university classes. Public schools predominate in most countries, but private schools often receive government subsidies and gen- erally have more adequate equipment and less-crowded class- rooms. In Venezuela, for example, during the school year 1951- 1952 there were 18,272 secondary students enrolled in 52 public schools as contrasted with 8,850 secondary students in 79 private schools. In Colombia, Nicaragua, and the British West Indies, private schools enroll a greater number of secondary students than do the public or official schools. The universities, some of which are of venerable age, are generally composed of a collection of more or less independent faculties with rigidly prescribed courses of study for training in a limited number of professions. Law, theology, and medicine have seemed to be the most respected of the professions. Original- ly designed for the select few, the training entirely disregarded the individual abilities, needs, and desires of the students, except in the choice of the profession to be followed. In recent years, many changes have been taking place. There is a trend toward autonomy of the universities, with a consequent freedom from political influences, and a growing tendency to bring the uni- versity into more intimate contact with the social and economic needs and conditions of the country. Today extension courses and new faculties and schools are being opened, and abbreviated programs of study are being set up for the training of technicians of various kinds, commercial and diplomatic personnel, secondary-  EDUCATION 113 EDUCATION 113 EDUCATION school teachers, nurses, social workers, and others. Students are adding to their concern with politics a mounting attraction for athletics and participation in interscholastic sports. Women en- joy the same rights as men, but relatively fewer women than men enter upon university studies. Some institutions are giving special attention to careers for women. The largest universities in the Caribbean area are the National Autonomous University of Mexico with better than 25,000 stu- dents, and the universities of Havana and Puerto Rico, with en- rollments around 15,000 each. There is a trend also toward the establishment of university cities, thus enabling the scattered faculties to unite on the same campus and build a greater spirit of unity and sociability among the teaching staffs and students. Since occupying its new site, the National Autonomous University of Mexico is making a concentrated effort to establish more full- time professorships. II The philosophy and practice with respect to liberal education in most of these countries is not well understood in the United States, for the Latin American universities have no equivalent of the college of liberal arts as we know it. The faculties of philoso- phy and letters, of humanities, and of education perhaps, cor- respond in some ways to the colleges of arts and sciences in our universities, but with important differences. The prescribed course in the faculty of philosophy and letters leads the student through an intensive study of his major field and closely related disciplines. A program in language and literature might contain some history of art, but it would not contain courses in mathe- matics or science. Then, since the general educational background considered necessary for professional people is completed in the secondary or preparatory school, work in the faculty of philosophy and letters is not ordinarily required of the student who plans to take up the study of law, medicine, engineering, or other special- ized field. In other words, upon admission to the university, Latin school teachers, nurses, social workers, and others. Students are adding to their concern with politics a mounting attraction for athletics and participation in interscholastic sports. Women en- joy the same rights as men, but relatively fewer women than men enter upon university studies. Some institutions are giving special attention to careers for women. The largest universities in the Caribbean area are the National Autonomous University of Mexico with better than 25,000 stu- dents, and the universities of Havana and Puerto Rico, with en- rollments around 15,000 each. There is a trend also toward the establishment of university cities, thus enabling the scattered faculties to unite on the same campus and build a greater spirit of unity and sociability among the teaching staffs and students. Since occupying its new site, the National Autonomous University of Mexico is making a concentrated effort to establish more full- time professorships. II The philosophy and practice with respect to liberal education in most of these countries is not well understood in the United States, for the Latin American universities have no equivalent of the college of liberal arts as we know it. The faculties of philoso- phy and letters, of humanities, and of education perhaps, cor- respond in some ways to the colleges of arts and sciences in our universities, but with important differences. The prescribed course in the faculty of philosophy and letters leads the student through an intensive study of his major field and closely related disciplines. A program in language and literature might contain some history of art, but it would not contain courses in mathe- matics or science. Then, since the general educational background considered necessary for professional people is completed in the secondary or preparatory school, work in the faculty of philosophy and letters is not ordinarily required of the student who plans to take up the study of law, medicine, engineering, or other special- ized field. In other words, upon admission to the university, Latin school teachers, nurses, social workers, and others. Students are adding to their concern with politics a mounting attraction for athletics and participation in interscholastic sports. Women en- joy the same rights as men, but relatively fewer women than men enter upon university studies. Some institutions are giving special attention to careers for women. The largest universities in the Caribbean area are the National Autonomous University of Mexico with better than 25,000 stu- dents, and the universities of Havana and Puerto Rico, with en- rollments around 15,000 each. There is a trend also toward the establishment of university cities, thus enabling the scattered faculties to unite on the same campus and build a greater spirit of unity and sociability among the teaching staffs and students. Since occupying its new site, the National Autonomous University of Mexico is making a concentrated effort to establish more full- time professorships. II The philosophy and practice with respect to liberal education in most of these countries is not well understood in the United States, for the Latin American universities have no equivalent of the college of liberal arts as we know it. The faculties of philoso- phy and letters, of humanities, and of education perhaps, cor- respond in some ways to the colleges of arts and sciences in our universities, but with important differences. The prescribed course in the faculty of philosophy and letters leads the student through an intensive study of his major field and closely related disciplines. A program in language and literature might contain some history of art, but it would not contain courses in mathe- matics or science. Then, since the general educational background considered necessary for professional people is completed in the secondary or preparatory school, work in the faculty of philosophy and letters is not ordinarily required of the student who plans to take up the study of law, medicine, engineering, or other special- ized field. In other words, upon admission to the university, Latin  114 The Caribbean American students begin immediately to specialize and, in some fields, have no university-level liberal arts studies. This difference in theory and organization is the cause of much difficulty for United States students seeking admission to univer- sities south of the border, and likewise for Latin American stu- dents who wish to pursue professional studies in the United States. The divergence in university systems creates a problem for exchange students quite apart from the adjustments occasioned by differences in language, national culture, and individual tem- perament and habits. The University of Puerto Rico and Mexico City College obviously do not typify this basic difference in liberal education, since their plan of organization embraces the United States system of higher education. It might be interesting to digress here to say that during the school year 1953-1954 nearly 80 per cent of the Latin American students enrolled in United States institutions of higher education came from the countries of the Caribbean, and that the fields of the humanities and en- gineering attracted approximately half of the total number. III In speaking of liberal education in the Caribbean countries, we must include, therefore, the academic type of secondary school curriculum, that which is intended specifically as preparation for university study. In most countries, the secondary school is five or six years in length and generally has two cycles organized according to a 3-2, 3-3, 4-1, or 4-2 plan. The exceptions are the Dominican Republic with a four-year program based on eight years of elementary education and Haiti with a seven-year second- ary school modelled after that of France. In almost every country, the program of the first cycle is uniform for all students. The normal schools and commercial institutes also generally parallel the secondary school in its first cycle before offering their differ- entiated programs. In the second cycle, there is frequently a choice of different programs, depending upon the faculty of the university the student plans to enter, or at least upon provision for 114 The Caribbean American students begin immediately to specialize and, in some fields, have no university-level liberal arts studies. This difference in theory and organization is the cause of much difficulty for United States students seeking admission to univer- sities south of the border, and likewise for Latin American stu- dents who wish to pursue professional studies in the United States. The divergence in university systems creates a problem for exchange students quite apart from the adjustments occasioned by differences in language, national culture, and individual tem- perament and habits. The University of Puerto Rico and Mexico City College obviously do not typify this basic difference in liberal education, since their plan of organization embraces the United States system of higher education. It might be interesting to digress here to say that during the school year 1953-1954 nearly 80 per cent of the Latin American students enrolled in United States institutions of higher education came from the countries of the Caribbean, and that the fields of the humanities and en- gineering attracted approximately half of the total number. III In speaking of liberal education in the Caribbean countries, we must include, therefore, the academic type of secondary school curriculum, that which is intended specifically as preparation for university study. In most countries, the secondary school is five or six years in length and generally has two cycles organized according to a 3-2, 3-3, 4-1, or 4-2 plan. The exceptions are the Dominican Republic with a four-year program based on eight years of elementary education and Haiti with a seven-year second- ary school modelled after that of France. In almost every country, the program of the first cycle is uniform for all students. The normal schools and commercial institutes also generally parallel the secondary school in its first cycle before offering their differ- entiated programs. In the second cycle, there is frequently a choice of different programs, depending upon the faculty of the university the student plans to enter, or at least upon provision for 114 The Caribbean American students begin immediately to specialize and, in some fields, have no university-level liberal arts studies. This difference in theory and organization is the cause of much difficulty for United States students seeking admission to univer- sities south of the border, and likewise for Latin American stu- dents who wish to pursue professional studies in the United States. The divergence in university systems creates a problem for exchange students quite apart from the adjustments occasioned by differences in language, national culture, and individual tem- perament and habits. The University of Puerto Rico and Mexico City College obviously do not typify this basic difference in liberal education, since their plan of organization embraces the United States system of higher education. It might be interesting to digress here to say that during the school year 1953-1954 nearly 80 per cent of the Latin American students enrolled in United States institutions of higher education came from the countries of the Caribbean, and that the fields of the humanities and en- gineering attracted approximately half of the total number. III In speaking of liberal education in the Caribbean countries, we must include, therefore, the academic type of secondary school curriculum, that which is intended specifically as preparation for university study. In most countries, the secondary school is five or six years in length and generally has two cycles organized according to a 3-2, 3-3, 4-1, or 4-2 plan. The exceptions are the Dominican Republic with a four-year program based on eight years of elementary education and Haiti with a seven-year second- ary school modelled after that of France. In almost every country, the program of the first cycle is uniform for all students. The normal schools and commercial institutes also generally parallel the secondary school in its first cycle before offering their differ- entiated programs. In the second cycle, there is frequently a choice of different programs, depending upon the faculty of the university the student plans to enter, or at least upon provision for  EDUCATION 115 EDUCATION 115 EDUCATION 115 elective subjects within the general framework. Whereas the studies of the first cycle are general and cultural, those of the second cycle tend to be oriented toward a particular career. In Mexico the second cycle, called preparatoria, is under the admin- istration of the university. The subjects which all the countries stress in their secondary- school program are the national language, foreign language, mathematics, national history and geography, and world history and geography. Varying amounts of science and civics are offered, and nearly all include one or two hours per week, at least in the first cycle, of music, drawing, physical education, manual arts, and morals or manners. Religion is required three times a week in Colombia, once or twice a week in the first cycle in Panama, and is optional once a week in Costa Rica. In most countries, however, education is secular. From three to seven years of foreign language, normally French and English, are required in each country. The study of English has increased greatly during the past ten or twelve years. Latin is required for two years in Colombia, Guatemala, and Honduras, and for one year in Vene- zuela. Philosophy and psychology are sometimes included for an hour or two a week in the last two years of the secondary school. IV In virtually all the schools, a strong nationalistic emphasis may be observed, but a feeling of continental solidarity and an attitude of international cooperation are fostered also in many ways. Historical ties, as well as European and Oriental immigration, have helped increase appreciation of other lands and peoples. At the same time, it is evident that the stress on humanistic studies inherent in the school curriculum has engendered broad interests and an understanding of foreign countries and world affairs. As the Caribbean countries move in the direction of more practical, more technical, and more universal education, it is to be hoped that they will preserve, as the motivating force, the value placed elective subjects within the general framework. Whereas the studies of the first cycle are general and cultural, those of the second cycle tend to be oriented toward a particular career. In Mexico the second cycle, called preparatoria, is under the admin- istration of the university. The subjects which all the countries stress in their secondary- school program are the national language, foreign language, mathematics, national history and geography, and world history and geography. Varying amounts of science and civics are offered, and nearly all include one or two hours per week, at least in the first cycle, of music, drawing, physical education, manual arts, and morals or manners. Religion is required three times a week in Colombia, once or twice a week in the first cycle in Panama, and is optional once a week in Costa Rica. In most countries, however, education is secular. From three to seven years of foreign language, normally French and English, are required in each country. The study of English has increased greatly during the past ten or twelve years. Latin is required for two years in Colombia, Guatemala, and Honduras, and for one year in Vene- zuela. Philosophy and psychology are sometimes included for an hour or two a week in the last two years of the secondary school. IV In virtually all the schools, a strong nationalistic emphasis may be observed, but a feeling of continental solidarity and an attitude of international cooperation are fostered also in many ways. Historical ties, as well as European and Oriental immigration, have helped increase appreciation of other lands and peoples. At the same time, it is evident that the stress on humanistic studies inherent in the school curriculum has engendered broad interests and an understanding of foreign countries and world affairs. As the Caribbean countries move in the direction of more practical, more technical, and more universal education, it is to be hoped that they will preserve, as the motivating force, the value placed elective subjects within the general framework. Whereas the studies of the first cycle are general and cultural, those of the second cycle tend to be oriented toward a particular career. In Mexico the second cycle, called preparatoria, is under the admin- istration of the university. The subjects which all the countries stress in their secondary- school program are the national language, foreign language, mathematics, national history and geography, and world history and geography. Varying amounts of science and civics are offered, and nearly all include one or two hours per week, at least in the first cycle, of music, drawing, physical education, manual arts, and morals or manners. Religion is required three times a week in Colombia, once or twice a week in the first cycle in Panama, and is optional once a week in Costa Rica. In most countries, however, education is secular. From three to seven years of foreign language, normally French and English, are required in each country. The study of English has increased greatly during the past ten or twelve years. Latin is required for two years in Colombia, Guatemala, and Honduras, and for one year in Vene- zuela. Philosophy and psychology are sometimes included for an hour or two a week in the last two years of the secondary school. IV In virtually all the schools, a strong nationalistic emphasis may be observed, but a feeling of continental solidarity and an attitude of international cooperation are fostered also in many ways. Historical ties, as well as European and Oriental immigration, have helped increase appreciation of other lands and peoples. At the same time, it is evident that the stress on humanistic studies inherent in the school curriculum has engendered broad interests and an understanding of foreign countries and world affairs. As the Caribbean countries move in the direction of more practical, more technical, and more universal education, it is to be hoped that they will preserve, as the motivating force, the value placed  116 The Caribbean on the human personality and spirit, and so, thraughi technalogy, he ahir to free all their citizens en enjoy the richer, deeper things of life. BIBLIOGRAPHY Annat Rprt af the Commiccioer at Edacatian, t951-52. San Jao, Poceta Rica: Department at Edauao Pree,,, 1953. asic Part, asd Pigneres: Illttireary, Edacatian, Libearies, Macrams, arch, News~papers, Nesriot, Pilm,, Radio and Tetrvisian. Paris, UNESCO, 1954. Cehaleec, Pedrc A. Estado acteal de la educaciron secundaria en la America Larina, Scuisaris Itramericano de Educacids Sccnaria, Santiato, Chile, t954-t955. Wathinton, D. C.: Uanio Panameericana, 1954. Chambers, M. M. Univeriie at the Wseld Oatside U. 9. A. Washington, D. C.: Ameican CoconoEducation, 1950!. Comito de Desarrollo Ecodmica. "Educacin pitblica," Informe fleal, Sep- tienhe 1950.- Aoro 1519, pp. t76-203. Bogoa, Colombia: tmpenta del Banco de Ic Rcpubtica, t951t. Cook, Mercer, Education in Hiti, Bulletin t948, Nc. 1. Washingtan: Office of Educatian, Pedrl Security Agency, t948. Ebaugh, Cameron D. Educcioan is Et Salvadr, Bultetin t947, Na. 3. Washiagton: Office of Edacatian, ederal Securicy Agency, 1947. Education in Gnatemnala, Bulletin t947, Nc. 7. Washingtan: Office o Edncatian, Fedral Security Agency, 1947. - Education in Nicaeaaua, Butletin 1947, Nc. 6. Washington: Office of Educatian, Federal Secority Aaency, 1947. Purhay, Jshn H. Educatian is Colaomhia, Bnlletin t946, Nc. 6. Wash- ingcto: Office at Educatian, Fedeal Security Agency, t946. --.Eduation in Corta Rica, Bafletin 1946, Ns. 4. Washingtro: Office at Educatian, Fadrel Securdte Agency, t946. Caere, Deria. Education in Panamna, Bulletia t948, Na. t2. Washington: Office ri Education, Pedral Security Agency, 1948. -_Education in enaezncla, Bnlictin t948, Nc. 14. Wadhingtsn: Office rf Education, ederat Secarity Agency, t948. Itrenational Diretry af Adulb Ednuctos. Paeis, UNESCO, t950. tlnellee, Gege P. The Educatian of the Mexican Natian. Newe Yarh: Columbia University Poets, t951. Memoreia do El Calegia Naciaral, Num. Unico, Aia de t946, Tomoa t. Miico, D.P.: Ediaida Ac Et Calegia Nacianal, t946. Passer, Gtadys L., rod Cametan D. Ebaugh. Educatian in the Dcminican Republic, Bulletin 1947, Na. 10. Washingtan: Office at Educatio, Pederat Securiry Agency, 1947. Repor o Cuba, Finding, and Recommendat at an Ecoaomic and Technical Mcission to Cubca Orgaized by the Internatianal Bank ice Rcanstuclaon and Develoement in Collaboratian weith the Gaveromeot of Coha in t9sa. Washiogaon, D. C.: Internatianal Bn ir Re- construaction and Desetopmenc, t951. Chapter t8. 116 The Caribbean on the human personality and spirit, and sa, cheough techology, hr able to free all their citizens to enjay the richer, deeper things of life. BIBLIOGRAPHYO Annual Repart of the Commissionre af Edocation, 1951-52. San Joan, Puerto Rica, Dcpartmecnt of Edocation Pest, 1999. Basic Pact, and Eigues: tllitracy, Education, Libeaeies, Mtcsrums, Book, Netwspapees, Newctpeint, Pile,, Radia and Televician. Earl,, UNESCO, Cehollero, Pedro A. Esrado actal de to eduecairon ,erandaeia en la America Latina, Semioario tnteramericano de Edocacidon Secundoria, Scnriago, Chile, t954-t955. Washington, D. C.: Union Paoamecicana, 1994. Chamber,, M. M. Unicersities af the World Ottide U. S. A. Washington, D. C.: American Council on Eduatian, 1950. Comici de Dctarrallo Ecodmico. "Edocacidon pdblica," Infoeme final, Sep- tiembe 1950 - Agocto ass1, pp. 176-203. ogota, Calambia: tupenta del Baoco Ac la tRepublica, 1991. Coch, Mercer. Educatian is Haiti, Bulletin 1948, No. 1. Washiagtan: Office of Educatian, Pederal Security Agency, 1948. Ebaugh, Cameron D. Eduatian in El Sateadr, Bulletin t947, Na. 3. Washirgton: Office of Edacatian, Pederal Security Agency, t947. .Pducatiaon in Guatenala, Bnlletin 1947, No. 7. Washington: Office of Educatian, Federal Secueity Agency, 1947. -- .Eduatian in Nicragua, Bulletin 1947, No. 6. Washingtan: Office of Educatian, Fedetal Security Agency, 1947. Foehay, John H. Edocation in Colombhia, Bulletin 1946, Na. 6. Wash- ington: Office of Edocution, ederal Secarity Ageacy, 1946. -- .Education in Cacta Rica, Bulletin 1946, No. 4. Wathington: Office of Educatian, Federal Security Agency, 1946. Carte, Delic. Education in Panamac, Balletin 1948, Nc. 12. Washington: Office of Education, Pederal Secueity Agency, 1948. --.Education is enezonela, Bulletin 1948, No. 14. Washington: Office of Edocation, Pederal Security Agency, 1948. Itrnatioal Diectary of Adult Educatian. Paris, UNESCO, 1990. Knellar, Gorge P. The Ednuain of the Mexican Namior. Near Yorh, Crlumbia Univerity Preru, 1991. Memoria de Et Coteaio Nacianat, Num. Units, Aflo de 1946, Tour I. Misico, O.. Edicido Ac El Calegio Nacional, 1946. Potter, Gladyt L., and Cameron 0. Ebaugh. Edcatian in the omeinican Republic, Butlletin 1947, Na. 10. W5ashiagto: Office of Education, Fedral Secorita Agency, 1947. Report an Cuha, Pindingt and Recommendations ofian Economic and Technical SMiain to Cuba Organired by the Internatuonal Baok tar Recoatruoctian and Development in Collabaratioa rich the Coernment of Cuha in 1950. Washington, D. C.: laternatianal Bank ir Re- costruction and Deteloment, 1991. Chapter 18. 116 The Caribbean on the human personality and spirit, and so, thraugh technclogy, he chie to free all their citizens to enjoy the eicher, deeper things of life. BIBLIOGRAPHY Annual Report of the Commbisonre of Edncatioa, 1951-52. San Joan, Puertc Rica: Dcpartmernt of Educaion Pet,, 1994. Batic Fcctt and Pigues: Illiteracy, Educatian, Lihraeiet, Museoumt, Ros, Newstpapcers, Newsppeint, Pile,, Radio and Tetevitian. Parit, UNESCO, Cehollero, Pedro A. Ettado caual Ar la edoaidn tsecundaria en Ia Auerica Latina, Semioario Itramricaro Ar Edocacidon Secunduria, Santiago, Chile, 1954-1955. Wathingtor, D. C.: Unidon Panamericana, 1954. Chamber,, M. M. Univeetitiet of the World Ottide U. S. A. Washington, D. C.: Amaerican Counci on Education, 1950. Comit6 Ar Detarrallo Ecoodmico. "Educacicin rdblica," Informe float, Sep- tiembre 1950 - Agocto a951, pp. 176-203. Bogoat, Colombia, Impenota del Baco Ac Ia Repuhtica, 1991. Cooh, Meecer. Education in Haiti, Bulletin 1948, No. 1. Washington: Office of Eduration, Fedral Security Agency, 1948. Ebaugh, Cameron D. Education is El Salvador, Bulltin 1947, Na. 3. Washington: Officr of Education, Pedetal Secucrity Agency, 1947. -- .Eduecao in Cuatemala, Bulletin 1947, Na. 7. Washington: Office of Edncation, Pederal Security Agency, 1947. - .Educaion in Nicaragua, Bulletin 1947, No. 6. Washingtan: Office of Educatiut, Pederal Security Agency, 1947. Porbay, John H. Educatiun in Colomhia, Bulletin 1946, No. 6. Wath- ington: Office at Education, Pederal Security Agency, 1946. Education in Cotta Rica, Bulletin 1946, No. 4. Washington: Office of Education, Pederal Secrity Ageocy, 1946. Carte, Delia. Edocatian is Pancama, Bolletin 1948, No. 12. Washington: Office of Eduaonon, Pedral Secority Agency, 1948. -- .Educatian it enaczoela, Outlento 1948, No. 14. Washington: Office at Edacaioan, Pedral Secrity Agency, 1940. Irternational Directory of Adult Eduation. Earl,, UNESCO, 1990. tRnellr, Ceorge P. The Eduatian of the Ataxican Natiaa. Nea rk:eb Cotumcbia University Press, 1991. Meotaa Ar Pt Calegio Nacioal, Numa. Unico, Arn Ar 1946, Tomoa I. Misico, O.. Ediidon Ar El Calegio Nacionat, 1946. Potter, Cladys L., and Cametan D. Ebaugh. Edcation ic the Domtinican Republic, Bolletin 1947, Na. 10. Washingtan: Office ot Education, ederal Security Agency, 1947. Report on Cuha, Pindings and Recoamndations uf an Economic and Technical Missiaon to Cob, Organized by the Intrnarrtioal Bank tar Reconstrctiancud Develapmenot io Callaboation writh the Ga~overmen of Coba in 1990. Washingiton, D. C.: Intaraatianal Oark ice Rle- conttrtion and Developett 1991. Chapter 10.  EDUCATION 117 941chez, Luis Alberto. Lt universidad ltioeian. utemtala: Ed- itorial Uttri tartia de Gutematla, 1949. Turosieki, Severn IK. Eductiont in Cuba, Bulltn 1943, No. 1. Wath- ington:~ 0ffic of Educaltiont, Federl Security Agency, 1143. Piedrast: The Untitertity If Puertto 11co, 1953. sity If Texas Prestt, 1948. Thte World If Learnting 1954. London:~ Ettttpa Publcationst Ltd., 1954. The Year Book of Educatlion 1954. London: Evanst Brtherst Ltd., 1954. Chapters XIV tttd XVII. EDUCATION 117 1tor411 Univertitaria de Gutemtlatll, 1949. Turoienit, Severin K. Edutionll int uba, EBulletin 1943, NI. 1. Wath- ington: Oicet If EductlIion, Federal Secturity Agelncy, 1943. Piedras: The Untivettity If Puerto Rico, 1953. tity If Texas Ptett, 1941. Teachers' Economic antd Cuturattl Association, Ltd., 1999. TheI World If Learin~g 1934. London: Europ1 Putblictlons Ltd., 1954. TheI Year Book of Education 1954. Lontdon: 01an1 Brother1 Ltd., 1994. Chapters XIV tand XVII. EDUCATION 117 111411l Uniersitia de utemla, 1949. Turoiensk, S11111n K. Educa~tiont in Cubay, Bul11t9n 1943, NI. 1. Wtth- ington: 0911c If Educa~tion, 0141111 Securtity Agencly, 1943. Uttiversity If Puerto Rico Bulletint, F1ft11th Anntiversay Edit9o. Rio1 Piedras: The Untieritly If Puerto Rico, 1953. sty If Texts Press, 1948. Wiliatms, Eric. Educationt int lt Brith West Indiet. Pot-of-Spin: The World If Learnling 1934. Lon1don: Eutropa PubliaIons Ltd., 1994. Tht Year Book If Education 1954. Lontdon: 0111s Brothers Ltd., 1994. 001pt91s XIV antd XVII.  10 10 Andrew C. Pearse: VOCATIONAL AND COMMUNITY EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN IN THIS PAPER we shall consider the content and context of the actions of governments in the Caribbean in the field of com- munity and vocational education. They form a sector of the complex systems of educational institutions which all the govern- ments regulate, or administer directly. Some parts of these sys- tems are of long establishment, and operate in a traditional manner to pass on to the rising generation the knowledge and skills which are regarded as appropriate to them, according to the role they are to fill in society. But a great part of community and vocational education in the area today takes the form of planned intervention in the traditional mode of transmission of culture by means of the implanting of new skills, the offering of new knowledge, the insemination of new attitudes and ideologies, and even the alteration of the structure and forms of organization of small communities by the formation of institutions like co- operative societies and community councils to support these cul- tural novelties. In the literature it is surrounded by a sense of urgency, and considered as offering an important approach to the major problems facing governments in the struggle to survive and achieve some of their ends-the problems of poverty, de- pendence, and structural disorders. It is not that the problems Andrew C. Pearse: VOCATIONAL AND COMMUNITY EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN IN THIS PAPER we shall consider the content and context of the actions of governments in the Caribbean in the field of com- munity and vocational education. They form a sector of the complex systems of educational institutions which all the govern- ments regulate, or administer directly. Some parts of these sys- tems are of long establishment, and operate in a traditional manner to pass on to the rising generation the knowledge and skills which are regarded as appropriate to them, according to the role they are to fill in society. But a great part of community and vocational education in the area today takes the form of planned intervention in the traditional mode of transmission of culture by means of the implanting of new skills, the offering of new knowledge, the insemination of new attitudes and ideologies, and even the alteration of the structure and forms of organization of small communities by the formation of institutions like co- operative societies and community councils to support these cul- tural novelties. In the literature it is surrounded by a sense of urgency, and considered as offering an important approach to the major problems facing governments in the struggle to survive and achieve some of their ends-the problems of poverty, de- pendence, and structural disorders. It is not that the problems 118 Andrew C. Pearse: VOCATIONAL AND COMMUNITY EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN IN THIS PAPER we shall consider the content and context of the actions of governments in the Caribbean in the field of com- munity and vocational education. They form a sector of the complex systems of educational institutions which all the govern- ments regulate, or administer directly. Some parts of these sys- tems are of long establishment, and operate in a traditional manner to pass on to the rising generation the knowledge and skills which are regarded as appropriate to them, according to the role they are to fill in society. But a great part of community and vocational education in the area today takes the form of planned intervention in the traditional mode of transmission of culture by means of the implanting of new skills, the offering of new knowledge, the insemination of new attitudes and ideologies, and even the alteration of the structure and forms of organization of small communities by the formation of institutions like co- operative societies and community councils to support these cul- tural novelties. In the literature it is surrounded by a sense of urgency, and considered as offering an important approach to the major problems facing governments in the struggle to survive and achieve some of their ends-the problems of poverty, de- pendence, and structural disorders. It is not that the problems 118  EDUCATION 119 are new, but the impact of industrialism and democratic ideas, while offering the means towards greater prosperity and national security, also intensify the contradictions within the societies; for instance, the goal-systems of the simpler, hitherto isolated com- munities may be undermined by the effects of industrialism, and the means for the attainment of new goals offered remain in- accessible." The problem of poverty presents itself to governments in a variety of forms. In Jamaica, the low level of peasant agricultural productivity, coupled with population increase and the scarcity and deterioration of land for cultivation, has led to the accumula- tion of an alarmingly high percentage of unemployed, many of whom have drifted into Kingston, the capital city." In Cuba, as in other sugar-cane producing areas, most rural employment is seasonal. The 1943 census in that country was taken during the "dead season," and the reported figure of only 856,000 definitely employed out of a labor force of 1,521,000 is largely a reflection of this situation.' Further instability is caused by the mobility of much of this force, moving around in search of jobs. In Haiti "the fundamental economic problem derives from the relentless pressure of a steadily growing, insufficiently educated population upon limited, vulnerable, and-so far as agricultural land is concerned-alarmingly shrinking natural resources."' On the mainland the picture is somewhat different. There are only a few regions of relatively high population density, namely, the central area of Mexico, the highlands of Guatemala and El Salvador, and the intermontane basins of Costa Rica and the Antioquia region of Colombia. The population pattern has been described as one of isolated clusters' separated from one another by large tracts of almost impassable land, mountain, forest, or desert, and of astonishing ecological and cultural diversity. Access to export markets is often difficult and many communities remain at subsistence level; trade tends to be confined within the cluster, so that effective government control and the raising of govern- EDUCATION 119 are new, but the impact of industrialism and democratic ideas, while offering the means towards greater prosperity and national security, also intensify the contradictions within the societies; for instance, the goal-systems of the simpler, hitherto isolated com- munities may be undermined by the effects of industrialism, and the means for the attainment of new goals offered remain in- accessible." The problem of poverty presents itself to governments in a variety of forms. In Jamaica, the low level of peasant agricultural productivity, coupled with population increase and the scarcity and deterioration of land for cultivation, has led to the accumula- tion of an alarmingly high percentage of unemployed, many of whom have drifted into Kingston, the capital city." In Cuba, as in other sugar-cane producing areas, most rural employment is seasonal. The 1943 census in that country was taken during the "dead season," and the reported figure of only 856,000 definitely employed out of a labor force of 1,521,000 is largely a reflection of this situation.' Further instability is caused by the mobility of much of this force, moving around in search of jobs. In Haiti "the fundamental economic problem derives from the relentless pressure of a steadily growing, insufficiently educated population upon limited, vulnerable, and-so far as agricultural land is concerned-alarmingly shrinking natural resources."' On the mainland the picture is somewhat different. There are only a few regions of relatively high population density, namely, the central area of Mexico, the highlands of Guatemala and El Salvador, and the intermontane basins of Costa Rica and the Antioquia region of Colombia. The population pattern has been described as one of isolated clusters' separated from one another by large tracts of almost impassable land, mountain, forest, or desert, and of astonishing ecological and cultural diversity. Access to export markets is often difficult and many communities remain at subsistence level; trade tends to be confined within the cluster, so that effective government control and the raising of govern- EDUCATION 119 are new, but the impact of industrialism and democratic ideas, while offering the means towards greater prosperity and national security, also intensify the contradictions within the societies; for instance, the goal-systems of the simpler, hitherto isolated com- munities may be undermined by the effects of industrialism, and the means for the attainment of new goals offered remain in- accessible." The problem of poverty presents itself to governments in a variety of forms. In Jamaica, the low level of peasant agricultural productivity, coupled with population increase and the scarcity and deterioration of land for cultivation, has led to the accumula- tion of an alarmingly high percentage of unemployed, many of whom have drifted into Kingston, the capital city." In Cuba, as in other sugar-cane producing areas, most rural employment is seasonal. The 1943 census in that country was taken during the "dead season," and the reported figure of only 856,000 definitely employed out of a labor force of 1,521,000 is largely a reflection of this situation.' Further instability is caused by the mobility of much of this force, moving around in search of jobs. In Haiti "the fundamental economic problem derives from the relentless pressure of a steadily growing, insufficiently educated population upon limited, vulnerable, and-so far as agricultural land is concerned-alarmingly shrinking natural resources." On the mainland the picture is somewhat different. There are only a few regions of relatively high population density, namely, the central area of Mexico, the highlands of Guatemala and El Salvador, and the intermontane basins of Costa Rica and the Antioquia region of Colombia. The population pattern has been described as one of isolated clusters' separated from one another by large tracts of almost impassable land, mountain, forest, or desert, and of astonishing ecological and cultural diversity. Access to export markets is often difficult and many communities remain at subsistence level; trade tends to be confined within the cluster, so that effective government control and the raising of govern-  120 The Caribbean ment revenues is problematic. The contrast is conspicuous be- tween the towns and the rural areas. These commercial and administrative centers of the clusters, which are run according to Spanish traditions and supported economically by the business dealings of the great landowners, have religious and academic institutions of substance, and are in touch, if somewhat reluctant- ly, with the main stream of Western culture. But poverty and its concomitants mark the rural areas, whether the basis of liveli- hood be the encomienda, the plantation, or mere subsistence. Only where small-scale farming is coupled with export markets do we find a better standard of living. I. Rural Vocational Education The steady expansion of the provision of elementary schools is at present the largest single factor in rural change through education. Policies vary as to the extent of its vocational con- tent. In the early stages its main functions were ideological, that is, to teach catechism, Bible reading, and polite forms of ex- pression and demeanor. Later the "three R's" came to predom- inate, with a content based on the respective European metropoli- tan culture." Jamaican children of the tropics have been fed on a literary fare of "bluebells and snow." Little Haitians have had to learn about "our fathers the Gauls."" It was only in the second quarter of the twentieth century that, with the establishment of the Second Unit Rural Schools, the Puerto Ricans began to modi- fy school curricula to provide more practical training for the young, enabling them the better to meet conditions of Puerto Rican rural life."-" In Trinidad, the populace still requires elementary schools to be academic and examination-directed, thus offering a chance of a scholarship, a pupil teachership, and upward mobility." Nevertheless, the tendency throughout the area is toward a more practical form of elementary training, including home economics, crafts, and gardening. These subjects are regarded not merely as utilitarian, but also as means of fundamental training in obser- 120 The Caribbean 120 The Caribbean ment revenues is problematic. The contrast is conspicuous be- tween the towns and the rural areas. These commercial and administrative centers of the clusters, which are run according to Spanish traditions and supported economically by the business dealings of the great landowners, have religious and academic institutions of substance, and are in touch, if somewhat reluctant- ly, with the main stream of Western culture. But poverty and its concomitants mark the rural areas, whether the basis of liveli- hood be the encomienda, the plantation, or mere subsistence. Only where small-scale farming is coupled with export markets do we find a better standard of living. . Rural Vocational Education The steady expansion of the provision of elementary schools is at present the largest single factor in rural change through education. Policies vary as to the extent of its vocational con- tent. In the early stages its main functions were ideological, that is, to teach catechism, Bible reading, and polite forms of ex- pression and demeanor. Later the "three R's" came to predom- inate, with a content based on the respective European metropoli- tan culture." Jamaican children of the tropics have been fed on a literary fare of "bluebells and snow." Little Haitians have had to learn about "our fathers the Gauls."" It was only in the second quarter of the twentieth century that, with the establishment of the Second Unit Rural Schools, the Puerto Ricans began to modi- fy school curricula to provide more practical training for the young, enabling them the better to meet conditions of Puerto Rican rural life." "' In Trinidad, the populace still requires elementary schools to be academic and examination-directed, thus offering a chance of a scholarship, a pupil teachership, and upward mobility." Nevertheless, the tendency throughout the area is toward a more practical form of elementary training, including home economics, crafts, and gardening. These subjects are regarded not merely as utilitarian, but also as means of fundamental training in obser- ment revenues is problematic. The contrast is conspicuous be- tween the towns and the rural areas. These commercial and administrative centers of the clusters, which are run according to Spanish traditions and supported economically by the business dealings of the great landowners, have religious and academic institutions of substance, and are in touch, if somewhat reluctant- ly, with the main stream of Western culture. But poverty and its concomitants mark the rural areas, whether the basis of liveli- hood be the encomienda, the plantation, or mere subsistence. Only where small-scale farming is coupled with export markets do we find a better standard of living. I. Rural Vocational Education The steady expansion of the provision of elementary schools is at present the largest single factor in rural change through education. Policies vary as to the extent of its vocational con- tent. In the early stages its main functions were ideological, that is, to teach catechism, Bible reading, and polite forms of ex- pression and demeanor. Later the "three R's" came to predom- inate, with a content based on the respective European metropoli- tan culture." Jamaican children of the tropics have been fed on a literary fare of "bluebells and snow." Little Haitians have had to learn about "our fathers the Gauls."" It was only in the second quarter of the twentieth century that, with the establishment of the Second Unit Rural Schools, the Puerto Ricans began to modi- fy school curricula to provide more practical training for the young, enabling them the better to meet conditions of Puerto Rican rural life.""' In Trinidad, the populace still requires elementary schools to be academic and examination-directed, thus offering a chance of a scholarship, a pupil teachership, and upward mobility. Nevertheless, the tendency throughout the area is toward a more practical form of elementary training, including home economics, crafts, and gardening. These subjects are regarded not merely as utilitarian, but also as means of fundamental training in obser-  EDUCATION 121 EDUCATION 121 vation, forethought, and manual dexterity, as well as other skills. In rural Haiti, only one-sixth of the population of school age is in school, and rural services are almost entirely lacking.' Prob- ably the most hopeful development is embodied in the program of the Service Coop6eratif Haitien-Americain d'Education Rurale for the inauguration this year of a rural teachers' training college not far from the capital and the subsequent establishment of a model rural school in each of the five departments. These schools will be squarely charged not only with providing elementary education based on the realities of country life, but also with extensive programs of vocational education for school and post- school students in agricultural pursuits, health practice, home economics, cottage industries, building trades, and economic crafts; and they will have the functions of community centers through which new ideas and techniques can be propagated in the surrounding areas." The strength of the program lies in the joint planning and direction of the training college and of the model schools. The durability of the program and its effective extension will depend on the ability of the Haitian government to find the necessary financial resources and on the value placed on the program in raising the standards of rural life, when the government takes it over. A similar conception lies behind the Inter-American Rural Normal School at Rubio in Venezuela for members of training college staffs. Students come to this school with practical ex- perience in teaching, in teams of five, each of whose members takes one of the following courses: Educational Administration, Pedagogics, Agricultural Education, Home Economics, and Health. Thus, at the end of this course, they can return to the many Latin American countries from which they come, and, remaining together, work as a nucleus team in the running of training colleges for rural teachers. Beyond the rural school, most boys and girls have to rely upon the traditional means of transmission of culture for the skills they must use in wresting a living from the soil, or in managing vation, forethought, and manual dexterity, as well as other skills. In rural Haiti, only one-sixth of the population of school age is in school, and rural services are almost entirely lacking.' Prob- ably the most hopeful development is embodied in the program of the Service Coop6ratif Haitien-Americain d'Education Rurale for the inauguration this year of a rural teachers' training college not far from the capital and the subsequent establishment of a model rural school in each of the five departments. These schools will be squarely charged not only with providing elementary education based on the realities of country life, but also with extensive programs of vocational education for school and post- school students in agricultural pursuits, health practice, home economics, cottage industries, building trades, and economic crafts; and they will have the functions of community centers through which new ideas and techniques can be propagated in the surrounding areas." The strength of the program lies in the joint planning and direction of the training college and of the model schools. The durability of the program and its effective extension will depend on the ability of the Haitian government to find the necessary financial resources and on the value placed on the program in raising the standards of rural life, when the government takes it over. A similar conception lies behind the Inter-American Rural Normal School at Rubio in Venezuela for members of training college staffs. Students come to this school with practical ex- perience in teaching, in teams of five, each of whose members takes one of the following courses: Educational Administration, Pedagogics, Agricultural Education, Home Economics, and Health. Thus, at the end of this course, they can return to the many Latin American countries from which they come, and, remaining together, work as a nucleus team in the running of training colleges for rural teachers. Beyond the rural school, most boys and girls have to rely upon the traditional means of transmission of culture for the skills they must use in wresting a living from the soil, or in managing EDUCATION 1t vation, forethought, and manual dexterity, as well as other skills. In rural Haiti, only one-sixth of the population of school age is in school, and rural services are almost entirely lacking.' Prob- ably the most hopeful development is embodied in the program of the Service Cooperatif Haitien-Americain d'Education Rurale for the inauguration this year of a rural teachers' training college not far from the capital and the subsequent establishment of a model rural school in each of the five departments. These schools will be squarely charged not only with providing elementary education based on the realities of country life, but also with extensive programs of vocational education for school and post- school students in agricultural pursuits, health practice, home economics, cottage industries, building trades, and economic crafts; and they will have the functions of community centers through which new ideas and techniques can be propagated in the surrounding areas." The strength of the program lies in the joint planning and direction of the training college and of the model schools. The durability of the program and its effective extension will depend on the ability of the Haitian government to find the necessary financial resources and on the value placed on the program in raising the standards of rural life, when the government takes it over. A similar conception lies behind the Inter-American Rural Normal School at Rubio in Venezuela for members of training college staffs. Students come to this school with practical ex- perience in teaching, in teams of five, each of whose members takes one of the following courses: Educational Administration, Pedagogics, Agricultural Education, Home Economics, and Health. Thus, at the end of this course, they can return to the many Latin American countries from which they come, and, remaining together, work as a nucleus team in the running of training colleges for rural teachers. Beyond the rural school, most boys and girls have to rely upon the traditional means of transmission of culture for the skills they must use in wresting a living from the soil, or in managing  122 The Caribbean the health, food, and clothing of a family. However, Colombia" and Puerto Rico"o have recently made considerable progress with vocational agricultural schools, and the Eastern Caribbean Farm Institute was recently established in Trinidad." Home Economics centers are growing in number, for example, in Jamaica" and Mexico," but in general these, along with cottage industries and handcrafts, fall to the Extension and Community Education pro- grams. Needless to say, secondary schools have virtually no con- nection with rural life. IL Urban Vocational Education In the larger urban centers, vocational education is more firmly established. It has been held back by the low status of all types of manual work, according to the values both of the Hispanic and of the non-Hispanic colonial traditions,""' although second- ary schools which have grown up under North American influence (for example, Panama)" have accepted the necessity of a more practical vocational basis. And the colonial territories also appear to be following this road. A draft resolution of the recent Con- ference (October, 1954) of the Caribbean Commission on "Education and Small Scale Farming in the Caribbean" recom- mends "the introduction into the curriculum of all schools, pri- mary and secondary, of practical subjects, such as manual training in wood, metal, and any other appropriate materials, gardening, and home economics." But not all vocational education is manual; in the urban centers commerce, banking and insurance, public administration, and utilities, as well as small-scale industries and crafts and trades, have all made clear demands for objectively determined standards of skill. Because of the articulateness of these demands, proximity to the municipal administration, the obvious interest of the city itself, and the immediate payoff to the students in terms of jobs, a variety of private and public institutions have been established, working through special full-time courses, evening classes, and theoretical training courses related to apprenticeship systems. For 122 The Caribbean 122 The Caribbean the health, food, and clothing of a family. However, Colombia" and Puerto Rico"0 have recently made considerable progress with vocational agricultural schools, and the Eastern Caribbean Farm Institute was recently established in Trinidad." Home Economics centers are growing in number, for example, in Jamaica" and Mexico," but in general these, along with cottage industries and handcrafts, fall to the Extension and Community Education pro- grams. Needless to say, secondary schools have virtually no con- nection with rural life. II. Urban Vocational Education In the larger urban centers, vocational education is more firmly established. It has been held back by the low status of all types of manual work, according to the values both of the Hispanic and of the non-Hispanic colonial traditions,"" although second- ary schools which have grown up under North American influence (for example, Panama)" have accepted the necessity of a more practical vocational basis. And the colonial territories also appear to be following this road. A draft resolution of the recent Con- ference (October, 1954) of the Caribbean Commission on "Education and Small Scale Farming in the Caribbean" recom- mends "the introduction into the curriculum of all schools, pri- mary and secondary, of practical subjects, such as manual training in wood, metal, and any other appropriate materials, gardening, and home economics." But not all vocational education is manual; in the urban centers commerce, banking and insurance, public administration, and utilities, as well as small-scale industries and crafts and trades, have all made clear demands for objectively determined standards of skill. Because of the articulateness of these demands, proximity to the municipal administration, the obvious interest of the city itself, and the immediate payoff to the students in terms of jobs, a variety of private and public institutions have been established, working through special full-time courses, evening classes, and theoretical training courses related to apprenticeship systems. For the health, food, and clothing of a family. However, Colombia" and Puerto Rico" have recently made considerable progress with vocational agricultural schools, and the Eastern Caribbean Farm Institute was recently established in Trinidad." Home Economics centers are growing in number, for example, in Jamaica" and Mexico," but in general these, along with cottage industries and handcrafts, fall to the Extension and Community Education pro- grams. Needless to say, secondary schools have virtually no con- nection with rural life. II. Urban Vocational Education In the larger urban centers, vocational education is more firmly established. It has been held back by the low status of all types of manual work, according to the values both of the Hispanic and of the non-Hispanic colonial traditions,"1" although second- ary schools which have grown up under North American influence (for example, Panama)" have accepted the necessity of a more practical vocational basis. And the colonial territories also appear to be following this road. A draft resolution of the recent Con- ference (October, 1954) of the Caribbean Commission on "Education and Small Scale Farming in the Caribbean" recom- mends "the introduction into the curriculum of all schools, pri- mary and secondary, of practical subjects, such as manual training in wood, metal, and any other appropriate materials, gardening, and home economics." But not all vocational education is manual; in the urban centers commerce, banking and insurance, public administration, and utilities, as well as small-scale industries and crafts and trades, have all made clear demands for objectively determined standards of skill. Because of the articulateness of these demands, proximity to the municipal administration, the obvious interest of the city itself, and the immediate payoff to the students in terms of jobs, a variety of private and public institutions have been established, working through special full-time courses, evening classes, and theoretical training courses related to apprenticeship systems. For  EDUCATION 123 EDUCATION 123 EDUCATION example, Colombia's various population clusters have important urban centers in which, since 1945, trade schools, or schools for small-scale industry, offering two-year courses following com- pletion of a four-year elementary-school course, have been estab- lished. From this course, or on completion of the second year of secondary school, boys can take a further course at schools for industrial experts (note the discreet verbal upgrading of the status of artisan and technician). The ladder is completed by graduate course of three-years duration in a school for industrial technicians." Ill. The "Domestication" of Foreign Industrial Complexes It is characteristic of the area that major changes have taken place as a result of large-scale foreign investment in both agri- culture and industry. One of the results of this has been political and military intervention in certain of the states, and the de- pendence of governments from time to time on foreign powers.' In the case of the colonial territories, it has meant that political control from the metropolitan countries has existed side by side, and in interaction with, a sectional economic control exercised by some of the great business firms of the metropolitan countries. Furthermore, until recently, higher technical and administrative posts have all been filled exclusively by foreigners, and these great industrial plants and factories have remained social and industrial enclaves, providing jobs and government revenue, but failing to raise the technological level of the country, simply be- cause the higher ranking jobs remained closed to the native-born population. This situation has now changed towards the greater integra- tion (or domestication) of these concerns in their social and economic environment. The government of Venezuela took active steps to ensure the employment of Venezuelans in the oil com- panies up to the highest levels, and in Trinidad senior staff jobs are now open to the local men. The companies themselves are example, Colombia's various population clusters have important urban centers in which, since 1945, trade schools, or schools for small-scale industry, offering two-year courses following com- pletion of a four-year elementary-school course, have been estab- lished. From this course, or on completion of the second year of secondary school, boys can take a further course at schools for industrial experts (note the discreet verbal upgrading of the status of artisan and technician). The ladder is completed by graduate course of three-years duration in a school for industrial technicians." III. The "Domestication" of Foreign Industrial Complexes It is characteristic of the area that major changes have taken place as a result of large-scale foreign investment in both agri- culture and industry. One of the results of this has been political and military intervention in certain of the states, and the de- pendence of governments from time to time on foreign powers.' In the case of the colonial territories, it has meant that political control from the metropolitan countries has existed side by side, and in interaction with, a sectional economic control exercised by some of the great business firms of the metropolitan countries. Furthermore, until recently, higher technical and administrative posts have all been filled exclusively by foreigners, and these great industrial plants and factories have remained social and industrial enclaves, providing jobs and government revenue, but failing to raise the technological level of the country, simply be- cause the higher ranking jobs remained closed to the native-born population. This situation has now changed towards the greater integra- tion (or domestication) of these concerns in their social and economic environment. The government of Venezuela took active steps to ensure the employment of Venezuelans in the oil com- panies up to the highest levels, and in Trinidad senior staff jobs are now open to the local men. The companies themselves are example, Colombia's various population clusters have important urban centers in which, since 1945, trade schools, or schools for small-scale industry, offering two-year courses following com- pletion of a four-year elementary-school course, have been estab- lished. From this course, or on completion of the second year of secondary school, boys can take a further course at schools for industrial experts (note the discreet verbal upgrading of the status of artisan and technician). The ladder is completed by graduate course of three-years duration in a school for industrial technicians." III. The "Domestication" of Foreign Industrial Complexes It is characteristic of the area that major changes have taken place as a result of large-scale foreign investment in both agri- culture and industry. One of the results of this has been political and military intervention in certain of the states, and the de- pendence of governments from time to time on foreign powers.' In the case of the colonial territories, it has meant that political control from the metropolitan countries has existed side by side, and in interaction with, a sectional economic control exercised by some of the great business firms of the metropolitan countries. Furthermore, until recently, higher technical and administrative posts have all been filled exclusively by foreigners, and these great industrial plants and factories have remained social and industrial enclaves, providing jobs and government revenue, but failing to raise the technological level of the country, simply be- cause the higher ranking jobs remained closed to the native-born population. This situation has now changed towards the greater integra- tion (or domestication) of these concerns in their social and economic environment. The government of Venezuela took active steps to ensure the employment of Venezuelans in the oil com- panies up to the highest levels, and in Trinidad senior staff jobs are now open to the local men. The companies themselves are  124 The Caribbean 124 The Caribbean 124 The Caribbean running trade schools for apprentices and more advanced courses for the higher supervisory and technical grades, and are even granting university scholarships. This has proved to be a stimulus to governments to provide parallel facilities of a less-specialized kind-for example, the new Technical School in San Fernando, Trinidad, and the Government Technical School in Aruba, both in the center of oil refining areas. Domestication, therefore, is a policy often agreeable to govern- ments and foreign enterprises, lying between the Scylla of crude foreign intervention and the Charybdis of nationalization. Though no certain insurance against either, it demands a wide extension of vocational and general education, and leads to the raising of the technological level of the society, as well as to increased productivity. It is therefore apparent that, while urban and industrial voca- tional education is likely to follow the objective requirements of developing industries and commerce, at the present moment the most important contribution to the training of the rural young for livelihood is the rural elementary school, to which there is an increasing tendency to attach educational services for the postelementary age group, and which is in itself coming to be regarded as a preparation for participation in extension and com- munity education programs. It is, of course wrong to assume that the skills required in earning a living of necessity demand a complex system of training. It has been pointed out" that, for the industrial unskilled worker, a practical general education is de- sirable, and that health education, trade unionism, industrial relationships, and training for the use of leisure time-along with liberal subjects-are more important than training in specialized crafts. This would seem also to be true of rural areas where day labor predominates over small-scale agriculture as a means of livelihood. But the living conditions of rural laborers are so low that additional training is necessary in subsidiary crafts, enabling them to "make their own pay-day" during the off-season, or even in leisure time." running trade schools for apprentices and more advanced courses for the higher supervisory and technical grades, and are even granting university scholarships. This has proved to be a stimulus to governments to provide parallel facilities of a less-specialized kind-for example, the new Technical School in San Fernando, Trinidad, and the Government Technical School in Aruba, both in the center of oil refining areas. Domestication, therefore, is a policy often agreeable to govern- ments and foreign enterprises, lying between the Scylla of crude foreign intervention and the Charybdis of nationalization. Though no certain insurance against either, it demands a wide extension of vocational and general education, and leads to the raising of the technological level of the society, as well as to increased productivity. It is therefore apparent that, while urban and industrial voca- tional education is likely to follow the objective requirements of developing industries and commerce, at the present moment the most important contribution to the training of the rural young for livelihood is the rural elementary school, to which there is an increasing tendency to attach educational services for the postelementary age group, and which is in itself coming to be regarded as a preparation for participation in extension and com- munity education programs. It is, of course wrong to assume that the skills required in earning a living of necessity demand a complex system of training. It has been pointed out" that, for the industrial unskilled worker, a practical general education is de- sirable, and that health education, trade unionism, industrial relationships, and training for the use of leisure time-along with liberal subjects-are more important than training in specialized crafts. This would seem also to be true of rural areas where day labor predominates over small-scale agriculture as a means of livelihood. But the living conditions of rural laborers are so low that additional training is necessary in subsidiary crafts, enabling them to "make their own pay-day" during the off-season, or even in leisure time." running trade schools for apprentices and more advanced courses for the higher supervisory and technical grades, and are even granting university scholarships. This has proved to be a stimulus to governments to provide parallel facilities of a less-specialized kind-for example, the new Technical School in San Fernando, Trinidad, and the Government Technical School in Aruba, both in the center of oil refining areas. Domestication, therefore, is a policy often agreeable to govern- ments and foreign enterprises, lying between the Scylla of crude foreign intervention and the Charybdis of nationalization. Though no certain insurance against either, it demands a wide extension of vocational and general education, and leads to the raising of the technological level of the society, as well as to increased productivity. It is therefore apparent that, while urban and industrial voca- tional education is likely to follow the objective requirements of developing industries and commerce, at the present moment the most important contribution to the training of the rural young for livelihood is the rural elementary school, to which there is an increasing tendency to attach educational services for the postelementary age group, and which is in itself coming to be regarded as a preparation for participation in extension and com- munity education programs. It is, of course wrong to assume that the skills required in earning a living of necessity demand a complex system of training. It has been pointed out" that, for the industrial unskilled worker, a practical general education is de- sirable, and that health education, trade unionism, industrial relationships, and training for the use of leisure time-along with liberal subjects-are more important than training in specialized crafts. This would seem also to be true of rural areas where day labor predominates over small-scale agriculture as a means of livelihood. But the living conditions of rural laborers are so low that additional training is necessary in subsidiary crafts, enabling them to "make their own pay-day" during the off-season, or even in leisure time."  EDUCATION 125 EDUCATION 125 EDUCATION 125 IV. Community Education, Poverty, and Structural Disorders Community education is of a different order, and is addressed particularly to the problems of poverty and structural disorders. Most of the national territories of Middle and South America suffer from an exceptional degree of diversity of culture and the resultant imbalance has been increased by the rapid industrial development of certain centers. Indeed, some governments have but recently emerged from the stage of the establishment of con- trol by armed force within their territories. To quote an extreme case, since the early part of this century, Mexican federal policy has swung from the deportation and dispersal of the Yaquis, an Indian "cultural enclave" in Sonora region, to recolonization of the Yaquis by their re-establishment on the land, and by organized educational and economic programs-including the building of village schools and an agricultural boarding school-to incorporate the Yaquis into the Mexican nation without the repression of their culture. Separate cultural enclaves are not, however, the main problem. A more widespread and persistent disorder is that presented by societies in which two or more distinct cultural groups have established a system of social relationships, which ascribes to the respective groups superior and subordinate roles. Sometimes the system has been sustained directly by laws, that is, slavery, in- dentured labor, and forced labor, and sometimes by the manipula- tion of indebtedness. Or else the system has been maintained by social sanctions rigidly operated along the lines of a caste system. It is interesting to note, for instance, that in the small Indo- Ladino town studied by Dr. John Gillin in the 1930's, although the school was open to Indians, its curriculum provided training in those skills necessary to the filling of roles ascribed exclusively to Ladinos, whereas the crafts, skills, attitudes, and language of the Indian were transmitted outside the school system." The hierarchical "feudal" type of arrangement common in different IV. Community Education, Poverty, and Structural Disorders Community education is of a different order, and is addressed particularly to the problems of poverty and structural disorders. Most of the national territories of Middle and South America suffer from an exceptional degree of diversity of culture and the resultant imbalance has been increased by the rapid industrial development of certain centers. Indeed, some governments have but recently emerged from the stage of the establishment of con- trol by armed force within their territories. To quote an extreme case, since the early part of this century, Mexican federal policy has swung from the deportation and dispersal of the Yaquis, an Indian "cultural enclave" in Sonora region, to recolonization of the Yaquis by their re-establishment on the land, and by organized educational and economic programs-including the building of village schools and an agricultural boarding school-to incorporate the Yaquis into the Mexican nation without the repression of their culture. Separate cultural enclaves are not, however, the main problem. A more widespread and persistent disorder is that presented by societies in which two or more distinct cultural groups have established a system of social relationships, which ascribes to the respective groups superior and subordinate roles. Sometimes the system has been sustained directly by laws, that is, slavery, in- dentured labor, and forced labor, and sometimes by the manipula- tion of indebtedness. Or else the system has been maintained by social sanctions rigidly operated along the lines of a caste system. It is interesting to note, for instance, that in the small Indo- Ladino town studied by Dr. John Gillin in the 1930's, although the school was open to Indians, its curriculum provided training in those skills necessary to the filling of roles ascribed exclusively to Ladinos, whereas the crafts, skills, attitudes, and language of the Indian were transmitted outside the school system." The hierarchical "feudal" type of arrangement common in different IV. Community Education, Poverty, and Structural Disorders Community education is of a different order, and is addressed particularly to the problems of poverty and structural disorders. Most of the national territories of Middle and South America suffer from an exceptional degree of diversity of culture and the resultant imbalance has been increased by the rapid industrial development of certain centers. Indeed, some governments have but recently emerged from the stage of the establishment of con- trol by armed force within their territories. To quote an extreme case, since the early part of this century, Mexican federal policy has swung from the deportation and dispersal of the Yaquis, an Indian "cultural enclave" in Sonora region, to recolonization of the Yaquis by their re-establishment on the land, and by organized educational and economic programs-including the building of village schools and an agricultural boarding school-to incorporate the Yaquis into the Mexican nation without the repression of their culture. Separate cultural enclaves are not, however, the main problem. A more widespread and persistent disorder is that presented by societies in which two or more distinct cultural groups have established a system of social relationships, which ascribes to the respective groups superior and subordinate roles. Sometimes the system has been sustained directly by laws, that is, slavery, in- dentured labor, and forced labor, and sometimes by the manipula- tion of indebtedness. Or else the system has been maintained by social sanctions rigidly operated along the lines of a caste system. It is interesting to note, for instance, that in the small Indo- Ladino town studied by Dr. John Gillin in the 1930's, although the school was open to Indians, its curriculum provided training in those skills necessary to the filling of roles ascribed exclusively to Ladinos, whereas the crafts, skills, attitudes, and language of the Indian were transmitted outside the school system." The hierarchical "feudal" type of arrangement common in different  126 The Caribbean forms has, however, been breaking down through the spread of democratic ideas, the infusion of industrial organization, and the internal conflicts engendered within the system. After the 1944 Revolution in Guatemala had released them from obligatory agri- cultural labor, the Indians of San Miguel Acatan 'expanded energetically into trade, commercial needlework, and small busi- ness, and also took over political control of the town. After een- turies of passive resistance to Ladino ways, they are now usaig education and the Spanish language and moving eagerly, towards integration in the economic, political, and cultural life of the nation." In the colonial Caribbean the problem of the formation of a coherent national society is set in a different mode. Slavery and indentured labor within the colonial structure nurtured a status system with wide gaps between classes which were also ethnically different." '- " At the present time, all the metropolitan govern- ments are teaching democratic ideologies and establishing repre- sentative democratic institutions, including some form of fully representative government. But the traditional structure does not accommodate itself easily to democratic ideas and institutions. Crown Colony Government, the plantation, and to some extent the churches-all in their different ways-have contributed to an authoritarian and hierarchical ordering of relations, whilst the folk leader has been charismatic, possessing "powers" to be used for healing, divining, and managing the ubiquitous traffic of spiritual forces. With a few exceptions, rural neighborhood groups have no political status with roles of responsibility recognized in the larger society, nor is there any indigenous or native culture with any degree of stability. The highest offices in church, state, or business have been held by metropolitans. Education is regarded by the folk as offering a possible means of escape from a despised way of life-that of agriculture. And the insecurity of the colored middle-class-set between folk and metropolitan-oriented upper class-as well as their failure to become established in business on any great scale, deprives these 126 The Caribbean 126 The Caribbean forms has, however, been breaking down through the spread of democratic ideas, the infusion of industrial organization, and the internal conflicts engendered within the system. After the 1944 Revolution in Guatemala had released them from obligatory agri- cultural labor, the Indians of San Miguel Acadn 'expanded energetically into trade, commercial needlework, and small busi- ness, and also took over political control of the town. After en- turies of passive resistance to Ladino ways, they are now usaing education and the Spanish language and moving eagerly towards integration in the economic, political, and cultural life of the nation." In the colonial Caribbean the problem of the formation of a coherent national society is set in a different mode. Slavery and indentured labor within the colonial structure nurtured a status system with wide gaps between classes which were also ethnically different." 16. '9 At the present time, all the metropolitan govern- ments are teaching democratic ideologies and establishing repre- sentative democratic institutions, including some form of fully representative government. But the traditional structure does not accommodate itself easily to democratic ideas and institutions. Crown Colony Government, the plantation, and to some extent the churches-all in their different ways-have contributed to an authoritarian and hierarchical ordering of relations, whilst the folk leader has been charismatic, possessing "powers" to be used for healing, divining, and managing the ubiquitous traffic of spiritual forces. With a few exceptions, rural neighborhood groups have no political status with roles of responsibility recognized in the larger society, nor is there any indigenous or native culture with any degree of stability. The highest offices in church, state, or business have been held by metropolitans. Education is regarded by the folk as offering a possible means of escape from a despised way of life-that of agriculture. And the insecurity of the colored middle-class-set between folk and metropolitan-oriented upper class-as well as their failure to become established in business on any great scale, deprives these forms has, however, been breaking down through the spread of democratic ideas, the infusion of industrial organization, and the internal conflicts engendered within the system. After the 1944 Revolution in Guatemala had released them from obligatory agri- cultural labor, the Indians of San Miguel Acatma expanded energetically into trade, commercial needlework, and small busi- ness, and also took over political control of the town. After yon- turies of passive resistance to Ladino ways, they are now using education and the Spanish language and moving eagerly towards integration in the economic, political, and cultural life of the nation." In the colonial Caribbean the problem of the formation of a coherent national society is set in a different mode. Slavery and indentured labor within the colonial structure nurtured a status system with wide gaps between classes which were also ethnically different."' '- " At the present time, all the metropolitan govern- ments are teaching democratic ideologies and establishing repre- sentative democratic institutions, including some form of fully representative government. But the traditional structure does not accommodate itself easily to democratic ideas and institutions. Crown Colony Government, the plantation, and to some extent the churches-all in their different ways-have contributed to an authoritarian and hierarchical ordering of relations, whilst the folk leader has been charismatic, possessing "powers" to be used for healing, divining, and managing the ubiquitous traffic of spiritual forces. With a few exceptions, rural neighborhood groups have no political status with roles of responsibility recognized in the larger society, nor is there any indigenous or native culture with any degree of stability. The highest offices in church, state, or business have been held by metropolitans. Education is regarded by the folk as offering a possible means of escape from a despised way of life-that of agriculture. And the insecurity of the colored middle-class-set between folk and metropolitan-oriented upper class-as well as their failure to become established in business on any great scale, deprives these  EDUCATION 127 communities of a possible source of leadership. For the middle class is loath to espouse a national symbol which implies associa- tion with the "barefoot man," the black man, though there are signs today of a minority in this class which is developing a national conscience.1o In Trinidad, British Guiana, and Surinam, the situation is complicated by the presence of additional Oriental groups, rising now from the most lowly social position to threaten the Creole in a variety of callings. Community education takes its place beside (and in fact over- laps) community development, social welfare, and extension work in agriculture, health, and other subject areas. It seems advisable to consider it first in its "pure" form, and distinct from the other types, as it exists in Puerto Rico. The island is a compact, heavily populated country with certain definite advantages over her neighbors from the point of view of effective government. The Negro section of the population participates fully in the national life, with but minor disabilities of social status. The strongly hierarchical ordering of society of Spanish colonial days was weakened by American possession; it is now no barrier to up- ward mobility, and the jibaro, or poor mountain peasant, with his grim tenacity, is on the way to becoming a national symbol accepted by all classes. About 1940 Puerto Rico's leaping popu- lation, the poverty of the people, and the situation of political dependence on the United States resulted in the crystallization of an effective national leadership, with a policy of industrializa- tion and increased agricultural production which has been known as "Operation Bootstrap." In addition to measures taken by the government to bring about capital investment in industry and the movement towards greater political independence, lands were tak- en over from larger sugar estates and redistributed to the landless, and every attempt was made to improve agricultural production and the conditions of rural life. Social change was rapid, and education was given certain very clear tasks. Vocational education was extended largely," and a EDUCATION IL communities of a possible source of leadership. For the middle class is loath to espouse a national symbol which implies associa- tion with the "barefoot man," the black man, though there are signs today of a minority in this class which is developing a national conscience.40 In Trinidad, British Guiana, and Surinam, the situation is complicated by the presence of additional Oriental groups, rising now from the most lowly social position to threaten the Creole in a variety of callings. Community education takes its place beside (and in fact over- laps) community development, social welfare, and extension work in agriculture, health, and other subject areas. It seems advisable to consider it first in its "pure" form, and distinct from the other types, as it exists in Puerto Rico. The island is a compact, heavily populated country with certain definite advantages over her neighbors from the point of view of effective government. The Negro section of the population participates fully in the national life, with but minor disabilities of social status. The strongly hierarchical ordering of society of Spanish colonial days was weakened by American possession; it is now no barrier to up- ward mobility, and the jibaro, or poor mountain peasant, with his grim tenacity, is on the way to becoming a national symbol accepted by all classes. About 1940 Puerto Rico's leaping popu- lation, the poverty of the people, and the situation of political dependence on the United States resulted in the crystallization of an effective national leadership, with a policy of industrializa- tion and increased agricultural production which has been known as "Operation Bootstrap." In addition to measures taken by the government to bring about capital investment in industry and the movement towards greater political independence, lands svere tak- en over from larger sugar estates and redistributed to the landless, and every attempt was made to improve agricultural production and the conditions of rural life. Social change was rapid, and education was given certain very clear tasks. Vocational education was extended largely," and a EDUCATION 127 communities of a possible source of leadership. For the middle class is loath to espouse a national symbol which implies associa- tion with the "barefoot man," the black man, though there are signs today of a minority in this class which is developing a national conscience." In Trinidad, British Guiana, and Surinam, the situation is complicated by the presence of additional Oriental groups, rising now from the most lowly social position to threaten the Creole in a variety of callings. Community education takes its place beside (and in fact over- laps) community development, social welfare, and extension work in agriculture, health, and other subject areas. It seems advisable to consider it first in its "pure" form, and distinct from the other types, as it exists in Puerto Rico. The island is a compact, heavily populated country with certain definite advantages over her neighbors from the point of view of effective government. The Negro section of the population participates fully in the national life, with but minor disabilities of social status. The strongly hierarchical ordering of society of Spanish colonial days was weakened by American possession; it is now no barrier to up- ward mobility, and the jibaro, or poor mountain peasant, with his grim tenacity, is on the way to becoming a national symbol accepted by all classes. About 1940 Puerto Rico's leaping popu- lation, the poverty of the people, and the situation of political dependence on the United States resulted in the crystallization of an effective national leadership, with a policy of industrializa- tion and increased agricultural production which has been known as "Operation Bootstrap." In addition to measures taken by the government to bring about capital investment in industry and the movement towards greater political independence, lands were tak- en over from larger sugar estates and redistributed to the landless, and every attempt was made to improve agricultural production and the conditions of rural life. Social change was rapid, and education was given certain very clear tasks. Vocational education was extended largely," and a  128 The Caribbean variety of federal and insular extension services were formed, for forestry, soil conservation, nutrition, and health."" In contrast with these agencies, which plan to bring about material advance in the life of rural communities, the Division of Community Education preserves initial neutrality in regard to the ends of joint action by communities, and has no plan for organizing a network of "village councils." But, following in the tradition of the rural junta, a loose institution for ad hoc mutual aid amongst the neighborhood group, the group organizers of the division-whose areas consist of about twenty rural clusters- act as "catalytic agents," first bringing about discussion in the community to identify common problems, and then guiding its members in making plans for organizing their resources in human skill and materials to achieve their immediate ends." This type of "social engineering" is based on a belief that "the apparent lack of opportunity in many communities is not due to lack of re- sources, but to people's limited experience and to their reluctance to express their thoughts and practical ideas." But if resources are clearly inadequate, then an approach may be made to the various extension agencies, demanding special apparatus and the teaching of skills. Patriotism (sometimes colored by indigenismo) and belief in democracy are characteristic of the ethos of community education, being important motivating forces amongst its initiators and im- plicit in its content. In Mexico the "cultural missionaries" were patriots, seeking to bring about the identification of the folk groups with the national symbols, and also enriching the national culture by encouraging and developing folk arts, music, and dance. In Haiti during the 1940's, young Haitians who had been abroad for professional training, feeling their national pride un- dermined by the deplorable conditions of their country and the indifference of their own class, the soi-disant elite, worked in the Education Department under the Lescot government to introduce practical knowledge of the countryside and of the folk traditions of Haiti into school programs. After the 1946 Revolution, avant- 128 The Caribbean 128 The Caribbean variety of federal and insular extension services were formed, for forestry, soil conservation, nutrition, and health.3"" In contrast with these agencies, which plan to bring about material advance in the life of rural communities, the Division of Community Education preserves initial neutrality in regard to the ends of joint action by communities, and has no plan for organizing a network of "village councils." But, following in the tradition of the rural junta, a loose institution for ad hoc mutual aid amongst the neighborhood group, the group organizers of the division-whose areas consist of about twenty rural clusters- act as "catalytic agents," first bringing about discussion in the community to identify common problems, and then guiding its members in making plans for organizing their resources in human skill and materials to achieve their immediate ends." This type of "social engineering" is based on a belief that "the apparent lack of opportunity in many communities is not due to lack of re- sources, but to people's limited experience and to their reluctance to express their thoughts and practical ideas." But if resources are clearly inadequate, then an approach may be made to the various extension agencies, demanding special apparatus and the teaching of skills. Patriotism (sometimes colored by indigenismo) and belief in democracy are characteristic of the ethos of community education, being important motivating forces amongst its initiators and im- plicit in its content. In Mexico the "cultural missionaries" were patriots, seeking to bring about the identification of the folk groups with the national symbols, and also enriching the national culture by encouraging and developing folk arts, music, and dance. In Haiti during the 1940's, young Haitians who had been abroad for professional training, feeling their national pride un- dermined by the deplorable conditions of their country and the indifference of their own class, the soi-disant dlite, worked in the Education Department under the Lescot government to introduce practical knowledge of the countryside and of the folk traditions of Haiti into school programs. After the 1946 Revolution, avant- variety of federal and insular extension services were formed, for forestry, soil conservation, nutrition, and health."A" In contrast with these agencies, which plan to bring about material advance in the life of rural communities, the Division of Community Education preserves initial neutrality in regard to the ends of joint action by communities, and has no plan for organizing a network of "village councils." But, following in the tradition of the rural junta, a loose institution for ad hoc mutual aid amongst the neighborhood group, the group organizers of the division--whose areas consist of about twenty rural clusters- act as "catalytic agents," first bringing about discussion in the community to identify common problems, and then guiding its members in making plans for organizing their resources in human skill and materials to achieve their immediate ends." This type of "social engineering" is based on a belief that "the apparent lack of opportunity in many communities is not due to lack of re- sources, but to people's limited experience and to their reluctance to express their thoughts and practical ideas." But if resources are clearly inadequate, then an approach may be made to the various extension agencies, demanding special apparatus and the teaching of skills. Patriotism (sometimes colored by indigenismo) and belief in democracy are characteristic of the ethos of community education, being important motivating forces amongst its initiators and im- plicit in its content. In Mexico the "cultural missionaries" were patriots, seeking to bring about the identification of the folk groups with the national symbols, and also enriching the national culture by encouraging and developing folk arts, music, and dance. In Haiti during the 1940's, young Haitians who had been abroad for professional training, feeling their national pride un- dermined by the deplorable conditions of their country and the indifference of their own class, the soi-disant dlite, worked in the Education Department under the Lescot government to introduce practical knowledge of the countryside and of the folk traditions of Haiti into school programs. After the 1946 Revolution, avant-  EDUCATION 129 EDUCATION gardists instituted "Schools of Orientation" and sent out social missionaries to teach health, home economics, and agriculture, to stimulate dramatic and musical folk arts, and especially to carry the twin message of improved living conditions and national redemption." Encouraged by these efforts, the Haitian government requested Unesco to undertake a scheme of fundamental education, which came to be known as the Marbial Valley Project. This valley is particularly poor, svith very limited possibilities of economic and agricultural development. After a careful study of the folk culture had been made, a campaign to improve health, to develop greater means of livelihood, and to teach literacy was initiated. An elementary school, a training center for extension workers in fundamental education, and a dispensary were opened. The Creole language was used, with a specially designed orthogra- phy.' " It was intended that, after a two-year period, this "pilot" scheme should act as a basis for the development of more exten- sive fundamental education in other parts of the country by the Haitian government. But, while useful lessons have been learned, today there is little sign of the continuation of these activities, even in Marbial Valley itself. It is indeed questionable whether a fundamental education campaign can succeed, except in a milieu of general economic advance; and, further, the study of the folk community must be complemented by studies of the structure, goals, and attitudes of the administrative group-chosen from the elite, since it is this group which is expected to carry out the program. Indeed, it is of the nature of these "structural disorders" that the reality of public administration is not the formally pronounced liturgies, the constitutions, and regulations, but the pyramid of benefits and pressures which encompass the personnel and determine their actions. Jamaica Welfare Ltd., founded in 1937, is interesting in the light of the foregoing, since from the start it was an independent (nongovernment) "social system," whose leadership and members gardists instituted "Schools of Orientation" and sent out social missionaries to teach health, home economics, and agriculture, to stimulate dramatic and musical folk arts, and especially to carry the twin message of improved living conditions and national redemption.'' Encouraged by these efforts, the Haitian government requested Unesco to undertake a scheme of fundamental education, which came to be known as the Marbial Valley Project. This valley is particularly poor, with very limited possibilities of economic and agricultural development. After a careful study of the folk culture had been made, a campaign to improve health, to develop greater means of livelihood, and to teach literacy was initiated. An elementary school, a training center for extension workers in fundamental education, and a dispensary were opened. The Creole language was used, with a specially designed orthogra- phy.' " It was intended that, after a two-year period, this "pilot" scheme should act as a basis for the development of more exten- sive fundamental education in other parts of the country by the Haitian government. But, while useful lessons have been learned, today there is little sign of the continuation of these activities, even in Marbial Valley itself. It is indeed questionable whether a fundamental education campaign can succeed, except in a milieu of general economic advance; and, further, the study of the folk community must be complemented by studies of the structure, goals, and attitudes of the administrative group-chosen from the elite, since it is this group which is expected to carry out the program. Indeed, it is of the nature of these "structural disorders" that the reality of public administration is not the formally pronounced liturgies, the constitutions, and regulations, but the pyramid of benefits and pressures which encompass the personnel and determine their actions. Jamaica Welfare Ltd., founded in 1937, is interesting in the light of the foregoing, since from the start it was an independent (nongovernment) "social system," whose leadership and members EDUCATION 129 gardists instituted "Schools of Orientation" and sent out social missionaries to teach health, home economics, and agriculture, to stimulate dramatic and musical folk arts, and especially to carry the twin message of improved living conditions and national redemption." Encouraged by these efforts, the Haitian government requested Unesco to undertake a scheme of fundamental education, which came to be known as the Marbial Valley Project. This valley is particularly poor, with very limited possibilities of economic and agricultural development. After a careful study of the folk culture had been made, a campaign to improve health, to develop greater means of livelihood, and to teach literacy was initiated. An elementary school, a training center for extension workers in fundamental education, and a dispensary were opened. The Creole language was used, with a specially designed orthogra- phy.1, " It was intended that, after a two-year period, this "pilot" scheme should act as a basis for the development of more exten- sive fundamental education in other parts of the country by the Haitian government. But, while useful lessons have been learned, today there is little sign of the continuation of these activities, even in Marbial Valley itself. It is indeed questionable whether a fundamental education campaign can succeed, except in a milieu of general economic advance; and, further, the study of the folk community must be complemented by studies of the structure, goals, and attitudes of the administrative group--chosen from the elite, since it is this group which is expected to carry out the program. Indeed, it is of the nature of these "structural disorders" that the reality of public administration is not the formally pronounced liturgies, the constitutions, and regulations, but the pyramid of benefits and pressures which encompass the personnel and determine their actions. Jamaica Welfare Ltd., founded in 1937, is interesting in the light of the foregoing, since from the start it was an independent (nongovernment) "social system," whose leadership and members  130 The Caribbean organized their internal relations and external activities around a set of shared ideals to which Protestant social gospel, labor, politics, nationalism, and a belief in the consensus of the common man all contributed; and, since the taking over of the organization by the government of Jamaica in 1949, much of this spirit has been preserved." Arising out of mass discontent amongst the banana growers with middle-class "patriotic" leadership, it was made possible by an arrangement with the United Fruit Company to create a fund accruing from a I per cent tax on all bananas exported, for "the cultural development of the island and the peasants." Here, as in Puerto Rico, "group life and experience have been used as the cornerstone for method," and it has laid greatest stress upon char- acter training, especially the need for self-reliance rather than de- pendence on government, patronage, and other sources of aid. This has been expressed in the successive programs and their purposes: the cinema program to help the masses acquire new standards of value; the development of cooperatives for character building, with economic advantage a secondary aim; cottage industries and a Food-for-Family-Fitness campaign to improve living standards and strengthen family life, especially the responsibility of the father; and, lastly, a literacy campaign, having in mind the re- sponsibilities of the citizen in a democratic society." In Trinidad the community education program of the Education Extension Service includes two types of activity aimed at bringing about the closer social integration of rural and semiurban commu- nities. The government is prepared to meet half the cost of com- munity centers planned and built by the community; and extension officers seek to bring together existing voluntary organizations into village councils to promote welfare. The milieu in which this service works is characterized by (1) "villages" which are geo- graphically indeterminate, and which have easy communication with the town; (2) coexistence of at least two cultural subgroups (East Indians and Negroes) in most rural areas, further sub- divided by competing denominational organizations (schools and 130 The Caribbean 130 The Caribbean organized their internal relations and external activities around a set of shared ideals to which Protestant social gospel, labor, politics, nationalism, and a belief in the consensus of the common man all contributed; and, since the taking over of the organization by the government of Jamaica in 1949, much of this spirit has been preserved." Arising out of mass discontent amongst the banana growers with middle-class "patriotic" leadership, it was made possible by an arrangement with the United Fruit Company to create a fund accruing from a I per cent tax on all bananas exported, for "the cultural development of the island and the peasants." Here, as in Puerto Rico, "group life and experience have been used as the cornerstone for method," and it has laid greatest stress upon char- acter training, especially the need for self-reliance rather than de- pendence on government, patronage, and other sources of aid. This has been expressed in the successive programs and their purposes: the cinema program to help the masses acquire new standards of value; the development of cooperatives for character building, with economic advantage a secondary aim; cottage industries and a Food-for-Family-Fitness campaign to improve living standards and strengthen family life, especially the responsibility of the father; and, lastly, a literacy campaign, having in mind the re- sponsibilities of the citizen in a democratic society.' In Trinidad the community education program of the Education Extension Service includes two types of activity aimed at bringing about the closer social integration of rural and semiurban commu- nities. The government is prepared to meet half the cost of com- munity centers planned and built by the community; and extension officers seek to bring together existing voluntary organizations into village councils to promote welfare. The milieu in which this service works is characterized by (1) "villages" which are geo- graphically indeterminate, and which have easy communication with the town; (2) coexistence of at least two cultural subgroups (East Indians and Negroes) in most rural areas, further sub- divided by competing denominational organizations (schools and organized their internal relations and external activities around a set of shared ideals to which Protestant social gospel, labor, politics, nationalism, and a belief in the consensus of the common man all contributed; and, since the taking over of the organization by the government of Jamaica in 1949, much of this spirit has been preserved." Arising out of mass discontent amongst the banana growers with middle-class "patriotic" leadership, it was made possible by an arrangement with the United Fruit Company to create a fund accruing from a I per cent tax on all bananas exported, for "the cultural development of the island and the peasants." Here, as in Puerto Rico, "group life and experience have been used as the cornerstone for method," and it has laid greatest stress upon char- acter training, especially the need for self-reliance rather than de- pendence on government, patronage, and other sources of aid. This has been expressed in the successive programs and their purposes: the cinema program to help the masses acquire new standards of value; the development of cooperatives for character building, with economic advantage a secondary aim; cottage industries and a Food-for-Family-Fitness campaign to improve living standards and strengthen family life, especially the responsibility of the father; and, lastly, a literacy campaign, having in mind the re- sponsibilities of the citizen in a democratic society." In Trinidad the community education program of the Education Extension Service includes two types of activity aimed at bringing about the closer social integration of rural and semiurban commu- nities. The government is prepared to meet half the cost of com- munity centers planned and built by the community; and extension officers seek to bring together existing voluntary organizations into village councils to promote welfare. The milieu in which this service works is characterized by (1) "villages" which are geo- graphically indeterminate, and which have easy communication with the town; (2) coexistence of at least two cultural subgroups (East Indians and Negroes) in most rural areas, further sub- divided by competing denominational organizations (schools and  EDUCATION 131 churches); and (3) a tendency for the plethora of social and recreational welfare organizations to center around individual leaders seeking social and political advancement and in competition with one another. While the village councils have in many cases brought sectional leaders together, and in some cases have carried out welfare and educational work, they have more often functioned as pressure groups to secure the extension of government services, and are closely involved in the present individualistic struggle for political power which the introduction of national and county representative institutions has set off. The most successful un- dertaking of this service is probably the Arts Festival, consisting of island-wide competition in drama, public speaking, handicrafts, and folk dancing, where the competitive spirit between groups (not villages) is given free rein and played out with full radio and press publicity. Thus the situation is, as regards community leadership, entirely different from that faced by the Mexican "cultural missionaries," working in cultural enclaves. In Mexico in many of the Indian groups, the leadership of the "elder," though firmly established by tradition, is inflexible, and cut off by the language from the field worker. In such cases, the latter have asked the elders to appoint bilingual persons from their group, who were also experienced in "the modern ways of doing things." They thus formed an authority capable of working with them, which at the same time had the sanction of the traditional community leader." A further experiment within the area is the training center at PAtzcuaro, Mexico, also initiated by Unesco. To this center from various countries come teams of workers in the Community Edu- cation and Extension fields. At Patzcuaro, they undergo six months of theoretical and practical training, after which they set out on a longer period of field work and training. Teams are assigned to neighboring villages. Their approach is first to gain acceptance as friends and to make surveys. Then, by providing organizing know-how, they help initiate group action to satisfy some of the immediate overt wants of the community. Having developed the EDUCATION 131 churches); and (3) a tendency for the plethora of social and recreational welfare organizations to center around individual leaders seeking social and political advancement and in competition with one another. While the village councils have in many cases brought sectional leaders together, and in some cases have carried out welfare and educational work, they have more often functioned as pressure groups to secure the extension of government services, and are closely involved in the present individualistic struggle for political power which the introduction of national and county representative institutions has set off. The most successful un- dertaking of this service is probably the Arts Festival, consisting of island-wide competition in drama, public speaking, handicrafts, and folk dancing, where the competitive spirit between groups (not villages) is given free rein and played out with full radio and press publicity. Thus the situation is, as regards community leadership, entirely different from that faced by the Mexican "cultural missionaries," working in cultural enclaves. In Mexico in many of the Indian groups, the leadership of the "elder," though firmly established by tradition, is inflexible, and cut off by the language from the field worker. In such cases, the latter have asked the elders to appoint bilingual persons from their group, who were also experienced in "the modern ways of doing things." They thus formed an authority capable of working with them, which at the same time had the sanction of the traditional community leader." A further experiment within the area is the training center at Pitzcuaro, Mexico, also initiated by Unesco. To this center from various countries come teams of workers in the Community Edu- cation and Extension fields. At Pitzcuaro, they undergo six months of theoretical and practical training, after which they set out on a longer period of field work and training. Teams are assigned to neighboring villages. Their approach is first to gain acceptance as friends and to make surveys. Then, by providing organizing know-how, they help initiate group action to satisfy some of the immediate overt wants of the community. Having developed the EDUCATION 131 churches); and (3) a tendency for the plethora of social and recreational welfare organizations to center around individual leaders seeking social and political advancement and in competition with one another. While the village councils have in many cases brought sectional leaders together, and in some cases have carried out welfare and educational work, they have more often functioned as pressure groups to secure the extension of government services, and are closely involved in the present individualistic struggle for political power which the introduction of national and county representative institutions has set off. The most successful un- dertaking of this service is probably the Arts Festival, consisting of island-wide competition in drama, public speaking, handicrafts, and folk dancing, where the competitive spirit between groups (not villages) is given free rein and played out with full radio and press publicity. Thus the situation is, as regards community leadership, entirely different from that faced by the Mexican "cultural missionaries," working in cultural enclaves. In Mexico in many of the Indian groups, the leadership of the "elder," though firmly established by tradition, is inflexible, and cut off by the language from the field worker. In such cases, the latter have asked the elders to appoint bilingual persons from their group, who were also experienced in "the modern ways of doing things." They thus formed an authority capable of working with them, which at the same time had the sanction of the traditional community leader." A further experiment within the area is the training center at PAtzcuaro, Mexico, also initiated by Unesco. To this center from various countries come teams of workers in the Community Edu- cation and Extension fields. At Pitzcuaro, they undergo six months of theoretical and practical training, after which they set out on a longer period of field work and training. Teams are assigned to neighboring villages. Their approach is first to gain acceptance as friends and to make surveys. Then, by providing organizing know-how, they help initiate group action to satisfy some of the immediate overt wants of the community. Having developed the  132 The Caribbean confidence of the community in itself-and in themselves-the student workers then attempt to bring about an awareness by the community of its needs, measured by the standards and progress of the national society. At this stage the students often go far beyond the neutral nonspecialist position of the Puerto Rican group organizers, developing or improvising and teaching special techniques of use to the villagers. The Pitzcuaro Center has al- ready sent out its students to many parts of the world. As at Rubio, it is realized that to carry through a new idea effectively and against the current of tradition, the individual worker, how- ever carefully selected and trained, should not be left to work in isolation, but should be a member of a team of fellows sharing the standards and enthusiasms picked up at the training center. V. Conclusion Intervention in the process of social change can hope to achieve its ends only if the knowledge of the community is adequate. The most systematic research into social change from the point of view of educational extension program has been done at Turrialba, Costa Rica, by the Inter-American Institute of Agricultural Sciences, in a six-year program whose objective has been "to ascertain the most effective means of stimulating community de- velopment through education, conceived in its broadest mean- ing."" Three of the most interesting conclusions are: (1) that educational programs have not paid sufficient attention to the prevalence of the hacienda or plantation system of institutional arrangement; (2) that social organization appears much stronger at the village than at the trade-center or small-town level, but educational programs in Latin America have hitherto failed to reach this level; (3) that programs have hitherto been accepted in the traditional spirit of patronage and have not involved the self-help and participation of the rural population. The special importance of the center is that it combines basic and ad hoc research into the process of social change with the training of 132 The Caribbean confidence of the community in itself-and in themselves-the student workers then attempt to bring about an awareness by the community of its needs, measured by the standards and progress of the national society. At this stage the students often go far beyond the neutral nonspecialist position of the Puerto Rican group organizers, developing or improvising and teaching special techniques of use to the villagers. The Pdtzcuaro Center has al- ready sent out its students to many parts of the world. As at Rubio, it is realized that to carry through a new idea effectively and against the current of tradition, the individual worker, how- ever carefully selected and trained, should not be left to work in isolation, but should be a member of a team of fellows sharing the standards and enthusiasms picked up at the training center. V. Conclusion Intervention in the process of social change can hope to achieve its ends only if the knowledge of the community is adequate. The most systematic research into social change from the point of view of educational extension program has been done at Turrialba, Costa Rica, by the Inter-American Institute of Agricultural Sciences, in a six-year program whose objective has been "to ascertain the most effective means of stimulating community de- velopment through education, conceived in its broadest mean- ing."' Three of the most interesting conclusions are: (1) that educational programs have not paid sufficient attention to the prevalence of the hacienda or plantation system of institutional arrangement; (2) that social organization appears much stronger at the village than at the trade-center or small-town level, but educational programs in Latin America have hitherto failed to reach this level; (3) that programs have hitherto been accepted in the traditional spirit of patronage and have not involved the self-help and participation of the rural population. The special importance of the center is that it combines basic and ad hoc research into the process of social change with the training of 132 The Caribbean confidence of the community in itself-and in themselves-the student workers then attempt to bring about an awareness by the community of its needs, measured by the standards and progress of the national society. At this stage the students often go far beyond the neutral nonspecialist position of the Puerto Rican group organizers, developing or improvising and teaching special techniques of use to the villagers. The PAtzcuaro Center has al- ready sent out its students to many parts of the world. As at Rubio, it is realized that to carry through a new idea effectively and against the current of tradition, the individual worker, how- ever carefully selected and trained, should not be left to work in isolation, but should be a member of a team of fellows sharing the standards and enthusiasms picked up at the training center. V. Conclusion Intervention in the process of social change can hope to achieve its ends only if the knowledge of the community is adequate. The most systematic research into social change from the point of view of educational extension program has been done at Turrialba, Costa Rica, by the Inter-American Institute of Agricultural Sciences, in a six-year program whose objective has been "to ascertain the most effective means of stimulating community de- velopment through education, conceived in its broadest mean- ing."" Three of the most interesting conclusions are: (1) that educational programs have not paid sufficient attention to the prevalence of the hacienda or plantation system of institutional arrangement; (2) that social organization appears much stronger at the village than at the trade-center or small-town level, but educational programs in Latin America have hitherto failed to reach this level; (3) that programs have hitherto been accepted in the traditional spirit of patronage and have not involved the self-help and participation of the rural population. The special importance of the center is that it combines basic and ad hoc research into the process of social change with the training of  EDUCATION 133 EDUCATION 133 EDUCATION 133 extension workers and the actual execution of extension programs for the improvement of agriculture and living conditions. By implication, community education is aimed at bringing about cultural, social, and economic changes throughout the area of a national territory. At present, it is in a rudimentary and experimental stage. On the one hand, educators are only now beginning to realize that their normal attitudes and unspoken assumptions about goals are no proper basis for policy planning. On the other hand, social scientists, having been in part convinced of the necessity of their application to the problems of initiating change by education, are only now beginning to find the proper research approaches and the means of making these available to the educators. And, beyond the problems relating to the content of programs, lies another of equal importance: the institutional establishment of community education as a functional part of the social structure. This implies the systematic yet fluid articulation by extension, welfare, and education agencies of an agreed policy based upon nonbureaucratic patterns, so that it can influence and be influenced by voluntary groups and social movements. The special significance of the establishment of community education as a national institution is that it becomes an organ whereby the goals of the local communities receive recognition by the national society, and through it these communities, in seeking their goals, contribute to the national welfare. BIBLIOGRAPHY ' Lowry Nelson, Rural Cuba (Minneapolis, 1950.) " Mary Proudfoot, Britain and the United States in the Caribbean (London, 1954). " Bronislaw Malinowski, The Dynamics of Culture Change (New Haven, 1950). * Robert Redfield, The Folk Culture of Yucatan (Chicago, 1946). " Preston James, Latin America (London, 1941). * United Nations, Mission to Haiti, Report of the United Nations Mission of Technical Assistance to the Republic of Haiti (New York, 1949). extension workers and the actual execution of extension programs for the improvement of agriculture and living conditions. By implication, community education is aimed at bringing about cultural, social, and economic changes throughout the area of a national territory. At present, it is in a rudimentary and experimental stage. On the one hand, educators are only now beginning to realize that their normal attitudes and unspoken assumptions about goals are no proper basis for policy planning. On the other hand, social scientists, having been in part convinced of the necessity of their application to the problems of initiating change by education, are only now beginning to find the proper research approaches and the means of making these available to the educators. And, beyond the problems relating to the content of programs, lies another of equal importance: the institutional establishment of community education as a functional part of the social structure. This implies the systematic yet fluid articulation by extension, welfare, and education agencies of an agreed policy based upon nonbureaucratic patterns, so that it can influence and be influenced by voluntary groups and social movements. The special significance of the establishment of community education as a national institution is that it becomes an organ whereby the goals of the local communities receive recognition by the national society, and through it these communities, in seeking their goals, contribute to the national welfare. BIBLIOGRAPHY ' Lowry Nelson, Rural Cuba (Minneapolis, 1950.) Mary Proudfoot, Britain and the United States in the Caribbean (London, 1954). ' Bronislaw Malinowski, The Dynamics of Culture Change (New Haven, 1950). * Robert Redfield, The Folk Culture of Yucatan (Chicago, 1946). " Preston James, Latin America (London, 1941). * United Nations, Mission to Haiti, Report of the United Nations Mission of Technical Assistance to the Republic of Haiti (New York, 1949). extension workers and the actual execution of extension programs for the improvement of agriculture and living conditions. By implication, community education is aimed at bringing about cultural, social, and economic changes throughout the area of a national territory. At present, it is in a rudimentary and experimental stage. On the one hand, educators are only now beginning to realize that their normal attitudes and unspoken assumptions about goals are no proper basis for policy planning. On the other hand, social scientists, having been in part convinced of the necessity of their application to the problems of initiating change by education, are only now beginning to find the proper research approaches and the means of making these available to the educators. And, beyond the problems relating to the content of programs, lies another of equal importance: the institutional establishment of community education as a functional part of the social structure. This implies the systematic yet fluid articulation by extension, welfare, and education agencies of an agreed policy based upon nonbureaucratic patterns, so that it can influence and be influenced by voluntary groups and social movements. The special significance of the establishment of community education as a national institution is that it becomes an organ whereby the goals of the local communities receive recognition by the national society, and through it these communities, in seeking their goals, contribute to the national welfare. BIBLIOGRAPHY ' Lowry Nelson, Rural Cuba (Minneapolis, 1950.) Mary Proudfoot, Britain and the United States in the Caribbean (London, 1954). Bronislaw Malinowski, The Dynamics of Culture Change (New Haven, 1950). * Robert Redfield, The Folk Culture of Yucatan (Chicago, 1946). " Preston James, Latin America (London, 1941). * United Nations, Mission to Haiti, Report of the United Nations Mission of Technical Assistance to the Republic of Haiti (New York, 1949).  134 The Caribbean the West Intdiant GConfertenc, Notvember 24 to Decemtber 3, 1952 (Trinti- dad, 1953). 'Alfred Mtrautx, Makintg aLivintg int tht Marbiatl Vatlley [Hatiti] wtith Those of Saintt Thomast~t, West Intdische Girlt, Deel XXXIV AII.4. Rick, 1952). VThroug 1947). Euaio PuroRio15) T2 Jui9. Mortal, tiatad Ecttoiomgicth Wttplictditt o Extension Wtt ai Rtytmala CttttunittScoical Analysis (H.Ne0. Ytodtk, 1949), "ulph viant Le,t46t Seleingt tin een Gestgtidt 1952and (J949)i. 1943). " Jth. . Fmtht, Eiadtrtureits in 120 Ctocttia(Blttt 1946 Ncnmit.di6, 7, N~to.i4(Jaaict153) EcnmiJth dies H.F 1t, Edos.tt 2 t Cattd 3 ~ (Jamaica) 146,Nt.4 1953t). GtttJohn . Fbay, Edtitnt it Eolmbiatt (Btllti 194, N. 6 7, Washitgtn). CttJtotn H. Etrbgy, Edattin i ta. NRictga (Buleti 1947, Nt. 6, Washington). 134 The Caribbean dtd, 1993). 'Alfred Metrauxt,. Makting aLiving int tht Marb1ialI Vtllty [Haiti] tith Those of SaintI Tomast, Wett Intdische Gidt, Dttl XXXIV ABA. Ritco, 1952). Thouttgh Vocatiotttl Educattiton (Putot ico, 1990). Wto it tOe Caribbtean Regiton, Ptreattd fott thet Caribbtan Agritultural Etensiton Developmenttt Cetertt (ota Rica, 1994), Nt. 50. "Mtttit Seigel, "Culturtt Chtangt int Gutematlt," Phylton, XV, Nt. 2. inO 1947).a omniy oiooia Aayi (e ok,14) " T. 9. Sittty, Welftare and Pltannintg int tht WetI Iniet (Otfotd, 1946). 1, No. 4 (Jttttica, 1993). 2"Wttt India oytl Ctotmmistiton Repot (H.M.S.O., Ltondton, 1945), Cttd. 6607. "Tht Firt-t Caribbeant Seminatr ton Adlt Educattiton 1952 (Jamatica, 1953). 2Jton H. Furtbay, Edutcttiton int Colombtia (Butlletint 1946, Nt. 6, 29Mtrcer Cto, Educattiton int Hati (Bule ttn 1948, Nt. 1, Wathingtton). "Ctameront D. FEtaugh, Educattiton int Gutemalat (Butlltin 1947, Nt. 7, Ws~thingtton). "Jton H. Futbty, Edutiontt in Cotat Rica (Butllettn 1946, Nt. 4, "Delit otz, Edutiont~t in Panamtta~ (Butlttin 1948, Nt. 12, Wath- ingtton). Cttttrotn D. Ebtaugb, Edutiont~t int El Salvadtr (Blletin~ 1947, No. 3, Wtthitgtont). "Ctttttttn D. Ebautgh, Edutiontft int Nictrtguat (Butllttint 1947, No. 6, shin~tgtt). "Chttlet F. Lootmis tand. others, Turtrhialba Sotcil Systemtt tatd tht Itro~dton of Chantgt (Illinois, 1953). 134 The Caribbean Caibbean, inclutditg documtation prepartd fott tht Fifth Sesiton tof the West tInditan Ctonftetenc, Novemtber, 24 to Decembert 3, 1952 (Tritti- dtad, 1993). 'Alfred Metttttt, akintg at Livintg int tht Marbial Valley [Haiti] w.ith Thote of Saint Thtttast, West Indlitche Gid1s, Deel XXXIV A0l.4. Ric, 1992). Thrtough Vtotttitontl Educa~titon (Puetrtt Rict, 1950). Wokin tht' Caribbean Region, Pttpatted fott tht Carihbbean Agricultural Extenstiton Devtlpttett Cetertt (ota Rica, 1954), Nt. 50. "Morrtit Seigel, "Ctlture, Chtange int Gutetmalt," Phylont, XV, Nt. 2. Ft at Gutealan,,t Commnttty, Socilltgictl Anatlysis (Nttt Yttk, 1949). "Pautl Blanshard, Democrac and Epirint tfhe Cribean(New YEo, 1947). "Rudolph vtan Lier, Samenttleving int een Grtentgtbitd (Holtand, 1949). " T. S. Simety, Welfttre antd Planntintg int the Wett Indies (OxfordI, 1946). "M. G. Smtith, Social Strturestt int 1820, Stoi and Econtomic Stutdiet, 1, No. 4 (Jtamatca, 1953). Econotmic Stiet, IL, Not. 2 tand 3 (Jttmaict). "Wet Itat oyatl Commttistiton Repttt (H.M.S.O., Ltondton, 1945), Cmtd. 6607. lE Tt Firt Ctaibbean Seminatr ton Adt Edution~ 3932 (Jamaitc, 1953). Jtohn Ft. Furtbay, Educattiton in Ctoombia (Bul~ltin 1946, Nt. 6, "Merttt ook, Edtucttittt in Hati (Butlltin 1948, Nt. 1, Washingtton). 'Ctamertn D. Fbtaugh, Educatiton in Gutemtatla (Bultint 1947, Nt. 7, Ws~thitgtont). ft Jhn H. Fttbty,. Edutiontt in Cottta Oica (Bulltin 1946, Nt. 4, G'Deit otz, Edutionh~ int Ptantama (Bulletin 1941, Nt. 12, Wash- ington). "Cttmerttn D. Ebttgh, Edtttttiton int El Satlvadtr (Btlletint 1947, Nt. 3, Wtthitgtton).  EDUCATION 135 Arden King, "Emertgent Folk Culturest and World Cuturet Chantge," "Harvey S. Perloff, Puertot Rico's Econoic Fturet (Chicago, 1950). J. G. Letyburi, The Hatiant People (Niew Havent, 1941). M. J. & F. Hershovitz, Trinidad Village (Newt Yorh, 1947). " Frd Wale, an~d others, "An Actiton Program in Puet ic," tournal of Social Isues IX, No. 2. ' Rogier Maier,, Social Welfare- Wotrh in Jam~icau (UNESCO, 1953). Caibbeaniu Comission Con~ference o Educattion ad Smal Scale Farmu~in~g, " M. Villaronuga,Soiauliand EconomicBackgroud to ductioni "I. Rodrigtues Bout, Soil anud Ecoomi Backldgrotund to Edutiontu ini Puetot, Ricoi. "Lot Lichted, Social anud Economic Background t Edtuiti in thet Netherlanuds Cartihhbean Coutriesuu. "Andrew Pearse, Soialu and Economic Background t Educattion ini the British WistiIndies. " . C. & J. Hotchhitt, Eductiontt of the Small1 Scale Ft-irmeru. W. H. Howes-, The School in Its Rlatti to the Cttmtmunity. "Edith Efrton, "Hati: Soiul Myth anid Realty" (in manusctript). EDUCATION 135 'Ardit Rinhg, uEmeigenit Flk Ciultures and World Cultre Chiange," Socia Fortits, XXI, No. 3. Htaruey S. Perltff, Pueto Ricoti Econtic Futturi (Chittgt, 1950). 5 . G. Le-yhtrt, Tht Haitin Peoplt (New Havtet, 1941). asM. J. & F. Herskhitz, Trintidad Village (Nut. Ytth, 1947). t FrdWl,adthes,A Acion ProgramiuintPtuetoic,"urnail if Social Issues, IX, Nt. 2. "Rtgier Miuiur, Stil Welfarei Workt in Jaica~ht (UNtESut, 1953). Caibbehani Commuiiont Cotferencey ont Educautin anid Smaill Stalt Farin-ig, Doumntsui (Pirt-of-Spit, 1954): tM.Villarontg,Socialanid EconoicuBacktgoud toEductio inii "I. Rodrigues Bit, Social antd Econicti Backugroiund ito Edution it Puto Ruto. 'P. Laigne, Social anid Econtici Backgrunid to Educaiitin in the 'Lit Lichtveld, Soialu anud Ecoictttu Backgound to Educatin in the Nether-linds Caibbehhtn Coiuntries. t'Adrew Pears, Social and EconoictBackground toEducaition in the British West tIndies. J. C. & J. Htchhiss, Eductiton tf the Smai~ll Scade Farmert. -W. H. Howesi, Thu Schttl in Its Relatton to the Commtuntity. W. H. Htowes, Commtutiy Education. "Anotn., Eductioin in Relatiton to Urbaiti onu itd lndtilisaion. "Edith Efiton, "Hatiti: Soial Myth ttd Rtality" (it mauscrtutipt). EDUCATION 135 'Ardent Eing, "Emergtent Flk Cutltue anud Wtld Ctliture Chanuge," Soial Ftrces, XXI, Nt. 3. "Hirvuy S. Perltff, Puto ico'st Econoic Fture (Chictgt, 1990). " . C. Leyhturt, Thu Hiitian People (Ntw Havent, 1941). "M. J. & F. Heutshovit, Truiidad Villagt (Niew Ytrh, 1947). Fred Wale,tandtthers, An AtiontProgrin Pit~uto Ric,Jo~urnl tf Stial Itstues, IX, Nt. 2. Rogier Maiuet-, Social Welfart Wiorh in Jaitcai (UNESCOt, 1959). Caibbhhan Comtuisiontu Conferencei on Educa-tioni anid Smatll Scaile Farinig, Dotumn~tst (Pot-of-Spit, 1954): " . RVillrgatt , Siaul and Eonomtuic Backgrountd t Edtucatin in Pueto Rict. "tI.LRoig uesBolialandt Econi c Backrou d tEducattionttin "LLicuhtveld, Social anid Econoic Background to Eduation in the Netherlands Caihbbean Counitiesu. '°AnidrewPearse, SiailiandlEconoicfBackgrountd toEducation in the Bt-itiuh West Inidies. "5. C. & J. Htchhkiss, Eductiont tf uhi Smattll Stale Ft-rmert. "W. H. Howes,, Thi Schttl it, lIts Rtliaiti to the Commnity. "W. H. Hioweu, Ciommiuniity Eductiont. "Anoit., Edutuion in Relatitn to Urbhisatuittu antd Indiustriilisation. "Edith frin, "Hait Socit1 Myth ttd eality" (int muittttipt).  S. S. Steinberg: ENGINEERING EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN SINCE IT HAS BEEN my good fortune to visit practically all the engineering schools in the twenty republics of Latin America, this conference offers a welcome opportunity to concentrate some- what more fully upon engineering education in one of the most interesting and closely related segments of the Western Hemi- sphere, namely, the Caribbean. Two previous papers have re- ported observations resulting from trips in 1945 and in 1948.* The present occasion permits supplementing these and presenting recent data and observations resulting from four additional pro- fessional trips taken to and through the Caribbean area since 1948. Geographically, this conference considers the Caribbean to in- clude Mexico, Central America, Colombia, Venezuela, the re- publics of the West Indies, and the colonial mainland. From an engineering point of view, the economic and industrial develop- ment of these countries varies greatly, and it is interesting to spectulate as to what factors have helped or hindered this de- velopment. While generalizations are rarely accurate the writer has come to the conclusion that the progress of a modern nation may be * "Engineering Education in Latin America," Journal of Engineering Education, XXXVII, No. 4 (December, 1946); "Engineering Mission to Latin America," ibid., XL, No. 2 (October, 1949). 11 S. S. Steinberg: ENGINEERING EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN SINCE IT HAS BEEN my good fortune to visit practically all the engineering schools in the twenty republics of Latin America, this conference offers a welcome opportunity to concentrate some- what more fully upon engineering education in one of the most interesting and closely related segments of the Western Hemi- sphere, namely, the Caribbean. Two previous papers have re- ported observations resulting from trips in 1945 and in 1948.* The present occasion permits supplementing these and presenting recent data and observations resulting from four additional pro- fessional trips taken to and through the Caribbean area since 1948. Geographically, this conference considers the Caribbean to in- clude Mexico, Central America, Colombia, Venezuela, the re- publics of the West Indies, and the colonial mainland. From an engineering point of view, the economic and industrial develop- ment of these countries varies greatly, and it is interesting to spectulate as to what factors have helped or hindered this de- velopment. While generalizations are rarely accurate the writer has come to the conclusion that the progress of a modern nation may be * "Engineering Education in Latin America," Journal of Engineering Education, XXXVII, No. 4 (December, 1946); "Engineering Mission to Latin America," ibid., XL, No. 2 (October, 1949). 136 S. S. Steinberg: ENGINEERING EDUCATION IN THE CARIBBEAN SINCE IT HAS BEEN my good fortune to visit practically all the engineering schools in the twenty republics of Latin America, this conference offers a welcome opportunity to concentrate some- what more fully upon engineering education in one of the most interesting and closely related segments of the Western Hemi- sphere, namely, the Caribbean. Two previous papers have re- ported observations resulting from trips in 1945 and in 1948.* The present occasion permits supplementing these and presenting recent data and observations resulting from four additional pro- fessional trips taken to and through the Caribbean area since 1948. Geographically, this conference considers the Caribbean to in- clude Mexico, Central America, Colombia, Venezuela, the re- publics of the West Indies, and the colonial mainland. From an engineering point of view, the economic and industrial develop- ment of these countries varies greatly, and it is interesting to spectulate as to what factors have helped or hindered this de- velopment. While generalizations are rarely accurate the writer has come to the conclusion that the progress of a modern nation may be * "Engineering Education in Latin America," Journal of Engineering Education, XXXVII, No. 4 (December, 1946); "Engineering Mission to Latin America," ibid., XL, No. 2 (October, 1949). 136  EDUCATION 137 EDUCATION 137 EDUCATION 137 measured by the extent to which it utilizes the services of the scientist and the professional engineer. In a nation where little engineering knowledge is applied, little progress is achieved. Basi- cally, we find that the progress of a nation is dependent upon (1) Her people: their origins, their characteristics, and their culture; (2) Her geography and geology: the topography, cli- mate, and natural resources; and (3) Her government: its integrity and stability. When measured by the above criteria, the progress of the Caribbean countries falls within a wide range from low to high, with much opportunity for improvement in all. Historically, the Caribbean area contains evidence of the ap- plication of engineering principles of a high order in the great early Indian civilizations that flourished in the lowlands of Mex- ico, Guatemala, and Honduras at least a century before the arrival of the Spaniards. The great stone palaces, temples, pyra- mids, and sculptures unearthed by archeologists at Chichen Itzd, Quirigua, and Copan are evidence of the high order of accomplish- ment by the early engineer-architects who conceived and built these monumental structures-and did so without the benefit of the wheel or the horse. The accompanying tabulation presents pertinent information concerning each of the engineering schools in the Caribbean area. The data either were supplied directly by the engineering school or are from other reliable sources. The latest information was requested of all the schools listed, but only a few responded. To summarize the tabulation, we find there are thirty-two engineering schools in the region, and they range from one in each of the small countries to eleven in Mexico, three in Cuba, six in Colombia, and three in Venezuela. There are some 12,000 engineering students in attendance, taught by more than 800 faculty members, in curricula of from five to six years' duration. The branch of the profession chiefly taught is civil engineering, measured by the extent to which it utilizes the services of the scientist and the professional engineer. In a nation where little engineering knowledge is applied, little progress is achieved. Basi- cally, we find that the progress of a nation is dependent upon (1) Her people: their origins, their characteristics, and their culture; (2) Her geography and geology: the topography, cli- mate, and natural resources; and (3) Her government: its integrity and stability. When measured by the above criteria, the progress of the Caribbean countries falls within a wide range from low to high, with much opportunity for improvement in all. Historically, the Caribbean area contains evidence of the ap- plication of engineering principles of a high order in the great early Indian civilizations that flourished in the lowlands of Mex- ico, Guatemala, and Honduras at least a century before the arrival of the Spaniards. The great stone palaces, temples, pyra- mids, and sculptures unearthed by archeologists at Chichen Itzd, Quirigua, and Copdn are evidence of the high order of accomplish- ment by the early engineer-architects who conceived and built these monumental structures-and did so without the benefit of the wheel or the horse. The accompanying tabulation presents pertinent information concerning each of the engineering schools in the Caribbean area. The data either were supplied directly by the engineering school or are from other reliable sources. The latest information was requested of all the schools listed, but only a few responded. To summarize the tabulation, we find there are thirty-two engineering schools in the region, and they range from one in each of the small countries to eleven in Mexico, three in Cuba, six in Colombia, and three in Venezuela. There are some 12,000 engineering students in attendance, taught by more than 800 faculty members, in curricula of from five to six years' duration. The branch of the profession chiefly taught is civil engineering, measured by the extent to which it utilizes the services of the scientist and the professional engineer. In a nation where little engineering knowledge is applied, little progress is achieved. Basi- cally, we find that the progress of a nation is dependent upon (1) Her people: their origins, their characteristics, and their culture; (2) Her geography and geology: the topography, cli- mate, and natural resources; and (3) Her government: its integrity and stability. When measured by the above criteria, the progress of the Caribbean countries falls within a wide range from low to high, with much opportunity for improvement in all. Historically, the Caribbean area contains evidence of the ap- plication of engineering principles of a high order in the great early Indian civilizations that flourished in the lowlands of Mex- ico, Guatemala, and Honduras at least a century before the arrival of the Spaniards. The great stone palaces, temples, pyra- mids, and sculptures unearthed by archeologists at Chichen Itzd, Quirigua, and Copdn are evidence of the high order of accomplish- ment by the early engineer-architects who conceived and built these monumental structures-and did so without the benefit of the wheel or the horse. The accompanying tabulation presents pertinent information concerning each of the engineering schools in the Caribbean area. The data either were supplied directly by the engineering school or are from other reliable sources. The latest information was requested of all the schools listed, but only a few responded. To summarize the tabulation, we find there are thirty-two engineering schools in the region, and they range from one in each of the small countries to eleven in Mexico, three in Cuba, six in Colombia, and three in Venezuela. There are some 12,000 engineering students in attendance, taught by more than 800 faculty members, in curricula of from five to six years' duration. The branch of the profession chiefly taught is civil engineering,   - ?_ ; o  I i y r  . , .. - ._ - c_ a  142 The Caribbean 142 The Caribbean so important in the development of needed public works; and next is chemical engineering, which plays so vital a part in the development of industries. In many countries, the type of cur- ricula taught is a guide to the resources of the nation and the trend of its industrial development. Mention should be made of the University of the Andes in Bogotd, Colombia, which is not listed. It offers basic training in engineering to those students who wish to continue their careers at the engineering schools of the universities of Illinois, Pittsburgh, and Texas, with whom they have exchange agreements. II The criteria by which a good engineering school is measured are both qualitative and quantitative. The qualitative criteria in- clude: the extent to which the curriculum develops in the student the ability to apply creatively scientific principles to the design and development of structures, machines, and processes, and to their economic and safe operation; the qualifications, interest, and professional productivity of the faculty; the standards and quality of instruction; the progression of courses; the scholastic work of the students; the record of graduates in practice and in research; and finally, the attitude and policy of the administration toward its engineering school. The quantitative critera include: the auspices, control, and organization of the engineering school; the curricula offered and degrees conferred; the basis of and requirements for the admission of students; the graduation requirements; the teaching loads; the physical facilities of the engineering college; and finally, the amount and sources of its income and its expenditures. III The Caribbean area has some of the oldest universities in the Western Hemisphere, of whose distinguished tradition and ex- cellence in certain fields their peoples are justly proud. The so important in the development of needed public works; and next is chemical engineering, which plays so vital a part in the development of industries. In many countries, the type of cur- ricula taught is a guide to the resources of the nation and the trend of its industrial development. Mention should be made of the University of the Andes in Bogota, Colombia, which is not listed. It offers basic training in engineering to those students who wish to continue their careers at the engineering schools of the universities of Illinois, Pittsburgh, and Texas, with whom they have exchange agreements. If The criteria by which a good engineering school is measured are both qualitative and quantitative. The qualitative criteria in- clude: the extent to which the curriculum develops in the student the ability to apply creatively scientific principles to the design and development of structures, machines, and processes, and to their economic and safe operation; the qualifications, interest, and professional productivity of the faculty; the standards and quality of instruction; the progression of courses; the scholastic work of the students; the record of graduates in practice and in research; and finally, the attitude and policy of the administration toward its engineering school. The quantitative critera include: the auspices, control, and organization of the engineering school; the curricula offered and degrees conferred; the basis of and requirements for the admission of students; the graduation requirements; the teaching loads; the physical facilities of the engineering college; and finally, the amount and sources of its income and its expenditures. III The Caribbean area has some of the oldest universities in the Western Hemisphere, of whose distinguished tradition and ex- cellence in certain fields their peoples are justly proud. The 142 The Caribbean so important in the development of needed public works; and next is chemical engineering, which plays so vital a part in the development of industries. In many countries, the type of cur- ricula taught is a guide to the resources of the nation and the trend of its industrial development. Mention should be made of the University of the Andes in Bogota, Colombia, which is not listed. It offers basic training in engineering to those students who wish to continue their careers at the engineering schools of the universities of Illinois, Pittsburgh, and Texas, with whom they have exchange agreements. II The criteria by which a good engineering school is measured are both qualitative and quantitative. The qualitative criteria in- clude: the extent to which the curriculum develops in the student the ability to apply creatively scientific principles to the design and development of structures, machines, and processes, and to their economic and safe operation; the qualifications, interest, and professional productivity of the faculty; the standards and quality of instruction; the progression of courses; the scholastic work of the students; the record of graduates in practice and in research; and finally, the attitude and policy of the administration toward its engineering school. The quantitative critera include: the auspices, control, and organization of the engineering school; the curricula offered and degrees conferred; the basis of and requirements for the admission of students; the graduation requirements; the teaching loads; the physical facilities of the engineering college; and finally, the amount and sources of its income and its expenditures. III The Caribbean area has some of the oldest universities in the Western Hemisphere, of whose distinguished tradition and ex- cellence in certain fields their peoples are justly proud. The  EDUCATION 143 EDUCATION 143 EDUCATION primary aim in the development of the educational systems in the Caribbean (and this is true in practically all of Latin America) was definitely in the fields of liberal arts and law. This is no accident but corresponds with the Spanish character and tradition. Even to this day in some areas, it is considered undignified to work with one's hands or to be associated professionally with those who do. Consequently, the physical sciences and engineering are comparatively recent additions in the universities and not yet fully appreciated or supported financially, except in a few of the larger and more progressive countries. The emphasis in most schools is on the theoretical, due either to the nonexistence or the inadequacy of their engineering labora- tories. Many of the engineering school administrators and faculty members realize this, but the meager university budgets do not permit such expenditures for costly imported equipment. There is generally little equipment for testing of materials or for exercises in mechanics. In many cases, the equipment in the laboratories is secondhand, and often it is the personal property of the pro- fessors. The students acquire most of their practical experience outside the engineering school laboratories-in government or private enterprises in which their professors are engaged. Some govern- ment schools are equipped to conduct routine testing upon sup- plies purchased for the various government uses, but there is little evidence of any research work. According to many Caribbean industrialists, the engineering graduates of the local universities are not satisfactory for their needs. In most of the Caribbean engineering schools, the professors are professional engineers who devote part of their time to the classroom and the remainder to their private or governmental practice. They enjoy their association with the students and the prestige of the university, and they bring to their class the past experiences of their professional life. Even the rector of the university and the dean of the engineering faculty have their private business interests outside the university. This arrange- primary aim in the development of the educational systems in the Caribbean (and this is true in practically all of Latin America) was definitely in the fields of liberal arts and law. This is no accident but corresponds with the Spanish character and tradition. Even to this day in some areas, it is considered undignified to work with one's hands or to be associated professionally with those who do. Consequently, the physical sciences and engineering are comparatively recent additions in the universities and not yet fully appreciated or supported financially, except in a few of the larger and more progressive countries. The emphasis in most schools is on the theoretical, due either to the nonexistence or the inadequacy of their engineering labora- tories. Many of the engineering school administrators and faculty members realize this, but the meager university budgets do not permit such expenditures for costly imported equipment. There is generally little equipment for testing of materials or for exercises in mechanics. In many cases, the equipment in the laboratories is secondhand, and often it is the personal property of the pro- fessors. The students acquire most of their practical experience outside the engineering school laboratories-in government or private enterprises in which their professors are engaged. Some govern- ment schools are equipped to conduct routine testing upon sup- plies purchased for the various government uses, but there is little evidence of any research work. According to many Caribbean industrialists, the engineering graduates of the local universities are not satisfactory for their needs. In most of the Caribbean engineering schools, the professors are professional engineers who devote part of their time to the classroom and the remainder to their private or governmental practice. They enjoy their association with the students and the prestige of the university, and they bring to their class the past experiences of their professional life. Even the rector of the university and the dean of the engineering faculty have their private business interests outside the university. This arrange- primary aim in the development of the educational systems in the Caribbean (and this is true in practically all of Latin America) was definitely in the fields of liberal arts and law. This is no accident but corresponds with the Spanish character and tradition. Even to this day in some areas, it is considered undignified to work with one's hands or to be associated professionally with those who do. Consequently, the physical sciences and engineering are comparatively recent additions in the universities and not yet fully appreciated or supported financially, except in a few of the larger and more progressive countries. The emphasis in most schools is on the theoretical, due either to the nonexistence or the inadequacy of their engineering labora- tories. Many of the engineering school administrators and faculty members realize this, but the meager university budgets do not permit such expenditures for costly imported equipment. There is generally little equipment for testing of materials or for exercises in mechanics. In many cases, the equipment in the laboratories is secondhand, and often it is the personal property of the pro- fessors. The students acquire most of their practical experience outside the engineering school laboratories-in government or private enterprises in which their professors are engaged. Some govern- ment schools are equipped to conduct routine testing upon sup- plies purchased for the various government uses, but there is little evidence of any research work. According to many Caribbean industrialists, the engineering graduates of the local universities are not satisfactory for their needs. In most of the Caribbean engineering schools, the professors are professional engineers who devote part of their time to the classroom and the remainder to their private or governmental practice. They enjoy their association with the students and the prestige of the university, and they bring to their class the past experiences of their professional life. Even the rector of the university and the dean of the engineering faculty have their private business interests outside the university. This arrange-  144 The Caribbean 144 The Caribbean 144 The Caribbean ment is not conducive to the best contact between student and professor and does not permit opportunity for research and in- vestigation. A professor's salary depends on the amount of time he spends at the university, but the compensation is usually small by any standard. Teaching is mainly by lecture and often without the use of textbooks. Teachers devote three to nine hours a week to their classes. Many classes are held in the evening so that the students and teachers may be gainfully employed during the working day. Most of the Caribbean schools operate on the European system with only one examination at the close of the academic year, with no quizzes and no class attendance required. Great emphasis is placed upon the final examinations. In many countries, engineer- ing education suffers from rigidity of curriculum as a result of the establishment of curricula by legislation of the national as- sembly. The engineering schools are handicapped by the fact that little basic engineering science is taught in the secondary schools, so that this work must be given in the engineering school. Com- paratively few technical or trade schools exist in the region. Where they are in operation, they are often sadly lacking in machinery and small tools for training purposes. There is great need in some of the countries for secondary-school technical education in the training of machinists, mechanics, draftsmen, and other techni- cians to provide for the needs of developing industry. In recent years, a new spirit seems to be abroad in many of the engineering schools in the Caribbean. New buildings on new campuses to house engineering education have been constructed, or are under construction, at the universities in many of the countries. Among these are Mexico (in the capital and in Monter- rey), Cuba, the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Panama, Colombia, and Venezuela. The laboratories are being equipped with scientific and engineering apparatus from the United States. ment is not conducive to the best contact between student and professor and does not permit opportunity for research and in- vestigation. A professor's salary depends on the amount of time he spends at the university, but the compensation is usually small by any standard. Teaching is mainly by lecture and often without the use of textbooks. Teachers devote three to nine hours a week to their classes. Many classes are held in the evening so that the students and teachers may be gainfully employed during the working day. Most of the Caribbean schools operate on the European system with only one examination at the close of the academic year, with no quizzes and no class attendance required. Great emphasis is placed upon the final examinations. In many countries, engineer- ing education suffers from rigidity of curriculum as a result of the establishment of curricula by legislation of the national as- sembly. The engineering schools are handicapped by the fact that little basic engineering science is taught in the secondary schools, so that this work must be given in the engineering school. Com- paratively few technical or trade schools exist in the region. Where they are in operation, they are often sadly lacking in machinery and small tools for training purposes. There is great need in some of the countries for secondary-school technical education in the training of machinists, mechanics, draftsmen, and other techni- cians to provide for the needs of developing industry. In recent years, a new spirit seems to be abroad in many of the engineering schools in the Caribbean. New buildings on new campuses to house engineering education have been constructed, or are under construction, at the universities in many of the countries. Among these are Mexico (in the capital and in Monter- rey), Cuba, the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Panama, Colombia, and Venezuela. The laboratories are being equipped with scientific and engineering apparatus from the United States. ment is not conducive to the best contact between student and professor and does not permit opportunity for research and in- vestigation. A professor's salary depends on the amount of time he spends at the university, but the compensation is usually small by any standard. Teaching is mainly by lecture and often without the use of textbooks. Teachers devote three to nine hours a week to their classes. Many classes are held in the evening so that the students and teachers may be gainfully employed during the working day. Most of the Caribbean schools operate on the European system with only one examination at the close of the academic year, with no quizzes and no class attendance required. Great emphasis is placed upon the final examinations. In many countries, engineer- ing education suffers from rigidity of curriculum as a result of the establishment of curricula by legislation of the national as- sembly. The engineering schools are handicapped by the fact that little basic engineering science is taught in the secondary schools, so that this work must be given in the engineering school. Com- paratively few technical or trade schools exist in the region. Where they are in operation, they are often sadly lacking in machinery and small tools for training purposes. There is great need in some of the countries for secondary-school technical education in the training of machinists, mechanics, draftsmen, and other techni- cians to provide for the needs of developing industry. In recent years, a new spirit seems to be abroad in many of the engineering schools in the Caribbean. New buildings on new campuses to house engineering education have been constructed, or are under construction, at the universities in many of the countries. Among these are Mexico (in the capital and in Monter- rey), Cuba, the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Panama, Colombia, and Venezuela. The laboratories are being equipped with scientific and engineering apparatus from the United States.  EDUCATION 145 EDUCATION 145 EDUCATION IV Engineering education, now in its infancy in the Caribbean, is destined to progress rapidly in the years ahead. The region needs for its economic well-being engineers to assist in the de- velopment of transportation, communication, industry, electric power, public health facilities, and the modernization of agricul- ture. The ultimate objective would be a higher standard of living for the people of the area. This objective can be attained if the peoples and their governments are willing to make the minimum expenditures necessary to do so. I am hopeful that they will. I like the statement of Vauban, the great French engineer and proteg6 of Louis XIV, who in 1655 spoke of the engineer of his day as follows: "There is no perfect engineer, because it is necessary that he be at the same time a carpenter, a bricklayer, an architect, a painter, an orator, a politician, a soldier, and a good official, and above all that he have a great heart, a serene spirit and much experience." This definition seems particularly appropriate to the role that must be played by the professional engineers in some of the underdeveloped countries in the Carib- bean where the number of trained men is limited. To any university in the Caribbean wanting to raise its engineer- ing school to acceptable standards, it is recommended that ar- rangements be made for a thorough study of its existing institution and its requirements. The report of such a study would contain complete and specific recommendations for course content, staff qualifications, physical facilities, and even detailed lists of needed equipment. North American engineering educators are ready and willing to assist their colleagues in the engineering schools to the south and, in the spirit of neighborly cooperation, to give them of their experience. IV Engineering education, now in its infancy in the Caribbean, is destined to progress rapidly in the years ahead. The region needs for its economic well-being engineers to assist in the de- velopment of transportation, communication, industry, electric power, public health facilities, and the modernization of agricul- ture. The ultimate objective would be a higher standard of living for the people of the area. This objective can be attained if the peoples and their governments are willing to make the minimum expenditures necessary to do so. I am hopeful that they will. I like the statement of Vauban, the great French engineer and protege of Louis XIV, who in 1655 spoke of the engineer of his day as follows: "There is no perfect engineer, because it is necessary that he be at the same time a carpenter, a bricklayer, an architect, a painter, an orator, a politician, a soldier, and a good official, and above all that he have a great heart, a serene spirit and much experience." This definition seems particularly appropriate to the role that must be played by the professional engineers in some of the underdeveloped countries in the Carib- bean where the number of trained men is limited. To any university in the Caribbean wanting to raise its engineer- ing school to acceptable standards, it is recommended that ar- rangements be made for a thorough study of its existing institution and its requirements. The report of such a study would contain complete and specific recommendations for course content, staff qualifications, physical facilities, and even detailed lists of needed equipment. North American engineering educators are ready and willing to assist their colleagues in the engineering schools to the south and, in the spirit of neighborly cooperation, to give them of their experience. IV Engineering education, now in its infancy in the Caribbean, is destined to progress rapidly in the years ahead. The region needs for its economic well-being engineers to assist in the de- velopment of transportation, communication, industry, electric power, public health facilities, and the modernization of agricul- ture. The ultimate objective would be a higher standard of living for the people of the area. This objective can be attained if the peoples and their governments are willing to make the minimum expenditures necessary to do so. I am hopeful that they will. I like the statement of Vauban, the great French engineer and protege of Louis XIV, who in 1655 spoke of the engineer of his day as follows: "There is no perfect engineer, because it is necessary that he be at the same time a carpenter, a bricklayer, an architect, a painter, an orator, a politician, a soldier, and a good official, and above all that he have a great heart, a serene spirit and much experience." This definition seems particularly appropriate to the role that must be played by the professional engineers in some of the underdeveloped countries in the Carib- bean where the number of trained men is limited. To any university in the Caribbean wanting to raise its engineer- ing school to acceptable standards, it is recommended that ar- rangements be made for a thorough study of its existing institution and its requirements. The report of such a study would contain complete and specific recommendations for course content, staff qualifications, physical facilities, and even detailed lists of needed equipment. North American engineering educators are ready and willing to assist their colleagues in the engineering schools to the south and, in the spirit of neighborly cooperation, to give them of their experience.   Part V Part V Part V RELIGION RELIGION RELIGION   Paul S. Lietz: THE ROLE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CARIBBEAN LIFE THE CASUAL VISITOR in the Caribbean area is confronted at almost all points of his journey with a number of highly per- plexing contrasts. He becomes immediately and acutely aware of the sharp extremes of poverty and wealth. If he is a bit more discerning, he will note similar extremes in the class structure, in the education of the people, and in the knowledge and practice of the Catholic faith. A well-known Cuban Jesuit recently spoke of the two nations of men in the Caribbean area, one superior to the other and holding itself aloof-the plutocracy and the penniless, the aristocrats and the pariahs, the learned and the il- literate, and, in religion, a minority group of intelligent and in- structed Catholics in contrast to a vast mass of "Catholics of emotion."' The interrelationship of the first three categories is rather ob- vious; wealth, superior caste, and education are roughly character- istic of the same social group. A breakdown of the 1950 Mexican census, for example, shows that those who can afford to buy bread and shoes-the economic markers dividing the Mexicans Gaston Baquero, interview with P. Alberto de Castro, S.J., Diario de to Marina, La Habana, Cuba, April 23, 1954. 149 Paul S. Lietz: THE ROLE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CARIBBEAN LIFE THE CASUAL VISITOR in the Caribbean area is confronted at almost all points of his journey with a number of highly per- plexing contrasts. He becomes immediately and acutely aware of the sharp extremes of poverty and wealth. If he is a bit more discerning, he will note similar extremes in the class structure, in the education of the people, and in the knowledge and practice of the Catholic faith. A well-known Cuban Jesuit recently spoke of the two nations of men in the Caribbean area, one superior to the other and holding itself aloof-the plutocracy and the penniless, the aristocrats and the pariahs, the learned and the il- literate, and, in religion, a minority group of intelligent and in- structed Catholics in contrast to a vast mass of "Catholics of emotion." The interrelationship of the first three categories is rather ob- vious; wealth, superior caste, and education are roughly character- istic of the same social group. A breakdown of the 1950 Mexican census, for example, shows that those who can afford to buy bread and shoes-the economic markers dividing the Mexicans Gaston Baquero, interview with P. Alberto de Castro, S.J., Diario de la Marina, La Habana, Cuba, April 23, 1954. 149 Paul S. Lietz: THE ROLE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CARIBBEAN LIFE THE CASUAL VISITOR in the Caribbean area is confronted at almost all points of his journey with a number of highly per- plexing contrasts. He becomes immediately and acutely aware of the sharp extremes of poverty and wealth. If he is a bit more discerning, he will note similar extremes in the class structure, in the education of the people, and in the knowledge and practice of the Catholic faith. A well-known Cuban Jesuit recently spoke of the two nations of men in the Caribbean area, one superior to the other and holding itself aloof-the plutocracy and the penniless, the aristocrats and the pariahs, the learned and the il- literate, and, in religion, a minority group of intelligent and in- structed Catholics in contrast to a vast mass of "Catholics of emotion."1 The interrelationship of the first three categories is rather ob- vious; wealth, superior caste, and education are roughly character- istic of the same social group. A breakdown of the 1950 Mexican census, for example, shows that those who can afford to buy bread and shoes-the economic markers dividing the Mexicans Gast6n Baquero, interview with P. Alberto de Castro, S.J., Diario de la Marina, La Habana, Cuba, April 23, 1954.  150 The Caribbean into two fairly equal groups-are also the ones who can read and write. On the other hand, a grinding poverty besets the others, which causes half the nation's children under fourteen to be undernourished, sufficiently among a considerable number of them to impair their chances for normal physical and mental growth. A third of those between six and twenty-five years of age have never been to school.' As to the Church, however, the disjunction does not fit so accurately. Its condition reflects the poverty of the masses in an important way. Its teaching and ministering members, the clergy, relying in many places entirely on the pittance that these poor can con- tribute, are scarcely better off than their flocks. The conditions in which they must live, in fact, demand almost heroic virtue in those who would enter the priesthood. Poverty looms large as a major cause for the shortage of clergy, and this shortage in turn reflects itself in the failure of large numbers of the people to be properly instructed or even to fulfill the ordinary obligations of their religion. In Cuba, for instance, where a recent report shows that only 25 per cent of the people practice their Catholicism, the archbishop finds that he cannot fill the demands put upon him for the ministrations of priests.0 In Guatemala, the late difficulties have pointed up the numerical weakness of the clergy. In a nominally Catholic population of over 2,700,000, there are only 153 priests, or one for approximately 18,000 persons.' In other places the disparity is greater. By contrast, United States statistics show one for each thousand Catholics or less. Moreover, the lack of funds for seminaries, schools, and col- leges has resulted in many places in a stagnation, if not complete obliteration, of Catholic intellectual life. The meager total of 1,442 schools in the Caribbean area, with an enrollment of 304,000 pupils in a Catholic population of over 21,000,000, ' The New York Times, July 31, 1953. New World, Chicago, September 20, 1954; "La Voz de los prelados latinoamericanos," Latinoamirica (Mexico, D.F., Jan. 1, 1950), p. 12. ' "Horizon International," Relations, XVI (Montreal, August, 1954), 234-236. 150 The Caribbean 150 The Caribbean into two fairly equal groups-are also the ones who can read and write. On the other hand, a grinding poverty besets the others, which causes half the nation's children under fourteen to be undernourished, sufficiently among a considerable number of them to impair their chances for normal physical and mental growth. A third of those between six and twenty-five years of age have never been to school.' As to the Church, however, the disjunction does not fit so accurately. Its condition reflects the poverty of the masses in an important way. Its teaching and ministering members, the clergy, relying in many places entirely on the pittance that these poor can con- tribute, are scarcely better off than their flocks. The conditions in which they must live, in fact, demand almost heroic virtue in those who would enter the priesthood. Poverty looms large as a major cause for the shortage of clergy, and this shortage in turn reflects itself in the failure of large numbers of the people to be properly instructed or even to fulfill the ordinary obligations of their religion. In Cuba, for instance, where a recent report shows that only 25 per cent of the people practice their Catholicism, the archbishop finds that he cannot fill the demands put upon him for the ministrations of priests.' In Guatemala, the late difficulties have pointed up the numerical weakness of the clergy. In a nominally Catholic population of over 2,700,000, there are only 153 priests, or one for approximately 18,000 persons.' In other places the disparity is greater. By contrast, United States statistics show one for each thousand Catholics or less. Moreover, the lack of funds for seminaries, schools, and col- leges has resulted in many places in a stagnation, if not complete obliteration, of Catholic intellectual life. The meager total of 1,442 schools in the Caribbean area, with an enrollment of 304,000 pupils in a Catholic population of over 21,000,000, , The New York Times, July 31, 1953. New World, Chicago, September 20, 1954; "La Voz de los prelados latinoamericanos," Latinoamerica (Mexico, D.F., Jan. 1, 1950), p. 12. ' "Horizon International," Relations, XVI (Montreal, August, 1954), 234-236. into two fairly equal groups-are also the ones who can read and write. On the other hand, a grinding poverty besets the others, which causes half the nation's children under fourteen to be undernourished, sufficiently among a considerable number of them to impair their chances for normal physical and mental growth. A third of those between six and twenty-five years of age have never been to school.' As to the Church, however, the disjunction does not fit so accurately. Its condition reflects the poverty of the masses in an important way. Its teaching and ministering members, the clergy, relying in many places entirely on the pittance that these poor can con- tribute, are scarcely better off than their flocks. The conditions in which they must live, in fact, demand almost heroic virtue in those who would enter the priesthood. Poverty looms large as a major cause for the shortage of clergy, and this shortage in turn reflects itself in the failure of large numbers of the people to be properly instructed or even to fulfill the ordinary obligations of their religion. In Cuba, for instance, where a recent report shows that only 25 per cent of the people practice their Catholicism, the archbishop finds that he cannot fill the demands put upon him for the ministrations of priests., In Guatemala, the late difficulties have pointed up the numerical weakness of the clergy. In a nominally Catholic population of over 2,700,000, there are only 153 priests, or one for approximately 18,000 persons.' In other places the disparity is greater. By contrast, United States statistics show one for each thousand Catholics or less. Moreover, the lack of funds for seminaries, schools, and col- leges has resulted in many places in a stagnation, if not complete obliteration, of Catholic intellectual life. The meager total of 1,442 schools in the Caribbean area, with an enrollment of 304,000 pupils in a Catholic population of over 21,000,000, ' The New York Times, July 31, 1953. New World, Chicago, September 20, 1954; "La Voz de los prelados latinoamericanos," Latinoamerica (Mexico, D.F., Jan. 1, 1950), p. 12. ' "Horizon International," Relations, XVI (Montreal, August, 1954), 234-236.  RELIGION 151 RELIGION indicates the effects, among other things, of this restrictive pov- erty.' Failure to provide teachers at the lower levels of society has helped to foster the crude superstitions and the perpetuation of ancient folklore, which mingle with remnants of Catholic teaching in a confusing pattern. The Vodoun of Haiti and the unorthodox practices of the cofradias of Guatemala are glaring examples of this. Caught up in the cycle of poverty in men and resources, the Church has failed to deal with the aberrations which people, poorly instructed in the first instance and left to themselves there- after, have developed over the course of the years. II The church-state relations are often vexing in these countries. Constitutional provisions range from official recognition of Ca- tholicism as the religion of the people (Colombia, Costa Rica, Panama), through prohibition of subsidies (Cuba, Honduras), to the denial of juridical and corporate rights (Mexico, Guate- mala). In the latter case, church properties are owned by the state and the Catholic Church has no legal existence.' Restrictions are often extended to education, as in Mexico, where state instruction must be secular, that is, divorced from any religious significance, and where religious orders are forbidden to give instruction at lower levels. Guatemala and Nicaragua have restricted the right to issue teaching certificates and the granting of degrees to state institutions, and all claim primacy in the ordering of educational objectives.' Cuba, for instance, has 187 Catholic schools with a student population of approximately fifty thousand; none of these institutions is legally recognized.' Not until four years ago did a Catholic university receive the right to grant degrees in Cuba. Ibid. * Amos J. Peaslee, Constitutions of Nations (Concord, N. H., 1950), passim. "Constitution of Guatemala, Art. 81," Peaslee, II, 84; "Constitution of Nicaragua, Art. 87." ibid. II, 644. "Horizon International," lec. cit. indicates the effects, among other things, of this restrictive pov- erty.' Failure to provide teachers at the lower levels of society has helped to foster the crude superstitions and the perpetuation of ancient folklore, which mingle with remnants of Catholic teaching in a confusing pattern. The Vodoun of Haiti and the unorthodox practices of the cofradias of Guatemala are glaring examples of this. Caught up in the cycle of poverty in men and resources, the Church has failed to deal with the aberrations which people, poorly instructed in the first instance and left to themselves there- after, have developed over the course of the years. II The church-state relations are often vexing in these countries. Constitutional provisions range from official recognition of Ca- tholicism as the religion of the people (Colombia, Costa Rica, Panama), through prohibition of subsidies (Cuba, Honduras), to the denial of juridical and corporate rights (Mexico, Guate- mala). In the latter case, church properties are owned by the state and the Catholic Church has no legal existence.' Restrictions are often extended to education, as in Mexico, where state instruction must be secular, that is, divorced from any religious significance, and where religious orders are forbidden to give instruction at lower levels. Guatemala and Nicaragua have restricted the right to issue teaching certificates and the granting of degrees to state institutions, and all claim primacy in the ordering of educational objectives.' Cuba, for instance, has 187 Catholic schools with a student population of approximately fifty thousand; none of these institutions is legally recognized.' Not until four years ago did a Catholic university receive the right to grant degrees in Cuba. Ibid. * Amos J. Peaslee, Constitutions of Nations (Concord, N. H., 1950), passim. ' "Constitution of Guatemala, Art. 81," Peaslee, II, 84; "Constitution of Nicaragua, Art. 87." ibid. II, 644. " "Horizon International," loc. cit. RELIGION 151 indicates the effects, among other things, of this restrictive pov- erty.' Failure to provide teachers at the lower levels of society has helped to foster the crude superstitions and the perpetuation of ancient folklore, which mingle with remnants of Catholic teaching in a confusing pattern. The Vodoun of Haiti and the unorthodox practices of the cofradias of Guatemala are glaring examples of this. Caught up in the cycle of poverty in men and resources, the Church has failed to deal with the aberrations which people, poorly instructed in the first instance and left to themselves there- after, have developed over the course of the years. II The church-state relations are often vexing in these countries. Constitutional provisions range from official recognition of Ca- tholicism as the religion of the people (Colombia, Costa Rica, Panama), through prohibition of subsidies (Cuba, Honduras), to the denial of juridical and corporate rights (Mexico, Guate- mala). In the latter case, church properties are owned by the state and the Catholic Church has no legal existence.' Restrictions are often extended to education, as in Mexico, where state instruction must be secular, that is, divorced from any religious significance, and where religious orders are forbidden to give instruction at lower levels. Guatemala and Nicaragua have restricted the right to issue teaching certificates and the granting of degrees to state institutions, and all claim primacy in the ordering of educational objectives.' Cuba, for instance, has 187 Catholic schools with a student population of approximately fifty thousand; none of these institutions is legally recognized.' Not until four years ago did a Catholic university receive the right to grant degrees in Cuba. Ibid. * Amos J. Peaslee, Constitutions of Nations (Concord, N. H., 1950), passim. ' "Constitution of Guatemala, Art. 81," Peaslee, II, 84; "Constitution of Nicaragua, Art. 87." ibid. II, 644. " "Horizon International," loc. cit.  152 The Caribbean It must be said, however, that the legal obstacles to a free private educational system found in the charters is proving to be less of an obstacle today than formerly. There has been a quiet extralegal development of Catholic schools, in some instances with the connivance of the authorities. In this manner, church schools have been founded in many places and are flourishing with public approval. In partial explanation, it may be said that the state monopoly in education has not made the expected head- way, either in the number of schools or in their quality, since its control over education was established about the middle of the last century. A glance at the current illiteracy figures in any of these countries is convincing proof of the failure to provide anything like an adequate system of general education. Moreover, the highly charged political character of many state universities seems evidence of distorted objectives. Nevertheless, the gen- eral pattern of statism in these countries makes the successful growth of an independent school system a very tenuous and uncertain affair. Directly related, it seems, to the feebleness of Catholic schools as a medium for mass education is the rather large-scale failure to obey the precepts and moral teaching of the Church. It is true that Mexican marriage laws recognize only a civil ceremony, which might be a deterrent to those who would otherwise ap- proach their pastors. Nevertheless, the 1950 census reveals that of 7,000,000 couples some 1,795,000 went through no official ceremony of any kind, and only 1,427,000 were married in church. Yet all but 500,000 of the population professed them- selves to be Catholics.' The failure of large numbers to attend to the ordinary requirements of their religion has already been noted. These figures do not tell the whole story, and one can find countless exceptions among all classes of society. Yet the over-all impression to the outsider is that of a generally relaxed Catholicism. * The New York Times, July 31, 1953. 152 The Caribbean 152 The Caribbean It must be said, however, that the legal obstacles to a free private educational system found in the charters is proving to be less of an obstacle today than formerly. There has been a quiet extralegal development of Catholic schools, in some instances with the connivance of the authorities. In this manner, church schools have been founded in many places and are flourishing with public approval. In partial explanation, it may be said that the state monopoly in education has not made the expected head- way, either in the number of schools or in their quality, since its control over education was established about the middle of the last century. A glance at the current illiteracy figures in any of these countries is convincing proof of the failure to provide anything like an adequate system of general education. Moreover, the highly charged political character of many state universities seems evidence of distorted objectives. Nevertheless, the gen- eral pattern of statism in these countries makes the successful growth of an independent school system a very tenuous and uncertain affair. Directly related, it seems, to the feebleness of Catholic schools as a medium for mass education is the rather large-scale failure to obey the precepts and moral teaching of the Church. It is true that Mexican marriage laws recognize only a civil ceremony, which might be a deterrent to those who would otherwise ap- proach their pastors. Nevertheless, the 1950 census reveals that of 7,000,000 couples some 1,795,000 went through no official ceremony of any kind, and only 1,427,000 were married in church. Yet all but 500,000 of the population professed them- selves to be Catholics.' The failure of large numbers to attend to the ordinary requirements of their religion has already been noted. These figures do not tell the whole story, and one can find countless exceptions among all classes of society. Yet the over-all impression to the outsider is that of a generally relaxed Catholicism. The New York Tines, July 31, 1953. It must be said, however, that the legal obstacles to a free private educational system found in the charters is proving to be less of an obstacle today than formerly. There has been a quiet extralegal development of Catholic schools, in some instances with the connivance of the authorities. In this manner, church schools have been founded in many places and are flourishing with public approval. In partial explanation, it may be said that the state monopoly in education has not made the expected head- way, either in the number of schools or in their quality, since its control over education was established about the middle of the last century. A glance at the current illiteracy figures in any of these countries is convincing proof of the failure to provide anything like an adequate system of general education. Moreover, the highly charged political character of many state universities seems evidence of distorted objectives. Nevertheless, the gen- eral pattern of statism in these countries makes the successful growth of an independent school system a very tenuous and uncertain affair. Directly related, it seems, to the feebleness of Catholic schools as a medium for mass education is the rather large-scale failure to obey the precepts and moral teaching of the Church. It is true that Mexican marriage laws recognize only a civil ceremony, which might be a deterrent to those who would otherwise ap- proach their pastors. Nevertheless, the 1950 census reveals that of 7,000,000 couples some 1,795,000 went through no official ceremony of any kind, and only 1,427,000 were married in church. Yet all but 500,000 of the population professed them- selves to be Catholics.' The failure of large numbers to attend to the ordinary requirements of their religion has already been noted. These figures do not tell the whole story, and one can find countless exceptions among all classes of society. Yet the over-all impression to the outsider is that of a generally relaxed Catholicism. The New York Times, July 31, 1953.  RELIGION 153 RELIGION 153 RELIGION III While disregard or indifference to the Church's teaching is widespread, she has also been the object of a vigorous frontal at- tack. Liberal capitalism, positivism, collectivism, and neo-Marx- ism, each at different times, have won the favor of ruling classes or parties. These in turn have left the imprint of their ideas upon the laws and basic charters. In striving to make over the pattern of society, each has used the state as the instrument of change. The clergy and Catholic parties, during their interludes of control, have attempted at times to operate through the same medium, and bitter political conflicts have resulted. The result has been the growth and proliferation of the bureaucracy into every conceivable phase of activity. In its operation, the state not only becomes impatient of opposition but often claims exclusive jurisdiction. The attempt of any organization, but especially the Catholic Church, to encroach upon these prerogatives either through teaching or organization has led to quick reprisals. The victory, for the most part, has gone to the opposition, and the Church's role in education and public welfare has now long been restricted. As a result, her opportunities for moral and spiritual guidance have been curtailed; she is forced to operate, as we have seen, in what is often an alien and even hostile political atmosphere. Under the guise of "neutralism," the new govern- ment in Guatemala, for example, has reportedly refused to restore the Church's legal status or return her property confiscated in the 1870's. The Guatemalan constitution still carries a prohibi- tion against churchmen participating in the labor movement." These are the points of weakness in the Church, which give a strong semblance of failure to its work in the Caribbean. Yet, paradoxically, in the eyes of its enemies the Church is strong. The most significant tribute to that strength is the manner of treatment accorded by friend or foe. Ambitious politicos find * Art. 29; now in process of revision. III While disregard or indifference to the Church's teaching is widespread, she has also been the object of a vigorous frontal at- tack. Liberal capitalism, positivism, collectivism, and neo-Marx- ism, each at different times, have won the favor of ruling classes or parties. These in turn have left the imprint of their ideas upon the laws and basic charters. In striving to make over the pattern of society, each has used the state as the instrument of change. The clergy and Catholic parties, during their interludes of control, have attempted at times to operate through the same medium, and bitter political conflicts have resulted. The result has been the growth and proliferation of the bureaucracy into every conceivable phase of activity. In its operation, the state not only becomes impatient of opposition but often claims exclusive jurisdiction. The attempt of any organization, but especially the Catholic Church, to encroach upon these prerogatives either through teaching or organization has led to quick reprisals. The victory, for the most part, has gone to the opposition, and the Church's role in education and public welfare has now long been restricted. As a result, her opportunities for moral and spiritual guidance have been curtailed; she is forced to operate, as we have seen, in what is often an alien and even hostile political atmosphere. Under the guise of "neutralism," the new govern- ment in Guatemala, for example, has reportedly refused to restore the Church's legal status or return her property confiscated in the 1870's. The Guatemalan constitution still carries a prohibi- tion against churchmen participating in the labor movement.' These are the points of weakness in the Church, which give a strong semblance of failure to its work in the Caribbean. Yet, paradoxically, in the eyes of its enemies the Church is strong. The most significant tribute to that strength is the manner of treatment accorded by friend or foe. Ambitious politicos find '* Art. 29; now in process of revision. III While disregard or indifference to the Church's teaching is widespread, she has also been the object of a vigorous frontal at- tack. Liberal capitalism, positivism, collectivism, and neo-Marx- ism, each at different times, have won the favor of ruling classes or parties. These in turn have left the imprint of their ideas upon the laws and basic charters. In striving to make over the pattern of society, each has used the state as the instrument of change. The clergy and Catholic parties, during their interludes of control, have attempted at times to operate through the same medium, and bitter political conflicts have resulted. The result has been the growth and proliferation of the bureaucracy into every conceivable phase of activity. In its operation, the state not only becomes impatient of opposition but often claims exclusive jurisdiction. The attempt of any organization, but especially the Catholic Church, to encroach upon these prerogatives either through teaching or organization has led to quick reprisals. The victory, for the most part, has gone to the opposition, and the Church's role in education and public welfare has now long been restricted. As a result, her opportunities for moral and spiritual guidance have been curtailed; she is forced to operate, as we have seen, in what is often an alien and even hostile political atmosphere. Under the guise of "neutralism," the new govern- ment in Guatemala, for example, has reportedly refused to restore the Church's legal status or return her property confiscated in the 1870's. The Guatemalan constitution still carries a prohibi- tion against churchmen participating in the labor movement." These are the points of weakness in the Church, which give a strong semblance of failure to its work in the Caribbean. Yet, paradoxically, in the eyes of its enemies the Church is strong. The most significant tribute to that strength is the manner of treatment accorded by friend or foe. Ambitious politicos find  154 The Caribbean that there is no such possibility open to them as ignoring the Church. It must be considered in any program of the state and may by its attitude be a decisive factor in the success or failure of the program. At every level it has colored the pattern of society and left a mark on everything from politics and labor to architec- ture and folklore, from the orthodox practices of the sacramental life to the confused limits of popular cults of preternatural mani- festation or supposed miracles. Its hand is felt in hospitals, schools, pious associations, and confraternities. It can withstand persecution well, as shown in Mexico where, after years of con- certed effort to root it out, it now appears substantially undimin- ished in numbers or spirit. IV But if these influences may be dismissed as sterile traditions or remnants of the past, there seems to be a more vigorous life developing. Small but well-trained groups of Catholic intellectuals, both clergy and laity, have made frank assessments of the problem of their society and of their own deficiency in meeting them. Having settled on objectives, they show no disposition to be con- tent with merely holding the line; they are willing to take bold steps and personal risks to make their program effective. The Mexican Catholic journal, Latinoamerica, says editorially, "We live in a world of artifice created by wealth without check, by industry without control, by spoliation and contempt for human rights. Latin America . . . is for the most part a world of aban- doned masses; in few places of the globe are the social inequalities so apparent. Nowhere perhaps in the world is there an area that requires more attention and careful study.... To orientate these masses, to approach them, to listen to their problems and pre- sent concrete solutions, that is our mission...." In this connection, the program of the Federation of Catholic Youth of Cuba recently received attention in the press. The " (September 1, 1954), 389-391. 154 The Caribbean 154 The Caribbean that there is no such possibility open to them as ignoring the Church. It must be considered in any program of the state and may by its attitude be a decisive factor in the success or failure of the program. At every level it has colored the pattern of society and left a mark on everything from politics and labor to architec- ture and folklore, from the orthodox practices of the sacramental life to the confused limits of popular cults of preternatural mani- festation or supposed miracles. Its hand is felt in hospitals, schools, pious associations, and confraternities. It can withstand persecution well, as shown in Mexico where, after years of con- certed effort to root it out, it now appears substantially undimin- ished in numbers or spirit. IV But if these influences may be dismissed as sterile traditions or remnants of the past, there seems to be a more vigorous life developing. Small but well-trained groups of Catholic intellectuals, both clergy and laity, have made frank assessments of the problem of their society and of their own deficiency in meeting them. Having settled on objectives, they show no disposition to be con- tent with merely holding the line; they are willing to take bold steps and personal risks to make their program effective. The Mexican Catholic journal, Latinoamerica, says editorially, "We live in a world of artifice created by wealth without check, by industry without control, by spoliation and contempt for human rights. Latin America . .. is for the most part a world of aban- doned masses; in few places of the globe are the social inequalities so apparent. Nowhere perhaps in the world is there an area that requires more attention and careful study.... To orientate these masses, to approach them, to listen to their problems and pre- sent concrete solutions, that is our mission.... In this connection, the program of the Federation of Catholic Youth of Cuba recently received attention in the press. The " (September 1, 1954), 389-391. that there is no such possibility open to them as ignoring the Church. It must be considered in any program of the state and may by its attitude be a decisive factor in the success or failure of the program. At every level it has colored the pattern of society and left a mark on everything from politics and labor to architec- ture and folklore, from the orthodox practices of the sacramental life to the confused limits of popular cults of preternatural mani- festation or supposed miracles. Its hand is felt in hospitals, schools, pious associations, and confraternities. It can withstand persecution well, as shown in Mexico where, after years of con- certed effort to root it out, it now appears substantially undimin- ished in numbers or spirit. IV But if these influences may be dismissed as sterile traditions or remnants of the past, there seems to be a more vigorous life developing. Small but well-trained groups of Catholic intellectuals, both clergy and laity, have made frank assessments of the problem of their society and of their own deficiency in meeting them. Having settled on objectives, they show no disposition to be con- tent with merely holding the line; they are willing to take bold steps and personal risks to make their program effective. The Mexican Catholic journal, Latinoamerica, says editorially, "We live in a world of artifice created by wealth without check, by industry without control, by spoliation and contempt for human rights. Latin America . . . is for the most part a world of aban- doned masses; in few places of the globe are the social inequalities so apparent. Nowhere perhaps in the world is there an area that requires more attention and careful study.... To orientate these masses, to approach them, to listen to their problems and pre- sent concrete solutions, that is our mission.... In this connection, the program of the Federation of Catholic Youth of Cuba recently received attention in the press. The " (September t, 1954), 389-391.  RELIGION 155 RELIGION 155 RELIGION 155 organization has groups operating in the parishes, among the workers, in the colegios and secondary schools, and in the national university. The group frankly affirms that Cuba has lost itself in materialism. The traditional liberal capitalism is charged with responsibility for the social evils for which communism currently offers a violent antidote. Moreover, the breakdown of family life and the religious and moral neutralism of the school system have left a void in the teaching of Catholic moral values. These values have an application not merely to the individual but to his society. Stressing the need of balance between individual liberty and col- lective security, the group would relieve the degradation of the Cuban masses by making operative Catholic principles of social justice. To this end they are working for a revision of Cuban education to direct it away from more technical specialization toward a humanistic and integrated preparation for leadership based on these principles." V A few months ago, a Cuban Jesuit, Father Manuel Foyaca, came straight to the point in a newspaper debate with the director of the association of Cuban sugar growers. When that association recommended a cut in the already submarginal wages of the Cuban sugar workers, Father Foyaca reminded the members of the social obligations of property ownership and the moral necessity of pay- ing a living wage. He ended with a warning: "Remember, sir, that if the liberal-capitalist economy does not discover formulas for settling these questions, it will have to give way to a Christian economy, or if not, if that is preferred, to communism ...."" It is most encouraging to notice the growth of Catholic thinking and organization in the labor movement. In Colombia 500 unions are joined in the Union of Colombian Workers with a membership of over 200,000. The organization began ten years ago as an " Diario de la Marina, September 4, 1953. " Ibid., November 19, 1953. organization has groups operating in the parishes, among the workers, in the colegios and secondary schools, and in the national university. The group frankly affirms that Cuba has lost itself in materialism. The traditional liberal capitalism is charged with responsibility for the social evils for which communism currently offers a violent antidote. Moreover, the breakdown of family life and the religious and moral neutralism of the school system have left a void in the teaching of Catholic moral values. These values have an application not merely to the individual but to his society. Stressing the need of balance between individual liberty and col- lective security, the group would relieve the degradation of the Cuban masses by making operative Catholic principles of social justice. To this end they are working for a revision of Cuban education to direct it away from more technical specialization toward a humanistic and integrated preparation for leadership based on these principles." V A few months ago, a Cuban Jesuit, Father Manuel Foyaca, came straight to the point in a newspaper debate with the director of the association of Cuban sugar growers. When that association recommended a cut in the already submarginal wages of the Cuban sugar workers, Father Foyaca reminded the members of the social obligations of property ownership and the moral necessity of pay- ing a living wage. He ended with a warning: "Remember, sir, that if the liberal-capitalist economy does not discover formulas for settling these questions, it will have to give way to a Christian economy, or if not, if that is preferred, to communism ...."13 It is most encouraging to notice the growth of Catholic thinking and organization in the labor movement. In Colombia 500 unions are joined in the Union of Colombian Workers with a membership of over 200,000. The organization began ten years ago as an " Diario de la Marina, September 4, 1953. " Ibid., November 19, 1953. organization has groups operating in the parishes, among the workers, in the colegios and secondary schools, and in the national university. The group frankly affirms that Cuba has lost itself in materialism. The traditional liberal capitalism is charged with responsibility for the social evils for which communism currently offers a violent antidote. Moreover, the breakdown of family life and the religious and moral neutralism of the school system have left a void in the teaching of Catholic moral values. These values have an application not merely to the individual but to his society. Stressing the need of balance between individual liberty and col- lective security, the group would relieve the degradation of the Cuban masses by making operative Catholic principles of social justice. To this end they are working for a revision of Cuban education to direct it away from more technical specialization toward a humanistic and integrated preparation for leadership based on these principles." V A few months ago, a Cuban Jesuit, Father Manuel Foyaca, came straight to the point in a newspaper debate with the director of the association of Cuban sugar growers. When that association recommended a cut in the already submarginal wages of the Cuban sugar workers, Father Foyaca reminded the members of the social obligations of property ownership and the moral necessity of pay- ing a living wage. He ended with a warning: "Remember, sir, that if the liberal-capitalist economy does not discover formulas for settling these questions, it will have to give way to a Christian economy, or if not, if that is preferred, to communism ...."" It is most encouraging to notice the growth of Catholic thinking and organization in the labor movement. In Colombia 500 unions are joined in the Union of Colombian Workers with a membership of over 200,000. The organization began ten years ago as an Diario de ta Marina, September 4, 1953. " Ibid., November 19, 1953.  156 The Caribbean answer to anarchosyndicalism and communist influence in the National Confederation of Labor. It promises to be a decisive factor in the development of a responsible labor movement in that country." Better known, perhaps, is the Rerom Novarum of Costa Rica. Inspired by Bishop Sanabria and organized by Father Benjamin Ndnez, graduate of Catholic University in Washington, it has risen to prominence in the unionism of that country. With its program based on papal social teaching, it has shouldered the burden of forestalling a once rapid growth of communist influence there. The old conservatism does hang on, fighting bitterly to regain its former status. In Guatemala there has been reported a vigorous scramble for power among the groups supporting the victorious government of President Castillo Armas. Among them were some who would like to turn the clock back to the days of the dictator Ubico, whose rule was the incubus of much of the current dif- ficulty. The strongest warning against such a possibility came from the Archbishop of Guatemala, Rossell y Arellano, already outspoken against the communist infiltration. "In this hour of re- joicing," he said, "we must not forget that of the seven-headed hydra of Communism we have cut off only one, and even this one can grow again, if we do not improve the economic con- dition of the worker and the farmer. You have not put the Com- munists out of Guatemala in order to evade the rights of the workers, nor much less to deprive them of the natural right that they have to the land which they till, nor to deprive them of their just social gains, . . . but, on the contrary, to destroy Communism the decisive battle has yet to be fought in Guatemala, the battle for social and distributive justice."" " "El sindicalismo confesional en Colombia," Estudios Americanos, VIII (Sevilla, 1954), 76-77. 1 "El arzobispo de Guatemala senala el nuevo derrotero," Latinoamderica (October 1, 1954), pp. 460-461. 156 The Caribbean 156 The Caribbean answer to anarchosyndicalism and communist influence in the National Confederation of Labor. It promises to be a decisive factor in the development of a responsible labor movement in that country." Better known, perhaps, is the Rerum Novarum of Costa Rica. Inspired by Bishop Sanabria and organized by Father Benjamin Ndnez, graduate of Catholic University in Washington, it has risen to prominence in the unionism of that country. With its program based on papal social teaching, it has shouldered the burden of forestalling a once rapid growth of communist influence there. The old conservatism does hang on, fighting bitterly to regain its former status. In Guatemala there has been reported a vigorous scramble for power among the groups supporting the victorious government of President Castillo Armas. Among them were some who would like to turn the clock back to the days of the dictator Ubico, whose rule was the incubus of much of the current dif- ficulty. The strongest warning against such a possibility came from the Archbishop of Guatemala, Russell y Arellano, already outspoken against the communist infiltration. "In this hour of re- joicing," he said, "we must not forget that of the seven-headed hydra of Communism we have cut off only one, and even this one can grow again, if we do not improve the economic con- dition of the worker and the farmer. You have not put the Com- munists out of Guatemala in order to evade the rights of the workers, nor much less to deprive them of the natural right that they have to the land which they till, nor to deprive them of their just social gains, . . . but, on the contrary, to destroy Communism the decisive battle has yet to be fought in Guatemala, the battle for social and distributive justice."" " "El sindicalismo confesional en Colombia," Estudios Americanos, VIII (Sevilla, 1954), 76-77. " "El arzobispo de Guatemala senala el nuevo derrotero," Latinoamdrica (October 1, 1954), pp. 460-461. answer to anarchosyndicalism and communist influence in the National Confederation of Labor. It promises to be a decisive factor in the development of a responsible labor movement in that country." Better known, perhaps, is the Rerum Novarum of Costa Rica. Inspired by Bishop Sanabria and organized by Father Benjamin Ndnez, graduate of Catholic University in Washington, it has risen to prominence in the unionism of that country. With its program based on papal social teaching, it has shouldered the burden of forestalling a once rapid growth of communist influence there. The old conservatism does hang on, fighting bitterly to regain its former status. In Guatemala there has been reported a vigorous scramble for power among the groups supporting the victorious government of President Castillo Armas. Among them were some who would like to turn the clock back to the days of the dictator Ubico, whose rule was the incubus of much of the current dif- ficulty. The strongest warning against such a possibility came from the Archbishop of Guatemala, Rossell y Arellano, already outspoken against the communist infiltration. "In this hour of re- joicing," he said, "we must not forget that of the seven-headed hydra of Communism we have cut off only one, and even this one can grow again, if we do not improve the economic con- dition of the worker and the farmer. You have not put the Com- munists out of Guatemala in order to evade the rights of the workers, nor much less to deprive them of the natural right that they have to the land which they till, nor to deprive them of their just social gains, . . . but, on the contrary, to destroy Communism the decisive battle has yet to be fought in Guatemala, the battle for social and distributive justice."" "El sindicalismo confesional en Colombia," Estudios Americanos, VIII (Sevilla, 1954), 76-77. 1 "El arzobispo de Guatemala seiala el nuevo derroter," Latinoamerica (October 1, 1954), pp. 460-461.  RELIGION 157 RELIGION 157 RELIGION VI The land problem is a prominent feature of the new Catholic thought and writing. Pope Pius XI was not alone in condemning a system of agriculture in which "millions of human beings frequently live in a condition so sad and miserable that they do not enjoy the essentials for preserving human dignity," who are untouched by industrial progress or modern mechanical methods, and who are virtual serfs living on vast corporate or family estates, whose owners have little concept of their re- sponsibilities. The emphasis on social norms and the relationship of man to the community is the major concern of this school of Catholic thinking. The program is not new. Its elements can be found in the centuries-old program of the church in the New World defense of the Indian, the poor, and the helpless against their oppressors. The establishment of the basic juridical rights of the native, the prohibition of Indian slavery, and the legal pro- tection of his property and his labor form a heritage-these are the special achievement of the Catholic Church's social teaching since the days of Columbus. Its renewed vigor is a hopeful por- tent and must be given prominence in any appraisal of Catholic life in the Caribbean. VI The land problem is a prominent feature of the new Catholic thought and writing. Pope Pius XI was not alone in condemning a system of agriculture in which "millions of human beings frequently live in a condition so sad and miserable that they do not enjoy the essentials for preserving human dignity," who are untouched by industrial progress or modern mechanical methods, and who are virtual serfs living on vast corporate or family estates, whose owners have little concept of their re- sponsibilities. The emphasis on social norms and the relationship of man to the community is the major concern of this school of Catholic thinking. The program is not new. Its elements can be found in the centuries-old program of the church in the New World defense of the Indian, the poor, and the helpless against their oppressors. The establishment of the basic juridical rights of the native, the prohibition of Indian slavery, and the legal pro- tection of his property and his labor form a heritage-these are the special achievement of the Catholic Church's social teaching since the days of Columbus. Its renewed vigor is a hopeful por- tent and must be given prominence in any appraisal of Catholic life in the Caribbean. VI The land problem is a prominent feature of the new Catholic thought and writing. Pope Pius XI was not alone in condemning a system of agriculture in which "millions of human beings frequently live in a condition so sad and miserable that they do not enjoy the essentials for preserving human dignity," who are untouched by industrial progress or modern mechanical methods, and who are virtual serfs living on vast corporate or family estates, whose owners have little concept of their re- sponsibilities. The emphasis on social norms and the relationship of man to the community is the major concern of this school of Catholic thinking. The program is not new. Its elements can be found in the centuries-old program of the church in the New World defense of the Indian, the poor, and the helpless against their oppressors. The establishment of the basic juridical rights of the native, the prohibition of Indian slavery, and the legal pro- tection of his property and his labor form a heritage-these are the special achievement of the Catholic Church's social teaching since the days of Columbus. Its renewed vigor is a hopeful por- tent and must be given prominence in any appraisal of Catholic life in the Caribbean.  W. Stanley Rycroft: THE CONTRIBUTION OF PROTESTANTISM IN THE CARIBBEAN IN THE CHOOSING OF THE TITLE of this paper, the word Protestantism was used deliberately. Protestantism is essentially a movement rather than an ecclesiastical organization or a set of dogmas, and it involves, or is directed toward, the complete renovation of man's life. It is a spirit of creativity in individual and social life, an attitude toward life, a social dynamic which impinges on, and affects, the spiritual, moral, physical, and social aspects of human existence. The countries under discussion-namely Mexico, the six Cen- tral American republics, Colombia, Venezuela, Cuba, Haiti, Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, and the European possessions -present a diversity of historical background, race, culture, language, political status, and social and economic development, which cannot be matched elsewhere in the world. This diversity makes it difficult, within the limits of this paper, to do more than generalize with a few chosen examples from various countries. Protestantism in the Caribbean is relatively young; only in the European possessions is it more than a hundred years old. The first Protestant missionary arrived in Colombia in 1856 in re- sponse to a request which came to the Presbyterian Board of 13 W. Stanley Rycroft: THE CONTRIBUTION OF PROTESTANTISM IN THE CARIBBEAN IN THE CHOOSING OF THE TITLE of this paper, the word Protestantism was used deliberately. Protestantism is essentially a movement rather than an ecclesiastical organization or a set of dogmas, and it involves, or is directed toward, the complete renovation of man's life. It is a spirit of creativity in individual and social life, an attitude toward life, a social dynamic which impinges on, and affects, the spiritual, moral, physical, and social aspects of human existence. The countries under discussion-namely Mexico, the six Cen- tral American republics, Colombia, Venezuela, Cuba, Haiti, Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, and the European possessions -present a diversity of historical background, race, culture, language, political status, and social and economic development, which cannot be matched elsewhere in the world. This diversity makes it difficult, within the limits of this paper, to do more than generalize with a few chosen examples from various countries. Protestantism in the Caribbean is relatively young; only in the European possessions is it more than a hundred years old. The first Protestant missionary arrived in Colombia in 1856 in re- sponse to a request which came to the Presbyterian Board of 158 W. Stanley Rycroft: THE CONTRIBUTION OF PROTESTANTISM IN THE CARIBBEAN IN THE CHOOSING OF THE TITLE of this paper, the word Protestantism was used deliberately. Protestantism is essentially a movement rather than an ecclesiastical organization or a set of dogmas, and it involves, or is directed toward, the complete renovation of man's life. It is a spirit of creativity in individual and social life, an attitude toward life, a social dynamic which impinges on, and affects, the spiritual, moral, physical, and social aspects of human existence. The countries under discussion-namely Mexico, the six Cen- tral American republics, Colombia, Venezuela, Cuba, Haiti, Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, and the European possessions -present a diversity of historical background, race, culture, language, political status, and social and economic development, which cannot be matched elsewhere in the world. This diversity makes it difficult, within the limits of this paper, to do more than generalize with a few chosen examples from various countries. Protestantism in the Caribbean is relatively young; only in the European possessions is it more than a hundred years old. The first Protestant missionary arrived in Colombia in 1856 in re- sponse to a request which came to the Presbyterian Board of 158  RELIGION 159 RELIGION Foreign Missions from a group of Colombians, for whom Colonel Fraser, a British officer who fought for independence under Bolivar, was the spokesman. He later married a niece of the first president of Colombia, and became a cabinet minister. The first Protestants who entered Mexico were chaplains ac- companying the United States troops in 1846. The Constitution of 1857 encouraged religious toleration and Benito Judrez stated that Protestantism was good for the republic; it was the religion of the Book, and it taught men to read. The first missionary ar- rived in 1865. Protestant work began in Guatemala in 1882, when President Rufino Barrios invited the Presbyterian Board to send missionaries to his country and offered to pay the expenses of the first one. Protestantism was introduced into Cuba and Puerto Rico after the Spanish-American War of 1898. In Haiti it is more than a hundred years old, but the greatest development has taken place in the last thirty years. In the European possessions, where the movement is older than in the republics, the missionaries came largely from Europe, though in recent years a few mission boards from the United States and Canada have established work in British Guiana, Trinidad, and Jamaica principally. Numerically speaking, the greatest development in Protestant- ism in most of these areas has taken place during the past thirty years. In the twenty-seven years between 1925 and 1952, the number of Protestants in some of the countries was as follows: 1925 1952 INCREASE British Lesser Antilles 134,420 343,946 2% times Trinidad 113,839 318,247 3 times Guatemala 11,117 75,845 6% times Jamaica 128,783 915,726 7 times Cuba 15,942 165,622 10% times Mexico 31,138 334,756 11 times Puerto Rico 12,280 137,185 11 times Haiti 12,198 259,523 21 times Venezuela 400 13,775 34% times Foreign Missions from a group of Colombians, for whom Colonel Fraser, a British officer who fought for independence under Bolivar, was the spokesman. He later married a niece of the first president of Colombia, and became a cabinet minister. The first Protestants who entered Mexico were chaplains ac- companying the United States troops in 1846. The Constitution of 1857 encouraged religious toleration and Benito Judrez stated that Protestantism was good for the republic; it was the religion of the Book, and it taught men to read. The first missionary ar- rived in 1865. Protestant work began in Guatemala in 1882, when President Rufino Barrios invited the Presbyterian Board to send missionaries to his country and offered to pay the expenses of the first one. Protestantism was introduced into Cuba and Puerto Rico after the Spanish-American War of 1898. In Haiti it is more than a hundred years old, but the greatest development has taken place in the last thirty years. In the European possessions, where the movement is older than in the republics, the missionaries came largely from Europe, though in recent years a few mission boards from the United States and Canada have established work in British Guiana, Trinidad, and Jamaica principally. Numerically speaking, the greatest development in Protestant- ism in most of these areas has taken place during the past thirty years. In the twenty-seven years between 1925 and 1952, the number of Protestants in some of the countries was as follows: 1925 1952 INCREASE British Lesser Antilles 134,420 343,946 2% times Trinidad 113,839 318,247 3 times Guatemala 11,117 75,845 6% times Jamaica 128,783 915,726 7 times Cuba 15,942 165,622 10% times Mexico 31,138 334,756 11 times Puerto Rico 12,280 137,185 11 times Haiti 12,198 259,523 21 times Venezuela 400 13,775 34% times RELIGION 159 Foreign Missions from a group of Colombians, for whom Colonel Fraser, a British officer who fought for independence under Bolivar, was the spokesman. He later married a niece of the first president of Colombia, and became a cabinet minister. The first Protestants who entered Mexico were chaplains ac- companying the United States troops in 1846. The Constitution of 1857 encouraged religious toleration and Benito Judrez stated that Protestantism was good for the republic; it was the religion of the Book, and it taught men to read. The first missionary ar- rived in 1865. Protestant work began in Guatemala in 1882, when President Rufino Barrios invited the Presbyterian Board to send missionaries to his country and offered to pay the expenses of the first one. Protestantism was introduced into Cuba and Puerto Rico after the Spanish-American War of 1898. In Haiti it is more than a hundred years old, but the greatest development has taken place in the last thirty years. In the European possessions, where the movement is older than in the republics, the missionaries came largely from Europe, though in recent years a few mission boards from the United States and Canada have established work in British Guiana, Trinidad, and Jamaica principally. Numerically speaking, the greatest development in Protestant- ism in most of these areas has taken place during the past thirty years. In the twenty-seven years between 1925 and 1952, the number of Protestants in some of the countries was as follows: 1925 1952 INCREASE British Lesser Antilles 134,420 343,946 2% times Trinidad 113,839 318,247 3 times Guatemala 11,117 75,845 6% times Jamaica 128,783 915,726 7 times Cuba 15,942 165,622 10% times Mexico 31,138 334,756 11 times Puerto Rico 12,280 137,185 11 times Haiti 12,198 259,523 21 times Venezuela 400 13,775 34% times  160 The Caribbean 160 The Caribbean A striking fact in three countries, namely Cuba, the Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico, is that in fifty years or so the Protes- tant movement has become practically indigenous, in the sense that the ordained ministers, with very few exceptions, are na- tional rather than foreign, though some financial aid comes from the United States. In Cuba and Puerto Rico, Protestantism has developed more and probably has greater influence on the life and culture of the people than in any comparable areas. In the Dominican Republic, the largest Protestant work is the nondenominational Evangelical Church of the Dominican Republic, which was begun by and is still aided by the Board for Christian Work in Santo Domingo, in which three mission boards cooperate. In all the Caribbean countries during recent decades, there has been an increase in the number of churches, Sunday schools, young people's societies, literacy programs, literature production and distribution, social work, and radio broadcasting. In Mexico, the Methodist, Episcopalian, Presbyterian, and Baptist churches are strong autonomous bodies, independent of any control from the United States and with their own ministers and organizations. II We now turn to contributions of Protestantism in the Caribbean. The first one which we wish to dwell upon is the broad, over-all subject of political life and thought and the foundations of demo- cracy. In a recent article on "The Two Americas," Dr. Alberto Lleras Camargo, until a few months ago secretary-general of the Organization of American States, says: "Latin America was in the past, and continues to be, the product of the systematic official transplantation in the sixteenth century of the cultural and poli- tical forms of Spain and Portugal." These countries, he goes on to say-and especially Spain-had the "hardest and most inflex- ible form of government, the most authoritarian and centralized type, because it was the product of a 600-year religious war of A striking fact in three countries, namely Cuba, the Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico, is that in fifty years or so the Protes- tant movement has become practically indigenous, in the sense that the ordained ministers, with very few exceptions, are na- tional rather than foreign, though some financial aid comes from the United States. In Cuba and Puerto Rico, Protestantism has developed more and probably has greater influence on the life and culture of the people than in any comparable areas. In the Dominican Republic, the largest Protestant work is the nondenominational Evangelical Church of the Dominican Republic, which was begun by and is still aided by the Board for Christian Work in Santo Domingo, in which three mission boards cooperate. In all the Caribbean countries during recent decades, there has been an increase in the number of churches, Sunday schools, young people's societies, literacy programs, literature production and distribution, social work, and radio broadcasting. In Mexico, the Methodist, Episcopalian, Presbyterian, and Baptist churches are strong autonomous bodies, independent of any control from the United States and with their own ministers and organizations. II We now turn to contributions of Protestantism in the Caribbean. The first one which we wish to dwell upon is the broad, over-all subject of political life and thought and the foundations of demo- cracy. In a recent article on "The Two Americas," Dr. Alberto Lleras Camargo, until a few months ago secretary-general of the Organization of American States, says: "Latin America was in the past, and continues to be, the product of the systematic official transplantation in the sixteenth century of the cultural and poli- tical forms of Spain and Portugal." These countries, he goes on to say-and especially Spain-had the "hardest and most inflex- ible form of government, the most authoritarian and centralized type, because it was the product of a 600-year religious war of 160 The Caribbean A striking fact in three countries, namely Cuba, the Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico, is that in fifty years or so the Protes- tant movement has become practically indigenous, in the sense that the ordained ministers, with very few exceptions, are na- tional rather than foreign, though some financial aid comes from the United States. In Cuba and Puerto Rico, Protestantism has developed more and probably has greater influence on the life and culture of the people than in any comparable areas. In the Dominican Republic, the largest Protestant work is the nondenominational Evangelical Church of the Dominican Republic, which was begun by and is still aided by the Board for Christian Work in Santo Domingo, in which three mission boards cooperate. In all the Caribbean countries during recent decades, there has been an increase in the number of churches, Sunday schools, young people's societies, literacy programs, literature production and distribution, social work, and radio broadcasting. In Mexico, the Methodist, Episcopalian, Presbyterian, and Baptist churches are strong autonomous bodies, independent of any control from the United States and with their own ministers and organizations. II We now turn to contributions of Protestantism in the Caribbean. The first one which we wish to dwell upon is the broad, over-all subject of political life and thought and the foundations of demo- cracy. In a recent article on "The Two Americas," Dr. Alberto Lleras Camargo, until a few months ago secretary-general of the Organization of American States, says: "Latin America was in the past, and continues to be, the product of the systematic official transplantation in the sixteenth century of the cultural and poli- tical forms of Spain and Portugal." These countries, he goes on to say-and especially Spain-had the "hardest and most inflex- ible form of government, the most authoritarian and centralized type, because it was the product of a 600-year religious war of  RELIGION 161 independence against the Moors." He then shows how, for histori- cal reasons, "North America was from the first non-conformist, and self government flourished there," whereas in Latin America there was no self-government until after 1810. "Hispanic Amer- ica was monolithic-one language, one religion, one King, one Church bound to the monarch and subservient to him, and one set of laws imported from Spain and Portugal." It is not perhaps widely enough recognized just how Protestant- ism has influenced the political life of the Latin American coun- tries since their independence in the last century. Protestantism has favored the development of democracy and democratic govern- ment in Latin America in two ways: one which we might call over-all, or general, and the other particular, or individual. The former is through the incorporation of certain fundamental prin- ciples of political thought derived from Protestantism, and particu- larly Calvinism; and the latter is through education, the free use of the Bible, and the development of free personalities. An interesting book, La estirpe calvinista de nuestras institu- ciones, by the son of a former president of Colombia, Dr. Lopez Michelson, is a study of the first contribution we have mentioned. The constitutions of most of the Latin American countries con- tain the principle that sovereign power resides in the people, which is a Calvinistic principle. Dr. Lopez describes the Constituent Assembly of Cundinamarca (Colombia) of February, 1811, and shows that while it still recognized Fernando VII as King, it brushed aside the authority of the Pope and the Church, which had been recognized for cen- turies. "By an irony of destiny", says Dr. Lopez, "the most Catho- lic of Constituent Assemblies Colombia has had, introduced the Calvinistic principle in our society. . . . There came into being, then, this first elementary characteristic of our public law, namely, the will of the people as a basis of government, the consent of the citizens as the origin of public power, the people as the dispenser of authority, instead of the Pope and the Church." According to Calvin, political authority comes from the faith- RELIGION 161 independence against the Moors." He then shows how, for histori- cal reasons, "North America was from the first non-conformist, and self government flourished there," whereas in Latin America there was no self-government until after 1810. "Hispanic Amer- ica was monolithic-one language, one religion, one King, one Church bound to the monarch and subservient to him, and one set of laws imported from Spain and Portugal." It is not perhaps widely enough recognized just how Protestant- ism has influenced the political life of the Latin American coun- tries since their independence in the last century. Protestantism has favored the development of democracy and democratic govern- ment in Latin America in two ways: one which we might call over-all, or general, and the other particular, or individual. The former is through the incorporation of certain fundamental prin- ciples of political thought derived from Protestantism, and particu- larly Calvinism; and the latter is through education, the free use of the Bible, and the development of free personalities. An interesting book, La estirpe calvinista de nuestras institu- ciones, by the son of a former president of Colombia, Dr. Lopez Michelson, is a study of the first contribution we have mentioned. The constitutions of most of the Latin American countries con- tain the principle that sovereign power resides in the people, which is a Calvinistic principle. Dr. Lopez describes the Constituent Assembly of Cundinamarca (Colombia) of February, 1811, and shows that while it still recognized Fernando VII as King, it brushed aside the authority of the Pope and the Church, which had been recognized for cen- turies. "By an irony of destiny", says Dr. Lopez, "the most Catho- lic of Constituent Assemblies Colombia has had, introduced the Calvinistic principle in our society. . . . There'came into being, then, this first elementary characteristic of our public law, namely, the will of the people as a basis of government, the consent of the citizens as the origin of public power, the people as the dispenser of authority, instead of the Pope and the Church." According to Calvin, political authority comes from the faith- RELIGION 161 independence against the Moors." He then shows how, for histori- cal reasons, "North America was from the first non-conformist, and self government flourished there," whereas in Latin America there was no self-government until after 1810. "Hispanic Amer- ica was monolithic-one language, one religion, one King, one Church bound to the monarch and subservient to him, and one set of laws imported from Spain and Portugal." It is not perhaps widely enough recognized just how Protestant- ism has influenced the political life of the Latin American coun- tries since their independence in the last century. Protestantism has favored the development of democracy and democratic govern- ment in Latin America in two ways: one which we might call over-all, or general, and the other particular, or individual. The former is through the incorporation of certain fundamental prin- ciples of political thought derived from Protestantism, and particu- larly Calvinism; and the latter is through education, the free use of the Bible, and the development of free personalities. An interesting book, La estirpe calvinista de nuestras institu- ciones, by the son of a former president of Colombia, Dr. Lopez Michelson, is a study of the first contribution we have mentioned. The constitutions of most of the Latin American countries con- tain the principle that sovereign power resides in the people, which is a Calvinistic principle. Dr. LOpez describes the Constituent Assembly of Cundinamarca (Colombia) of February, 1811, and shows that while it still recognized Fernando VII as King, it brushed aside the authority of the Pope and the Church, which had been recognized for cen- turies. "By an irony of destiny", says Dr. Lopez, "the most Catho- lic of Constituent Assemblies Colombia has had, introduced the Calvinistic principle in our society. . . . There came into being, then, this first elementary characteristic of our public law, namely, the will of the people as a basis of government, the consent of the citizens as the origin of public power, the people as the dispenser of authority, instead of the Pope and the Church." According to Calvin, political authority comes from the faith-  162 The Caribbean 162 The Caribbean 162 The Caribbean ful. Furthermore, the concept of representative government, which we have in the United States and in the Latin Ameri- can republics, is of Calvinistic origin. The Presbyterian form of church government, which Calvin discovered in the early Christian Church, became the pattern for political representative government. Moreover, the idea of political parties-unknown in Latin America before independence, and now accepted, though imper- fectly in many cases, by the republics of the Caribbean-is of Calvinistic origin. "The Calvinistic organization of society," says Dr. L6pez, "created the political party system." The idea came from the freedom to examine the Bible and from the religious controversy of the Middle Ages. "The modern political party," says L6pez, "is not only a consequence of the forms of government imposed by Calvinism, but in political life it has the same con- figuration as the Calvinistic or Reformed Churches in their reli- gious life." It is also true that Protestant church life prepares the individual for democratic living and for citizenship in a free society. In that church life, members choose their own leaders and representatives to church assemblies. The rank and file have a voice in all matters from the calling of a pastor to the approval of the church budget. The democratic process in the local church is a school for civic responsibility. The dissemination and free use of the Bible by Protestants is another outstanding contribution to life and culture in the Carib- bean. The Bible in the hands of the people of these lands is not only a source of great spiritual life but also is one of the bases of democracy. As far back as the early part of the nineteenth cen- tury, James Thomson, who came over from England, was able to form a Bible Society in Colombia, the president of which was the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Ten of the twenty members were Colombian Roman Catholic priests. Soon afterward, however, the Vatican issued an order suppressing it and forbidding priests and Roman Catholics belonging to it. ful. Furthermore, the concept of representative government, which we have in the United States and in the Latin Ameri- can republics, is of Calvinistic origin. The Presbyterian form of church government, which Calvin discovered in the early Christian Church, became the pattern for political representative government. Moreover, the idea of political parties-unknown in Latin America before independence, and now accepted, though imper- fectly in many cases, by the republics of the Caribbean-is of Calvinistic origin. "The Calvinistic organization of society," says Dr. L6pez, "created the political party system." The idea came from the freedom to examine the Bible and from the religious controversy of the Middle Ages. "The modern political party," says L6pez, "is not only a consequence of the forms of government imposed by Calvinism, but in political life it has the same con- figuration as the Calvinistic or Reformed Churches in their reli- gious life." It is also true that Protestant church life prepares the individual for democratic living and for citizenship in a free society. In that church life, members choose their own leaders and representatives to church assemblies. The rank and file have a voice in all matters from the calling of a pastor to the approval of the church budget. The democratic process in the local church is a school for civic responsibility. The dissemination and free use of the Bible by Protestants is another outstanding contribution to life and culture in the Carib- bean. The Bible in the hands of the people of these lands is not only a source of great spiritual life but also is one of the bases of democracy. As far back as the early part of the nineteenth cen- tury, James Thomson, who came over from England, was able to form a Bible Society in Colombia, the president of which was the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Ten of the twenty members were Colombian Roman Catholic priests. Soon afterward, however, the Vatican issued an order suppressing it and forbidding priests and Roman Catholics belonging to it. ful. Furthermore, the concept of representative government, which we have in the United States and in the Latin Ameri- can republics, is of Calvinistic origin. The Presbyterian form of church government, which Calvin discovered in the early Christian Church, became the pattern for political representative government. Moreover, the idea of political parties-unknown in Latin America before independence, and now accepted, though imper- fectly in many cases, by the republics of the Caribbean-is of Calvinistic origin. "The Calvinistic organization of society," says Dr. L6pez, "created the political party system." The idea came from the freedom to examine the Bible and from the religious controversy of the Middle Ages. "The modern political party," says L6pez, "is not only a consequence of the forms of government imposed by Calvinism, but in political life it has the same con- figuration as the Calvinistic or Reformed Churches in their reli- gious life." It is also true that Protestant church life prepares the individual for democratic living and for citizenship in a free society. In that church life, members choose their own leaders and representatives to church assemblies. The rank and file have a voice in all matters from the calling of a pastor to the approval of the church budget. The democratic process in the local church is a school for civic responsibility. The dissemination and free use of the Bible by Protestants is another outstanding contribution to life and culture in the Carib- bean. The Bible in the hands of the people of these lands is not only a source of great spiritual life but also is one of the bases of democracy. As far back as the early part of the nineteenth cen- tury, James Thomson, who came over from England, was able to form a Bible Society in Colombia, the president of which was the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Ten of the twenty members were Colombian Roman Catholic priests. Soon afterward, however, the Vatican issued an order suppressing it and forbidding priests and Roman Catholics belonging to it.  RELIGION 163 RELIGION 163 RELIGION 163 Until recently, in Venezuela, the Protestants were the only ones who sold Bibles at a price within reach of the people. A few years ago a monastery in Caracas began selling the Nacar-Colunga ver- sion of the Bible at half price. This translation was made directly from the Greek and Hebrew originals. The Universidad de los Andes in Caracas now sponsor a half-hour radio program called "La Hora de la Biblia." Almost daily, the newspapers in Caracas publish comments on the Bible in their literary columns. In most cases the Biblical texts used are from the Reyna-Valera version rather than the Vulgate. The demand for the Scriptures in Latin America is almost insatiable and the Bible societies are rendering a great service. From its inception Protestantism has stressed education. It is perhaps the most characteristic and influential aspect of its work in the Caribbean. We shall not discuss it in detail in this paper. However, we cannot refrain from mentioning-out of the 1,524 Protestant schools maintained in these countries-some outstand- ing Protestant educational institutions: in Cuba, Colegio "Los Amigos" (Friends), of which President Batista is a graduate, Co- legios Internacionales (Baptist), Candler College (Methodist), La Progresiva (Presbyterian); in Puerto Rico, Polytechnic Institute, on the college level; in Colombia, Colegio Americano (2 in Bogotan and 2 in Barranquilla); in Venezuela, Colegio Americano; in Mexico, Turner-Hodge School; in El Salvador and Nicaragua, the Baptist schools; in Panama, the Methodist school. These and many other Protestant schools in the Caribbean have earned an outstanding place in the life of the people because of their contribution to the moral and spiritual, as well as the intellectual, life of countless citizens. In some countries, such as Cuba and Colombia, Protestants have introduced coeducation. In Cuba the educational authorities have recognized the value of coeducation as an important factor in the life of society. In Colombia, the authorities have not favored it, but we trust they will some day. One of the great problems in the Caribbean area is the high Until recently, in Venezuela, the Protestants were the only ones who sold Bibles at a price within reach of the people. A few years ago a monastery in Caracas began selling the Nacar-Colunga ver- sion of the Bible at half price. This translation was made directly from the Greek and Hebrew originals. The Universidad de los Andes in Caracas now sponsor a half-hour radio program called "La Hora de la Biblia." Almost daily, the newspapers in Caracas publish comments on the Bible in their literary columns. In most cases the Biblical texts used are from the Reyna-Valera version rather than the Vulgate. The demand for the Scriptures in Latin America is almost insatiable and the Bible societies are rendering a great service. From its inception Protestantism has stressed education. It is perhaps the most characteristic and influential aspect of its work in the Caribbean. We shall not discuss it in detail in this paper. However, we cannot refrain from mentioning-out of the 1,524 Protestant schools maintained in these countries-some outstand- ing Protestant educational institutions: in Cuba, Colegio "Los Amigos" (Friends), of which President Batista is a graduate, Co- legios Internacionales (Baptist), Candler College (Methodist), La Progresiva (Presbyterian); in Puerto Rico, Polytechnic Institute, on the college level; in Colombia, Colegio Americano (2 in Bogotad and 2 in Barranquilla); in Venezuela, Colegio Americano; in Mexico, Turner-Hodge School; in El Salvador and Nicaragua, the Baptist schools; in Panama, the Methodist school. These and many other Protestant schools in the Caribbean have earned an outstanding place in the life of the people because of their contribution to the moral and spiritual, as well as the intellectual, life of countless citizens. In some countries, such as Cuba and Colombia, Protestants have introduced coeducation. In Cuba the educational authorities have recognized the value of coeducation as an important factor in the life of society. In Colombia, the authorities have not favored it, but we trust they will some day. One of the great problems in the Caribbean area is the high Until recently, in Venezuela, the Protestants were the only ones who sold Bibles at a price within reach of the people. A few years ago a monastery in Caracas began selling the Nacar-Colunga ver- sion of the Bible at half price. This translation was made directly from the Greek and Hebrew originals. The Universidad de los Andes in Caracas now sponsor a half-hour radio program called "La Hora de la Biblia." Almost daily, the newspapers in Caracas publish comments on the Bible in their literary columns. In most cases the Biblical texts used are from the Reyna-Valera version rather than the Vulgate. The demand for the Scriptures in Latin America is almost insatiable and the Bible societies are rendering a great service. From its inception Protestantism has stressed education. It is perhaps the most characteristic and influential aspect of its work in the Caribbean. We shall not discuss it in detail in this paper. However, we cannot refrain from mentioning-out of the 1,524 Protestant schools maintained in these countries-some outstand- ing Protestant educational institutions: in Cuba, Colegio "Los Amigos" (Friends), of which President Batista is a graduate, Co- legios Internacionales (Baptist), Candler College (Methodist), La Progresiva (Presbyterian); in Puerto Rico, Polytechnic Institute, on the college level; in Colombia, Colegio Americano (2 in Bogota and 2 in Barranquilla); in Venezuela, Colegio Americano; in Mexico, Turner-Hodge School; in El Salvador and Nicaragua, the Baptist schools; in Panama, the Methodist school. These and many other Protestant schools in the Caribbean have earned an outstanding place in the life of the people because of their contribution to the moral and spiritual, as well as the intellectual, life of countless citizens. In some countries, such as Cuba and Colombia, Protestants have introduced coeducation. In Cuba the educational authorities have recognized the value of coeducation as an important factor in the life of society. In Colombia, the authorities have not favored it, but we trust they will some day. One of the great problems in the Caribbean area is the high  164 The Caribbean 164 The Caribbean 164 The Caribbean rate of illiteracy in many of the countries. In recent years Prot- estantism has given a great impetus to literacy campaigns. Dr. Frank Laubach, a former Congregational missionary in the Philip- pines, and a world famous literacy expert, has visited most of these countries and in some cases, such as Venezuela, Guatemala, and Cuba, governments have used his method with great effect in big campaigns. Unesco found in starting pilot projects that the leaders of the Protestant churches had the only real experience from which advice could be sought. In Cuba a Presbyterian minister, who is also secretary of the Cuba Council of Churches, has been largely responsible for the success of the campaign in which 162 literacy centers have been established. Leading Havana dailies, such as El Mundo, have praised these efforts in which free literacy classes for adults have been organized. In the remotest places volunteer groups have been formed, and they give time and energy to this noble cause. Perhaps no contribution has been more deeply appreciated by the people in some of these countries than the medical work under Protestant auspices. Who in Puerto Rico does not know of the Presbyterian Hospital in that country; or who in the Dominican Republic has not heard of Hospital Internacional? We cite these two cases and others, namely, the Hospital Evangelico of Guate- mala and the Baptist Hospital in Managua, because, besides ren- dering outstanding service as medical institutions, they have trained hundreds of nurses over the years, and these are now to be found in many government hospitals of more recent origin. During World War II, the Mennonites, the Friends, and the Church of the Brethren began a rehabilitation program in Puerto Rico, which has had national importance. Centers were started in rural areas, and the programs include clinics, milk stations, public health and sanitation programs, recreation, needlework co- operatives, literacy work and adult education, and church services. The Presbyterians have begun a similar project in El Guacio, Puerto Rico. rate of illiteracy in many of the countries. In recent years Prot- estantism has given a great impetus to literacy campaigns. Dr. Frank Laubach, a former Congregational missionary in the Philip- pines, and a world famous literacy expert, has visited most of these countries and in some cases, such as Venezuela, Guatemala, and Cuba, governments have used his method with great effect in big campaigns. Unesco found in starting pilot projects that the leaders of the Protestant churches had the only real experience from which advice could be sought. In Cuba a Presbyterian minister, who is also secretary of the Cuba Council of Churches, has been largely responsible for the success of the campaign in which 162 literacy centers have been established. Leading Havana dailies, such as El Mundo, have praised these efforts in which free literacy classes for adults have been organized. In the remotest places volunteer groups have been formed, and they give time and energy to this noble cause. Perhaps no contribution has been more deeply appreciated by the people in some of these countries than the medical work under Protestant auspices. Who in Puerto Rico does not know of the Presbyterian Hospital in that country; or who in the Dominican Republic has not heard of Hospital Internactional? We cite these two cases and others, namely, the Hospital Evangelico of Guate- mala and the Baptist Hospital in Managua, because, besides ren- dering outstanding service as medical institutions, they have trained hundreds of nurses over the years, and these are now to be found in many government hospitals of more recent origin. During World War II, the Mennonites, the Friends, and the Church of the Brethren began a rehabilitation program in Puerto Rico, which has had national importance. Centers were started in rural areas, and the programs include clinics, milk stations, public health and sanitation programs, recreation, needlework co- operatives, literacy work and adult education, and church services. The Presbyterians have begun a similar project in El Guacio, Puerto Rico. rate of illiteracy in many of the countries. In recent years Prot- estantism has given a great impetus to literacy campaigns. Dr. Frank Laubach, a former Congregational missionary in the Philip- pines, and a world famous literacy expert, has visited most of these countries and in some cases, such as Venezuela, Guatemala, and Cuba, governments have used his method with great effect in big campaigns. Unesco found in starting pilot projects that the leaders of the Protestant churches had the only real experience from which advice could be sought. In Cuba a Presbyterian minister, who is also secretary of the Cuba Council of Churches, has been largely responsible for the success of the campaign in which 162 literacy centers have been established. Leading Havana dailies, such as El Mundo, have praised these efforts in which free literacy classes for adults have been organized. In the remotest places volunteer groups have been formed, and they give time and energy to this noble cause. Perhaps no contribution has been more deeply appreciated by the people in some of these countries than the medical work under Protestant auspices. Who in Puerto Rico does not know of the Presbyterian Hospital in that country; or who in the Dominican Republic has not heard of Hospital Internacional? We cite these two cases and others, namely, the Hospital Evangelico of Guate- mala and the Baptist Hospital in Managua, because, besides ren- dering outstanding service as medical institutions, they have trained hundreds of nurses over the years, and these are now to be found in many government hospitals of more recent origin. During World War II, the Mennonites, the Friends, and the Church of the Brethren began a rehabilitation program in Puerto Rico, which has had national importance. Centers were started in rural areas, and the programs include clinics, milk stations, public health and sanitation programs, recreation, needlework co- operatives, literacy work and adult education, and church services. The Presbyterians have begun a similar project in El Guacio, Puerto Rico.  RELIGION 165 In May, 1954, the town of Encrucijada, Cuba, in a solemn ceremony, named one of its main streets Rev. Ferreol J. G6mez. I met this young Presbyterian pastor at an international missionary conference in India in 1938. Soon after his return to Cuba he died suddenly, but his memory lives on in the town where he gave so much of his service in the name of Christ. Some years before, he had requested permission to go to Encrucijada, where there was no Protestant church. His plan was, rather than build a church and start preaching, to live the Christian life, as he knew it, among the people. He visited the people in their homes and brought them spiritual uplift and help in their daily problems. He busied himself in social action, education, and the improvement of conditions, but always with the idea of treating man as a whole, and not separat- ing the body, the mind, and the soul. After a few months a group of citizens came to call on him to inquire about the secret of his life, as they felt he had something they did not have. He told them that the Bible was the secret of his life and began to read and expound the Scriptures to them. This group brought their friends to subsequent meetings in G6mez' home and later rented a hall where he could speak to them regularly. In time they built a church, and he became the pastor. Shortly after his untimely death, a doctor of the town called a meeting of all the other doctors and proposed a plan to raise money to build and equip a clinic next to G6mez' church, to give medical treatment to those who could not afford to pay for it. He said he was not an evangelical, but he would like to see this done as a memorial to Ferreol Gomez, who, as he walked down the street, reminded him of Jesus Christ. I have related this story because, although it is rather unusual, it does show vividly how the Protestant movement in the Carib- bean is directed toward the total regeneration and uplift of man. In many of the countries of the Caribbean area, the Protestant movement has contributed to the formation of a middle class. RELIGION 165 RELIGION 165 In May, 1954, the town of Encrucijada, Cuba, in a solemn ceremony, named one of its main streets Rev. Ferreol J. G6mez. I met this young Presbyterian pastor at an international missionary conference in India in 1938. Soon after his return to Cuba he died suddenly, but his memory lives on in the town where he gave so much of his service in the name of Christ. Some years before, he had requested permission to go to Encrucijada, where there was no Protestant church. His plan was, rather than build a church and start preaching, to live the Christian life, as he knew it, among the people. He visited the people in their homes and brought them spiritual uplift and help in their daily problems. He busied himself in social action, education, and the improvement of conditions, but always with the idea of treating man as a whole, and not separat- ing the body, the mind, and the soul. After a few months a group of citizens came to call on him to inquire about the secret of his life, as they felt he had something they did not have. He told them that the Bible was the secret of his life and began to read and expound the Scriptures to them. This group brought their friends to subsequent meetings in G6mez' home and later rented a hall where he could speak to them regularly. In time they built a church, and he became the pastor. Shortly after his untimely death, a doctor of the town called a meeting of all the other doctors and proposed a plan to raise money to build and equip a clinic next to Gomez' church, to give medical treatment to those who could not afford to pay for it. He said he was not an evangelical, but he would like to see this done as a memorial to Ferreol G6mez, who, as he walked down the street, reminded him of Jesus Christ. I have related this story because, although it is rather unusual, it does show vividly how the Protestant movement in the Carib- bean is directed toward the total regeneration and uplift of man. In many of the countries of the Caribbean area, the Protestant movement has contributed to the formation of a middle class. In May, 1954, the town of Encrucijada, Cuba, in a solemn ceremony, named one of its main streets Rev. Ferreol J. G6mez. I met this young Presbyterian pastor at an international missionary conference in India in 1938. Soon after his return to Cuba he died suddenly, but his memory lives on in the town where he gave so much of his service in the name of Christ. Some years before, he had requested permission to go to Encrucijada, where there was no Protestant church. His plan was, rather than build a church and start preaching, to live the Christian life, as he knew it, among the people. He visited the people in their homes and brought them spiritual uplift and help in their daily problems. He busied himself in social action, education, and the improvement of conditions, but always with the idea of treating man as a whole, and not separat- ing the body, the mind, and the soul. After a few months a group of citizens came to call on him to inquire about the secret of his life, as they felt he had something they did not have. He told them that the Bible was the secret of his life and began to read and expound the Scriptures to them. This group brought their friends to subsequent meetings in G6mez' home and later rented a hall where he could speak to them regularly. In time they built a church, and he became the pastor. Shortly after his untimely death, a doctor of the town called a meeting of all the other doctors and proposed a plan to raise money to build and equip a clinic next to G6mez' church, to give medical treatment to those who could not afford to pay for it. He said he was not an evangelical, but he would like to see this done as a memorial to Ferreol G6mez, who, as he walked down the street, reminded him of Jesus Christ. I have related this story because, although it is rather unusual, it does show vividly how the Protestant movement in the Carib- bean is directed toward the total regeneration and uplift of man. In many of the countries of the Caribbean area, the Protestant movement has contributed to the formation of a middle class.  166 The Caribbean 166 The Caribbean 166 The Caribbean Only a few decades ago in some countries, a middle class was practically nonexistent, and even today it is no more than incipi- ent. A convert to the Gospel has a new outlook on life. He im- mediately abandons his old habits that were destroying his life and his energy and using up his income, and he now devotes these to improving his home, educating his children properly- and probably himself as well. The children of many of the con- verts of yesterday are the professionals and middle-class business men of today. This is an important contribution of Protestantism, because in all these countries the majority of the people are poor and underprivileged. Besides the inherent benefits to the individ- ual, this creation of a middle class has a larger significance, be- cause a middle class is the backbone of a democracy. In Mexico and Guatemala, where there is a large Indian popu- lation, the Protestants have made special efforts toward uplifting them physically, morally, and spiritually. Missionaries have pio- neered, and are still pioneering, in Indian languages such as Maya, Aztec, and Zapoteca in Mexico. Many Indian languages have been reduced to writing, churches and schools have been established, and Indian workers have been trained to work among their own people. In the states of Yucatan and Quintana Roo, where work is carried on in both Spanish and Maya, Gospel cars, motor boats, and the Mission plane, equipped with loud speakers and projec- tors, are taking the Gospel to towns and villages, as well as to remote places in the jungle. A similar service has been rendered the Mam and Quiche In- dians of Guatemala. Centers have been established with rural education programs, clinics, preparation of Indian workers and teachers, as well as evangelism. At this point we wish to state that Protestant missionaries in the Caribbean area have been ambassadors of good will and under- standing, and that this is part of the significance of Protestantism. By going to serve the people of these countries, they have exempli- fied in their life and conduct the best of North American life. A number of North American missionaries have been decorated by Only a few decades ago in some countries, a middle class was practically nonexistent, and even today it is no more than incipi- ent. A convert to the Gospel has a new outlook on life. He im- mediately abandons his old habits that were destroying his life and his energy and using up his income, and he now devotes these to improving his home, educating his children properly- and probably himself as well. The children of many of the con- verts of yesterday are the professionals and middle-class business men of today. This is an important contribution of Protestantism, because in all these countries the majority of the people are poor and underprivileged. Besides the inherent benefits to the individ- ual, this creation of a middle class has a larger significance, be- cause a middle class is the backbone of a democracy. In Mexico and Guatemala, where there is a large Indian popu- lation, the Protestants have made special efforts toward uplifting them physically, morally, and spiritually. Missionaries have pio- neered, and are still pioneering, in Indian languages such as Maya, Aztec, and Zapoteca in Mexico. Many Indian languages have been reduced to writing, churches and schools have been established, and Indian workers have been trained to work among their own people. In the states of Yucatan and Quintana Roo, where work is carried on in both Spanish and Maya, Gospel cars, motor boats, and the Mission plane, equipped with loud speakers and projec- tors, are taking the Gospel to towns and villages, as well as to remote places in the jungle. A similar service has been rendered the Mam and Quiche In- dians of Guatemala. Centers have been established with rural education programs, clinics, preparation of Indian workers and teachers, as well as evangelism. At this point we wish to state that Protestant missionaries in the Caribbean area have been ambassadors of good will and under- standing, and that this is part of the significance of Protestantism. By going to serve the people of these countries, they have exempli- fied in their life and conduct the best of North American life. A number of North American missionaries have been decorated by Only a few decades ago in some countries, a middle class was practically nonexistent, and even today it is no more than incipi- ent. A convert to the Gospel has a new outlook on life. He im- mediately abandons his old habits that were destroying his life and his energy and using up his income, and he now devotes these to improving his home, educating his children properly- and probably himself as well. The children of many of the con- verts of yesterday are the professionals and middle-class business men of today. This is an important contribution of Protestantism, because in all these countries the majority of the people are poor and underprivileged. Besides the inherent benefits to the individ- ual, this creation of a middle class has a larger significance, be- cause a middle class is the backbone of a democracy. In Mexico and Guatemala, where there is a large Indian popu- lation, the Protestants have made special efforts toward uplifting them physically, morally, and spiritually. Missionaries have pio- neered, and are still pioneering, in Indian languages such as Maya, Aztec, and Zapoteca in Mexico. Many Indian languages have been reduced to writing, churches and schools have been established, and Indian workers have been trained to work among their own people. In the states of Yucatan and Quintana Roo, where work is carried on in both Spanish and Maya, Gospel cars, motor boats, and the Mission plane, equipped with loud speakers and projec- tors, are taking the Gospel to towns and villages, as well as to remote places in the jungle. A similar service has been rendered the Mam and Quiche In- dians of Guatemala. Centers have been established with rural education programs, clinics, preparation of Indian workers and teachers, as well as evangelism. At this point we wish to state that Protestant missionaries in the Caribbean area have been ambassadors of good will and under- standing, and that this is part of the significance of Protestantism. By going to serve the people of these countries, they have exempli- fied in their life and conduct the best of North American life. A number of North American missionaries have been decorated by  RELIGION 167 RELIGION 167 RELIGION 167 the government of Cuba, and one by the government of Venezuela, for their outstanding service, especially in the field of education. The large body of Christian literature which has been created in Spanish during the past thirty years has supplied a great need in the Caribbean countries. In addition to the many-faceted pro- gram of evangelical literature, there is now being published a new set of curriculum materials written mostly by Latin Americans for use in Sunday schools and young people's societies. The training of children and young people in great moral prin- ciples, and the nurture of a strong Christian faith, are very im- portant in these days of revolutionary change and bewilderment on all sides. A virile Protestant faith, with its emphasis on an ethically based religion and high moral conduct in private and public life, is the answer to the communist challenge of a materialistic philos- ophy of life, for where Protestantism is strong communism is no threat. In the European possessions-the Guianas, Jamaica, Trini- dad, and the many other islands in the Antilles and Leeward groups-the Protestant work is much older than in the republics. For instance, the Dutch Lutherans established the first Protestant church in the Guianas in 1743. In British Guiana, as in Trini- dad, there is a large Hindu and Moslem element. The Lutherans, Canadian Presbyterians, and British Methodists in British Guiana, and the United Church of Canada, the British Methodists, and national organizations in Trinidad, work among these groups as well as other ethnic groups in these areas, their greatest contribu- tion being in the field of education and the preparation of youth for tomorrow. The diversity of culture and race make the problem very complex. III The greatest and most far-reaching contribution of Protestant- ism is in the realm of the spirit. In the first place, Protestantism advocates freedom of con- the government of Cuba, and one by the government of Venezuela, for their outstanding service, especially in the field of education. The large body of Christian literature which has been created in Spanish during the past thirty years has supplied a great need in the Caribbean countries. In addition to the many-faceted pro- gram of evangelical literature, there is now being published a new set of curriculum materials written mostly by Latin Americans for use in Sunday schools and young people's societies. The training of children and young people in great moral prin- ciples, and the nurture of a strong Christian faith, are very im- portant in these days of revolutionary change and bewilderment on all sides. A virile Protestant faith, with its emphasis on an ethically based religion and high moral conduct in private and public life, is the answer to the communist challenge of a materialistic philos- ophy of life, for where Protestantism is strong communism is no threat. In the European possessions-the Guianas, Jamaica, Trini- dad, and the many other islands in the Antilles and Leeward groups-the Protestant work is much older than in the republics. For instance, the Dutch Lutherans established the first Protestant church in the Guianas in 1743. In British Guiana, as in Trini- dad, there is a large Hindu and Moslem element. The Lutherans, Canadian Presbyterians, and British Methodists in British Guiana, and the United Church of Canada, the British Methodists, and national organizations in Trinidad, work among these groups as well as other ethnic groups in these areas, their greatest contribu- tion being in the field of education and the preparation of youth for tomorrow. The diversity of culture and race make the problem very complex. III The greatest and most far-reaching contribution of Protestant- ism is in the realm of the spirit. In the first place, Protestantism advocates freedom of con- the government of Cuba, and one by the government of Venezuela, for their outstanding service, especially in the field of education. The large body of Christian literature which has been created in Spanish during the past thirty years has supplied a great need in the Caribbean countries. In addition to the many-faceted pro- gram of evangelical literature, there is now being published a new set of curriculum materials written mostly by Latin Americans for use in Sunday schools and young people's societies. The training of children and young people in great moral prin- ciples, and the nurture of a strong Christian faith, are very im- portant in these days of revolutionary change and bewilderment on all sides. A virile Protestant faith, with its emphasis on an ethically based religion and high moral conduct in private and public life, is the answer to the communist challenge of a materialistic philos- ophy of life, for where Protestantism is strong communism is no threat. In the European possessions-the Guianas, Jamaica, Trini- dad, and the many other islands in the Antilles and Leeward groups-the Protestant work is much older than in the republics. For instance, the Dutch Lutherans established the first Protestant church in the Guianas in 1743. In British Guiana, as in Trini- dad, there is a large Hindu and Moslem element. The Lutherans, Canadian Presbyterians, and British Methodists in British Guiana, and the United Church of Canada, the British Methodists, and national organizations in Trinidad, work among these groups as well as other ethnic groups in these areas, their greatest contribu- tion being in the field of education and the preparation of youth for tomorrow. The diversity of culture and race make the problem very complex. III The greatest and most far-reaching contribution of Protestant- ism is in the realm of the spirit. In the first place, Protestantism advocates freedom of con-  168 The Caribbean science, freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, and freedom of worship-that is, the basic human rights. Protestants maintain that religious freedom is a God-given right which therefore should be guaranteed rather than granted by governments. Protestants in Colombia have gone through a bitter struggle in the past four years to uphold freedom of religious worship and the basic rights which it involves. These are still threatened. Religious freedom is guaranteed in the constitutions of all the Caribbean republics, and we believe that the progress of these countries depends on the degree to which freedom of conscience is respected, as well as the right to propagate one's faith. The strength of Protestantism in the Caribbean derives from its rediscovery of religion as faith-faith in a person rather than a system-and from the fact that those who are committed to Jesus Christ as Lord of their lives and are active members of a Christian community make good citizens of the type that will build a new humanity under God. 168 The Caribbean 168 The Caribbean science, freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, and freedom of worship-that is, the basic human rights. Protestants maintain that religious freedom is a God-given right which therefore should be guaranteed rather than granted by governments. Protestants in Colombia have gone through a bitter struggle in the past four years to uphold freedom of religious worship and the basic rights which it involves. These are still threatened. Religious freedom is guaranteed in the constitutions of all the Caribbean republics, and we believe that the progress of these countries depends on the degree to which freedom of conscience is respected, as well as the right to propagate one's faith. The strength of Protestantism in the Caribbean derives from its rediscovery of religion as faith-faith in a person rather than a system-and from the fact that those who are committed to Jesus Christ as Lord of their lives and are active members of a Christian community make good citizens of the type that will build a new humanity under God. science, freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, and freedom of worship-that is, the basic human rights. Protestants maintain that religious freedom is a God-given right which therefore should be guaranteed rather than granted by governments. Protestants in Colombia have gone through a bitter struggle in the past four years to uphold freedom of religious worship and the basic rights which it involves. These are still threatened. Religious freedom is guaranteed in the constitutions of all the Caribbean republics, and we believe that the progress of these countries depends on the degree to which freedom of conscience is respected, as well as the right to propagate one's faith. The strength of Protestantism in the Caribbean derives from its rediscovery of religion as faith-faith in a person rather than a system-and from the fact that those who are committed to Jesus Christ as Lord of their lives and are active members of a Christian community make good citizens of the type that will build a new humanity under God.  Adrian Recinos: RELIGION AND CULTURE IN THE CARIBBEAN IT IS A WELL-KNOWN FACT that in all times and in all places religion has had a profound influence on the life and the culture of man. The priest has not only been the spiritual director but the family counsellor, the guardian of the customs of the people, the depository of scientific knowledge and national traditions, and throughout history it is not unusual to see him also directing politi- cal activities and even the government of the community. We do not have to consider here the influence of religion on the life of the educated man of these countries. From time im- memorial, the Church has been an important factor in the morality and the culture of the people. We must turn our attention par- ticularly to that part of the population of the Caribbean zone which has still not emerged from the poverty and misery in which it has lived from the colonial period, whose standard of living is extremely low, and whose culture is almost nil. 1 To understand the ways of thinking of a large number of the present native population, we have to go back to the old times, to the first centuries of our era when in the center of the continent there flourished a group of nations who, independently of the rest 169 Adrian Recinos: RELIGION AND CULTURE IN THE CARIBBEAN IT IS A WELL-KNOWN FACT that in all times and in all places religion has had a profound influence on the life and the culture of man. The priest has not only been the spiritual director but the family counsellor, the guardian of the customs of the people, the depository of scientific knowledge and national traditions, and throughout history it is not unusual to see him also directing politi- cal activities and even the government of the community. We do not have to consider here the influence of religion on the life of the educated man of these countries. From time im- memorial, the Church has been an important factor in the morality and the culture of the people. We must turn our attention par- ticularly to that part of the population of the Caribbean zone which has still not emerged from the poverty and misery in which it has lived from the colonial period, whose standard of living is extremely low, and whose culture is almost nil. 1 To understand the ways of thinking of a large number of the present native population, we have to go back to the old times, to the first centuries of our era when in the center of the continent there flourished a group of nations who, independently of the rest 169 Adrian Recinos: RELIGION AND CULTURE IN THE CARIBBEAN IT IS A WELL-KNOWN FACT that in all times and in all places religion has had a profound influence on the life and the culture of man. The priest has not only been the spiritual director but the family counsellor, the guardian of the customs of the people, the depository of scientific knowledge and national traditions, and throughout history it is not unusual to see him also directing politi- cal activities and even the government of the community. We do not have to consider here the influence of religion on the life of the educated man of these countries. From time im- memorial, the Church has been an important factor in the morality and the culture of the people. We must turn our attention par- ticularly to that part of the population of the Caribbean zone which has still not emerged from the poverty and misery in which it has lived from the colonial period, whose standard of living is extremely low, and whose culture is almost nil. 1 To understand the ways of thinking of a large number of the present native population, we have to go back to the old times, to the first centuries of our era when in the center of the continent there flourished a group of nations who, independently of the rest 169  170 The Caribbean of the world, developed a civilization which surprised the Euro- pean conquistadores. The archaeological remains of the civilized peoples of Mexico and Central America, which are spread all over these territories, serve in part to help us appreciate the culture of those people and to realize the influence which religion has had on their way of life. The inhabitants of that part of the New World which we know as the Caribbean region, or the semitropical zone, had in the pre-Columbian epoch a religious organization, if we are to judge by records which have come down to us in the form of stories, paintings, and stone sculpture. According to the records, the entire life of the Aztecs of Mexico and the Mayas of Yucatin developed in conformity with the ideas of religion and was governed by the priests. All private and social acts were governed by strict principles and man practically lacked free will, so that in every act of his life he obeyed an abstract being of the many who formed the extensive indigenous pantheon. Birth, marriage, even death, changes of the seasons and agricultural labors related with them, the fortunes of the harvest, of peace and of war, and in general all undertakings, individual or collective, were under the guidance of a supernatural agent, a family god, or one of the many protective gods of the community. These ancient beliefs were partially destroyed by the influence and teachings of the Christian missionaries since the earliest years of the Spanish Conquest; yet after four hundred years they are still deeply ingrained in the conscience of the people. The work of the missionaries was essentially that of the civilizers in the early years of the Colonial period; they taught the Indians the principles of a religion of love, and slowly destroyed the old pagan- ism and suppressed many of the external practices of a gory cul- ture which indulged in human sacrifice. The preachings of the missionaries served to make less cruel the customs of the Indians; the ancient religion was replaced by a doctrine of peace and human brotherhood which gave new direc- 170 The Caribbean 170 The Caribbean of the world, developed a civilization which surprised the Euro- pean conquistadores. The archaeological remains of the civilized peoples of Mexico and Central America, which are spread all over these territories, serve in part to help us appreciate the culture of those people and to realize the influence which religion has had on their way of life. The inhabitants of that part of the New World which we know as the Caribbean region, or the semitropical zone, had in the pre-Columbian epoch a religious organization, if we are to judge by records which have come down to us in the form of stories, paintings, and stone sculpture. According to the records, the entire life of the Aztecs of Mexico and the Mayas of Yucatan developed in conformity with the ideas of religion and was governed by the priests. All private and social acts were governed by strict principles and man practically lacked free will, so that in every act of his life he obeyed an abstract being of the many who formed the extensive indigenous pantheon. Birth, marriage, even death, changes of the seasons and agricultural labors related with them, the fortunes of the harvest, of peace and of war, and in general all undertakings, individual or collective, were under the guidance of a supernatural agent, a family god, or one of the many protective gods of the community. These ancient beliefs were partially destroyed by the influence and teachings of the Christian missionaries since the earliest years of the Spanish Conquest; yet after four hundred years they are still deeply ingrained in the conscience of the people. The work of the missionaries was essentially that of the civilizers in the early years of the Colonial period; they taught the Indians the principles of a religion of love, and slowly destroyed the old pagan- ism and suppressed many of the external practices of a gory cul- ture which indulged in human sacrifice. The preachings of the missionaries served to make less cruel the customs of the Indians; the ancient religion was replaced by a doctrine of peace and human brotherhood which gave new direc- of the world, developed a civilization which surprised the Euro- pean conquistadores. The archaeological remains of the civilized peoples of Mexico and Central America, which are spread all over these territories, serve in part to help us appreciate the culture of those people and to realize the influence which religion has had on their way of life. The inhabitants of that part of the New World which we know as the Caribbean region, or the semitropical zone, had in the pre-Columbian epoch a religious organization, if we are to judge by records which have come down to us in the form of stories, paintings, and stone sculpture. According to the records, the entire life of the Aztecs of Mexico and the Mayas of Yucatan developed in conformity with the ideas of religion and was governed by the priests. All private and social acts were governed by strict principles and man practically lacked free will, so that in every act of his life he obeyed an abstract being of the many who formed the extensive indigenous pantheon. Birth, marriage, even death, changes of the seasons and agricultural labors related with them, the fortunes of the harvest, of peace and of war, and in general all undertakings, individual or collective, were under the guidance of a supernatural agent, a family god, or one of the many protective gods of the community. These ancient beliefs were partially destroyed by the influence and teachings of the Christian missionaries since the earliest years of the Spanish Conquest; yet after four hundred years they are still deeply ingrained in the conscience of the people. The work of the missionaries was essentially that of the civilizers in the early years of the Colonial period; they taught the Indians the principles of a religion of love, and slowly destroyed the old pagan- ism and suppressed many of the external practices of a gory cul- ture which indulged in human sacrifice. The preachings of the missionaries served to make less cruel the customs of the Indians; the ancient religion was replaced by a doctrine of peace and human brotherhood which gave new direc-  RELIGION 171 RELIGION 171 RELIGION tion to the conduct of the people and, at the same time, placed them under the protection of the Church. In those difficult times the Catholic religion actually played the role of moderator against the violences of the conquerors and those landowners who for many years held the natives in slavery. Nevertheless, the natives did not completely forget their an- cient gods. Today, still, among the Indians of Mexico and Guate- mala one sees a confusion of Catholicism and the ancient beliefs. The Indian joins his prayers to the saints of the Church with his supplication to the natural elements-the sun and the moon, the wind and the rain-to which he attributes the good harvest. To the altar in the church he bears his offerings of flowers, fruits, and ears of ripened corn. Within the church he lights candles. Out- side the church before the crosses planted by the roadside, he burns copal, the Indian incense, and in his own tongue prays to the ancient gods whom he freely associates with God the Father of the Christians. In his inner being the Indian is part-Christian, part-pagan, but he listens with respect to the priest who in simple words explains the Gospel. Another form of slavery similar to that of the Indians was also established in all the littoral of the Caribbean Sea and in the West Indies, where European colonists imported African laborers and put them to work on their plantations. These were people of a different race who, in the course of time, formed an important part of the population of these countries. As was natural, these immigrants brought with them their cus- toms, their language, and their religion. In Cuba, in Haiti, and in practically all the Caribbean area, the Negroes have been con- verted to the Christian faith, but like the Indians of Mexico and Guatemala they cling to their superstitions, and continue to prac- tice their ancient religion, their acts of magic and voodooism, which is a mixture of the ritual of the Catholic Church and of the African ceremonies and chants. The European clergy and the clergy of Spanish America have sought to destroy these practices in their respective jurisdictions, tion to the conduct of the people and, at the same time, placed them under the protection of the Church. In those difficult times the Catholic religion actually played the role of moderator against the violences of the conquerors and those landowners who for many years held the natives in slavery. Nevertheless, the natives did not completely forget their an- cient gods. Today, still, among the Indians of Mexico and Guate- mala one sees a confusion of Catholicism and the ancient beliefs. The Indian joins his prayers to the saints of the Church with his supplication to the natural elements-the sun and the moon, the wind and the rain-to which he attributes the good harvest. To the altar in the church he bears his offerings of flowers, fruits, and ears of ripened corn. Within the church he lights candles. Out- side the church before the crosses planted by the roadside, he burns copal, the Indian incense, and in his own tongue prays to the ancient gods whom he freely associates with God the Father of the Christians. In his inner being the Indian is part-Christian, part-pagan, but he listens with respect to the priest who in simple words explains the Gospel. Another form of slavery similar to that of the Indians was also established in all the littoral of the Caribbean Sea and in the West Indies, where European colonists imported African laborers and put them to work on their plantations. These were people of a different race who, in the course of time, formed an important part of the population of these countries. As was natural, these immigrants brought with them their cus- toms, their language, and their religion. In Cuba, in Haiti, and in practically all the Caribbean area, the Negroes have been con- verted to the Christian faith, but like the Indians of Mexico and Guatemala they cling to their superstitions, and continue to prac- tice their ancient religion, their acts of magic and voodooism, which is a mixture of the ritual of the Catholic Church and of the African ceremonies and chants. The European clergy and the clergy of Spanish America have sought to destroy these practices in their respective jurisdictions, tion to the conduct of the people and, at the same time, placed them under the protection of the Church. In those difficult times the Catholic religion actually played the role of moderator against the violences of the conquerors and those landowners who for many years held the natives in slavery. Nevertheless, the natives did not completely forget their an- cient gods. Today, still, among the Indians of Mexico and Guate- mala one sees a confusion of Catholicism and the ancient beliefs. The Indian joins his prayers to the saints of the Church with his supplication to the natural elements-the sun and the moon, the wind and the rain-to which he attributes the good harvest. To the altar in the church he bears his offerings of flowers, fruits, and ears of ripened corn. Within the church he lights candles. Out- side the church before the crosses planted by the roadside, he burns copal, the Indian incense, and in his own tongue prays to the ancient gods whom he freely associates with God the Father of the Christians. In his inner being the Indian is part-Christian, part-pagan, but he listens with respect to the priest who in simple words explains the Gospel. Another form of slavery similar to that of the Indians was also established in all the littoral of the Caribbean Sea and in the West Indies, where European colonists imported African laborers and put them to work on their plantations. These weere people of a different race who, in the course of time, formed an important part of the population of these countries. As was natural, these immigrants brought with them their cus- toms, their language, and their religion. In Cuba, in Haiti, and in practically all the Caribbean area, the Negroes have been con- verted to the Christian faith, but like the Indians of Mexico and Guatemala they cling to their superstitions, and continue to prac- tice their ancient religion, their acts of magic and voodooism, which is a mixture of the ritual of the Catholic Church and of the African ceremonies and chants. The European clergy and the clergy of Spanish America have sought to destroy these practices in their respective jurisdictions,  172 The Caribbean 172 The Caribbean but custom and tradition are forces fixed deep in man and dis- appear only after a long period of time. II The work of civilizing must still be a missionary work among the natives of this region of the Western Hemisphere. The public schools in Mexico, in Central America, or in the West Indies have not succeeded in giving the people even the most basic scientific knowledge, nor even in teaching everyone to read and write. Christian missionaries are still needed, who will live in the interior and the rural areas of these countries and, at the same time as they teach the principles of religion, will also teach rules of better living, the elements of hygiene and health, and some practical ideas of work. The Catholic religion, which still predominates in the spiritual world of the Caribbean region, and the Protestant missions, which have been extending their sphere of influence in these territories, have taken in recent times a new course highly favorable for the diffusion of culture. In various countries of this zone, one ob- serves a tendency on the part of the ministers to extend their activ- ities to the social field, to the teaching of youth, and to encourage- ment of athletic sports. The needs of the modern world demand of men today a greater social cooperation for the common good. Religion, in my judg- ment, can render important services for the diffusion of culture if, in addition to its spiritual labors, it enters the field of education and takes part in social activities. In this Caribbean region, where millions of men and women still exist in a primitive culture, the Church and State working independently but on parallel lines must educate the people and raise their material and moral stand- ards in order to prepare coming generations, who will be able to contribute to the progress and the well-being of this part of the world. The widespread poverty and ignorance in which a large part of but custom and tradition are forces fixed deep in man and dis- appear only after a long period of time. 11 The work of civilizing must still be a missionary work among the natives of this region of the Western Hemisphere. The public schools in Mexico, in Central America, or in the West Indies have not succeeded in giving the people even the most basic scientific knowledge, nor even in teaching everyone to read and write. Christian missionaries are still needed, who will live in the interior and the rural areas of these countries and, at the same time as they teach the principles of religion, will also teach rules of better living, the elements of hygiene and health, and some practical ideas of work. The Catholic religion, which still predominates in the spiritual world of the Caribbean region, and the Protestant missions, which have been extending their sphere of influence in these territories, have taken in recent times a new course highly favorable for the diffusion of culture. In various countries of this zone, one ob- serves a tendency on the part of the ministers to extend their activ- ities to the social field, to the teaching of youth, and to encourage- ment of athletic sports. The needs of the modern world demand of men today a greater social cooperation for the common good. Religion, in my judg- ment, can render important services for the diffusion of culture if, in addition to its spiritual labors, it enters the field of education and takes part in social activities. In this Caribbean region, where millions of men and women still exist in a primitive culture, the Church and State working independently but on parallel lines must educate the people and raise their material and moral stand- ards in order to prepare coming generations, who will be able to contribute to the progress and the well-being of this part of the world. The widespread poverty and ignorance in which a large part of 172 The Caribbean but custom and tradition are forces fixed deep in man and dis- appear only after a long period of time. II The work of civilizing must still be a missionary work among the natives of this region of the Western Hemisphere. The public schools in Mexico, in Central America, or in the West Indies have not succeeded in giving the people even the most basic scientific knowledge, nor even in teaching everyone to read and write. Christian missionaries are still needed, who will live in the interior and the rural areas of these countries and, at the same time as they teach the principles of religion, will also teach rules of better living, the elements of hygiene and health, and some practical ideas of work. The Catholic religion, which still predominates in the spiritual world of the Caribbean region, and the Protestant missions, which have been extending their sphere of influence in these territories, have taken in recent times a new course highly favorable for the diffusion of culture. In various countries of this zone, one ob- serves a tendency on the part of the ministers to extend their activ- ities to the social field, to the teaching of youth, and to encourage- ment of athletic sports. The needs of the modern world demand of men today a greater social cooperation for the common good. Religion, in my judg- ment, can render important services for the diffusion of culture if, in addition to its spiritual labors, it enters the field of education and takes part in social activities. In this Caribbean region, where millions of men and women still exist in a primitive culture, the Church and State working independently but on parallel lines must educate the people and raise their material and moral stand- ards in order to prepare coming generations, who will be able to contribute to the progress and the well-being of this part of the world. The widespread poverty and ignorance in which a large part of  RELIGION 173 RELIGION 173 RELIGION 173 the population of the Caribbean area live are elements causing the unrest and desperation of which communism takes advantage in order to implant ideas destructive to our social regime. If we wish to save our material and spiritual world from the grave dangers which threaten the present social order, it is im- perative that all men and cultural institutions redouble their efforts to educate and enlighten these people, and thus help insure the preservation of our cultural heritage and the welfare of the inhabitants of the New World. the population of the Caribbean area live are elements causing the unrest and desperation of which communism takes advantage in order to implant ideas destructive to our social regime. If we wish to save our material and spiritual world from the grave dangers which threaten the present social order, it is im- perative that all men and cultural institutions redouble their efforts to educate and enlighten these people, and thus help insure the preservation of our cultural heritage and the welfare of the inhabitants of the New World. the population of the Caribbean area live are elements causing the unrest and desperation of which communism takes advantage in order to implant ideas destructive to our social regime. If we wish to save our material and spiritual world from the grave dangers which threaten the present social order, it is im- perative that all men and cultural institutions redouble their efforts to educate and enlighten these people, and thus help insure the preservation of our cultural heritage and the welfare of the inhabitants of the New World.   Part VI Part VI Part VI CULTURAL CONCEPTS CULTURAL CONCEPTS CULTURAL CONCEPTS   William A. Weber: CULTURE AND COMMERCE IN THE CARIBBEAN AT THE OUTSET I would like to assure you that Alcoa Steam- ship Company, possessing as it does such a variety of interests in the Caribbean, is genuinely interested in everything relating to the educational, cultural, and economic advancement of the area. With the conference theme in mind, and before undertaking a development of the concepts I hope to leave with you, it should not be out of place to point out several of the contributions Alcoa Steamship has made in fostering a wider knowledge of the people, the history, the beauty, the music, and the general culture of the Caribbean through the medium of its advertising programs designed to sell travel to the area and American interest in its markets. Those of you who may be readers of the publications Time or Holiday, for example, doubtless will remember the brilliantly colored series by Boris Artzybasheff, the central theme of which was a typical native of a Caribbean land served by Alcoa's ships, portrayed in an atmosphere of local birds and flowers. A subse- quent series featured explorers and others of the Caribbean, such as Ojeda, Bolivar, and Morgan, whose names are emblazoned in its history and development. Another program was built around 177 William A. Weber: CULTURE AND COMMERCE IN THE CARIBBEAN AT THE OUTSET I would like to assure you that Alcoa Steam- ship Company, possessing as it does such a variety of interests in the Caribbean, is genuinely interested in everything relating to the educational, cultural, and economic advancement of the area. With the conference theme in mind, and before undertaking a development of the concepts I hope to leave with you, it should not be out of place to point out several of the contributions Alcoa Steamship has made in fostering a wider knowledge of the people, the history, the beauty, the music, and the general culture of the Caribbean through the medium of its advertising programs designed to sell travel to the area and American interest in its markets. Those of you who may be readers of the publications Time or Holiday, for example, doubtless will remember the brilliantly colored series by Boris Artzybasheff, the central theme of which was a typical native of a Caribbean land served by Alcoa's ships, portrayed in an atmosphere of local birds and flowers. A subse- quent series featured explorers and others of the Caribbean, such as Ojeda, Bolivar, and Morgan, whose names are emblazoned in its history and development. Another program was built around 177 William A. Weber: CULTURE AND COMMERCE IN THE CARIBBEAN AT THE OUTSET I would like to assure you that Alcoa Steam- ship Company, possessing as it does such a variety of interests in the Caribbean, is genuinely interested in everything relating to the educational, cultural, and economic advancement of the area. With the conference theme in mind, and before undertaking a development of the concepts I hope to leave with you, it should not be out of place to point out several of the contributions Alcoa Steamship has made in fostering a wider knowledge of the people, the history, the beauty, the music, and the general culture of the Caribbean through the medium of its advertising programs designed to sell travel to the area and American interest in its markets. Those of you who may be readers of the publications Time or Holiday, for example, doubtless will remember the brilliantly colored series by Boris Artzybasheff, the central theme of which was a typical native of a Caribbean land served by Alcoa's ships, portrayed in an atmosphere of local birds and flowers. A subse- quent series featured explorers and others of the Caribbean, such as Ojeda, Bolivar, and Morgan, whose names are emblazoned in its history and development. Another program was built around 177  178 The Caribbean 178 The Caribbean 178 The Caribbean a widely acclaimed group of paintings, recently collected and pub- lished in book form as The Flowering Trees of the Caribbean. Currently, Alcoa advertising is associated with art depicting native dances such as the Venezuelan Joropo, the Merengues of the Dominican Republic, and the Tumba of Curagao. In addition, to complement the current program, Alcoa has arranged for the pro- duction of "on-the-spot" recordings of the native music associated with the respective dances, and anyone desiring a recording of Haitian Songs and Drums, or of a Trinidad Calypso and Steel Baod, just to mention two, may obtain them from Alcoa. As a still further indication of our company's interest in the peoples of the Caribbean, and as a stimulus to their cultural de- velopment, it plans in the very near future a series of local art contests to be conducted in fourteen separate Caribbean areas, each entry to be confined to a painting relating to that part of the region in which the artist lives. There will be cash prizes for winners at the local level, whose entries then will be sent to New York for additional competition and cash prizes. Ultimately, it is intended that the paintings of the finalists will be featured in future Alcoa advertising. 1I At each of the last three of these annual conferences, Mr. Frank K. Bell, Alcoa Steamship vice president, presented an address. In them he traced, in most interesting fashion, the historical back- ground of the Caribbean, its people and their origins, and the development of its export trade over the past several centuries. With particular emphasis, he pointed out the manner in which the commerce of the area has been influenced by the ever-changing eras of water transportation, characterized by continuous improve- ments in ship construction and design. Today I would like to add another brief chapter to that series by depicting the role of ship- ping in two-way trade, and what it means to the culture and economy of the United States and the Caribbean. And if, in order to illustrate my remarks, references are made to Alcoa and the a widely acclaimed group of paintings, recently collected and pub- lished in book form as The Flowering Trees of the Caribbean. Currently, Alcoa advertising is associated with art depicting native dances such as the Venezuelan Joropo, the Merengues of the Dominican Republic, and the Tumba of Curagao. In addition, to complement the current program, Alcoa has arranged for the pro- duction of "on-the-spot" recordings of the native music associated with the respective dances, and anyone desiring a recording of Haitian Songs and Drums, or of a Trinidad Calypso and Steel Band, just to mention two, may obtain them from Alcoa. As a still further indication of our company's interest in the peoples of the Caribbean, and as a stimulus to their cultural de- velopment, it plans in the very near future a series of local art contests to be conducted in fourteen separate Caribbean areas, each entry to be confined to a painting relating to that part of the region in which the artist lives. There will be cash prizes for winners at the local level, whose entries then will be sent to New York for additional competition and cash prizes. Ultimately, it is intended that the paintings of the finalists will be featured in future Alcoa advertising. II At each of the last three of these annual conferences, Mr. Frank K. Bell, Alcoa Steamship vice president, presented an address. In them he traced, in most interesting fashion, the historical back- ground of the Caribbean, its people and their origins, and the development of its export trade over the past several centuries. With particular emphasis, he pointed out the manner in which the commerce of the area has been influenced by the ever-changing eras of water transportation, characterized by continuous improve- ments in ship construction and design. Today I would like to add another brief chapter to that series by depicting the role of ship- ping in two-way trade, and what it means to the culture and economy of the United States and the Caribbean. And if, in order to illustrate my remarks, references are made to Alcoa and the a widely acclaimed group of paintings, recently collected and pub- lished in book form as The Flowering Trees of the Caribbean. Currently, Alcoa advertising is associated with art depicting native dances such as the Venezuelan Joropo, the Merengues of the Dominican Republic, and the Tumba of Curagao. In addition, to complement the current program, Alcoa has arranged for the pro- duction of "on-the-spot" recordings of the native music associated with the respective dances, and anyone desiring a recording of Haitian Songs and Drums, or of a Trinidad Calypso and Steel Band, just to mention two, may obtain them from Alcoa. As a still further indication of our company's interest in the peoples of the Caribbean, and as a stimulus to their cultural de- velopment, it plans in the very near future a series of local art contests to be conducted in fourteen separate Caribbean areas, each entry to be confined to a painting relating to that part of the region in which the artist lives. There will be cash prizes for winners at the local level, whose entries then will be sent to New York for additional competition and cash prizes. Ultimately, it is intended that the paintings of the finalists will be featured in future Alcoa advertising. II At each of the last three of these annual conferences, Mr. Frank K. Bell, Alcoa Steamship vice president, presented an address. In them he traced, in most interesting fashion, the historical back- ground of the Caribbean, its people and their origins, and the development of its export trade over the past several centuries. With particular emphasis, he pointed out the manner in which the commerce of the area has been influenced by the ever-changing eras of water transportation, characterized by continuous improve- ments in ship construction and design. Today I would like to add another brief chapter to that series by depicting the role of ship- ping in two-way trade, and what it means to the culture and economy of the United States and the Caribbean. And if, in order to illustrate my remarks, references are made to Alcoa and the  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 179 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 179 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 179 commodities it transports, I hope you will be indulgent with me because, quite naturally, it is the one service with which I have intimate familiarity. Although in recent years the economy of the Caribbean has advanced by leaps and bounds, in the main the individual coun- tries and islands of the area continue to be largely dependent upon the growth and production of a few principal items of export, such as sugar, petroleum, and ores. As a matter of fact, it was due to the abundant availability in Dutch Guiana of bauxite, the ore from which aluminum is smelted, that some thirty years ago Alcoa Steamship Company was born. Initially, the transportation requirements of the infant alumi- num industry were met with vessels of various types and designs, many of them uneconomic, ranging all the way from barges and schooners to steam-propelled vessels. It son became apparent, however, that in order to reduce shipping costs, irrespective of the efficiency of the vessels.as bauxite carriers, they could not be returned southbound light without imposing an increased deliv- ered cost on all of the ore they transported. This is predicated on the fact that it costs almost as much to operate an empty vessel as one fully laden. The consequent evolution, under such circum- stances, should be quite obvious: modern and efficient general cargo and cargo-passenger vessels were placed in service to haul ore northbound, and to compete for the carriage of products of American manufacture and agriculture moving in the opposite direction. Just as bauxite is by far the dominant export of Dutch Guiana -Alcoa takes away a shipload approximately every twenty-four hours-similarly, petroleum constitutes the major export of Ven- ezuela. Whereas bauxite can be carried in conventional types of cargo ships, petroleum requires tankers for its transportation, a vessel limited to the accommodation of liquids. It so happens, however, that the population of Venezuela exceeds by roughly thirty-to-one that of Dutch Guiana, or Surinam as the country is also known, which has some two hundred thousand inhabitants. commodities it transports, I hope you will be indulgent with me because, quite naturally, it is the one service with which I have intimate familiarity. Although in recent years the economy of the Caribbean has advanced by leaps and bounds, in the main the individual coun- tries and islands of the area continue to be largely dependent upon the growth and production of a few principal items of export, such as sugar, petroleum, and ores. As a matter of fact, it was due to the abundant availability in Dutch Guiana of bauxite, the ore from which aluminum is smelted, that some thirty years ago Alcoa Steamship Company was born. Initially, the transportation requirements of the infant alumi- num industry were met with vessels of various types and designs, many of them uneconomic, ranging all the way from barges and schooners to steam-propelled vessels. It sorn became apparent, however, that in order to reduce shipping costs, irrespective of the efficiency of the vessels.as bauxite carriers, they could not be returned southbound light without imposing an increased deliv- ered cost on all of the ore they transported. This is predicated on the fact that it costs almost as much to operate an empty vessel as one fully laden. The consequent evolution, under such circum- stances, should be quite obvious: modern and efficient general cargo and cargo-passenger vessels were placed in service to haul ore northbound, and to compete for the carriage of products of American manufacture and agriculture moving in the opposite direction. Just as bauxite is by far the dominant export of Dutch Guiana -Alcoa takes away a shipload approximately every twenty-four hours-similarly, petroleum constitutes the major export of Ven- ezuela. Whereas bauxite can be carried in conventional types of cargo ships, petroleum requires tankers for its transportation, a vessel limited to the accommodation of liquids. It so happens, however, that the population of Venezuela exceeds by roughly thirty-to-one that of Dutch Guiana, or Surinam as the country is also known, which has some two hundred thousand inhabitants. commodities it transports, I hope you will be indulgent with me because, quite naturally, it is the one service with which I have intimate familiarity. Although in recent years the economy of the Caribbean has advanced by leaps and bounds, in the main the individual coun- tries and islands of the area continue to be largely dependent upon the growth and production of a few principal items of export, such as sugar, petroleum, and ores. As a matter of fact, it was due to the abundant availability in Dutch Guiana of bauxite, the ore from which aluminum is smelted, that some thirty years ago Alcoa Steamship Company was born. Initially, the transportation requirements of the infant alumi- num industry were met with vessels of various types and designs, many of them uneconomic, ranging all the way from barges and schooners to steam-propelled vessels. It soon became apparent, however, that in order to reduce shipping costs, irrespective of the efficiency of the vessels.as bauxite carriers, they could not be returned southbound light without imposing an increased deliv- ered cost on all of the ore they transported. This is predicated on the fact that it costs almost as much to operate an empty vessel as one fully laden. The consequent evolution, under such circum- stances, should be quite obvious: modern and efficient general cargo and cargo-passenger vessels were placed in service to haul ore northbound, and to compete for the carriage of products of American manufacture and agriculture moving in the opposite direction. Just as bauxite is by far the dominant export of Dutch Guiana -Alcoa takes away a shipload approximately every twenty-four hours-similarly, petroleum constitutes the major export of Ven- ezuela. Whereas bauxite can be carried in conventional types of cargo ships, petroleum requires tankers for its transportation, a vessel limited to the accommodation of liquids. It so happens, however, that the population of Venezuela exceeds by roughly thirty-to-one that of Dutch Guiana, or Surinam as the country is also known, which has some two hundred thousand inhabitants.  180 The Caribbean Correspondingly, Venezuela purchases proportionately more from outside sources, and its import market is of equally greater sig- nificance. Yet, as a result of the existence of this seeming jigsaw puzzle situation, it is possible for everyone involved to benefit. United States dollars spent for the purchase of Venezuelan oil and Surinam bauxite provide funds for the purchase and delivery of goods of American origin, the over-all cost of which to the Vene- zuelan and the Surinam importer, owing to the availability of Alcoa ships, is much less than if the tonnage utilized had to return home more or less empty. Similarly, the cost in the United States of articles manufactured from aluminum is less, thanks to the ex- istence of such two-way transportation. In this connection, when one pauses to consider the sizable percentage of the total aluminum production currently required for national defense purposes, as in the construction of military aircraft and the like, it is manifest that the American taxpayers have a big stake in this matter too. Although Venezuela has been selected to illustrate a point, it would be misleading not to mention that important as Venezuelan imports are to the pattern of Alcoa's operations-nearly half of our total southbound cargoes are destined for Venezuelan con- signees-our interest actually is but a single segment when viewed in the over-all scheme of things. I say this because even though Alcoa is providing regularly scheduled sailings to Venezuelan ports at the rate of one hundred and fifty-six per annum, it is but one of seven liner services in operation to Venezuela from the North Atlantic and the Gulf. Moreover, there are almost as many lines serving Venezuela from United States Pacific Coast ports. However vital shipping may seem to those of us associated with the industry, in the final analysis it is only a tool of something very much larger and far more important-international trade. But, like shipping-with which it is so intimately associated-if it is to survive it must be a two-way street. Unless we buy, we cannot hope to sell. That is why, today, with so many American jobs and such vast investments dependent either directly or indi- rectly upon foreign trade, there is an ever-growing awareness that 180 The Caribbean 180 The Caribbean Correspondingly, Venezuela purchases proportionately more from outside sources, and its import market is of equally greater sig- nificance. Yet, as a result of the existence of this seeming jigsaw puzzle situation, it is possible for everyone involved to benefit. United States dollars spent for the purchase of Venezuelan oil and Surinam bauxite provide funds for the purchase and delivery of goods of American origin, the over-all cost of which to the Vene- zuelan and the Surinam importer, owing to the availability of Alcoa ships, is much less than if the tonnage utilized had to return home more or less empty. Similarly, the cost in the United States of articles manufactured from aluminum is less, thanks to the ex- istence of such two-way transportation. In this connection, when one pauses to consider the sizable percentage of the total aluminum production currently required for national defense purposes, as in the construction of military aircraft and the like, it is manifest that the American taxpayers have a big stake in this matter too. Although Venezuela has been selected to illustrate a point, it would be misleading not to mention that important as Venezuelan imports are to the pattern of Alcoa's operations-nearly half of our total southbound cargoes are destined for Venezuelan con- signees-our interest actually is but a single segment when viewed in the over-all scheme of things. I say this because even though Alcoa is providing regularly scheduled sailings to Venezuelan ports at the rate of one hundred and fifty-six per annum, it is but one of seven liner services in operation to Venezuela from the North Atlantic and the Gulf. Moreover, there are almost as many lines serving Venezuela from United States Pacific Coast ports. However vital shipping may seem to those of us associated with the industry, in the final analysis it is only a tool of something very much larger and far more important-international trade. But, like shipping-with which it is so intimately associated-if it is to survive it must be a two-way street. Unless we buy, we cannot hope to sell. That is why, today, with so many American jobs and such vast investments dependent either directly or indi- rectly upon foreign trade, there is an ever-growing awareness that Correspondingly, Venezuela purchases proportionately more from outside sources, and its import market is of equally greater sig- nificance. Yet, as a result of the existence of this seeming jigsaw puzzle situation, it is possible for everyone involved to benefit. United States dollars spent for the purchase of Venezuelan oil and Surinam bauxite provide funds for the purchase and delivery of goods of American origin, the over-all cost of which to the Vene- zuelan and the Surinam importer, owing to the availability of Alcoa ships, is much less than if the tonnage utilized had to return home more or less empty. Similarly, the cost in the United States of articles manufactured from aluminum is less, thanks to the ex- istence of such two-way transportation. In this connection, when one pauses to consider the sizable percentage of the total aluminum production currently required for national defense purposes, as in the construction of military aircraft and the like, it is manifest that the American taxpayers have a big stake in this matter too. Although Venezuela has been selected to illustrate a point, it would be misleading not to mention that important as Venezuelan imports are to the pattern of Alcoa's operations-nearly half of our total southbound cargoes are destined for Venezuelan con- signees-our interest actually is but a single segment when viewed in the over-all scheme of things. I say this because even though Alcoa is providing regularly scheduled sailings to Venezuelan ports at the rate of one hundred and fifty-six per annum, it is but one of seven liner services in operation to Venezuela from the North Atlantic and the Gulf. Moreover, there are almost as many lines serving Venezuela from United States Pacific Coast ports. However vital shipping may seem to those of us associated with the industry, in the final analysis it is only a tool of something very much larger and far more important-international trade. But, like shipping-with which it is so intimately associated-if it is to survive it must be a two-way street. Unless we buy, we cannot hope to sell. That is why, today, with so many American jobs and such vast investments dependent either directly or indi- rectly upon foreign trade, there is an ever-growing awareness that  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 181 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 181 CULTURAL CONCEPTS domestic import restrictions which might benefit a few could destroy proportionately more here at home, besides causing the loss of friends and customers abroad. And repetitious as this may be, in any instance where a country's opportunity to earn dollars is curtailed, among the first to feel the results of the inevitable dislocation are the shipping companies customarily serving it. Thus it was not altogether altruistic that last year Alcoa joined a number of the major American oil companies and countless domestic exporters in voicing vigorous opposition to proposed leg- islation designed to limit the importation of certain petroleum products. The measure, I am happy to say, was defeated, for had it been enacted, it would have had a crippling effect on the pur- chasing power of Venezuela, America's third largest customer in the Western Hemisphere, with annual purchases from us totaling roughly half a billion dollars. In this connection, I believe it might be appropriate to point out that Venezuela, in addition to paying dollars for everything it buys in the United States, has neither received nor sought any sort of assistance or grants, a bit of a rarity in this day and age. Furthermore, should we close our doors to Venezuela's petroleum, upon which so much of its econ- omy is dependent, the countries supplanting us as its purchasers would quickly replace us as the vendors of the commodities now bought here. Carrying these thoughts to a final conclusion-and here again I am about to inject the shipping industry into the picture-should that occur, ships flying other flags would take over very quickly much of the business American operators now enjoy. There exists still another very important consideration which must be taken into account in any examination of the role Alcoa's vessels play-their value to the United States. Congress, in the Merchant Marine Act of 1936, stated as a declaration of policy, among other things, that "it is necessary for the national defense and the development of its foreign and domestic commerce that the United States shall have a merchant marine (a) sufficient to carry . . . a substantial portion of the waterborne export and domestic import restrictions which might benefit a few could destroy proportionately more here at home, besides causing the loss of friends and customers abroad. And repetitious as this may be, in any instance where a country's opportunity to earn dollars is curtailed, among the first to feel the results of the inevitable dislocation are the shipping companies customarily serving it. Thus it was not altogether altruistic that last year Alcoa joined a number of the major American oil companies and countless domestic exporters in voicing vigorous opposition to proposed leg- islation designed to limit the importation of certain petroleum products. The measure, I am happy to say, was defeated, for had it been enacted, it would have had a crippling effect on the pur- chasing power of Venezuela, America's third largest customer in the Western Hemisphere, with annual purchases from us totaling roughly half a billion dollars. In this connection, I believe it might be appropriate to point out that Venezuela, in addition to paying dollars for everything it buys in the United States, has neither received nor sought any sort of assistance or grants, a bit of a rarity in this day and age. Furthermore, should we close our doors to Venezuela's petroleum, upon which so much of its econ- omy is dependent, the countries supplanting us as its purchasers would quickly replace us as the vendors of the commodities now bought here. Carrying these thoughts to a final conclusion-and here again I am about to inject the shipping industry into the picture-should that occur, ships flying other flags would take over very quickly much of the business American operators now enjoy. There exists still another very important consideration which must be taken into account in any examination of the role Alcoa's vessels play-their value to the United States. Congress, in the Merchant Marine Act of 1936, stated as a declaration of policy, among other things, that "it is necessary for the national defense and the development of its foreign and domestic commerce that the United States shall have a merchant marine (a) sufficient to carry . . . a substantial portion of the waterborne export and domestic import restrictions which might benefit a few could destroy proportionately more here at home, besides causing the loss of friends and customers abroad. And repetitious as this may be, in any instance where a country's opportunity to earn dollars is curtailed, among the first to feel the results of the inevitable dislocation are the shipping companies customarily serving it. Thus it was not altogether altruistic that last year Alcoa joined a number of the major American oil companies and countless domestic exporters in voicing vigorous opposition to proposed leg- islation designed to limit the importation of certain petroleum products. The measure, I am happy to say, was defeated, for had it been enacted, it would have had a crippling effect on the pur- chasing power of Venezuela, America's third largest customer in the Western Hemisphere, with annual purchases from us totaling roughly half a billion dollars. In this connection, I believe it might be appropriate to point out that Venezuela, in addition to paying dollars for everything it buys in the United States, has neither received nor sought any sort of assistance or grants, a bit of a rarity in this day and age. Furthermore, should we close our doors to Venezuela's petroleum, upon which so much of its econ- omy is dependent, the countries supplanting us as its purchasers would quickly replace us as the vendors of the commodities now bought here. Carrying these thoughts to a final conclusion-and here again I am about to inject the shipping industry into the picture-should that occur, ships flying other flags would take over very quickly much of the business American operators now enjoy. There exists still another very important consideration which must be taken into account in any examination of the role Alcoa's vessels play-their value to the United States. Congress, in the Merchant Marine Act of 1936, stated as a declaration of policy, among other things, that "it is necessary for the national defense and the development of its foreign and domestic commerce that the United States shall have a merchant marine (a) sufficient to carry . . . a substantial portion of the waterborne export and  182 The Caribbean import foreign commerce of the United States . . . (b) capable of serving as a naval and military auxiliary in time of war or national emergency...." It is well recognized that the cost of operating American flag vessels is virtually double that of the average of other maritime nations. This is occasioned, for the most part, by the higher rate of wages paid American seagoing personnel. While some fifteen well-known American shipping companies are receiving financial operating assistance from the government, Alcoa is not one of them. Instead, it continues to depend solely upon the revenues it is able to earn by engaging in two-way trade. In other words, even though Alcoa's ships are just as modern and equally as well maintained as are the ships of those concerns receiving operating subsidy assistance, the continuous availability of Alcoa's vessels for purposes of national defense is being accomplished without cost to the taxpayers. Conversely, if revenues earned from transportation services predicated upon a two-way haul are mate- rially reduced, the immediate readiness of a number of modern vessels for purposes of national defense may be threatened. The lessons learned from two world wars with respect to the indispensability of merchant ships are so well known they scarcely bear repeating. On both occasions the tempo of our warmaking potential, as well as our ability to confine hostilities to other lands, was geared to the initial availability of merchant tonnage and our ability to supplement it through feverish and costly shipbuilding programs. It follows that, like a fire department, the ships of America's Merchant Marine must be on a twenty-four hour alert, ready to help put out any blaze, large or small, any time, any- where. Quite recently, the Honorable Charles S. Thomas, Secre- tary of the Navy, in an address before the Massachusetts Maritime Academy, summed up the problem most succinctly in these few words: "As Secretary of the Navy, it is my earnest opinion that we cannot allow our Merchant Marine to approach disuse and decay on the grounds that we can trust to luck and improvise to meet our next emergency as we did in World War I and World 182 The Caribbean 182 The Caribbean import foreign commerce of the United States . . . (b) capable of serving as a naval and military auxiliary in time of war or national emergency... ." It is well recognized that the cost of operating American flag vessels is virtually double that of the average of other maritime nations. This is occasioned, for the most part, by the higher rate of wages paid American seagoing personnel. While some fifteen well-known American shipping companies are receiving financial operating assistance from the government, Alcoa is not one of them. Instead, it continues to depend solely upon the revenues it is able to earn by engaging in two-way trade. In other words, even though Alcoa's ships are just as modern and equally as well maintained as are the ships of those concerns receiving operating subsidy assistance, the continuous availability of Alcoa's vessels for purposes of national defense is being accomplished without cost to the taxpayers. Conversely, if revenues earned from transportation services predicated upon a two-way haul are mate- rially reduced, the immediate readiness of a number of modern vessels for purposes of national defense may be threatened. The lessons learned from two world wars with respect to the indispensability of merchant ships are so well known they scarcely bear repeating. On both occasions the tempo of our warmaking potential, as well as our ability to confine hostilities to other lands, was geared to the initial availability of merchant tonnage and our ability to supplement it through feverish and costly shipbuilding programs. It follows that, like a fire department, the ships of America's Merchant Marine must be on a twenty-four hour alert, ready to help put out any blaze, large or small, any time, any- where. Quite recently, the Honorable Charles S. Thomas, Secre- tary of the Navy, in an address before the Massachusetts Maritime Academy, summed up the problem most succinctly in these few words: "As Secretary of the Navy, it is my earnest opinion that we cannot allow our Merchant Marine to approach disuse and decay on the grounds that we can trust to luck and improvise to meet our next emergency as we did in World War I and World import foreign commerce of the United States . . . (b) capable of serving as a naval and military auxiliary in time of war or national emergency...." It is well recognized that the cost of operating American flag vessels is virtually double that of the average of other maritime nations. This is occasioned, for the most part, by the higher rate of wages paid American seagoing personnel. While some fifteen well-known American shipping companies are receiving financial operating assistance from the government, Alcoa is not one of them. Instead, it continues to depend solely upon the revenues it is able to earn by engaging in two-way trade. In other words, even though Alcoa's ships are just as modern and equally as well maintained as are the ships of those concerns receiving operating subsidy assistance, the continuous availability of Alcoa's vessels for purposes of national defense is being accomplished without cost to the taxpayers. Conversely, if revenues earned from transportation services predicated upon a two-way haul are mate- rially reduced, the immediate readiness of a number of modern vessels for purposes of national defense may be threatened. The lessons learned from two world wars with respect to the indispensability of merchant ships are so well known they scarcely bear repeating. On both occasions the tempo of our warmaking potential, as well as our ability to confine hostilities to other lands, was geared to the initial availability of merchant tonnage and our ability to supplement it through feverish and costly shipbuilding programs. It follows that, like a fire department, the ships of America's Merchant Marine must be on a twenty-four hour alert, ready to help put out any blaze, large or small, any time, any- where. Quite recently, the Honorable Charles S. Thomas, Secre- tary of the Navy, in an address before the Massachusetts Maritime Academy, summed up the problem most succinctly in these few words: "As Secretary of the Navy, it is my earnest opinion that we cannot allow our Merchant Marine to approach disuse and decay on the grounds that we can trust to luck and improvise to meet our next emergency as we did in World War I and World  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 183 War II. There will not be time, if general war breaks out again, to resurrect a merchant marine. Our survival will be vitally de- pendent upon the merchant shipping which is available during that critical initial period." Although we must, therefore, be ever vigilant, as all the world should know, America neither seeks nor desires dominion over the lands or lives of others. On the contrary, the record is replete with manifestations of our willingness and desire to share our strength and wealth in the protection and advancement of others. But along with strength, there must be understanding and re- sponsibility; and one's first responsibility is to his friends and neighbors. The peoples of the Caribbean are both friends and neighbors, and it is hoped that, through a better understanding of their culture and of their needs and aspirations, we of the United States may assist them in a variety of ways. CULTURAL CONCEPTS 183 War II. There will not be time, if general war breaks out again, to resurrect a merchant marine. Our survival will be vitally de- pendent upon the merchant shipping which is available during that critical initial period." Although we must, therefore, be ever vigilant, as all the world should know, America neither seeks nor desires dominion over the lands or lives of others. On the contrary, the record is replete with manifestations of our willingness and desire to share our strength and wealth in the protection and advancement of others. But along with strength, there must be understanding and re- sponsibility; and one's first responsibility is to his friends and neighbors. The peoples of the Caribbean are both friends and neighbors, and it is hoped that, through a better understanding of their culture and of their needs and aspirations, we of the United States may assist them in a variety of ways. CULTURAL CONCEPTS 183 War II. There will not be time, if general war breaks out again, to resurrect a merchant marine. Our survival will be vitally de- pendent upon the merchant shipping which is available during that critical initial period." Although we must, therefore, be ever vigilant, as all the world should know, America neither seeks nor desires dominion over the lands or lives of others. On the contrary, the record is replete with manifestations of our willingness and desire to share our strength and wealth in the protection and advancement of others. But along with strength, there must be understanding and re- sponsibility; and one's first responsibility is to his friends and neighbors. The peoples of the Caribbean are both friends and neighbors, and it is hoped that, through a better understanding of their culture and of their needs and aspirations, we of the United States may assist them in a variety of ways.  Jorge Fidel Dur6On: CULTURE AND THE ECONOMY IN HONDURAS HONDURAS, LIKE MOST COUNTRIES, seems at times a paradox, and, likewise, offers many paradoxes. The paradox may apply and sometimes does apply with equal force and certainty to the rest of the Central American republics. I suppose this is natural. The phenomenon of Honduras, with small variants, also is much the same as that of the other American republics. The his- tory of Honduras, and the history of her development culturally, politically, economically, is the history of her people, the sum of their virtues, and the dull narrative of their shortcomings, of their vision or their shortsightedness. In the last analysis, her reality is the sum total of her geographical position. I am certain you have heard this before, for there is nothing new in this concept. But I am reiterating it because I feel that, in our special case, it requires reiteration for the interpretation of our reality. Let us go into this point a little more. For instance, the first impression gathered by a foreigner who comes to live in our midst is the simplicity of our people, our aloofness at first, later our reticence, finally our congeniality, our frankness, and our sense of hospitality. You may say: but all this applies almost to any people Jorge Fidel Durn: CULTURE AND THE ECONOMY IN HONDURAS HONDURAS, LIKE MOST COUNTRIES, seems at times a paradox, and, likewise, offers many paradoxes. The paradox may apply and sometimes does apply with equal force and certainty to the rest of the Central American republics. I suppose this is natural. The phenomenon of Honduras, with small variants, also is much the same as that of the other American republics. The his- tory of Honduras, and the history of her development culturally, politically, economically, is the history of her people, the sum of their virtues, and the dull narrative of their shortcomings, of their vision or their shortsightedness. In the last analysis, her reality is the sum total of her geographical position. I am certain you have heard this before, for there is nothing new in this concept. But I am reiterating it because I feel that, in our special case, it requires reiteration for the interpretation of our reality. Let us go into this point a little more. For instance, the first impression gathered by a foreigner who comes to live in our midst is the simplicity of our people, our aloofness at first, later our reticence, finally our congeniality, our frankness, and our sense of hospitality. You may say: but all this applies almost to any people 184 16 Jorge Fidel Dur6n: CULTURE AND THE ECONOMY IN HONDURAS HONDURAS, LIKE MOST COUNTRIES, seems at times a paradox, and, likewise, offers many paradoxes. The paradox may apply and sometimes does apply with equal force and certainty to the rest of the Central American republics. I suppose this is natural. The phenomenon of Honduras, with small variants, also is much the same as that of the other American republics. The his- tory of Honduras, and the history of her development culturally, politically, economically, is the history of her people, the sum of their virtues, and the dull narrative of their shortcomings, of their vision or their shortsightedness. In the last analysis, her reality is the sum total of her geographical position. I am certain you have heard this before, for there is nothing new in this concept. But I am reiterating it because I feel that, in our special case, it requires reiteration for the interpretation of our reality. Let us go into this point a little more. For instance, the first impression gathered by a foreigner who comes to live in our midst is the simplicity of our people, our aloofness at first, later our reticence, finally our congeniality, our frankness, and our sense of hospitality. You may say: but all this applies almost to any people 184  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 185 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 185 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 185 on earth. Perhaps this is true. But let me give you another ex- ample. Once I had an interview with the former chief of state of a very progressive Central American country. Vehemently, I ex- pressed my admiration for his country in the most vivid colors, with the warmest vocabulary I could command, backing my argu- ments with sound reasons. I meant what I was saying, and he understood me perfectly. He heard me quietly, and this was his answer: "My dear friend, many thanks! As for myself, allow me to tell you that I feel the same admiration for Honduras. Mind you, even if I am considered a statesman, I am being overesti- mated. What I am, truly, is a politician. Now, let me tell you what I admire in your people. Whenever you are not pleased with your government you are courageous enough to go out in the fields, you overthrow it and get yourselves a new one. As I say, you go and do it out in the open, face to the sky. On the contrary, as you well know, we do it in another way, resorting to a series of coups-and our history is full of them." These were his words, more or less. The very things for which at home we criticize our- selves were the object of his admiration in an amazing contrast. But, let me give you still another illustration. This time it was in a conversation with a chief of state of another Central American country, who was in his high office at the time. This is, more or less, the gist of what he told me when I went to say good-by: "I want you to go with this impression: I am happy to tell you that, at last, my countrymen are learning some of the virtues of your countrymen. I want you to know that I am sensing in them more frankness, more sincerity, more honesty." He could not have paid us a better compliment, even at the risk of belittling his own fellowmen. Of course, I could have taken much of this as mere politeness, but to tell the truth, there was not a real reason for it. In both cases, we were alone; both men, being in exalted positions, could expect nothing in return from me, theirs being the leading states in Central America. The fact I drew out was that both had made an important appraisal of my country. on earth. Perhaps this is true. But let me give you another ex- ample. Once I had an interview with the former chief of state of a very progressive Central American country. Vehemently, I ex- pressed my admiration for his country in the most vivid colors, with the warmest vocabulary I could command, backing my argu- ments with sound reasons. I meant what I was saying, and he understood me perfectly. He heard me quietly, and this was his answer: "My dear friend, many thanks! As for myself, allow me to tell you that I feel the same admiration for Honduras. Mind you, even if I am considered a statesman, I am being overesti- mated. What I am, truly, is a politician. Now, let me tell you what I admire in your people. Whenever you are not pleased with your government you are courageous enough to go out in the fields, you overthrow it and get yourselves a new one. As I say, you go and do it out in the open, face to the sky. On the contrary, as you well know, we do it in another way, resorting to a series of coups-and our history is full of them." These were his words, more or less. The very things for which at home we criticize our- selves were the object of his admiration in an amazing contrast. But, let me give you still another illustration. This time it was in a conversation with a chief of state of another Central American country, who was in his high office at the time. This is, more or less, the gist of what he told me when I went to say good-by: "I want you to go with this impression: I am happy to tell you that, at last, my countrymen are learning some of the virtues of your countrymen. I want you to know that I am sensing in them more frankness, more sincerity, more honesty." He could not have paid us a better compliment, even at the risk of belittling his own fellowmen. Of course, I could have taken much of this as mere politeness, but to tell the truth, there was not a real reason for it. In both cases, we were alone; both men, being in exalted positions, could expect nothing in return from me, theirs being the leading states in Central America. The fact I drew out was that both had made an important appraisal of my country. on earth. Perhaps this is true. But let me give you another ex- ample. Once I had an interview with the former chief of state of a very progressive Central American country. Vehemently, I ex- pressed my admiration for his country in the most vivid colors, with the warmest vocabulary I could command, backing my argu- ments with sound reasons. I meant what I was saying, and he understood me perfectly. He heard me quietly, and this was his answer: "My dear friend, many thanks! As for myself, allow me to tell you that I feel the same admiration for Honduras. Mind you, even if I am considered a statesman, I am being overesti- mated. What I am, truly, is a politician. Now, let me tell you what I admire in your people. Whenever you are not pleased with your government you are courageous enough to go out in the fields, you overthrow it and get yourselves a new one. As I say, you go and do it out in the open, face to the sky. On the contrary, as you well know, we do it in another way, resorting to a series of coups-and our history is full of them." These were his words, more or less. The very things for which at home we criticize our- selves were the object of his admiration in an amazing contrast. But, let me give you still another illustration. This time it was in a conversation with a chief of state of another Central American country, who was in his high office at the time. This is, more or less, the gist of what he told me when I went to say good-by: "I want you to go with this impression: I am happy to tell you that, at last, my countrymen are learning some of the virtues of your countrymen. I want you to know that I am sensing in them more frankness, more sincerity, more honesty." He could not have paid us a better compliment, even at the risk of belittling his own fellowmen. Of course, I could have taken much of this as mere politeness, but to tell the truth, there was not a real reason for it. In both cases, we were alone; both men, being in exalted positions, could expect nothing in return from me, theirs being the leading states in Central America. The fact I drew out was that both had made an important appraisal of my country.  186 The Caribbean 186 The Caribbean 186 The Caribbean In a lighter vein, I was to have a similar experience with a famous North American economist while trying to explain to him certain financial conditions in my country. He is a man well known in Europe and in some South American countries for, before Technical Assistance ever appeared on the scene, he was the author of several ambitious plans named after him. He was at a loss to understand the reluctance of Honduran officials charged at the time with the conduct of our financial policy. They had flatly refused to accept grants-in-aid, loans, or subsidies, thus launching without knowing it the beginning of what is now known as the trade, not aid policy. "Our government [I volunteered to explain] is trying to avail itself of our own resources to develop the country. We have not had much luck with previous loans. And, even if it is true that we do not have your country's abun- dance, the policy is working out well and, by meeting our obliga- tions abroad, our credit is better than it has been for many years." He laughed, and jestingly he said: "Then you really do not need me. Perhaps it would be better if Honduras were to lend to those who support such a sound policy and show other parts of the world how to run things with sanity." But perhaps, in order better to visualize the above picture, you must remember that our country, with limited, moderate means, has moderate and limited tastes. Our austerity arises out of a nearly primitive economy which is emerging slowly and painfully from such primitiveness. However, our currency is sound, and has been sound for years. But you also should remember that the budget of one of your cities, or of some of your private or public corporations, is larger than ours. Our budget for last year, for instance, amounted to only a little over twenty-eight million dollars. II It is not my intention to impress upon you that everything is in order at home, that all is going well, or that it always has been that way. On the contrary, comparing the latent potentialities of the In a lighter vein, I was to have a similar experience with a famous North American economist while trying to explain to him certain financial conditions in my country. He is a man well known in Europe and in some South American countries for, before Technical Assistance ever appeared on the scene, he was the author of several ambitious plans named after him. He was at a loss to understand the reluctance of Honduran officials charged at the time with the conduct of our financial policy. They had flatly refused to accept grants-in-aid, loans, or subsidies, thus launching without knowing it the beginning of what is now known as the trade, not aid policy. "Our government [I volunteered to explain] is trying to avail itself of our own resources to develop the country. We have not had much luck with previous loans. And, even if it is true that we do not have your country's abun- dance, the policy is working out well and, by meeting our obliga- tions abroad, our credit is better than it has been for many years." He laughed, and jestingly he said: "Then you really do not need me. Perhaps it would be better if Honduras were to lend to those who support such a sound policy and show other parts of the world how to run things with sanity." But perhaps, in order better to visualize the above picture, you must remember that our country, with limited, moderate means, has moderate and limited tastes. Our austerity arises out of a nearly primitive economy which is emerging slotvly and painfully from such primitiveness. However, our currency is sound, and has been sound for years. But you also should remember that the budget of one of your cities, or of some of your private or public corporations, is larger than ours. Our budget for last year, for instance, amounted to only a little over twenty-eight million dollars. It It is not my intention to impress upon you that everything is in order at home, that all is going well, or that it always has been that way. On the contrary, comparing the latent potentialities of the In a lighter vein, I was to have a similar experience with a famous North American economist while trying to explain to him certain financial conditions in my country. He is a man well knownin Europe and in some South American countries for, before Technical Assistance ever appeared on the scene, he was the author of several ambitious plans named after him. He was at a loss to understand the reluctance of Honduran officials charged at the time with the conduct of our financial policy. They had flatly refused to accept grants-in-aid, loans, or subsidies, thus launching without knowing it the beginning of what is now known as the trade, not aid policy. "Our government [I volunteered to explain] is trying to avail itself of our own resources to develop the country. We have not had much luck with previous loans. And, even if it is true that we do not have your country's abun- dance, the policy is working out well and, by meeting our obliga- tions abroad, our credit is better than it has been for many years." He laughed, and jestingly he said: "Then you really do not need me. Perhaps it would be better if Honduras were to lend to those who support such a sound policy and show other parts of the world how to run things with sanity." But perhaps, in order better to visualize the above picture, you must remember that our country, with limited, moderate means, has moderate and limited tastes. Our austerity arises out of a nearly primitive economy which is emerging slowly and painfully from such primitiveness. However, our currency is sound, and has been sound for years. But you also should remember that the budget of one of your cities, or of some of your private or public corporations, is larger than ours. Our budget for last year, for instance, amounted to only a little over twenty-eight million dollars. II It is not my intention to impress upon you that everything is in order at home, that all is going well, or that it always has been that way. On the contrary, comparing the latent potentialities of the  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 187 country, the sparse population of one and a half million inhabi- tants, it is my opinion that, properly ruled, Honduras could be easily transformed into a model country. However, we have chosen to live an agitated life of political turmoil where even the best intentions are shattered, where a mere handful have taken advantage of conditions and thrived, and where we have been un- fortunately the pawn of extraneous political, economic, and com- mercial forces, principally at the hands of more dexterous and better-organized neighbors. Actually, if we were to search for an explanation, looking for the source of the evils of our past, we would find that in most of our internal strife there was a small percentage of internal factors, and that overwhelming external pressures have played a part in our destiny. Politically, economically, and militarily speaking, Honduras was part and parcel of the Captaincy General of Guatemala. The lines of jurisdiction of this governorship were followed when we became independent from Spain and later federated with the four other Central American states from 1821 to 1842. It is interesting to observe that after independence the leading figures of the new country came mainly from Honduras: Valle, Morazan, Lindo Herrera, Rivera, and others occupied key posts across the length and breadth of its territory. The federation broken, the independent and sovereign state of Honduras sought to stimulate its progress and expansion, entering into immediate negotiation to obtain a loan in Europe and build what would have been the first interoceanic railway across its ter- ritory. The country had just recently regained part of its territory, illegally retained and occupied by Great Britain, and was economi- cally solvent enough to bargain for a loan of six million pounds sterling. Do not overlook the fact that for years the dream of a canal connecting the Atlantic with the Pacific had been foremost in the minds of explorers, conquerors, and statesmen, so much so that other negotiations were simultaneously under way in other parts of the continent for the construction of such a route. I believe that the success of such a grandiose plan would have CULTURAL CONCEPTS 187 country, the sparse population of one and a half million inhabi- tants, it is my opinion that, properly ruled, Honduras could be easily transformed into a model country. However, we have chosen to live an agitated life of political turmoil where even the best intentions are shattered, where a mere handful have taken advantage of conditions and thrived, and where we have been un- fortunately the pawn of extraneous political, economic, and com- mercial forces, principally at the hands of more dexterous and better-organized neighbors. Actually, if we were to search for an explanation, looking for the source of the evils of our past, we would find that in most of our internal strife there was a small percentage of internal factors, and that overwhelming external pressures have played a part in our destiny. Politically, economically, and militarily speaking, Honduras was part and parcel of the Captaincy General of Guatemala. The lines of jurisdiction of this governorship were followed when we became independent from Spain and later federated with the four other Central American states from 1821 to 1842. It is interesting to observe that after independence the leading figures of the new country came mainly from Honduras: Valle, Morazin, Lindo Herrera, Rivera, and others occupied key posts across the length and breadth of its territory. The federation broken, the independent and sovereign state of Honduras sought to stimulate its progress and expansion, entering into immediate negotiation to obtain a loan in Europe and build what would have been the first interoceanic railway across its ter- ritory. The country had just recently regained part of its territory, illegally retained and occupied by Great Britain, and was economi- cally solvent enough to bargain for a loan of six million pounds sterling. Do not overlook the fact that for years the dream of a canal connecting the Atlantic with the Pacific had been foremost in the minds of explorers, conquerors, and statesmen, so much so that other negotiations were simultaneously under way in other parts of the continent for the construction of such a route. I believe that the success of such a grandiose plan would have CULTURAL CONCEPTS 187 country, the sparse population of one and a half million inhabi- tants, it is my opinion that, properly ruled, Honduras could be easily transformed into a model country. However, we have chosen to live an agitated life of political turmoil where even the best intentions are shattered, where a mere handful have taken advantage of conditions and thrived, and where we have been un- fortunately the pawn of extraneous political, economic, and com- mercial forces, principally at the hands of more dexterous and better-organized neighbors. Actually, if we were to search for an explanation, looking for the source of the evils of our past, we wold find that in most of our internal strife there was a small percentage of internal factors, and that overwhelming external pressures have played a part in our destiny. Politically, economically, and militarily speaking, Honduras was part and parcel of the Captaincy General of Guatemala. The lines of jurisdiction of this governorship were followed when we became independent from Spain and later federated with the four other Central American states from 1821 to 1842. It is interesting to observe that after independence the leading figures of the new country came mainly from Honduras: Valle, Morazdn, Lindo Herrera, Rivera, and others occupied key posts across the length and breadth of its territory. The federation broken, the independent and sovereign state of Honduras sought to stimulate its progress and expansion, entering into immediate negotiation to obtain a loan in Europe and build what would have been the first interoceanic railway across its ter- ritory. The country had just recently regained part of its territory, illegally retained and occupied by Great Britain, and was economi- cally solvent enough to bargain for a loan of six million pounds sterling. Do not overlook the fact that for years the dream of a canal connecting the Atlantic with the Pacific had been foremost in the minds of explorers, conquerors, and statesmen, so much so that other negotiations were simultaneously under way in other parts of the continent for the construction of such a route. I believe that the success of such a grandiose plan would have  188 The Caribbean given Honduras, since the early days of 1840's, a predominant role in the center of America-success which undoubtedly would have resulted in the early development, expansion, and settlement of the country, the reasonable and scientific exploitation of her natural resources, and, in the end, wealth and prosperity. It is now elementary history that such an effort was thwarted and looked upon with disfavor by other nations. With internal help, never lacking in such emergencies, the plan was made nugatory and all elements of insight and sagacity were employed until the complete rosy scheme was frustrated, leaving the country with a mere 53 miles of track, the disastrous seeds of a perennial civil war, and an enormous public debt, which was not settled until 1926 and which took us some eighty-eight years to pay in full. As a result, to this day Honduras lacks such a railroad line-for which she could have well paid with the money obtained but which was kept by unscrupulous agents. Despite many later efforts, one of which even found form in a constitutional provision, her picturesque mountain capital, Tegucigalpa, is not yet served by a railroad. From the above, it is clear that it was not for lack of imagina- tion on the part of our early leaders that we failed in an idea which you here in North America naturally coupled with your Western colonial expansion of the last century, and which was copied from Mexico southward. It is not my intention to burden you with statistical data which may be obtained easily by consulting official papers and reports. My main purpose is to give you a panoramic view of social, eco- nomic, and cultural development in Honduras in the light of present-day events. My over-all objective is to justify the past by explaining the present and, in passing, also try to develop interest in a country which, besides being your near neighbor, falls within the sphere of your possible commercial and industrial attractions. Honduras to this day has never engaged in policies that may en- danger badly needed foreign investments, and consequentially it may well play an important role in future relations with the State of Florida. 188 The Caribbean given Honduras, since the early days of 1840's, a predominant role in the center of America-success which undoubtedly would have resulted in the early development, expansion, and settlement of the country, the reasonable and scientific exploitation of her natural resources, and, in the end, wealth and prosperity. It is now elementary history that such an effort was thwarted and looked upon with disfavor by other nations. With internal help, never lacking in such emergencies, the plan was made nugatory and all elements of insight and sagacity were employed until the complete rosy scheme was frustrated, leaving the country with a mere 53 miles of track, the disastrous seeds of a perennial civil war, and an enormous public debt, which was not settled until 1926 and which took us some eighty-eight years to pay in full. As a result, to this day Honduras lacks such a railroad line-for which she could have well paid with the money obtained but which was kept by unscrupulous agents. Despite many later efforts, one of which even found form in a constitutional provision, her picturesque mountain capital, Tegucigalpa, is not yet served by a railroad. From the above, it is clear that it was not for lack of imagina- tion on the part of our early leaders that we failed in an idea which you here in North America naturally coupled with your Western colonial expansion of the last century, and which was copied from Mexico southward. It is not my intention to burden you with statistical data which may be obtained easily by consulting official papers and reports. My main purpose is to give you a panoramic view of social, eco- nomic, and cultural development in Honduras in the light of present-day events. My over-all objective is to justify the past by explaining the present and, in passing, also try to develop interest in a country which, besides being your near neighbor, falls within the sphere of your possible commercial and industrial attractions. Honduras to this day has never engaged in policies that may en- danger badly needed foreign investments, and consequentially it may well play an important role in future relations with the State of Florida. 188 The Caribbean given Honduras, since the early days of 1840's, a predominant role in the center of America-success which undoubtedly would have resulted in the early development, expansion, and settlement of the country, the reasonable and scientific exploitation of her natural resources, and, in the end, wealth and prosperity. It is now elementary history that such an effort was thwarted and looked upon with disfavor by other nations. With internal help, never lacking in such emergencies, the plan was made nugatory and all elements of insight and sagacity were employed until the complete rosy scheme was frustrated, leaving the country with a mere 53 miles of track, the disastrous seeds of a perennial civil war, and an enormous public debt, which was not settled until 1926 and which took us some eighty-eight years to pay in full. As a result, to this day Honduras lacks such a railroad line-for which she could have well paid with the money obtained but which was kept by unscrupulous agents. Despite many later efforts, one of which even found form in a constitutional provision, her picturesque mountain capital, Tegucigalpa, is not yet served by a railroad. From the above, it is clear that it was not for lack of imagina- tion on the part of our early leaders that we failed in an idea which you here in North America naturally coupled with your Western colonial expansion of the last century, and which was copied from Mexico southward. It is not my intention to burden you with statistical data which may be obtained easily by consulting official papers and reports. My main purpose is to give you a panoramic view of social, eco- nomic, and cultural development in Honduras in the light of present-day events. My over-all objective is to justify the past by explaining the present and, in passing, also try to develop interest in a country which, besides being your near neighbor, falls within the sphere of your possible commercial and industrial attractions. Honduras to this day has never engaged in policies that may en- danger badly needed foreign investments, and consequentially it may well play an important role in future relations with the State of Florida.  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 189 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 189 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 189 One thing is basic: ours is strictly an agricultural economy. For centuries we were deluded into the belief that our mineral re- sources were inexhaustible and would make all of us wealthy. Even a phrase was coined in the days of the advanced reform government of President Marco Aurelio Soto: "Honduras is plenti- ful in gold and talent." In Spanish, ours was the "patria del oro y del talento cuna." Many fell for the phrase, took it at face value for the truth, and went to sleep. But the whole thing did not go beyond the happy realm of a phrase. Still, poets and storytellers wrote legends about rivers that carried gold nuggets. The Guayape River was one among many of such rivers, and many of my countrymen went into primitive placer mining as some of you go angling for fish and daydreaming in the summer. Gold even found a place in the epic writings of Francisco Morazan, our greatest hero and statesman, when, refusing the dictatorship offered him in Guatemala by the Conservative Party, he solemnly declared: "My democratic principles cannot be swayed by either the Guayape gold or by the pearls of the Nicoya gulf." Really, the facts were and are different. Undoubtedly there was gold, but not to last long or in inexhaustible quantities. To attest its existence, we have tokens of the appreciation manifested by the Spanish royal rulers in remarkable relics in sculptures and paintings in our ancient churches. We must admit that we have had mines yielding gold and silver for centuries. A recent example is the Rosario mine, only just closed after being worked out for many years. Another fallacy was the myth of our rich and im- mense valleys. We soon woke up to the fact that ours is a rugged country of steep mountains where, because of the terrain, more than two-thirds of it is inaccessible to cultivation. At the beginning of the century, bold and enterprising pioneers came and discovered what is now known as "green gold," oro verde. Using the fertile plateaus of our luxuriant North Coast, they developed systematically the banana industry on a large scale, first buying from native planters who had not studied its value, for export purposes, as a household need in your American One thing is basic: ours is strictly an agricultural economy. For centuries we were deluded into the belief that our mineral re- sources were inexhaustible and would make all of us wealthy. Even a phrase was coined in the days of the advanced reform government of President Marco Aurelio Soto: "Honduras is plenti- ful in gold and talent." In Spanish, ours was the "patria del oro y del talento cuna." Many fell for the phrase, took it at face value for the truth, and went to sleep. But the whole thing did not go beyond the happy realm of a phrase. Still, poets and storytellers wrote legends about rivers that carried gold nuggets. The Guayape River was one among many of such rivers, and many of my countrymen went into primitive placer mining as some of you go angling for fish and daydreaming in the summer. Gold even found a place in the epic writings of Francisco Morazan, our greatest hero and statesman, when, refusing the dictatorship offered him in Guatemala by the Conservative Party, he solemnly declared: "My democratic principles cannot be swayed by either the Guayape gold or by the pearls of the Nicoya gulf." Really, the facts were and are different. Undoubtedly there was gold, but not to last long or in inexhaustible quantities. To attest its existence, we have tokens of the appreciation manifested by the Spanish royal rulers in remarkable relics in sculptures and paintings in our ancient churches. We must admit that we have had mines yielding gold and silver for centuries. A recent example is the Rosario mine, only just closed after being worked out for many years. Another fallacy was the myth of our rich and im- mense valleys. We soon woke up to the fact that ours is a rugged country of steep mountains where, because of the terrain, more than two-thirds of it is inaccessible to cultivation. At the beginning of the century, bold and enterprising pioneers came and discovered what is now known as "green gold," oro verde. Using the fertile plateaus of our luxuriant North Coast, they developed systematically the banana industry on a large scale, first buying from native planters who had not studied its value, for export purposes, as a household need in your American One thing is basic: ours is strictly an agricultural economy. For centuries we were deluded into the belief that our mineral re- sources were inexhaustible and would make all of us wealthy. Even a phrase was coined in the days of the advanced reform government of President Marco Aurelio Soto: "Honduras is plenti- ful in gold and talent." In Spanish, ours was the "patria del oro y del talento cuna." Many fell for the phrase, took it at face value for the truth, and went to sleep. But the whole thing did not go beyond the happy realm of a phrase. Still, poets and storytellers wrote legends about rivers that carried gold nuggets. The Guayape River was one among many of such rivers, and many of my countrymen went into primitive placer mining as some of you go angling for fish and daydreaming in the summer. Gold even found a place in the epic writings of Francisco Morazai, our greatest hero and statesman, when, refusing the dictatorship offered him in Guatemala by the Conservative Party, he solemnly declared: "My democratic principles cannot be swayed by either the Guayape gold or by the pearls of the Nicoya gulf." Really, the facts were and are different. Undoubtedly there was gold, but not to last long or in inexhaustible quantities. To attest its existence, we have tokens of the appreciation manifested by the Spanish royal rulers in remarkable relics in sculptures and paintings in our ancient churches. We must admit that we have had mines yielding gold and silver for centuries. A recent example is the Rosario mine, only just closed after being worked out for many years. Another fallacy was the myth of our rich and im- mense valleys. We soon woke up to the fact that ours is a rugged country of steep mountains where, because of the terrain, more than two-thirds of it is inaccessible to cultivation. At the beginning of the century, bold and enterprising pioneers came and discovered what is now known as "green gold," oro verde. Using the fertile plateaus of our luxuriant North Coast, they developed systematically the banana industry on a large scale, first buying from native planters who had not studied its value, for export purposes, as a household need in your American  190 The Caribbean homes. A plain and humble but enterprising clever Rumanian, still alive, created what is now an empire, which extends from Mexico in the north to Ecuador in the south. Years later, another man-this time a New Zealander-was to undertake something similar in the field of air transportation, thus proving that foreign ingenuity and initiative, coupled with daring, patience, and sheer determination, yield substantial and profitable dividends. The story of these two men is part of the legend of Honduras; in the case of the first one, by enriching himself, he helped develop adequately a great agricultural empire; in the case of the second, by opening routes for the internal and international ex- change of our products, he established our first airfields, and brought our out-of-the-way provinces into contact with all parts of the country instead of looking toward our neighboring states, whose currency was more familiar to them than our own and whose children were educated outside of Honduras. It has been argued many times that, economically, the banana investments of Central America have operated against the best in- terests of our countries. I do not pretend to give a definitive answer to this question. On one side, it has been said that no one goes into business for his health. There is no doubt that in the original agreements with our governments the investors made sure to keep the lion's share in the venture. But it is only natural that they would do so because of the risk. We cannot altogether blame this "take-all" attitude, especially if we remember the times and the naivete of the natives. What is unpardonable is that, when the time for contract renewals came, no thought of revision ever entered the negotiations, and no better terms were demanded from what proved to be a sound and profitable exploitation. And here, in my opinion, lies our fault, the sin of those who either were fooled into believing that the percentage of profit was much too low to justify a change or who sold their lives to the devil for a mere pittance. Fortunately, this situation is changing gradually, sometimes due to qualms of conscience, and at other times be- 190 The Caribbean 190 The Caribbean homes. A plain and humble but enterprising clever Rumanian, still alive, created what is now an empire, which extends from Mexico in the north to Ecuador in the south. Years later, another man-this time a New Zealander-was to undertake something similar in the field of air transportation, thus proving that foreign ingenuity and initiative, coupled with daring, patience, and sheer determination, yield substantial and profitable dividends. The story of these two men is part of the legend of Honduras; in the case of the first one, by enriching himself, he helped develop adequately a great agricultural empire; in the case of the second, by opening routes for the internal and international ex- change of our products, he established our first airfields, and brought our out-of-the-way provinces into contact with all parts of the country instead of looking toward our neighboring states, whose currency was more familiar to them than our own and whose children were educated outside of Honduras. It has been argued many times that, economically, the banana investments of Central America have operated against the best in- terests of our countries. I do not pretend to give a definitive answer to this question. On one side, it has been said that no one goes into business for his health. There is no doubt that in the original agreements with our governments the investors made sure to keep the lion's share in the venture. But it is only natural that they would do so because of the risk. We cannot altogether blame this "take-all" attitude, especially if we remember the times and the naivete of the natives. What is unpardonable is that, when the time for contract renewals came, no thought of revision ever entered the negotiations, and no better terms were demanded from what proved to be a sound and profitable exploitation. And here, in my opinion, lies our fault, the sin of those who either were fooled into believing that the percentage of profit was much too low to justify a change or who sold their lives to the devil for a mere pittance. Fortunately, this situation is changing gradually, sometimes due to qualms of conscience, and at other times be- homes. A plain and humble but enterprising clever Rumanian, still alive, created what is now an empire, which extends from Mexico in the north to Ecuador in the south. Years later, another man-this time a New Zealander-was to undertake something similar in the field of air transportation, thus proving that foreign ingenuity and initiative, coupled with daring, patience, and sheer determination, yield substantial and profitable dividends. The story of these two men is part of the legend of Honduras; in the case of the first one, by enriching himself, he helped develop adequately a great agricultural empire; in the case of the second, by opening routes for the internal and international ex- change of our products, he established our first airfields, and brought our out-of-the-way provinces into contact with all parts of the country instead of looking toward our neighboring states, whose currency was more familiar to them than our own and whose children were educated outside of Honduras. It has been argued many times that, economically, the banana investments of Central America have operated against the best in- terests of our countries. I do not pretend to give a definitive answer to this question. On one side, it has been said that no one goes into business for his health. There is no doubt that in the original agreements with our governments the investors made sure to keep the lion's share in the venture. But it is only natural that they would do so because of the risk. We cannot altogether blame this "take-all" attitude, especially if we remember the times and the naivete of the natives. What is unpardonable is that, when the time for contract renewals came, no thought of revision ever entered the negotiations, and no better terms were demanded from what proved to be a sound and profitable exploitation. And here, in my opinion, lies our fault, the sin of those who either were fooled into believing that the percentage of profit was much too low to justify a change or who sold their lives to the devil for a mere pittance. Fortunately, this situation is changing gradually, sometimes due to qualms of conscience, and at other times be-  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 191 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 191 CULTURAL CONCEPTS cause of a realization that a sound investment requires a perma- nent reinvestment in schools, hospitals, and other social advances for the workers. For years, diversification of products and gradual industrializa- tion have been bywords in what we now call the underdeveloped countries. As you are aware, bananas have been our main item of export and the source of state revenues in export taxes. Increased production volume has increased work for our common laborers, and has expanded business for our people in the Atlantic region. Formerly, we had dyewoods, minerals, timber, tropical fruits, and other products. It is only recently that we found we could also produce excellent coffee, not only for our own consumption but for export as well. Figures show an interesting trend: not until about 1930 did we begin to pay attention to this valuable item. I remember my keen satisfaction, when reading Arnold Bennett's book, that every time good coffee was mentioned, he would say "Costa Rican coffee." Many times, I dreamt that some well-known author would some day mention our coffee. And, while thinking that for years our policy had been to keep the best coffee home and export the rest, I could not keep from my mind the old story of the tourist who, after tasting some delicious fruits in one of our port markets, had asked the girl who was selling them if he could buy the whole basket. The girl had replied: "But, if I sell them all to you, what will I then be selling?" From 1930 to 1948, we exported a little over 600,000 sacks of coffee, or an average of 32,000 sacks per year. However, it is with pleasure I note that our newly acquired consciousness has resulted in an increase yield. In the last economic year reported, the figure amounts to over 200,000 sacks, and the figure is on the upgrade. What I wish to point out is that, in my estimation, the coffee industry, well oriented, could raise our economy even more than banana production. In the coffee industry we would not have a repetition of the banana story, hence thousands of private coffee planters would benefit by participating in earnings which in turn would leave a substantial profit in the national treasur. cause of a realization that a sound investment requires a perma- nent reinvestment in schools, hospitals, and other social advances for the workers. For years, diversification of products and gradual industrializa- tion have been bywords in what we now call the underdeveloped countries. As you are aware, bananas have been our main item of export and the source of state revenues in export taxes. Increased production volume has increased work for our common laborers, and has expanded business for our people in the Atlantic region. Formerly, we had dyewoods, minerals, timber, tropical fruits, and other products. It is only recently that we found we could also produce excellent coffee, not only for our own consumption but for export as well. Figures show an interesting trend: not until about 1930 did we begin to pay attention to this valuable item. I remember my keen satisfaction, when reading Arnold Bennett's book, that every time good coffee was mentioned, he would say "Costa Rican coffee." Many times, I dreamt that some well-known author would some day mention our coffee. And, while thinking that for years our policy had been to keep the best coffee home and export the rest, I could not keep from my mind the old story of the tourist who, after tasting some delicious fruits in one of our port markets, had asked the girl who was selling them if he could buy the whole basket. The girl had replied: "But, if I sell them all to you, what will I then be selling?" From 1930 to 1948, we exported a little over 600,000 sacks of coffee, or an average of 32,000 sacks per year. However, it is with pleasure I note that our newly acquired consciousness has resulted in an increase yield. In the last economic year reported, the figure amounts to over 200,000 sacks, and the figure is on the upgrade. What I wish to point out is that, in my estimation, the coffee industry, well oriented, could raise our economy even more than banana production. In the coffee industry we would not have a repetition of the banana story, hence thousands of private coffee planters would benefit by participating in earnings which in turn would leave a substantial profit in the national treasury. cause of a realization that a sound investment requires a perma- nent reinvestment in schools, hospitals, and other social advances for the workers. For years, diversification of products and gradual industrializa- tion have been bywords in what we now call the underdeveloped countries. As you are aware, bananas have been our main item of export and the source of state revenues in export taxes. Increased production volume has increased work for our common laborers, and has expanded business for our people in the Atlantic region. Formerly, we had dyewoods, minerals, timber, tropical fruits, and other products. It is only recently that we found we could also produce excellent coffee, not only for our own consumption but for export as well. Figures show an interesting trend: not until about 1930 did we begin to pay attention to this valuable item. I remember my keen satisfaction, when reading Arnold Bennett's book, that every time good coffee was mentioned, he would say "Costa Rican coffee." Many times, I dreamt that some well-known author would some day mention our coffee. And, while thinking that for years our policy had been to keep the best coffee home and export the rest, I could not keep from my mind the old story of the tourist who, after tasting some delicious fruits in one of our port markets, had asked the girl who was selling them if he could buy the whole basket. The girl had replied: "But, if I sell them all to you, what will I then be selling?" From 1930 to 1948, we exported a little over 600,000 sacks of coffee, or an average of 32,000 sacks per year. However, it is with pleasure I note that our newly acquired consciousness has resulted in an increase yield. In the last economic year reported, the figure amounts to over 200,000 sacks, and the figure is on the upgrade. What I wish to point out is that, in my estimation, the coffee industry, well oriented, could raise our economy even more than banana production. In the coffee industry we would not have a repetition of the banana story, hence thousands of private coffee planters would benefit by participating in earnings which in turn would leave a substantial profit in the national treasury.  192 The Caribbean I may add that such a plan would raise the standard of living of a great part of our population without resorting to any other aid than that envisaged in Technical Assistance through adopting modern methods of cultivation and employing modern machinery. While, on the one hand, there has been an increasing plea for gradual industrialization, the scarcity or complete lack of local capital with which to cope with such a demand has made us turn to the United States of America to supply such capital. We do not pretend, as believed in some Latin American areas mentioned dur- ing Mr. Milton Eisenhower's visit, that such a plan is not welcome here. However, North American capital might tend to maintain our old status as a market for your products and use us as a reserve production area for raw materials for your own needs. We do believe firmly that the real reasons behind your reluctance to expand credits is that you still can obtain a fair margin of profits using your own money in my country and that you are always in fear that for political reasons your investments would be some day nationalized or, through other measures, your profits would be tied up. It is gratifying for me to say at this time that our history does not show such an intent, nor have your investments ever suffered in these ways. In the wide expanse of territory that once constituted the Mayan empire from upper Yucatan to Copin in Honduras, arts and crafts flourished. You may remember that in Columbus' nar- rative of his fourth voyage he mentioned coming across a large boat, manned by Indian merchants, carrying colorful textiles in what must have been a regularly used trade route. Later, in colo- nial times, the Spaniards developed vineyards and grew tobacco in the western part of our country. The gold rush of placer min- ing, coupled with other factors, made our incipient agriculture languish and die. The wars finally ended all efforts at industrial- ization, even though enterprising successive governments entered into contracts with experts from abroad to teach our people the wine, tobacco, and silk-producing industries. 192 The Caribbean I may add that such a plan would raise the standard of living of a great part of our population without resorting to any other aid than that envisaged in Technical Assistance through adopting modern methods of cultivation and employing modern machinery. While, on the one hand, there has been an increasing plea for gradual industrialization, the scarcity or complete lack of local capital with which to cope with such a demand has made us turn to the United States of America to supply such capital. We do not pretend, as believed in some Latin American areas mentioned dur- ing Mr. Milton Eisenhower's visit, that such a plan is not welcome here. However, North American capital might tend to maintain our old status as a market for your products and use us as a reserve production area for raw materials for your own needs. We do believe firmly that the real reasons behind your reluctance to expand credits is that you still can obtain a fair margin of profits using your own money in my country and that you are always in fear that for political reasons your investments would be some day nationalized or, through other measures, your profits would be tied up. It is gratifying for me to say at this time that our history does not show such an intent, nor have your investments ever suffered in these ways. In the wide expanse of territory that once constituted the Mayan empire from upper Yucatan to Copan in Honduras, arts and crafts flourished. You may remember that in Columbus' nar- rative of his fourth voyage he mentioned coming across a large boat, manned by Indian merchants, carrying colorful textiles in what must have been a regularly used trade route. Later, in colo- nial times, the Spaniards developed vineyards and grew tobacco in the western part of our country. The gold rush of placer min- ing, coupled with other factors, made our incipient agriculture languish and die. The wars finally ended all efforts at industrial- ization, even though enterprising successive governments entered into contracts with experts from abroad to teach our people the wine, tobacco, and silk-producing industries. 192 The Caribbean I may add that such a plan would raise the standard of living of a great part of our population without resorting to any other aid than that envisaged in Technical Assistance through adopting modern methods of cultivation and employing modern machinery. While, on the one hand, there has been an increasing plea for gradual industrialization, the scarcity or complete lack of local capital with which to cope with such a demand has made us turn to the United States of America to supply such capital. We do not pretend, as believed in some Latin American areas mentioned dur- ing Mr. Milton Eisenhower's visit, that such a plan is not welcome here. However, North American capital might tend to maintain our old status as a market for your products and use us as a reserve production area for raw materials for your own needs. We do believe firmly that the real reasons behind your reluctance to expand credits is that you still can obtain a fair margin of profits using your own money in my country and that you are always in fear that for political reasons your investments would be some day nationalized or, through other measures, your profits would be tied up. It is gratifying for me to say at this time that our history does not show such an intent, nor have your investments ever suffered in these ways. In the wide expanse of territory that once constituted the Mayan empire from upper Yucatin to Copin in Honduras, arts and crafts flourished. You may remember that in Columbus' nar- rative of his fourth voyage he mentioned coming across a large boat, manned by Indian merchants, carrying colorful textiles in what must have been a regularly used trade route. Later, in colo- nial times, the Spaniards developed vineyards and grew tobacco in the western part of our country. The gold rush of placer min- ing, coupled with other factors, made our incipient agriculture languish and die. The wars finally ended all efforts at industrial- ization, even though enterprising successive governments entered into contracts with experts from abroad to teach our people the wine, tobacco, and silk-producing industries.  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 193 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 193 CULTURAL CONCEPTS III Are we doing anything now to help ourselves? Since World War II private investments in Latin America seem to have trebled, but we are not among those favored-at least, not with new in- vestments. Despite this, the government has engaged in programs of rural colonization-creating rural and trade schools-and offer- ing supervised credit to farmers through the National Bank of Development. Despite the fact that our Agrarian Law of 1936 is far more advanced than that of other countries, its drawbacks and shortcomings are recognized, and there is great need to implement it so that it may favor farmers without land and help the small and medium farmers in need of funds, machinery, or technical advice. There is no restriction in the law for the syndicalization of farmers, but not a step in the positive direction was taken until May, 1954, when a big strike paralyzed all operations in the agri- cultural belt, which is the backbone of the country's economy. Upon settlement of the strike, after almost two months of negotia- tions, the first syndicates were organized under the guidance of the International Labor Organization and some of its agencies. This, of course, marks a step forward in cementing relations be- tween management and labor in Honduras. At this time, almost all lines of endeavor have joined for the defense of common inter- ests. The university is cooperating also and, before the end of the year, we shall have a course in labor education in the capital. In this connection, it is important to note that Honduras has enjoyed the bounties of liberal legislation almost from its inception as an independent state, and that it has incorporated in its laws all basic human rights. But, as we have come to learn, it is not suf- ficient to have a declaration of rights when the crying need of our times is the strict enforcement of those rights in everyday life. As in other countries, we do not escape the ever-present pitfalls: in- sufacient education at all levels of the population, despite the existence of intrinsic moral values, has made the road difficult and retarded our civic progress. As an example, let me point out that every Honduran has known for years that we badly need a III Are we doing anything now to help ourselves? Since World War II private investments in Latin America seem to have trebled, but we are not among those favored-at least, not with new in- vestments. Despite this, the government has engaged in programs of rural colonization-creating rural and trade schools-and offer- ing supervised credit to farmers through the National Bank of Development. Despite the fact that our Agrarian Law of 1936 is far more advanced than that of other countries, its drawbacks and shortcomings are recognized, and there is great need to implement it so that it may favor farmers without land and help the small and medium farmers in need of funds, machinery, or technical advice. There is no restriction in the law for the syndicalization of farmers, but not a step in the positive direction was taken until May, 1954, when a big strike paralyzed all operations in the agri- cultural belt, which is the backbone of the country's economy. Upon settlement of the strike, after almost two months of negotia- tions, the first syndicates were organized under the guidance of the International Labor Organization and some of its agencies. This, of course, marks a step forward in cementing relations be- tween management and labor in Honduras. At this time, almost all lines of endeavor have joined for the defense of common inter- ests. The university is cooperating also and, before the end of the year, we shall have a course in labor education in the capital. In this connection, it is important to note that Honduras has enjoyed the bounties of liberal legislation almost from its inception as an independent state, and that it has incorporated in its laws all basic human rights. But, as we have come to learn, it is not suf- ficient to have a declaration of rights when the crying need of our times is the strict enforcement of those rights in everyday life. As in other countries, we do not escape the ever-present pitfalls: in- sufficient education at all levels of the population, despite the existence of intrinsic moral values, has made the road difficult and retarded our civic progress. As an example, let me point out that every Honduran has known for years that we badly need a III Are we doing anything now to help ourselves? Since World War II private investments in Latin America seem to have trebled, but we are not among those favored-at least, not with new in- vestments. Despite this, the government has engaged in programs of rural colonization-creating rural and trade schools-and offer- ing supervised credit to farmers through the National Bank of Development. Despite the fact that our Agrarian Law of 1936 is far more advanced than that of other countries, its drawbacks and shortcomings are recognized, and there is great need to implement it so that it may favor farmers without land and help the small and medium farmers in need of funds, machinery, or technical advice. There is no restriction in the law for the syndicalization of farmers, but not a step in the positive direction was taken until May, 1954, when a big strike paralyzed all operations in the agri- cultural belt, which is the backbone of the country's economy. Upon settlement of the strike, after almost two months of negotia- tions, the first syndicates were organized under the guidance of the International Labor Organization and some of its agencies. This, of course, marks a step forward in cementing relations be- tween management and labor in Honduras. At this time, almost all lines of endeavor have joined for the defense of common inter- ests. The university is cooperating also and, before the end of the year, we shall have a course in labor education in the capital. In this connection, it is important to note that Honduras has enjoyed the bounties of liberal legislation almost from its inception as an independent state, and that it has incorporated in its laws all basic human rights. But, as we have come to learn, it is not suf- ficient to have a declaration of rights when the crying need of our times is the strict enforcement of those rights in everyday life. As in other countries, we do not escape the ever-present pitfalls: in- sufficient education at all levels of the population, despite the existence of intrinsic moral values, has made the road difficult and retarded our civic progress. As an example, let me point out that every Honduran has known for years that we badly need a  194 The Caribbean labor code and that such a code should have been enacted long before other piecemeal measures and subsidiary laws, such as the Workmen's Compensation Law and the Merchant Marine and Mining Act. However, because of well-known factors and in- fluences moving stealthily behind the scenes-even though twice since 1930 we have had bills ready for the consideration of Con- gress-almost twenty-five years have elapsed without action. Un- til our next Congress we expect no positive action in this direction. IV We come now to a topic dear to my heart and one to which I would gladly devote the remaining years of my life: the subject of the education and cultural development of the great mass of our people. It is past time that we see realistically that we cannot remain retarded, and that our responsibility is too great to post- pone a plan which will show that in our human fabric we possess all the elements required to attain a better and perfected demo- cratic life. Witness the fine example our country gave last Octo- ber, when the people went to the polls to choose a new chief of state. Let me say that this remarkable spectacle would not have been possible had it not been for the fact that our people are maturing and, if directed honestly in the right path, are ready to give proof of this maturity with profitable results. As you well know, this process is not an easy one and it has taken other nationalities generations to work out. Not until the present administration had the war budget been less than the educational budget. New times and new men brought about a new conscience. What Padre Jose Trinidad Reyes, the father of our university, and our statesman Ramdn Rosa had advocated in the past, bore fruit in a sterner campaign against illiteracy, in more schools for rural and secondary teachers, and in agricultural education for our people. At superior levels, the last few years have witnessed the creation at the university of three new depart- ments of economics, dentistry, and architecture. We are now engaged in developing an Agricultural Department and only await 194 The Caribbean labor code and that such a code should have been enacted long before other piecemeal measures and subsidiary laws, such as the Workmen's Compensation Law and the Merchant Marine and Mining Act. However, because of well-known factors and in- fluences moving stealthily behind the scenes-even though twice since 1930 we have had bills ready for the consideration of Con- gress-almost twenty-five years have elapsed without action. Un- til our next Congress we expect no positive action in this direction. IV We come now to a topic dear to my heart and one to which I would gladly devote the remaining years of my life: the subject of the education and cultural development of the great mass of our people. It is past time that we see realistically that we cannot remain retarded, and that our responsibility is too great to post- pone a plan which will show that in our human fabric we possess all the elements required to attain a better and perfected demo- cratic life. Witness the fine example our country gave last Octo- ber, when the people went to the polls to choose a new chief of state. Let me say that this remarkable spectacle would not have been possible had it not been for the fact that our people are maturing and, if directed honestly in the right path, are ready to give proof of this maturity with profitable results. As you well know, this process is not an easy one and it has taken other nationalities generations to work out. Not until the present administration had the war budget been less than the educational budget. New times and new men brought about a new conscience. What Padre Jose Trinidad Reyes, the father of our university, and our statesman Ramdn Rosa had advocated in the past, bore fruit in a sterner campaign against illiteracy, in more schools for rural and secondary teachers, and in agricultural education for our people. At superior levels, the last few years have witnessed the creation at the university of three new depart- ments of economics, dentistry, and architecture. We are now engaged in developing an Agricultural Department and only await 194 The Caribbean labor code and that such a code should have been enacted long before other piecemeal measures and subsidiary laws, such as the Workmen's Compensation Law and the Merchant Marine and Mining Act. However, because of well-known factors and in- fluences moving stealthily behind the scenes-even though twice since 1930 we have had bills ready for the consideration of Con- gress-almost twenty-five years have elapsed without action. Un- til our next Congress we expect no positive action in this direction. IV We come now to a topic dear to my heart and one to which I would gladly devote the remaining years of my life: the subject of the education and cultural development of the great mass of our people. It is past time that we see realistically that we cannot remain retarded, and that our responsibility is too great to post- pone a plan which will show that in our human fabric we possess all the elements required to attain a better and perfected demo- cratic life. Witness the fine example our country gave last Octo- ber, when the people went to the polls to choose a new chief of state. Let me say that this remarkable spectacle would not have been possible had it not been for the fact that our people are maturing and, if directed honestly in the right path, are ready to give proof of this maturity with profitable results. As you well know, this process is not an easy one and it has taken other nationalities generations to work out. Not until the present administration had the war budget been less than the educational budget. New times and new men brought about a new conscience. What Padre Jose Trinidad Reyes, the father of our university, and our statesman Ramdn Rosa had advocated in the past, bore fruit in a sterner campaign against illiteracy, in more schools for rural and secondary teachers, and in agricultural education for our people. At superior levels, the last few years have witnessed the creation at the university of three new depart- ments of economics, dentistry, and architecture. We are now engaged in developing an Agricultural Department and only await  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 195 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 195 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 195 the ratification of university autonomy to begin our most ambitious plan: a real university city. This road has not been easy. In order to achieve such gains which elsewhere are taken for granted, we have at times paid a heavy price. But the effort has been worth while and rewarding, and the achievement most salutary to the nation. Among the salient points, I must mention the fact that for the past twenty- five years, despite all threats, the youth of the present generation do not know and have not experienced the pains and frustrations of civil wars. Our young people have not been sacrificed in our hills and green valleys, so that we may have another benefactor added to a long list. Finally the days of the caudillos are over. The fatal interdependence of nations, the fruitful life, and the example of other countries have brought home the realization that states no longer can be isolated from each other. V Such is my interpretation of events in Honduras in the light of my own experience and as witnessed from an impartial vantage point. I realize that it is not possible to note within the limited framework of these pages all that should be said in connection with our social, economic, and cultural development. What I would certainly wish is to create a favorable climate of understand- ing and to put in focus those salient elements capable of arousing the interest of world public opinion. The other day in a meeting of the General Assembly of the United Nations, I ventured to say that in our day and time what we have come to label as underdeveloped countries now demand a special treatment from the privileged industrialized states. But, in order to obtain such treatment, a thorough survey of the pertinent problems should be made in advance, for we know that international cooperation works both ways if a complete job is to be done. In my opinion, peaceful coexistence will be derived from a perfect understanding of such a truth. Honduras is emerging valiantly from dangerous crosscurrents and, in my estimation, nothing can stop her now from attaining a long-deserved goal. the ratification of university autonomy to begin our most ambitious plan: a real university city. This road has not been easy. In order to achieve such gains which elsewhere are taken for granted, we have at times paid a heavy price. But the effort has been worth while and rewarding, and the achievement most salutary to the nation. Among the salient points, I must mention the fact that for the past twenty- five years, despite all threats, the youth of the present generation do not know and have not experienced the pains and frustrations of civil wars. Our young people have not been sacrificed in our hills and green valleys, so that we may have another benefactor added to a long list. Finally the days of the caudillos are over. The fatal interdependence of nations, the fruitful life, and the example of other countries have brought home the realization that states no longer can be isolated from each other. V Such is my interpretation of events in Honduras in the light of my own experience and as witnessed from an impartial vantage point. I realize that it is not possible to note within the limited framework of these pages all that should be said in connection with our social, economic, and cultural development. What I would certainly wish is to create a favorable climate of understand- ing and to put in focus those salient elements capable of arousing the interest of world public opinion. The other day in a meeting of the General Assembly of the United Nations, I ventured to say that in our day and time what we have come to label as underdeveloped countries now demand a special treatment from the privileged industrialized states. But, in order to obtain such treatment, a thorough survey of the pertinent problems should be made in advance, for we know that international cooperation works both ways if a complete job is to be done. In my opinion, peaceful coexistence will be derived from a perfect understanding of such a truth. Honduras is emerging valiantly from dangerous crosscurrents and, in my estimation, nothing can stop her now from attaining a long-deserved goal. the ratification of university autonomy to begin our most ambitious plan: a real university city. This road has not been easy. In order to achieve such gains which elsewhere are taken for granted, we have at times paid a heavy price. But the effort has been worth while and rewarding, and the achievement most salutary to the nation. Among the salient points, I must mention the fact that for the past twenty- five years, despite all threats, the youth of the present generation do not know and have not experienced the pains and frustrations of civil wars. Our young people have not been sacrificed in our hills and green valleys, so that we may have another benefactor added to a long list. Finally the days of the caudillos are over. The fatal interdependence of nations, the fruitful life, and the example of other countries have brought home the realization that states no longer can be isolated from each other. V Such is my interpretation of events in Honduras in the light of my own experience and as witnessed from an impartial vantage point. I realize that it is not possible to note within the limited framework of these pages all that should be said in connection with our social, economic, and cultural development. What I would certainly wish is to create a favorable climate of understand- ing and to put in focus those salient elements capable of arousing the interest of world public opinion. The other day in a meeting of the General Assembly of the United Nations, I ventured to say that in our day and time what we have come to label as underdeveloped countries now demand a special treatment from the privileged industrialized states. But, in order to obtain such treatment, a thorough survey of the pertinent problems should be made in advance, for we know that international cooperation works both ways if a complete job is to be done. In my opinion, peaceful coexistence will be derived from a perfect understanding of such a truth. Honduras is emerging valiantly from dangerous crosscurrents and, in my estimation, nothing can stop her now from attaining a long-deserved goal.  Jaime Benitez: CULTURAL VALUES IN A FRONTIER: UNIVERSITY SERVICES IN PUERTO RICO THE UNIVERSITY OF PUERTO RICO was established and has grown during a period in world history that experienced and is experiencing the greatest social change and challenge to our civilization. On a smaller scale, and for reasons not unrelated, Puerto Rico was to go through the greatest transformations in its history. Our institution was founded in 1903, five years after Puerto Rico's political disassociation from the Spanish Empire. At that time the previous four centuries of feudal, agrarian, and non- democratic political traditions decisively conditioned our society. The Spanish settlers had brought with them, together with the social, economic, and political evils plaguing the mother country, other things which are most important to us even today. Out- standing among these were their Catholic religion, their profound belief in human equality independently of race, their regard for learning which, though not widespread, was highly prized, their affection for the values of family life, and the stoical bent of their outlook, which, in turn, steadied them through the frequent visita- tions of adversity. These values were not frozen at any particular time before or after 1898, but, as happens to all living things, have undergone and will continue to undergo modifications and changes as they come in contact with new conditions. For in- 196 17 Jaime Benitez: CULTURAL VALUES IN A FRONTIER: UNIVERSITY SERVICES IN PUERTO RICO THE UNIVERSITY OF PUERTO RICO was established and has grown during a period in world history that experienced and is experiencing the greatest social change and challenge to our civilization. On a smaller scale, and for reasons not unrelated, Puerto Rico was to go through the greatest transformations in its history. Our institution was founded in 1903, five years after Puerto Rico's political disassociation from the Spanish Empire. At that time the previous four centuries of feudal, agrarian, and non- democratic political traditions decisively conditioned our society. The Spanish settlers had brought with them, together with the social, economic, and political evils plaguing the mother country, other things which are most important to us even today. Out- standing among these were their Catholic religion, their profound belief in human equality independently of race, their regard for learning which, though not widespread, was highly prized, their affection for the values of family life, and the stoical bent of their outlook, which, in turn, steadied them through the frequent visita- tions of adversity. These values were not frozen at any particular time before or after 1898, but, as happens to all living things, have undergone and will continue to undergo modifications and changes as they come in contact with new conditions. For in- 196 Jaime Benitez: CULTURAL VALUES IN A FRONTIER: UNIVERSITY SERVICES IN PUERTO RICO THE UNIVERSITY OF PUERTO RICO was established and has grown during a period in world history that experienced and is experiencing the greatest social change and challenge to our civilization. On a smaller scale, and for reasons not unrelated, Puerto Rico was to go through the greatest transformations in its history. Our institution was founded in 1903, five years after Puerto Rico's political disassociation from the Spanish Empire. At that time the previous four centuries of feudal, agrarian, and non- democratic political traditions decisively conditioned our society. The Spanish settlers had brought with them, together with the social, economic, and political evils plaguing the mother country, other things which are most important to us even today. Out- standing among these were their Catholic religion, their profound belief in human equality independently of race, their regard for learning which, though not widespread, was highly prized, their affection for the values of family life, and the stoical bent of their outlook, which, in turn, steadied them through the frequent visita- tions of adversity. These values were not frozen at any particular time before or after 1898, but, as happens to all living things, have undergone and will continue to undergo modifications and changes as they come in contact with new conditions. For in- 196  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 197 stance, the Catholic Church never achieved in Puerto Rico the stern and all-pervasive influence it held and holds in Spain. The Puerto Rican male, like his Latin American counterpart, is lax in the observance of his religious obligations and tends to regard them as the particular province and responsibility of the women- folk. Lately, there has been a rekindling of fervor, particularly under the stimulus and leadership of Catholic priests and orders from supposedly Protestant United States. It is illuminating to note in this connection that when the Puerto Rican Constitution was up for discussion, three years ago, it was an Irish-American bishop who led the fight against the explicit separation of Church and State. He was unsuccessful. Likewise, the institution of the family, while stemming from the Spanish tradition, has evolved characteristics of its own which, in my estimation, make it our outstanding development in social structures. Today we marry for love, women are emancipated, children are kings, and yet the strong family ties and the family values and patterns are visible everywhere. The story of the impact of North American practices, institu- tions, techniques, and resources on Puerto Rican society-and the very many advantages resulting therefrom-together with the re- adjustments, confusions, and misunderstandings accompanying them, has never been adequately told or even sufficiently gauged. I will merely mention some of the principal facts as they relate to public education. At the time of the American occupation in 1898, Puerto Rico had a population of 900,000. Only eight per cent of the children from 5 to 17 years of age were enrolled in school. Only twenty per cent of the total population were able to read and write. Increased literacy was immediately regarded as of paramount importance. The University was organized as a training center for normal-school teachers. The coeducational public school sys- tem was enthusiastically received, and the classrooms that spread CULTURAL CONCEPTS 197 stance, the Catholic Church never achieved in Puerto Rico the stern and all-pervasive influence it held and holds in Spain. The Puerto Rican male, like his Latin American counterpart, is lax in the observance of his religious obligations and tends to regard them as the particular province and responsibility of the women- folk. Lately, there has been a rekindling of fervor, particularly under the stimulus and leadership of Catholic priests and orders from supposedly Protestant United States. It is illuminating to note in this connection that when the Puerto Rican Constitution was up for discussion, three years ago, it was an Irish-American bishop who led the fight against the explicit separation of Church and State. He was unsuccessful. Likewise, the institution of the family, while stemming from the Spanish tradition, has evolved characteristics of its own which, in my estimation, make it our outstanding development in social structures. Today we marry for love, women are emancipated, children are kings, and yet the strong family ties and the family values and patterns are visible everywhere. The story of the impact of North American practices, institu- tions, techniques, and resources on Puerto Rican society-and the very many advantages resulting therefrom-together with the re- adjustments, confusions, and misunderstandings accompanying them, has never been adequately told or even sufficiently gauged. I will merely mention some of the principal facts as they relate to public education. At the time of the American occupation in 1898, Puerto Rico had a population of 900,000. Only eight per cent of the children from 5 to 17 years of age were enrolled in school. Only twenty per cent of the total population were able to read and write. Increased literacy was immediately regarded as of paramount importance. The University was organized as a training center for normal-school teachers. The coeducational public school sys- tem was enthusiastically received, and the classrooms that spread CULTURAL CONCEPTS 197 stance, the Catholic Church never achieved in Puerto Rico the stern and all-pervasive influence it held and holds in Spain. The Puerto Rican male, like his Latin American counterpart, is lax in the observance of his religious obligations and tends to regard them as the particular province and responsibility of the women- folk. Lately, there has been a rekindling of fervor, particularly under the stimulus and leadership of Catholic priests and orders from supposedly Protestant United States. It is illuminating to note in this connection that when the Puerto Rican Constitution was up for discussion, three years ago, it was an Irish-American bishop who led the fight against the explicit separation of Church and State. He was unsuccessful. Likewise, the institution of the family, while stemming from the Spanish tradition, has evolved characteristics of its own which, in my estimation, make it our outstanding development in social structures. Today we marry for love, women are emancipated, children are kings, and yet the strong family ties and the family values and patterns are visible everywhere. The story of the impact of North American practices, institu- tions, techniques, and resources on Puerto Rican society-and the very many advantages resulting therefrom-together with the re- adjustments, confusions, and misunderstandings accompanying them, has never been adequately told or even sufficiently gauged. I will merely mention some of the principal facts as they relate to public education. At the time of the American occupation in 1898, Puerto Rico had a population of 900,000. Only eight per cent of the children from 5 to 17 years of age were enrolled in school. Only twenty per cent of the total population were able to read and write. Increased literacy was immediately regarded as of paramount importance. The University was organized as a training center for normal-school teachers. The coeducational public school sys- tem was enthusiastically received, and the classrooms that spread  198 The Caribbean throughout the island started Puerto Rico on the road to social democracy. One of our most touching and beautiful sights has been and still is that of boys and girls, white and black, wealthy and destitute, well-born and illegitimate, rubbing elbows in our crowded schools. The pent-up eagerness for knowledge and the parental determination to serve their children better than them- selves have brought our society together. A basic sense of unity has been achieved through this daily relationship. It has provided the background for all our development. Probably the worst mistake in the educational program was the well-meaning if unfounded assumption that democracy is some- thing that happens only in English, that the principal task of the school was to make children bilingual, and that students who didn't know English should be taught in that language by teachers who didn't know it either. It didn't quite work out that way. For many years now, Spanish has become not only the de facto lan- guage of the schools which it always was, but also the de jure language which it never should have stopped being. English is taught now from the first grade on as a second language. It is hoped that once the methodological tangles are unsnarled, the process of learning English will acquire the proficiency which all of us feel essential for the present and the future. By now, the Normal School, begun fifty-one years ago with 12 teachers and 172 students, has pyramided into one of the largest Spanish-speaking universities in the world. Its regular faculty numbers 727. Its student body is 13,158-not counting summer school. Its annual budget, including agricultural dependencies, is over $11,000,000. Its graduating class is a little under 2,000 students. While we now train most of the professional men in Puerto Rico-and our graduates include doctors, engineers, agronomists, lawyers, pharmacists, business men, and social workers-the Uni- versity is ever mindful of its original purpose. Its Charter, as amended in 1942, provides that: 198 The Caribbean 198 The Caribbean throughout the island started Puerto Rico on the road to social democracy. One of our most touching and beautiful sights has been and still is that of boys and girls, white and black, wealthy and destitute, well-born and illegitimate, rubbing elbows in our crowded schools. The pent-up eagerness for knowledge and the parental determination to serve their children better than them- selves have brought our society together. A basic sense of unity has been achieved through this daily relationship. It has provided the background for all our development. Probably the worst mistake in the educational program was the well-meaning if unfounded assumption that democracy is some- thing that happens only in English, that the principal task of the school was to make children bilingual, and that students who didn't know English should be taught in that language by teachers who didn't know it either. It didn't quite work out that way. For many years now, Spanish has become not only the de facto lan- guage of the schools which it always was, but also the de jure language which it never should have stopped being. English is taught now from the first grade on as a second language. It is hoped that once the methodological tangles are unsnarled, the process of learning English will acquire the proficiency which all of us feel essential for the present and the future. By now, the Normal School, begun fifty-one years ago with 12 teachers and 172 students, has pyramided into one of the largest Spanish-speaking universities in the world. Its regular faculty numbers 727. Its student body is 13,158-not counting summer school. Its annual budget, including agricultural dependencies, is over $11,000,000. Its graduating class is a little under 2,000 students. While we now train most of the professional men in Puerto Rico-and our graduates include doctors, engineers, agronomists, lawyers, pharmacists, business men, and social workers-the Uni- versity is ever mindful of its original purpose. Its Charter, as amended in 1942, provides that: throughout the island started Puerto Rico on the road to social democracy. One of our most touching and beautiful sights has been and still is that of boys and girls, white and black, wealthy and destitute, well-born and illegitimate, rubbing elbows in our crowded schools. The pent-up eagerness for knowledge and the parental determination to serve their children better than them- selves have brought our society together. A basic sense of unity has been achieved through this daily relationship. It has provided the background for all our development. Probably the worst mistake in the educational program was the well-meaning if unfounded assumption that democracy is some- thing that happens only in English, that the principal task of the school was to make children bilingual, and that students who didn't know English should be taught in that language by teachers who didn't know it either. It didn't quite work out that way. For many years now, Spanish has become not only the de facto lan- guage of the schools which it always was, but also the de jure language which it never should have stopped being. English is taught now from the first grade on as a second language. It is hoped that once the methodological tangles are unsnarled, the process of learning English will acquire the proficiency which all of us feel essential for the present and the future. By now, the Normal School, begun fifty-one years ago with 12 teachers and 172 students, has pyramided into one of the largest Spanish-speaking universities in the world. Its regular faculty numbers 727. Its student body is 13,158-not counting summer school. Its annual budget, including agricultural dependencies, is over $11,000,000. Its graduating class is a little under 2,000 students. While we now train most of the professional men in Puerto Rico-and our graduates include doctors, engineers, agronomists, lawyers, pharmacists, business men, and social workers-the Uni- versity is ever mindful of its original purpose. Its Charter, as amended in 1942, provides that:  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 199 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 199 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 199 The University, without being limited in this to its pedagogical discipline, is to teach how to teach, and to teach how to learn. The aim of the University should be to have its graduates, in whatever professions of activities they undertake, serve as teachers in example and attitude, of the people of Puerto Rico in the devel- opment of their democratic mode of life. The aim of the University, as a center of education and as a center of research, is to point out the truth and to instill the methods of knowing it, of testing it, or of doubting it-in an attitude of profound respect toward creative truth and creative doubt. Ours is the only United States land-grant institution function- ing in a Latin American cultural area. Within the framework of its basic commitments-freedom to teach, freedom to search, free- dom to doubt-it serves with unstinted devotion the growth and the well-being of Puerto Rico. In the pursuit of our responsibili- ties, we have become, even without meaning to, a dynamic labora- tory in a cultural frontier. We are living through, testing, and validating the compatibility of the North American way of life with the cultural values of the Hispanic world as they have evolved in Puerto Rico. II We of the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico have for some time recognized this compatibility. In recent years we have achieved extraordinary advancements in life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It has come as a fruitful culmination of a long, diffi- cult, and oftentimes exasperating struggle with dissimilar cultural trends which, while stemming in the main from the common Western tradition, had nonetheless evolved special characteristics, which were at different stages of development, and which required important readjustments and re-elaborations in order to be assimi- lated, or rather blended, into a coherent, steadying way of life. We have not succeeded, of course, in providing a complete solution to this interplay of forces. I expect that no exclusive or permanent The University, without being limited in this to its pedagogical discipline, is to teach how to teach, and to teach how to learn. The aim of the University should be to have its graduates, in whatever professions of activities they undertake, serve as teachers in example and attitude, of the people of Puerto Rico in the devel- opment of their democratic mode of life. The aim of the University, as a center of education and as a center of research, is to point out the truth and to instill the methods of knowing it, of testing it, or of doubting it-in an attitude of profound respect toward creative truth and creative doubt. Ours is the only United States land-grant institution function- ing in a Latin American cultural area. Within the framework of its basic commitments-freedom to teach, freedom to search, free- dom to doubt-it serves with unstinted devotion the growth and the well-being of Puerto Rico. In the pursuit of our responsibili- ties, we have become, even without meaning to, a dynamic labora- tory in a cultural frontier. We are living through, testing, and validating the compatibility of the North American way of life with the cultural values of the Hispanic world as they have evolved in Puerto Rico. II We of the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico have for some time recognized this compatibility. In recent years we have achieved extraordinary advancements in life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It has come as a fruitful culmination of a long, diffi- cult, and oftentimes exasperating struggle with dissimilar cultural trends which, while stemming in the main from the common Western tradition, had nonetheless evolved special characteristics, which were at different stages of development, and which required important readjustments and re-elaborations in order to be assimi- lated, or rather blended, into a coherent, steadying way of life. We have not succeeded, of course, in providing a complete solution to this interplay of forces. I expect that no exclusive or permanent The University, without being limited in this to its pedagogical discipline, is to teach how to teach, and to teach how to learn. The aim of the University should be to have its graduates, in whatever professions of activities they undertake, serve as teachers in example and attitude, of the people of Puerto Rico in the devel- opment of their democratic mode of life. The aim of the University, as a center of education and as a center of research, is to point out the truth and to instill the methods of knowing it, of testing it, or of doubting it-in an attitude of profound respect toward creative truth and creative doubt. Ours is the only United States land-grant institution function- ing in a Latin American cultural area. Within the framework of its basic commitments-freedom to teach, freedom to search, free- dom to doubt-it serves with unstinted devotion the growth and the well-being of Puerto Rico. In the pursuit of our responsibili- ties, we have become, even without meaning to, a dynamic labora- tory in a cultural frontier. We are living through, testing, and validating the compatibility of the North American way of life with the cultural values of the Hispanic world as they have evolved in Puerto Rico. II We of the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico have for some time recognized this compatibility. In recent years we have achieved extraordinary advancements in life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It has come as a fruitful culmination of a long, difli- cult, and oftentimes exasperating struggle with dissimilar cultural trends which, while stemming in the main from the common Western tradition, had nonetheless evolved special characteristics, which were at different stages of development, and which required important readjustments and re-elaborations in order to be assimi- lated, or rather blended, into a coherent, steadying way of life. We have not succeeded, of course, in providing a complete solution to this interplay of forces. I expect that no exclusive or permanent  200 The Caribbean 200 The Caribbean 200 The Caribbean or all-embracing answer can be given, for it is of the essence of cultural dynamics that the cross-fertilization of forms, attitudes, values, and approaches should continue as long as the vitality of individual and group differences endures, and further, that they should endure as stimulants and aids toward greater growth. But I believe that at long last we have been successful in achiev- ing our own basic adjustments. We have come to grips with the realities of human misery as they exist in Puerto Rico materially and spiritually. The generation to which I belong has concluded that our own justification for existence is to participate in the struggle for the salvation of our fellowmen, that this calls for opportunities, for freedom, for education, for well-being, for values of expression, of conduct, and of solidarity. We have fur- ther concluded that knowledge, democracy, and modern science are indispensable to the successful prosecution of these goals, and that the traditions which we hold most dear are in no way incom- patible with these other values. We feel rather that they can grow and flourish and take their meaningful significance as integral parts of a great cultured complex. The effort to carry this on is what I have called the peaceful revolution of the forties. During the depression years of the 1930's, Puerto Rico had drifted into a situation of frustration, hopelessness, and despair that brought forth dirges rather than programs for improvements of the dire economic and social situation that had befallen the community. Puerto Rican Lament, one of our noted songs, dealt with the sad plight of the peasant who returns home late and empty-handed from the market place. Our best poet, writing a profile of the Caribbean, was quite definite about the fate of Puerto Rico and its symbolic paschal lamb: Puerto Rico my ardent island You are definitely through In a continental setting Your lamb is bleating and bleating Bleating in a lamb stew. or all-embracing answer can be given, for it is of the essence of cultural dynamics that the cross-fertilization of forms, attitudes, values, and approaches should continue as long as the vitality of individual and group differences endures, and further, that they should endure as stimulants and aids toward greater growth. But I believe that at long last we have been successful in achiev- ing our own basic adjustments. We have come to grips with the realities of human misery as they exist in Puerto Rico materially and spiritually. The generation to which I belong has concluded that our own justification for existence is to participate in the struggle for the salvation of our fellowmen, that this calls for opportunities, for freedom, for education, for well-being, for values of expression, of conduct, and of solidarity. We have fur- ther concluded that knowledge, democracy, and modern science are indispensable to the successful prosecution of these goals, and that the traditions which we hold most dear are in no way incom- patible with these other values. We feel rather that they can grow and flourish and take their meaningful significance as integral parts of a great cultured complex. The effort to carry this on is what I have called the peaceful revolution of the forties. During the depression years of the 1930's, Puerto Rico had drifted into a situation of frustration, hopelessness, and despair that brought forth dirges rather than programs for improvements of the dire economic and social situation that had befallen the community. Puerto Rican Lament, one of our noted songs, dealt with the sad plight of the peasant who returns home late and empty-handed from the market place. Our best poet, writing a profile of the Caribbean, was quite definite about the fate of Puerto Rico and its symbolic paschal lamb: Puerto Rico my ardent island You are definitely through In a continental setting Your lamb is bleating and bleating Bleating in a lamb stew. or all-embracing answer can be given, for it is of the essence of cultural dynamics that the cross-fertilization of forms, attitudes, values, and approaches should continue as long as the vitality of individual and group differences endures, and further, that they should endure as stimulants and aids toward greater growth. But I believe that at long last we have been successful in achiev- ing our own basic adjustments. We have come to grips with the realities of human misery as they exist in Puerto Rico materially and spiritually. The generation to which I belong has concluded that our own justification for existence is to participate in the struggle for the salvation of our fellowmen, that this calls for opportunities, for freedom, for education, for well-being, for values of expression, of conduct, and of solidarity. We have fur- ther concluded that knowledge, democracy, and modern science are indispensable to the successful prosecution of these goals, and that the traditions which we hold most dear are in no way incom- patible with these other values. We feel rather that they can grow and flourish and take their meaningful significance as integral parts of a great cultured complex. The effort to carry this on is what I have called the peaceful revolution of the forties. During the depression years of the 1930's, Puerto Rico had drifted into a situation of frustration, hopelessness, and despair that brought forth dirges rather than programs for improvements of the dire economic and social situation that had befallen the community. Puerto Rican Lament, one of our noted songs, dealt with the sad plight of the peasant who returns home late and empty-handed from the market place. Our best poet, writing a profile of the Caribbean, was quite definite about the fate of Puerto Rico and its symbolic paschal lamb: Puerto Rico my ardent island You are definitely through In a continental setting Your lamb is bleating and bleating Bleating in a lamb stew.  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 201 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 201 CULTURAL CONCEPTS Well it might bleat, since our leading economist, looking at the census figure of 1930, had proclaimed that we were already one million too many Puerto Ricans. Most remarkable, perhaps, was that the President of the Insular Senate, at the height of his political career in 1937, declared in his official autobiography that he wished he had been born else- where and that he was training his son as an engineer so that he might, if he wanted to, leave the island. A new political orientation arose in the late 1930's, directed toward a programmed improvement of the social and economic welfare. It was to lead Puerto Ricans from the Slough of Despond to Operation Bootstraps. This political leadership led to the founding of a new party which achieved control of the legislature in the elections of 1940. It provided a new approach to our quandaries. Population, hither- to regarded as our greatest problem, was to be seen as also the key to all possible solutions. After all, man is the measure of all things, and our real job was to turn traditional liabilities into assets. This called for the recognition of the human resources as our chief potential strength. It required the systematic ameliora- tion of man's lot, that he might better himself and better his society. The full impact of this new approach is not reducible to statistical measurements. I will mention a few facts to stimulate your own imagination. In the year 1940 the mortality rate was 18.4 per thousand. Today it is 7.7 per thousand. Life expectancy was 46 years- today it is 61 years. We had then 509 doctors-today we have 1,193. The school enrollment was 298,000-today it is 546,- 000. The net income for Puerto Rico in 1940 was $225,000,- 000-in 1953, $1,000,000,000. In 1940 the birth rate was 34.4 per thousand-today it is 30.5 per thousand. The number of school rooms and teachers increased 75 per cent between 1940 and 1954. Illiteracy has been reduced from 80 per cent in 1900 to 15 per cent now. Well it might bleat, since our leading economist, looking at the census figure of 1930, had proclaimed that we were already one million too many Puerto Ricans. Most remarkable, perhaps, was that the President of the Insular Senate, at the height of his political career in 1937, declared in his official autobiography that he wished he had been born else- where and that he was training his son as an engineer so that he might, if he wanted to, leave the island. A new political orientation arose in the late 1930's, directed toward a programmed improvement of the social and economic welfare. It was to lead Puerto Ricans from the Slough of Despond to Operation Bootstraps. This political leadership led to the founding of a new party which achieved control of the legislature in the elections of 1940. It provided a new approach to our quandaries. Population, hither- to regarded as our greatest problem, was to be seen as also the key to all possible solutions. After all, man is the measure of all things, and our real job was to turn traditional liabilities into assets. This called for the recognition of the human resources as our chief potential strength. It required the systematic ameliora- tion of man's lot, that he might better himself and better his society. The full impact of this new approach is not reducible to statistical measurements. I will mention a few facts to stimulate your own imagination. In the year 1940 the mortality rate was 18.4 per thousand. Today it is 7.7 per thousand. Life expectancy was 46 years- today it is 61 years. We had then 509 doctors-today we have 1,193. The school enrollment was 298,000-today it is 546,- 000. The net income for Puerto Rico in 1940 was $225,000,- 000-in 1953, $1,000,000,000. In 1940 the birth rate was 34.4 per thousand-today it is 30.5 per thousand. The number of school rooms and teachers increased 75 per cent between 1940 and 1954. Illiteracy has been reduced from 80 per cent in 1900 to 15 per cent now. Well it might bleat, since our leading economist, looking at the census figure of 1930, had proclaimed that we were already one million too many Puerto Ricans. Most remarkable, perhaps, was that the President of the Insular Senate, at the height of his political career in 1937, declared in his official autobiography that he wished he had been born else- where and that he was training his son as an engineer so that he might, if he wanted to, leave the island. A new political orientation arose in the late 1930's, directed toward a programmed improvement of the social and economic welfare. It was to lead Puerto Ricans from the Slough of Despond to Operation Bootstraps. This political leadership led to the founding of a new party which achieved control of the legislature in the elections of 1940. It provided a new approach to our quandaries. Population, hither- to regarded as our greatest problem, was to be seen as also the key to all possible solutions. After all, man is the measure of all things, and our real job was to turn traditional liabilities into assets. This called for the recognition of the human resources as our chief potential strength. It required the systematic ameliora- tion of man's lot, that he might better himself and better his society. The full impact of this new approach is not reducible to statistical measurements. I will mention a few facts to stimulate your own imagination. In the year 1940 the mortality rate was 18.4 per thousand. Today it is 7.7 per thousand. Life expectancy was 46 years- today it is 61 years. We had then 509 doctors-today we have 1,193. The school enrollment was 298,000-today it is 546,- 000. The net income for Puerto Rico in 1940 was $225,000,- 000-in 1953, $1,000,000,000. In 1940 the birth rate was 34.4 per thousand-today it is 30.5 per thousand. The number of school rooms and teachers increased 75 per cent between 1940 and 1954. Illiteracy has been reduced from 80 per cent in 1900 to 15 per cent now.  202 The Caribbean 202 The Caribbean The Chase National Bank in the June, 1952, edition of Latin American Highlights referred to Puerto Rico as the area register- ing the greatest progress in all the world during the past decade. My only concern is lest this record of achievement lull us into complacency or marking time. The road ahead is a long one and just as challenging as the one behind. For instance, it will require doubling the current per capita income in Puerto Rico to reach the current per capita income level of the lowest state in the United States (Mississippi). III What is the relationship of the University of Puerto Rico to the progress accomplished since 1940 and its role in the challenge that lies ahead? I will again give you a few facts. The enrollment for 1941-1942 totalled 5,466 students. The budget for the year amounted to a little less than $2,000,000. The faculty numbered 309. Scholarship assistance amounted to $14,784. Our current enrollment is 13,158 students, our budget $11,- 000,000, our regular faculty 727, and our scholarship assistance this year adds up to $657,000. The Puerto Rico program, which has effected a fourfold increase in net income in the past fourteen years, projects a net income goal of $2,000,000,000 within a decade or so. The demand for competently college-trained personnel for such an expanded econ- omy is self-evident. Although the number of university graduates increased 150 per cent in the past twelve years, we have no unemployed university graduates in Puerto Rico. Nor will there be any for a long time. Our changing society has placed a changing emphasis on the demand for different professional skills. This can be seen through a comparison of the rest of the graduates of our university in 1941-1942 and 1953-1954. In 1941-1942, there were but 52 M.A. degrees granted in The Chase National Bank in the June, 1952, edition of Latin American Highlights referred to Puerto Rico as the area register- ing the greatest progress in all the world during the past decade. My only concern is lest this record of achievement lull us into complacency or marking time. The road ahead is a long one and just as challenging as the one behind. For instance, it will require doubling the current per capita income in Puerto Rico to reach the current per capita income level of the lowest state in the United States (Mississippi). III What is the relationship of the University of Puerto Rico to the progress accomplished since 1940 and its role in the challenge that lies ahead? I will again give you a few facts. The enrollment for 1941-1942 totalled 5,466 students. The budget for the year amounted to a little less than $2,000,000. The faculty numbered 309. Scholarship assistance amounted to $14,784. Our current enrollment is 13,158 students, our budget $11,- 000,000, our regular faculty 727, and our scholarship assistance this year adds up to $657,000. The Puerto Rico program, which has effected a fourfold increase in net income in the past fourteen years, projects a net income goal of $2,000,000,000 within a decade or so. The demand for competently college-trained personnel for such an expanded econ- omy is self-evident. Although the number of university graduates increased 150 per cent in the past twelve years, we have no unemployed university graduates in Puerto Rico. Nor will there be any for a long time. Our changing society has placed a changing emphasis on the demand for different professional skills. This can be seen through a comparison of the rest of the graduates of our university in 1941-1942 and 1953-1954. In 1941-1942, there were but 52 M.A. degrees granted in 202 The Caribbean The Chase National Bank in the June, 1952, edition of Latin American Highlights referred to Puerto Rico as the area register- ing the greatest progress in all the world during the past decade. My only concern is lest this record of achievement lull us into complacency or marking time. The road ahead is a long one and just as challenging as the one behind. For instance, it will require doubling the current per capita income in Puerto Rico to reach the current per capita income level of the lowest state in the United States (Mississippi). III What is the relationship of the University of Puerto Rico to the progress accomplished since 1940 and its role in the challenge that lies ahead? I will again give you a few facts. The enrollment for 1941-1942 totalled 5,466 students. The budget for the year amounted to a little less than $2,000,000. The faculty numbered 309. Scholarship assistance amounted to $14,784. Our current enrollment is 13,158 students, our budget $11,- 000,000, our regular faculty 727, and our scholarship assistance this year adds up to $657,000. The Puerto Rico program, which has effected a fourfold increase in net income in the past fourteen years, projects a net income goal of $2,000,000,000 within a decade or so. The demand for competently college-trained personnel for such an expanded econ- omy is self-evident. Although the number of university graduates increased 150 per cent in the past twelve years, we have no unemployed university graduates in Puerto Rico. Nor will there be any for a long time. Our changing society has placed a changing emphasis on the demand for different professional skills. This can be seen through a comparison of the rest of the graduates of our university in 1941-1942 and 1953-1954. In 1941-1942, there were but 52 M.A. degrees granted in  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 203 public health, sanitary sciences, pharmacy, and medical laboratory technology. At our past commencement we graduated 118 in medicine and the allied branches, including the pride of the uni- versity-our first 45 young doctors in medicine. In 1941-1942, we granted 45 degrees in engineering. In 1954, 102 such de- grees were granted. Since the founding of our A & M College at Mayagiiez in 1911, some 1,550 engineers have been graduated. More than two-thirds of these degrees have been granted since 1942, while less than one-third were granted in the 28 previous years. Puerto Rico's industrialization program could be sharply stepped up, and un- employment would show an important drop if we would produce three times the number of graduate engineers we have turned out this past year. We are on our way to do so. Our graduating class of 1957-1958 will contain over 300 graduate engineers who will have completed our five-year curriculum in engineering. In 1941, we graduated 54 students with the degree of Bachelor in Natural Sciences, while in 1954, 113 students received this degree. In the same year, no degrees were offered in social sciences, whereas in this past June, 92 such degrees were con- ferred. Again in 1941, some 22 degrees were granted in business and accounting, and in 1954 this was increased to 99. In 1941- 1946, no degrees were granted in Liberal Arts, as compared with 29 B.A. in humanities degrees granted in 1954. In 1941, 66 B.S. degrees were granted in agriculture, and in June, 1954, only 22 such degrees were granted. Puerto Rico has a great need for professionally trained agri- cultural scientists. Our enrollment in the Faculty of Agriculture has been increased considerably in the past two years. Seventy per cent of the total agricultural enrollment of 360 students are in the freshman and sophomore classes. We expect to graduate ap- proximately 140 B.S. students in agriculture in the class of 1958-1959. Our College of Law has the lowest enrollment of all of our CULTURAL CONCEPTS 203 public health, sanitary sciences, pharmacy, and medical laboratory technology. At our past commencement we graduated 118 in medicine and the allied branches, including the pride of the uni- versity-our first 45 young doctors in medicine. In 1941-1942, we granted 45 degrees in engineering. In 1954, 102 such de- grees were granted. Since the founding of our A & M College at Mayagnlez in 1911, some 1,550 engineers have been graduated. More than two-thirds of these degrees have been granted since 1942, while less than one-third were granted in the 28 previous years. Puerto Rico's industrialization program could be sharply stepped up, and un- employment would show an important drop if we would produce three times the number of graduate engineers we have turned out this past year. We are on our way to do so. Our graduating class of 1957-1958 will contain over 300 graduate engineers who will have completed our five-year curriculum in engineering. In 1941, we graduated 54 students with the degree of Bachelor in Natural Sciences, while in 1954, 113 students received this degree. In the same year, no degrees were offered in social sciences, whereas in this past June, 92 such degrees were con- ferred. Again in 1941, some 22 degrees were granted in business and accounting, and in 1954 this was increased to 99. In 1941- 1946, no degrees were granted in Liberal Arts, as compared with 29 B.A. in humanities degrees granted in 1954. In 1941, 66 B.S. degrees were granted in agriculture, and in June, 1954, only 22 such degrees were granted. Puerto Rico has a great need for professionally trained agri- cultural scientists. Our enrollment in the Faculty of Agriculture has been increased considerably in the past two years. Seventy per cent of the total agricultural enrollment of 360 students are in the freshman and sophomore classes. We expect to graduate ap- proximately 140 B.S. students in agriculture in the class of 1958-1959. Our College of Law has the lowest enrollment of all of our CULTURAL CONCEPTS 203 public health, sanitary sciences, pharmacy, and medical laboratory technology. At our past commencement we graduated 118 in medicine and the allied branches, including the pride of the uni- versity-our first 45 young doctors in medicine. In 1941-1942, we granted 45 degrees in engineering. In 1954, 102 such de- grees were granted. Since the founding of our A & M College at Mayagnez in 1911, some 1,550 engineers have been graduated. More than two-thirds of these degrees have been granted since 1942, while less than one-third were granted in the 28 previous years. Puerto Rico's industrialization program could be sharply stepped up, and un- employment would show an important drop if we would produce three times the number of graduate engineers we have turned out this past year. We are on our way to do so. Our graduating class of 1957-1958 will contain over 300 graduate engineers who will have completed our five-year curriculum in engineering. In 1941, we graduated 54 students with the degree of Bachelor in Natural Sciences, while in 1954, 113 students received this degree. In the same year, no degrees were offered in social sciences, whereas in this past June, 92 such degrees were con- ferred. Again in 1941, some 22 degrees were granted in business and accounting, and in 1954 this was increased to 99. In 1941- 1946, no degrees were granted in Liberal Arts, as compared with 29 B.A. in humanities degrees granted in 1954. In 1941, 66 B.S. degrees were granted in agriculture, and in June, 1954, only 22 such degrees were granted. Puerto Rico has a great need for professionally trained agri- cultural scientists. Our enrollment in the Faculty of Agriculture has been increased considerably in the past two years. Seventy per cent of the total agricultural enrollment of 360 students are in the freshman and sophomore classes. We expect to graduate ap- proximately 140 B.S. students in agriculture in the class of 1958-1959. Our College of Law has the lowest enrollment of all of our  204 The Caribbean colleges. In 1941 a total of 32 LL.B. degrees was granted, as com- pared with 22 in 1954. The university from its foundation has been the principal out- let open to young Puerto Ricans for developing their natural abili- ties and enabling them to put their talents to use, regardless of their economic background. Until that time, aside from the sons of well-to-do families who were sent abroad to study, and the small group of the self-taught, the future of a young man of modest family means was to become a timekeeper, a store clerk, or clerk in some professional office. The university has changed all of this. The opportunity for a university education and for professional training for talented young people has been extended and made possible by a vast system of scholarships. This year the university is spending slightly less than $700,000 on schol- arships and financial aid to enable a substantial number of our best students to continue their studies. In 1946, of a representative sample of 1,148 university fresh- men, 76.3 per cent came from families having an annual income of under $2,000 a year. While the net income of Puerto Rico has almost doubled since 1946, by 1954 we still find some 44.0 per cent of our students belonging to families having an annual income of less than $2,000 a year. From the beginning of the university, women have served as teachers, thus brushing aside the age-old custom and belief that women's place is in the home. No one questions their right to participate in the life of the community, and they, in turn, actively and efficiently carry out their civic responsibilities. More than any other institution, the university has contributed to affording wom- en equal rights in Puerto Rico. Of our total registration of 13,152 students today, 6,127 are women. They are enrolled in all col- leges, and even in the School of Medicine the percentage of women-15 per cent-is higher than the average in medical schools in North America. On our faculty we have 236 women. The university is a regular member of the principal academic and professional associations of higher learning in the United 204 The Caribbean 204 The Caribbean colleges. In 1941 a total of 32 LL.B. degrees was granted, as com- pared with 22 in 1954. The university from its foundation has been the principal out- let open to young Puerto Ricans for developing their natural abili- ties and enabling them to put their talents to use, regardless of their economic background. Until that time, aside from the sons of well-to-do families who were sent abroad to study, and the small group of the self-taught, the future of a young man of modest family means was to become a timekeeper, a store clerk, or clerk in some professional office. The university has changed all of this. The opportunity for a university education and for professional training for talented young people has been extended and made possible by a vast system of scholarships. This year the university is spending slightly less than $700,000 on schol- arships and financial aid to enable a substantial number of our best students to continue their studies. In 1946, of a representative sample of 1,148 university fresh- men, 76.3 per cent came from families having an annual income of under $2,000 a year. While the net income of Puerto Rico has almost doubled since 1946, by 1954 we still find some 44.0 per cent of our students belonging to families having an annual income of less than $2,000 a year. From the beginning of the university, women have served as teachers, thus brushing aside the age-old custom and belief that women's place is in the home. No one questions their right to participate in the life of the community, and they, in turn, actively and efficiently carry out their civic responsibilities. More than any other institution, the university has contributed to affording wom- en equal rights in Puerto Rico. Of our total registration of 13,152 students today, 6,127 are women. They are enrolled in all col- leges, and even in the School of Medicine the percentage of women-15 per cent-is higher than the average in medical schools in North America. On our faculty we have 236 women. The university is a regular member of the principal academic and professional associations of higher learning in the United colleges. In 1941 a total of 32 LL.B. degrees was granted, as com- pared with 22 in 1954. The university from its foundation has been the principal out- let open to young Puerto Ricans for developing their natural abili- ties and enabling them to put their talents to use, regardless of their economic background. Until that time, aside from the sons of well-to-do families who were sent abroad to study, and the small group of the self-taught, the future of a young man of modest family means was to become a timekeeper, a store clerk, or clerk in some professional office. The university has changed all of this. The opportunity for a university education and for professional training for talented young people has been extended and made possible by a vast system of scholarships. This year the university is spending slightly less than $700,000 on schol- arships and financial aid to enable a substantial number of our best students to continue their studies. In 1946, of a representative sample of 1,148 university fresh- men, 76.3 per cent came from families having an annual income of under $2,000 a year. While the net income of Puerto Rico has almost doubled since 1946, by 1954 we still find some 44.0 per cent of our students belonging to families having an annual income of less than $2,000 a year. From the beginning of the university, women have served as teachers, thus brushing aside the age-old custom and belief that women's place is in the home. No one questions their right to participate in the life of the community, and they, in turn, actively and efficiently carry out their civic responsibilities. More than any other institution, the university has contributed to affording wom- en equal rights in Puerto Rico. Of our total registration of 13,152 students today, 6,127 are women. They are enrolled in all col- leges, and even in the School of Medicine the percentage of women-15 per cent-is higher than the average in medical schools in North America. On our faculty we have 236 women. The university is a regular member of the principal academic and professional associations of higher learning in the United  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 205 States-the Middle States Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools, the American Medical Association, the American Associa- tion of Colleges of Pharmacy, the Oak Ridge Institute of Nuclear Studies, the American Council on Education, and others. It is also a charter member of the Union de Universidades Latino- americanas. The university is aware of its commitments and obligations in the common effort to advance knowledge beyond our immediate geographical frontiers. We are deeply sensitive to the many ad- vantages flowing from stimulus from outside. We have 35 profes- sors from Latin America and Europe and 102 from continental United States on our regular faculty. During the past two and a half years, we have had 674 foreign trainees. These trainees have come from 62 foreign countries and territories and were sponsored by the Foreign Operations Adminis- tration (and its predecessors), the United Nations (including Unesco), the Pan American Union and its affiliates, the Inter- American Institute of Agricultural Sciences, and other interna- tional organizations concerned with Technical Assistance pro- grams, as well as individual foreign government training programs. The training programs vary from periods of several weeks' ob- servation and consultation to training workshops of three to six months' duration, as well as enrollment in regular baccalaureate or professional graduate courses. The majority of these trainees received training in the fields of public administration, agricultural research, fundamental educa- tion, agricultural extension, educational supervision, social work, public health, tropical medicine, labor relations, cooperative edu- cation, and rural life improvement. Some 29 special training courses and group training programs have been conducted in the past two and a half years. Numerous faculty members and technicians of the university and its dependencies have been granted leaves of absence to par- ticipate in Technical Assistance programs in a number of Latin CULTURAL CONCEPTS 205 States-the Middle States Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools, the American Medical Association, the American Associa- tion of Colleges of Pharmacy, the Oak Ridge Institute of Nuclear Studies, the American Council on Education, and others. It is also a charter member of the Unidn de Universidades Latino- americanas. The university is aware of its commitments and obligations in the common effort to advance knowledge beyond our immediate geographical frontiers. We are deeply sensitive to the many ad- vantages flowing from stimulus from outside. We have 35 profes- sors from Latin America and Europe and 102 from continental United States on our regular faculty. During the past two and a half years, we have had 674 foreign trainees. These trainees have come from 62 foreign countries and territories and were sponsored by the Foreign Operations Adminis- tration (and its predecessors), the United Nations (including Unesco), the Pan American Union and its affiliates, the Inter- American Institute of Agricultural Sciences, and other interna- tional organizations concerned with Technical Assistance pro- grams, as well as individual foreign government training programs. The training programs vary from periods of several weeks' ob- servation and consultation to training workshops of three to six months' duration, as well as enrollment in regular baccalaureate or professional graduate courses. The majority of these trainees received training in the fields of public administration, agricultural research, fundamental educa- tion, agricultural extension, educational supervision, social work, public health, tropical medicine, labor relations, cooperative edu- cation, and rural life improvement. Some 29 special training courses and group training programs have been conducted in the past two and a half years. Numerous faculty members and technicians of the university and its dependencies have been granted leaves of absence to par- ticipate in Technical Assistance programs in a number of Latin CULTURAL CONCEPTS 205 States-the Middle States Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools, the American Medical Association, the American Associa- tion of Colleges of Pharmacy, the Oak Ridge Institute of Nuclear Studies, the American Council on Education, and others. It is also a charter member of the Union de Universidades Latino- americanas. The university is aware of its commitments and obligations in the common effort to advance knowledge beyond our immediate geographical frontiers. We are deeply sensitive to the many ad- vantages flowing from stimulus from outside. We have 35 profes- sors from Latin America and Europe and 102 from continental United States on our regular faculty. During the past two and a half years, we have had 674 foreign trainees. These trainees have come from 62 foreign countries and territories and were sponsored by the Foreign Operations Adminis- tration (and its predecessors), the United Nations (including Unesco), the Pan American Union and its affiliates, the Inter- American Institute of Agricultural Sciences, and other interna- tional organizations concerned with Technical Assistance pro- grams, as well as individual foreign government training programs. The training programs vary from periods of several weeks' ob- servation and consultation to training workshops of three to six months' duration, as well as enrollment in regular baccalaureate or professional graduate courses. The majority of these trainees received training in the fields of public administration, agricultural research, fundamental educa- tion, agricultural extension, educational supervision, social work, public health, tropical medicine, labor relations, cooperative edu- cation, and rural life improvement. Some 29 special training courses and group training programs have been conducted in the past two and a half years. Numerous faculty members and technicians of the university and its dependencies have been granted leaves of absence to par- ticipate in Technical Assistance programs in a number of Latin  206 The Caribbean American republics, including Brazil, Panama, Cuba, Costa Rica, Paraguay, Haiti, Colombia, Chile, and Mexico. The university lays special emphasis on the study of the social, economic, political, administrative, and educational problems af- fecting the Puerto Rican community. To this end it has set up a Social Science Research Center, and stresses the responsibility of seeking out such knowledge in keeping with the most scrupulous and exact methods and making the results known with complete impartiality. It is a source of satisfaction to us that when such studies have to do with controversial problems, the most opposed groups have repeatedly accepted our findings as a reliable source of information, and have drawn upon our data to support their conflicting points of view. It is impossible today to study a Puerto Rican problem seriously without consulting our extensive univer- sity bibliography. In like manner to what we have done in the field of investiga- tion, we have insisted that our teaching must comply with the most rigorous and uncompromising standards. This demands, first and foremost, a faculty of highest quality, whose tenure, freedom of teaching, opportunities for additional study, investigation, sab- batical leave, retirement, and salary-making full-time occupation with the university duties possible-are guaranteed; and second, those resources of libraries, publications, cultural activities, and stimuli that make academic life pleasant and rewarding. As for our program of study, we have endeavored to combine the practical demands of reality with the appreciation and values of a new, more searching humanism, to the end of eventually understanding and orienting this reality. This is the goal toward which our efforts are directed. We have established a program of general studies-which all our students are required to take- designed to focus attention on the great achievements of human thought. We have worked out a summer program of travel and study in Europe, which makes it possible for hundreds of our students and faculty members to visit the Continent every year. We have organized special art programs, exhibits of great paint- 206 The Caribbean American republics, including Brazil, Panama, Cuba, Costa Rica, Paraguay, Haiti, Colombia, Chile, and Mexico. The university lays special emphasis on the study of the social, economic, political, administrative, and educational problems af- fecting the Puerto Rican community. To this end it has set up a Social Science Research Center, and stresses the responsibility of seeking out such knowledge in keeping with the most scrupulous and exact methods and making the results known with complete impartiality. It is a source of satisfaction to us that when such studies have to do with controversial problems, the most opposed groups have repeatedly accepted our findings as a reliable source of information, and have drawn upon our data to support their conflicting points of view. It is impossible today to study a Puerto Rican problem seriously without consulting our extensive univer- sity bibliography. In like manner to what we have done in the field of investiga- tion, we have insisted that our teaching must comply with the most rigorous and uncompromising standards. This demands, first and foremost, a faculty of highest quality, whose tenure, freedom of teaching, opportunities for additional study, investigation, sab- batical leave, retirement, and salary-making full-time occupation with the university duties possible-are guaranteed; and second, those resources of libraries, publications, cultural activities, and stimuli that make academic life pleasant and rewarding. As for our program of study, we have endeavored to combine the practical demands of reality with the appreciation and values of a new, more searching humanism, to the end of eventually understanding and orienting this reality. This is the goal toward which our efforts are directed. We have established a program of general studies-which all our students are required to take- designed to focus attention on the great achievements of human thought. We have worked out a summer program of travel and study in Europe, which makes it possible for hundreds of our students and faculty members to visit the Continent every year. We have organized special art programs, exhibits of great paint- 206 The Caribbean American republics, including Brazil, Panama, Cuba, Costa Rica, Paraguay, Haiti, Colombia, Chile, and Mexico. The university lays special emphasis on the study of the social, economic, political, administrative, and educational problems af- fecting the Puerto Rican community. To this end it has set up a Social Science Research Center, and stresses the responsibility of seeking out such knowledge in keeping with the most scrupulous and exact methods and making the results known with complete impartiality. It is a source of satisfaction to us that when such studies have to do with controversial problems, the most opposed groups have repeatedly accepted our findings as a reliable source of information, and have drawn upon our data to support their conflicting points of view. It is impossible today to study a Puerto Rican problem seriously without consulting our extensive univer- sity bibliography. In like manner to what we have done in the field of investiga- tion, we have insisted that our teaching must comply with the most rigorous and uncompromising standards. This demands, first and foremost, a faculty of highest quality, whose tenure, freedom of teaching, opportunities for additional study, investigation, sab- batical leave, retirement, and salary-making full-time occupation with the university duties possible-are guaranteed; and second, those resources of libraries, publications, cultural activities, and stimuli that make academic life pleasant and rewarding. As for our program of study, we have endeavored to combine the practical demands of reality with the appreciation and values of a new, more searching humanism, to the end of eventually understanding and orienting this reality. This is the goal toward which our efforts are directed. We have established a program of general studies-which all our students are required to take- designed to focus attention on the great achievements of human thought. We have worked out a summer program of travel and study in Europe, which makes it possible for hundreds of our students and faculty members to visit the Continent every year. We have organized special art programs, exhibits of great paint-  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 207 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 207 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 207 ings, dramatic performances, lectures; we have set up a university press to make available to our student body at low cost the best possible editions of classic or modern works which are difficult to secure in Spanish. Although we have a tendency toward insularity, we have con- ceived of Puerto Rico as a community forming part of Western civilization, a frontier region where at one and the same time the best and the most diverse influences of our culture meet, and where in consequence it is necessary to take stock of the great- nesses, the temptations, the faults, and the possibilities of its way of life. Thus we avoid estrangement from our own ways of life, are able to use our capabilities to the full, and take advantage of the exceptional circumstance which permits us to participate significantly in the great task which lies before men in this cen- tury: the building of the future through understanding, coopera- tion, and freedom. ings, dramatic performances, lectures; we have set up a university press to make available to our student body at low cost the best possible editions of classic or modern works which are difficult to secure in Spanish. Although we have a tendency toward insularity, we have con- ceived of Puerto Rico as a community forming part of Western civilization, a frontier region where at one and the same time the best and the most diverse influences of our culture meet, and where in consequence it is necessary to take stock of the great- nesses, the temptations, the faults, and the possibilities of its way of life. Thus we avoid estrangement from our own ways of life, are able to use our capabilities to the full, and take advantage of the exceptional circumstance which permits us to participate significantly in the great task which lies before men in this cen- tury: the building of the future through understanding, coopera- tion, and freedom. ings, dramatic performances, lectures; we have set up a university press to make available to our student body at low cost the best possible editions of classic or modern works which are difficult to secure in Spanish. Although we have a tendency toward insularity, we have con- ceived of Puerto Rico as a community forming part of Western civilization, a frontier region where at one and the same time the best and the most diverse influences of our culture meet, and where in consequence it is necessary to take stock of the great- nesses, the temptations, the faults, and the possibilities of its way of life. Thus we avoid estrangement from our own ways of life, are able to use our capabilities to the full, and take advantage of the exceptional circumstance which permits us to participate significantly in the great task which lies before men in this cen- tury: the building of the future through understanding, coopera- tion, and freedom.  18 Benjamin A. Cohen: CULTURAL INTEGRATION IN THE CARIBBEAN I INVITE YOU TO COME WITH ME on a flight through the past, the present, and so far as is possible, the future of this area of the Americas. Every time that I have flown over the Caribbean, I have had a very strange and familiar feeling as if I were flying over the Mediterranean. Like the latter, this Caribbean Sea has been a center from which have developed many movements and from which has radiated much that constitutes today our American way of thinking. I call the Caribbean our "American ocean lake," for the speed of communication has made it really as small as lakes are in our geographic conception. Here the western European world planted the first fruitful seeds of discovery since the Columbus pioneering adventure. You all know very well that it was here, in this Caribbean area, where Christianity took its first American roots. Here, too, the first avowed Jews settled to remain through the centuries. Here, too, African religious practices came to be used by large segments of the population. The first Negro slaves brought with them from Africa all their habits and beliefs. And here, too, curiously enough, Hinduism, and other religions of southeastern Asia came for the first time into the American picture. The aborigines of this part of the world, while accepting baptism into the many Christian denominations, added their own religious practices, such Benjamin A. Cohen: CULTURAL INTEGRATION IN THE CARIBBEAN I INVITE YOU TO COME WITH ME on a flight through the past, the present, and so far as is possible, the future of this area of the Americas. Every time that I have flown over the Caribbean, I have had a very strange and familiar feeling as if I were flying over the Mediterranean. Like the latter, this Caribbean Sea has been a center from which have developed many movements and from which has radiated much that constitutes today our American way of thinking. I call the Caribbean our "American ocean lake," for the speed of communication has made it really as small as lakes are in our geographic conception. Here the western European world planted the first fruitful seeds of discovery since the Columbus pioneering adventure. You all know very well that it was here, in this Caribbean area, where Christianity took its first American roots. Here, too, the first avowed Jews settled to remain through the centuries. Here, too, African religious practices came to be used by large segments of the population. The first Negro slaves brought with them from Africa all their habits and beliefs. And here, too, curiously enough, Hinduism, and other religions of southeastern Asia came for the first time into the American picture. The aborigines of this part of the world, while accepting baptism into the many Christian denominations, added their own religious practices, such 208 Benjamin A. Cohen: CULTURAL INTEGRATION IN THE CARIBBEAN I INVITE YOU TO COME WITH ME on a flight through the past, the present, and so far as is possible, the future of this area of the Americas. Every time that I have flown over the Caribbean, I have had a very strange and familiar feeling as if I were flying over the Mediterranean. Like the latter, this Caribbean Sea has been a center from which have developed many movements and from which has radiated much that constitutes today our American way of thinking. I call the Caribbean our "American ocean lake," for the speed of communication has made it really as small as lakes are in our geographic conception. Here the western European world planted the first fruitful seeds of discovery since the Columbus pioneering adventure. You all know very well that it was here, in this Caribbean area, where Christianity took its first American roots. Here, too, the first avowed Jews settled to remain through the centuries. Here, too, African religious practices came to be used by large segments of the population. The first Negro slaves brought with them from Africa all their habits and beliefs. And here, too, curiously enough, Hinduism, and other religions of southeastern Asia came for the first time into the American picture. The aborigines of this part of the world, while accepting baptism into the many Christian denominations, added their own religious practices, such 208  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 209 as those contained in the Popol Vuh, the great sacred book of the Mayas, to the outward expression of the new religious beliefs. The Old and New Testaments, the Bhagavad-Gita, voodoo, all entered our continent through the steppingstones of the Caribbean area. The Antilles thus became a center of new religious experience and integration, from which they spread to all points of the compass. It was from the Antilles that Hernin Corts, Ponce de Leon, Balboa, and many others of the great Spanish discoverers began their journeys. It was from the Antilles and the Caribbean area that the first French privateers and adventurers followed the routes which had been blazed before by the French priests and teachers of the Gospel. It was from the Caribbean area that for a long time British privateers made themselves felt in the lives of the peoples of the Americas. And they all, together with the Dutch who came also during the early days, had operational bases located in this great ocean lake of the Caribbean. In our discussions here on religion, reference was made to the contribution which the Americas began to make from the Carib- bean area to the thought of the world. Those were the broadening of the thinking and of the habits which came about as a result of the contact between two worlds. Father Las Casas, the great "Apostle to the Indians," inspired Francisco de Vitoria in the writ- ing of his Relaciones de Indies, which was and is still considered by modern international law experts as the point of departure of what now constitutes the Law of Nations. He was followed by other Spaniards, by Suirez and Ayala, who made contributions in the field of natural law and in the matter of international law and to the creation of that concept which was to flourish through Grotius in what we call modern international law. This first contact between the two worlds brought about the recognition of the human rights of the aborigines of the Americas by the Church. As a result of the influence of the Church and the CULTURAL CONCEPTS 209 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 209 as those contained in the Popol Vuh, the great sacred book of the as those contained in the Popol Vuh, the great sacred book of the Mayas, to the outward expression of the new religious beliefs. The Mayas, to the outward expression of the new religious beliefs. The Old and New Testaments, the Bhagavad-Gita, voodoo, all entered Old and New Testaments, the Bhagavad-Gita, voodoo, all entered our continent through the steppingstones of the Caribbean area. our continent through the steppingstones of the Caribbean area. The Antilles thus became a center of new religious experience and The Antilles thus became a center of new religious experience and integration, from which they spread to all points of the compass. integration, from which they spread to all points of the compass. It was from the Antilles that Heroin Cortes, Ponce de Leon, It was from the Antilles that Hernin Cortes, Ponce de Leon, Balboa, and many others of the great Spanish discoverers began Balboa, and many others of the great Spanish discoverers began their journeys. It was from the Antilles and the Caribbean area their journeys. It was from the Antilles and the Caribbean area that the first French privateers and adventurers followed the routes that the first French privateers and adventurers followed the routes which had been blazed before by the French priests and teachers which had been blazed before by the French priests and teachers of the Gospel. It was from the Caribbean area that for a long of the Gospel. It was from the Caribbean area that for a long time British privateers made themselves felt in the lives of the time British privateers made themselves felt in the lives of the peoples of the Americas. And they all, together with the Dutch peoples of the Americas. And they all, together with the Dutch who came also during the early days, had operational bases located who came also during the early days, had operational bases located in this great ocean lake of the Caribbean. in this great ocean lake of the Caribbean. I I In our discussions heere on religion, reference was made to the In our discussions here on religion, reference was made to the contribution which the Americas began to make from the Carib- contribution which the Americas began to make from the Carib- bean area to the thought of the world. Those were the broadening bean area to the thought of the world. Those were the broadening of the thinking and of the habits which came about as a result of the thinking and of the habits which came about as a result of the contact between two worlds. Father Las Casas, the great of the contact between two worlds. Father Las Casas, the great "Apostle to the Indians," inspired Francisco de Vitoria in the writ- "Apostle to the Indians," inspired Francisco de Vitoria in the writ- ing of his Relaciones de Indies, which was and is still considered ing of his Relaciones de Indies, which was and is still considered by modern international law experts as the point of departure of by modern international law experts as the point of departure of what now constitutes the Law of Nations. He was followed by what now constitutes the Law of Nations. He was followed by other Spaniards, by SuArez and Ayala, who made contributions in other Spaniards, by Suarez and Ayala, who made contributions in the field of natural law and in the matter of international law the field of natural law and in the matter of international law and to the creation of that concept which was to flourish through and to the creation of that concept which was to flourish through Grotius in what we call modern international law. Grotius in what we call modern international law. This first contact between the two worlds brought about the This first contact between the two worlds brought about the recognition of the human rights of the aborigines of the Americas recognition of the human rights of the aborigines of the Americas by the Church. As a result of the influence of the Church and the by the Church. As a result of the influence of the Church and the  210 The Caribbean 210 The Caribbean 210 The Caribbean Crown of Spain, an extension of practices in Spain gradually be- came also a part of the legislative and moral attitudes of the colonial powers in the Americas. The recognition of the human nature and moral character of the American Indians was to in- fluence the development of one of the most important bodies of law anywhere in the history of man, the Laws of the Indies, which show a tremendously advanced form of thinking and an application of morality to law, which have seldom been surpassed in any effort made up to that time or even since. The foundations of modern international law, established by the Dominican friar who taught at Salamanca, had one very im- portant item which I would like to bring to your attention today. It is the recognition that no monarch, no power, is entitled by any man-made law, or by natural law, or by any form of right, to enslave other people. This was the moderating influence which Vitoria and the Catholic Church in Spain brought to bear upon the actions of the government of the peninsula and of the con- querors who came to our Western Hemisphere. And then-and this has never been sufficiently stressed, I am afraid-we made a contribution to the changing habits of the European people. Foodstuffs of many kinds were taken from the American continent to Europe and became, later on, a part of the dietetics and the domestic economy of the peoples of Europe. It is in this Caribbean area where the first Negroes, brought by Las Casas under the inspiration of his desire to protect the Ameri- can Indian, began to merge with the Indians and with the Euro- peans and to plant the first seeds of what is to become a cosmic American race-a race in which all the bloods of mankind are merged together to create a new type of human being, directed by a spirit which is ecumenical in every respect and which looks toward a new form of life in greater freedom for the individual. The seeds of human rights, planted by Las Casas and other noble apostles in American soil, gradually influenced not only the legis- lation in the countries of Europe that had colonial possession in the Americas, but were to grow into the principles of human Crown of Spain, an extension of practices in Spain gradually be- came also a part of the legislative and moral attitudes of the colonial powers in the Americas. The recognition of the human nature and moral character of the American Indians was to in- fluence the development of one of the most important bodies of law anywhere in the history of man, the Laws of the Indies, which show a tremendously advanced form of thinking and an application of morality to law, which have seldom been surpassed in any effort made up to that time or even since. The foundations of modern international law, established by the Dominican friar who taught at Salamanca, had one very im- portant item which I would like to bring to your attention today. It is the recognition that no monarch, no power, is entitled by any man-made law, or by natural law, or by any form of right, to enslave other people. This was the moderating influence which Vitoria and the Catholic Church in Spain brought to bear upon the actions of the government of the peninsula and of the con- querors who came to our Western Hemisphere. And then-and this has never been sufficiently stressed, I am afraid-we made a contribution to the changing habits of the European people. Foodstuffs of many kinds were taken from the American continent to Europe and became, later on, a part of the dietetics and the domestic economy of the peoples of Europe. It is in this Caribbean area where the first Negroes, brought by Las Casas under the inspiration of his desire to protect the Ameri- can Indian, began to merge with the Indians and with the Euro- peans and to plant the first seeds of what is to become a cosmic American race-a race in which all the bloods of mankind are merged together to create a new type of human being, directed by a spirit which is ecumenical in every respect and which looks toward a new form of life in greater freedom for the individual. The seeds of human rights, planted by Las Casas and other noble apostles in American soil, gradually influenced not only the legis- lation in the countries of Europe that had colonial possession in the Americas, but were to grow into the principles of human Crown of Spain, an extension of practices in Spain gradually be- came also a part of the legislative and moral attitudes of the colonial powers in the Americas. The recognition of the human nature and moral character of the American Indians was to in- fluence the development of one of the most important bodies of law anywhere in the history of man, the Laws of the Indies, which show a tremendously advanced form of thinking and an application of morality to law, which have seldom been surpassed in any effort made up to that time or even since. The foundations of modern international law, established by the Dominican friar who taught at Salamanca, had one very im- portant item which I would like to bring to your attention today. It is the recognition that no monarch, no power, is entitled by any man-made law, or by natural law, or by any form of right, to enslave other people. This was the moderating influence which Vitoria and the Catholic Church in Spain brought to bear upon the actions of the government of the peninsula and of the con- querors who came to our Western Hemisphere. And then-and this has never been sufficiently stressed, I am afraid-we made a contribution to the changing habits of the European people. Foodstuffs of many kinds were taken from the American continent to Europe and became, later on, a part of the dietetics and the domestic economy of the peoples of Europe. It is in this Caribbean area where the first Negroes, brought by Las Casas under the inspiration of his desire to protect the Ameri- can Indian, began to merge with the Indians and with the Euro- peans and to plant the first seeds of what is to become a cosmic American race-a race in which all the bloods of mankind are merged together to create a new type of human being, directed by a spirit which is ecumenical in every respect and which looks toward a new form of life in greater freedom for the individual. The seeds of human rights, planted by Las Casas and other noble apostles in American soil, gradually influenced not only the legis- lation in the countries of Europe that had colonial possession in the Americas, but were to grow into the principles of human  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 211 CULTURAL CONCEPTS dignity and freedom which preceded the movement toward the autonomy and independence of the American colonies. They were propounded, to a large extent, through the writings of the encyclo- pedists and the creators of the American democratic republic. And thus, political independence was won in this continent by the United States, and then, first among the Latin Americas, by the Haitian people who, from a state of cruel slavery, had been able to grow to an enjoyment of autonomy and freedom which gave them the opportunity to help other Latin American countries in the long struggle for independence. It was from the lands surrounding this Caribbean Sea that Miranda and Bolivar worked and fought for the independence of all the peoples in the Americas-yet it has been in the same area that some peoples have taken longer to assert their will to freedom, and it is here, also, that the right of self-determination is still being exercised as an essential right by peoples through diverse constitutional procedures. The Caribbean birthplace of the Ameri- can world still looks into the future with the contagious enthu- siasm of youth. The tempo of evolution has become more and more accelerated under the stimulating influence of the musical rhythms it has given the world, in an irresistible blending of har- monies that touch the sensibilities and force the bodies of men everywhere to dance. II It is in this Caribbean area that some basic experiments of tre- mendous, far-reaching importance to the Americas and to the world are now taking place, many of them fostered by the organi- zation I have the honor to serve-the United Nations. Non-self- governing territories are creating new forms of voluntary political association with their former masters; others are in the throes of internal changes which portend the possibility of a movement toward greater autonomy and independence in the near future. Organized and systematized programs of economic development and social progress are under way with the technical assistance dignity and freedom which preceded the movement toward the autonomy and independence of the American colonies. They were propounded, to a large extent, through the writings of the encyclo- pedists and the creators of the American democratic republic. And thus, political independence was won in this continent by the United States, and then, first among the Latin Americas, by the Haitian people who, from a state of cruel slavery, had been able to grow to an enjoyment of autonomy and freedom which gave them the opportunity to help other Latin American countries in the long struggle for independence. It was from the lands surrounding this Caribbean Sea that Miranda and Bolivar worked and fought for the independence of all the peoples in the Americas-yet it has been in the same area that some peoples have taken longer to assert their will to freedom, and it is here, also, that the right of self-determination is still being exercised as an essential right by peoples through diverse constitutional procedures. The Caribbean birthplace of the Ameri- can world still looks into the future with the contagious enthu- siasm of youth. The tempo of evolution has become more and more accelerated under the stimulating influence of the musical rhythms it has given the world, in an irresistible blending of har- monies that touch the sensibilities and force the bodies of men everywhere to dance. II It is in this Caribbean area that some basic experiments of tre- mendous, far-reaching importance to the Americas and to the world are now taking place, many of them fostered by the organi- zation I have the honor to serve-the United Nations. Non-self- governing territories are creating new forms of voluntary political association with their former masters; others are in the throes of internal changes which portend the possibility of a movement toward greater autonomy and independence in the near future. Organized and systematized programs of economic development and social progress are under way with the technical assistance CULTURAL CONCEPTS 211 dignity and freedom which preceded the movement toward the autonomy and independence of the American colonies. They were propounded, to a large extent, through the writings of the encyclo- pedists and the creators of the American democratic republic. And thus, political independence was won in this continent by the United States, and then, first among the Latin Americas, by the Haitian people who, from a state of cruel slavery, had been able to grow to an enjoyment of autonomy and freedom which gave them the opportunity to help other Latin American countries in the long struggle for independence. It was from the lands surrounding this Caribbean Sea that Miranda and Bolivar worked and fought for the independence of all the peoples in the Americas-yet it has been in the same area that some peoples have taken longer to assert their will to freedom, and it is here, also, that the right of self-determination is still being exercised as an essential right by peoples through diverse constitutional procedures. The Caribbean birthplace of the Ameri- can world still looks into the future with the contagious enthu- siasm of youth. The tempo of evolution has become more and more accelerated under the stimulating influence of the musical rhythms it has given the world, in an irresistible blending of har- monies that touch the sensibilities and force the bodies of men everywhere to dance. II It is in this Caribbean area that some basic experiments of tre- mendous, far-reaching importance to the Americas and to the world are now taking place, many of them fostered by the organi- zation I have the honor to serve-the United Nations. Non-self- governing territories are creating new forms of voluntary political association with their former masters; others are in the throes of internal changes which portend the possibility of a movement toward greater autonomy and independence in the near future. Organized and systematized programs of economic development and social progress are under way with the technical assistance  212 The Caribbean and cooperation of the United Nations, of the Organization of American States, of the Colombo Plan of the British Common- wealth of Nations, and of the Foreign Operations Administration, which has been substituted for the former Point IV of the United States of America. Some of these plans are in the field of fundamental education. There is now operating at Pitzcuaro, in Mexico, a center for fundamental education, a pilot project where teachers from prac- tically all the countries in Latin America and a few from other areas of the world, are trying to find the answers to the problem of how to give the peoples some basic instruction, as well as knowl- edge of methods through which they can improve their own lives. Fundamental education, as practiced and now being developed at PAtzcuaro, is not merely the learning of the "three R's"; it is the adaptation of methods of agriculture, of sanitation and public health, of general social organization for use by people who find themselves in varying degrees of social and economic development. I know that the first results of the training afforded by Pitzcuaro are already being spread practically all over our continent, and that many of the methods which were advocated or have been developed there will be in common use in order to develop a greater degree of education among the masses of the Americas. We have also another project under way which I think is of special interest today. It is a project which promotes the integra- tion of the basic interests in the lives of the peoples in Central America and which looks forward to a much broader scope of application after this pilot operation has shown its results through- out the Americas, and, perhaps, to application in other similarly less-developed economic areas of the world. Through the action of the United Nations Regional Economic Commission for Latin America, special studies have been conducted with the full co- operation of the governments of the five Central American nations in order to find those areas of common interest in which they can reach agreements to facilitate the development, jointly and indi- vidually, of their economies, to create better facilities for trade 212 The Caribbean 212 The Caribbean and cooperation of the United Nations, of the Organization of American States, of the Colombo Plan of the British Common- wealth of Nations, and of the Foreign Operations Administration, which has been substituted for the former Point IV of the United States of America. Some of these plans are in the field of fundamental education. There is now operating at Pitzcuaro, in Mexico, a center for fundamental education, a pilot project where teachers from prac- tically all the countries in Latin America and a few from other areas of the world, are trying to find the answers to the problem of how to give the peoples some basic instruction, as well as knowl- edge of methods through which they can improve their own lives. Fundamental education, as practiced and now being developed at Pitzcuaro, is not merely the learning of the "three R's"; it is the adaptation of methods of agriculture, of sanitation and public health, of general social organization for use by people who find themselves in varying degrees of social and economic development. I know that the first results of the training afforded by Pitzcuaro are already being spread practically all over our continent, and that many of the methods which weere advocated or have been developed there will be in common use in order to develop a greater degree of education among the masses of the Americas. We have also another project under way which I think is of special interest today. It is a project which promotes the integra- tion of the basic interests in the lives of the peoples in Central America and which looks forward to a much broader scope of application after this pilot operation has shown its results through- out the Americas, and, perhaps, to application in other similarly less-developed economic areas of the world. Through the action of the United Nations Regional Economic Commission for Latin America, special studies have been conducted with the full co- operation of the governments of the five Central American nations in order to find those areas of common interest in which they can reach agreements to facilitate the development, jointly and indi- vidually, of their economies, to create better facilities for trade and cooperation of the United Nations, of the Organization of American States, of the Colombo Plan of the British Common- wealth of Nations, and of the Foreign Operations Administration, which has been substituted for the former Point IV of the United States of America. Some of these plans are in the field of fundamental education. There is now operating at Pitzcuaro, in Mexico, a center for fundamental education, a pilot project where teachers from prac- tically all the countries in Latin America and a few from other areas of the world, are trying to find the answers to the problem of how to give the peoples some basic instruction, as well as knowl- edge of methods through which they can improve their own lives. Fundamental education, as practiced and now being developed at Pitzcuaro, is not merely the learning of the "three R's"; it is the adaptation of methods of agriculture, of sanitation and public health, of general social organization for use by people who find themselves in varying degrees of social and economic development. I know that the first results of the training afforded by Patzcuaro are already being spread practically all over our continent, and that many of the methods which were advocated or have been developed there will be in common use in order to develop a greater degree of education among the masses of the Americas. We have also another project under way which I think is of special interest today. It is a project which promotes the integra- tion of the basic interests in the lives of the peoples in Central America and which looks forward to a much broader scope of application after this pilot operation has shown its results through- out the Americas, and, perhaps, to application in other similarly less-developed economic areas of the world. Through the action of the United Nations Regional Economic Commission for Latin America, special studies have been conducted with the full co- operation of the governments of the five Central American nations in order to find those areas of common interest in which they can reach agreements to facilitate the development, jointly and indi- vidually, of their economies, to create better facilities for trade  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 213 among themselves, and to make available to each other whatever advantages one of them is able to secure. This project already has resulted in some very unusual develop- ments. First, there is a school of public administration, in full operation now, which will be used by the five Central American nations to prepare people for the complex problems of running the governments. Technicians will be trained heere; men who some day will become political leaders will be able to secure at this school all those essential techniques which are indispensable to run efficiently, and to the advantage of the people, any govern- mental service. Another very important center of Central American cooperation has been set up through the agreement of the five republics to adopt a common customs nomenclature. Just to show you what this means, one of the Central American countries had several thousand individual classification items in its customs tariff. The new inter-American classification contains only about five hundred. Also through agreement of the five Central American countries, those classifications are being reduced to a number of standard classes and groups, which will facilitate enormously not only inter-Central American trade, but also the trade of the Cen- tral American countries-particularly their import trade-with the rest of the world. There are centers, moreover, which are training people for social welfare services in Central America, and some of those activities, too, are being developed elsewhere in the Caribbean area. But what is most important is that all these activities to bring about a rising standard of living to improve the social welfare conditions in which the peoples live are producing the very desir- able results of bringing together, into closer cooperation, the men of the whole of the area, who exchange their experiences on the basis of friendly equality and who help each other in developing larger and more ambitious plans. One thing that we still need very badly in this area, as we do throughout the so-called less economically developed regions of the CULTURAL CONCEPTS 213 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 213 among themselves, and to make available to each other whatever among themselves, and to make available to each other whatever advantages one of them is able to secure. advantages one of them is able to secure. This project already has resulted in some very unusual develop- This project already has resulted in some very unusual develop- ments. First, there is a school of public administration, in full ments. First, there is a school of public administration, in full operation now, which will be used by the five Central American operation now, which will be used by the five Central American nations to prepare people for the complex problems of running the nations to prepare people for the complex problems of running the governments. Technicians will be trained here; men who some governments. Technicians will be trained here; men who some day will become political leaders will be able to secure at this day will become political leaders will be able to secure at this school all those essential techniques which are indispensable to school all those essential techniques which are indispensable to run efficiently, and to the advantage of the people, any govern- run efficiently, and to the advantage of the people, any govern- mental service. mental service. Another very important center of Central American cooperation Another very important center of Central American cooperation has been set up through the agreement of the five republics to has been set up through the agreement of the five republics to adopt a common customs nomenclature. Just to show you what adopt a common customs nomenclature. Just to show you what this means, one of the Central American countries had several this means, one of the Central American countries had several thousand individual classification items in its customs tariff. thousand individual classification items in its customs tariff. The new inter-American classification contains only about five The new inter-American classification contains only about five hundred. Also through agreement of the five Central American hundred. Also through agreement of the five Central American countries, those classifications are being reduced to a number of countries, those classifications are being reduced to a number of standard classes and groups, which will facilitate enormously not standard classes and groups, which will facilitate enormously not only inter-Central American trade, but also the trade of the Cen- only inter-Central American trade, but also the trade of the Cen- tral American countries-particularly their import trade-with tral American countries-particularly their import trade-with the rest of the world. There are centers, moreover, which are the rest of the world. There are centers, moreover, which are training people for social welfare services in Central America, and training people for social welfare services in Central America, and some of those activities, too, are being developed elsewhere in the some of those activities, too, are being developed elsewhere in the Caribbean area. Caribbean area. But what is most important is that all these activities to bring But what is most important is that all these activities to bring about a rising standard of living to improve the social welfare about a rising standard of living to improve the social welfare conditions in which the peoples live are producing the very desir- conditions in which the peoples live are producing the very desir- able results of bringing together, into closer cooperation, the men able results of bringing together, into closer cooperation, the men of the whole of the area, who exchange their experiences on the of the whole of the area, who exchange their experiences on the basis of friendly equality and who help each other in developing basis of friendly equality and who help each other in developing larger and more ambitious plans, larger and more ambitious plans. One thing that we still need very badly in this area, as we do One thing that we still need very badly in this area, as we do throughout the so-called less economically developed regions of the throughout the so-called less economically developed regions of the  214 The Caribbean world, is the mobilization of capital resources which will allow our countries and our peoples to establish means of larger pro- ductivity, to exploit their now fallow and unused natural re- sources, and to extend the social welfare services so that peoples, who unfortunately live still to a large extent under the blight of ignorance, sickness, and destitution, may rise to a much more developed standard and thus join in the common task of all human beings who inhabit the Americas, which is to create the kind of a world which the founders of our nationalities visualized, and which is the minimum that all human beings have a right to expect in our day. We are trying to establish a system to mobilize our own eco- nomic reserves-and may I say parenthetically, that those reserves are quite abundant in some of our countries, where the old and already finished type of exploitation capital developed the national resources and has left some of the proceeds to be accumulated. Much of that capital is now coming to the surface and being used for the development of programs of economic well-being. But since our own capital resources are insufficient, in the United Nations we are studying-and considerable progress has been made-the means to bring about a larger availability of capital to the countries in this area and in the rest of the Americas. This capital would be invested in a manner which would entail no submission to any foreign influence and no political strings, but which would accomplish a form of cooperation of the richer and more advanced peoples of the world to improve conditions among the populations of the less-developed areas. Another thing which is of tremendous importance is the rate of growth of our population. In this area the rate of yearly in- crease in population is higher than that of the United States of America. This is due not only to the fact that social medicine has made great progress, that the governments are busying them- selves more and more with sanitation, but also to the fact that better food and the better living conditions which people are now gradually acquiring, give them protection against some of the most 214 The Caribbean world, is the mobilization of capital resources which will allow our countries and our peoples to establish means of larger pro- ductivity, to exploit their now fallow and unused natural re- sources, and to extend the social welfare services so that peoples, who unfortunately live still to a large extent under the blight of ignorance, sickness, and destitution, may rise to a much more developed standard and thus join in the common task of all human beings who inhabit the Americas, which is to create the kind of a world which the founders of our nationalities visualized, and which is the minimum that all human beings have a right to expect in our day. We are trying to establish a system to mobilize our own eco- nomic reserves-and may I say parenthetically, that those reserves are quite abundant in some of our countries, where the old and already finished type of exploitation capital developed the national resources and has left some of the proceeds to be accumulated. Much of that capital is now coming to the surface and being used for the development of programs of economic well-being. But since our own capital resources are insufficient, in the United Nations we are studying-and considerable progress has been made-the means to bring about a larger availability of capital to the countries in this area and in the rest of the Americas. This capital would be invested in a manner which would entail no submission to any foreign influence and no political strings, but which would accomplish a form of cooperation of the richer and more advanced peoples of the world to improve conditions among the populations of the less-developed areas. Another thing which is of tremendous importance is the rate of growth of our population. In this area the rate of yearly in- crease in population is higher than that of the United States of America. This is due not only to the fact that social medicine has made great progress, that the governments are busying them- selves more and more with sanitation, but also to the fact that better food and the better living conditions which people are now gradually acquiring, give them protection against some of the most 214 The Caribbean world, is the mobilization of capital resources which will allow our countries and our peoples to establish means of larger pro- ductivity, to exploit their now fallow and unused natural re- sources, and to extend the social welfare services so that peoples, who unfortunately live still to a large extent under the blight of ignorance, sickness, and destitution, may rise to a much more developed standard and thus join in the common task of all human beings who inhabit the Americas, which is to create the kind of a world which the founders of our nationalities visualized, and which is the minimum that all human beings have a right to expect in our day. We are trying to establish a system to mobilize our own eco- nomic reserves-and may I say parenthetically, that those reserves are quite abundant in some of our countries, where the old and already finished type of exploitation capital developed the national resources and has left some of the proceeds to be accumulated. Much of that capital is now coming to the surface and being used for the development of programs of economic well-being. But since our own capital resources are insufficient, in the United Nations we are studying-and considerable progress has been made-the means to bring about a larger availability of capital to the countries in this area and in the rest of the Americas. This capital would be invested in a manner which would entail no submission to any foreign influence and no political strings, but which would accomplish a form of cooperation of the richer and more advanced peoples of the world to improve conditions among the populations of the less-developed areas. Another thing which is of tremendous importance is the rate of growth of our population. In this area the rate of yearly in- crease in population is higher than that of the United States of America. This is due not only to the fact that social medicine has made great progress, that the governments are busying them- selves more and more with sanitation, but also to the fact that better food and the better living conditions which people are now gradually acquiring, give them protection against some of the most  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 215 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 215 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 215 dangerous ailments which arise out of undernourishment and poverty. Our population is growing by leaps and bounds through the importation or through the acceptance of large numbers of immigrants coming from European areas and even from some non- European parts of the world. Immigrants are now repeating the adventure of the Pilgrim Fathers and of many others who, in the early days of the Americas, came to this continent not only in pursuit of gold, as has been claimed unjustly, but also in search of freedom of religion and in order to find a greater measure of security for themselves and their families. The current of immi- gration now established is being felt in many parts of the Carib- bean area-I would like to point out the fact that Venezuela has been one of the principal receiving countries during the last few years. III Never have the nations and the peoples of the Caribbean area and the Latin American continent in general, played a more decisive role in the affairs of the world community than they do now. And their awareness of their common destiny grows through education and is promoted by the contemporary media of mass communication; the people draw closer together to fend away any dangers which might beset the democratic institutions, be they of the extreme right or of the extreme left. Our peoples are growing in political education; they have also realized, more and more, that we live in a world of interdependence, and that therefore it is a part of the task of every individual nation and of every indi- vidual person to participate in this new type of world relations, which is no longer merely bilateral but is of a multilateral nature, embracing a very broad and all-inclusive segment of life. The principles of the Charter of the United Nations are deeply rooted among the basic traditions and beliefs of our peoples, and the universities in this area are becoming unanimous in voicing the hopes and aspirations which determine the actions of the people in the Western Hemisphere. Some of them, the University of Puerto dangerous ailments which arise out of undernourishment and poverty. Our population is growing by leaps and bounds through the importation or through the acceptance of large numbers of immigrants coming from European areas and even from some non- European parts of the world. Immigrants are now repeating the adventure of the Pilgrim Fathers and of many others who, in the early days of the Americas, came to this continent not only in pursuit of gold, as has been claimed unjustly, but also in search of freedom of religion and in order to find a greater measure of security for themselves and their families. The current of immi- gration now established is being felt in many parts of the Carib- bean area-I would like to point out the fact that Venezuela has been one of the principal receiving countries during the last few years. III Never have the nations and the peoples of the Caribbean area and the Latin American continent in general, played a more decisive role in the affairs of the world community than they do now. And their awareness of their common destiny grows through education and is promoted by the contemporary media of mass communication; the people draw closer together to fend away any dangers which might beset the democratic institutions, be they of the extreme right or of the extreme left. Our peoples are growing in political education; they have also realized, more and more, that we live in a world of interdependence, and that therefore it is a part of the task of every individual nation and of every indi- vidual person to participate in this new type of world relations, which is no longer merely bilateral but is of a multilateral nature, embracing a very broad and all-inclusive segment of life. The principles of the Charter of the United Nations are deeply rooted among the basic traditions and beliefs of our peoples, and the universities in this area are becoming unanimous in voicing the hopes and aspirations which determine the actions of the people in the Western Hemisphere. Some of them, the University of Puerto dangerous ailments which arise out of undernourishment and poverty. Our population is growing by leaps and bounds through the importation or through the acceptance of large numbers of immigrants coming from European areas and even from some non- European parts of the world. Immigrants are now repeating the adventure of the Pilgrim Fathers and of many others who, in the early days of the Americas, came to this continent not only in pursuit of gold, as has been claimed unjustly, but also in search of freedom of religion and in order to find a greater measure of security for themselves and their families. The current of immi- gration now established is being felt in many parts of the Carib- bean area-I would like to point out the fact that Venezuela has been one of the principal receiving countries during the last few years. III Never have the nations and the peoples of the Caribbean area and the Latin American continent in general, played a more decisive role in the affairs of the world community than they do now. And their awareness of their common destiny grows through education and is promoted by the contemporary media of mass communication; the people draw closer together to fend away any dangers which might beset the democratic institutions, be they of the extreme right or of the extreme left. Our peoples are growing in political education; they have also realized, more and more, that we live in a world of interdependence, and that therefore it is a part of the task of every individual nation and of every indi- vidual person to participate in this new type of world relations, which is no longer merely bilateral but is of a multilateral nature, embracing a very broad and all-inclusive segment of life. The principles of the Charter of the United Nations are deeply rooted among the basic traditions and beliefs of our peoples, and the universities in this area are becoming unanimous in voicing the hopes and aspirations which determine the actions of the people in the Western Hemisphere. Some of them, the University of Puerto  216 The Caribbean 216 The Caribbean 216 The Caribbean Rico, for example, are doing a tremendous job of intercultural exchange and of cultural integration that will be followed very shortly, I am sure, by other universities in this area and elsewhere in Latin America. Universities, such as that of Florida, have given tremendous impetus to this work of considering, on a friendly basis, the common problems for the coexistence of the different cultures and of the different national interests living together in this Western Hemisphere. I wish to close these few words by paraphrasing the motto of the University of Mexico. Through the mouths of our universities will speak the spirit of the New World that we are creating: a New World which is not set up in antagonism to any other seg- ment of the planet and which will not depart far from the old traditions upon which we have built our own heritage; a New World which wishes to take pride in a further development and enjoyment of basic human rights and freedoms by everyone who seeks our hospitality, by everyone who is born into our national community, and by everyone who wishes to join with us in creat- ing a better world for all mankind. The United Nations is tre- mendously interested in this very rapid awakening which is now under way throughout the American world. We feel that in many of the events which now are taking place we can see, already, some part of the picture of tomorrow. We believe that political freedom, a greater development of education, and a much larger enjoyment of true equality will some day emerge from the efforts that the Americas are now making within the United Nations and the Organization of American States, as well as within themselves, in order that they may live up to the highest ideals of our cosmic civilizations. Rico, for example, are doing a tremendous job of intercultural exchange and of cultural integration that will be followed very shortly, I am sure, by other universities in this area and elsewhere in Latin America. Universities, such as that of Florida, have given tremendous impetus to this work of considering, on a friendly basis, the common problems for the coexistence of the different cultures and of the different national interests living together in this Western Hemisphere. I wish to close these few words by paraphrasing the motto of the University of Mexico. Through the mouths of our universities will speak the spirit of the New World that we are creating: a New World which is not set up in antagonism to any other seg- ment of the planet and which will not depart far from the old traditions upon which we have built our own heritage; a New World which wishes to take pride in a further development and enjoyment of basic human rights and freedoms by everyone who seeks our hospitality, by everyone who is born into our national community, and by everyone who wishes to join with us in creat- ing a better world for all mankind. The United Nations is tre- mendously interested in this very rapid awakening which is now under way throughout the American world. We feel that in many of the events which now are taking place we can see, already, some part of the picture of tomorrow. We believe that political freedom, a greater development of education, and a much larger enjoyment of true equality will some day emerge from the efforts that the Americas are now making within the United Nations and the Organization of American States, as well as within themselves, in order that they may live up to the highest ideals of our cosmic civilizations. Rico, for example, are doing a tremendous job of intercultural exchange and of cultural integration that will be followed very shortly, I am sure, by other universities in this area and elsewhere in Latin America. Universities, such as that of Florida, have given tremendous impetus to this work of considering, on a friendly basis, the common problems for the coexistence of the different cultures and of the different national interests living together in this Western Hemisphere. I wish to close these few words by paraphrasing the motto of the University of Mexico. Through the mouths of our universities will speak the spirit of the New World that we are creating: a New World which is not set up in antagonism to any other seg- ment of the planet and which will not depart far from the old traditions upon which we have built our own heritage; a New World which wishes to take pride in a further development and enjoyment of basic human rights and freedoms by everyone who seeks our hospitality, by everyone who is born into our national community, and by everyone who wishes to join with us in creat- ing a better world for all mankind. The United Nations is tre- mendously interested in this very rapid awakening which is now under way throughout the American world. We feel that in many of the events which now are taking place we can see, already, some part of the picture of tomorrow. We believe that political freedom, a greater development of education, and a much larger enjoyment of true equality will some day emerge from the efforts that the Americas are now making within the United Nations and the Organization of American States, as well as within themselves, in order that they may live up to the highest ideals of our cosmic civilizations.  19 Kenneth Holland: THE DEVELOPMENT OF CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE AMERICAS IN RECENT MONTHS we have seen some manifestations of what I believe is a return of interest in the relations between the Americas. President Eisenhower has indicated a strong desire to establish closer relations with Latin America, and he has reaf- firmed our official belief in the "Good Neighbor Policy" of Cordell Hull and Franklin Roosevelt regarding the interdependence of all the republics in this Hemisphere. Last year, Milton Eisenhower was sent on a special mission to seek "ways in which the traditional bonds of friendship between the United States and the nations of Latin America might be strengthened." In the report subsequently submitted by Dr. Eisen- hower, four aspects of inter-American relations were defined: the economic, the military, the political, and the cultural. On the first, Dr. Eisenhower stated categorically that "the economic well- being of every section and every special interest group in the United States is affected by our relations with Latin America," and, equally, "our market is indispensable to the well-being of the other American republics." As' for military relations, he stressed our interdependence in the event of war. Politically, he declared the arguments that justified the Monroe Doctrine in 1823 are "truly mighty in the shrunken world of today" and that "despite differences and serious misunderstandings from time to 217 19 Kenneth Holland: THE DEVELOPMENT OF CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE AMERICAS IN RECENT MONTHS we have seen some manifestations of what I believe is a return of interest in the relations between the Americas. President Eisenhower has indicated a strong desire to establish closer relations with Latin America, and he has reaf- firmed our official belief in the "Good Neighbor Policy" of Cordell Hull and Franklin Roosevelt regarding the interdependence of all the republics in this Hemisphere. Last year, Milton Eisenhower was sent on a special mission to seek "ways in which the traditional bonds of friendship between the United States and the nations of Latin America might be strengthened." In the report subsequently submitted by Dr. Eisen- hower, four aspects of inter-American relations were defined: the economic, the military, the political, and the cultural. On the first, Dr. Eisenhower stated categorically that "the economic well- being of every section and every special interest group in the United States is affected by our relations with Latin America," and, equally, "our market is indispensable to the well-being of the other American republics." As for military relations, he stressed our interdependence in the event of war. Politically, he declared the arguments that justified the Monroe Doctrine in 1823 are "truly mighty in the shrunken world of today" and that "despite differences and serious misunderstandings from time to 217 Kenneth Holland: THE DEVELOPMENT OF CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE AMERICAS IN RECENT MONTHS we have seen some manifestations of what I believe is a return of interest in the relations between the Americas. President Eisenhower has indicated a strong desire to establish closer relations with Latin America, and he has reaf- firmed our official belief in the "Good Neighbor Policy" of Cordell Hull and Franklin Roosevelt regarding the interdependence of all the republics in this Hemisphere. Last year, Milton Eisenhower was sent on a special mission to seek "ways in which the traditional bonds of friendship between the United States and the nations of Latin America might be strengthened." In the report subsequently submitted by Dr. Eisen- hower, four aspects of inter-American relations were defined: the economic, the military, the political, and the cultural. On the first, Dr. Eisenhower stated categorically that "the economic well- being of every section and every special interest group in the United States is affected by our relations with Latin America," and, equally, "our market is indispensable to the well-being of the other American republics." As for military relations, he stressed our interdependence in the event of war. Politically, he declared the arguments that justified the Monroe Doctrine in 1823 are "truly mighty in the shrunken world of today" and that "despite differences and serious misunderstandings from time to  218 The Caribbean time, the record of the American nations in settling disputes by peaceful means has been unique, and has largely saved this Hemi- sphere from the destruction and bloodshed which have so often occurred in other parts of the world." It is the fourth, the cultural, aspect of inter-American relations which concerns the majority of us here. Dr. Eisenhower, I be- lieve, expressed the sentiments of us all when he said, "The true significance of cultural interchange is this: Abiding cooperation among nations toward common goals must be based on genuine understanding and mutual respect; economic cooperation, political cooperation, and military cooperation may break down under the strain of crisis unless there is much more than superficial under- standing of one another's cultures, problems and aspirations." If the peoples of the two American continents are to have more than superficial understanding of each other, we must make use of all possible avenues of attaining and interchanging knowledge. The problems we face may loom very large, when we consider the basic differences in cultural and religious heritage, the barriers of language, of distance, and of our fairly considerable ignorance of each other. I think it is fair to say that the majority of the United States children, and perhaps adults as well, still believe that the Plymouth Colony marked the earliest settlement of any value in the Western Hemisphere, that Harvard is the oldest university in the Americas, that the early Spanish conquerors concentrated on plundering and exploiting the Indians (whereas the English settlers made friends with the red man), that the United States has the "biggest and best" of everything, and that all technological "progress" has centered here. It is perhaps also fair to say that many Latin Americans still regard the United States as a materi- alistic land population by Babbitts, where one comes to study engi- neering or agriculture, but never art, music, or the "cultural" subjects. It is certainly true that during our relatively short history the 218 The Caribbean 218 The Caribbean time, the record of the American nations in settling disputes by peaceful means has been unique, and has largely saved this Hemi- sphere from the destruction and bloodshed which have so often occurred in other parts of the world." It is the fourth, the cultural, aspect of inter-American relations which concerns the majority of us here. Dr. Eisenhower, I be- lieve, expressed the sentiments of us all when he said, "The true significance of cultural interchange is this: Abiding cooperation among nations toward common goals must be based on genuine understanding and mutual respect; economic cooperation, political cooperation, and military cooperation may break down under the strain of crisis unless there is much more than superficial under- standing of one another's cultures, problems and aspirations." If the peoples of the two American continents are to have more than superficial understanding of each other, we must make use of all possible avenues of attaining and interchanging knowledge. The problems we face may loom very large, when we consider the basic differences in cultural and religious heritage, the barriers of language, of distance, and of our fairly considerable ignorance of each other. I think it is fair to say that the majority of the United States children, and perhaps adults as well, still believe that the Plymouth Colony marked the earliest settlement of any value in the Western Hemisphere, that Harvard is the oldest university in the Americas, that the early Spanish conquerors concentrated on plundering and exploiting the Indians (whereas the English settlers made friends with the red man), that the United States has the "biggest and best" of everything, and that all technological "progress" has centered here. It is perhaps also fair to say that many Latin Americans still regard the United States as a materi- alistic land population by Babbitts, where one comes to study engi- neering or agriculture, but never art, music, or the "cultural" subjects. It is certainly true that during our relatively short history the time, the record of the American nations in settling disputes by peaceful means has been unique, and has largely saved this Hemi- sphere from the destruction and bloodshed which have so often occurred in other parts of the world." It is the fourth, the cultural, aspect of inter-American relations which concerns the majority of us heere. Dr. Eisenhower, I be- lieve, expressed the sentiments of us all when he said, "The true significance of cultural interchange is this: Abiding cooperation among nations toward common goals must be based on genuine understanding and mutual respect; economic cooperation, political cooperation, and military cooperation may break down under the strain of crisis unless there is much more than superficial under- standing of one another's cultures, problems and aspirations." If the peoples of the two American continents are to have more than superficial understanding of each other, we must make use of all possible avenues of attaining and interchanging knowledge. The problems we face may loom very large, when we consider the basic differences in cultural and religious heritage, the barriers of language, of distance, and of our fairly considerable ignorance of each other. I think it is fair to say that the majority of the United States children, and perhaps adults as well, still believe that the Plymouth Colony marked the earliest settlement of any value in the Western Hemisphere, that Harvard is the oldest university in the Americas, that the early Spanish conquerors concentrated on plundering and exploiting the Indians (whereas the English settlers made friends with the red man), that the United States has the "biggest and best" of everything, and that all technological "progress" has centered here. It is perhaps also fair to say that many Latin Americans still regard the United States as a materi- alistic land population by Babbitts, where one comes to study engi- neering or agriculture, but never art, music, or the "cultural" subjects. It is certainly true that during our relatively short history the  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 219 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 219 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 219 Anglo-American and Latin-American cultures have developed al- most entirely independently, built on different foundations and, beyond the ties of political and economic expediency, have had little contact with each other over the years. It is not surprising that we in the United States know very little about Latin America, its culture, its great cities, and its history, or that many of us chauvinistically exaggerate the im- portance of early English America, as contrasted with the colonies of Portugal, Spain, and France. We really do not even know the history of our own country: New Englanders will often point out Old North Church in Boston as the oldest church in America, in ignorance of the adobe mission churches of the Southwest, where European forms joined with Indian workmen and materials to create some of the most beautiful buildings in America. It is not surprising that Latin Americans should know so little of us, although I think we must admit that their knowledge of us exceeds our knowledge of them. This is partly due to our govern- ment's cultural relations programs, to which I shall refer later, and partly to the fact that their newspapers carry a great deal of news from the United States. Yet there is much room for greater knowledge and understanding. As we become increasingly inter- dependent with the years, we will need to develop our relation- ships and extend our cross-cultural contacts. In order to evolve a sound program, we should have a knowl- edge of what has gone on before between the Americas, under the name of "cultural relations"-a name, incidentally, which Archi- bald MacLeish has rightly deplored as being boring, pompous, and clumsy. Yet, as he points out, it at least has the attributes of gentility and virtue, and, furthermore, is the only name which we have for this particular form of international activity. If The first Europeans to explore our pair of continents were, of course, adventurers whose ships sailed under Spanish flags in Anglo-American and Latin-American cultures have developed al- most entirely independently, built on different foundations and, beyond the ties of political and economic expediency, have had little contact with each other over the years. It is not surprising that we in the United States know very little about Latin America, its culture, its great cities, and its history, or that many of us chauvinistically exaggerate the im- portance of early English America, as contrasted with the colonies of Portugal, Spain, and France. We really do not even know the history of our own country: New Englanders will often point out Old North Church in Boston as the oldest church in America, in ignorance of the adobe mission churches of the Southwest, where European forms joined with Indian workmen and materials to create some of the most beautiful buildings in America. It is not surprising that Latin Americans should know so little of us, although I think we must admit that their knowledge of us exceeds our knowledge of them. This is partly due to our govern- ment's cultural relations programs, to which I shall refer later, and partly to the fact that their newspapers carry a great deal of news from the United States. Yet there is much room for greater knowledge and understanding. As we become increasingly inter- dependent with the years, we will need to develop our relation- ships and extend our cross-cultural contacts. In order to evolve a sound program, we should have a knowl- edge of what has gone on before between the Americas, under the name of "cultural relations"-a name, incidentally, which Archi- bald MacLeish has rightly deplored as being boring, pompous, and clumsy. Yet, as he points out, it at least has the attributes of gentility and virtue, and, furthermore, is the only name which we have for this particular form of international activity. II The first Europeans to explore our pair of continents were, of course, adventurers whose ships sailed under Spanish flags in Anglo-American and Latin-American cultures have developed al- most entirely independently, built on different foundations and, beyond the ties of political and economic expediency, have had little contact with each other over the years. It is not surprising that we in the United States know very little about Latin America, its culture, its great cities, and its history, or that many of us chauvinistically exaggerate the im- portance of early English America, as contrasted with the colonies of Portugal, Spain, and France. We really do not even know the history of our own country: New Englanders will often point out Old North Church in Boston as the oldest church in America, in ignorance of the adobe mission churches of the Southwest, where European forms joined with Indian workmen and materials to create some of the most beautiful buildings in America. It is not surprising that Latin Americans should know so little of us, although I think we must admit that their knowledge of us exceeds our knowledge of them. This is partly due to our govern- ment's cultural relations programs, to which I shall refer later, and partly to the fact that their newspapers carry a great deal of news from the United States. Yet there is much room for greater knowledge and understanding. As we become increasingly inter- dependent with the years, we will need to develop our relation- ships and extend our cross-cultural contacts. In order to evolve a sound program, we should have a knowl- edge of what has gone on before between the Americas, under the name of "cultural relations"-a name, incidentally, which Archi- bald MacLeish has rightly deplored as being boring, pompous, and clumsy. Yet, as he points out, it at least has the attributes of gentility and virtue, and, furthermore, is the only name which we have for this particular form of international activity. II The first Europeans to explore our pair of continents were, of course, adventurers whose ships sailed under Spanish flags in  220 The Caribbean 220 The Caribbean 220 The Caribbean search of trade routes to the Indies. From the time of Columbus' landing in the Bahamas, through Ponce de Leon's explorations in Florida twenty years later, to Cortes' conquest of Mexico in 1521, the history of the Western Hemisphere focused on the Caribbean. The Spanish churchmen, who came to the colonies with the first settlers, brought a high degree of civilization and sophistica- tion to the New World. Great universities in Mexico and Peru were founded in the sixteenth century by King Charles V, "to serve God and the public good . . . and so that our servants, subjects, and natives in these lands should be instructed in all the sciences . . . and to drive away ignorance. . . ." and whose graduates were to "enjoy in the Indies, islands, and lands of the ocean, all the liberties and rights which are enjoyed in those lands by the graduates of the University of Salamanca." All of you know the names of the numerous institutions of higher education established in the Caribbean area during the colonial period. The only form of education supported by the royal treasury, the universities were designed to educate the aris- tocracy of the colonies, so that they might govern in the name of church and king. Public education on the elementary and secondary levels was provided by mission schools, which naturally stressed religious training, and in some cases preparation for the universities. Despite this lack of a broad public education system, the colonial administrators did pioneer work on the university level. It has been estimated that 150,000 students received de- grees from Spanish universities in Latin America during the colonial period. During the sixteenth century, the northern regions of the North American continent were being explored by Cartier and Cabot, while Spanish explorers went from Florida to California. Coro- nado and his soldiers sought the seven fabled cities of gold in the Southwest in 1540, and found only the terraced pueblo villages of the Zuni Indians. Missionaries followed Coronado and took an early foothold in what was to become, hundreds of years later, the states of New Mexico and Arizona. search of trade routes to the Indies. From the time of Columbus' landing in the Bahamas, through Ponce de Leon's explorations in Florida twenty years later, to Cortes' conquest of Mexico in 1521, the history of the Western Hemisphere focused on the Caribbean. The Spanish churchmen, who came to the colonies with the first settlers, brought a high degree of civilization and sophistica- tion to the New World. Great universities in Mexico and Peru were founded in the sixteenth century by King Charles V, "to serve God and the public good . . . and so that our servants, subjects, and natives in these lands should be instructed in all the sciences . . . and to drive away ignorance. . . ." and whose graduates were to "enjoy in the Indies, islands, and lands of the ocean, all the liberties and rights which are enjoyed in those lands by the graduates of the University of Salamanca." All of you know the names of the numerous institutions of higher education established in the Caribbean area during the colonial period. The only form of education supported by the royal treasury, the universities were designed to educate the aris- tocracy of the colonies, so that they might govern in the name of church and king. Public education on the elementary and secondary levels was provided by mission schools, which naturally stressed religious training, and in some cases preparation for the universities. Despite this lack of a broad public education system, the colonial administrators did pioneer work on the university level. It has been estimated that 150,000 students received de- grees from Spanish universities in Latin America during the colonial period. During the sixteenth century, the northern regions of the North American continent were being explored by Cartier and Cabot, while Spanish explorers went from Florida to California. Coro- nado and his soldiers sought the seven fabled cities of gold in the Southwest in 1540, and found only the terraced pueblo villages of the Zuni Indians. Missionaries followed Coronado and took an early foothold in what was to become, hundreds of years later, the states of New Mexico and Arizona. search of trade routes to the Indies. From the time of Columbus' landing in the Bahamas, through Ponce de Leon's explorations in Florida twenty years later, to Cortes' conquest of Mexico in 1521, the history of the Western Hemisphere focused on the Caribbean. The Spanish churchmen, who came to the colonies with the first settlers, brought a high degree of civilization and sophistica- tion to the New World. Great universities in Mexico and Peru were founded in the sixteenth century by King Charles V, "to serve God and the public good . . . and so that our servants, subjects, and natives in these lands should be instructed in all the sciences . . . and to drive away ignorance. . . ." and whose graduates were to "enjoy in the Indies, islands, and lands of the ocean, all the liberties and rights which are enjoyed in those lands by the graduates of the University of Salamanca." All of you know the names of the numerous institutions of higher education established in the Caribbean area during the colonial period. The only form of education supported by the royal treasury, the universities were designed to educate the aris- tocracy of the colonies, so that they might govern in the name of church and king. Public education on the elementary and secondary levels was provided by mission schools, which naturally stressed religious training, and in some cases preparation for the universities. Despite this lack of a broad public education system, the colonial administrators did pioneer work on the university level. It has been estimated that 150,000 students received de- grees from Spanish universities in Latin America during the colonial period. During the sixteenth century, the northern regions of the North American continent were being explored by Cartier and Cabot, while Spanish explorers went from Florida to California. Coro- nado and his soldiers sought the seven fabled cities of gold in the Southwest in 1540, and found only the terraced pueblo villages of the Zuni Indians. Missionaries followed Coronado and took an early foothold in what was to become, hundreds of years later, the states of New Mexico and Arizona.  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 221 In the United States, however, we tend to think of our history in terms of settlement and development of the Atlantic seaboard states. In the thirteen English colonies of America, education was also regarded of vital importance. Our universities, established during the colonial period-Harvard, William and Mary, Yale, Princeton, Washington and Lee, and so on-differed significantly from the Spanish colonial universities in that they all owed their origin to private initiative and were all privately controlled. The emphasis we place on the thirteen colonies is perhaps justi- fied, because their declaration of independence from European control had profound influence on our neighbors in the Western Hemisphere. The period from 1776 to 1826 really marks the American revolutionary period, during which not only George Washington, but also the patriot leaders of Latin America, over- threw their European rulers. III It was in the period following independence that the first real cultural relations between Anglo and Latin America were tenta- tively established. When President Monroe delivered his message to Congress in December, 1823, he related the two cultural spheres through a common desire for political independence, and this relationship has continued as a compelling bond between us for over a hundred years. In the first decades of the Latin republics, the new countries turned more to Europe than to the United States for guidance. French culture was particularly admired, 'and France was the country most emulated. Delegations of leaders in various fields were sent to France, French teachers were imported, and French was commonly taught as a second language. Impressed by Ger- many also, Latin Americans brought over German teachers who initiated scientific studies in Latin universities, and set up primary schools based on the German model. The opportunity to study in Europe continued to be highly valued, and wealthy university students continued to finish their education abroad. With most of CULTURAL CONCEPTS 221 In the United States, however, we tend to think of our history in terms of settlement and development of the Atlantic seaboard states. In the thirteen English colonies of America, education was also regarded of vital importance. Our universities, established during the colonial period-Harvard, William and Mary, Yale, Princeton, Washington and Lee, and so on-differed significantly from the Spanish colonial universities in that they all owed their origin to private initiative and were all privately controlled. The emphasis we place on the thirteen colonies is perhaps justi- fied, because their declaration of independence from European control had profound influence on our neighbors in the Western Hemisphere. The period from 1776 to 1826 really marks the American revolutionary period, during which not only George Washington, but also the patriot leaders of Latin America, over- threw their European rulers. III It was in the period following independence that the first real cultural relations between Anglo and Latin America were tenta- tively established. When President Monroe delivered his message to Congress in December, 1823, he related the two cultural spheres through a common desire for political independence, and this relationship has continued as a compelling bond between us for over a hundred years. In the first decades of the Latin republics, the new countries turned more to Europe than to the United States for guidance. French culture was particularly admired, and France was the country most emulated. Delegations of leaders in various fields were sent to France, French teachers were imported, and French was commonly taught as a second language. Impressed by Ger- many also, Latin Americans brought over German teachers who initiated scientific studies in Latin universities, and set up primary schools based on the German model. The opportunity to study in Europe continued to be highly valued, and wealthy university students continued to finish their education abroad. With most of CULTURAL CONCEPTS 221 In the United States, however, we tend to think of our history in terms of settlement and development of the Atlantic seaboard states. In the thirteen English colonies of America, education was also regarded of vital importance. Our universities, established during the colonial period-Harvard, William and Mary, Yale, Princeton, Washington and Lee, and so on-differed significantly from the Spanish colonial universities in that they all owed their origin to private initiative and were all privately controlled. The emphasis we place on the thirteen colonies is perhaps justi- fied, because their declaration of independence from European control had profound influence on our neighbors in the Western Hemisphere. The period from 1776 to 1826 really marks the American revolutionary period, during which not only George Washington, but also the patriot leaders of Latin America, over- threw their European rulers. III It was in the period following independence that the first real cultural relations between Anglo and Latin America were tenta- tively established. When President Monroe delivered his message to Congress in December, 1823, he related the two cultural spheres through a common desire for political independence, and this relationship has continued as a compelling bond between us for over a hundred years. In the first decades of the Latin republics, the new countries turned more to Europe than to the United States for guidance. French culture was particularly admired, and France was the country most emulated. Delegations of leaders in various fields were sent to France, French teachers were imported, and French was commonly taught as a second language. Impressed by Ger- many also, Latin Americans brought over German teachers who initiated scientific studies in Latin universities, and set up primary schools based on the German model. The opportunity to study in Europe continued to be highly valued, and wealthy university students continued to finish their education abroad. With most of  222 The Caribbean 222 The Caribbean 222 The Caribbean the population of Spanish and Italian extraction, cultural bonds with these countries of course remained strong, and the Catholic religion linked the Latin Americans with the Catholic countries of Europe. Although the United States did not have much cultural prestige among Latin Americans, our republic had some influence in the development of public education in Latin America, largely through the efforts of Domingo Sarmiento. Sarmiento's well-known visit to the United States in the 1840's, when he studied our schools and became a friend of Horace Mann, created in him a deep belief in democratic education. He voiced the same beliefs on this score, as had many of the earlier liberators, but he believed he had found the way to put these beliefs into action. As the "schoolmaster President" of Argentina, he founded a normal school with a New Englander as its first director, and in many ways he had considerable influence in educational thought throughout Latin America. We must recognize the cultural influences exerted by other nations on Latin America, especially in the colonial days and the period immediately after independence. Although the Monroe Doctrine has provided a certain basis for cooperation among Amer- ican countries for over a century, and although Pan Americanism has been a word in our vocabulary for some years now, it is a fact that extensive cultural relations between the United States and the Latin republics began as recently as twenty-five years ago with the inauguration of the "Good Neighbor Policy." It is true that private efforts anticipated the governmental Good Neighbor Policy on a small but effective scale. The Pan American Union, the earliest organization devoted to the mutual exchange of knowledge, was first established in 1890 as a commercial bureau, becoming increasingly concerned with education and Pan Ameri- canism in its broader sense after 1910. Certain colleges and uni- versities, such as Teachers College of Columbia, and organizations such as the Carnegie Endowment and the Guggenheim and the Rockefeller foundations, took an early interest in developing cul- the population of Spanish and Italian extraction, cultural bonds with these countries of course remained strong, and the Catholic religion linked the Latin Americans with the Catholic countries of Europe. Although the United States did not have much cultural prestige among Latin Americans, our republic had some influence in the development of public education in Latin America, largely through the efforts of Domingo Sarmiento. Sarmiento's well-known visit to the United States in the 1840's, when he studied our schools and became a friend of Horace Mann, created in him a deep belief in democratic education. He voiced the same beliefs on this score, as had many of the earlier liberators, but he believed he had found the way to put these beliefs into action. As the "schoolmaster President" of Argentina, he founded a normal school with a New Englander as its first director, and in many ways he had considerable influence in educational thought throughout Latin America. We must recognize the cultural influences exerted by other nations on Latin America, especially in the colonial days and the period immediately after independence. Although the Monroe Doctrine has provided a certain basis for cooperation among Amer- ican countries for over a century, and although Pan Americanism has been a word in our vocabulary for some years now, it is a fact that extensive cultural relations between the United States and the Latin republics began as recently as twenty-five years ago with the inauguration of the "Good Neighbor Policy." It is true that private efforts anticipated the governmental Good Neighbor Policy on a small but effective scale. The Pan American Union, the earliest organization devoted to the mutual exchange of knowledge, was first established in 1890 as a commercial bureau, becoming increasingly concerned with education and Pan Ameri- canism in its broader sense after 1910. Certain colleges and uni- versities, such as Teachers College of Columbia, and organizations such as the Carnegie Endowment and the Guggenheim and the Rockefeller foundations, took an early interest in developing cul- the population of Spanish and Italian extraction, cultural bonds with these countries of course remained strong, and the Catholic religion linked the Latin Americans with the Catholic countries of Europe. Although the United States did not have much cultural prestige among Latin Americans, our republic had some influence in the development of public education in Latin America, largely through the efforts of Domingo Sarmiento. Sarmiento's well-known visit to the United States in the 1840's, when he studied our schools and became a friend of Horace Mann, created in him a deep belief in democratic education. He voiced the same beliefs on this score, as had many of the earlier liberators, but he believed he had found the way to put these beliefs into action. As the "schoolmaster President" of Argentina, he founded a normal school with a New Englander as its first director, and in many ways he had considerable influence in educational thought throughout Latin America. We must recognize the cultural influences exerted by other nations on Latin America, especially in the colonial days and the period immediately after independence. Although the Monroe Doctrine has provided a certain basis for cooperation among Amer- ican countries for over a century, and although Pan Americanism has been a word in our vocabulary for some years now, it is a fact that extensive cultural relations between the United States and the Latin republics began as recently as twenty-five years ago with the inauguration of the "Good Neighbor Policy." It is true that private efforts anticipated the governmental Good Neighbor Policy on a small but effective scale. The Pan American Union, the earliest organization devoted to the mutual exchange of knowledge, was first established in 1890 as a commercial bureau, becoming increasingly concerned with education and Pan Ameri- canism in its broader sense after 1910. Certain colleges and uni- versities, such as Teachers College of Columbia, and organizations such as the Carnegie Endowment and the Guggenheim and the Rockefeller foundations, took an early interest in developing cul-  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 223 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 223 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 223 tural relations between the Americas. A limited number of stu- dents were exchanged for specialized study or to further mutual understanding. President-elect Hoover toured South America in 1928; a year later, the Council on Inter-American Relations, a group of American businessmen with commercial interest in Latin America, presented the Institute of International Education with a sizable sum of money to use in developing inter-American edu- cational exchanges. Stephen Duggan, director of the Institute, spent many months in 1931 visiting the countries of South Ameri- ca to establish working relations with educators there. In these earliest days of organized inter-American exchanges, certain patterns emerged. Latin American students, already ori- ented to European universities and European culture, admired the United States mainly for its accomplishments in science and industry. The Institute of International Education's early policy was to aid Latin American students in such fields as medicine, engineering, technical research, agriculture, journalism, educa- tion-the fields in which Latin Americans not only looked to the United States for advanced training, but fields which were felt to be of greatest need and value in aiding the development of the countries to the south of us. In 1930, there were approximately one thousand students from Caribbean countries in the United States colleges and universities. This movement began to grow in the thirties, with American uni- versities often providing scholarship and fellowship aid to Latin students. The number of United States students going south, how- ever, was much smaller, setting a pattern which unfortunately persists today. Latin American institutions are not so well known in the United States as are the European universities, and scholar- ship opportunities for United States students in Latin America were, and are, relatively rare. IV It was when the Nazi movement in Europe threatened to move into Latin America that the United States began to emphasize the tural relations between the Americas. A limited number of stu- dents were exchanged for specialized study or to further mutual understanding. President-elect Hoover toured South America in 1928; a year later, the Council on Inter-American Relations, a group of American businessmen with commercial interest in Latin America, presented the Institute of International Education with a sizable sum of money to use in developing inter-American edu- cational exchanges. Stephen Duggan, director of the Institute, spent many months in 1931 visiting the countries of South Ameri- ca to establish working relations with educators there. In these earliest days of organized inter-American exchanges, certain patterns emerged. Latin American students, already ori- ented to European universities and European culture, admired the United States mainly for its accomplishments in science and industry. The Institute of International Education's early policy was to aid Latin American students in such fields as medicine, engineering, technical research, agriculture, journalism, educa- tion-the fields in which Latin Americans not only looked to the United States for advanced training, but fields which were felt to be of greatest need and value in aiding the development of the countries to the south of us. In 1930, there were approximately one thousand students from Caribbean countries in the United States colleges and universities. This movement began to grow in the thirties, with American uni- versities often providing scholarship and fellowship aid to Latin students. The number of United States students going south, how- ever, was much smaller, setting a pattern which unfortunately persists today. Latin American institutions are not so well known in the United States as are the European universities, and scholar- ship opportunities for United States students in Latin America were, and are, relatively rare. IV It was when the Nazi movement in Europe threatened to move into Latin America that the United States began to emphasize the tural relations between the Americas. A limited number of stu- dents were exchanged for specialized study or to further mutual understanding. President-elect Hoover toured South America in 1928; a year later, the Council on Inter-American Relations, a group of American businessmen with commercial interest in Latin America, presented the Institute of International Education with a sizable sum of money to use in developing inter-American edu- cational exchanges. Stephen Duggan, director of the Institute, spent many months in 1931 visiting the countries of South Ameri- ca to establish working relations with educators there. In these earliest days of organized inter-American exchanges, certain patterns emerged. Latin American students, already ori- ented to European universities and European culture, admired the United States mainly for its accomplishments in science and industry. The Institute of International Education's early policy was to aid Latin American students in such fields as medicine, engineering, technical research, agriculture, journalism, educa- tion-the fields in which Latin Americans not only looked to the United States for advanced training, but fields which were felt to be of greatest need and value in aiding the development of the countries to the south of us. In 1930, there were approximately one thousand students from Caribbean countries in the United States colleges and universities. This movement began to grow in the thirties, with American uni- versities often providing scholarship and fellowship aid to Latin students. The number of United States students going south, how- ever, was much smaller, setting a pattern which unfortunately persists today. Latin American institutions are not so well known in the United States as are the European universities, and scholar- ship opportunities for United States students in Latin America were, and are, relatively rare. IV It was when the Nazi movement in Europe threatened to move into Latin America that the United States began to emphasize the  224 The Caribbean importance of relation between the United States and the republics south of the border. Germany had a Central Bureau for Organi- zation and Colonization, where men were specially trained for service in Latin America as diplomats or businessmen. A very efficient press service, directed at the middle class and adroitly colored against the Allies, was made available throughout Latin America at very low cost. There were 862 Axis-dominated schools in Latin America before the war, with over 100,000 students. Excellent radio programs, sent by short wave from Germany, skill- fully mixed propaganda with good music and other entertainment, often in flawless Spanish and Portuguese. The hope of the Germans, of course, was to turn at least some countries of Latin America into their active allies; failing that, they saw the possibility of stopping trade with the United States and her allies in vital war materials, or, at the very least, of promoting disunity among the American republics. Ironically, de- fense against totalitarianism was the impetus for the first large- scale cultural relations between the United States and the Latin nations. For it was at this point that Cordell Hull began to stress seri- ously the need for closer and better relations between the Ameri- cas. In developing the governmental Good Neighbor program designed to work toward this goal, Secretary Hull emphasized one particular point which is pertinent for us today: Those of us [he said] who have most to do with measures of government, are fully aware of the fact that governmental action can never rise higher than its source; and that the source is the moral and intellectual structure which lies behind and beneath the formal governmental action. Bad mechanical arrangements may be successful when there is common understanding, when men's minds march together, and when none of the parties are strangers to each other's ideas and ideals. On the other hand, the best technical arrangements in the world are futile, if there is not underlying them the foundation of that understanding. The United States government's first active participation in a 224 The Caribbean importance of relation between the United States and the republics south of the border. Germany had a Central Bureau for Organi- zation and Colonization, where men were specially trained for service in Latin America as diplomats or businessmen. A very efficient press service, directed at the middle class and adroitly colored against the Allies, was made available throughout Latin America at very low cost. There were 862 Axis-dominated schools in Latin America before the war, with over 100,000 students. Excellent radio programs, sent by short wave from Germany, skill- fully mixed propaganda with good music and other entertainment, often in flawless Spanish and Portuguese. The hope of the Germans, of course, was to turn at least some countries of Latin America into their active allies; failing that, they saw the possibility of stopping trade with the United States and her allies in vital war materials, or, at the very least, of promoting disunity among the American republics. Ironically, de- fense against totalitarianism was the impetus for the first large- scale cultural relations between the United States and the Latin nations. For it was at this point that Cordell Hull began to stress seri- ously the need for closer and better relations between the Ameri- cas. In developing the governmental Good Neighbor program designed to work toward this goal, Secretary Hull emphasized one particular point which is pertinent for us today: Those of us [he said] who have most to do with measures of government, are fully aware of the fact that governmental action can never rise higher than its source; and that the source is the moral and intellectual structure which lies behind and beneath the formal governmental action. Bad mechanical arrangements may be successful when there is common understanding, when men's minds march together, and when none of the parties are strangers to each other's ideas and ideals. On the other hand, the best technical arrangements in the world are futile, if there is not underlying them the foundation of that understanding. The United States government's first active participation in a 224 The Caribbean importance of relation between the United States and the republics south of the border. Germany had a Central Bureau for Organi- zation and Colonization, where men weere specially trained for service in Latin America as diplomats or businessmen. A very efficient press service, directed at the middle class and adroitly colored against the Allies, was made available throughout Latin America at very low cost. There were 862 Axis-dominated schools in Latin America before the war, with over 100,000 students. Excellent radio programs, sent by short wave from Germany, skill- fully mixed propaganda with good music and other entertainment, often in flawless Spanish and Portuguese. The hope of the Germans, of course, was to turn at least some countries of Latin America into their active allies; failing that, they saw the possibility of stopping trade with the United States and her allies in vital war materials, or, at the very least, of promoting disunity among the American republics. Ironically, de- fense against totalitarianism was the impetus for the first large- scale cultural relations between the United States and the Latin nations. For it was at this point that Cordell Hull began to stress seri- ously the need for closer and better relations between the Ameri- cas. In developing the governmental Good Neighbor program designed to work toward this goal, Secretary Hull emphasized one particular point which is pertinent for us today: Those of us [he said] who have most to do with measures of government, are fully aware of the fact that governmental action can never rise higher than its source; and that the source is the moral and intellectual structure which lies behind and beneath the formal governmental action. Bad mechanical arrangements may be successful when there is common understanding, when men's minds march together, and when none of the parties are strangers to each other's ideas and ideals. On the other hand, the best technical arrangements in the world are futile, if there is not underlying them the foundation of that understanding. The United States government's first active participation in a  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 225 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 225 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 225 cultural exchange program came as a result of the Conference for the Maintenance of Peace, held in Buenos Aires in 1936. The Buenos Aires agreement, signed by the United States and the other American republics (including the Caribbean countries of Colom- bia, Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Guatemala, Haiti, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, and Venezuela) provided for the annual exchange of one professor and two teachers, or two gradu- ate students, among the signatory nations. The stated purpose was to advance "mutual knowledge and understanding of the people and institutions represented," and to promote "a more consistent educational solidarity on the American continents." In 1938 the Department of State established a Division of Cul- tural Relations, which Sumner Welles characterized as a "depart- ure from the traditional practice of our Federal Government," and yet one which in no way implied our acceptance of the alien con- cept of an "official culture." Founded on principles of reciprocity and participation of the general public and private groups, the division in its first few years of existence focused only on the Hemisphere. Its activities included travel and study grants, the exchange of professors, assistance to cultural centers such as li- braries and schools, and the distribution of informational motion pictures and other materials. Prior to World War II, societies to promote better relations with the United States had been organized in a few Latin American cities. These societies were founded by nationals of the countries concerned, often assisted by resident United States citizens, and many persons active in their programs had studied in the United States or had other ties of interest and sentiment with North America. By the close of 1940 there were seven such cultural institutes. In 1941 the United States Government, through the Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs, began to make grants to some cultural institutes for specific equipment and activities, par- ticularly for English classes open to the public, libraries, recorded music, lectures, and filrs. The number of such institutes in- creased rapidly, and today there are thirty-one in Latin America. cultural exchange program came as a result of the Conference for the Maintenance of Peace, held in Buenos Aires in 1936. The Buenos Aires agreement, signed by the United States and the other American republics (including the Caribbean countries of Colom- bia, Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Guatemala, Haiti, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, and Venezuela) provided for the annual exchange of one professor and two teachers, or two gradu- ate students, among the signatory nations. The stated purpose was to advance "mutual knowledge and understanding of the people and institutions represented," and to promote "a more consistent educational solidarity on the American continents." In 1938 the Department of State established a Division of Cul- tural Relations, which Sumner Welles characterized as a "depart- ure from the traditional practice of our Federal Government," and yet one which in no way implied our acceptance of the alien con- cept of an "official culture." Founded on principles of reciprocity and participation of the general public and private groups, the division in its first few years of existence focused only on the Hemisphere. Its activities included travel and study grants, the exchange of professors, assistance to cultural centers such as li- braries and schools, and the distribution of informational motion pictures and other materials. Prior to World War II, societies to promote better relations with the United States had been organized in a few Latin American cities. These societies were founded by nationals of the countries concerned, often assisted by resident United States citizens, and many persons active in their programs had studied in the United States or had other ties of interest and sentiment with North America. By the close of 1940 there were seven such cultural institutes. In 1941 the United States Government, through the Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs, began to make grants to some cultural institutes for specific equipment and activities, par- ticularly for English classes open to the public, libraries, recorded music, lectures, and films. The number of such institutes in- creased rapidly, and today there are thirty-one in Latin America. cultural exchange program came as a result of the Conference for the Maintenance of Peace, held in Buenos Aires in 1936. The Buenos Aires agreement, signed by the United States and the other American republics (including the Caribbean countries of Colom- bia, Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Guatemala, Haiti, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, and Venezuela) provided for the annual exchange of one professor and two teachers, or two gradu- ate students, among the signatory nations. The stated purpose was to advance "mutual knowledge and understanding of the people and institutions represented," and to promote "a more consistent educational solidarity on the American continents." In 1938 the Department of State established a Division of Cul- tural Relations, which Sumner Welles characterized as a "depart- ure from the traditional practice of our Federal Government," and yet one which in no way implied our acceptance of the alien con- cept of an "official culture." Founded on principles of reciprocity and participation of the general public and private groups, the division in its first few years of existence focused only on the Hemisphere. Its activities included travel and study grants, the exchange of professors, assistance to cultural centers such as li- braries and schools, and the distribution of informational motion pictures and other materials. Prior to World War II, societies to promote better relations with the United States had been organized in a few Latin American cities. These societies were founded by nationals of the countries concerned, often assisted by resident United States citizens, and many persons active in their programs had studied in the United States or had other ties of interest and sentiment with North America. By the close of 1940 there were seven such cultural institutes. In 1941 the United States Government, through the Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs, began to make grants to some cultural institutes for specific equipment and activities, par- ticularly for English classes open to the public, libraries, recorded music, lectures, and films. The number of such institutes in- creased rapidly, and today there are thirty-one in Latin America.  226 The Caribbean 226 The Caribbean 226 The Caribbean The United States Government also gave aid to libraries of United States books (beginning with the establishment of the Benjamin Franklin Library in Mexico City) and stimulated trans- lation of United States books into Spanish, and Portuguese books into English. In October, 1939, the Department of State called a Conference on Inter-American Relations in the Field of Art, which revealed an extraordinary degree of interest in the development of broader and more active artistic exchanges between the Americas. At- tended by some 125 representative leaders from all fields of art in the United States, the conference surveyed the panorama of artistic interchange between the Americas and the possibilities for future cooperative endeavors. It was repeatedly emphasized that selection of material to go to Latin America should be made on the basis of what the Latin Americans themselves desire. The essential reciprocity of artistic interchange was stressed, as was the service aspect of governmental activity in this field, by which the Department of State cooperated with private organizations rather than carry out its own projects. A similar conference in the field of music was held at the same time to discuss proposals for musical exchanges between the United States and the other republics. At these conferences the groundwork was laid for the extension of exchanges in art and music, which might help bring about closer cultural relations and greater mutual understanding in the Americas. Our government subsequently undertook to send certain ex- hibitions of United States art to Latin America, and to aid Latin American art exhibits in the United States. Three exhibitions of contemporary "American" paintings and water colors, lent by four New York museums, traveled 50,000 miles in Central and South America in 1942, and were seen by an estimated 218,000 per- sons. In Nicaragua, in 1943, an exhibit was held of reproductions of paintings by Winslow Homer, Thomas Benton, Grant Wood, John Steuart Curry, and other outstanding artists. Other exhibits ranging from fine bookmaking to children's art toured Latin The United States Government also gave aid to libraries of United States books (beginning with the establishment of the Benjamin Franklin Library in Mexico City) and stimulated trans- lation of United States books into Spanish, and Portuguese books into English. In October, 1939, the Department of State called a Conference on Inter-American Relations in the Field of Art, which revealed an extraordinary degree of interest in the development of broader and more active artistic exchanges between the Americas. At- tended by some 125 representative leaders from all fields of art in the United States, the conference surveyed the panorama of artistic interchange between the Americas and the possibilities for future cooperative endeavors. It was repeatedly emphasized that selection of material to go to Latin America should be made on the basis of what the Latin Americans themselves desire. The essential reciprocity of artistic interchange was stressed, as was the service aspect of governmental activity in this field, by which the Department of State cooperated with private organizations rather than carry out its own projects. A similar conference in the field of music was held at the same time to discuss proposals for musical exchanges between the United States and the other republics. At these conferences the groundwork was laid for the extension of exchanges in art and music, which might help bring about closer cultural relations and greater mutual understanding in the Americas. Our government subsequently undertook to send certain ex- hibitions of United States art to Latin America, and to aid Latin American art exhibits in the United States. Three exhibitions of contemporary "American" paintings and water colors, lent by four New York museums, traveled 50,000 miles in Central and South America in 1942, and were seen by an estimated 218,000 per- sons. In Nicaragua, in 1943, an exhibit was held of reproductions of paintings by Winslow Homer, Thomas Benton, Grant Wood, John Steuart Curry, and other outstanding artists. Other exhibits ranging from fine bookmaking to children's art toured Latin The United States Government also gave aid to libraries of United States books (beginning with the establishment of the Benjamin Franklin Library in Mexico City) and stimulated trans- lation of United States books into Spanish, and Portuguese books into English. In October, 1939, the Department of State called a Conference on Inter-American Relations in the Field of Art, which revealed an extraordinary degree of interest in the development of broader and more active artistic exchanges between the Americas. At- tended by some 125 representative leaders from all fields of art in the United States, the conference surveyed the panorama of artistic interchange between the Americas and the possibilities for future cooperative endeavors. It was repeatedly emphasized that selection of material to go to Latin America should be made on the basis of what the Latin Americans themselves desire. The essential reciprocity of artistic interchange was stressed, as was the service aspect of governmental activity in this field, by which the Department of State cooperated with private organizations rather than carry out its own projects. A similar conference in the field of music was held at the same time to discuss proposals for musical exchanges between the United States and the other republics. At these conferences the groundwork was laid for the extension of exchanges in art and music, which might help bring about closer cultural relations and greater mutual understanding in the Americas. Our government subsequently undertook to send certain ex- hibitions of United States art to Latin America, and to aid Latin American art exhibits in the United States. Three exhibitions of contemporary "American" paintings and water colors, lent by four New York museums, traveled 50,000 miles in Central and South America in 1942, and were seen by an estimated 218,000 per- sons. In Nicaragua, in 1943, an exhibit was held of reproductions of paintings by Winslow Homer, Thomas Benton, Grant Wood, John Steuart Curry, and other outstanding artists. Other exhibits ranging from fine bookmaking to children's art toured Latin  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 227 America. Perhaps best liked by the few Latin Americans who saw it was a collection of modern art-called "Advancing Ameri- can Art"-including work by Kuniyoshi, Ben Shahn, and other modern American painters. Several exhibitions of Latin American art were brought up- or were assembled from collections in the United States-and shown in American cities. A score of artists were given grants to enable them to travel between the Americas, and a limited number of scholarships were given to Latin American art students for study in the United States. Out of the music conference grew new programs for musical exchange sponsored by the Library of Congress, the Pan American Union, the Office of the Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs, and the Department of State. Folk music of the United States, recorded by the Library of Congress, was distributed widely in Latin America. An Inter-American Music Center within the Pan American Union concentrated on making Latin American music available to school orchestras, bands, and choral groups heere in the United States. Music loan libraries were created in twenty Latin American capitals, supplying United States music to Latin American radio stations, military bands, symphony orchestras, and schools. A series of over fifty half-hour recordings titled "Music in American Life" was compiled and distributed to Latin American radio stations. Also created at this time was the post of cultural relations offi- cer in United States embassies and legations in the Western Hemi- sphere. These officers, as you know, have the responsibility of developing and maintaining "friendly relations with cultural lead- ers in the countries in which they are stationed." The practically overnight extension of our cultural relations is reflected in the fact that well over 11,000 Latin Americans studied in the United States during the five-year period from 1940 to 1945. These were the peak years for financed inter- American exchanges-both from public and private funds-and they marked the beginning of the first real inter-American rela- CULTURAL CONCEPTS 227 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 227 America. Perhaps best liked by the few Latin Americans who saw it was a collection of modern art-called "Advancing Ameri- can Art"-including work by Kuniyoshi, Ben Shahn, and other modern American painters. Several exhibitions of Latin American art were brought up- or were assembled from collections in the United States-and shown in American cities. A score of artists were given grants to enable them to travel between the Americas, and a limited number of scholarships were given to Latin American art students for study in the United States. Out of the music conference grew new programs for musical exchange sponsored by the Library of Congress, the Pan American Union, the Office of the Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs, and the Department of State. Folk music of the United States, recorded by the Library of Congress, was distributed widely in Latin America. An Inter-American Music Center within the Pan American Union concentrated on making Latin American music available to school orchestras, bands, and choral groups here in the United States. Music loan libraries were created in twenty Latin American capitals, supplying United States music to Latin American radio stations, military bands, symphony orchestras, and schools. A series of over fifty half-hour recordings titled "Music in American Life" was compiled and distributed to Latin American radio stations. Also created at this time was the post of cultural relations offi- cer in United States embassies and legations in the Western Hemi- sphere. These officers, as you know, have the responsibility of developing and maintaining "friendly relations with cultural lead- ers in the countries in which they are stationed." The practically overnight extension of our cultural relations is reflected in the fact that well over 11,000 Latin Americans studied in the United States during the five-year period from 1940 to 1945. These were the peak years for financed inter- American exchanges-both from public and private funds-and they marked the beginning of the first real inter-American rela- America. Perhaps best liked by the few Latin Americans who saw it was a collection of modern art-called "Advancing Ameri- can Art"-including work by Kuniyoshi, Ben Shahn, and other modern American painters. Several exhibitions of Latin American art were brought up- or were assembled from collections in the United States-and shown in American cities. A score of artists were given grants to enable them to travel between the Americas, and a limited number of scholarships were given to Latin American art students for study in the United States. Out of the music conference grew new programs for musical exchange sponsored by the Library of Congress, the Pan American Union, the Office of the Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs, and the Department of State. Folk music of the United States, recorded by the Library of Congress, was distributed widely in Latin America. An Inter-American Music Center within the Pan American Union concentrated on making Latin American music available to school orchestras, bands, and choral groups here in the United States. Music loan libraries were created in twenty Latin American capitals, supplying United States music to Latin American radio stations, military bands, symphony orchestras, and schools. A series of over fifty half-hour recordings titled "Music in American Life" was compiled and distributed to Latin American radio stations. Also created at this time was the post of cultural relations offi- cer in United States embassies and legations in the Western Hemi- sphere. These officers, as you know, have the responsibility of developing and maintaining "friendly relations with cultural lead- ers in the countries in which they are stationed." The practically overnight extension of our cultural relations is reflected in the fact that well over 11,000 Latin Americans studied in the United States during the five-year period from 1940 to 1945. These were the peak years for financed inter- American exchanges-both from public and private funds-and they marked the beginning of the first real inter-American rela-  228 The Caribbean 228 The Caribbean 228 The Caribbean tions in many cultural fields. Yet a great deal of money was required to support and continue these new activities, and the American Congress has traditionally not been totally convinced of the value of art and music exchanges, or indeed of many aspects of a cultural relations program. Paradoxically, the art exhibit most appreciated by many Latin Americans, "Advancing American Art," was least appreciated by certain Congressional leaders who governed the appropriations. Congress leaned to retrospective exhibits, rather than to modern art; for a time, these exhibits were sent; subsequently, all government support was withdrawn from the programs of art and music exchanges. V In the postwar years, attention has been concentrated on our cultural relations with more immediately critical areas, particularly Asia and the occupied countries. United States Government funds earmarked for educational exchanges have been largely designated for use in programs wihthese areas. The burden of financial support for inter-American exchanges has fallen on the colleges and universities, with their limited resources. These institutions, while retaining their interest in Latin America, endeavor to have wide geographical representation among the foreign students on their campuses, and they, too, designate many awards for Asian, African, and European students. Private agencies and Latin American governments have continued to support exchanges, yet sponsored exchange programs between the Americas have general- ly suffered a decline. The number of Latin American university students coming to the United States on their own funds, how- ever, has increased. Since the war, a total of 35,000 students from the Caribbean area have studied in our institutions, with largest contingents coming from Mexico, Colombia, Cuba, British West Indies, Panama, and Venezuela. This past year alone nearly 7,000 students from the Caribbean were in the United States. Since our universities have been attracting record numbers of students from all parts of the world, the increase in the numbers lions in many cultural fields. Yet a great deal of money was required to support and continue these new activities, and the American Congress has traditionally not been totally convinced of the value of art and music exchanges, or indeed of many aspects of a cultural relations program. Paradoxically, the art exhibit most appreciated by many Latin Americans, "Advancing American Art," was least appreciated by certain Congressional leaders who governed the appropriations. Congress leaned to retrospective exhibits, rather than to modern art; for a time, these exhibits were sent; subsequently, all government support was withdrawn from the programs of art and music exchanges. V In the postwar years, attention has been concentrated on our cultural relations with more immediately critical areas, particularly Asia and the occupied countries. United States Government funds earmarked for educational exchanges have been largely designated for use in programs with these areas. The burden of financial support for inter-American exchanges has fallen on the colleges and universities, with their limited resources. These institutions, while retaining their interest in Latin America, endeavor to have wide geographical representation among the foreign students on their campuses, and they, too, designate many awards for Asian, African, and European students. Private agencies and Latin American governments have continued to support exchanges, yet sponsored exchange programs between the Americas have general- ly suffered a decline. The number of Latin American university students coming to the United States on their own funds, how- ever, has increased. Since the war, a total of 35,000 students from the Caribbean area have studied in our institutions, with largest contingents coming from Mexico, Colombia, Cuba, British West Indies, Panama, and Venezuela. This past year alone nearly 7,000 students from the Caribbean were in the United States. Since our universities have been attracting record numbers of students from all parts of the world, the increase in the numbers tions in many cultural fields. Yet a great deal of money was required to support and continue these new activities, and the American Congress has traditionally not been totally convinced of the value of art and music exchanges, or indeed of many aspects of a cultural relations program. Paradoxically, the art exhibit most appreciated by many Latin Americans, "Advancing American Art," was least appreciated by certain Congressional leaders who governed the appropriations. Congress leaned to retrospective exhibits, rather than to modern art; for a time, these exhibits were sent; subsequently, all government support was withdrawn from the programs of art and music exchanges. V In the postwar years, attention has been concentrated on our cultural relations with more immediately critical areas, particularly Asia and the occupied countries. United States Government funds earmarked for educational exchanges have been largely designated for use in programs with these areas. The burden of financial support for inter-American exchanges has fallen on the colleges and universities, with their limited resources. These institutions, while retaining their interest in Latin America, endeavor to have wide geographical representation among the foreign students on their campuses, and they, too, designate many awards for Asian, African, and European students. Private agencies and Latin American governments have continued to support exchanges, yet sponsored exchange programs between the Americas have general- ly suffered a decline. The number of Latin American university students coming to the United States on their own funds, how- ever, has increased. Since the war, a total of 35,000 students from the Caribbean area have studied in our institutions, with largest contingents coming from Mexico, Colombia, Cuba, British West Indies, Panama, and Venezuela. This past year alone nearly 7,000 students from the Caribbean were in the United States. Since our universities have been attracting record numbers of students from all parts of the world, the increase in the numbers  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 229 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 229 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 229 of Latin Americans here can be regarded as part of this larger pattern-with one vital difference, namely, that an exceptionally high percentage support their studies by their own means. Over 50 per cent of the Latin American students tallied in the most recent foreign student census (1953-1954) are self-supporting, compared with 25 per cent of the European students, and 37 per cent of the Asian students. While we in the exchange-of-persons field are apt, optimistically, to believe that any international move- ment of students will have more good results than bad in the long run, it is a matter of concern to us that many worthy students are unable to come due to the lack of financial assistance available. At the Institute we know from sad experience that of the many excellent Latin American students who have applied for scholar- ships in the United States since the war, only a few have been awarded grants. Of the apparent improvement in these circum- stances, I shall speak in a moment. On the other side of the picture-Americans going to Latin American universities-the number is increasing, although it is still not large. The Veterans' Administration reports that approxi- mately 5,000 United States veterans have studied in Latin Ameri- can countries under the two G.I. Bills, nearly all in Mexico. A first and incomplete census of American students abroad, under- taken by the Institute, shows at least 600 Americans enrolled last year in Caribbean universities. Of these, more than 90 per cent were in Mexico. Accessibility is obviously a major factor. It is interesting to note that the most popular fields of study reported in this census were the humanities, signifying our grow- ing recognition of the cultural centers of Latin America. Mexico itself plays a large role in educational exchange today, of course. Unesco's Study Abroad indicates that Mexico is the largest "re- ceiver of foreign students" in Latin America, and that Mexico sends a larger number of its own students abroad than does any other Latin country. The most hopeful development today has been the apparent return in interest to Latin America, and what seems to be a realiza- of Latin Americans here can be regarded as part of this larger pattern-with one vital difference, namely, that an exceptionally high percentage support their studies by their own means. Over 50 per cent of the Latin American students tallied in the most recent foreign student census (1953-1954) are self-supporting, compared with 25 per cent of the European students, and 37 per cent of the Asian students. While we in the exchange-of-persons field are apt, optimistically, to believe that any international move- ment of students will have more good results than bad in the long run, it is a matter of concern to us that many worthy students are unable to come due to the lack of financial assistance available. At the Institute we know from sad experience that of the many excellent Latin American students who have applied for scholar- ships in the United States since the war, only a few have been awarded grants. Of the apparent improvement in these circum- stances, I shall speak in a moment. On the other side of the picture-Americans going to Latin American universities-the number is increasing, although it is still not large. The Veterans' Administration reports that approxi- mately 5,000 United States veterans have studied in Latin Ameri- can countries under the two G.L Bills, nearly all in Mexico. A first and incomplete census of American students abroad, under- taken by the Institute, shows at least 600 Americans enrolled last year in Caribbean universities. Of these, more than 90 per cent were in Mexico. Accessibility is obviously a major factor. It is interesting to note that the most popular fields of study reported in this census were the humanities, signifying our grow- ing recognition of the cultural centers of Latin America. Mexico itself plays a large role in educational exchange today, of course. Unesco's Study Abroad indicates that Mexico is the largest "re- ceiver of foreign students" in Latin America, and that Mexico sends a larger number of its own students abroad than does any other Latin country. The most hopeful development today has been the apparent return in interest to Latin America, and what seems to be a realiza- of Latin Americans here can be regarded as part of this larger pattern-with one vital difference, namely, that an exceptionally high percentage support their studies by their own means. Over 50 per cent of the Latin American students tallied in the most recent foreign student census (1953-1954) are self-supporting, compared with 25 per cent of the European students, and 37 per cent of the Asian students. While we in the exchange-of-persons field are apt, optimistically, to believe that any international move- ment of students will have more good results than bad in the long run, it is a matter of concern to us that many worthy students are unable to come due to the lack of financial assistance available. At the Institute we know from sad experience that of the many excellent Latin American students who have applied for scholar- ships in the United States since the war, only a few have been awarded grants. Of the apparent improvement in these circum- stances, I shall speak in a moment. On the other side of the picture-Americans going to Latin American universities-the number is increasing, although it is still not large. The Veterans' Administration reports that approxi- mately 5,000 United States veterans have studied in Latin Ameri- can countries under the two G.I. Bills, nearly all in Mexico. A first and incomplete census of American students abroad, under- taken by the Institute, shows at least 600 Americans enrolled last year in Caribbean universities. Of these, more than 90 per cent were in Mexico. Accessibility is obviously a major factor. It is interesting to note that the most popular fields of study reported in this census were the humanities, signifying our grow- ing recognition of the cultural centers of Latin America. Mexico itself plays a large role in educational exchange today, of course. Unesco's Study Abroad indicates that Mexico is the largest "re- ceiver of foreign students" in Latin America, and that Mexico sends a larger number of its own students abroad than does any other Latin country. The most hopeful development today has been the apparent return in interest to Latin America, and what seems to be a realiza-  230 The Caribbean tion on the part of many Americans, both North and South, that good relations between us are vital, and not something that can be stimulated in time of emergency and be allowed to lapse in time of peace. Congress has very recently approved an appropria- tion of $900,000 for use by the Department of State in exchanges with Latin America, on the basis of Milton Eisenhower's urgings to increase our inter-American cultural relations program. Another very significant development was announced in Sep- tember, 1954, by the Department of State. Following a Congres- sional appropriation of $5,000,000 for the enlargement of cul- tural programs and related activities, the Department of State has engaged the American National Theatre and Academy to encour- age and facilitate foreign tours by American "performing artists." This does not mean that the government will pay the bill for such tours; it means that financial assistance will be given to artists and groups which can, in large measure, support themselves, and which yet need help because of the high cost of travel expenses and other unusual costs involved in touring in other countries. ANTA has quickly accepted the government's bid to facilitate these foreign tours-they have set up a small advisory panel of experts in drama, music, and dance to make plans. Interestingly enough, the first artist to receive this Department of State support will be Jose Limon, who will take his company to South America for a month during this winter (1954-1955). Mr. Limon will play approximately a week in each of four cities-Rio de Janeiro, Sao Paulo, Montevideo, and Buenos Aires. According to The New York Times, this is the first major dance mission under govern- ment sponsorship since 1941, when the American Ballet Caravan made an extended South American good-will tour. The genuine interest in inter-American relations is reflected in the current conferences in this field. In November, 1954, I had the privilege of participating in a series of stimulating meetings on "Responsible Freedom in the Americas," held by Columbia University in connection with their bicentennial celebration. This Conference on the Caribbean at the University of Florida has been 230 The Caribbean 230 The Caribbean tion on the part of many Americans, both North and South, that good relations between us are vital, and not something that can be stimulated in time of emergency and be allowed to lapse in time of peace. Congress has very recently approved an appropria- tion of $900,000 for use by the Department of State in exchanges with Latin America, on the basis of Milton Eisenhower's urgings to increase our inter-American cultural relations program. Another very significant development was announced in Sep- tember, 1954, by the Department of State. Following a Congres- sional appropriation of $5,000,000 for the enlargement of cul- tural programs and related activities, the Department of State has engaged the American National Theatre and Academy to encour- age and facilitate foreign tours by American "performing artists." This does not mean that the government will pay the bill for such tours; it means that financial assistance will be given to artists and groups which can, in large measure, support themselves, and which yet need help because of the high cost of travel expenses and other unusual costs involved in touring in other countries. ANTA has quickly accepted the government's bid to facilitate these foreign tours-they have set up a small advisory panel of experts in drama, music, and dance to make plans. Interestingly enough, the first artist to receive this Department of State support will be Jose Lim6n, who will take his company to South America for a month during this winter (1954-1955). Mr. Limon will play approximately a week in each of four cities-Rio de Janeiro, Sao Paulo, Montevideo, and Buenos Aires. According to The New York Times, this is the first major dance mission under govern- ment sponsorship since 1941, when the American Ballet Caravan made an extended South American good-will tour. The genuine interest in inter-American relations is reflected in the current conferences in this field. In November, 1954, I had the privilege of participating in a series of stimulating meetings on "Responsible Freedom in the Americas," held by Columbia University in connection with their bicentennial celebration. This Conference on the Caribbean at the University of Florida has been tion on the part of many Americans, both North and South, that good relations between us are vital, and not something that can be stimulated in time of emergency and be allowed to lapse in time of peace. Congress has very recently approved an appropria- tion of $900,000 for use by the Department of State in exchanges with Latin America, on the basis of Milton Eisenhower's urgings to increase our inter-American cultural relations program. Another very significant development was announced in Sep- tember, 1954, by the Department of State. Following a Congres- sional appropriation of $5,000,000 for the enlargement of cul- tural programs and related activities, the Department of State has engaged the American National Theatre and Academy to encour- age and facilitate foreign tours by American "performing artists." This does not mean that the government will pay the bill for such tours; it means that financial assistance will be given to artists and groups which can, in large measure, support themselves, and which yet need help because of the high cost of travel expenses and other unusual costs involved in touring in other countries. ANTA has quickly accepted the government's bid to facilitate these foreign tours-they have set up a small advisory panel of experts in drama, music, and dance to make plans. Interestingly enough, the first artist to receive this Department of State support will be Jos6 Limn, who will take his company to South America for a month during this winter (1954-1955). Mr. Lim6n will play approximately a week in each of four cities--Rio de Janeiro, Sao Paulo, Montevideo, and Buenos Aires. According to The New York Times, this is the first major dance mission under govern- ment sponsorship since 1941, when the American Ballet Caravan made an extended South American good-will tour. The genuine interest in inter-American relations is reflected in the current conferences in this field. In November, 1954, I had the privilege of participating in a series of stimulating meetings on "Responsible Freedom in the Americas," held by Columbia University in connection with their bicentennial celebration. This Conference on the Caribbean at the University of Florida has been  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 231 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 231 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 231 going strong for five years. On the governmental level, of course, we have had the Caracas Conference, and currently, in Rio de Janeiro, the first inter-American meeting devoted entirely to economic and financial matters. A word should be said about the Caracas Conference, which made several important decisions affecting cultural exchange pro- grams. In the first place, it is now possible for countries partici- pating in the Buenos Aires Convention program to exchange more than two students annually (formerly the program provided for only two exchangers from each country; now the wording is "one or more," the purpose being to enable countries to increase the grants if they so desire). The modification of the Buenos Aires Convention also stimulates the exchange of professors by making it possible for the country sending the professor to provide a main- tenance grant for him. Previously, the funds available to the exchange professor were too small for him to live on; as a result, only eight professors have been exchanged under the Buenos Aires Convention during the period from 1936 to 1954. The Pan American Union is now to act as a clearinghouse of information on the professor exchanges, to stimulate and facilitate them. Another encouraging factor is the growth in the number of area study centers on Latin America. A relatively new phenomenon on American campuses, today there are over thirty centers devoted to the study of Latin America at colleges and universities in the United States. Certainly we have a long way to go in developing friendly, knowledgeable, mutually enriching relations between the United States and the Latin republics of the Hemisphere. The exchange of persons, of paintings, books, records, and films is just one means to this end, and it is difficult to counterbalance all the other factors that influence our relations. Perhaps economic issues are, realistically speaking, of paramount importance, and very little real progress can be made toward mutual understanding until mutually favorable economic relations are worked out. We should also realize that cultural relations programs cost money, and going strong for five years. On the governmental level, of course, we have had the Caracas Conference, and currently, in Rio de Janeiro, the first inter-American meeting devoted entirely to economic and financial matters. A word should be said about the Caracas Conference, which made several important decisions affecting cultural exchange pro- grams. In the first place, it is now possible for countries partici- pating in the Buenos Aires Convention program to exchange more than two students annually (formerly the program provided for only two exchangees from each country; now the wording is "one or more," the purpose being to enable countries to increase the grants if they so desire). The modification of the Buenos Aires Convention also stimulates the exchange of professors by making it possible for the country sending the professor to provide a main- tenance grant for him. Previously, the funds available to the exchange professor were too small for him to live on; as a result, only eight professors have been exchanged under the Buenos Aires Convention during the period from 1936 to 1954. The Pan American Union is now to act as a clearinghouse of information on the professor exchanges, to stimulate and facilitate them. Another encouraging factor is the growth in the number of area study centers on Latin America. A relatively new phenomenon on American campuses, today there are over thirty centers devoted to the study of Latin America at colleges and universities in the United States. Certainly we have a long way to go in developing friendly, knowledgeable, mutually enriching relations between the United States and the Latin republics of the Hemisphere. The exchange of persons, of paintings, books, records, and films is just one means to this end, and it is difficult to counterbalance all the other factors that influence our relations. Perhaps economic issues are, realistically speaking, of paramount importance, and very little real progress can be made toward mutual understanding until mutually favorable economic relations are worked out. We should also realize that cultural relations programs cost money, and going strong for five years. On the governmental level, of course, we have had the Caracas Conference, and currently, in Rio de Janeiro, the first inter-American meeting devoted entirely to economic and financial matters. A word should be said about the Caracas Conference, which made several important decisions affecting cultural exchange pro- grams. In the first place, it is now possible for countries partici- pating in the Buenos Aires Convention program to exchange more than two students annually (formerly the program provided for only two exchangers from each country; now the wording is "one or more," the purpose being to enable countries to increase the grants if they so desire). The modification of the Buenos Aires Convention also stimulates the exchange of professors by making it possible for the country sending the professor to provide a main- tenance grant for him. Previously, the funds available to the exchange professor were too small for him to live on; as a result, only eight professors have been exchanged under the Buenos Aires Convention during the period from 1936 to 1954. The Pan American Union is now to act as a clearinghouse of information on the professor exchanges, to stimulate and facilitate them. Another encouraging factor is the growth in the number of area study centers on Latin America. A relatively new phenomenon on American campuses, today there are over thirty centers devoted to the study of Latin America at colleges and universities in the United States. Certainly we have a long way to go in developing friendly, knowledgeable, mutually enriching relations between the United States and the Latin republics of the Hemisphere. The exchange of persons, of paintings, books, records, and films is just one means to this end, and it is difficult to counterbalance all the other factors that influence our relations. Perhaps economic issues are, realistically speaking, of paramount importance, and very little real progress can be made toward mutual understanding until mutually favorable economic relations are worked out. We should also realize that cultural relations programs cost money, and  232 The Caribbean 232 The Caribbean 232 The Caribbean sources of support must be found if these programs are to grow and improve, and not wither and die. One way to lessen the value of these programs, and in fact to endanger them, is to set unrealistic goals for them. We have all seen newspaper articles which cite cultural exchange as a sure-fire "weapon for peace" in a nice contradiction of terms. Many programs have the stated goal of promoting international under- standing and good will. They have been endorsed as a means to guarantee support abroad for United States foreign policy. Although well-planned and well-operated exchange programs may contribute to achieving these important objectives, they cannot and should not be justified primarily on this basis. In the complex web of interhemisphere relations, the thousands of persons who have traveled between the Americas, of course, are a thin but important strand in affecting national policies and attitudes. They help to strengthen bonds of friendship between our countries. They con- tribute to an objective mutual understanding which may be more valuable in international relationships than uncritical emotional attachment. One of the consequences of the growth of exchange programs has been a growing professionalism in the field-a concentration in evaluation and research to help plan exchange with greater intelligence and foresight. Improvement in the programs will actually come only when we have sound analyses of what we are trying to do and what we are actually accomplishing, as well as suggestions on what we can reasonably hope to achieve. This year, the Institute formed an advisory group of top-level American leaders to examine selected problems in the field of educational exchange and to formulate over-all policies in those areas where impartial guidance seemed to be needed. Among the educators serving on this committee are Franklin D. Murphy, Chancellor, University of Kansas; Charles Odegaard, Dean, Col- lege of Literature, Science, and the Arts, University of Michigan; George D. Stoddard, Educational Consultant, New York Univer- sity; and Gilbert White, President, Haverford College; as well as sources of support must be found if these programs are to grow and improve, and not wither and die. One way to lessen the value of these programs, and in fact to endanger them, is to set unrealistic goals for them. We have all seen newspaper articles which cite cultural exchange as a sure-fire "weapon for peace" in a nice contradiction of terms. Many programs have the stated goal of promoting international under- standing and good will. They have been endorsed as a means to guarantee support abroad for United States foreign policy. Although well-planned and well-operated exchange programs may contribute to achieving these important objectives, they cannot and should not be justified primarily on this basis. In the complex web of interhemisphere relations, the thousands of persons who have traveled between the Americas, of course, are a thin but important strand in affecting national policies and attitudes. They help to strengthen bonds of friendship between our countries. They con- tribute to an objective mutual understanding which may be more valuable in international relationships than uncritical emotional attachment. One of the consequences of the growth of exchange programs has been a growing professionalism in the field-a concentration in evaluation and research to help plan exchange with greater intelligence and foresight. Improvement in the programs will actually come only when we have sound analyses of what we are trying to do and what we are actually accomplishing, as well as suggestions on what we can reasonably hope to achieve. This year, the Institute formed an advisory group of top-level American leaders to examine selected problems in the field of educational exchange and to formulate over-all policies in those areas where impartial guidance seemed to be needed. Among the educators serving on this committee are Franklin D. Murphy, Chancellor, University of Kansas; Charles Odegaard, Dean, Col- lege of Literature, Science, and the Arts, University of Michigan; George D. Stoddard, Educational Consultant, New York Univer- sity; and Gilbert White, President, Haverford College; as well as sources of support must be found if these programs are to grow and improve, and not wither and die. One way to lessen the value of these programs, and in fact to endanger them, is to set unrealistic goals for them. We have all seen newspaper articles which cite cultural exchange as a sure-fire "weapon for peace" in a nice contradiction of terms. Many programs have the stated goal of promoting international under- standing and good will. They have been endorsed as a means to guarantee support abroad for United States foreign policy. Although well-planned and well-operated exchange programs may contribute to achieving these important objectives, they cannot and should not be justified primarily on this basis. In the complex web of interhemisphere relations, the thousands of persons who have traveled between the Americas, of course, are a thin but important strand in affecting national policies and attitudes. They help to strengthen bonds of friendship between our countries. They con- tribute to an objective mutual understanding which may be more valuable in international relationships than uncritical emotional attachment. One of the consequences of the growth of exchange programs has been a growing professionalism in the field-a concentration in evaluation and research to help plan exchange with greater intelligence and foresight. Improvement in the programs will actually come only when we have sound analyses of what we are trying to do and what we are actually accomplishing, as well as suggestions on what we can reasonably hope to achieve. This year, the Institute formed an advisory group of top-level American leaders to examine selected problems in the field of educational exchange and to formulate over-all policies in those areas where impartial guidance seemed to be needed. Among the educators serving on this committee are Franklin D. Murphy, Chancellor, University of Kansas; Charles Odegaard, Dean, Col- lege of Literature, Science, and the Arts, University of Michigan; George D. Stoddard, Educational Consultant, New York Univer- sity; and Gilbert White, President, Haverford College; as well as  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 233 such noted professors as Karl Deutsch of Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Allan Nevins of Columbia. This group, the Committee on Educational Interchange Policy, has recently agreed upon a statement on the goals of educational exchange, a statement defining and assessing the goals of students and their public or private sponsors. The relation of individual goals-self-advancement, education, career aims-to the more intangible goal of mutual understanding is discussed in this state- ment. The major purpose, as we see it, is education and the extension of knowledge for its own sake. Exchanges should attempt to satisfy the educational and professional aspirations of the indi- vidual participants, they should try to contribute to the general advancement of knowledge, they should work to contribute to the general cultural growth and personal broadening of the in- dividual participants. A new kind of research project is also being carried out at the present time by the Social Science Research Council, through its Committee on Cross-Cultural Education. This study, in two parts, has been an analysis of the adjustment process of a limited number of foreign students who had just entered the United States, and a concomitant analysis of the readjustment of students who returned to their homes after a period of study in this country. The study has been limited, for the time being, to exploratory surveys in four countries with contrasting cultures-India, Mexico, Sweden, and Japan. The findings of this study when it is completed, may ques- tion some of our basic assumptions about exchange programs and may cast new light on our assessment of the potentials of inter- national education. Certain findings in regard to Mexican students are interesting to us. The survey has shown that, on arrival, most Mexican stu- dents "accept and are a little disturbed by the technical and mechanical superiority of the United States because they are convinced of the moral superiority of Mexican culture with its primary emphasis upon spiritual values. They are sure that CULTURAL CONCEPTS 233 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 233 such noted professors as Karl Deutsch of Massachusetts Institute such noted professors as Karl Deutsch of Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Allan Nevins of Columbia. of Technology and Allan Nevins of Columbia. This group, the Committee on Educational Interchange Policy, This group, the Committee on Educational Interchange Policy, has recently agreed upon a statement on the goals of educational has recently agreed upon a statement on the goals of educational exchange, a statement defining and assessing the goals of students exchange, a statement defining and assessing the goals of students and their public or private sponsors. The relation of individual and their public or private sponsors. The relation of individual goals-self-advancement, education, career aims-to the more goals-self-advancement, education, career aims-to the more intangible goal of mutual understanding is discussed in this state- intangible goal of mutual understanding is discussed in this state- ment. ment. The major purpose, as we see it, is education and the extension The major purpose, as we see it, is education and the extension of knowledge for its own sake. Exchanges should attempt to of knowledge for its own sake. Exchanges should attempt to satisfy the educational and professional aspirations of the indi- satisfy the educational and professional aspirations of the indi- vidual participants, they should try to contribute to the general vidual participants, they should try to contribute to the general advancement of knowledge, they should work to contribute to advancement of knowledge, they should work to contribute to the general cultural growth and personal broadening of the in- the general cultural growth and personal broadening of the in- dividual participants. dividual participants. A new kind of research project is also being carried out at the A new kind of research project is also being carried out at the present time by the Social Science Research Council, through its present time by the Social Science Research Council, through its Committee on Cross-Cultural Education. This study, in two parts, Committee on Cross-Cultural Education. This study, in two parts, has been an analysis of the adjustment process of a limited number has been an analysis of the adjustment process of a limited number of foreign students who had just entered the United States, and a of foreign students who had just entered the United States, and a concomitant analysis of the readjustment of students who returned concomitant analysis of the readjustment of students who returned to their homes after a period of study in this country. The study to their homes after a period of study in this country. The study has been limited, for the time being, to exploratory surveys in four has been limited, for the time being, to exploratory surveys in four countries with contrasting cultures-India, Mexico, Sweden, and countries with contrasting cultures-India, Mexico, Sweden, and Japan. The findings of this study when it is completed, may ques- Japan. The findings of this study when it is completed, may ques- tion some of our basic assumptions about exchange programs and tion some of our basic assumptions about exchange programs and may cast new light on our assessment of the potentials of inter- may cast new light on our assessment of the potentials of inter- national education, national education. Certain findings in regard to Mexican students are interesting Certain findings in regard to Mexican students are interesting to us. The survey has shown that, on arrival, most Mexican stu- to us. The survey has shown that, on arrival, most Mexican stu- dents "accept and are a little disturbed by the technical and dents "accept and are a little disturbed by the technical and mechanical superiority of the United States because they are mechanical superiority of the United States because they are convinced of the moral superiority of Mexican culture with its convinced of the moral superiority of Mexican culture with its primary emphasis upon spiritual values. They are sure that primary emphasis upon spiritual values. They are sure that  234 The Caribbean 234 The Caribbean 234 The Caribbean Americans are selfish and irreligious. Family life is lacking, di- vorce is almost universal, children are without discipline, 'all American girls are easy,' and there is no respect for art, literature, or music." During their stay in the United States, their views on these subjects are modified, but "not without struggle." The study indicates that when the Mexican student discovers that the di- chotomy between materialistic and spiritual goals is less sharp than he expected, he is likely to feel that his self-esteem has been severe- ly threatened. "Only students with an objective sense of cultural relativism seem undisturbed. Others either seem ripe for aliena- tion from their own culture or take refuge in an iteration of moral superiority." They make such statements as "I still think that almost all the people in the United States think that the only goal in life is to get money, to get work. Besides making money, we [that is, Mexicans] have another goal." The degree to which Mexican students change their precon- ceived ideas apparently depends greatly upon the length of their stay, the closeness of the personal contacts they make, and the types of interests they have as individuals. The study also shows that whether these preconceptions are favorable or unfavorable, the most usual shift is not to discard them completely, but to dis- cover that they are not representative. While drawing certain conclusions from this study, we must, of course, keep in mind the pitfalls of generalizing and remember the "idiosyncratic nature of personal experience, and the rich va- riety of human personality," which make each student's experience unique and individual and which make measurement of the effects of international exchange difficult. VI I hope that these remarks will not discourage you about the potentials of international education. They should, I think serve the salutary purpose of helping make us all aware of the problems we face in the complex field of cultural and educational exchanges. Americans are selfish and irreligious. Family life is lacking, di- vorce is alnost universal, children are without discipline, 'all American girls are easy,' and there is no respect for art, literature, or music." During their stay in the United States, their views on these subjects are modified, but "not without struggle." The study indicates that when the Mexican student discovers that the di- chotomy between materialistic and spiritual goals is less sharp than he expected, he is likely to feel that his self-esteem has been severe- ly threatened. "Only students with an objective sense of cultural relativism seem undisturbed. Others either seem ripe for aliena- tion from their own culture or take refuge in an iteration of moral superiority." They make such statements as "I still think that almost all the people in the United States think that the only goal in life is to get money, to get work. Besides making money, we [that is, Mexicans] have another goal." The degree to which Mexican students change their precon- ceived ideas apparently depends greatly upon the length of their stay, the closeness of the personal contacts they make, and the types of interests they have as individuals. The study also shows that whether these preconceptions are favorable or unfavorable, the most usual shift is not to discard them completely, but to dis- cover that they are not representative. While drawing certain conclusions from this study, we must, of course, keep in mind the pitfalls of generalizing and remember the "idiosyncratic nature of personal experience, and the rich va- riety of human personality," which make each student's experience unique and individual and which make measurement of the effects of international exchange difficult. VI I hope that these remarks will not discourage you about the potentials of international education. They should, I think serve the salutary purpose of helping make us all aware of the problems we face in the complex field of cultural and educational exchanges. Americans are selfish and irreligious. Family life is lacking, di- vorce is almost universal, children are without discipline, 'all American girls are easy,' and there is no respect for art, literature, or music." During their stay in the United States, their views on these subjects are modified, but "not without struggle." The study indicates that when the Mexican student discovers that the di- chotomy between materialistic and spiritual goals is less sharp than he expected, he is likely to feel that his self-esteem has been severe- ly threatened. "Only students with an objective sense of cultural relativism seem undisturbed. Others either seem ripe for aliena- tion from their own culture or take refuge in an iteration of moral superiority." They make such statements as "I still think that almost all the people in the United States think that the only goal in life is to get money, to get work. Besides making money, we [that is, Mexicans] have another goal." The degree to which Mexican students change their precon- ceived ideas apparently depends greatly upon the length of their stay, the closeness of the personal contacts they make, and the types of interests they have as individuals. The study also shows that whether these preconceptions are favorable or unfavorable, the most usual shift is not to discard them completely, but to dis- cover that they are not representative. While drawing certain conclusions from this study, we must, of course, keep in mind the pitfalls of generalizing and remember the "idiosyncratic nature of personal experience, and the rich va- riety of human personality," which make each student's experience unique and individual and which make measurement of the effects of international exchange difficult. VI I hope that these remarks will not discourage you about the potentials of international education. They should, I think serve the salutary purpose of helping make us all aware of the problems we face in the complex field of cultural and educational exchanges.  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 235 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 235 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 235 With thoughtfulness and greater understanding, our program planning can be sounded, our effectiveness more assured. We know that international cultural and educational exchanges cannot be a panacea for all international and national problems. It is an important program, however, and an essential one for a country such as ours, with a leading role to play in world affairs. Cultural exchange should be seen as a means of communication between different peoples, as a way to make our lives richer, as an effective way to send knowledge where knowledge is most needed, and as a way to create new knowledge which can benefit all. Only secondarily should exchanges have the goal of developing favorable attitudes toward the host country as a political and cultural entity. While we recognize difficulties, we must believe in the essential value of having freer and more extensive cultural interchange, and have faith that as we grow in knowledge of each other, so will we grow in understanding and respect, and so will we benefit by mutual enrichment of our national cultures. Geographically, the Caribbean is a unit. In many respects our southern coast is more like Venezuela than like New England. Distances are not so great. Many of our interests and our problems are similar. If we can work within this area to promote mutual understanding between our varying cultures, we can begin to fulfill a promise forecasted in the sixteenth century, when our pair of continents was given one name, America. With thoughtfulness and greater understanding, our program planning can be sounded, our effectiveness more assured. We know that international cultural and educational exchanges cannot be a panacea for all international and national problems. It is an important program, however, and an essential one for a country such as ours, with a leading role to play in world affairs. Cultural exchange should be seen as a means of communication between different peoples, as a way to make our lives richer, as an effective way to send knowledge where knowledge is most needed, and as a way to create new knowledge which can benefit all. Only secondarily should exchanges have the goal of developing favorable attitudes toward the host country as a political and cultural entity. While we recognize difficulties, we must believe in the essential value of having freer and more extensive cultural interchange, and have faith that as we grow in knowledge of each other, so will we grow in understanding and respect, and so will we benefit by mutual enrichment of our national cultures. Geographically, the Caribbean is a unit. In many respects our southern coast is more like Venezuela than like New England. Distances are not so great. Many of our interests and our problems are similar. If we can work within this area to promote mutual understanding between our varying cultures, we can begin to fulfill a promise forecasted in the sixteenth century, when our pair of continents was given one name, America. With thoughtfulness and greater understanding, our program planning can be sounded, our effectiveness more assured. We know that international cultural and educational exchanges cannot be a panacea for all international and national problems. It is an important program, however, and an essential one for a country such as ours, with a leading role to play in world affairs. Cultural exchange should be seen as a means of communication between different peoples, as a way to make our lives richer, as an effective way to send knowledge where knowledge is most needed, and as a way to create new knowledge which can benefit all. Only secondarily should exchanges have the goal of developing favorable attitudes toward the host country as a political and cultural entity. While we recognize difficulties, we must believe in the essential value of having freer and more extensive cultural interchange, and have faith that as we grow in knowledge of each other, so will we grow in understanding and respect, and so will we benefit by mutual enrichment of our national cultures. Geographically, the Caribbean is a unit. In many respects our southern coast is more like Venezuela than like New England. Distances are not so great. Many of our interests and our problems are similar. If we can work within this area to promote mutual understanding between our varying cultures, we can begin to fulfill a promise forecasted in the sixteenth century, when our pair of continents was given one name, America.  David K. Easton: SOURCES FOR THE STUDY OF CARIBBEAN CULTURE BIBLIOGRAPHERS must be opportunists. Those who work in out-of-the-way places, or who are isolated in small libraries also with access to large collections, must have absolute faith in a divine Providence or be hopelessly optimistic, for the rivers of information which can be tapped from the collections which approximate universal knowledge are exclusively the preserve of great library systems in the "developed" areas of the world.' Regardless of all the efforts of very kind people-plus my own, which have been considerable-I am compelled to consider this bibliography "selective," not only because its contents represent entries which I have chosen for their appropriateness, but also because I collected data fast and furiously for as long a time as I was able, without by any means exhausting the depths of my sub- ject. I seek solace in the statement attributable to Mr. Verner Clapp of the Library of Congress: "The truth is that biblio- 1 I am indebted to the hospitality of the staffs of the Library of Congress and the Columbus Memorial Library of the Pan American Union during a two-week sojourn in Washington, for not having to depend exclusively on the limited resources of Trinidad libraries for the materials of bibliograph- ical research. I am also in debt to the many librarians with whom I corresponded when, after my return to Port-of-Spain, I discovered failures in my data that would have left awkward gaps in the bibliography if they had not been filled. David K. Easton: SOURCES FOR THE STUDY OF CARIBBEAN CULTURE BIBLIOGRAPHERS must be opportunists. Those who work in out-of-the-way places, or who are isolated in small libraries also with access to large collections, must have absolute faith in a divine Providence or be hopelessly optimistic, for the rivers of information which can be tapped from the collections which approximate universal knowledge are exclusively the preserve of great library systems in the "developed" areas of the world.' Regardless of all the efforts of very kind people-plus my own, which have been considerable-I am compelled to consider this bibliography "selective," not only because its contents represent entries which I have chosen for their appropriateness, but also because I collected data fast and furiously for as long a time as I was able, without by any means exhausting the depths of my sub- ject. I seek solace in the statement attributable to Mr. Verner Clapp of the Library of Congress: "The truth is that biblio- 1 I am indebted to the hospitality of the staffs of the Library of Congress and the Columbus Memorial Library of the Pan American Union during a two-week sojourn in Washington, for not having to depend exclusively on the limited resources of Trinidad libraries for the materials of bibliograph- ical research. I am also in debt to the many librarians with whom I corresponded when, after my return to Port-of-Spain, I discovered failures in my data that would have left awkward gaps in the bibliography if they had not been filled. 236 20 David K. Easton: SOURCES FOR THE STUDY OF CARIBBEAN CULTURE BIBLIOGRAPHERS must be opportunists. Those who work in out-of-the-way places, or who are isolated in small libraries also with access to large collections, must have absolute faith in a divine Providence or be hopelessly optimistic, for the rivers of information which can be tapped from the collections which approximate universal knowledge are exclusively the preserve of great library systems in the "developed" areas of the world.' Regardless of all the efforts of very kind people-plus my own, which have been considerable-I am compelled to consider this bibliography "selective," not only because its contents represent entries which I have chosen for their appropriateness, but also because I collected data fast and furiously for as long a time as I was able, without by any means exhausting the depths of my sub- ject. I seek solace in the statement attributable to Mr. Verner Clapp of the Library of Congress: "The truth is that biblio- 1 I am indebted to the hospitality of the staffs of the Library of Congress and the Columbus Memorial Library of the Pan American Union during a two-week sojourn in Washington, for not having to depend exclusively on the limited resources of Trinidad libraries for the materials of bibliograph- ical research. I am also in debt to the many librarians with whom I corresponded when, after my return to Port-of-Spain, I discovered failures in my data that would have left awkward gaps in the bibliography if they had not been filled. 236  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 31 graphics, like other records of human communication which they reflect, are particular and fragmentary manifestations of human interest and human intellectual activity."2 This quotation can be interpreted as claiming for the bibliographer the privilege of being artistically temperamental. But it is a matter of much more per- sonal convenience that Mr. Clapp states that records of human communication are fragmentary. I should like to add that biblio- graphic fragments have many holes, like slices of Swiss cheese, and that the use of the word "selective" is a way of glossing over an imperative in bibliographical compilation that may be necessar- ily good rather than evil. . Introduction "Once a work of art has been created, it passes into other hands than the artist's. The public, the critic, and the interpreter in- fluence it and have a responsibility to it."' The bibliographer of culture is also dealing with works of art-although in a rather indirect fashion-and he has the responsibility of organizing and synthesizing his entries and commentaries to serve the purpose of communicating knowledge. With such a purpose in view, anyone who undertakes within the confines of a brief monograph to com- pile a comprehensive bibliography on current Caribbean culture is liable to accusations which will interfere with any pretensions he has to a reputation for scholarship. The reason is that Caribbean, for the purposes of this conference, has been defined to include Mexico, Central America, the island republics and the island and continental dependencies-of France, Great Britain, the Nether- lands, and the United States-Colombia, and Venezuela; and cul- ture to include the arts, music, literature, education, and religion. Limitations on this vast subject area have, of course, been neces- ' Verner W. Clapp, "The Role of Bibliographic Organization in Con- temporary Civilization," Bibliographic Organization, ed. by Jesse H. Shera and Margaret E. Egan (Chicago, 1951), p. 15. ' "The Artist's Partners," Americas, III, No. 7 (Washington, D.C.), 37. CULTURAL CONCEPTS 237 graphies, like other records of human communication which they reflect, are particular and fragmentary manifestations of human interest and human intellectual activity."2 This quotation can be interpreted as claiming for the bibliographer the privilege of being artistically temperamental. But it is a matter of much more per- sonal convenience that Mr. Clapp states that records of human communication are fragmentary. I should like to add that biblio- graphic fragments have many holes, like slices of Swiss cheese, and that the use of the word "selective" is a way of glossing over an imperative in bibliographical compilation that may be necessar- ily good rather than evil. I. Introduction "Once a work of art has been created, it passes into other hands than the artist's. The public, the critic, and the interpreter in- fluence it and have a responsibility to it."' The bibliographer of culture is also dealing with works of art-although in a rather indirect fashion-and he has the responsibility of organizing and synthesizing his entries and commentaries to serve the purpose of communicating knowledge. With such a purpose in view, anyone who undertakes within the confines of a brief monograph to com- pile a comprehensive bibliography on current Caribbean culture is liable to accusations which will interfere with any pretensions he has to a reputation for scholarship. The reason is that Caribbean, for the purposes of this conference, has been defined to include Mexico, Central America, the island republics and the island and continental dependencies-of France, Great Britain, the Nether- lands, and the United States-Colombia, and Venezuela; and cul- ture to include the arts, music, literature, education, and religion. Limitations on this vast subject area have, of course, been neces- ' Verner W. Clapp, "The Role of Bibliographic Organization in Con- temporary Civilization," Bibliographic Organization, ed. by Jesse H. Shera and Margaret E. Egan (Chicago, 1951), p. 15. " "The Artist's Partners," Amdricas, III, No. 7 (Washington, D.C.), 37, CULTURAL CONCEPTS 237 graphies, like other records of human communication which they reflect, are particular and fragmentary manifestations of human interest and human intellectual activity."2 This quotation can be interpreted as claiming for the bibliographer the privilege of being artistically temperamental. But it is a matter of much more per- sonal convenience that Mr. Clapp states that records of human communication are fragmentary. I should like to add that biblio- graphic fragments have many holes, like slices of Swiss cheese, and that the use of the word "selective" is a way of glossing over an imperative in bibliographical compilation that may be necessar- ily good rather than evil. I. Introduction "Once a work of art has been created, it passes into other hands than the artist's. The public, the critic, and the interpreter in- fluence it and have a responsibility to it."3 The bibliographer of culture is also dealing with works of art-although in a rather indirect fashion-and he has the responsibility of organizing and synthesizing his entries and commentaries to serve the purpose of communicating knowledge. With such a purpose in view, anyone who undertakes within the confines of a brief monograph to com- pile a comprehensive bibliography on current Caribbean culture is liable to accusations which will interfere with any pretensions he has to a reputation for scholarship. The reason is that Caribbean, for the purposes of this conference, has been defined to include Mexico, Central America, the island republics and the island and continental dependencies-of France, Great Britain, the Nether- lands, and the United States-Colombia, and Venezuela; and cul- ture to include the arts, music, literature, education, and religion. Limitations on this vast subject area have, of course, been neces- ' Verner W. Clapp, "The Role of Bibliographic Organization in Con- temporary Civilization," Bibliographic Organization, ed. by Jesse H. Shera and Margaret E. Egan (Chicago, 1951), p. 15. ' "The Artist's Partners," Amdricas, III, No. 7 (Washington, D.C.), 37.  238 The Caribbean sary. The first one has been permitted by the conference agenda, but others I have had to take on my own responsibility. I have concentrated on current sources rather than those which, although they may be of importance historically and generically, represent steps in the evolution of culture in centuries past. This has not been such a great concession to my convenience as it may seem, for the Good Neighbor Policy of the Roosevelt Administra- tion of the 1930's stimulated such an articulate and literary in- terest in Latin America and the Caribbean that the work of the bibliographer has increased by geometric ratios. Moreover, some of the references that might have been left out on the basis of their age have proved to be like people we know who maintain their youthfulness over a long span of years, and, because of the persistence of cultural forms, have had to be included. Religion has been excluded as an independent subject in this paper, although a few of the general bibliographies contain sec- tions of religious references. Education, likewise, has received limited treatment, except in the chapter devoted to the Caribbean dependencies, where a special effort has been made to include sources on education, owing to reasons which I have explained in the paragraph introducing the section on bibliographies. Geographically, I have excluded both Colombia and Venezuela, because their modern cultures are generally considered as belong- ing more properly to that of continental South America. Although no entries devoted exclusively to these two countries have been included, both are, of course, represented in the general and sub- ject bibliographies which comprehend in scope Latin and Carib- bean America as well as wider geographical areas. This study is heavily weighted with sources of the Western Hemisphere. Although the greatest amount of bibliographical work in recent years may have been done here, this would not account for the numerical preponderance of such sources, for the cultural ties of Latin America with Spain, especially, and with France to a lesser degree, are closer than their affiliations with each other and with the United States. 238 The Caribbean 238 The Caribbean sary. The first one has been permitted by the conference agenda, but others I have had to take on my own responsibility. I have concentrated on current sources rather than those which, although they may be of importance historically and generically, represent steps in the evolution of culture in centuries past. This has not been such a great concession to my convenience as it may seem, for the Good Neighbor Policy of the Roosevelt Administra- tion of the 1930's stimulated such an articulate and literary in- terest in Latin America and the Caribbean that the work of the bibliographer has increased by geometric ratios. Moreover, some of the references that might have been left out on the basis of their age have proved to be like people we know who maintain their youthfulness over a long span of years, and, because of the persistence of cultural forms, have had to be included. Religion has been excluded as an independent subject in this paper, although a few of the general bibliographies contain sec- tions of religious references. Education, likewise, has received limited treatment, except in the chapter devoted to the Caribbean dependencies, where a special effort has been made to include sources on education, owing to reasons which I have explained in the paragraph introducing the section on bibliographies. Geographically, I have excluded both Colombia and Venezuela, because their modern cultures are generally considered as belong- ing more properly to that of continental South America. Although no entries devoted exclusively to these two countries have been included, both are, of course, represented in the general and sub- ject bibliographies which comprehend in scope Latin and Carib- bean America as well as wider geographical areas. This study is heavily weighted with sources of the Western Hemisphere. Although the greatest amount of bibliographical work in recent years may have been done here, this would not account for the numerical preponderance of such sources, for the cultural ties of Latin America with Spain, especially, and with France to a lesser degree, are closer than their affiliations with each other and with the United States. sary. The first one has been permitted by the conference agenda, but others I have had to take on my own responsibility. I have concentrated on current sources rather than those which, although they may be of importance historically and generically, represent steps in the evolution of culture in centuries past. This has not been such a great concession to my convenience as it may seem, for the Good Neighbor Policy of the Roosevelt Administra- tion of the 1930's stimulated such an articulate and literary in- terest in Latin America and the Caribbean that the work of the bibliographer has increased by geometric ratios. Moreover, some of the references that might have been left out on the basis of their age have proved to be like people we know who maintain their youthfulness over a long span of years, and, because of the persistence of cultural forms, have had to be included. Religion has been excluded as an independent subject in this paper, although a few of the general bibliographies contain sec- tions of religious references. Education, likewise, has received limited treatment, except in the chapter devoted to the Caribbean dependencies, where a special effort has been made to include sources on education, owing to reasons which I have explained in the paragraph introducing the section on bibliographies. Geographically, I have excluded both Colombia and Venezuela, because their modern cultures are generally considered as belong- ing more properly to that of continental South America. Although no entries devoted exclusively to these two countries have been included, both are, of course, represented in the general and sub- ject bibliographies which comprehend in scope Latin and Carib- bean America as well as wider geographical areas. This study is heavily weighted with sources of the Western Hemisphere. Although the greatest amount of bibliographical work in recent years may have been done here, this would not account for the numerical preponderance of such sources, for the cultural ties of Latin America with Spain, especially, and with France to a lesser degree, are closer than their affiliations with each other and with the United States.  CULTURAL CONCEPTS II. Bibliographies 239 CULTURAL CONCEPTS IL Bibliographies 239 CULTURAL CONCEPTS II. Bibliographies 239 I have divided the treatment of the bibliographical entries into four parts. First of all, there are the general bibliographies of wide subjects and international scope. Secondly, I have considered the special subject indexes. In both cases I have been torn between the choices of (1) including all important works, even those which are commonly known and found in basic reference sources, in order to make as thorough a presentation of the subject as pos- sible, and (2) including only those which relate more exclusively to the Caribbean area and are of most importance to the subject specialists. Limitations of space and a lack of the capacity on my part to produce the more ambitious type of project have required a medium solution that is heavily weighted in favor of the second choice. Thus, such important general and special subject tools as the Library of Congress Author Catalog and Subject Catalog, Best- erman's World Bibliography of Bibliographies, the Bibliographic Index, the Essay and General Literature Index, Granger's Index to Poetry, the Dramatic Index, the Art Index, and others have not been considered. The third category describes bibliographies of the Caribbean island and Central American republics; and the fourth, those of the island and continental Caribbean dependencies of France, Great Britain, the Netherlands, and the United States. I have treated the bibliography of the dependencies in greater detail than that of the Latin republics, because the record of the former, with the possible exception of Puerto Rico, has received relatively little attention in comparison with that of other areas of the world; so I have seized the opportunity of making what appears to be a semi- original contribution to the bibliography of a special area. 1. General Bibliographies with International Coverage This section is introduced with two bibliographies compiled by Raymond Leonard Grismer, because they cover the history of Spanish American literature from the earliest times to the present I have divided the treatment of the bibliographical entries into four parts. First of all, there are the general bibliographies of wide subjects and international scope. Secondly, I have considered the special subject indexes. In both cases I have been torn between the choices of (1) including all important works, even those which are commonly known and found in basic reference sources, in order to make as thorough a presentation of the subject as pos- sible, and (2) including only those which relate more exclusively to the Caribbean area and are of most importance to the subject specialists. Limitations of space and a lack of the capacity on my part to produce the more ambitious type of project have required a medium solution that is heavily weighted in favor of the second choice. Thus, such important general and special subject tools as the Library of Congress Author Catalog and Subject Catalog, Best- erman's World Bibliography of Bibliographies, the Bibliographic Index, the Essay and General Literature Index, Granger's Index to Poetry, the Dramatic Index, the Art Index, and others have not been considered. The third category describes bibliographies of the Caribbean island and Central American republics; and the fourth, those of the island and continental Caribbean dependencies of France, Great Britain, the Netherlands, and the United States. I have treated the bibliography of the dependencies in greater detail than that of the Latin republics, because the record of the former, with the possible exception of Puerto Rico, has received relatively little attention in comparison with that of other areas of the world; so I have seized the opportunity of making what appears to be a semi- original contribution to the bibliography of a special area. I. General Bibliographies with International Coverage This section is introduced with two bibliographies compiled by Raymond Leonard Grismer, because they cover the history of Spanish American literature from the earliest times to the present I have divided the treatment of the bibliographical entries into four parts. First of all, there are the general bibliographies of wide subjects and international scope. Secondly, I have considered the special subject indexes. In both cases I have been torn between the choices of (1) including all important works, even those which are commonly known and found in basic reference sources, in order to make as thorough a presentation of the subject as pos- sible, and (2) including only those which relate more exclusively to the Caribbean area and are of most importance to the subject specialists. Limitations of space and a lack of the capacity on my part to produce the more ambitious type of project have required a medium solution that is heavily weighted in favor of the second choice. Thus, such important general and special subject tools as the Library of Congress Author Catalog and Subject Catalog, Best- erman's World Bibliography of Bibliographies, the Bibliographic Index, the Essay and General Literature Index, Granger's Index to Poetry, the Dramatic Index, the Art Index, and others have not been considered. The third category describes bibliographies of the Caribbean island and Central American republics; and the fourth, those of the island and continental Caribbean dependencies of France, Great Britain, the Netherlands, and the United States. I have treated the bibliography of the dependencies in greater detail than that of the Latin republics, because the record of the former, with the possible exception of Puerto Rico, has received relatively little attention in comparison with that of other areas of the world; so I have seized the opportunity of making what appears to be a semi- original contribution to the bibliography of a special area. 1. General Bibliographies with International Coverage This section is introduced with two bibliographies compiled by Raymond Leonard Grismer, because they cover the history of Spanish American literature from the earliest times to the present  240 The Caribbean day. This may be evidence of pangs of conscience, which tells me that it is sacrilegious to restrict consideration of culture to the short span of current events. The first is A New Bibliography of the Literatures of Spain and Spanish America, Including Many Studies on Anthropology, Archaeology, Art, Economics, Education, Geography, Law, Music, Philosophy and Other Subjects (Du- buque, Iowa, 1941-1946), which was published in seven vol- umes, between 1941 and 1946. The second title-A Reference Index to 12,000 Spanish American Authors; a Guide to the Litera- ture of Spanish America (New York, 1939)-is more pertinent to this study because it is devoted entirely to the Spanish literature of the Western Hemisphere. It was issued as Volume 1, Series III, by the Inter-American Bibliographical and Library Association. The second edition of Cecil Knight Jones's Bibliography of Latin American Bibliographies (Washington, D.C., 1942), re- vised and enlarged by the author with the assistance of James A. Granier, includes histories of literature, encyclopaedias, and an- nuals containing bibliographic information as well as straight- forward bibliographies. It is a good reference tool for the student and is sufficiently exhaustive for the subject specialist. It does not include coverage of the British, French, and Dutch West Indies, the Guianas, or British Honduras. The literature of international organizations is important be- cause of the wide range of subject specialization, because of their concentration in many individual cases on social aspects of culture, and because of the excellent indexes and depository lists which publicize and make their publications more easily accessible. The United Nations Document Index has furnished, since 1950, a complete inventory of the publications of an organization which three years ago was the third largest publisher in the world. Although the United Nations program is most directly concerned with political, social, and economic affairs, many of its titles defy the artificial boundaries of classification. In addition, the Docu- ment Index is also a complete guide to the publications of the specialized agencies of the United Nations. 240 The Caribbean day. This may be evidence of pangs of conscience, which tells me that it is sacrilegious to restrict consideration of culture to the short span of current events. The first is A New Bibliography of the Literatures of Spain and Spanish America, Including Many Studies on Anthropology, Archaeology, Art, Economics, Education, Geography, Law, Music, Philosophy and Other Subjects (Du- buque, Iowa, 1941-1946), which was published in seven vol- umes, between 1941 and 1946. The second title-A Reference Index to 12,000 Spanish American Authors; a Guide to the Litera- ture of Spanish America (New York, 1939)-is more pertinent to this study because it is devoted entirely to the Spanish literature of the Western Hemisphere. It was issued as Volume I, Series III, by the Inter-American Bibliographical and Library Association. The second edition of Cecil Knight Jones's Bibliography of Latin American Bibliographies (Washington, D.C., 1942), re- vised and enlarged by the author with the assistance of James A. Granier, includes histories of literature, encyclopaedias, and an- nuals containing bibliographic information as well as straight- forward bibliographies. It is a good reference tool for the student and is sufficiently exhaustive for the subject specialist. It does not include coverage of the British, French, and Dutch West Indies, the Guianas, or British Honduras. The literature of international organizations is important be- cause of the wide range of subject specialization, because of their concentration in many individual cases on social aspects of culture, and because of the excellent indexes and depository lists which publicize and make their publications more easily accessible. The United Nations Document Index has furnished, since 1950, a complete inventory of the publications of an organization which three years ago was the third largest publisher in the world. Although the United Nations program is most directly concerned with political, social, and economic affairs, many of its titles defy the artificial boundaries of classification. In addition, the Docu- ment Index is also a complete guide to the publications of the specialized agencies of the United Nations. 240 The Caribbean day. This may be evidence of pangs of conscience, which tells me that it is sacrilegious to restrict consideration of culture to the short span of current events. The first is A New Bibliography of the Literatures of Spain and Spanish America, Including Many Studies on Anthropology, Archaeology, Art, Economics, Education, Geography, Law, Music, Philosophy and Other Subjects (Du- buque, Iowa, 1941-1946), which was published in seven vol- umes, between 1941 and 1946. The second title-A Reference Index to 12,000 Spanish American Authors; a Guide to the Litera- ture of Spanish America (New York, 1939)-is more pertinent to this study because it is devoted entirely to the Spanish literature of the Western Hemisphere. It was issued as Volume I, Series III, by the Inter-American Bibliographical and Library Association. The second edition of Cecil Knight Jones's Bibliography of Latin American Bibliographies (Washington, D.C., 1942), re- vised and enlarged by the author with the assistance of James A. Granier, includes histories of literature, encyclopaedias, and an- nuals containing bibliographic information as well as straight- forward bibliographies. It is a good reference tool for the student and is sufficiently exhaustive for the subject specialist. It does not include coverage of the British, French, and Dutch West Indies, the Guianas, or British Honduras. The literature of international organizations is important be- cause of the wide range of subject specialization, because of their concentration in many individual cases on social aspects of culture, and because of the excellent indexes and depository lists which publicize and make their publications more easily accessible. The United Nations Document Index has furnished, since 1950, a complete inventory of the publications of an organization which three years ago was the third largest publisher in the world. Although the United Nations program is most directly concerned with political, social, and economic affairs, many of its titles defy the artificial boundaries of classification. In addition, the Docu- ment Index is also a complete guide to the publications of the specialized agencies of the United Nations.  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 241 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 241 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 241 The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations publishes many monographs on vocational education in agriculture and home economics, and Unesco's program is devoted to educa- tion, art and education, the preservation of records, and other projects. Its Index Bibliographicus is worthy of special mention, for Volume 2 (3rd edition, Paris, 1952) lists bibliographies and abstracting journals in the social sciences, education, and the humanistic sciences. The Organization of American States and its secretariat in Washington, D. C., the Pan American Union, sponsor the greatest number of lists of Latin American subject matter. Perhaps their most consecutive effort is that which commenced with the Pan American Bookshelf in 1938. This was a monthly publication with an annual author index which listed books currently received by the Columbus Memorial Library. It ceased publication in 1948 and was succeeded by LEA (Librarians, Editors, Authors), which contains "new books of the Americas," notices of new periodicals, lists of suspended periodicals, directories of publishing houses and book stores, special feature articles, and excellent indexes to its many services. It was superseded in 1951 by the Inter-American Review of Bibliography. The Review is now issued three times a year in four languages. In evolving from its two predecessors, it has added qualities that make it a sophisticated literary magazine, but its bibliographical assets do not quite match those of LEA. Its contents regularly include biographical articles, book reviews, a classified list of recent books and pamphlets, and "notes and news." Entries are selected by regional editors in the different countries, and among these are correspondents for the Dutch, British, and French Caribbean. The Catalog of Pan American Union Publications in English, Spanish, Portuguese, and French, published at periodic intervals since 1950, lists all the publications either issued or sponsored by the Organization of American States. The Columbus Memorial Library has published since September, 1950, a List of Books The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations publishes many monographs on vocational education in agriculture and home economics, and Unesco's program is devoted to educa- tion, art and education, the preservation of records, and other projects. Its Index Bibliographicus is worthy of special mention, for Volume 2 (3rd edition, Paris, 1952) lists bibliographies and abstracting journals in the social sciences, education, and the humanistic sciences. The Organization of American States and its secretariat in Washington, D. C., the Pan American Union, sponsor the greatest number of lists of Latin American subject matter. Perhaps their most consecutive effort is that which commenced with the Pan American Bookshelf in 1938. This was a monthly publication with an annual author index which listed books currently received by the Columbus Memorial Library. It ceased publication in 1948 and was succeeded by LEA (Librarians, Editors, Authors), which contains "new books of the Americas," notices of new periodicals, lists of suspended periodicals, directories of publishing houses and book stores, special feature articles, and excellent indexes to its many services. It was superseded in 1951 by the Inter-American Review of Bibliography. The Review is now issued three times a year in four languages. In evolving from its two predecessors, it has added qualities that make it a sophisticated literary magazine, but its bibliographical assets do not quite match those of LEA. Its contents regularly include biographical articles, book reviews, a classified list of recent books and pamphlets, and "notes and news." Entries are selected by regional editors in the different countries, and among these are correspondents for the Dutch, British, and French Caribbean. The Catalog of Pan American Union Publications in English, Spanish, Portuguese, and French, published at periodic intervals since 1950, lists all the publications either issued or sponsored by the Organization of American States. The Columbus Memorial Library has published since September, 1950, a List of Books The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations publishes many monographs on vocational education in agriculture and home economics, and Unesco's program is devoted to educa- tion, art and education, the preservation of records, and other projects. Its Index Bibliographicus is worthy of special mention, for Volume 2 (3rd edition, Paris, 1952) lists bibliographies and abstracting journals in the social sciences, education, and the humanistic sciences. The Organization of American States and its secretariat in Washington, D. C., the Pan American Union, sponsor the greatest number of lists of Latin American subject matter. Perhaps their most consecutive effort is that which commenced with the Pan American Bookshelf in 1938. This was a monthly publication with an annual author index which listed books currently received by the Columbus Memorial Library. It ceased publication in 1948 and was succeeded by LEA (Librarians, Editors, Authors), which contains "new books of the Americas," notices of new periodicals, lists of suspended periodicals, directories of publishing houses and book stores, special feature articles, and excellent indexes to its many services. It was superseded in 1951 by the Inter-American Review of Bibliography. The Review is now issued three times a year in four languages. In evolving from its two predecessors, it has added qualities that make it a sophisticated literary magazine, but its bibliographical assets do not quite match those of LEA. Its contents regularly include biographical articles, book reviews, a classified list of recent books and pamphlets, and "notes and news." Entries are selected by regional editors in the different countries, and among these are correspondents for the Dutch, British, and French Caribbean. The Catalog of Pan American Union Publications in English, Spanish, Portuguese, and French, published at periodic intervals since 1950, lists all the publications either issued or sponsored by the Organization of American States. The Columbus Memorial Library has published since September, 1950, a List of Books  242 The Caribbean 242 The Caribbean Accessioned and Periodical Articles Indexed, although until Feb- ruary 1951, only monographs comprised the list. There are many other O.A.S. titles which are associated with particular fields, and which can therefore be mentioned in their subject context. The most valuable and inclusive current bibliography for the period since 1936 (the 1952 volume is now in press) is the Handbook of Latin American Studies. It is now edited by Fran- cisco Aguilera for the Hispanic Foundation of the Library of Con- gress. Corresponding editors are subject experts as well as area specialists, and it is the serious quality of their interest in the Handbook that makes it such an excellent work. It has inter- national coverage, but it is more particularly Western Hemisphere. The chapters of the Handbook pertinent to the subject matter of this paper are those on Art, Education, Spanish American Lan- guage, Spanish American Literature, Haitian Language and Litera- ture, and Music. A large percentage of both monographic and periodical article entries are annotated. The index for each vol- ume has included, since the 1950 edition, subject as well as author entries. The list of abbreviations in the back of each volume gives an idea of the extent of the coverage of the Hand- book, and the number of references to periodicals in the text is evidence of the major importance which periodical articles play in the literature of the subject. I have unfortunately been unable adequately to examine the many Latin American periodicals which are so rich in content and influential in developing the consciousness of artistic values among the peoples of both continents. One can gain an idea of the quality of their subject matter, however, by reading the annotated references in the Handbook to such famous publications as Cuadernos Americanos (M6xico, D.F.), Hispania (Madrid), Estudios Americanos (Sevilla), Revista Iberoamericana (Mexico, D.F.), Revue Historique (Paris), the Bulletin of the Pan Ameri- can Union (Washington, D. C.), West India Review (Kingston, Jamaica), Amdricas (Washington, D. C.), and many others. The last title, published by the Pan American Union, has been an in- Accessioned and Periodical Articles Indexed, although until Feb- ruary 1951, only monographs comprised the list. There are many other O.A.S. titles which are associated with particular fields, and which can therefore be mentioned in their subject context. The most valuable and inclusive current bibliography for the period since 1936 (the 1952 volume is now in press) is the Handbook of Latin American Studies. It is now edited by Fran- cisco Aguilera for the Hispanic Foundation of the Library of Con- gress. Corresponding editors are subject experts as well as area specialists, and it is the serious quality of their interest in the Handbook that makes it such an excellent work. It has inter- national coverage, but it is more particularly Western Hemisphere. The chapters of the Handbook pertinent to the subject matter of this paper are those on Art, Education, Spanish American Lan- guage, Spanish American Literature, Haitian Language and Litera- ture, and Music. A large percentage of both monographic and periodical article entries are annotated. The index for each vol- ume has included, since the 1950 edition, subject as well as author entries. The list of abbreviations in the back of each volume gives an idea of the extent of the coverage of the Hand- book, and the number of references to periodicals in the text is evidence of the major importance which periodical articles play in the literature of the subject. I have unfortunately been unable adequately to examine the many Latin American periodicals which are so rich in content and influential in developing the consciousness of artistic values among the peoples of both continents. One can gain an idea of the quality of their subject matter, however, by reading the annotated references in the Handbook to such famous publications as Cuadernos Americanos (M6xico, D.F.), Hispania (Madrid), Estudios Americanos (Sevilla), Revista Iberoamericana (Mexico, D.F.), Revue Historique (Paris), the Bulletin of the Pan Ameri- can Union (Washington, D. C.), West India Review (Kingston, Jamaica), Americas (Washington, D. C.), and many others. The last title, published by the Pan American Union, has been an in- 242 The Caribbean Accessioned and Periodical Articles Indexed, although until Feb- ruary 1951, only monographs comprised the list. There are many other O.A.S. titles which are associated with particular fields, and which can therefore be mentioned in their subject context. The most valuable and inclusive current bibliography for the period since 1936 (the 1952 volume is now in press) is the Handbook of Latin American Studies. It is now edited by Fran- cisco Aguilera for the Hispanic Foundation of the Library of Con- gress. Corresponding editors are subject experts as well as area specialists, and it is the serious quality of their interest in the Handbook that makes it such an excellent work. It has inter- national coverage, but it is more particularly Western Hemisphere. The chapters of the Handbook pertinent to the subject matter of this paper are those on Art, Education, Spanish American Lan- guage, Spanish American Literature, Haitian Language and Litera- ture, and Music. A large percentage of both monographic and periodical article entries are annotated. The index for each vol- ume has included, since the 1950 edition, subject as well as author entries. The list of abbreviations in the back of each volume gives an idea of the extent of the coverage of the Hand- book, and the number of references to periodicals in the text is evidence of the major importance which periodical articles play in the literature of the subject. I have unfortunately been unable adequately to examine the many Latin American periodicals which are so rich in content and influential in developing the consciousness of artistic values among the peoples of both continents. One can gain an idea of the quality of their subject matter, however, by reading the annotated references in the Handbook to such famous publications as Cuadernos Americanos (Mexico, D.F.), Hispania (Madrid), Estudios Americanos (Sevilla), Revista Iberoamericana (Mixico, D.F.), Revue Historique (Paris), the Bulletin of the Pan Ameri- can Union (Washington, D. C.), West India Review (Kingston, Jamaica), Americas (Washington, D. C.), and many others. The last title, published by the Pan American Union, has been an in-  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 243 valuable source of "anthological" information, and I have learned much concerning modern schools of art, music, and literature from reading the critical reviews which it contains. In the field of thesis literature, the three bibliographies most frequently referred to are the Pan American Union's Theses on Pan American Topics Prepared by Candidates for Degrees in Uni- versities and Colleges in the U.S., which is usually published at intervals of three and four years; The University of Florida School of Inter-American Studies' Survey of Research and Investi- gations in Progress and Contemplated in the Field of Latin Ameri- can Subjects in Colleges and Universities in the U. S. and Can- ada, compiled by Edward Marasciulo and issued in 1953; and Sturgis E. Leavitt's "Theses Dealing with Hispano-American Language and Literature," published periodically in Hispania (Stanford University, Calif.). Unfortunately, all these lists are limited to scholarship in the United States and Canada. Ronald Hilton's Handbook of Hispanic Source Materials and Research Organizations in the United States (Toronto, Ont., 1942) is a directory rather than a straightforward bibliography, and it is somewhat out of date. Other union lists and directories which should be very useful to scholars working on cultural proj- ects are Arthur E. Gropp's Union List of Latin American News- papers in the United States (Washington, D.C., 1953); Kather- ine Lenore Morgan's Latin American University Journals and Serial Publications (Washington, D.C., 1944); the Union List of Serials (New York), with recent supplements; the Union List of Microfilms (Ann Arbor, Mich.) including the Supplement, 1949-1952; and Dissertation Abstracts (Ann Arbor, Mich.). The last publication lists microfilm copies of theses of American uni- versities and designates those which are on microfilm. Micro- filmed dissertations of foreign universities are included in the Union List of Microfilms. There are two bibliographical dictionaries which are worthy of mention, because the better-known works of authors are listed in the individual biographies. The Diccionario biogrd/co espanol e CULTURAL CONCEPTS 243 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 243 valuable source of "anthological" information, and I have learned valuable source of "anthological" information, and I have learned much concerning modern schools of art, music, and literature from much concerning modern schools of art, music, and literature from reading the critical reviews which it contains, reading the critical reviews which it contains. In the field of thesis literature, the three bibliographies most In the field of thesis literature, the three bibliographies most frequently referred to are the Pan American Union's Theses on frequently referred to are the Pan American Union's Theses on Pan American Topics Prepared by Candidates for Degrees in Uni- Pan American Topics Prepared by Candidates for Degrees in Uni- versities and Colleges in the U.S., which is usually published at versities and Colleges in the U.S., which is usually published at intervals of three and four years; The University of Florida intervals of three and four years; The University of Florida School of Inter-American Studies' Survey of Research and Investi- School of Inter-American Studies' Survey of Research and Investi- gations in Progress and Contemplated in the Field of Latin Ameri- gations in Progress and Contemplated in the Field of Latin Ameri- can Subjects in Colleges and Universities in the U. S. and Can- can Subjects in Colleges and Universities in the U. S. and Can- ada, compiled by Edward Marasciulo and issued in 1953; and ada, compiled by Edward Marasciulo and issued in 1953; and Sturgis E. Leavitt's "Theses Dealing with Hispano-American Sturgis E. Leavitt's "Theses Dealing with Hispano-American Language and Literature," published periodically in Hispania Language and Literature," published periodically in Hispania (Stanford University, Calif.). Unfortunately, all these lists are (Stanford University, Calif.). Unfortunately, all these lists are limited to scholarship in the United States and Canada. limited to scholarship in the United States and Canada. Ronald Hilton's Handbook of Hispanic Source Materials and Ronald Hilton's Handbook of Hispanic Source Materials and Research Organizations in the United States (Toronto, Ont., Research Organizations in the United States (Toronto, Ont., 1942) is a directory rather than a straightforward bibliography, 1942) is a directory rather than a straightforward bibliography, and it is somewhat out of date. Other union lists and directories and it is somewhat out of date. Other union lists and directories which should be very useful to scholars working on cultural proj- which should be very useful to scholars working on cultural proj- ects are Arthur E. Gropp's Union List of Latin American News- ects are Arthur E. Gropp's Union List of Latin American News- papers in the United States (Washington, D.C., 1953); Kather- papers in the United States (Washington, D.C., 1953); Kather- ine Lenore Morgan's Latin American University Journals and me Lenore Morgan's Latin American University Journals and Serial Publications (Washington, D.C., 1944); the Union List Serial Publications (Washington, D.C., 1944); the Union List of Serials (New York), with recent supplements; the Union List of Serials (New York), with recent supplements; the Union List of Microfilms (Ann Arbor, Mich.) including the Supplement, of Microfilms (Ann Arbor, Mich.) including the Supplement, 1949-1952; and Dissertation Abstracts (Ann Arbor, Mich.). The 1949-1952; and Dissertation Abstracts (Ann Arbor, Mich.). The last publication lists microfilm copies of theses of American uni- last publication lists microfilm copies of theses of American uni- versities and designates those which are on microfilm. Micro- versities and designates those which are on microfilm. Micro- filmed dissertations of foreign universities are included in the filmed dissertations of foreign universities are included in the Union List of Microfilms. Union List of Microfilms. There are two bibliographical dictionaries which are worthy of There are two bibliographical dictionaries which are worthy of mention, because the better-known works of authors are listed in mention, because the better-known works of authors are listed in the individual biographies. The Diccionario biogrd/lco espanol a the individual biographies. The Diccionario biogrdco espanol e  244 The Caribbean hispanoamericano is being published under the direction of Gasper Sabater, with the editorial assistance of Spanish and Hispanic American specialists. The first annual was published in 1950 by the Instituto Espanol de Estudios Biogrificos in Madrid. It covers a wider geographical area, but is less comprehensive for Latin America than Who's Who in Latin America, for which seven vol- umes have been issued to date. Part I comprises Mexico; Part II, Central America and Panama; and Part VII, Cuba, Dominican Republic, and Haiti. 2. Special Subject Bibliographies A. Literature Two works of recent issue, which contain bibliographies of bibliography as well as of literary forms, are Jose Simon Diaz' Bibliograffa de literatura hispdnica (Madrid, 1950-1951) and Jose Manuel Topete's A Working Bibliography of Latin American Literature (St. Augustine, Fla., 1952). The former is a compre- hensive bibliography of all Hispanic literature with author and library indexes included. Latin American literatures are consid- ered separately, with titles published as late as 1949 included. Periodical articles and unpublished works such as theses, as well as books, are entered. Two volumes have been published to date. Subsequent volumes will be devoted to the bibliographies of indi- vidual authors. Topete's work was published as Volume 12 of Series I of the Inter-American Bibliographical and Library Association. Histories of literature, bibliographies, anthologies, translations, and works of criticism are classified by country. Its usefulness is enhanced by an author index. The Literary History of Spanish America by Alfred Coester (New York, 1916) is notable because it was the first effort in the English language of a thorough survey of the field. An Outline History of Spanish American Literature, written in collaboration by John A. Crow, John Eugene Englekirk, E. Herman Hespelt, 244 The Caribbean hispanoamericano is being published under the direction of Gasper Sabater, with the editorial assistance of Spanish and Hispanic American specialists. The first annual was published in 1950 by the Instituto Espanol de Estudios Biograficos in Madrid. It covers a wider geographical area, but is less comprehensive for Latin America than Who's Who in Latin America, for which seven vol- umes have been issued to date. Part I comprises Mexico; Part II, Central America and Panama; and Part VII, Cuba, Dominican Republic, and Haiti. 2. Special Subject Bibliographies A. Literature Two works of recent issue, which contain bibliographies of bibliography as well as of literary forms, are Jose Simon Diaz' Bibliografia de literatura hispdnica (Madrid, 1950-1951) and Jose Manuel Topete's A Working Bibliography of Latin American Literature (St. Augustine, Fla., 1952). The former is a compre- hensive bibliography of all Hispanic literature with author and library indexes included. Latin American literatures are consid- ered separately, with titles published as late as 1949 included. Periodical articles and unpublished works such as theses, as well as books, are entered. Two volumes have been published to date. Subsequent volumes will be devoted to the bibliographies of indi- vidual authors. Topete's work was published as Volume 12 of Series I of the Inter-American Bibliographical and Library Association. Histories of literature, bibliographies, anthologies, translations, and works of criticism are classified by country. Its usefulness is enhanced by an author index. The Literary History of Spanish America by Alfred Coester (New York, 1916) is notable because it was the first effort in the English language of a thorough survey of the field. An Outline History of Spanish American Literature, written in collaboration by John A. Crow, John Eugene Englekirk, E. Herman Hespelt, 244 The Caribbean hispanoamericano is being published under the direction of Gasper Sabater, with the editorial assistance of Spanish and Hispanic American specialists. The first annual was published in 1950 by the Instituto Espanol de Estudios Biogrdficos in Madrid. It covers a wider geographical area, but is less comprehensive for Latin America than Who's Who in Latin America, for which seven vol- umes have been issued to date. Part I comprises Mexico; Part II, Central America and Panama; and Part VII, Cuba, Dominican Republic, and Haiti. 2. Special Subject Bibliographies A. Literature Two works of recent issue, which contain bibliographies of bibliography as well as of literary forms, are Jose Simon Diaz' Bibliografia de literatura hispdnica (Madrid, 1950-1951) and Jose Manuel Topete's A Working Bibliography of Latin American Literature (St. Augustine, Fla., 1952). The former is a compre- hensive bibliography of all Hispanic literature with author and library indexes included. Latin American literatures are consid- ered separately, with titles published as late as 1949 included. Periodical articles and unpublished works such as theses, as well as books, are entered. Two volumes have been published to date. Subsequent volumes will be devoted to the bibliographies of indi- vidual authors. Topete's work was published as Volume 12 of Series I of the Inter-American Bibliographical and Library Association. Histories of literature, bibliographies, anthologies, translations, and works of criticism are classified by country. Its usefulness is enhanced by an author index. The Literary History of Spanish America by Alfred Coester (New York, 1916) is notable because it was the first effort in the English language of a thorough survey of the field. An Outline History of Spanish American Literature, written in collaboration by John A. Crow, John Eugene Englekirk, E. Herman Hespelt,  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 245 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 245 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 245 and others, and sponsored by the Instituto Internacional de Liter- atura Iberoamericana (2nd ed., New York, 1942), is more up to date, concise, and bibliographical. Books Abroad (Norman, Okla.) is devoted to current writing in countries other than the United States. Each issue contains sec- tions of short reviews of new literary books in many languages and reviews of articles in the principal literary magazines of the West- ern World. One does not easily find reference sources of wide coverage such as this, which report, although only occasionally, the literary creations of the relatively isolated non-Spanish West Indies and the Guianas. Two analyses of Latin American literary trends, which are especially worthy of mention, are Pedro Henriquez-Urena's Liter- ary Currents in Hispanic America (Cambridge, Mass., 1949) and Arturo Torres-Rioseco's New World Literature; Tradition and Revolt in Latin America (Berkeley, Calif., 1949). Both authors are considered pre-eminent authorities in the field. Lorna Isabella Stafford's La literatura de las Amiricas; The American Republics in Fiction and Non-Fiction (Washington, D.C., 1944) is a selective bibliography which was compiled for members of the Pan American Round Table of Mexico City. Other titles of the Pan American Union in the field of literature are (1) Panorama; Record of Inter-American Cultural Events, which was published from October, 1935, to August, 1948, and is again being issued currently as a quarterly review reprinting articles of general cultural interest; (2) Literature in Latin America (1950); (3) Latin American Literature; References to Material in English (1941), annotated by Concha Romero James and Francisco Aguilera; and (4) Latin American Writers in Eng- lish Translation, a Tentative Bibliography, by Willis Knapp Jones (1944). The first title is important because of the critical essays it contains on Latin American literature, and the last two, as the titles imply, are practical sources for those who prefer to have their reading material in the English language. The subject of the novel may be left in the capable hands of and others, and sponsored by the Instituto Internacional de Liter- atura Iberoamericana (2nd ed., New York, 1942), is more up to date, concise, and bibliographical. Books Abroad (Norman, Okla.) is devoted to current writing in countries other than the United States. Each issue contains sec- tions of short reviews of new literary books in many languages and reviews of articles in the principal literary magazines of the West- ern World. One does not easily find reference sources of wide coverage such as this, which report, although only occasionally, the literary creations of the relatively isolated non-Spanish West Indies and the Guianas. Two analyses of Latin American literary trends, which are especially worthy of mention, are Pedro Henriquez-Ureia's Liter- ary Currents in Hispanic America (Cambridge, Mass., 1949) and Arturo Torres-Rioseco's New World Literature; Tradition and Revolt in Latin America (Berkeley, Calif., 1949). Both authors are considered pre-eminent authorities in the field. Lorna Isabella Stafford's La literatura de las Amiricas; The American Republics in Fiction and Non-Fiction (Washington, D.C., 1944) is a selective bibliography which was compiled for members of the Pan American Round Table of Mexico City. Other titles of the Pan American Union in the field of literature are (1) Panorama; Record of Inter-American Cultural Events, which was published from October, 1935, to August, 1948, and is again being issued currently as a quarterly review reprinting articles of general cultural interest; (2) Literature in Latin America (1950); (3) Latin American Literature; References to Material in English (1941), annotated by Concha Romero James and Francisco Aguilera; and (4) Latin American Writers in Eng- lish Translation, a Tentative Bibliography, by Willis Knapp Jones (1944). The first title is important because of the critical essays it contains on Latin American literature, and the last two, as the titles imply, are practical sources for those who prefer to have their reading material in the English language. The subject of the novel may be left in the capable hands of and others, and sponsored by the Instituto Internacional de Liter- atura Iberoamericana (2nd ed., New York, 1942), is more up to date, concise, and bibliographical. Books Abroad (Norman, Okla.) is devoted to current writing in countries other than the United States. Each issue contains sec- tions of short reviews of new literary books in many languages and reviews of articles in the principal literary magazines of the West- ern World. One does not easily find reference sources of wide coverage such as this, which report, although only occasionally, the literary creations of the relatively isolated non-Spanish West Indies and the Guianas. Two analyses of Latin American literary trends, which are especially worthy of mention, are Pedro Henriquez-Urena's Liter- ary Currents in Hispanic America (Cambridge, Mass., 1949) and Arturo Torres-Rioseco's New World Literature; Tradition and Revolt in Latin America (Berkeley, Calif., 1949). Both authors are considered pre-eminent authorities in the field. Lorna Isabella Stafford's La literatura de las Amiricas; The American Republics in Fiction and Non-Fiction (Washington, D.C., 1944) is a selective bibliography which was compiled for members of the Pan American Round Table of Mexico City. Other titles of the Pan American Union in the field of literature are (1) Panorama; Record of Inter-American Cultural Events, which was published from October, 1935, to August, 1948, and is again being issued currently as a quarterly review reprinting articles of general cultural interest; (2) Literature in Latin America (1950); (3) Latin American Literature; References to Material in English (1941), annotated by Concha Romero James and Francisco Aguilera; and (4) Latin American Writers in Eng- lish Translation, a Tentative Bibliography, by Willis Knapp Jones (1944). The first title is important because of the critical essays it contains on Latin American literature, and the last two, as the titles imply, are practical sources for those who prefer to have their reading material in the English language. The subject of the novel may be left in the capable hands of  246 The Caribbean Arturo Torres-Rioseco and Pedro Henriquez-Urena. Torres-Rio- seco, in particular, has devoted a great deal of effort to it, for his three volume La novela en la Amirica Hispana (Berkeley, 1939- 1943) and the more recent Grandes novelistas de la America Hispana (Berkeley, 1949) are exhaustive works. The latter con- tains bibliographies of individual novelists. Poetry, unlike drama, has not been a neglected art in the Carib- bean area. This is particularly true in the case of the Latin re- publics. Although there are many Spanish anthologies, attention is here restricted to some of the better English translations. Ex- amples are Thomas Walsh's Spanish Anthology (New York, 1920); the Hispanic Society of America's Translations from His- panic Poets (New York, 1938); Alice Stone Blackwell's Some Latin American Poets-the revised edition, with introduction and notes by Isaac Goldberg (Philadelphia, 1937); and Dudley Fitts' Anthology of Contemporary Latin American Poetry (Norfolk, Conn., 1942). B. Art The painting, sculpture, and architecture of the pre-Colonial period and the Spanish period in Latin American art are tre- mendously impressive and important. The documentation which exists in print for these two periods is greatly in excess of that which is available for the so-called modern period, perhaps be- cause, at least to my unpractised eye, recognition of schools of modern art in the Caribbean area seems to have occurred only within the last twenty to thirty years. A recent major contribution to the bibliography of Latin Ameri- can art is Robert C. Smith and Elizabeth Wilder's A Guide to the Art of Latin America (Washington, D.C., 1948), published by the Hispanic Foundation of the Library of Congress. It is an index of books and articles published prior to 1942 and is classi- fied by subject under country subdivisions. Entries are annotated, and an index makes the information easily accessible. Volume I of the Bibliografia de arte espatnol y americano was 246 The Caribbean Arturo Torres-Rioseco and Pedro Henriquez-Urena. Torres-Rio- seco, in particular, has devoted a great deal of effort to it, for his three volume La novela en la Amirica Hispana (Berkeley, 1939- 1943) and the more recent Grandes novelistas de la Amirica Hispana (Berkeley, 1949) are exhaustive works. The latter con- tains bibliographies of individual novelists. Poetry, unlike drama, has not been a neglected art in the Carib- bean area. This is particularly true in the case of the Latin re- publics. Although there are many Spanish anthologies, attention is here restricted to some of the better English translations. Ex- amples are Thomas Walsh's Spanish Anthology (New York, 1920); the Hispanic Society of America's Translations from His- panic Poets (New York, 1938); Alice Stone Blackwell's Some Latin American Poets-the revised edition, with introduction and notes by Isaac Goldberg (Philadelphia, 1937); and Dudley Fitts' Anthology of Contemporary Latin American Poetry (Norfolk, Conn., 1942). B. Art The painting, sculpture, and architecture of the pre-Colonial period and the Spanish period in Latin American art are tre- mendously impressive and important. The documentation which exists in print for these two periods is greatly in excess of that which is available for the so-called modern period, perhaps be- cause, at least to my unpractised eye, recognition of schools of modern art in the Caribbean area seems to have occurred only within the last twenty to thirty years. A recent major contribution to the bibliography of Latin Ameri- can art is Robert C. Smith and Elizabeth Wilder's A Guide to the Art of Latin America (Washington, D.C., 1948), published by the Hispanic Foundation of the Library of Congress. It is an index of books and articles published prior to 1942 and is classi- fCed by subject under country subdivisions. Entries are annotated, and an index makes the information easily accessible. Volume I of the Bibliografia de arte espanol y americano was 246 The Caribbean Arturo Torres-Rioseco and Pedro Henriquez-Urena. Torres-Rio- seco, in particular, has devoted a great deal of effort to it, for his three volume La novela en la Amirica Hispana (Berkeley, 1939- 1943) and the more recent Grandes novelistas de la Amirica Hispana (Berkeley, 1949) are exhaustive works. The latter con- tains bibliographies of individual novelists. Poetry, unlike drama, has not been a neglected art in the Carib- bean area. This is particularly true in the case of the Latin re- publics. Although there are many Spanish anthologies, attention is here restricted to some of the better English translations. Ex- amples are Thomas Walsh's Spanish Anthology (New York, 1920); the Hispanic Society of America's Translations from His- panic Poets (New York, 1938); Alice Stone Blackwell's Some Latin American Poets-the revised edition, with introduction and notes by Isaac Goldberg (Philadelphia, 1937); and Dudley Fitts' Anthology of Contemporary Latin American Poetry (Norfolk, Conn., 1942). B. Art The painting, sculpture, and architecture of the pre-Colonial period and the Spanish period in Latin American art are tre- mendously impressive and important. The documentation which exists in print for these two periods is greatly in excess of that which is available for the so-called modern period, perhaps be- cause, at least to my unpractised eye, recognition of schools of modern art in the Caribbean area seems to have occurred only within the last twenty to thirty years. A recent major contribution to the bibliography of Latin Ameri- can art is Robert C. Smith and Elizabeth Wilder's A Guide to the Art of Latin America (Washington, D.C., 1948), published by the Hispanic Foundation of the Library of Congress. It is an index of books and articles published prior to 1942 and is classi- fled by subject under country subdivisions. Entries are annotated, and an index makes the information easily accessible. Volume I of the Bibliografia de arte espaniol y americano was  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 247 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 247 published in Madrid in 1942. To the best of my knowledge, sub- published in Madrid in 1942. To the best of my knowledge, sub- sequent volumes have not been issued. The biliography is sequent volumes have not been issued. The biliography is arranged by subjects, including architecture and painting, and sub- arranged by subjects, including architecture and painting, and sub- classified by areas which include Puerto Rico and the island and classified by areas which include Puerto Rico and the island and Central American republics. One reference to the art of Mar- Central American republics. One reference to the art of Mar- tinique was also observed. tinique was also observed. The Pan American Union's Art in Latin America (1950) com- The Pan American Union's Art in Latin America (1950) com- prises sixteen articles on different aspects of art, which are ac- prises sixteen articles on different aspects of art, which are ac- companied by bibliographies. companied by bibliographies. Today the best graphic presentations of contemporary art ob- Today the best graphic presentations of contemporary art ob- jects are the catalogs of the museums which have sponsored ex- jects are the catalogs of the museums which have sponsored ex- hibitions of contemporary Latin American art. Those worthy of hibitions of contemporary Latin American art. Those worthy of special mention are the New York Museum of Modern Art, the special mention are the New York Museum of Modern Art, the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the Brooklyn Museum, the Taylor Philadelphia Museum of Art, the Brooklyn Museum, the Taylor Museum in Colorado, the Palacio de Bellas Artes (Mexico City), Museum in Colorado, the Palacio de Bellas Artes (Mexico City), and the Institute of Jamaica (Kingston). The Metropolitan Mu- and the Institute of Jamaica (Kingston). The Metropolitan Mu- seum of Art Library in New York has also published a volume seum of Art Library in New York has also published a volume entitled Books on Latin America and Its Art in the Metropolitan entitled Books on Latin America and Its Art in the Metropolitan Museum of Art Library. Museum of Art Library. Before leaving the subject of art, it is well to make a func- Before leaving the subject of art, it is well to make a func- tional approach to architecture by considering briefly its modern tional approach to architecture by considering briefly its modern forms in respect to their social implications. Housing and com- forms in respect to their social implications. Housing and com- munity planning are so important today in terms of human better- munity planning are so important today in terms of human better- ment, that it is wise to refer to sources which describe the work ment, that it is wise to refer to sources which describe the work that is progressing in countries of the Caribbean. Excellent refer- that is progressing in countries of the Caribbean. Excellent refer- ences are published by the United Nations and the Pan American ences are published by the United Nations and the Pan American Union-which is affiliated with the Centro Interamericano de Union-which is affiliated with the Centro Interamericano de Vivienda in BogotA. Specific citations of the latter are: Biblio- Vivienda in BogotA. Specific citations of the latter are: Biblio- grafia preliminar, vivienda y planeamiento en Amdrica Latina, grafia preliminar, vivienda y planeamiento en Amirica Latina, and Seminarios regionales de asuntos sociales, which were both and Seminarios regionales de asuntos sociales, which were both published in 1952; and Francis Violich's Low-Cost Housing in published in 1952; and Francis Violich's Luw-Cost Housing in Latin America (1949). The Housing, Town and Country Bulle- Latin America (1949). The Housing, Town and Country Bulle- tin of the United Nations includes excellent bibliographies and tin of the United Nations includes excellent bibliographies and abstracts. abstracts. Two United States periodicals which include bibliographical Two United States periodicals which include bibliographical CULTURAL CONCEPTS 247 published in Madrid in 1942. To the best of my knowledge, sub- sequent volumes have not been issued. The biliography is arranged by subjects, including architecture and painting, and sub- classified by areas which include Puerto Rico and the island and Central American republics. One reference to the art of Mar- tinique was also observed. The Pan American Union's Art in Latin America (1950) com- prises sixteen articles on different aspects of art, which are ac- companied by bibliographies. Today the best graphic presentations of contemporary art ob- jects are the catalogs of the museums which have sponsored ex- hibitions of contemporary Latin American art. Those worthy of special mention are the New York Museum of Modern Art, the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the Brooklyn Museum, the Taylor Museum in Colorado, the Palacio de Bellas Artes (Mexico City), and the Institute of Jamaica (Kingston). The Metropolitan Mu- seum of Art Library in New York has also published a volume entitled Books on Latin America and Its Art in the Metropolitan Museum of Art Library. Before leaving the subject of art, it is well to make a func- tional approach to architecture by considering briefly its modern forms in respect to their social implications. Housing and com- munity planning are so important today in terms of human better- ment, that it is wise to refer to sources which describe the work that is progressing in countries of the Caribbean. Excellent refer- ences are published by the United Nations and the Pan American Union-which is affiliated with the Centro Interamericano de Vivienda in BogotA. Specific citations of the latter are: Biblio- grafia preliminar, vivienda y planeamiento en Amirica Latina, and Seminarios regionales de asuntos sociales, which were both published in 1952; and Francis Violich's Low-Cost Housing in Latin America (1949). The Housing, Town and Country Bulle- tin of the United Nations includes excellent bibliographies and abstracts. Two United States periodicals which include bibliographical  248 The Caribbean materials are Art News and Magazine of Art. The former's "Au- tumn Book Issue," which was first published in September, 1953, carries several long, signed articles and surveys a selection of American and foreign research literature. The latter includes a monthly section devoted to an international selection of new books on art. C. Music The book by Eleanor Hague, entitled Latin American Music, Past and Present (Washington, D.C., 1934), contains text and a bibliography of eleven pages that could serve to provide the reader with historical background. The bibliography is brief, but it would be useful as a jumping-off-place for further research. Lazare Saminsky's Music of Our Day (New York, 1940) would serve the same purpose, but in limited fashion, for it contains one concentrated chapter dealing with Hispanic American music. Although it would be impractical to mention all the superior essays in the Handbook of Latin American Studies which treat of various phases of Latin American culture, one is mentioned be- cause of its excellent representation of nineteenth-century titles. This is Irma Labastille's "The Music of Mexico and Central Amer- ica," published in the 1936 edition. The Division of Music of the Library of Congress published in 1945 A Guide to Latin American Music, compiled by Gilbert Chase. It is an annotated bibliography with introductory com- ments for each country. Otto Mayer-Serra's Musica y mdsicos de Latino-amirica is an alphabetical encyclopaedia published in two volumes in Mexico City in 1947, which includes folklore and religious music. In some cases, full biographies are given for composers. The Pan American Union has contributed a great amount of literature to the subject of Latin American music. Pertinent up- to-date titles are Music of Latin America (3rd ed., 1953); a Par- tial List of Latin American Music Obtainable in the United States (3rd edition, 1948); and Latin American Music Published in 248 The Caribbean materials are Art News and Magazine of Art. The former's "Au- tumn Book Issue," which was first published in September, 1953, carries several long, signed articles and surveys a selection of American and foreign research literature. The latter includes a monthly section devoted to an international selection of new books on art. C. Music The book by Eleanor Hague, entitled Latin American Music, Past and Present (Washington, D.C., 1934), contains text and a bibliography of eleven pages that could serve to provide the reader with historical background. The bibliography is brief, but it would be useful as a jumping-off-place for further research. Lazare Saminsky's Music of Our Day (New York, 1940) would serve the same purpose, but in limited fashion, for it contains one concentrated chapter dealing with Hispanic American music. Although it would be impractical to mention all the superior essays in the Handbook of Latin American Studies which treat of various phases of Latin American culture, one is mentioned be- cause of its excellent representation of nineteenth-century titles. This is Irma Labastille's "The Music of Mexico and Central Amer- ica," published in the 1936 edition. The Division of Music of the Library of Congress published in 1945 A Guide to Latin American Music, compiled by Gilbert Chase. It is an annotated bibliography with introductory com- ments for each country. Otto Mayer-Serra's Mdsica y musicos de Latino-amirica is an alphabetical encyclopaedia published in two volumes in Mexico City in 1947, which includes folklore and religious music. In some cases, full biographies are given for composers. The Pan American Union has contributed a great amount of literature to the subject of Latin American music. Pertinent up- to-date titles are Music of Latin America (3rd ed., 1953); a Par- tial List of Latin American Music Obtainable in the United States (3rd edition, 1948); and Latin American Music Published in 248 The Caribbean materials are Art News and Magazine of Art. The former's "Au- tumn Book Issue," which was first published in September, 1953, carries several long, signed articles and surveys a selection of American and foreign research literature. The latter includes a monthly section devoted to an international selection of new books on art. C. Music The book by Eleanor Hague, entitled Latin American Music, Past and Present (Washington, D.C., 1934), contains text and a bibliography of eleven pages that could serve to provide the reader with historical background. The bibliography is brief, but it would be useful as a jumping-off-place for further research. Lazare Saminsky's Music of Our Day (New York, 1940) would serve the same purpose, but in limited fashion, for it contains one concentrated chapter dealing with Hispanic American music. Although it would be impractical to mention all the superior essays in the Handbook of Latin American Studies which treat of various phases of Latin American culture, one is mentioned be- cause of its excellent representation of nineteenth-century titles. This is Irma Labastille's "The Music of Mexico and Central Amer- ica," published in the 1936 edition. The Division of Music of the Library of Congress published in 1945 A Guide to Latin American Music, compiled by Gilbert Chase. It is an annotated bibliography with introductory com- ments for each country. Otto Mayer-Serra's Mdsica y mdsicos de Latino-amirica is an alphabetical encyclopaedia published in two volumes in Mexico City in 1947, which includes folklore and religious music. In some cases, full biographies are given for composers. The Pan American Union has contributed a great amount of literature to the subject of Latin American music. Pertinent up- to-date titles are Music of Latin America (3rd ed., 1953); a Par- tial List of Latin American Music Obtainable in the United States (3rd edition, 1948); and Latin American Music Published in  CULTURAL CONCEPTS L41J Connection with the Editorial Project of the Music Division of the Pan American Union in Cooperation with the Music Edu- cators National Conference (1942). The year 1950 was notable for the initial appearance of the Boletin de Mrsica y Artes Visuales, which gave for the first time a fairly comprehensive picture of current musical activity in the New World. Their Musical Di- rectory of Latin America also deserves mention, for it is a source of information concerning cultural institutions. My references to folk music, which some may feel do not belong in a study supposedly limited to contemporary culture and which only arbitrarily can be classified separately from other types of indigenous music, are either Pan American Union or Library of Congress citations, with the exception of Ralph Steele Boggs' Bibliography of Latin American Folklore, published by H. W. Wilson in 1940, as Volume 5 of Series I of the Inter-American Bibliographical and Library Association publications; and Folklore Americas issued by the Society of that same name from 1941 to 1947 at Chapel Hill, N. C. The former includes 643 numbered items published as a partial guide to the field. It is classified by types of folklore and it is arranged by country. Also, it is to be noted that the Handbook of Latin American Studies, beginning with the 1946 edition, excluded items already included in the folklore bibliography prepared annually by Mr. Boggs and usually published in the March number of the Southern Folklore Quarter- ly of each succeeding year. The Division of Music of the Library of Congress published a Bibliography of Latin American Folk Music, compiled by Gilbert Chase in 1942. Eleven hundred and forty-three items are ar- ranged under country, and an index of authors is included. The most comprehensive work of the Division of Music is Folk Music of the United States and Latin America, published in 1948. It is based on the Archive of American Folk Song, which was established in 1928 and which is now part of the Folklore Section of the Library of Congress. It is a record collection which includes over 10,000 recordings, with over 40,000 different songs and CULTURAL CONCEPTS 249 Connection with the Editorial Project of the Music Division of the Pan American Union in Cooperation with the Music Edu- cators National Conference (1942). The year 1950 was notable for the initial appearance of the Boletin de Musica y Artes Visuales, which gave for the first time a fairly comprehensive picture of current musical activity in the New World. Their Musical Di- rectory of Latin America also deserves mention, for it is a source of information concerning cultural institutions. My references to folk music, which some may feel do not belong in a study supposedly limited to contemporary culture and which only arbitrarily can be classified separately from other types of indigenous music, are either Pan American Union or Library of Congress citations, with the exception of Ralph Steele Boggs' Bibliography of Latin American Folklore, published by H. W. Wilson in 1940, as Volume 5 of Series I of the Inter-American Bibliographical and Library Association publications; and Folklore Americas issued by the Society of that same name from 1941 to 1947 at Chapel Hill, N. C. The former includes 643 numbered items published as a partial guide to the field. It is classified by types of folklore and it is arranged by country. Also, it is to be noted that the Handbook of Latin American Studies, beginning with the 1946 edition, excluded items already included in the folklore bibliography prepared annually by Mr. Boggs and usually published in the March number of the Southern Folklore Quarter- ly of each succeeding year. The Division of Music of the Library of Congress published a Bibliography of Latin American Folk Music, compiled by Gilbert Chase in 1942. Eleven hundred and forty-three items are ar- ranged under country, and an index of authors is included. The most comprehensive work of the Division of Music is Folk Music of the United States and Latin America, published in 1948. It is based on the Archive of American Folk Song, which was established in 1928 and which is now part of the Folklore Section of the Library of Congress. It is a record collection which includes over 10,000 recordings, with over 40,000 different songs and CULTURAL CONCEPTS 249 Connection with the Editorial Project of the Music Division of the Pan American Union in Cooperation with the Music Edu- cators National Conference (1942). The year 1950 was notable for the initial appearance of the Boletin de Musica y Artes Visuales, which gave for the first time a fairly comprehensive picture of current musical activity in the New World. Their Musical Di- rectory of Latin America also deserves mention, for it is a source of information concerning cultural institutions. My references to folk music, which some may feel do not belong in a study supposedly limited to contemporary culture and which only arbitrarily can be classified separately from other types of indigenous music, are either Pan American Union or Library of Congress citations, with the exception of Ralph Steele Boggs' Bibliography of Latin American Folklore, published by H. W. Wilson in 1940, as Volume 5 of Series I of the Inter-American Bibliographical and Library Association publications; and Folklore Americas issued by the Society of that same name from 1941 to 1947 at Chapel Hill, N. C. The former includes 643 numbered items published as a partial guide to the field. It is classified by types of folklore and it is arranged by country. Also, it is to be noted that the Handbook of Latin American Studies, beginning with the 1946 edition, excluded items already included in the folklore bibliography prepared annually by Mr. Boggs and usually published in the March number of the Southern Folklore Quarter- ly of each succeeding year. The Division of Music of the Library of Congress published a Bibliography of Latin American Folk Music, compiled by Gilbert Chase in 1942. Eleven hundred and forty-three items are ar- ranged under country, and an index of authors is included. The most comprehensive work of the Division of Music is Folk Music of the United States and Latin America, published in 1948. It is based on the Archive of American Folk Song, which was established in 1928 and which is now part of the Folklore Section of the Library of Congress. It is a record collection which includes over 10,000 recordings, with over 40,000 different songs and  250 The Caribbean ballads and other native American folk music. The Archive houses folk music from many Latin American countries. Gustavo Duran has compiled Recordings of Latin American Song and Dances for the Division of Music and Visual Arts of the Pan American Union. The second edition was published in 1950. It is an annotated and selective list of popular and folk music. He has also contributed a section entitled "Latin Ameri- can Dances . . . An Annotated, Selected List of Popular and Folk Music" to the Latin American Song Book; a Varied and Comprehensive Collection of Latin American Songs (Boston, 1942). Choral Arrangements of Latin American Folk Songs, by Luis Sandi (1954), and Folk Songs and Dances of the Americas (1949) are other recent Pan American Union titles. 3. Caribbean Island and Central American Republics The national bibliography is the primary guide to all other printed sources of information concerning a country. These have been issued at one time or another for all the Caribbean republics, but in no one country has genuinely national bibliography per- sisted continuously for a period of a decade, and the intervals of intermittent lapses have been, with few exceptions, longer than the periods of existence. National bibliographical groups comprise the best means of combating the problem of hibernating national bibliographies, for these provide the permanent organization that is necessary to regular and consecutive projects. Efforts to create these groups are progressing under the guidance of the Bibliography and Docu- mentation Centre of Unesco. In the Caribbean area, Cuba has the most active group but Mexico's is beginning to do good work. Panama and Haiti have nuclei, but results are not yet evident. The Seminar to be convened in Havana by the Asociacion Bibliografica Jose Toribio Medina in conjunction with Unesco in July, 1955, will include on its agenda consideration of the possi- bilities of compiling cooperatively a retrospective and current bib- liography of bibliographies of Central America and the Caribbean 250 The Caribbean ballads and other native American folk music. The Archive houses folk music from many Latin American countries. Gustavo Duran has compiled Recordings of Latin American Song and Dances for the Division of Music and Visual Arts of the Pan American Union. The second edition was published in 1950. It is an annotated and selective list of popular and folk music. He has also contributed a section entitled "Latin Ameri- can Dances . . . An Annotated, Selected List of Popular and Folk Music" to the Latin American Song Book; a Varied and Comprehensive Collection of Latin American Songs (Boston, 1942). Choral Arrangements of Latin American Folk Songs, by Luis Sandi (1954), and Folk Songs and Dances of the Americas (1949) are other recent Pan American Union titles. 3. Caribbean Island and Central American Republics The national bibliography is the primary guide to all other printed sources of information concerning a country. These have been issued at one time or another for all the Caribbean republics, but in no one country has genuinely national bibliography per- sisted continuously for a period of a decade, and the intervals of intermittent lapses have been, with few exceptions, longer than the periods of existence. National bibliographical groups comprise the best means of combating the problem of hibernating national bibliographies, for these provide the permanent organization that is necessary to regular and consecutive projects. Efforts to create these groups are progressing under the guidance of the Bibliography and Docu- mentation Centre of Unesco. In the Caribbean area, Cuba has the most active group but Mexico's is beginning to do good work. Panama and Haiti have nuclei, but results are not yet evident. The Seminar to be convened in Havana by the Asociacion BibliogrAfica Jose Toribio Medina in conjunction with Unesco in July, 1955, will include on its agenda consideration of the possi- bilities of compiling cooperatively a retrospective and current bib- liography of bibliographies of Central America and the Caribbean 250 The Caribbean ballads and other native American folk music. The Archive houses folk music from many Latin American countries. Gustavo Durin has compiled Recordings of Latin American Song and Dances for the Division of Music and Visual Arts of the Pan American Union. The second edition was published in 1950. It is an annotated and selective list of popular and folk music. He has also contributed a section entitled "Latin Ameri- can Dances . . . An Annotated, Selected List of Popular and Folk Music" to the Latin American Song Book; a Varied and Comprehensive Collection of Latin American Songs (Boston, 1942). Choral Arrangements of Latin American Folk Songs, by Luis Sandi (1954), and Folk Songs and Dances of the Americas (1949) are other recent Pan American Union titles. 3. Caribbean Island and Central American Republics The national bibliography is the primary guide to all other printed sources of information concerning a country. These have been issued at one time or another for all the Caribbean republics, but in no one country has genuinely national bibliography per- sisted continuously for a period of a decade, and the intervals of intermittent lapses have been, with few exceptions, longer than the periods of existence. National bibliographical groups comprise the best means of combating the problem of hibernating national bibliographies, for these provide the permanent organization that is necessary to regular and consecutive projects. Efforts to create these groups are progressing under the guidance of the Bibliography and Docu- mentation Centre of Unesco. In the Caribbean area, Cuba has the most active group but Mexico's is beginning to do good work. Panama and Haiti have nuclei, but results are not yet evident. The Seminar to be convened in Havana by the Asociacion Bibliogrdfica Jose Toribio Medina in conjunction with Unesco in July, 1955, will include on its agenda consideration of the possi- bilities of compiling cooperatively a retrospective and current bib- liography of bibliographies of Central America and the Caribbean  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 251 republics. The countries which are listed in the preliminary agenda as participants of the "Cooperacidn Bibliografica Centro- americana," the designation of the proposed project, are Panama, Costa Rica, Honduras, Nicaragua, El Salvador, Guatemala, Haiti, the Dominican Republic, Cuba, and Puerto Rico. This united effort may provide the spark which will stimulate the organization of strong and active bibliographical groups in all the participating countries. The summary of national bibliographical records in the follow- ing pages is not complete, for although I had access to primary sources, I could not by direct inquiry endeavour to determine the present status of each national list. However, current data on national bibliographies are to be issued in a forthcoming 1955 issue of the Library of Congress Quarterly Journal of Current Acquisitions. This should bring the record completely up to date. Mexico The scope of culture in Mexico is tremendous. This applies to the pre-Columbian era, the post-Columbian era, and modern times. The subject of contemporary culture alone is so vast that one could not give it even superficial treatment without being an authority on many subjects. I can only risk a single statement of opinion, which is that Mexico's great contribution to cultural forms in the past and the present has been in the fine arts and the graphic arts, and that its influence abroad in these media has been greater than that of any other American nation. The bibliography of Mexican culture is prolific but quite piece- meal and disorganized. It is possible to find references to "nation- al" current bibliographies, but it is difficult to trace them from their starting point. One gets the idea that bibliographic effort in Mexico itself has not been persistent. Volumes I through III of the Anuario Bibliogrdfico Mexicano (Mexico, D.F.) for 1931-1933 were published between 1932 and 1934. It was not published for the years 1934 through 1939, and I have no citations for 1940. My last reference is to CULTURAL CONCEPTS 251 republics. The countries which are listed in the preliminary agenda as participants of the "Cooperacidon Bibliografica Centro- americana," the designation of the proposed project, are Panama, Costa Rica, Honduras, Nicaragua, El Salvador, Guatemala, Haiti, the Dominican Republic, Cuba, and Puerto Rico. This united effort may provide the spark which will stimulate the organization of strong and active bibliographical groups in all the participating countries. The summary of national bibliographical records in the follow- ing pages is not complete, for although I had access to primary sources, I could not by direct inquiry endeavour to determine the present status of each national list. However, current data on national bibliographies are to be issued in a forthcoming 1955 issue of the Library of Congress Quarterly Journal of Current Acquisitions. This should bring the record completely up to date. Mexico The scope of culture in Mexico is tremendous. This applies to the pre-Columbian era, the post-Columbian era, and modern times. The subject of contemporary culture alone is so vast that one could not give it even superficial treatment without being an authority on many subjects. I can only risk a single statement of opinion, which is that Mexico's great contribution to cultural forms in the past and the present has been in the fine arts and the graphic arts, and that its influence abroad in these media has been greater than that of any other American nation. The bibliography of Mexican culture is prolific but quite piece- meal and disorganized. It is possible to find references to "nation- al" current bibliographies, but it is difficult to trace them from their starting point. One gets the idea that bibliographic effort in Mexico itself has not been persistent. Volumes I through III of the Anuario Bibliogrdico Mexicano (Mxico, D.F.) for 1931-1933 were published between 1932 and 1934. It was not published for the years 1934 through 1939, and I have no citations for 1940. My last reference is to CULTURAL CONCEPTS 251 republics. The countries which are listed in the preliminary agenda as participants of the "Cooperacidn Bibliogrdfica Centro- americana," the designation of the proposed project, are Panama, Costa Rica, Honduras, Nicaragua, El Salvador, Guatemala, Haiti, the Dominican Republic, Cuba, and Puerto Rico. This united effort may provide the spark which will stimulate the organization of strong and active bibliographical groups in all the participating countries. The summary of national bibliographical records in the follow- ing pages is not complete, for although I had access to primary sources, I could not by direct inquiry endeavour to determine the present status of each national list. However, current data on national bibliographies are to be issued in a forthcoming 1955 issue of the Library of Congress Quarterly Journal of Current Acquisitions. This should bring the record completely up to date. Mexico The scope of culture in Mexico is tremendous. This applies to the pre-Columbian era, the post-Columbian era, and modern times. The subject of contemporary culture alone is so vast that one could not give it even superficial treatment without being an authority on many subjects. I can only risk a single statement of opinion, which is that Mexico's great contribution to cultural forms in the past and the present has been in the fine arts and the graphic arts, and that its influence abroad in these media has been greater than that of any other American nation. The bibliography of Mexican culture is prolific but quite piece- meal and disorganized. It is possible to find references to "nation- al" current bibliographies, but it is difficult to trace them from their starting point. One gets the idea that bibliographic effort in Mexico itself has not been persistent. Volumes I through III of the Anuario Bibliogrdfico Mexicano (Mexico, D.F.) for 1931-1933 were published between 1932 and 1934. It was not published for the years 1934 through 1939, and I have no citations for 1940. My last reference is to  252 The Caribbean the 1941 and 1942 issues. The Anuario Bibliogrdfico Mexicano was based upon the copyright accessions of the National Library and issued by the Secretaria de Relaciones Exteriores. The Boletin Bibliogrdfico Mexicano (Mexico, D.F.) is a review of books and pamphlets and was published in Mexico as a monthly from October, 1939, until 1947. It has been published since 1947 as a bimonthly, but whether regularly or not, I do not know. For the Registro Bibliogrdico (Mixico, D.F.), published by the Faculty of Philosophy and Letters of the National Institute of Mexico, there is an open entry dating from 1940. It was initi- ated as an index to periodicals in special fields of which literature was one. Other bibliographic citations which I have collected from the field of literature are two by Arturo Torres-Rioseco. These are: Bibliografia de la novela mejicana (Cambridge, Mass., 1933) and Bibliografia de la poesia mejicana (Cambridge, Mass., 1934). The latter, which was compiled in conjunction with Ralph E. Warner, contains a critical introduction by Mr. Torres- Rioseco which is inspiring. In the immensely important field of the fine arts, there are anthologies, biographies, and periodicals which fill bibliographic purposes. They are extremely fertile sources of discourse on artistic form and expression, and the work of individual artists. The paint- ings of Diego Rivera and Jose Clemente Orozco are exhaustively dealt with in publications of one type or another, for both men are pre-eminent in the minds of those who are susceptible to the in- fluence of fashion in their admiration for artists. Others, however, have moved into the inner circle with them to share the apprecia- tion of those who are sensitive to creativeness in graphic form. Periodicals such as Cuadernos Americanos (Mexico, D.F.) and Arte en el Mexico (Mexico, D.F.) achieve a balance in their editorial consideration of men, movements, and schools. Innum- erable books have been published, dealing with the subject of art in Mexico throughout its long and glorious history. Printing and book design have reached a level in Mexico that is equalled or surpassed only in European countries and in the 252 The Caribbean the 1941 and 1942 issues. The Anuario Bibliogrdjico Mexicano was based upon the copyright accessions of the National Library and issued by the Secretaria de Relaciones Exteriores. The Boletin Bibliogrdfco Mexicano (Mexico, D.F.) is a review of books and pamphlets and was published in Mexico as a monthly from October, 1939, until 1947. It has been published since 1947 as a bimonthly, but whether regularly or not, I do not know. For the Registro Bibliogrdfco (Mixico, D.F.), published by the Faculty of Philosophy and Letters of the National Institute of Mexico, there is an open entry dating from 1940. It was initi- ated as an index to periodicals in special fields of which literature was one. Other bibliographic citations which I have collected from the field of literature are two by Arturo Torres-Rioseco. These are: Bibliografia de la novela mejicana (Cambridge, Mass., 1933) and Bibliografia de la poesia mejicana (Cambridge, Mass., 1934). The latter, which was compiled in conjunction with Ralph E. Warner, contains a critical introduction by Mr. Torres- Rioseco which is inspiring. In the immensely important field of the fine arts, there are anthologies, biographies, and periodicals which fill bibliographic purposes. They are extremely fertile sources of discourse on artistic form and expression, and the work of individual artists. The paint- ings of Diego Rivera and Jos6 Clemente Orozco are exhaustively dealt with in publications of one type or another, for both men are pre-eminent in the minds of those who are susceptible to the in- fluence of fashion in their admiration for artists. Others, however, have moved into the inner circle with them to share the apprecia- tion of those who are sensitive to creativeness in graphic form. Periodicals such as Cuadernos Americanos (Mexico, D.F.) and Arte en el Mexico (Mexico, D.F.) achieve a balance in their editorial consideration of men, movements, and schools. Innum- erable books have been published, dealing with the subject of art in Mexico throughout its long and glorious history. Printing and book design have reached a level in Mexico that is equalled or surpassed only in European countries and in the 252 The Caribbean the 1941 and 1942 issues. The Anuario Bibliogrdfico Mexicano was based upon the copyright accessions of the National Library and issued by the Secretaria de Relaciones Exteriores. The Boletin Bibliogrdico Mexicano (Mexico, D.F.) is a review of books and pamphlets and was published in Mexico as a monthly from October, 1939, until 1947. It has been published since 1947 as a bimonthly, but whether regularly or not, I do not know. For the Registro Bibliogrdfico (Mixico, D.F.), published by the Faculty of Philosophy and Letters of the National Institute of Mexico, there is an open entry dating from 1940. It was initi- ated as an index to periodicals in special fields of which literature was one. Other bibliographic citations which I have collected from the field of literature are two by Arturo Torres-Rioseco. These are: Bibliografia de la novela mejicana (Cambridge, Mass., 1933) and Bibliografia de la poesia mejicana (Cambridge, Mass., 1934). The latter, which was compiled in conjunction with Ralph E. Warner, contains a critical introduction by Mr. Torres- Rioseco which is inspiring. In the immensely important field of the fine arts, there are anthologies, biographies, and periodicals which fill bibliographic purposes. They are extremely fertile sources of discourse on artistic form and expression, and the work of individual artists. The paint- ings of Diego Rivera and Jose Clemente Orozco are exhaustively dealt with in publications of one type or another, for both men are pre-eminent in the minds of those who are susceptible to the in- fluence of fashion in their admiration for artists. Others, however, have moved into the inner circle with them to share the apprecia- tion of those who are sensitive to creativeness in graphic form. Periodicals such as Coadernos Americanos (Mdxico, D.F.) and Arte en el Mdxico (Mexico, D.F.) achieve a balance in their editorial consideration of men, movements, and schools. Innum- erable books have been published, dealing with the subject of art in Mexico throughout its long and glorious history. Printing and book design have reached a level in Mexico that is equalled or surpassed only in European countries and in the  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 253 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 253 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 253 United States, and the highest attainments in both crafts have been manifested in books on the fine arts. There are many pub- lishing houses which share credit for this development, but the leading one is clearly the Fondo de Cultura Economica. Its pub- lishing list is impressive and its catalogues are guides to subject matter on the culture of Mexico and many other Latin American countries. I prefer to treat the subject of architecture separately and briefly. Since the beginning of the present century, South and Central American architects have developed styles which, on the one hand, have historical foundations in the work of the Maya and the Aztec, and, on the other, have been dictated by function. There are more books concerning the architecture of Mexico than there are about the architecture of other Caribbean countries. Although this does not prove that Mexican styles are more revolu- tionary or based on sounder principles, it does serve the purpose of bibliography. Two monographs which are particularly well il- lustrated are Carlos Obreg6n Santacilia's Cincuenta aios de arqui- tectura (Mexico, D.F., 1952) and Mexico's Modern Architecture (New York, 1952) by Irving E. Myers in cooperation with the National Institute of Fine Arts of Mexico. I must leave the subject of music, which seems to me to be the least dynamic of modern culture forms, to references which have been cited in the section on Special Subject Bibliographies and in such works of wide coverage as the Handbook of Latin American Studies and the Review of Inter-American Bibliography. Central America Although it is certainly true that all the Central American coun- tries have become alive to the importance of bibliographies to re- search, this may be better demonstrated in the fields of agriculture and economics than it is in those of arts, literature, and music, for those related to the culture of the Central American republics comprise a few "national" efforts and fewer literary bibliographies. United States, and the highest attainments in both crafts have been manifested in books on the fine arts. There are many pub- lishing houses which share credit for this development, but the leading one is clearly the Fondo de Cultura Econmica. Its pub- lishing list is impressive and its catalogues are guides to subject matter on the culture of Mexico and many other Latin American countries. I prefer to treat the subject of architecture separately and briefly. Since the beginning of the present century, South and Central American architects have developed styles which, on the one hand, have historical foundations in the work of the Maya and the Aztec, and, on the other, have been dictated by function. There are more books concerning the architecture of Mexico than there are about the architecture of other Caribbean countries. Although this does not prove that Mexican styles are more revolu- tionary or based on sounder principles, it does serve the purpose of bibliography. Two monographs which are particularly well il- lustrated are Carlos Obreg6n Santacilia's Cincuenta atnos de arqui- tectura (Mxico, D.F., 1952) and Mexico's Modern Architecture (New York, 1952) by Irving E. Myers in cooperation with the National Institute of Fine Arts of Mexico. I must leave the subject of music, which seems to me to be the least dynamic of modern culture forms, to references which have been cited in the section on Special Subject Bibliographies and in such works of wide coverage as the Handbook of Latin American Studies and the Review of Inter-American Bibliography. Central America Although it is certainly true that all the Central American coun- tries have become alive to the importance of bibliographies to re- search, this may be better demonstrated in the fields of agriculture and economics than it is in those of arts, literature, and music, for those related to the culture of the Central American republics comprise a few "national" efforts and fewer literary bibliographies. United States, and the highest attainments in both crafts have been manifested in books on the fine arts. There are many pub- lishing houses which share credit for this development, but the leading one is clearly the Fondo de Cultura Econmica. Its pub- lishing list is impressive and its catalogues are guides to subject matter on the culture of Mexico and many other Latin American countries. I prefer to treat the subject of architecture separately and briefly. Since the beginning of the present century, South and Central American architects have developed styles which, on the one hand, have historical foundations in the work of the Maya and the Aztec, and, on the other, have been dictated by function. There are more books concerning the architecture of Mexico than there are about the architecture of other Caribbean countries. Although this does not prove that Mexican styles are more revolu- tionary or based on sounder principles, it does serve the purpose of bibliography. Two monographs which are particularly well il- lustrated are Carlos Obreg6n Santacilia's Cincuenta anos de arqui- teetura (Mexico, D.F., 1952) and Mexico's Modern Architecture (New York, 1952) by Irving E. Myers in cooperation with the National Institute of Fine Arts of Mexico. I must leave the subject of music, which seems to me to be the least dynamic of modern culture forms, to references which have been cited in the section on Special Subject Bibliographies and in such works of wide coverage as the Handbook of Latin American Studies and the Review of Inter-American Bibliography. Central America Although it is certainly true that all the Central American coun- tries have become alive to the importance of bibliographies to re- search, this may be better demonstrated in the fields of agriculture and economics than it is in those of arts, literature, and music, for those related to the culture of the Central American republics comprise a few "national" efforts and fewer literary bibliographies.  254 The Caribbean 254 The Caribbean 254 The Caribbean Luis Dobles Segrada's Indice Bibliogrdfico de Costa Rica (San Jos6) is a nine-volume set covering the ten-year period from 1927 through 1936. Volume 4 of this work has sections on the novel, the literary essay, and the theatre. The Boletin Bibliogrdfico was published annually by the Na- tional Library in San Jose from 1935 through 1938, and was revived in 1946. The current issue is the 1952 annual, which was published in 1954. It comprises lists in alphabetical order by author or main entry of (1) books and pamphlets published during the year; (2) official serials and other government issues; (3) magazines and newspapers; and (4) publications of previous years received by the National Library. Rogalio Sotela compiled Escritores de Costa Rica (San Jose), which was published in 1942. It is an anthology of prose and poetry. The Catdlogo General de Libros, Folletos y Revistas Editados en la Tipografia Nacional de Guatemala (Guatemala City) covers the years 1892 to 1943. It includes full bibliographic informa- tion, is arranged by year, but has no comprehensive index. As it is limited to the publication of one press, its value as a com- prehensive bibliography of Guatemalan publications is obviously impaired. The Boletin Bibliogrdfico Mexicano (Mexico, D.F.) is a review was issued irregularly from 1932 to 1949, listed Guatemalan publications received by the Library. It was superseded by the Indice Bibliogrdfico Guatemalteco (Guatemala City), which was published first in 1953 for the year 1951. As the National Library is the legal depository for all locally issued publications and as a vigorous effort toward the production of a national bib- liography is being made, high hopes for its continued existence are held out. The 1952 annual, which was due in 1954, has not to the best of my knowledge yet been produced. The national bibliographical efforts in El Salvador have been based on the periodical Anaqueles; Revista de la Biblioteca Na- cional (San Salvador), a bibliographical and literary review de- Luis Dobles Segrada's Indice Bibliogrdfico de Costa Rica (San Jose) is a nine-volume set covering the ten-year period from 1927 through 1936. Volume 4 of this work has sections on the novel, the literary essay, and the theatre. The Boletin Bibliogrdfico was published annually by the Na- tional Library in San Jose from 1935 through 1938, and was revived in 1946. The current issue is the 1952 annual, which was published in 1954. It comprises lists in alphabetical order by author or main entry of (1) books and pamphlets published during the year; (2) official serials and other government issues; (3) magazines and newspapers; and (4) publications of previous years received by the National Library. Rogalio Sotela compiled Escritores de Costa Rica (San Jos6), which was published in 1942. It is an anthology of prose and poetry. The Catdlogo General de Libros, Folletos y Revistas Editados en la Tipografia Nacional de Guatemala (Guatemala City) covers the years 1892 to 1943. It includes full bibliographic informa- tion, is arranged by year, but has no comprehensive index. As it is limited to the publication of one press, its value as a com- prehensive bibliography of Guatemalan publications is obviously impaired. The Boletn Bibliogrdfico Mexicano (Mexico, D.F.) is a review was issued irregularly from 1932 to 1949, listed Guatemalan publications received by the Library. It was superseded by the Indice Bibliogrdfico Guatemalteco (Guatemala City), which was published first in 1953 for the year 1951. As the National Library is the legal depository for all locally issued publications and as a vigorous effort toward the production of a national bib- liography is being made, high hopes for its continued existence are held out. The 1952 annual, which was due in 1954, has not to the best of my knowledge yet been produced. The national bibliographical efforts in El Salvador have been based on the periodical Anaqueles; Revista de la Biblioteca Na- cional (San Salvador), a bibliographical and literary review de- Luis Dobles Segrada's Indice Bibliogrdfico de Costa Rica (San Jos6) is a nine-volume set covering the ten-year period from 1927 through 1936. Volume 4 of this work has sections on the novel, the literary essay, and the theatre. The Boletin Bibliogrdfico was published annually by the Na- tional Library in San Jose from 1935 through 1938, and was revived in 1946. The current issue is the 1952 annual, which was published in 1954. It comprises lists in alphabetical order by author or main entry of (1) books and pamphlets published during the year; (2) official serials and other government issues; (3) magazines and newspapers; and (4) publications of previous years received by the National Library. Rogalio Sotela compiled Escritores de Costa Rica (San Jos6), which was published in 1942. It is an anthology of prose and poetry. The Catdlogo General de Libros, Folletos y Revistas Editados en la Tipografia Nacional de Guatemala (Guatemala City) covers the years 1892 to 1943. It includes full bibliographic informa- tion, is arranged by year, but has no comprehensive index. As it is limited to the publication of one press, its value as a com- prehensive bibliography of Guatemalan publications is obviously impaired. The Boletin Bibliogrdfico Mexicano (Mexico, D.F.) is a review was issued irregularly from 1932 to 1949, listed Guatemalan publications received by the Library. It was superseded by the Indice Bibliogrdfico Guatemalteco (Guatemala City), which was published first in 1953 for the year 1951. As the National Library is the legal depository for all locally issued publications and as a vigorous effort toward the production of a national bib- liography is being made, high hopes for its continued existence are held out. The 1952 annual, which was due in 1954, has not to the best of my knowledge yet been produced. The national bibliographical efforts in El Salvador have been based on the periodical Anaqueles; Revista de la Biblioteca Na- cional (San Salvador), a bibliographical and literary review de-  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 255 voted to the culture of El Salvador and Latin America in general. Each issue contains a short section titled "Bibliografia salvado- reia," which is a listing of monographs actually printed in the country for a specified year. For instance, the issue of "6poca" IV, no. 2 (May/August, 1948) included the record of imprints of El Salvador for 1947; and the issue of "epoca" V, no. 3 (May, 1952/April, 1953) the record for the year 1951. The Library of Congress has recently received from the Na- tional Library a processed copy of a 430-page compilation en- titled Bibliografia salvadorena; lista preliminar por autores (San Salvador, 1953). It is referred to as a pioneering effort, but is very probably based to some extent on the lists that appeared previously in Anaqueles. The Repertorio bibliografico hondureno (Tegucigalpa), com- piled by Jorge Fidel Duron for the Instituto Hondureno de Cul- tura Interamericana, is a preliminary edition (1943) of an aspiring national bibliography. Its section IV is a list of books published in Honduras covering all periods, and section V is an index to authors. The same compiler's Indice de la bibliografia hondurena (Tegucigalpa), published in 1943, is a later attempt to list all works issued in Honduras. The two works of the Biblioteca Americana de Nicaragua are Bibliografia de libros y folletos publicados en Nicaragua (Mana- gua, 1945) and Bibliografia de trabajos publicados en Nicaragua (Managua, 1944). The first citation includes entries with dates of publications of 1942 or later. The latter was originally planned as an annual serial initiated for the year 1944, but I do not know whether it has been continued under the new regime of local authority, for the Biblioteca Americana de Nicaragua has been handed over to the government of Nicaragua by the United States Department of State. The solitary index which I was able to locate for the Republic of Panama is Henry Grattan Doyle's A Tentative Bibliography of the Belles-Lettres of Panama (Cambridge, Mass., 1934). This is a volume of the Harvard Council on Hispano-American Studies. CULTURAL CONCEPTS 255 voted to the culture of El Salvador and Latin America in general. Each issue contains a short section titled "Bibliografia salvado- reia," which is a listing of monographs actually printed in the country for a specified year. For instance, the issue of "6poca" IV, no. 2 (May/August, 1948) included the record of imprints of El Salvador for 1947; and the issue of "6poca" V, no. 3 (May, 1952/April, 1953) the record for the year 1951. The Library of Congress has recently received from the Na- tional Library a processed copy of a 430-page compilation en- titled Bibliografia salvadorena; lista preliminar por autores (San Salvador, 1953). It is referred to as a pioneering effort, but is very probably based to some extent on the lists that appeared previously in Anaqueles. The Repertorio bibliogrdfico hondureno (Tegucigalpa), com- piled by Jorge Fidel Duron for the Instituto Hondureio de Cul- tura Interamericana, is a preliminary edition (1943) of an aspiring national bibliography. Its section IV is a list of books published in Honduras covering all periods, and section V is an index to authors. The same compiler's Indite de la bibliografia hondurena (Tegucigalpa), published in 1943, is a later attempt to list all works issued in Honduras. The two works of the Biblioteca Americana de Nicaragua are Bibliografia de libros y folletos publicados en Nicaragua (Mana- gua, 1945) and Bibliografia de trabajos publicados en Nicaragua (Managua, 1944). The first citation includes entries with dates of publications of 1942 or later. The latter was originally planned as an annual serial initiated for the year 1944, but I do not know whether it has been continued under the new regime of local authority, for the Biblioteca Americana de Nicaragua has been handed over to the government of Nicaragua by the United States Department of State. The solitary index which I was able to locate for the Republic of Panama is Henry Grattan Doyle's A Tentative Bibliography of the Belles-Lettres of Panama (Cambridge, Mass., 1934). This is a volume of the Harvard Council on Hispano-American Studies. CULTURAL CONCEPTS 255 voted to the culture of El Salvador and Latin America in general. Each issue contains a short section titled "Bibliografia salvado- rena," which is a listing of monographs actually printed in the country for a specified year. For instance, the issue of "epoca" IV, no. 2 (May/August, 1948) included the record of imprints of El Salvador for 1947; and the issue of "6poca" V, no. 3 (May, 1952/April, 1953) the record for the year 1951. The Library of Congress has recently received from the Na- tional Library a processed copy of a 430-page compilation en- titled Bibliografia salvadorena; ista preliminar por autores (San Salvador, 1953). It is referred to as a pioneering effort, but is very probably based to some extent on the lists that appeared previously in Anaqueles. The Repertorio bibliogrdfico hondureno (Tegucigalpa), com- piled by Jorge Fidel Dur6n for the Instituto Hondureio de Cul- tura Interamericana, is a preliminary edition (1943) of an aspiring national bibliography. Its section IV is a list of books published in Honduras covering all periods, and section V is an index to authors. The same compiler's Indicte de la bibliografia hondurena (Tegucigalpa), published in 1943, is a later attempt to list all works issued in Honduras. The two works of the Biblioteca Americana de Nicaragua are Bibliografia de libros y folletos publicados en Nicaragua (Mana- gua, 1945) and Bibliografia de trabajos publicados en Nicaragua (Managua, 1944). The first citation includes entries with dates of publications of 1942 or later. The latter was originally planned as an annual serial initiated for the year 1944, but I do not know whether it has been continued under the new regime of local authority, for the Biblioteca Americana de Nicaragua has been handed over to the government of Nicaragua by the United States Department of State. The solitary index which I was able to locate for the Republic of Panama is Henry Grattan Doyle's A Tentative Bibliography of the Belles-Lettres of Panama (Cambridge, Mass., 1934). This is a volume of the Harvard Council on Hispano-American Studies.  256 The Caribbean 4. Island Republics The bibliography of the island republics is more extensive than that of the Central American republics. In this case, culture may be a corollary of history, for in all three countries, and especially in Cuba and Haiti, the revolutionary tradition has been strong. Cuba A bibliography of Cuba for the years 1900 through 1916 has been provided by Carlos Manuel Trelles y Govin. It is called the Bibliografia Cubana de Siglo XX, and includes references to for- eign sources and periodical articles. Its title would lead one to ex- pect continuations, but only in such subjects as geography, history, and science have these occurred. The Anuario Bibliograico Cubano (Havana), which covers the years 1937 to and including 1953, has been a project of one man since its initial appearance in 1938. He is Fermin Peraza y Sa- rausa, who edits, publishes, and distributes it. The latest edition consists of a combined author and subject list, an addenda of publications of previous years, and an analytical index. The following works all have bibliographies of varying degrees of completeness. I am citing these not because they contain the most balanced lists that can be found, but because they punctuate salient features of Cuban culture. It is to be noted, particularly as an index of the relative importance of cultural manifestations, that both Jose Marti and Afro-Cuban music are represented in this list: Verez de Peraza, Elena Luisa. Publicaciones de las instituciones culturales cubanas. (IHa- vana, 1949.) Rodriguez Exp6sito, Cdsar, and Lilia Castro de Morales (eds.). Los mejores libros cubanos de 1900 a 1950. (Havana, 1952.) Remos y Rubio, Juan Nepomuceno Jose. . Historia de la literatura cubana. (fHavana, 1945.) Peraza y Sarausa, Fermin. Bibliografia martiana. (Havana, 1950.) 256 4. Island Republics The Caribbean 256 4. Island Republics The Caribbean The bibliography of the island republics is more extensive than that of the Central American republics. In this case, culture may be a corollary of history, for in all three countries, and especially in Cuba and Haiti, the revolutionary tradition has been strong. Cuba A bibliography of Cuba for the years 1900 through 1916 has been provided by Carlos Manuel Trelles y Govin. It is called the Bibliografia Cubana de Siglo XX, and includes references to for- eign sources and periodical articles. Its title would lead one to ex- pect continuations, but only in such subjects as geography, history, and science have these occurred. The Anuario Bibliogrdfico Cubano (Havana), which covers the years 1937 to and including 1953, has been a project of one man since its initial appearance in 1938. He is Fermin Peraza y Sa- rausa, who edits, publishes, and distributes it. The latest edition consists of a combined author and subject list, an addenda of publications of previous years, and an analytical index. The following works all have bibliographies of varying degrees of completeness. I am citing these not because they contain the most balanced lists that can be found, but because they punctuate salient features of Cuban culture. It is to be noted, particularly as an index of the relative importance of cultural manifestations, that both Jose Marti and Afro-Cuban music are represented in this list: Verez de Peraza, Elena Luisa. Publicaciones de las instituciones culturales cubanas. (fHa- vana, 1949.) Rodriguez Exp6sito, Cisar, and Lilia Castro de Morales (eds.). Los mejores libros cbanas de 1900 a 1950. (Havana, 1952.) Remos y Rubio, Juan Nepomuceno Jose. . Historia de la iteratura cubana. (Havana, 1945.) Peraza y Sarausa, Fermin. Bibliografia martiuna. (Havana, 1950.) The bibliography of the island republics is more extensive than that of the Central American republics. In this case, culture may be a corollary of history, for in all three countries, and especially in Cuba and Haiti, the revolutionary tradition has been strong. Cuba A bibliography of Cuba for the years 1900 through 1916 has been provided by Carlos Manuel Trelles y Govin. It is called the Bibliografia Cubana de Siglo XX, and includes references to for- eign sources and periodical articles. Its title would lead one to ex- pect continuations, but only in such subjects as geography, history, and science have these occurred. The Anuario Bibliogrdico Cubano (Havana), which covers the years 1937 to and including 1953, has been a project of one man since its initial appearance in 1938. He is Fermin Peraza y Sa- rausa, who edits, publishes, and distributes it. The latest edition consists of a combined author and subject list, an addenda of publications of previous years, and an analytical index. The following vorks all have bibliographies of varying degrees of completeness. I am citing these not because they contain the most balanced lists that can be found, but because they punctuate salient features of Cuban culture. It is to be noted, particularly as an index of the relative importance of cultural manifestations, that both Jose Marti and Afro-Cuban music are represented in this list: Virez de Peraza, Elena Luisa. Publicaciones de las instituciones culturales cubanas. (Ha- vana, 1949.) Rodriguez Exp6sito, Cesar, and Lilia Castro de Morales (eds.). Los mejores libros cubanos de 1900 a 1950. (Havana, 1952.) Remos y Rubio, Juan Nepomuceno Jos6. . . . Historia de la literatura cubana. (Havana, 1945.) Peraza y Sarausa, Fermin. Bibliografia martiana. (Havana, 1950.)  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 257 Paris. Musde National d'Art Moderne. Art cubain contemporain. (Paris, 1951.) Ortiz, Fernando. Los bailes y el teatro de los negros en el folklore de Cuba. (Havana, 1951.) La africania de la mrsica folkldrica de Cuba. (Havana, 1950.) Dominican Republic The Bibliografia de Is bibliografis dominicana (Ciudad Tru- jillo), compiled by Luis Floren Lozano, was published in 1948. Its imprint date signifies it is fairly up to date. Its comprehensiveness, especially regarding foreign imprints, is in question. The Anuario Bibliogrdilco Dominicano (Ciudad Trujillo), for which 1946 was the initial year, seems to be the first current listing of Dominican publications which has survived the greater part of a decade. The Boletin Bibliogrdhfco Dominicano (Ciudad Trujillo), initiated in 1944, ended with the second issue in 1945. There is an interesting article in Amiricas of April, 1954, by Max Henriquez-Urefa, entitled "A Look at Dominican Literature," which is superior to any other literary piece on the subject of which I know. It describes the writing from the days of the birth of the Republic in 1844 to modern times. The author mentions works of modern novelists, poets, and essayists. Music and Musicians of the Dominican Republic, authored by Jacob M. Coopersmith and published by the Pan American Union, is the best single guide to the subject. The bibliographies include one of recorded music. Haiti Max Bissainthe's Dictionnaire de bibliographie haitienne (Washington, D.C., 1951) was published by the Scarecrow Press. It is considered a landmark in Latin American bibliography and can be designated by superlatives, but as these have been supplied in the article on "Haitian Language and Literature" by Mercer CULTURAL CONCEPTS 257 Paris. Musee National d'Art Moderne. Art cubain contemporain. (Paris, 1951.) Ortiz, Fernando. Los bailes y el teatro de los negros en el folklore de Cuba. (Havana, 1951.) La africania de la mssica folkl6rica de Cuba. (Havana, 1950.) Dominican Republic The Bibliografia de la bibliografia dominicana (Ciudad Tru- jillo), compiled by Luis Floren Lozano, was published in 1948. Its imprint date signifies it is fairly up to date. Its comprehensiveness, especially regarding foreign imprints, is in question. The Anuario Bibliogrdfco Dominicano (Ciudad Trujillo), for which 1946 was the initial year, seems to be the first current listing of Dominican publications which has survived the greater part of a decade. The Boletin Bibliogrdfico Dominicano (Ciudad Trujillo), initiated in 1944, ended with the second issue in 1945. There is an interesting article in Americas of April, 1954, by Max Henriquez-Urena, entitled "A Look at Dominican Literature," which is superior to any other literary piece on the subject of which I know. It describes the writing from the days of the birth of the Republic in 1844 to modern times. The author mentions works of modern novelists, poets, and essayists. Music and Musicians of the Dominican Republic, authored by Jacob M. Coopersmith and published by the Pan American Union, is the best single guide to the subject. The bibliographies include one of recorded music. Haiti Max Bissainthe's Dictionnaire de bibliographie haitienne (Washington, D.C., 1951) was published by the Scarecrow Press. It is considered a landmark in Latin American bibliography and can be designated by superlatives, but as these have been supplied in the article on "Haitian Language and Literature" by Mercer CULTURAL CONCEPTS 257 Paris. Musee National d'Art Moderne. Art cubain contemporain. (Paris, 1951.) Ortiz, Fernando. Los bailes y el teatro de los negros en el folklore de Cuba. (Havana, 1951.) La africania de la mdsica folklorica de Cuba. (Havana, 1950.) Dominican Republic The Bibliografia de la bibliografia dominicana (Ciudad Tru- jillo), compiled by Luis Floren Lozano, was published in 1948. Its imprint date signifies it is fairly up to date. Its comprehensiveness, especially regarding foreign imprints, is in question. The Anuario Bibliografico Dominicano (Ciudad Trujillo), for which 1946 was the initial year, seems to be the first current listing of Dominican publications which has survived the greater part of a decade. The Boletin Bibliogrdfico Dominicano (Ciudad Trujillo), initiated in 1944, ended with the second issue in 1945. There is an interesting article in Americas of April, 1954, by Max Henriquez-Urena, entitled "A Look at Dominican Literature," which is superior to any other literary piece on the subject of which I know. It describes the writing from the days of the birth of the Republic in 1844 to modern times. The author mentions works of modern novelists, poets, and essayists. Music and Musicians of the Dominican Republic, authored by Jacob M. Coopersmith and published by the Pan American Union, is the best single guide to the subject. The bibliographies include one of recorded music. Haiti Max Bissainthe's Dictionnaire de bibliographie haitienne (Washington, D.C., 1951) was published by the Scarecrow Press. It is considered a landmark in Latin American bibliography and can be designated by superlatives, but as these have been supplied in the article on "Haitian Language and Literature" by Mercer  258 The Caribbean Cook in Handbook No. 17 (1951), I shall limit myself to a description of its bibliographic features. There are three main lists which are arranged alphabetically. One covers works of Haitians both at home and abroad from January, 1804, to Decem- ber, 1949. The second is a subject bibliography of Hispaniola and Santo Domingo from earliest times to 1949. The third is a list of newspapers and periodicals from Santo Domingo and Haiti from 1764 to 1949. There are title and subject indexes, and many entries have brief annotations. Art in Haiti cannot be lightly passed over, nor can music. The art has been described in many articles in American literary re- views which are indexed in bibliographies I have already cited. I have space to refer to but one article by John Harrison, entitled "Some Haitian Painters," which appeared in the little-known Bar- badian magazine BIM (Bridgetown). The writer describes the modern school of primitive painters in Haiti. He gives due credit to DeWitt Peters for creating the environment in which painting has prospered, and then proceeds to describe the work of indi- vidual artists. Perhaps the most representative music in Haiti is the folk song. These cannot be contemporary in the sense of having been com- posed in recent times, but they are the songs and music which one hears in the country today. Two references which are in- tended only as an introduction to the subject are: Hyppolite, Michelson Paul. Une itude sur le folklore haitien. (Port-au-Prince, 1954.) Jaegerhuber, Werner A. Chansons folkloriques d'Haiti. (Port-au-Prince, 1945.) Caribbean Dependent and Semidependent Countries Comparatively few organized bibliographies have been pub- lished for the area of the non-self-governing Caribbean outside of Puerto Rico. The single effort to date to compile a comprehensive list of materials, including imprints of all the dependencies, has 258 The Caribbean Cook in Handbook No. 17 (1951), I shall limit myself to a description of its bibliographic features. There are three main lists which are arranged alphabetically. One covers works of Haitians both at home and abroad from January, 1804, to Decem- ber, 1949. The second is a subject bibliography of Hispaniola and Santo Domingo from earliest times to 1949. The third is a list of newspapers and periodicals from Santo Domingo and Haiti from 1764 to 1949. There are title and subject indexes, and many entries have brief annotations. Art in Haiti cannot be lightly passed over, nor can music. The art has been described in many articles in American literary re- views which are indexed in bibliographies I have already cited. I have space to refer to but one article by John Harrison, entitled "Some Haitian Painters," which appeared in the little-known Bar- badian magazine BIM (Bridgetown). The writer describes the modern school of primitive painters in Haiti. He gives due credit to DeWitt Peters for creating the environment in which painting has prospered, and then proceeds to describe the work of indi- vidual artists. Perhaps the most representative music in Haiti is the folk song. These cannot be contemporary in the sense of having been com- posed in recent times, but they are the songs and music which one hears in the country today. Two references which are in- tended only as an introduction to the subject are: Hyppolite, Michelson Paul. Une itude sur le folklore haitien. (Port-au-Prince, 1954.) Jaegerhuber, Werner A. Chansons folkloriques d'Haiti. (Port-au-Prince, 1945.) Caribbean Dependent and Semidependent Countries Comparatively few organized bibliographies have been pub- lished for the area of the non-self-governing Caribbean outside of Puerto Rico. The single effort to date to compile a comprehensive list of materials, including imprints of all the dependencies, has 258 The Caribbean Cook in Handbook No. 17 (1951), I shall limit myself to a description of its bibliographic features. There are three main lists which are arranged alphabetically. One covers works of Haitians both at home and abroad from January, 1804, to Decem- ber, 1949. The second is a subject bibliography of Hispaniola and Santo Domingo from earliest times to 1949. The third is a list of newspapers and periodicals from Santo Domingo and Haiti from 1764 to 1949. There are title and subject indexes, and many entries have brief annotations. Art in Haiti cannot be lightly passed over, nor can music. The art has been described in many articles in American literary re- views which are indexed in bibliographies I have already cited. I have space to refer to but one article by John Harrison, entitled "Some Haitian Painters," which appeared in the little-known Bar- badian magazine BIM (Bridgetown). The writer describes the modern school of primitive painters in Haiti. He gives due credit to DeWitt Peters for creating the environment in which painting has prospered, and then proceeds to describe the work of indi- vidual artists. Perhaps the most representative music in Haiti is the folk song. These cannot be contemporary in the sense of having been com- posed in recent times, but they are the songs and music which one hears in the country today. Two references which are in- tended only as an introduction to the subject are: Hyppolite, Michelson Paul. Une itude sur le folklore haitien. (Port-au-Prince, 1954.) Jaegerhuber, Werner A. Chansons folkloriques d'Haiti. (Port-au-Prince, 1945.) Caribbean Dependent and Semidependent Countries Comparatively few organized bibliographies have been pub- lished for the area of the non-self-governing Caribbean outside of Puerto Rico. The single effort to date to compile a comprehensive list of materials, including imprints of all the dependencies, has  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 259 been that of the Current Caribbean Bibliography (Port-of-Spain, Td.). It was proposed in 1950 by Dr. Lewis Hanke, then Direc- tor of the Hispanic Foundation of the Library of Congress. The organization for the publication was based on three institutions, that is, the University College of the West Indies in Jamaica, the University of Puerto Rico in Rio Piedras, and the Central Secretariat of the Caribbean Commission in Port-of-Spain. The periodical was issued twice a year for 1951 through 1953. In 1954 it became an annual, and future plans envisage but one copy a year. There are many publications containing sections with selective lists of the special subject matter. One worthy of mention is the Negro Yearbook, published for the Tuskegee Institute by William H. Wise & Co., Inc. A long section in the 1952 volume is devoted to books and pamphlets "by or relating to Negroes, 1926-1951." The West Indies is dealt with separately with subclassification by subject. The most complete bibliography on education compiled to date is that prepared by the Research Branch of the Caribbean Com- mission for presentation to the Fifth Meeting of the West Indian Conference in 1955. It is an author list and is very comprehen- sive, but entries are not annotated. For educational surveys of the region, the United Nations Document Index and Unesco lists should be consulted. One such UN study is the Special Study on Educational Conditions in the Non-self-governing Territories (1954). It includes summaries of conditions for a selected group of political units in the Caribbean. The World Handbook on Edu- cational Organization and Statistics (1951), Basic Facts and Fig- ures (2nd ed., 1954), and Education Abstracts are Unesco publications which provide a factual background for the analysis of local educational conditions. The Joint Conference on Education and Small Scale Farming was convened by the Caribbean Commission last October. The documentation contains excellent papers on the social and eco- nomic background of education in the Caribbean, the nature of CULTURAL CONCEPTS 259 been that of the Current Caribbean Bibliography (Port-of-Spain, Td.). It was proposed in 1950 by Dr. Lewis Hanke, then Direc- tor of the Hispanic Foundation of the Library of Congress. The organization for the publication was based on three institutions, that is, the University College of the West Indies in Jamaica, the University of Puerto Rico in Rio Piedras, and the Central Secretariat of the Caribbean Commission in Port-of-Spain. The periodical was issued twice a year for 1951 through 1953. In 1954 it became an annual, and future plans envisage but one copy a year. There are many publications containing sections with selective lists of the special subject matter. One worthy of mention is the Negro Yearbook, published for the Tuskegee Institute by William H. Wise & Co., Inc. A long section in the 1952 volume is devoted to books and pamphlets "by or relating to Negroes, 1926-1951." The West Indies is dealt with separately with subclassification by subject. The most complete bibliography on education compiled to date is that prepared by the Research Branch of the Caribbean Com- mission for presentation to the Fifth Meeting of the West Indian Conference in 1955. It is an author list and is very comprehen- sive, but entries are not annotated. For educational surveys of the region, the United Nations Document Index and Unesco lists should be consulted. One such UN study is the Special Study on Educational Conditions in the Non-self-governing Territories (1954). It includes summaries of conditions for a selected group of political units in the Caribbean. The World Handbook on Edu- cational Organization and Statistics (1951), Basic Facts and Fig- ures (2nd ed., 1954), and Education Abstracts are Unesco publications which provide a factual background for the analysis of local educational conditions. The Joint Conference on Education and Small Scale Farming was convened by the Caribbean Commission last October. The documentation contains excellent papers on the social and eco- nomic background of education in the Caribbean, the nature of CULTURAL CONCEPTS 259 been that of the Current Caribbean Bibliography (Port-of-Spain, Td.). It was proposed in 1950 by Dr. Lewis Hanke, then Direc- tor of the Hispanic Foundation of the Library of Congress. The organization for the publication was based on three institutions, that is, the University College of the West Indies in Jamaica, the University of Puerto Rico in Rio Piedras, and the Central Secretariat of the Caribbean Commission in Port-of-Spain. The periodical was issued twice a year for 1951 through 1953. In 1954 it became an annual, and future plans envisage but one copy a year. There are many publications containing sections with selective lists of the special subject matter. One worthy of mention is the Negro Yearbook, published for the Tuskegee Institute by William H. Wise & Co., Inc. A long section in the 1952 volume is devoted to books and pamphlets "by or relating to Negroes, 1926-1951." The West Indies is dealt with separately with subclassification by subject. The most complete bibliography on education compiled to date is that prepared by the Research Branch of the Caribbean Com- mission for presentation to the Fifth Meeting of the West Indian Conference in 1955. It is an author list and is very comprehen- sive, but entries are not annotated. For educational surveys of the region, the United Nations Document Index and Unesco lists should be consulted. One such UN study is the Special Study on Educational Conditions in the Non-self-governing Territories (1954). It includes summaries of conditions for a selected group of political units in the Caribbean. The World Handbook on Edu- cational Organization and Statistics (1951), Basic Facts and Fig- ures (2nd ed., 1954), and Education Abstracts are Unesco publications which provide a factual background for the analysis of local educational conditions. The Joint Conference on Education and Small Scale Farming was convened by the Caribbean Commission last October. The documentation contains excellent papers on the social and eco- nomic background of education in the Caribbean, the nature of  260 The Caribbean instructional materials in use, and local administrative problems. It is extremely valuable as a very recent summary of local con- ditions and because of the recommendations for educational im- provements which it proposes. The First Caribbean Seminar on Adult Education was convened by the University College of the West Indies in 1952. It was impressive particularly because it demonstrated the interest of the University College in a wide range of subjects of social rather than strictly institutional concern. The agenda comprised: Adult Education and Caribbean Development; Adult Education and Social Development in the British Caribbean; The Seminar Library; The Jamaican Family; The Problem of Literacy; The Work of the Jamaica Social Welfare Commission; Aspects of Fun- damental Education; The Marbial Valley Project; and Community Education in Puerto Rico. French Departments The volume of historical literature of the French islands is tremendous. One has only to consult the bibliographies of Eugene Revert in his Les Antilles (Paris, 1954), La Martinique (Paris, 1949), and De quelques aspects du folk-lore martiniquais (Paris, 1951) to obtain an idea of the consideration the islands have received in earlier times. However, contemporary documentation concerning both the islands and French Guiana is scarce, although one must exclude from this generalization the subject of the eruption of Mt. Pelee in 1902 and the incidents surrounding the administration of Admiral Roberts during the recent World War. The Library of Congress bibliography Martinique; A Selected List of References (1942) is useful for its historical citations. Martinique, Guadeloupe, and French Guiana are Departments of metropolitan France rather than territories in the sense of the British units, and the Bibliographic de la France (Paris) is the most current and comprehensive record for all French publica- tions. It can be cited as a source of information for the French- Caribbean Departments, however, only because the works of native writers, almost without exception, are published in Paris, for I 260 The Caribbean instructional materials in use, and local administrative problems. It is extremely valuable as a very recent summary of local con- ditions and because of the recommendations for educational im- provements which it proposes. The First Caribbean Seminar on Adult Education was convened by the University College of the West Indies in 1952. It was impressive particularly because it demonstrated the interest of the University College in a wide range of subjects of social rather than strictly institutional concern. The agenda comprised: Adult Education and Caribbean Development; Adult Education and Social Development in the British Caribbean; The Seminar Library; The Jamaican Family; The Problem of Literacy; The Work of the Jamaica Social Welfare Commission; Aspects of Fun- damental Education; The Marbial Valley Project; and Community Education in Puerto Rico. French Departments The volume of historical literature of the French islands is tremendous. One has only to consult the bibliographies of Eugene Revert in his Les Antilles (Paris, 1954), La Martinique (Paris, 1949), and De quelques aspects do folk-lore martiniquais (Paris, 1951) to obtain an idea of the consideration the islands have received in earlier times. However, contemporary documentation concerning both the islands and French Guiana is scarce, although one must exclude from this generalization the subject of the eruption of Mt. Pelee in 1902 and the incidents surrounding the administration of Admiral Roberts during the recent World War. The Library of Congress bibliography Martinique; A Selected List of References (1942) is useful for its historical citations. Martinique, Guadeloupe, and French Guiana are Departments of metropolitan France rather than territories in the sense of the British units, and the Bibliographie de la France (Paris) is the most current and comprehensive record for all French publica- tions. It can be cited as a source of information for the French- Caribbean Departments, however, only because the works of native writers, almost without exception, are published in Paris, for I 260 The Caribbean instructional materials in use, and local administrative problems. It is extremely valuable as a very recent summary of local con- ditions and because of the recommendations for educational im- provements which it proposes. The First Caribbean Seminar on Adult Education was convened by the University College of the West Indies in 1952. It was impressive particularly because it demonstrated the interest of the University College in a wide range of subjects of social rather than strictly institutional concern. The agenda comprised: Adult Education and Caribbean Development; Adult Education and Social Development in the British Caribbean; The Seminar Library; The Jamaican Family; The Problem of Literacy; The Work of the Jamaica Social Welfare Commission; Aspects of Fun- damental Education; The Marbial Valley Project; and Community Education in Puerto Rico. French Departments The volume of historical literature of the French islands is tremendous. One has only to consult the bibliographies of Eugene Revert in his Les Antilles (Paris, 1954), La Martinique (Paris, 1949), and De quelques aspects du folk-lore martiniquais (Paris, 1951) to obtain an idea of the consideration the islands have received in earlier times. However, contemporary documentation concerning both the islands and French Guiana is scarce, although one must exclude from this generalization the subject of the eruption of Mt. Pelee in 1902 and the incidents surrounding the administration of Admiral Roberts during the recent World War. The Library of Congress bibliography Martinique; A Selected List of References (1942) is useful for its historical citations. Martinique, Guadeloupe, and French Guiana are Departments of metropolitan France rather than territories in the sense of the British units, and the Bibliographie de la France (Paris) is the most current and comprehensive record for all French publica- tions. It can be cited as a source of information for the French- Caribbean Departments, however, only because the works of native writers, almost without exception, are published in Paris, for I  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 261 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 261 CULTURAL CONCEPTS have never chanced upon a Fort-de-France or Pointe-a-Pitre or Cayenne imprint in its pages. Leon Thomas, in the article entitled "Apergu bibliographique" in the April-June, 1952, issue of Inter-American Review of Bib- liography, summarizes the problems facing artistic expression and its representation in Martinique and Guadeloupe. He discusses in particular Revue Guadeloupienne (Pointe-a-Pitre), which was a literary effort to present the works of modern native writers. It ceased publication in 1951 after six years of existence. There has been nothing comparable to this in Martinique until very recently. Horizons Caraibe (Fort-de-France) is now being published as a monthly periodical, but as it was initiated in 1952, it is too early to assess its value. Foreign t gazines have recently taken an interest in the non- Spanish Caribbean. I have seen an article in Americas, which refers to the literary qualities of Martiniquan authors compositely with those of Cuba, Haiti, and Puerto Rico. BIM (Bridgetown), the Barbados biannual which embraces in its contents the culture of all the islands as a subject for literary consideration, has printed John Harrison's "To Introduce Three French West Indian Novel- ists" in its June, 1952, issue. These are Guy Marester, Joseph Zobel, and Daniel de Grandmaison. Andre Midas has also written an article in volume 5, number 12, in which he deals with the wider field of "The Literary Movement in the French West Indies." There is no evidence to date of a literary movement in French Guiana, although it is interesting to observe that M. Auguste has written a foundation study on the local dialect titled Le patois guyanais: essai de systematisation (Cayenne, 1949). Nor have I been able to unearth material concerning the modern art or music of any of the French units. There is an Arts and Crafts Society in Martinique which holds an annual exhibition, but no particular school of modern art has evolved. In French Guiana, neither the local Indians nor the Bush Negroes have developed forms that are distinctive. have never chanced upon a Fort-de-France or Pointe-a-Pitre or Cayenne imprint in its pages. Leon Thomas, in the article entitled "Apergu bibliographique" in the April-June, 1952, issue of Inter-American Review of Bib- liography, summarizes the problems facing artistic expression and its representation in Martinique and Guadeloupe. He discusses in particular Revue Guadeloupienne (Pointe-a-Pitre), which was a literary effort to present the works of modern native writers. It ceased publication in 1951 after six years of existence. There has been nothing comparable to this in Martinique until very recently. Horizons Caraibe (Fort-de-France) is now being published as a monthly periodical, but as it was initiated in 1952, it is too early to assess its value. Foreign i gazines have recently taken an interest in the non- Spanish Caribbean. I have seen an article in Amiricas, which refers to the literary qualities of Martiniquan authors compositely with those of Cuba, Haiti, and Puerto Rico. BIM (Bridgetown), the Barbados biannual which embraces in its contents the culture of all the islands as a subject for literary consideration, has printed John Harrison's "To Introduce Three French West Indian Novel- ists" in its June, 1952, issue. These are Guy Marester, Joseph Zobel, and Daniel de Grandmaison. Andre Midas has also written an article in volume 5, number 12, in which he deals with the wider field of "The Literary Movement in the French West Indies." There is no evidence to date of a literary movement in French Guiana, although it is interesting to observe that M. Auguste has written a foundation study on the local dialect titled Le patois guyanais: essai de systimatisation (Cayenne, 1949). Nor have I been able to unearth material concerning the modern art or music of any of the French units. There is an Arts and Crafts Society in Martinique which holds an annual exhibition, but no particular school of modem art has evolved. In French Guiana, neither the local Indians nor the Bush Negroes have developed forms that are distinctive. have never chanced upon a Fort-de-France or Pointe-a-Pitre or Cayenne imprint in its pages. Leon Thomas, in the article entitled "Apergu bibliographique" in the April-June, 1952, issue of Inter-American Review of Bib- liography, summarizes the problems facing artistic expression and its representation in Martinique and Guadeloupe. He discusses in particular Revue Guadeloupienne (Pointe-a-Pitre), which was a literary effort to present the works of modern native writers. It ceased publication in 1951 after six years of existence. There has been nothing comparable to this in Martinique until very recently. Horizons Caraibe (Fort-de-France) is now being published as a monthly periodical, but as it was initiated in 1952, it is too early to assess its value. Foreign t gazines have recently taken an interest in the non- Spanish Caribbean. I have seen an article in Amdricas, which refers to the literary qualities of Martiniquan authors compositely with those of Cuba, Haiti, and Puerto Rico. BIM (Bridgetown), the Barbados biannual which embraces in its contents the culture of all the islands as a subject for literary consideration, has printed John Harrison's "To Introduce Three French West Indian Novel- ists" in its June, 1952, issue. These are Guy Marester, Joseph Zobel, and Daniel de Grandmaison. Andre Midas has also written an article in volume 5, number 12, in which he deals with the wider field of "The Literary Movement in the French West Indies." There is no evidence to date of a literary movement in French Guiana, although it is interesting to observe that M. Auguste has written a foundation study on the local dialect titled Le patois guyanais: essai de systdmatisation (Cayenne, 1949). Nor have I been able to unearth material concerning the modern art or music of any of the French units. There is an Arts and Crafts Society in Martinique which holds an annual exhibition, but no particular school of modern art has evolved. In French Guiana, neither the local Indians nor the Bush Negroes have developed forms that are distinctive.  262 British Territories The Caribbean 262 British Territories The Caribbean 262 British Territories The Caribbean One cannot possibly separate nineteenth-century West Indian culture from the subjects of sugar and slavery. The twentieth century is not far removed from that of the preceding century in the West Indies, where progress has been relatively slow and economic causes of distress that still persist are the subject matter of the artists and authors of modern times. This trait is more articulately expressed in the literature of the British Caribbean than it is in the rest of the region, with the possible exception of Puerto Rico. The libraries of the West Indian Committee and the Royal Empire Society contain collections of nineteenth- and early twen- tieth-century West Indiana that make both their catalogues excel- lent sources for background references. The Catalogue of the Library of the West Indian Committee (London) was printed in 1941. Volume III of the Subject Catalogue of the Library of the Royal Empire Society (London), issued in 1931, includes a sec- tion on the "West Indies and Colonial America." Bibliographies of cultural subjects in the British West Indies are not conspicuously in evidence. Her Majesty's Stationery Office in London publishes occasional brochures on cultural and social subjects, such as Buildings of Architectural and Historical Inter- est in the British West Indies (1951) by Angus Whiteford Ac- worth, and the Colonial Building Notes, so one cannot overlook either the HMSO Daily List of Government Publications or the Monthly List of Official Publications put out by the Colonial Office Library. Most of all, the latter bibliography is important because it lists the annual departmental reports and also special govern- ment educational studies when these are issued. Two other references for the British region of relevance to special subjects are Helen L. Flowers' A Classification of the Folk Tale of the West Indies by Types and Motives (Ann Arbor, Uni- versity Microfilms, 1952) and Eric E. Williams' Education in the British West Indies (Port-of-Spain, 1950). The former contains One cannot possibly separate nineteenth-century West Indian culture from the subjects of sugar and slavery. The twentieth century is not far removed from that of the preceding century in the West Indies, where progress has been relatively slow and economic causes of distress that still persist are the subject matter of the artists and authors of modern times. This trait is more articulately expressed in the literature of the British Caribbean than it is in the rest of the region, with the possible exception of Puerto Rico. The libraries of the West Indian Committee and the Royal Empire Society contain collections of nineteenth- and early twen- tieth-century West Indiana that make both their catalogues excel- lent sources for background references. The Catalogue of the Library of the West Indian Committee (London) was printed in 1941. Volume III of the Subject Catalogue of the Library of the Royal Empire Society (London), issued in 1931, includes a sec- tion on the "West Indies and Colonial America." Bibliographies of cultural subjects in the British West Indies are not conspicuously in evidence. Her Majesty's Stationery Office in London publishes occasional brochures on cultural and social subjects, such as Buildings of Architectural and Historical Inter- est in the British West Indies (1951) by Angus Whiteford Ac- worth, and the Colonial Building Notes, so one cannot overlook either the HMSO Daily List of Government Publications or the Monthly List of Official Publications put out by the Colonial Office Library. Most of all, the latter bibliography is important because it lists the annual departmental reports and also special govern- ment educational studies when these are issued. Two other references for the British region of relevance to special subjects are Helen L. Flowers' A Classification of the Folk Tale of the West Indies by Types and Motives (Ann Arbor, Uni- versity Microfilms, 1952) and Eric E. Williams' Education in the British West Indies (Port-of-Spain, 1950). The former contains One cannot possibly separate nineteenth-century West Indian culture from the subjects of sugar and slavery. The twentieth century is not far removed from that of the preceding century in the West Indies, where progress has been relatively slow and economic causes of distress that still persist are the subject matter of the artists and authors of modern times. This trait is more articulately expressed in the literature of the British Caribbean than it is in the rest of the region, with the possible exception of Puerto Rico. The libraries of the West Indian Committee and the Royal Empire Society contain collections of nineteenth- and early twen- tieth-century West Indiana that make both their catalogues excel- lent sources for background references. The Catalogue of the Library of the West Indian Committee (London) was printed in 1941. Volume III of the Subject Catalogue of the Library of the Royal Empire Society (London), issued in 1931, includes a sec- tion on the "West Indies and Colonial America." Bibliographies of cultural subjects in the British West Indies are not conspicuously in evidence. Her Majesty's Stationery Office in London publishes occasional brochures on cultural and social subjects, such as Buildings of Architectural and Historical Inter- est in the British West Indies (1951) by Angus Whiteford Ac- worth, and the Colonial Building Notes, so one cannot overlook either the HMSO Daily List of Government Publications or the Monthly List of Official Publications put out by the Colonial Office Library. Most of all, the latter bibliography is important because it lists the annual departmental reports and also special govern- ment educational studies when these are issued. Two other references for the British region of relevance to special subjects are Helen L. Flowers' A Classification of the Folk Tale of the West Indies by Types and Motives (Ann Arbor, Uni- versity Microfilms, 1952) and Eric E. Williams' Education in the British West Indies (Port-of-Spain, 1950). The former contains  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 263 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 263 CULTURAL CONCEPTS a twelve-page bibliography and is available on microfilm from the University Microfilms by whom it was published in 1952. Dr. Williams' book contains a list of references, which is useful be- cause it includes special reports and "white" papers of official edu- cation investigating commissions from the nineteenth to the middle of the twentieth century. The British territories where indigenous cultural traits are most conspicuous are Jamaica, Trinidad, Barbados, and British Guiana. Jamaica has become the prime mover of culture in the Caribbean, although it is a self-conscious effort, especially in the fine arts. The influence of the Haitian modern painting movements has been felt in Jamaica, but, in transplanting, little adjustment has been made to special characteristics of the Jamaican environment. The Poetry League in Kingston "has published several anthol- ogies of Jamaica Poetry. It carries on a regular programme of lectures in literary subjects; it gives guidance and encouragement to young writers; and, by various means, including the yearly elocution festival, it fosters the teaching and appreciation of poetry in the schools."' It is "currently engaged in the compilation of an anthology of the Caribbean in the four languages," embracing such writers as Derek Walcott, St. Lucia; Geoffrey Drayton and George Laming, Barbados; Ernest Carr and Samuel Selvon, Trini- dad; Rene de Rooy, Curagao; Daniel Thaley, Guadeloupe; and Tom Redcam, Poet Laureate McFarlane, Adolphe Roberts, Vivian Virtue, George Campbell, Louise Bennett and Una Marson, Jamaica.' Trinidad's greatest contribution to Caribbean culture has been in music. The calypso was originally a form of social and political caricature in verse, which is now being produced for popular con- sumption. Although Carnival represents the high-water mark of the calypso year, there are no longer seasonal aspects to musical ' Jacob Canter, "Poetry of the Caribbean," Americas, III, 12 (Wash- ington, D. C.), 32-33. Ibid. a twelve-page bibliography and is available on microfilm from the University Microfilms by whom it was published in 1952. Dr. Williams' book contains a list of references, which is useful be- cause it includes special reports and "white" papers of official edu- cation investigating commissions from the nineteenth to the middle of the twentieth century. The British territories where indigenous cultural traits are most conspicuous are Jamaica, Trinidad, Barbados, and British Guiana. Jamaica has become the prime mover of culture in the Caribbean, although it is a self-conscious effort, especially in the fine arts. The influence of the Haitian modern painting movements has been felt in Jamaica, but, in transplanting, little adjustment has been made to special characteristics of the Jamaican environment. The Poetry League in Kingston "has published several anthol- ogies of Jamaica Poetry. It carries on a regular programme of lectures in literary subjects; it gives guidance and encouragement to young writers; and, by various means, including the yearly elocution festival, it fosters the teaching and appreciation of poetry in the schools."' It is "currently engaged in the compilation of an anthology of the Caribbean in the four languages," embracing such writers as Derek Walcott, St. Lucia; Geoffrey Drayton and George Laming, Barbados; Ernest Carr and Samuel Selvon, Trini- dad; Rene de Rooy, Curagao; Daniel Thaley, Guadeloupe; and Tom Redcam, Poet Laureate McFarlane, Adolphe Roberts, Vivian Virtue, George Campbell, Louise Bennett and Una Marson, Jamaica.' Trinidad's greatest contribution to Caribbean culture has been in music. The calypso was originally a form of social and political caricature in verse, which is now being produced for popular con- sumption. Although Carnival represents the high-water mark of the calypso year, there are no longer seasonal aspects to musical ' Jacob Canter, "Poetry of the Caribbean," Amdricas, III, 12 (Wash- ington, D. C.), 32-33. * Ibid. a twelve-page bibliography and is available on microfilm from the University Microfilms by whom it was published in 1952. Dr. Williams' book contains a list of references, which is useful be- cause it includes special reports and "white" papers of official edu- cation investigating commissions from the nineteenth to the middle of the twentieth century. The British territories where indigenous cultural traits are most conspicuous are Jamaica, Trinidad, Barbados, and British Guiana. Jamaica has become the prime mover of culture in the Caribbean, although it is a self-conscious effort, especially in the fine arts. The influence of the Haitian modern painting movements has been felt in Jamaica, but, in transplanting, little adjustment has been made to special characteristics of the Jamaican environment. The Poetry League in Kingston "has published several anthol- ogies of Jamaica Poetry. It carries on a regular programme of lectures in literary subjects; it gives guidance and encouragement to young writers; and, by various means, including the yearly elocution festival, it fosters the teaching and appreciation of poetry in the schools."' It is "currently engaged in the compilation of an anthology of the Caribbean in the four languages," embracing such writers as Derek Walcott, St. Lucia; Geoffrey Drayton and George Laming, Barbados; Ernest Carr and Samuel Selvon, Trini- dad; Rene de Rooy, Curagao; Daniel Thaley, Guadeloupe; and Tom Redcam, Poet Laureate McFarlane, Adolphe Roberts, Vivian Virtue, George Campbell, Louise Bennett and Una Marson, Jamaica. Trinidad's greatest contribution to Caribbean culture has been in music. The calypso was originally a form of social and political caricature in verse, which is now being produced for popular con- sumption. Although Carnival represents the high-water mark of the calypso year, there are no longer seasonal aspects to musical * Jacob Canter, "Poetry of the Caribbean," Americas, III, 12 (Wash- ington, D. C.), 32-33. Ibid.  264 The Caribbean 264 The Caribbean 264 The Caribbean composition, or limitations to the recording and marketing of the records all over the world. The steel band has had a more recent history. It consisted of nothing more than pan-beating ten years ago, and its evolution has been a product of the development of the instrument, the technique, and musical appreciation. The folklore of music, not only in Trinidad, but in other Caribbean islands, can best be described by Mr. Andrew Pearse and Mrs. Lisa Lekis, who are participants in this Caribbean conference. Modern culture in Barbados and British Guiana is mainly literary. Each territory has spawned an outstanding writer (George Laming in the case of Barbados and Edgar Mittelholzer in British Guiana), and the young writers of each country find outlets in "little" magazines which are published locally. I have already referred to BIM, which is a Barbadian publication edited by Frank Collymore. There is also the Bajan, Volume I of which was published in Bridgetown in 1953. Kyk-over-al is a British Guiana literary magazine comprising original articles, short stories, poems, and reviews of Caribbean authors. The Caribbean Quarterly is published, beautifully designed, and attractively produced in Port-of-Spain by the Extra Mural Department of the University College of the West Indies. Its editors have shown excellent taste in implementing their edi- torial policy of "mobilizing . .. not only scholars but curious laymen, collectors, writers, social workers, teachers, photographers, artists and technicians to document and study the West Indian world." The annual colonial reports of the Colonial Office contain bibliographies for their respective territories, which are complete to different degrees. Some of these are more useful than others be- cause they list the published works of native writers. However, the solitary retrospective "national" bibliography which I am able to cite is the Bibliography on British Guiana (Georgetown, 1947), compiled by Vincent Roth. It is comprehensive to an amazing degree, from the earliest times to 1946, and anyone doing re- composition, or limitations to the recording and marketing of the records all over the world. The steel band has had a more recent history. It consisted of nothing more than pan-beating ten years ago, and its evolution has been a product of the development of the instrument, the technique, and musical appreciation. The folklore of music, not only in Trinidad, but in other Caribbean islands, can best be described by Mr. Andrew Pearse and Mrs. Lisa Lekis, who are participants in this Caribbean conference. Modern culture in Barbados and British Guiana is mainly literary. Each territory has spawned an outstanding writer (George Laming in the case of Barbados and Edgar Mittelholzer in British Guiana), and the young writers of each country find outlets in "little" magazines which are published locally. I have already referred to BIM, which is a Barbadian publication edited by Frank Collymore. There is also the Bajan, Volume I of which was published in Bridgetown in 1953. Kyk-over-al is a British Guiana literary magazine comprising original articles, short stories, poems, and reviews of Caribbean authors. The Caribbean Quarterly is published, beautifully designed, and attractively produced in Port-of-Spain by the Extra Mural Department of the University College of the West Indies. Its editors have shown excellent taste in implementing their edi- torial policy of "mobilizing . . . not only scholars but curious laymen, collectors, writers, social workers, teachers, photographers, artists and technicians to document and study the West Indian world." The annual colonial reports of the Colonial Office contain bibliographies for their respective territories, which are complete to different degrees. Some of these are more useful than others be- cause they list the published works of native writers. However, the solitary retrospective "national" bibliography which I am able to cite is the Bibliography on British Guiana (Georgetown, 1947), compiled by Vincent Roth. It is comprehensive to an amazing degree, from the earliest times to 1946, and anyone doing re- composition, or limitations to the recording and marketing of the records all over the world. The steel band has had a more recent history. It consisted of nothing more than pan-beating ten years ago, and its evolution has been a product of the development of the instrument, the technique, and musical appreciation. The folklore of music, not only in Trinidad, but in other Caribbean islands, can best be described by Mr. Andrew Pearse and Mrs. Lisa Lekis, who are participants in this Caribbean conference. Modern culture in Barbados and British Guiana is mainly literary. Each territory has spawned an outstanding writer (George Laming in the case of Barbados and Edgar Mittelholzer in British Guiana), and the young writers of each country find outlets in "little" magazines which are published locally. I have already referred to BIM, which is a Barbadian publication edited by Frank Collymore. There is also the Bajan, Volume I of which was published in Bridgetown in 1953. Kyk-over-al is a British Guiana literary magazine comprising original articles, short stories, poems, and reviews of Caribbean authors. The Caribbean Quarterly is published, beautifully designed, and attractively produced in Port-of-Spain by the Extra Mural Department of the University College of the West Indies. Its editors have shown excellent taste in implementing their edi- torial policy of "mobilizing . . . not only scholars but curious laymen, collectors, writers, social workers, teachers, photographers, artists and technicians to document and study the West Indian world." The annual colonial reports of the Colonial Office contain bibliographies for their respective territories, which are complete to different degrees. Some of these are more useful than others be- cause they list the published works of native writers. However, the solitary retrospective "national" bibliography which I am able to cite is the Bibliography on British Guiana (Georgetown, 1947), compiled by Vincent Roth. It is comprehensive to an amazing degree, from the earliest times to 1946, and anyone doing re-  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 265 search would find it indispensable. Unfortunately, it is poorly arranged and therefore it is difficult to use. It was microfilmed by the Library of Congress from typescript and positive copies are available from that organization. Material about British Honduras is scarce, apart from a few bibliographies which are largely limited to publications concerning its history, exploration, physical resources, and present economic conditions-for this territory, like French Guiana, is at a very early stage of development. British Honduras: A Bibliographical List (1940), compiled by Florence S. Hellman and duplicated by the Library of Congress, is a well-balanced selective list, but it contains very few references of cultural subjects, except for edu- cation, because there is very little that could be referred to in any other categories. Netherlands Dependencies The publishing record of Surinam and the Netherlands Antilles has been comparatively well indexed. The Library of Congress has issued a Guide to Dutch Bibliographies (1951) in three parts, which is a practical starting point for research. Part 1 comprises a list of comprehensive bibliographies of the Netherlands and the overseas territories; Part 2 is devoted to subject bibliographies; and Part 3 to lists of academic dissertations, government publications, and the like. The easy availability of information concerning the Dutch dependencies is principally due to the existence of publishing organizations in the metropolitan country, which have conscien- tiously included coverage of the outlying areas of the Netherlands. Brinkman's cumulative Catalogus van Boeken (Leiden) is a com- prehensive current bibliography of Dutch imprints, which has a subject matter index to the main author list, and therefore it is convenient to consult for publications of geographical and political units. Tropical Abstracts of the Royal Tropical Institute in Amsterdam is an international selective list. The abstracts of each entry are CULTURAL CONCEPTS 400 search would find it indispensable. Unfortunately, it is poorly arranged and therefore it is difficult to use. It was microfilmed by the Library of Congress from typescript and positive copies are available from that organization. Material about British Honduras is scarce, apart from a few bibliographies which are largely limited to publications concerning its history, exploration, physical resources, and present economic conditions-for this territory, like French Guiana, is at a very early stage of development. British Honduras: A Bibliographical List (1940), compiled by Florence S. Hellman and duplicated by the Library of Congress, is a well-balanced selective list, but it contains very few references of cultural subjects, except for edu- cation, because there is very little that could be referred to in any other categories. Netherlands Dependencies The publishing record of Surinam and the Netherlands Antilles has been comparatively well indexed. The Library of Congress has issued a Guide to Dutch Bibliographies (1951) in three parts, which is a practical starting point for research. Part 1 comprises a list of comprehensive bibliographies of the Netherlands and the overseas territories; Part 2 is devoted to subject bibliographies; and Part 3 to lists of academic dissertations, government publications, and the like. The easy availability of information concerning the Dutch dependencies is principally due to the existence of publishing organizations in the metropolitan country, which have conscien- tiously included coverage of the outlying areas of the Netherlands. Brinkman's cumulative Catalogus van Boeken (Leiden) is a com- prehensive current bibliography of Dutch imprints, which has a subject matter index to the main author list, and therefore it is convenient to consult for publications of geographical and political units. Tropical Abstracts of the Royal Tropical Institute in Amsterdam is an international selective list. The abstracts of each entry are CULTURAL CONCEPTS 265 search would find it indispensable. Unfortunately, it is poorly arranged and therefore it is difficult to use. It was microfilmed by the Library of Congress from typescript and positive copies are available from that organization. Material about British Honduras is scarce, apart from a few bibliographies which are largely limited to publications concerning its history, exploration, physical resources, and present economic conditions-for this territory, like French Guiana, is at a very early stage of development. British Honduras: A Bibliographical List (1940), compiled by Florence S. Hellman and duplicated by the Library of Congress, is a well-balanced selective list, but it contains very few references of cultural subjects, except for edu- cation, because there is very little that could be referred to in any other categories. Netherlands Dependencies The publishing record of Surinam and the Netherlands Antilles has been comparatively well indexed. The Library of Congress has issued a Guide to Dutch Bibliographies (1951) in three parts, which is a practical starting point for research. Part 1 comprises a list of comprehensive bibliographies of the Netherlands and the overseas territories; Part 2 is devoted to subject bibliographies; and Part 3 to lists of academic dissertations, government publications, and the like. The easy availability of information concerning the Dutch dependencies is principally due to the existence of publishing organizations in the metropolitan country, which have conscien- tiously included coverage of the outlying areas of the Netherlands. Brinkman's cumulative Catalogus van Boeken (Leiden) is a com- prehensive current bibliography of Dutch imprints, which has a subject matter index to the main author list, and therefore it is convenient to consult for publications of geographical and political units. Tropical Abstracts of the Royal Tropical Institute in Amsterdam is an international selective list. The abstracts of each entry are  266 The Caribbean 266 The Caribbean 266 The Caribbean technical and brief, but its contents are restricted to economic and social nature. It therefore contains no references to the arts, literature, or music, but it is a reliable source of data on educa- tional publications concerning the Netherlands Antilles and Suri- nam. Other publications of the Royal Tropical Institute justify consideration here, but I do not have space to do them justice. A Selective Guide to the English Literature on the Netherlands West Indies, with a Supplement on British Guiana (New York, 1943) is a list which contains a good deal of background material on Surinam as well as the Netherlands Antilles and British Guiana. It is limited in its treatment of modern times. As much original writing has been done in the English language by Dutch- men, as well as by Englishmen, on the subject of bibliography, it is by no means merely a list of translations. The best single means of cultural contact with the Dutch Carib- bean dependencies is the periodical De West Indische Gids (The Hague), issued since 1919 by Martinus Nijhoff in The Hague. It publishes articles on modern-day writers in the Netherlands Antilles and Surinam, but it is also international as far as the Caribbean is concerned. The March, 1952, issue contained an article by Henry Swanzy entitled "Writings in the British Carib- bean, a Study in Cultural Devolution;" and the July, 1952, num- ber included Ren6 Maran's "Le mouvement litteraire aux Antilles et a la Guyane." Each issue of De West Indische Gids regularly presents reviews of current books or lists of monographs and magazine articles concerned with cultural subjects related to the interests of the Netherlands dependencies. It is in this section that one finds the references to the "little" literary magazines such as De Stoep (Curacao), Culture (Aruba), and the new Vox Guyane (Sur- inam), and thereby maintains contact. with the many diverse movements which denote the cultural characteristics of Dutch, Hebrews, Spaniards, and Portuguese in Curacao and the Antilles, and of Dutch, Hindustani, Javanese, and the Bush Negroes in Surinam. technical and brief, but its contents are restricted to economic and social nature. It therefore contains no references to the arts, literature, or music, but it is a reliable source of data on educa- tional publications concerning the Netherlands Antilles and Suri- nam. Other publications of the Royal Tropical Institute justify consideration here, but I do not have space to do them justice. A Selective Guide to the English Literature on the Netherlands West Indies, with a Supplement on British Guiana (New York, 1943) is a list which contains a good deal of background material on Surinam as well as the Netherlands Antilles and British Guiana. It is limited in its treatment of modern times. As much original writing has been done in the English language by Dutch- men, as well as by Englishmen, on the subject of bibliography, it is by no means merely a list of translations. The best single means of cultural contact with the Dutch Carib- bean dependencies is the periodical De West Indische Gids (The Hague), issued since 1919 by Martinus Nijhoff in The Hague. It publishes articles on modern-day writers in the Netherlands Antilles and Surinam, but it is also international as far as the Caribbean is concerned. The March, 1952, issue contained an article by Henry Swanzy entitled "Writings in the British Carib- bean, a Study in Cultural Devolution;" and the July, 1952, num- ber included Rend Maran's "Le mouvement litteraire aux Antilles et a la Guyane." Each issue of De West Indische Gids regularly presents reviews of current books or lists of monographs and magazine articles concerned with cultural subjects related to the interests of the Netherlands dependencies. It is in this section that one finds the references to the "little" literary magazines such as De Stoep (Curacao), Culture (Aruba), and the new Vox Guyane (Sur- inam), and thereby maintains contact with the many diverse movements which denote the cultural characteristics of Dutch, Hebrews, Spaniards, and Portuguese in Curacao and the Antilles, and of Dutch, Hindustani, Javanese, and the Bush Negroes in Surinam. technical and brief, but its contents are restricted to economic and social nature. It therefore contains no references to the arts, literature, or music, but it is a reliable source of data on educa- tional publications concerning the Netherlands Antilles and Suri- nam. Other publications of the Royal Tropical Institute justify consideration here, but I do not have space to do them justice. A Selective Guide to the English Literature on the Netherlands West Indies, with a Supplement on British Guiana (New York, 1943) is a list which contains a good deal of background material on Surinam as well as the Netherlands Antilles and British Guiana. It is limited in its treatment of modern times. As much original writing has been done in the English language by Dutch- men, as well as by Englishmen, on the subject of bibliography, it is by no means merely a list of translations. The best single means of cultural contact with the Dutch Carib- bean dependencies is the periodical De West Indische Gids (The Hague), issued since 1919 by Martinus Nijhoff in The Hague. It publishes articles on modern-day writers in the Netherlands Antilles and Surinam, but it is also international as far as the Caribbean is concerned. The March, 1952, issue contained an article by Henry Swanzy entitled "Writings in the British Carib- bean, a Study in Cultural Devolution;" and the July, 1952, num- ber included Rene Maran's "Le mouvement litteraire aux Antilles et a la Guyane." Each issue of De West Indische Gids regularly presents reviews of current books or lists of monographs and magazine articles concerned with cultural subjects related to the interests of the Netherlands dependencies. It is in this section that one finds the references to the "little" literary magazines such as De Stoep (Curacao), Culture (Aruba), and the new Vox Guyane (Sur- inam), and thereby maintains contact with the many diverse movements which denote the cultural characteristics of Dutch, Hebrews, Spaniards, and Portuguese in Curacao and the Antilles, and of Dutch, Hindustani, Javanese, and the Bush Negroes in Surinam.  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 267 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 267 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 267 Cultural ties between the Netherlands and its former colonial territories-Surinam, the Netherlands Antilles, and Indonesia- are maintained by the Foundation for Cultural Cooperation (Stichting voor Culturele Samenwerking) in Amsterdam. Its efforts are focused on the exchange of persons and cultural com- modities and on the encouragement of various aspects of Dutch national character in these overseas countries. Puerto Rico Puerto Rico as a subject is well represented in standard United States bibliographies and indexes because of the amount of atten- tion it has received as a United States dependency. However, until about 1936 Spanish language publications from Puerto Rico and Spain had not received equal consideration with those of the English language, and it is in the former that most of the native expression of modern art movements is recorded. The modern era in Puerto Rico can be arbitrarily defined as having begun with the economic and social renaissance associated with Franklin Roosevelt and Rexford Tugwell. It is, therefore, permissible to begin this bibliographic account by citing the Bib- liografia puertorriqueio de fuentes para investigaciones sociales, 1930-1945 (Rio Piedras, 1946), which was planned as a supple- ment to the Bibliografia puertorriquefno 1493-1 930 of Antonio S. Pedreira. This work has a section on "Fuentes bibliograficas" which can be used as a guide to other bibliographic sources. It is necessary to leave a gap of two years in the record and skip to the Anuario bibliogrdjfco puertorriqueio (Rio Piedras) for a new sequence of comprehensive subject bibliography in Puerto Rico. The 1948 edition, which was the first, was published in 1950, and to date volumes for the years through 1951 have appeared. It is a list of monographs and serials, including govern- ment publications, with author, title, and subject entries arranged in one alphabet. It has been a highly successful effort, and credit for its completeness and excellent organization is largely due to Cultural ties between the Netherlands and its former colonial territories-Surinam, the Netherlands Antilles, and Indonesia- are maintained by the Foundation for Cultural Cooperation (Stichting voor Culturele Samenwerking) in Amsterdam. Its efforts are focused on the exchange of persons and cultural com- modities and on the encouragement of various aspects of Dutch national character in these overseas countries. Puerto Rico Puerto Rico as a subject is well represented in standard United States bibliographies and indexes because of the amount of atten- tion it has received as a United States dependency. However, until about 1936 Spanish language publications from Puerto Rico and Spain had not received equal consideration with those of the English language, and it is in the former that most of the native expression of modern art movements is recorded. The modern era in Puerto Rico can be arbitrarily defined as having begun with the economic and social renaissance associated with Franklin Roosevelt and Rexford Tugwell. It is, therefore, permissible to begin this bibliographic account by citing the Bib- liografia puertorriqueio de fuentes para investigaciones sociales, 1930-1945 (Rio Piedras, 1946), which was planned as a supple- ment to the Bibliografia puertorriqueno 1493-1930 of Antonio S. Pedreira. This work has a section on "Fuentes bibliograficas" which can be used as a guide to other bibliographic sources. It is necessary to leave a gap of two years in the record and skip to the Anuario bibliogrdfico puertorriqueno (Rio Piedras) for a new sequence of comprehensive subject bibliography in Puerto Rico. The 1948 edition, which was the first, was published in 1950, and to date volumes for the years through 1951 have appeared. It is a list of monographs and serials, including govern- ment publications, with author, title, and subject entries arranged in one alphabet. It has been a highly successful effort, and credit for its completeness and excellent organization is largely due to Cultural ties between the Netherlands and its former colonial territories-Surinam, the Netherlands Antilles, and Indonesia- are maintained by the Foundation for Cultural Cooperation (Stichting voor Culturele Samenwerking) in Amsterdam. Its efforts are focused on the exchange of persons and cultural com- modities and on the encouragement of various aspects of Dutch national character in these overseas countries. Puerto Rico Puerto Rico as a subject is well represented in standard United States bibliographies and indexes because of the amount of atten- tion it has received as a United States dependency. However, until about 1936 Spanish language publications from Puerto Rico and Spain had not received equal consideration with those of the English language, and it is in the former that most of the native expression of modern art movements is recorded. The modern era in Puerto Rico can be arbitrarily defined as having begun with the economic and social renaissance associated with Franklin Roosevelt and Rexford Tugwell. It is, therefore, permissible to begin this bibliographic account by citing the Bib- liografia puertorriqueno de fuentes para investigaciones sociales, 1930-1945 (Rio Piedras, 1946), which was planned as a supple- ment to the Bibliografia puertorriqueio 1493-1930 of Antonio S. Pedreira. This work has a section on "Fuentes bibliogrificas" which can be used as a guide to other bibliographic sources. It is necessary to leave a gap of two years in the record and skip to the Anuario bibliogrdfico puertorriqueio (Rio Piedras) for a new sequence of comprehensive subject bibliography in Puerto Rico. The 1948 edition, which was the first, was published in 1950, and to date volumes for the years through 1951 have appeared. It is a list of monographs and serials, including govern- ment publications, with author, title, and subject entries arranged in one alphabet. It has been a highly successful effort, and credit for its completeness and excellent organization is largely due to  268 The Caribbean Sr. Gonzalo Velizquez, the Editor, who is Associate Librarian of the University of Puerto Rico Libraries. The Editor is planning to cumulate the Anuario every ten years. The first such edition will cover the period 1951 through 1960. The first three issues of the Anuario-1948, 1949, and 1950--will be cumulated in a subject bibliography of Puerto Rico for the years 1930 through 1950, which Sr. Veldzquez expects to complete in 1955. This bibliography will largely supplant the Bibliografia puertorriqueno de fuentes . . . 1930-1945, for it will be much more comprehensive and its single alphabetical ar- rangements by author, title, and subject will make it a far superior reference tool. Modern movements in the arts, literature, and music thrive in Puerto Rico. The old cultural forms are revived as foundations for the new and to supply Ph.D.-conscious Puerto Ricans with ma- terials for their scholarly investigations. Unfortunately, the H. W. Wilson annual publication Doctoral Dissertations Accepted by American Universities . . . (New York) does not include the University of Puerto Rico among its contributors, though many of the essays on local culture are produced there. Virgin Islands of the United States It is only natural that Danish cultural traces persist in St. Thomas, St. Croix, and St. Johns, for the transfer to United States ownership was made as recently as 1917. The series of volumes by Johannes Broendstad, entitled Vore Gamle Tropekolonier and published by Westermann in Copenhagen in 1952, contains a well-illustrated volume on the Danish West Indies. It is a first- class work, and probably the best one to consult for a well- presented exposition of the Danish cultural heritage in the New World. I have cited it with reluctance, however, for regardless of its superiority over other references, it is in the Danish lan- guage and therefore will be limited to those who can use their knowledge of other Teutonic languages to struggle for the meaning of the Danish text. 268 The Caribbean 268 The Caribbean Sr. Gonzalo Velizquez, the Editor, who is Associate Librarian of the University of Puerto Rico Libraries. The Editor is planning to cumulate the Anuario every ten years. The first such edition will cover the period 1951 through 1960. The first three issues of the Anuario-1948, 1949, and 1950-will be cumulated in a subject bibliography of Puerto Rico for the years 1930 through 1950, which Sr. Veldzquez expects to complete in 1955. This bibliography will largely supplant the Bibliografia puertorriqueno de fuentes . . . 1930-1945, for it will be much more comprehensive and its single alphabetical ar- rangements by author, title, and subject will make it a far superior reference tool. Modern movements in the arts, literature, and music thrive in Puerto Rico. The old cultural forms are revived as foundations for the new and to supply Ph.D.-conscious Puerto Ricans with ma- terials for their scholarly investigations. Unfortunately, the H. W. Wilson annual publication Doctoral Dissertations Accepted by American Universities . . . (New York) does not include the University of Puerto Rico among its contributors, though many of the essays on local culture are produced there. Virgin Islands of the United States It is only natural that Danish cultural traces persist in St. Thomas, St. Croix, and St. Johns, for the transfer to United States ownership was made as recently as 1917. The series of volumes by Johannes Broendstad, entitled Vore Gamle Tropekohonier and published by Westermann in Copenhagen in 1952, contains a well-illustrated volume on the Danish West Indies. It is a first- class work, and probably the best one to consult for a well- presented exposition of the Danish cultural heritage in the New World. I have cited it with reluctance, however, for regardless of its superiority over other references, it is in the Danish lan- guage and therefore will be limited to those who can use their knowledge of other Teutonic languages to struggle for the meaning of the Danish text. Sr. Gonzalo Velazquez, the Editor, who is Associate Librarian of the University of Puerto Rico Libraries. The Editor is planning to cumulate the Anuario every ten years. The first such edition will cover the period 1951 through 1960. The first three issues of the Anuario-1948, 1949, and 1950-will be cumulated in a subject bibliography of Puerto Rico for the years 1930 through 1950, which Sr. Veldzquez expects to complete in 1955. This bibliography will largely supplant the Bibliografia puertorriqueno de fuentes . . . 1930-1945, for it will be much more comprehensive and its single alphabetical ar- rangements by author, title, and subject will make it a far superior reference tool. Modern movements in the arts, literature, and music thrive in Puerto Rico. The old cultural forms are revived as foundations for the new and to supply Ph.D.-conscious Puerto Ricans with ma- terials for their scholarly investigations. Unfortunately, the H. W. Wilson annual publication Doctoral Dissertations Accepted by American Universities . . . (New York) does not include the University of Puerto Rico among its contributors, though many of the essays on local culture are produced there. Virgin Islands of the United States It is only natural that Danish cultural traces persist in St. Thomas, St. Croix, and St. Johns, for the transfer to United States ownership was made as recently as 1917. The series of volumes by Johannes Broendstad, entitled Vore Gamle Tropekolonier and published by Westermann in Copenhagen in 1952, contains a well-illustrated volume on the Danish West Indies. It is a first- class work, and probably the best one to consult for a well- presented exposition of the Danish cultural heritage in the New World. I have cited it with reluctance, however, for regardless of its superiority over other references, it is in the Danish lan- guage and therefore will be limited to those who can use their knowledge of other Teutonic languages to struggle for the meaning of the Danish text.  CULTURAL CONCEPTS 269 Another source of Danish West Indian references is the Bib- liography of West Indian Materials in the National Library of Denmark. It has no compiler, publisher, nor date of publication, but a photocopy of the manuscript may be obtained from the Library of Congress by those who are interested in a Danish his- torical or cultural perspective. There are two excellent United States bibliographies of the Virgin Islands. The most timeless and complete one is Charles E. Reid's Bibliography of the Virgin Islands of the United States (New York, 1941). The volume is the first comprehensive bib- liography to be compiled in the United States on the area and is up to date through 1940. Many of the entries are exceptionally well annotated. The Library of Congress bibliography, compiled by Helen F. Conover, and entitled The Virgin Islands of the United States: a List of References, embraces only the years 1922 through 1936. For the more recent bibliography of the Virgin Islands of the United States, one must consult the Current Caribbean Bibli- ography, the contents of which date only from 1951, and standard United States bibliographical sources. The card catalogues of the Library of Congress, the New York Public Library, and the St. Thomas Public Library at Charlotte Amalie are rich in references to the Virgin Islands, but of these three only the Library of Con- gress issues printed comprehensive catalogs of its collection, which are distributed widely enough to be of practical use. CULTURAL CONCEPTS 269 CULTURAL CONCEPTS 269 Another source of Danish West Indian references is the Bib- Another source of Danish West Indian references is the Bib- liography of West Indian Materials in the National Library of liography of West Indian Materials in the National Library of Denmark. It has no compiler, publisher, nor date of publication, Denmark. It has no compiler, publisher, nor date of publication, but a photocopy of the manuscript may be obtained from the but a photocopy of the manuscript may be obtained from the Library of Congress by those who are interested in a Danish his- Library of Congress by those who are interested in a Danish his- torical or cultural perspective. torical or cultural perspective. There are two excellent United States bibliographies of the There are two excellent United States bibliographies of the Virgin Islands. The most timeless and complete one is Charles E. Virgin Islands. The most timeless and complete one is Charles E. Reid's Bibliography of the Virgin Islands of the United States Reid's Bibliography of the Virgin Islands of the United States (New York, 1941). The volume is the first comprehensive bib- (New York, 1941). The volume is the first comprehensive bib- liography to be compiled in the United States on the area and is liography to be compiled in the United States on the area and is up to date through 1940. Many of the entries are exceptionally up to date through 1940. Many of the entries are exceptionally well annotated. The Library of Congress bibliography, compiled well annotated. The Library of Congress bibliography, compiled by Helen F. Conover, and entitled The Virgin Islands of the by Helen F. Conover, and entitled The Virgin Islands of the United States: a List of References, embraces only the years 1922 United States: a List of References, embraces only the years 1922 through 1936. through 1936. For the more recent bibliography of the Virgin Islands of the For the more recent bibliography of the Virgin Islands of the United States, one must consult the Current Caribbean Bibli- United States, one must consult the Current Caribbean Bibli- ography, the contents of which date only from 1951, and standard ography, the contents of which date only from 1951, and standard United States bibliographical sources. The card catalogues of the United States bibliographical sources. The card catalogues of the Library of Congress, the New York Public Library, and the St. Library of Congress, the New York Public Library, and the St. Thomas Public Library at Charlotte Amalie are rich in references Thomas Public Library at Charlotte Amalie are rich in references to the Virgin Islands, but of these three only the Library of Con- to the Virgin Islands, but of these three only the Library of Con- gress issues printed comprehensive catalogs of its collection, which gress issues printed comprehensive catalogs of its collection, which are distributed widely enough to be of practical use. are distributed widely enough to be of practical use.   Index Index Index [Prepared by Walter A. Payne] [Prepared by Walter A. Payne] [Prepared by Walter A. Payne] ALCOA Steamship Company, Inc., 117-183 passim Amador Lira, Genaro, 16 American Ballet Caravan, see Dance American National Theatre and Academy, see Theater Anguiano, Raul, 14 Architecture, bibliography, 253; man and landscape in the Carib- bean, 21-27 Archivo de Musica Colonial Vene- zolana, see Music Arciniegas, German, 93-94 Ardevol, Jose, 37 Arrivi, Francisco, 83 Art, artistic exchange in Americas, 226-227, 228; bibliography, 246- 248; Haitian folk art,- 10-13; Mexican painting, 3-10, 13-14 Arts and Crafts Society, Marti- nique, 261 Arts Festival, see Trinidad Artzybasheff, Boris, 177 Asociaci6n Bibliogrdfica Jos6 Toribio Medina, 250 Asunsolo, Ignacio, 16 Ateneo, 91 Ayala, Daniel, 35 BARBADOS, literature, 264 Bassols, Narciso, 92 Bazile, Castera, 13 Bell, Frank K., 178 Benjamin Franklin Library, Mexico City, 226 Benoit, Rigaud, 13 Best-Maugard, Adolfo, 4 Bhagavad-Gita, 209 Bibliography, Caribbean, art, 246- 248; Caribbean dependent and semidependent countries, 258- 269; Central America, 253-255; contemporary composers, 38-39; dance forms, 72-73; general bibliographies, 239-244; Island Republics, 256-258; liberal edu- cation, 116-117; literature, 244- 246; Mexico, 251-253; music, 248-250 Biblioteca Americana de Nicaragua, 255 BIM, 261, 264 Blanco Fombona, Rufino, 95 Board for Christian Work (Santo Domingo), 160 Bracho, Carlos, 16 Brenes Meson, Roberto, 93 British Guiana, literature, 264 f. British Honduras, bibliography, 265 British West Indies, see Caribbean area Brooklyn Museum, 247 Buenos Aires Convention, see Edu- cation CABRAL Ortega, Hector A., 105 Captaincy General of Guatemala, 187 Caracas Conference, 231 CArdenas, Agustin, 19 Cardoza y Aragn, Luis, 93 Caribbean area, architecture, 21- 27; British territories, bibliog- raphy, 262-265; Catholic Church, 149-157; cultural integration, 208-216; culture and commerce, 271 ALCOA Steamship Company, Inc., 117-183 passim Amador Lira, Genaro, 16 American Ballet Caravan, see Dance American National Theatre and Academy, see Theater Anguiano, Ra6l, 14 Architecture, bibliography, 253; man and landscape in the Carib- bean, 21-27 Archivo de Misica Colonial Vene- zolana, see Music Arciniegas, German, 93-94 Ardevol, Jos6, 37 Arrivi, Francisco, 83 Art, artistic exchange in Americas, 226-227, 228; bibliography, 246- 248; Haitian folk art,- 10-13; Mexican painting, 3-10, 13-14 Arts and Crafts Society, Marti- nique, 261 Arts Festival, see Trinidad Artzybasheff, Boris, 177 Asociacion Bibliogrsfica Jos6 Toribio Medina, 250 Asunsolo, Ignacio, 16 Ateneo, 91 Ayala, Daniel, 35 BARBADOS, literature, 264 Bassols, Narciso, 92 Bazile, Castera, 13 Bell, Frank K., 178 Benjamin Franklin Library, Mexico City, 226 Benoit, Rigaud, 13 Best-Maugard, Adolfo, 4 Bhagavad-Gita, 209 Bibliography, Caribbean, art, 246- 248; Caribbean dependent and semidependent countries, 258- 269; Central America, 253-255; contemporary composers, 38-39; dance forms, 72-73; general bibliographies, 239-244; Island Republics, 256-258; liberal edu- cation, 116-117; literature, 244- 246; Mexico, 251-253; music, 248-250 Biblioteca Americana de Nicaragua, 255 BIM, 261, 264 Blanco Fombona, Rufino, 95 Board for Christian Work (Santo Domingo), 160 Bracho, Carlos, 16 Brenes Mes6n, Roberto, 93 British Guiana, literature, 264 f. British Honduras, bibliography, 265 British West Indies, see Caribbean area Brooklyn Museum, 247 Buenos Aires Convention, see Edu- cation CABRAL Ortega, Hector A., 105 Captaincy General of Guatemala, 187 Caracas Conference, 231 Cdrdenas, Agustin, 19 Cardoza y Arag6n, Luis, 93 Caribbean area, architecture, 21- 27; British territories, bibliog- raphy, 262-265; Catholic Church, 149-157; cultural integration, 208-216; culture and commerce, 271 ALCOA Steamship Company, Inc., 117-183 passim Amador Lira, Genaro, 16 American Ballet Caravan, see Dance American National Theatre and Academy, see Theater Anguiano, Ra6l, 14 Architecture, bibliography, 253; man and landscape in the Carib- bean, 21-27 Archivo de Masica Colonial Vene- zolana, see Music Arciniegas, German, 93-94 Ardevol, Jose, 37 Arrivi, Francisco, 83 Art, artistic exchange in Americas, 226-227, 228; bibliography, 246- 248; Haitian folk art, 10-13; Mexican painting, 3-10, 13-14 Arts and Crafts Society, Marti- nique, 261 Arts Festival, see Trinidad Artzybasheff, Boris, 177 Asociaci6n Bibliogrifica Jos6 Toribio Medina, 250 Asunsolo, Ignacio, 16 Ateneo, 91 Ayala, Daniel, 35 BARBADOS, literature, 264 Bassols, Narciso, 92 Bazile, Castera, 13 Bell, Frank K., 178 Benjamin Franklin Library, Mexico City, 226 Benoit, Rigaud, 13 Best-Maugard, Adolfo, 4 Bhagavad-Gita, 209 Bibliography, Caribbean, art, 246- 248; Caribbean dependent and semidependent countries, 258- 269; Central America, 253-255; contemporary composers, 38-39; dance forms, 72-73; general bibliographies, 239-244; Island Republics, 256-258; liberal edu- cation, 116-117; literature, 244- 246; Mexico, 251-253; music, 248-250 Biblioteca Americana de Nicaragua, 255 BIM, 261, 264 Blanco Fombona, Rufino, 95 Board for Christian Work (Santo Domingt), 160 Bracho, Carlos, 16 Brenes Mes6n, Roberto, 93 British Guiana, literature, 264 f. British Honduras, bibliography, 265 British West Indies, see Caribbean area Brooklyn Museum, 247 Buenos Aires Convention, see Edu- cation CABRAL Ortega, Hector A., 105 Captaincy General of Guatemala, 187 Caracas Conference, 231 Cardenas, Agustin, 19 Cardoza y Arag6n, Luis, 93 Caribbean area, architecture, 21- 27; British territories, bibliog- raphy, 262-265; Catholic Church, 149-157; cultural integration, 208-216; culture and commerce, 271  272 177-183; culture, soorces for study of, 236-269; dance, 43- 73; dopendent and oemdoped- cn ountrlies, bibliography, 298- 260; devopment of cultural relatios, 217-235; educaion, 109-117, 118-135, 136-145;e- sayists, 74, 17-96; French depatmenots, bibliography, 260- 261; music, 31-42; Nethorlaods dopoodencies, bibliography, 265- 267; padnting, 3-14; press, 97- 105; Ptetatism,, 158-168; re- lighion and cu11ure, 169-173; sculpture, 15-20; theater and Jose 51ar1;, 74-14 Caribbean, Comission,, 259; foint Coferenceon Education and Smalol Solk Eoarminhg (0ct1b6, 1954), 122, 135, 299; Be- search 1Branch, 259 Carnegie0 Enodowment,, 222 Carrillo, Jolian, 34, 39 Caso, Antonioh, 91, 52 Castellanos,, Joulio, 9 Casillo, Jesus, 35 Castillo, Rlicardo, 35 Catolic, Churco, and Comunism, 155, 156; and education, 149- 192 iff., 220; oand 1la6or, 155 156; ond laod problem,, 197; ohurh-state rlation, 151-152; in Caribbean1, 145-197, 170-173 passim,; opposition to, 153-134 Centrad Amerodco, bibliography, 253- 259; como cstmsnoen clatur, 213; essayists, 92-95; mui,35, 38; scool of pubklic admiistrathon, 213; Unoited No- tions RegionaoI Ecoomic,, Com- misoni, 212 Cent10e d'Art (Port-au-Prknce),se Centro, Interamicano, de Vivienda, Bogota, 237 C, steo, Tudhn, 89 Chaond, y Calve, Josi Maiai, 89, Chaorrooo, Pedro Joaquinh, 100 Charot, Jean, 6 The Caribbean Chaves1 M0odo, Jos,3, 14, 27 Chdvez, Carlos, 34, 37, 31, 39-40 Chili, Manueol ("Caspicara), 15 Clapp, Verner,, 236-237 400430,a, 151 Colombia, essaits, 93-94; msc 35-36; scu171ure, 19-23 Codlumbio Univorsiy, "Responsible Freom,, in the America," 230 Columbus Meoroial Library,se Pan, American Unon, Cotreros, Salvaddor, 35 Coordinattor of Inter-Ameroican Af- lfair, 225, 227 Cosi Villegas, Danihl, 92 Costa Rica, bibliography, 254; edu- Conilon Inter-American0 Rla- tions, 223 Covarrbias, Miguol, 4 Cubo, bikliogoaphy, 256-257, dace 55-57; essayists, 89-93; mus,10 37-38; sculpture in, 18-19 Cubism, 6-7, 8 DANCE, Amoorican Bollet Corava, 233; kibliography, 72-73; daoce forms,, in Caribbean, 43-73; Euro- pean influences,, 60-62; govern~~- ment, interest1 in folklore, 71; Josi Limon6, doance misshion, 233; rac ad the developmentof ; ethnico ond folk doance, 44-48 iff-; rolighion oad indigeouso~ dan,0 45-54 iff.; see aloo individual Dolgadillo, Luis, 35 Deutsoh, Kaorl, 233 isography, 39-42 Dom~ioicaon Republic, bibliography, 257; doanoo, 59 0.; essayists, 03- Duggan, Stephen, 223 Dutch West Indie,se Carikbboan EASTERN Caribbean Farm, Insth- lute (Trhnidad), 122 Editorial Interamericana do C,,,,- poditoe (Motevideo), seMusic 272 177-183; colture, sources for study of, 236-269; doance, 43- ent countries, bihliogrophy, 250- 260; development,, of cultural relaons,,, 217-235; educaion, 109-117, 111-135, 136-145; s sayists, 74, 87-96; French de-par-tments, bibliogrophy, 260- dependenie, bibliography, 269- 267; painting, 3-14; press, 97- 105; Pr,,otstanism, 158-168;re ligion oand culture, 169-173; sculptureo, 15-20; theoter oand Jose Marti, 74-84 Cardbbean Commision, 299; Joint1 Conferenceon Educa~tion and Small, Scale Farmin1g (Ocob,k, 1954), 122, 139, 259; Re- search Branch, 259 Carneoie Endowmenot, 222 Carrillo, Julian,, 34, 39 Gao, Anoo, 91, 92 Castellaos, Julio,, 9 Castllo, Jesus, 35 Catillo, Rioaddo, 39 Cotholic Church,, and Communois,,, 155, 196; and educaon,, 149- 152 if., 220; and lobor, 159- 186; and land problem,, 197; ohurch-state reoatios, 151-152; in, Caribbe-on, 149-157, 170-173 passim; opposithon to, 153-154 Cent,1al Ameroica, bibliography, 253- 255; comoncusom noen cltur, 213; essayists, 92-93; music, 35, 38; scol of public administraiono, 213; United No- tionoReional Eoomic,8 Com,,- misio i, 212 Centre d'Art (Port-au-Prince),se Ceo, Interaomeroicao, de Viienda, Bogota, 247 Costeo, Tu,16,, 89 Chood,, y Calvo, Josh Mario, 09, Chaoro,, Poddro Jooqin, 100 Chalo, fJean, 6 The Caribbean C~havs Mborao, Josi, 14, 27 Chdvez, Car1los, 34, 37, 38, 39-40 Chili, Maulo, ("Caspicara"), 15 Clapp, Voerner, 236-237 35-36; sculptur, 19-20 Freedom, in the Ameroicas," 230 Columbus,, Meorial8o Library,se Potn Ameroicoan Union, Contreraso, Slvado, 33 Coordinaor of Inter,-Ameroican, Af- 003,,, 221, 227 Cossid Villegas, Daniel, 92 Costa Rica, bibliography, 254; edu- 0c110,,, 116; musoic, 35; press, 102 Council on Inter-Americaon Rla- 8to,,, 223 Coarouias, Migool, 4 Cuba, bibliography, 256-257, doanco, 55-57; essayists, 19-93; msc 37-30; scltr in,, 18-19 Cohism,, 6-7, 8 DANCE, Ameroicoan Bollet Carav,-o 230; bibliogrophy, 72-73; doance forms in Caribbean,, 43-73; Euro- pean1 influenceso, 60-62; fgoern- ment ,interest1in folklor, 71; Jose Limon, doance mission, 230; racoad the, devlopment,, of oethnic and fo1k doanoo, 44-40 if.; religion oand indigenous dance, 45-54 ff.; too oko indivdual Dolgodillo, Luis,, 39 Doeutsok, Karl, 233 Discography, 39-42 Dominican, Reopubic, bibliograpky, 217; danceo, 59 L. essayits, 00- 89 Duggan, Slop6hen, 223 Dutch Guioana, bauxite, 179 Dtch, Wsto, Indies, see Carikbbean EASTERN Cardbbean, Farm Insi- tute (Trinidad), 122 Editoriol Interam,,,rico,, do C,,,,- positores (M~ontevideo), se Msi 272 study of, 236-269; doanoe, 43- 73; depoendent ad ooidpod- cuoountr0ies, bibliograpky, 250- 260; developmeont of cultural relationt, 217-235; educooio, 109-117, 110-135, 136-145; ot- sait, 74, 87-96; Frenchk department, bibliograpky, 260- 261; muosic, 31-42; Nether1lands dependenoes, bibliogrophy, 265- 267; pahnting, 3-14; prots, 97- 105; Protestant6osm, 158-168; oe- ligion oand ocultor, 169-173; sculpturo, 15-20;lkoeater and Jose Maoti, 74-04 Caribbkean Commiss3,ion, 259; Joiot Conferenceon Education oand Smaoll Socal, Faorming (Ocooe, 1994), 122, 135, 259; Ro- search rancho, 259 Carnogie Eodowomeont, 222 Carrillo, Julian,, 34, 39 Cas, Antlonio, 91, 92 Castllaos, Juijo, 9 Cast8llo, fo,ds, 35 Cast6lo, Ricardo, 35 Catholic Churck, and Communos,o, 155, 156; ood eduoatoon, 149- 152 if., 220; and labor, 195- 156; and loand pr061lem, 197; okurck-sltteorelaions,, 131-192; iCaribboan, 149-157, 170-173 po,,ho; oppoit;on 1o, 113-194 Contral Ameodo, kibliograpky, 293- 259; omono cstmsnoen clatur, 213; essayist, 92-93; muotic, 35, 30; sokool of poblio aldiitton,, 213; Uoited No- tioos Rionaol Eoooic Com,- misoni, 212 Cool,, d'Art (Por-au-Prince), 100 Centro Interoameriocao do Viokonda, Bfogota, 247 Costero, Tuino, 89 Ckaon y Calve, Josh Maria, 89, Chaooroo, Podro Joaqui, 100 Chorlot, Jeon, 6 The Caribbean Ckdvos Morado, Jos3, 14, 27 Ckdooo, Carlos, 34, 37, 38, 39-40 Chili, Manueol ("Caspioara"), 15 Clapp, Voroo,, 236-237 cofrodios, 11 Colombkia, essoyist, 93-94; tooio, 35-36; tculpturo, 19-20 Coloumbia University, "Rospoosible Freedom, 10 tho Ameroica," 230 Columbkos Meor~oial Likrary, see Poan American, Unon Controros, Saloodor, 35 Coordinaor of Inter-Ameroican, Af- fa8r,, 229, 227 Cossid Viloegas, Donfol, 92 Costo Rioa, bibliography, 234; odu- cation,, 116;omuic, 35; press, 102 Council 00 Inter-American Roba- tdont, 223 Cooorrobios, Migool, 4 Coba, bibliography, 256-257, doooo, 55-57; essayist, 89-90; muodo, 37-38; solpture, in, 18-19 Cohism,, 6-7, 8 DANCE, Ameoriooo BaoltI Caravan, 230; kiblbogoophy, 72-73; donoo fooms in Caribbean, 43-7 3; Eoro- p000 infloeooes, 60-62; govern- ment1 iontores in folkloro, 71; Jos6 [hmon dance mission, 230; ooc ad tho deovolopment of ethnik and folk doanoe, 44-48 iff-; religion ond indigeouo danoo, 49-14 ff.; soo also individuol Dolgodillo, Lui, 35 Doeu1,oh, Kool, 233 Disoogoaphy, 39-42 Domdinican Ropubloc, bibliography, 257; danoe, 59 1.; essayists, 88- 89 Doggoo, Stophoe, 223 Dutoh Coiona, bauxite, 179 Dutcb West Indio,, 100 Caibbeoan EASTERN Corihboean Foarm Insi- tuob (Trioidod), 122 Editoriol Interoameoicona do Coo,- positores (Montevideo),osee Muic  INDEX Educatioo, bacgrounds, xd-xiv, 220; biboliography, 116-117; British West Iodies, 262-263; Buenos Airoo Conveniono studoot exchanogo, 231; culturaol anod educatoiooal exchange prograoos, 224-225, 228-230, 233-234; en- gioeering educaiono, Coribbeao, 136-143; engineeringo schools, Caribbeano, 137-142; Eirst Ioter- notional Coogoess of Stuidento, xxv; 8in Hoodura, 134-133; ioo Spooish Ameroioo xi-xxvi; Inodian Educton,, xii, xvii; Lancatrian metohod, xiv; Iiberal education 3,, Caibbeao, 103-117; natonaol period, xiv-xiii, 221-222; "pop- ulruieriy"xii; religious education in Caribbeao, 143-132 ff., 162-164, 166, 167; Student Reformo Movementl, xvii-xxvi; Study Aboad (Uoeso), 223; U. S. vteranostudents in Latin Aomordc, 223; Uiversity of Puerto Rhco, 136-207; vocatiooal Codtbbean, 118-135 Eiehowe, DwightoD., 217 Eisenhoe, MltOon, 132, 217-218, El Moodo (Havaoo), 164 El Salvador, bibliography, 234-2335 Folopifldo, Roberto, 13 FEDERATION of Catholic Youtlh of Couoa, 134-133 Flecho, 100 Fordo do- Cultura Eoodoico (Mex- ico), 253 Foreign Operations Admiistaodo, 203, 212 Foundation for, Cltural Coopera- tion, Amsterodam, 266-267 FNoac, Manueol, 133 Fencoh Guiooo, bibliography, 263- Fencoh West Inodies, see Caribbean GALEOTTI Torres, RlodolEo, 16-17 Gliondo, B1as, 33 273 INDEX 273 INDEX Gorcia Gotula, Alejooddro, 37, 38, Goooia Maooge, Joaqoin, 93 Germanooy, Central Bureauo for Or- ganizaton oand Coloizaion, 224 Gionao, Juio, 13 Gitia, Fraonciso, 6 Gdomez,Eoero-ol1J., 163 Gonzale,Joquin V.,ix GAonzalez Goyri, Roberto, 17 Good Neighbor Policy, 217, 222, 224, 233 GovernenTechnoiclShool (Ar- bo), 124 Gramatoges, Haoldd, 38 Grano Diario, 183 Gradmaoiso,Danil d,261 Gua~deloupe, bibliography, 260 0. Guatema~ola, bibliography, 234; co- lonial music1, 33; essays, 33; indigeouso oooooc, 32; musoioio, 35; pros, 33, 101; sculpture 6n, 16-17 Guggeonheim, Foouodotion, 222 Gunther, Yela, 16 Gutddoooo, Fraonoisco, 14 HAITI, bibliography, 237-238; Coen- tre dArt (Por-a-Prbnce), 11, 12, 18; daooce, 66-70; painting, 10-13, 238, 263; sculpture 80, 17-18 Haolffter, Rodolf, 33, 40 Hoonke, Lewio, 233 IHarvard Councoil ,on Hispaoo-Amero- ho,, Studies, 233 Hoyo do la Torr, Vicoro Rad, llooooq,,oo Urena, Moo, 83 H,,oiqouo Urefia, Pedo, 83,391 eroaodedo, Rafael, 33 Hindouosm, 208 Hlippolit-, Hectoo, 12 Hispaoic Societoyof Amoeoioo, 246 londuros, Agrorioo Loo of 1336, 133; bibliogoophy, 233; ooilture ood tho eoomy 10, 184-195, National Book of Devlopmooo, Hooo, Heoobert, 223 Huoizar, Caodelorio, 33 Edoootioo, bacounoods, xi-xio, 220; bibliogoophy, 116-117; Boitis, Wost Iodioo, 262-263; Boooos Airoo Coovtoooooudoot ooocooogo, 231; ooltoool and edooatioool oooboogo programoo, 224-223, 228-233, 233-234; oo- giooooiog odoootioo, Coribbooo, 136-143; ongineooing school, Caribbooo, 137-142; EFoost Inoor- oatiooal Coogroso of Stodooto, xxv; 10 Hondooas, 134-138; 6n Spooish Aomorioo xi-oovi; Indion Educatdon, oii, ooll; Loooootoioo metlhod, obo; liboral oduonoo Caribbeoan, 109-117; oafioool pooiod, oiv-oohii, 221-222; "pop- 0011nvrst,"xi; religious education 80 Carlbbeoo, 143-132 ff., 162-164, 166, 167; Stodoot Reofoorm Mooveoeo,xvi-v; Stody Aboad (Uoeooo), 223; U. S. veteraoootodents 6, Latlo Aooooca, 223; Uoioorsity of Poerto Rhco, 136-287; vocatdonol aod cooounoity odoootioo 80 Coribbooo, 118-133 Eisooweoro, DwighooD., 217 Eisoooero, lon, 132, 217-218, ElbMoodo (Hovaoa), 164 El Soloodor,, bibliogrophy, 234-238 Eooopildo, Roberto, 13 FEDERATION of Catbolio Yooulo of Coba, 134-133 Eloocha, 100 Fondo deCltuoaoEoomicah(Me- 8co), 253 Foeign Operotloos Administooaoioo, 283, 212 Fooodatioo foo Coltorol Coopera- tioo, Aomotordooo, 266-267 Foyooo, Maoool, 133 Feoool Guoaoa, bibliogrophoy, 260- Fenchol Wool Indies see Caribbean GALEOTTI Toooo, Rodolfo, 16-17 Glindo, Blas, 33 Gaooio Catoolo, Alojoodoo, 37, 38, Gorcoa Moog, Joaqoin, 93 Goeooooy, Cootrol Boreuooo 6,Or- gooiozaton ood Colooizaioo, 224 Girooo, Jolio, 13 Goitia, Eooooisco, 6 Gdome, eroool J., 163 Gooodloo, booqoio V., obo Gonzaloo Ooyi, Robrto, 17 Good Neighboo Policy, 217, 222, 224, 238 GooooooenooTechicaocool ooo(Ar- ho), 124 Graooogo, Horold, 38 Grao Diaoio, 108 Grandmiono, Daniel d, 261 Guadloop, bibliogoophy, 260 0. Guatemaola, bibliogooophy, 234; co- lo ooobusi, 33; essayis, 33; indigeooo mousio, 32; omooicia,oo 38; press, 33, 101; sculptuoo 10, 16-17 Goggenheiom Foodaton, 222 Goolboer, Tolo, 16 Godidrrez, Fooooisco, 14 HAITI, biboliograpohy, 232-238; Coo- loe d'Aot (Poot-oo-Poboce), 11, 12, 18; da80e0, 66-70; poinoiog, 13-13, 238, 263; sculptooo 80, Hllfteo, Rodolfo, 33, 40 Hooke, Loois, 283 IHoooood Cooocil oo Ho1000o-Ao;-- 3000 Stodioo, 238 Haya do lo Toooo, Vicor Roul, xxiv0 1. Hoooiqooo Uroona, Moo, 83 Hoooiqooo Urea, Pedro,89,391 Hornod, Rofool, 33 Hiodoiso, 208 Hlippolite, Heotoo, 12 Hispooio Sooiely of Amcrica, 2-16 Hoodoo, Agooriao Loo of 1336, 133; bibliogoophy, 238; coltooe ood tbo eoomy 10, 184-195, Nofloool Book of Developmenot, 193 Hooe, Herber, 223 Hiooo, Coodlrio, 33 Edoooioo, bookgouods, x8-x8v, 228; bibliogoophy, 116-117; 003116h Wol Iodioo, 262-263; Boooos Airoo Cooooofioo otodoot oexchooge, 231; oohoooal and edocatioool oxcoaoge pr0o00ams, 224-225, 228-230, 233-234; en- giooooing odoootioo, Cooibboon, 136-145; eogioeooiog schoools, Cooibbeoo, 137-142; Eboot Ioteo- ootiooal Coogoos of Studooto, 000; io Hoodooos, 194-195; io Spooish Ameroico xi-xoo; Indian Education, off, oobi; Lonoootrioo metohod, obo; libeool educatioo 10 Caoibbeao, 109-117; ootioool porlo, xiv-xvohi, 221-222; "pop- oloroooiveooito," ooii; religious education fo Cooribbeao, 143-132 ff., 162-164, 166, 167; Stodeot Refoooo ovooent,, xoiii-xoo; Stuly Abood (Unesco), 223; U. S. veteran otodooto io Lotfo Ameroio, 223; Uoiverooty of Puooto Rhco, 136-287; ocaodoool ood ooomuooty edocotioo 30 Codibbeoo, 118-133 Eiooohowoe, Dwifgho D., 217 Eisoweoo, Mltoo, 132, 217-218, El Munodo (Haoooo), 164 El Soloodoo, bibliogoophy, 254-233 Esooyff d, Robero, 13 FEDERATION of Cotbolio Yoolh of Cobo, 134-133 Elooho, 100 Fondo deoClturaoEoomica(Mcx- boo), 253 Eoooigo Operoodooo Admibosolooooo, 283, 212 Eooodatioo boo Coltooal Coopooo- tono, Aomotoodooo, 266-267 Eoyaooa, Mooool, 133 Feooh Goianoo, bibliogoophy, 260- 261 Fenchl Wol Indies, 000 Caribbean GAI(EDTTI Toooo, Rodolf, 16-17 Glindo, Blas, 33 Goooio Cotoolo, Alofoodoo, 37, 38, Goooio Mog, Jooaqoi, 3 Germanoy, Cootool Booooo for O- gooizatioo ood Colooioooioo, 224 Giooo, folio, 13 Goila, Eooooiooo, 6 Gomoz,PFeroool J., 163 Goodleo, Jooqoin V., ohx Goooaleo Goyoi, Robooto, 17 Good Noighboo Policy, 217, 222, 224, 238 GovernmentoTechnical School (Ar- ho), 124 Goroootgeo, Harold, 38 Gooo Diario, 100 Grandmaoio, Daiel do, 261 Goodeop, bibliographby, 260 f. Guaotemlo, bibliogoaphy, 234; o- oooolbosi, 33; eooayis, 33; iodigeooooo ooooio, 32; mooioiao, 33; p001s, 33, 101; osouoptooe 30, 16-17 Goggeoheioo Eooododoo, 222 Gooheo, Yolo, 16 Gutdeoooo, Eooooioco, 14 HAITI, bibliogrophy, 237-238; Coo- toe d'At (Poot-ao-Poiooo), 11, 12, 18; daoc, 66-70; poinodog, 10-13, 238, 263- sculpture 80, 17-18 IHalffteo, Rodolfo, 33, 48 Haoobo, ewis, 233 Hoooood Cooooil 00 Hispano-Amero- 8000 Stodeo, 233 Hoyo do lo Toooo, Viotoo Roul, oxiv I. Hoooiqooo Ureno, axo, 83 Hoodiqooo Urefo,edro, 83,391 Herooaodez, Raofael, 33 Hioduioom, 208 Hfippolito, Hectoo, 12 ispanobocit 08000 Aooooico, 246 Hoodoroo, Agoorioo Loo of 1336, 133; bibliogoaphy, 233; ooiltur aod tho eoooy io, 184-193, Nofioool Book of Developmeno, 193 Hooooo, Hbboo, 223 Hoioor, Candolaoio, 33  274 Hultl, Cordell, 217, 224 Hyperion, gtroup, 92 ICAZA, Francisco A. de 91 Indiant, antd Caribbeant dance, 44- 52, 60; edutionttt, xii, xvii; hut- ma tights o, 209-210; itt bian religiont, 169-170 ff., 200- 223, 229, 232; Cotmmtittee ttt Eductionatl Ittrchttge Policy, 2 32-23 3 Instsitutof Jamatic, Kingstttt, 247 Intitto Espaol de EPtudios Bi- tgtAfictt, Madrid, 244 Inttto Hodureno de Cultura tr Iberoamtricat, 245 Iter-America Bibliograpbical antd Library Associationt, 240, 244, Aires (1936), 224-225 ItttAmeicant Intttet tof Agri- Cota tict), 132 100, 105 JAMAICA, bibliograpby, 263 Jttmaica Welfare Ltd., 129-130 Jewst, 259 Jose pb, Jttttint, 18 KAHLO, Frtdda, 13 LANCASTRIAN mthobd, seEdu- La Prensta (Argetnat), 103 The Caribbean Ltnoatttdtlt, 154 Ltttbacb, Ftrankt, 164 Lawt, itntrntitttl, 209-219; Ltwt of tbe Indiet, 210 Lecnat, Jttan, 36 Leotard, Irvin~g A., 75 Lcvsttt, Cabriel, 13 Ley, Salvatdor, 39 Libraty of Cottgtest, 236, 239, 291, 239, 260, 263, 269; and of Music, 249; Folklore Setiont, 249; Hitpanic Fountdtio, 242, 246, 239 Lima,, Ettito d, 36 Lion, Jott, 239 Litboa, Frantisco Atoio ("Alej- dinbo), 15 Lizttt, PONh, 89 f. Lletat Camartgo, Albeto, 163 Lomttbardo Toldttt, Vicent, 92 Ltoztnt, Alfred, 19 Lttgo, Attiog, 89 MacLEISH, Archibald, 219 Matgdalena, Maurici, 83 Mannt, Horace, 222 Marbial Valley Projet, 129, 269 Mtrester, Cty, 261 Marneod, Juan, 90 Mar~ti, Jto, 74-84 patssim Martitt, Edgttrdo, 30 Matin, Ricardo, 14 Martittique, bibliography, 260 0. Matienzo, Jho Niolat, xxit Mendez, Leo-;poldo, 9 Mendez Balleter, Mttntel, 83 Metdez Pereira, Oca-it, 93 Merchant Marine, Act of 1936, 181 Mirida, Carost, 6, 14 brtty, New, Yorb, 247 Mexico, biblography, 291-293; as- tayitst, 90-92; tttttc, 32, 33, 34- 33; paiting, 3-10, 13-14; UniO- vetsity City, 26 Mta, CGuilermo, 14 274 Hull, Cortdell, 217, 224 Hiyprion groutp, 92 ICAZA, Fatcitct A. de, 91 Ihttt, Ftandtsct, 90 Indiatt, ttnd Caribbeat datte, 44- 92, 69; edttatttt, xii, tOi; but- ta ightsoft, 209-210; itt en~gitteitg, 137; pre-Columtbitan music, 31-36 pttttim; pre-Columt- bitt religiont, 169-170 ff., 200- Intttet tof Ittrntttional Educaittt, 223, 229, 232; Ctotttittee ttt Eductfitttal Itertantge Poiy, 23 2-23 3 Ittttittt tof Jamaica, Kittgtott, 247 Ittttittot Espaol de Esttditt Bi- totdfiats, Madrid, 244 Ittttittt Hottdurtfo de Cttltttt Itteramtricana, 259 tua Iberamercanatt, 245 Inte-Americat Bibliogttphcl tttd Library Assttiott, 240, 244, Ittr-Amerant Ctoferenc fott tbe Mainteatte tof Peace, Bttetos Airet (1936), 224-229 Iter-Ameraint Ittstittt tof Agrd- ctltual Sciences (Tttrrialba, Costt Rict), 132 Iter-Ameriat Mdtttc Cettr,se Pan Ameriant Utiott Ittr-Americat Prett Atttciattt, 100, 105 (Rtbo, Venezuelt), 121 Itigtyett, Hipolito, xixixi JAMIAICA, biblo6grapbhy, 263 Jamaica We-lttte Ltd., 129-130 Jews-, 200 Jtseph, Jttttitt, 18 KAHIO, Frieda, 13 LANCASTRIAN mtthtod, sea Edu- The Caribbean Lat Prttst (Nicatttgttt), 100 Latintto-Odric, 154 Ltttbtct, FratI, 164 tof tbe Intdies, 210 Lectttt, Jttatt, 36 Levt~titt, Cabriel, 13 ILe-, Salvatdtt, 35 Libtaty tof Ctttgttttt, 236, 239, 251, 259, 260, 263, 269; ttd clu altltittt, 227; Div.itttn tof Mttic, 249; Follorte Secton, 249; Hitptttc Fountdatittt, 242, 246, 259 Lima, Emito de, 36 Litton, Jot, 230 Lisoa, Fratttitct Atottit ("Alijt- dittbt), 15 Lizttt, Felix, 89 f. Liera Cattrgt, Alerto, 169 Lomtbardo Toledttto, Vicentt, 92 Lttztto, Alfredt, 19 Ltgo, Amticot, 89 MacLEISH, Arcibld, 219 Maigdtlett, Mtttriti, 03 Ottabc, Jtrge , 90 Manntt, Hotc, 222 Mariatlh Valley Prtjett, 129, 260 Matet, Cty, 261 Mainellt, Jtttt, 90 Marques, Rent, 83 Mtttti, Jto, 74-04 paitt Marttitt, Edgardt, 30 Mtrtitn, Ricttdo, 14 Matittiqtt, biblitgraphy, 260 0. Masferre, Alberto, 93 Matotta, Jto Niolat, txiit Mittdtt, Leopoldo, 9 Mttdet Batlettet, Manuetl, 83 Metdg-t Pertira, Oca-it, 93 Mercbttt Martte Act tof 1936, 101 Meridt, Carltt, 6, 14 Metopolitttt Mtuseut tof Art Li- btto-, New- Yo, 247 Mexico, biblitoraphy, 251-293; as- ttyitst, 90-92; muttic, 32, 33, 34- 35; paitintg, 3-10, 13-14; Uti- -eatity City, 26 Myna, CGuilletrmo, 14 274 ll, Cttdll, 217, 224 Hyperitt group, 92 ICAZA, PFrttcitco A. dt, 91 Itdiatt, ttd Caribbeatt dttte, 44- 92, 60; edttatittt, xii, xvii; btt- man rttightt tof, 209-210; itt Mexicatt art, 4 ff.; pre-Colttmbittt tttgitttitg, 137; pre-Ctoumbian muttc, 31-96 paitm; ptt-Ctltum- bitt relgittt, 169-170 0f., 200- Intdinisme,intart, 4ff., 12 223, 229, 232; Ctotmmittee ttt Educatittttl Itertchange Poicy, Intttitte tof Jttaict, Kitgstttt, 247 Ittttitto Etptantl de Estutdiot Bi- ogrificos, Madid, 244 Inttto Hottdurtno de Ctlturta Iteameriatt, 259 turat Iberoamericattt, 245 Ite-Ameriat Bibliographcl antd Library Associtiott, 240, 244, 249 Ittt-Americat Ctoferen fott tbt Maittttttttt tof Peace, Bttnos Aitet (1936), 224-225 Itert-Americant Inttteoft Agri- Cota Rict), 132 Iter-Ameictan Music Ceter,se Pttt Americatt Unitt Iter-Americat Ptttt Atttcittltt, 100, 105 Itetr-AmeroicantttfltttNormatl Scbtool (Rubit, Venezuelah), 121 Irigtyent, Hipolito, xxi,xiixv JAMIAICA, biblitgrapby, 263 Jtatotca Welfate Ltd., 129-130 Jet-t, 200 Jtoph, Jttttin, 18 KAHIO, Friedt, 13 LANCASTRIAN mtotd, ate Edut- It Prettta (Argenttinat), 103 The Caribbean Lat Pretst (Nicatagttt), 100 L,,tinttatttict, 154 Lattbacht, Ftrttk, 164 Ltt, iteratiottal, 205-210; Ltawt tof tbo ttdies, 210 Letttta, Jtttt, 36 Leonard, IrvingA., 75 Looeqtto, Gabril, 13 Loy, Salvtdtt, 35 Librtty tof Congtest, 236, 239, 251, 255, 260, 265, 265; ttd cutltural reltont, 227; Ditition tof Mttc, 249; Ptlkltore Sectiott, 249; Hitpanic Pttttdata, 242, 246, 259 Littt, Fminto do, 36 Limon, JotO, 230 dittbt), 15 Lizattt, Peix, 090f. Llotts Camttrgt, Albottt, 160 Lomttbtro Tolodttt, Vicet, 92 Ltottt, Alfrodt, 19 Ltgt, Americo, 89 MacLFIStH, Atchibald, 219 Matgdaleo, Mttricit, 83 Mtaac,Jorge, 90 Mtttn, Htttce, 222 Martbial Valloy Poeo, 129, 260 SMaoottot, Gty, 261 Maritollo, Jtttt, 90 Martques, RenO, 83 Mttti, Jote, 74-84 patttimt Matotin, Fdgttdt, 30 Matotittz, Riatdo, 14 Matoniquo, bibliography, 2600f. Matfotooo, Albetot, 93 Matento, JotO Niotlat, xxiii Mittdez, Leopoldt, 9 MOetdot Baflt, Manuetl, 83 Mttdot eeira, Octavit, 93 Merbtttt :Mttine Act tof 1936, 01 Meridt, Ctrlot, 6, 14 bray, Netw Yttk, 247 Metict, biblitgraphy, 251-253; et- tttyitst, 90-92; tasi, 32, 33, 34- 35; painting, 3-10, 13-14; Utt- versit- City, 26 Metza, Guifflerm, 14  INDEX Mijare, Attgntto, 95 4466, Rodrigo, 95 Moncayo, Pablo,, 35 Monroe Doctrine,217, 221 Montenegro, Robeto,, 4, 6 Moraz6tn, Franisc, 189 Murph~y, Frnklin6 D., 232 Mttsnttm of Moden Ant, New York, 247 Music, African1, 52 ff., 62-70 pas- siml, 256; Archi'tl de Mustica Coloniaftl Venezlana4, 35-36; bib- liography, 38-39, 248-250; cont- musi144n4, 34-38; Editoral 411- teramritnkn de Compositores (Motevi1deo), 36; 6114or7 of Caribbean music6, 31-34; Intdia,, 44-52 passim,; int Virgin Islantds, 66;musicl exchag in Amer1- ican, 227; stel drumt 6ban4s, 64- 65, 264; seeals Discography NARIVAEZ, Frncisto, 16 Nat6,onal Institute of Fine At, Mexicon, 253 Negret, Edgart, 19-20 Negro, Afrkcn dance, 52-54; Afro-Cbn dnce,56; and4Las Casas, 210; tand religion, 171; in Caibbeant mus4ic, 33; in Hait4an ar4, 10-11, 12; Negro Yearbook, 259 Nevinst, Alln, 233 Nicargua, bibliography, 255 Nin,, Joaqutitn, 37, 40-42 Nin-Culmell, Joatquint, 42 Nun, Benjamtin, 156 OBIN, Philott,, 13 Odegaard, Charles, 232 O'Gormn,, E4dmundo4,, 92 O'Gormant,, Juan,, 9 O'Higgins, Pab1lo, 9 "Opertion Botst1ap," 127, 201 0161, 5111161, 38, 42 Organizat6on of Amernicn 91a1e1, 160, 212, 216, 231 Oro, Bustillo, 83 275 INDEX 275 INDEX Con, Jostl Cltet, 4, 6, 7-8, 13, 252 Orozco Romero, Carlo,9 Ortg yGasse, Jose,ix Oriz, Fernando,89 0164z Mo1nterio, Lui1, 16 PALACIO 41 Bedin Anrt, Mexico1 City, 247 Palacios, Alfredo 1.,sixv Pttnttt, bibliography, 251; Uni- versity City, 26 Pan1 Amerinil CUniont, 205, 222, 231, 241-250 passim1, 257; Co,- lumttbust Memorial8 Libray, 241; Divisio, of Music 4114 Vitsut1 Artt, 250; Ite-American Music 0Cen4er, 227 Pant Amerinil ismt, 222 Pattn,,4n Ceter, 414e1144111 Peryra, Cals, 91 Peters, DeWit, 11, 258 Philadelphia, Museumtt 40 Ar4, 247 P81411 94144, Mariano, 95 Piut XI, 457 P14za, Juan1 841115414, 36 Point1 IV, 212 Ponce1, Manuel,, 34, 40 Popol1 Vuth, 4111 1611ig441 Porti1la, Jorge, 92 Ponrtuondo, Jose 411t11nio, 90 Posatda, Jos6 Guadalupe, 9 Posad-Amatdor1, 041444, 36 Presb~yterian 111444 of Foreign1 Missions, 198-159 Press4, 114111omic4 £414444 of pulih- ing1, 403-404; freedom41 110 press in1 Caribbean1 4414, 101-102; political pressures1, 103-104; stron4g 41141 4411111411111, 98-101 Protestant444sm, 4114 Communt11ismt, 167; 4114 politcal li01 4114 thoutght it Caribbeant, 460- 462;4114461 formtion 404a middle1 14411, 165-166; 1411444- 6ut411 in1 Caribbeant, 158-168; 1411146411, 162-164; In1dian1 mit- sions4, 166; in1 461 Euro1pean possessions4, 467; me1dical4 41411, 164-165; numbers611in1C0ribbean1, 159; Protestant1 m1issionary7 hit- tor7 111 04ar661e11, 450-460 44i41114, Attguttto, 95 Mir6, Rodrigo,, 95 Monca4yo, Pab1lo, 35 Mo441114 Doctrine, 217, 221 Mo1nnegro, 11116144, 4, 6 M11114611, Franc11ico, 109 Mur11phy, Frankli11 D., 232 Music, Afdrican, 52 ff., 62-70 pas- sim,, 256; Arci1o de Musica 0Coloni4l V1111,,ln a, 35-36; bib- lt1ogapiy, 38-39, 248-250; con- tem1porar1y Cari1bbe41 mus4ic 4114 mus4icians4, 34-30; Editorial In- 4114114146411441 Comtpositoret (Motevideo), 36; history 40 Caribbean 411114c, 31-34; Ind4i,1 44-52 pasm 111 Vigin 1441144, 66; 4mu44144 exchange int Amerl- 1144, 227; steldrum,, bandt, 64- 69, 264; 441 4544 Discogra4phy NAR1VAEZ, PFrancis41, 16 Nat6onal 44464441e o0 P1111 Ants, Mexico, 253 Negret, Edgar1, 19-20 Negro, 40411111 411411, 52-54; Afro,-Cubant, dance, 5 6; 4an4 Las 04444, 210; tand 1141i4144, 171; it 04416b1411 411441, 33; 111 0416411 4114, 10-11, 12; N1g44 Yea446o46, 259 Nevins, A11lan, 233 N1111114411, bibliogra~phy, 255 Nin1, Joaqul1in, 37, 40-42 Nin-Culmell4, Joa4quin, 42 N11114, An,1tni, xx11, xxiii, 44i1 N111441o Diario, 101 Nunezl, Bnjamint, 456 0846, Phtil-et, 13 041ga414, 06411e4, 232 O'Gorn,, Edmundot4,, 92 0O'Gorman,, 51141, 9 O'Hligginst, Pablo,, 9 "0411146411 Bo444464p," 127, 201 0116,, 5114161, 30, 42 011g4111140ion 40 Amicanltat441, 460, 212, 216, 241 0114, BusttilIlo, 03 04444,5Jose lemen11te, 4, 6, 7-4, 13, 252 0Omzco Romero11, 04rl44, 9 0rtega7y0Gass,1Jos, 4ix Orti, Fnando1, 89 Ontiz Monas4te,1o, 11114, 16 PALACIO de 011444 Anrt, 4414511 City, 247 Palacios4,41lfredo11, xix,1xxiv Ptantama, biblio1graphy, 258; Uni- 1111si47 City, 26 P411 Americant U11141, 205, 222, 231, 241-250 passtim, 257; 0Co- 14441644 Memor11,al 11611411, 241; 0ivi1411 of Mu1141 4114 Vis1al Arts, 290; Inter-American1 Music 0111411, 227 P411 Ameink~ismt, 222 P641nnt,, 0111411, 4110111414 Pereyr,,, Carlos, 91 Peters1, DeWitt, 11, 250 Philadelphia Museumtt 404114, 247 P11611 Salas,, Mar1iano, 95 P1111 XI, 157 P1laza, J1141 8411t1444, 36 Poi111 IV, 212 Ponce1, M1111d, 34, 40 Popol Vuh6, 411 Rel1igi4n Portilla, 5411g1, 92 Portuondo,% Jos5 An1tonio, 90 Posada4, J444 04444111p1, 9 Posada4-Amador11, 041544, 56 Presb~yter1ian 844114 of Foreidgn Mditions,, 150-159 Press, 414114mi1 04144114 40 publish- 111g, 403-164; f1111444 40 press4 in1 Caribbean 41114, 101-102; political pressures1, 103-104; stron4g 4114 g41111141111, 98-101 Protestant444sm, 4114 ommuntttismt, 167; and4 politictl 1101 4114 thoutght 111 04ar66bean, 460- 162; 4114 461 forma1t41on1 40 4 middl11 clats, 165-166; 111114i- 6bu6411 111 04ari6bean, 158-168; 14111114141, 162-164; 4114141 mis1- 411114, 166; in1 the Euro1pean1 possessions4, 167; 41141144 wo411, 164-165; numbers11 in1 Caribbean, 159; Prot41stant mtisionary hit- tor1 511 044661411, 154-160 Mijares, Augto, 95 4466, Ro44116o, 95 Mo111147o, Pablo,, 35 Mo41114 Doc1tr1ne, 217, 221 Mntene1gro, Roberto, 4, 6 Moraz46n, Francisco, 109 16411146, Frankli11 D., 232 Museum,4 4044114111 Alt, 61ew Yo1111, Music, Afr1can, 52 if., 62-70 p44- 4541, 256; A416114 de M4s464 Colonial14 Venezolana11, 38-36; b16- liogrtphy, 58-39, 240-250; con- tem1porar 0411661411 414si1 4114 4444111411, 34-38; Editorial In- 4414111,4141144e Com4postores4 (Montevlideo), 36; 61111117 40 Caribbean1 mu441, 31-34; India,,, 44-52 passim1; 611 Virgin Itslatdt, 66; musica~l exchan1ge in1 Amer- icas, 227; steldru bands6414, 64- 65, 264; 411 also Disco1graphy NARIVAE, PFr1111414, 16 64641144 Institute 110 Fine1 Ants, 5414611, 253 614414, Ed4441, 19-20 61e111, Afican, 441111, 52-54; Afr-Cuban141dance, 56;14114144 Casas,, 210; and 111645411, 171; 111 0C,466b411 41441, 33; in1 H401411 4rt1 10-11, 12; 61e111 1614461111, 259 Nevins, A0411, 233 Nicara4gua, bibliography, 255 Nin,, 544q11n, 37, 40-42 Nin,-Culmel, 5Jo113451, 42 Norest, An1tonio6, xxii, xxiii1, xxiv1 61114tr1 054ario, 101 Nunezl, Benjamtino, 156 0846, P611441, 15 041g,414, 064,414, 232 001141141, Edmundo14, 92 0O'Gorman, 511111, 9 0O'Higgint, Pa644, 9 0Ope146111 Bootst4ap," 127, 201 01161,5441611, 38, 42 011ganizt11n 110 Americanta4441, 160, 242, 216, 241 0Oro, Bast611e, 83 011141, 1416 01141en44, 4, 6, 7-8, 13, 252 OrozcolRomeo, Carlos,9 0116441044414e,1141,414x Onti, Fernando,% 89 OrizMoatettl, 11114,16 PA1AC40 de 811144 Artes, Mexico City, 247 Pa1lacios, 41011141 L., 111,4411v Panama1, bibliography, 255; 0111- versit1 City, 26 Pan1 American4t Union,, 205, 222, 231, 241-250 p4445im, 257; 04- 41141611 441414441 11611411, 241; Division1 40 Musc1 4114 Visual 4411, 250; Inter1-American1 Muictt 0111414, 227 Pan14Americanism, 222 P6441114114011141, 41110111114 Per1yra, Carlos,,91 Peters4, DeWitt, 11, 258 Philadelphia 44114111414 Ant, 247 P51611 84144, Marianot1, 95 P1114 XI, 157 P1444, 54411 841164ta, 36 Poi111 IV, 212 Ponce1, Manuel,, 34, 40 Popolt Vuh6, 414 Religiont Por141lla, 541g1, 92 Portn do4, 51145 A11411111 90 Posada4, 51144 0Guadalupe, 9 P114444-4A4441,04,4114, 36 Presbyterian, 84414 of0 Foeg 611464114, 158-159 Press4, 114114111 04141111 of pu1blish- 1110, 153-404; 011114114 110 press in Caribbean 41114, 101-102; political pressures1, 103-104; 4st1144 4141 411144141111, 98-101 Pro1tett smt, 4114 01141441164, 167; 1111 polit6cal 1101 4114 thoutght 111 0411166441, 160- 162; 4114th1041141461111404 4114411 11444, 165-166; cotri- bution 111 Car66b4an, 158-168; 1411146111, 162-164; I114141 mis- 411114, 166; 111 464 Euro1pean possessions1, 467; 41141144 wo411, 164-165; numbers11in1104ri66141, 159; Prottantt 41114111144 hip- 41141 in 04,4661411, 158-160  276 Pertol Rico, bibliography, 267- 268; dance, 57-59; eduation, 196-207 RAMOS, Jose Antonio, 83 Ramos,Samul 92 Reder, Bernard, 19 Reigion, and arl, 11, 12; ad dance, 66-70; Popol Vuh, 209; Shango, 62-63, 66; Voodoo, 151, 171, 209; see lso Catholic Chrh and Protestantism 0e4u1 Nod1141 (Costa Rica), 196 Revst de 4 A1,ance, 90 1R1vu1ltas, Ferm1in, 6 Reuel1as, 901141tr, 34, 37, 38, 40 Reyes, Alfons, 90-91 01yes, Jose Tinidad, 194 Rivera, Diego, 4, 6-7, 8, 13, 27, Ron, Raul, 90 1Robleto, Herren,, 100 Roc1ef11le Foundaton, 222 Bodo4, Jose Enrique, si Rodriguez, Eugenio1, 19 Ro4driguez Loao Manuel, 6 odlfo6, Man4ue1, 19 0ob4in, Amdo 37, 38, 42 o16rn, Jos0, 33 Roosevelt, Franklin0., 217, 238, Rosad, Ramon6,, 194 1Roy11 Emlpire Society, library, 262 Royal Tropical Institute1, Amster1 dam,, 265 f. SAINT-MALD, Alfredo de, 35 Sa41chez, Florencio, 81 Sanchez1 deP Fuente, Eduado, 37 Sanin Cane, Baldomd)ro, 93 9,,1,,6116, Domingo, 222 Scu;lpture1, prominent Caribbean sculptors, 16-20 Seguridad Soia (Dominican Re- public), 103 Scley, Jason, 18 Servic Coo~peraif Haitie-Ameri1- cain d'Educat8o Ibdalk, 121 The Caribbean 0Shange, see Religio Shipping, role of Alcoa in, 177- 183; se lso Merchant Marine Actdo 1936 Sicr, Juan Jos, 19 Sierra Beddia, Fernando, 83 Silva Herzo)g, Jesus1, 32 9Si6,n Diaz, Jos3, 244 Siqu16iros, David A1lfaro, 6, 7, 27 Committee onl Cross-Cultural Pd- ucation, 233 Somoza, Ansaso 100 Soo, Marco Aurelio, 189 Stoddard,0GeorgeD., 232 Study Abroa, se Educaion, TAMAYO, 101061, 14 Taylor, Museum, Colorado, 247 Techica 9c6oo1 (San Fenno Trinddad), 124 Theater, Americand National 16ea611 and4 Academly, 230 Thomsond,, James1, 162 Trdadd, Arts Festival, 131; music an4 dancep, 62-65, 263-264 Truljifllo, Rafael, 99, 109 Tugwell1, 0Re0fo14, 267 UNAMUO, Miguel de-, xix 0Unesco, 111, 129, 164, 203, 241, 259; Biiogra4phy and Doc1dmd,- tat6o4 Centre, 230; P6tzcuaro 0141er, 131-132, 212; Study 4A1-lad, 229 Uno de Universidades Laind- 411411141, 203 Union of Colombian Workers,, 139 United Fruit Com4pany, 130 Unite-d Nations, 203, 211, 216, 247; Charte, 213; Food ad Agriculture Organizaton,, 241; 8or Lat01n America,, 212; United Nations1 Document Inldex, 240, Unitd States1 Deparmn 8of4 State1, 235; and artsti inlterchange i,, Amrcs 226-228, ad ind r Ameica stu1,dent exchange, 230; 276 Puerto Rico, bibliography, 267- 260; dance, 37-59; education, RAMOS, Josd Antonio, 03 Ram, Samue1l92 Reder, Bernad, 19 Religion, and art, 11, 12; and4 dance, 66-70; Popol Vuh6, 209; Shango1, 62-63, 66; Vodod, 131, 171, 209; see also Catholic 064rch an4 Protestantism Repurn Nl11411(Costa4Rica), 196 "Responsibl redomlin theAmeri;- Revueltas, Fermin,, 6 Revuel1tas, Silves41,e, 34, 37, 38, 40 Reyes, 4134414, 90-91 1R1y11, Jose Trinidad, 194 Rivera1, Diego, 4, 6-7, 8, 13, 27, Ron1, Ra11, 90 Roleto, Herm46m, 100 Rockefel1er Fonain 222 0ld6, Jos,3 Enrique1, six, 1Rodriguez, Eugenio, 19 odriguez Loao Manuel, 6 Bodulfo1, Manue1l, 19 R041dan, Amdeo, 37, 38, 42 0o1li1, 5410, 33 Roosevelt1, Franlin D., 217, 231, Rosa,01,am6,, 194 10oya1 PEmpire Soiety, library, 262 dam, 269 0. SAINT-MALD, Alfredo de, 35 Sanch611, Florencio, 81 SanchezldeFuentes, Eduardo,37 91461 Cana, Baldomerol, 93 Sclipture, prominent1 Cari6bbean sclptors, 16-20 Seguri1dad Social (Doiican1 01- public), 103 86117, 11114, 18 Service Coopera1f Haitie-Ameri- cain d'Pd,,11641 Rura1e, 121 The Caribbean 38,15,, see Rel1igion Shipping, ro1e of Alcoa in, 177- 183; see also MerchantIMarine Act of 1936 Si11c1, anJos, 19 061114 Berdeia,, Fernadod, 03 Sil14 Herzog, Je1us, 32 Si4161 Diaz, Jos6, 244 Siqueiros1, David Alfaro, 6, 7, 27 Soc6i 9161111 Reseadch Council, Comm14ittee 44 Cross-Cultural Pd- ucation, 233 94414,1, Anastasio, 100 Soto, Marco Aurelio1, 109 Stoddard,GeorglD.,232 Stud4y Abroa, see Educat6,on TAMAYD, 101041, 14 Taylor 01,11,14, Colrado, 247 Technical1School (S44 Fernan,1, Tinidad), 124 Theater1, American,1NationalTheat1e lnd Academ1y, 230 Thomson,, 144111, 162 Torres, Carlos, Arturo, 93 Trinidad, Arts Festival, 131; 41u161 and dance1, 62-68, 263-264 Trjil, 1040411, 99, 109 T,1gwel, R1404,d, 267 UNAMUO, Miguel1 41, xix, Unesco,, 111, 129, 164, 203, 241, 239; Bib6ligraphy and Do,,um1n- 61014n 014111, 290; P6841cuar4 014111, 131-132, 212; Study Abroad, 223 Union1 de Universidades La1in4- amerlicanas, 209 U4io4 of Co1lom661n Workers, 159 011014 Fruit Company7, 130 Uited Nat8ons, 203, 211, 216, 247; Chadte, 213; Food 114 Agricu1lture1 Organizaton, 241; 01e144on lEconomic4Commission 611 La484 Amer61ca, 212; 04014d Naionsl Document,1 In411, 240, 259 04it14 814101 Department1 of 81411, 253; 144 art6sti int1e11h4ng1 in Americas,1, 226-228, 444 inter- American1 student exchange, 230; 276 Puerto 0314, bibliography, 267- 268; 41,111, 37-59; education, 19 6-20 7 RAMOS9,1Jos Adtonio, 83 Ramos1, 8141111 92 101411, 8114114, 19 Rligion1, 144 art, 11, 12; 114 44an11, 66-70; Popl Vuh, 209; Shango1, 62-63, 66; Vodood, 131, 171, 289; see 46so Catho1i1 Church and Protestant1sm 1011141 Nd,1d,4 (040110111a), 136 "Respnsible P11144411,1161 Ameri6- 10113111 de Avance1, 90 10144el141, Fermin,, 6 Revueltas,, Silves10e, 34, 37, 38, 40 Reyes, Alfonso,, 90-91 01yes, Jos,6 Trinidad1, 194 Rivera1, Diego, 4, 6-7, 8, 13, 27, Rea,0111, 90 Ro61eto, Her1,16,, 100 04161011111 Foundat8,on, 222 0446, Jos66,Enriqu, xix Rodriguez1,, Eu4g113o, 19 Rodul1fo, Manuel6, 13 Be146,1, Ama1dlo, 37, 38, 42 134161, 1416, 33 04o111111, F14,11434 D., 217, 238, 267 0411,014164, 194 oyal PEmpire 941111y, library, 262 04y41 Troppica1 Institute, Amster1- 4441, 268 0. SAINT-MAID, Alfredo de1, 35 Sa,1chez, Florencio, 81 S641h14 de PFuentes, Eduardo, 37 Sanin0Can, Bal1dome1, 93 9,11414111, Domingo, 222 Sculpture, prominent1 011166114 1111p1411, 16-20 Seguridad4 341341 (Dominican, 01- publ), 183 Selly, J1144, 18 9111111 Coopera46f Haitien-Ameri- 1111 d'Educa14on 1041111, 121 The Caribbean Shango, see 10e115344 Shipping, ro1e If Alcoa in, 177- 183; see also Merchant4 Marine ActlIf 1936 Sicr, J411 Jos6, 19 9Si1rra Blrdecia, PFernando, 83 S1lva 1He1zog, Jesbs, 32 S1416, Dill, 1416, 244 Siqu11iros, David AlfroI, 6, 7, 27 9Socia1 Science Resedrh Couni,1, Committee4 on Cros-Cu1ltral Pd- ucat1ion, 233 Somoza,1, Anastasio, 100 Stoddard, George D., 232 Study Abroad4, see Educat3on TAMAYD, Rufino4, 14 Taylor Museum4, 0C1lorad, 247 Trinida1d), 124 and Acdey 230 Thomsonl,, James, 162 Torr,1Carlos Artur, 93 Tinidad, 4r1s Pestiva1, 131; 411111 144 44411, 62-65, 263-264 Trujillo, 010411, 99, lOS Tu1gwel, 0110414, 267 UNAMUO, Miguel 41, s1x U,1esco, 111, 129, 164, 203, 241, 259; Biblgralphy 114 Documen1,- 14044n Centr, 250; P61tzcuaro 014111, 131-132, 212; 0114y 481144, 229 04364 de Universidades Latin11- americanas1, 209 U431411041141611an Workers1, 139 UnitedPFruit om1pan1y, 130 United Nations,1, 209, 211, 216, 247; Charter1, 215; Food 114 46131,111411 Organizat1on, 241; for [464n 44116111, 212; 0,1014 Nations,1 Document,1 11414, 240, 0Un11e4 914111 Department of 91411, 293; 144 art81ti interchange in Americas4, 226-228, 444 inter- Americanlstudentlexchange, 230;  INDEX Reaiosi the Field of Art, 226; Diviin of Cultural Re- ltions, 225 Un~iverity Collge of the West Indies, Jamaica, 259; Exr Muranl Departmn, 264; Firs Caribben Semnarn Adlt Edcto (1952), 260 Unieit~yofMexic, 216 Uniesiy of Fuerto Rico, 215- 216, 259, 267, 266; enrllmentl, 202; Normanl School, 198; Socia Science Researh CeIne, 206; universit serice, 196-207 Uranga, Emlio, 92 UHieI-Holgin, Guillermo, 35-36,40 Usigli, Rodolfo, 81, 52 VALLE, Rafael Heidordo, 93 Varon, Enrilque Jose, 89 0. Vsolos1, Jose, 91, 92 277 Velac, Jose Mari, 9 Veeuea essyists, 94-96; music1, 35 f. Villarruti, Xavier, 89 Villl,1,, 1Luis, 92 Virgin Islnds, bibliograIphy, 260- 269; dance,, 65-66 Vitie, Medardo,, 89 Vitoia, Francisco de, 209 8. VodolI, seVoodoo WELLES, Sumnera, 229 West Indian Committe, library, 262 White, Gilbert, 232 ZALAMEA, Jorge, 94 Zalce, Alfredo, 9 Zea, Leopold, 92 Zabel, Joseph, 261 Zdliga, Erncisco, 16 INDEX elaton n the 161eld of Art, 226; Divisin of Cltural Re- lations1, 225 Universiy Coge of0 161 West Indies, JaicaIO, 299; Extra Mural Department, 264; Eirs Caribbean, Semidarn Adudt Edcto (1932), 260 Uniriy of1exic, 216 University of Fnert Rico, 215- 216, 299, 267, 268; enrllmn,1, 202; Norma School, 198; Socia1 Scince Research Center, 206; universit services, 196-207 Uranga, Emilio6, 92 Urib-Holguin1, Gllermo,1, 35-36, 40 Usigli, DRodlf, 01, 82 VALLE, Rafae Helidr, 93 Varona1, EniqueIIJose, 89 f. Vacnce-os, Jose, 91, 92 277 INDEX Velasc, Josd Maria, 9 Confernceo Inter-Ameran, Vnezlal , essyists, 94-96; music, Relations, 6n 161 Eield of Ar, 30 0. 226; Diviin of Culurl Re- Vi1llrruia, Xavie, 03 lations, 228 Villro, Li,, 92 Universiy Cllege of the Wesl Virgin Islands, bibliography, 260- Indies, Jamaica, 299; Extra 269; danc, 69-66 Mural DepartmentI, 264; Eirn Vitier, Medardo,, 09 Car66be,, Seminar on Adult Vitoria, Erancic de, 2090 f.Eucto (1932), 260 Vodu, se Voodoo University of0 Puerto Rico, 219- Voodoo, IsRligion, 216, 299, 267, 260; enrollmenlt, VoduseVoodoo 202; Normal 016hool, 190; Social1 Scinc, RInesc Center, 206; WELLES, Sumner11, 223 unIiversity services, 196-207 Well Indian Commite, library, 262 Uranga, Em,1iio, 92 White, 0i1bert, 232 Uribe-Holguin, Guillermo,, 39-36,40 Wilson,, Woodrow, xviii Usigl, Ro1dolfo1, 01, 82 ZALAMEA, Jorg, 94ALI~8, 3,6,,1,9 2101, Alfedo,, 9VALRfeHlidr,9 Zea, Leopold, 92 Vallenilla Lanz, Laurean, 94 0, Zo6 1, Joseph, 261 Vrn, Enrique Jos0, 89 L. 260101 Frnisc, 16 VascIIcI1Is, Jose, 91, 92 277 Velasco,, Jose Maria1, 9 Venezuel, essayist, 94-96; music11, 35 L. Villaruti, Xlie, 03 Villoro, Lis, 92 Virgin Islands, bib1lgrphy, 260- 269; dalnc, 65-66 Vitier, Medardo, 89 Vitoia, Erancisco d, 209 0, Vodon, seVoodoo Vodun, seVoodoo Voodoo, seeReigion, Voudou,1,seeVodoo, WELLES, Sumne, 228 Westl Indin Committe, libray, 262 White, G116111, 232 WiIlon, Woodrow, 1v186 ZALAMEA, Jorge, 94 Zai1re, Alfredo,, 9 Zea, Leopod, 92 Zobel, Joseph, 261 Zn606,1, Francisco, 16