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Although the volume of research on Latin America has increased markedly in the past decade or so, major topics remain neglected. One of these encompasses the urban working class (wage labor) and worker organizations. This situation, however, is changing. Scholars today are opening new lines of investigation and are applying fresh criteria to existing data in order to formulate working hypotheses and test older theories about organized labor and the working class in Latin America. This article presents a brief, highly selective analysis of new and traditional materials available for Argentina, Brazil, and Chile. It treats the urban sectors and labor in modernized enclaves in rural areas almost exclusively; related topics such as peasant unions and rural labor in general fall outside its scope. It outlines areas and problems that future investigators might probe and also presents some hypotheses. Perhaps most important, it attempts to orient future investigators in the field.
Despite certain early efforts to interpret Mexico as a pluralist constitutional democracy, or democracy-in-the-making (Scott 1959; Tucker 1957), scholars today almost universally agree that the political system of Mexico is authoritarian. The trappings of Mexico's liberal constitution and elections notwithstanding, Mexico's Partido Revolucionario Institucional (PRI) serves to integrate the polity under the highly centralized control of a single institution that dominates access to all public office. At the apex of the PRI is the Mexican president, who not only chooses his own successor but controls access to the PRI's candidate lists for all other public offices and therefore dominates both the party and the congress. In sum, as Coleman and Davis argue, Mexico fits the ideal type of authoritarian political organization because “decisions are made almost exclusively by the ruling elite rather than by democratic, pluralist processes” and because “there are severe restrictions placed upon political mobilization” (1976, 195).
Lima is one of several cities in Latin America that have been the subject of a relatively large number of studies by anthropologists. About thirty years' worth of anthropological research in Lima has accrued, yet little has been done in the way of synthesis, although Millones (1978), Osterling (1980), and Lloyd (1980) have made summary comments toward this end in introductions to their recent books. No ethnography of the entire city has been attempted, and in many ways, the research has been concerned only with relatively smaller units and bounded groups, particularly squatter settlements and highland migrants. Nor have the linkages between studies and groups often been made. I will briefly discuss here, within a typological framework, the ethnographic studies carried out in Lima with an eye to describing and integrating the nature, focus, and methods of these studies.
For two days in December 1969, a group of eleven scholars came together in austin, Texas, for some eight hours of round table discussions on the status and future of research in Latin American literature. Sponsored by the Joint Committee on Latin American Studies (S.S.R.C.-A.C.L.S.), and hosted by the University of Texas' Institute of Latin American Studies, the conference represented an attempt to respond to a need as yet unanswered within any of the major professional organizations—the need to bring together a number of competent scholars in the field of literary research to examine past accomplishments, to exchange ideas about the nature of present problems, and to raise questions about future directions.
The decade of the 1960s ushered in a “New Frontier” for scholarly interest in all aspects of Latin American life. This trend was reflected in the curricula of American and Canadian institutions of higher education as they embarked on expanded programs in Latin American studies. This intensified effort resulted in an unprecedented number of doctoral dissertations on Latin American topics being submitted at 152 U.S. and Canadian universities. This research will be analyzed by drawing primarily on two bibliographic works: Allen Bushong's 1967 work, “Doctoral Dissertations on Pan American Topics Accepted by United States and Canadian Colleges and Universities 1961-1965” (LARR 2, No. 2 Supplement [Spring 1967]), and my Doctoral Dissertations on Latin America and the Caribbean: An Analysis and Bibliography of Dissertations Accepted at American and Canadian Universities, 1966-1970 (Publication No. 10 of the Consortium of Latin American Studies Programs, 1980). A comparison of the decade will also be made with the period 1861-1960.
Padre Cícero Romão Batista, the priest who allegedly worked miracles until his death in 1934, has become a symbol for the vast, poverty-ridden Northeast of Brazil. Every year nearly a million pilgrims come to visit his adopted city, Juazeiro do Norte, in the arid interior of the state of Ceará. The fact that their journeys are not a remnant of the past, but a steadily growing reflection of the present, makes stories about the priest of special interest to social scientists as well as literary scholars. Although the pilgrimage in honor of Padre Cícero is not the largest in the country, it is the biggest in honor of a nonsaint anywhere in the Western world today.
In the study of agrarian politics in general and the history of rural Colombia in particular, four broad, interrelated perspectives are relevant to the understanding of rural politics: peasants and rebellion, the interaction of local and national politics, patron-client relations, and regionalism. Principal issues and trends within each of these areas are explored here, and an effort is made to generate specific questions for historical investigation. The present state of research on rural history and politics in Colombia is also surveyed, and observations are advanced on how new research orientations originating in these perspectives may contribute to our understanding of social and political developments in Colombia in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
James Wilkie's The Mexican Revolution: Federal Expenditure and Social Change Since 1910 is an industrious attempt to get beneath the conventional wisdom about the changes wrought by the Mexican Revolution. The author's careful compilation of budgetary data should sharply challenge the longstanding and widespread assumptions that: (a) useful historical material from Latin America does not exist in statistical form, and (b) even if it did exist, the mystical qualities of Latin culture defy all efforts at measurement. Wilkie has shown that—with luck, perseverence, and imagination—data can be found. One hopes that his example will encourage other students of the area to seek out similar data and reap further intellectual benefits from quantitative analysis: hypothesis-testing, measurement of trends, and rigorous comparison.
As the Secretary of State looks out over the Potomac River, pondering reports from his embassies to the south, the fundamental question: “What is it?” comes to him again and again. Is a new regime in a Latin American country controlled by “agrarian reformers,” “moderate socialists,” “malleable leftists,” “Christian Democrats,” “safe militarists,” or—others?
For one who lacks the knowledge, as well as the wish, to challenge Andrew Pearse's account of the facts of the Latin American rural scene, the only useful form of comment is to raise questions and perhaps thereby to express some minor doubts concerning the inference he makes from the facts. It might be most useful to start from the end opposite Pearse's. He has looked at the evidence, crystallized the diversity of the changes he sees into a discrete set of trends, illustrated them with illuminating and convincing details, and tentatively forecast their implications. Instead, let us start at the other end with a question that rests on a clear value premise, and ask whether the trends Pearse indicates are “for the better” or “for the worse.” I would choose the question: “what chances are there of a substantial and sustained increase in agricultural production?”