Between 1933 and the end of World War II, Argentina became the home of some 43,000 Jewish refugees from Nazism, almost all of them of German, Austrian, or West European origin. Measured against the country's total population, 13 million in 1931, 16 million according to the 1947 census, Argentina received more Jewish refugees per capita than any other country in the world except Palestine (Wasserstein, 1979: 7,45). This did not occur by design of the Argentine government; on the contrary, its immigration policies became interestingly restrictive as the years of the world crisis wore on.

In practice, however, Argentina was unable to patrol effectively its long borders with the neighboring republics of Chile, Bolivia, Paraguay, Brazil, and Uruguay. The overseas consuls of these nations, especially the first three, did a brisk and lucrative trade in visas and entry permits for persons desperate to escape the Nazi terror.

This article will serve as a commentary on the future of Latin America and on some possible alternatives for the problems facing it while taking worldwide issues and problems into account. It does not claim to formulate or reformulate existing theories on the management and dynamics of the global crisis that threaten the world today. It will, however, go into the premises on which our thinking is based and the various levels of distinction used in approaching these global problems.

The basic premise is that the relationship of man in society with nature has progressively deteriorated. Man is an integral part of nature, a fact that is increasingly being ignored. As society has increased in complexity and extent, there has been a growing alienation between man and the natural system of which he is a part. This has resulted in a series of crises between man and nature in areas such as the environment, food, energy, population, and so on, which are only different facets of the global crisis.

Separated by many thousands of miles and very different cultural heritages, Argentina and Canada might not seem to have much in common. But during the period between 1870 and 1930, there were many striking similarities between the economic development of these two countries at opposite ends of the New World (Blain, 1972). Indeed, by the late 1920s, Alejandro E. Bunge, the distinguished head of the economics faculty at the University of Buenos Aires, was pointing to the “Argentine- Canadian economic parallel” in his publications (Bunge, 1929). Bunge had perceived that Argentina and Canada were two of a small group of historically favored new countries that shared what Canadian economist Melville Watkins (1963: 149) has called, “an enormous advantage over the typical underdeveloped country,” because they did not “start their development with population pressing against scarce resources.”

The growing importance of third world countries in the international system brings their potential for conflict and cooperation to the forefront. Given the fact that the East-West conflict tends to intensify the North-South conflict, a general tendency toward more warlike antagonisms is becoming evident within the Third World. In view of this trend, Latin America as a region becomes particularly interesting; conditions here have always led to conflict situations between the various countries, but specific historical factors seem to have kept these conflicts from erupting to the same extent that they have in other regions of the Third World.

Conflicts between two states do not suddenly occur. Their virulence rather gradually develops from a mixture of border conflicts, historical animosities, economic disputes, differences in political systems, arms races, and certainly, the influence of the big powers.

The 1891 civil war that led to the downfall of President José Manuel Balmaceda is without doubt one of the most visible episodes of Chilean history. Already the subject of a voluminous bibliography by 1894 (Echeverría y Reyes, 1894), the “revolution's” importance to historians of Chile actually increased over time as a new generation of scholars came to view it not merely as a discrete event of limited intrinsic interest but as an important key to understanding Chile's subsequent political and economic development. In retrospect, the conflict came to be seen as a “crucial watershed” in Chilean history (Blakemore, 1974: 243), marking the replacement of a presidential system—1833-1891—notable in nineteenth-century Latin America for political stability, by a parliamentary system—1891-1924—notorious for political and monetary disorder.

Territorial disputes have been an important factor influencing and embittering international relationships within Latin America, especially since the disagreements—often dating back to the early days of independence during the early 19th century—have been difficult to resolve because of the sensitivity of governments and public opinion to sovereignty issues. As a result, there is a marked reluctance to compromise. This not only makes the resolution of such disputes a remote possibility, but also discourages disputants from submitting the matter to a third party such as the United Nations. In the meantime, the very nature of these questions means that normal diplomatic and economic relations are likely to be interrupted by a conflict at any time. In many respects, the Anglo-Argentine dispute over the Falkland Islands (or Islas Malvinas) conforms to this general Latin American pattern even though it involves a European power.

In a March 1980 address to the Venezuelan Congress, President Luis Herrera Campíns stated: “Effective action by Venezuela in the sphere of international affairs must take into account certain key facts: Economics—we are a producer-exporter of oil; politics—we have a stable, consolidated democracy; and geopolitics—we are at one and the same time a Caribbean, Andean, Atlantic, and Amazonian country” (Venezuela Up To Date, 1980: 8). President Herrera's statement reveals a Venezuelan interest in geopolitics; at the same time, it outlines the difficulties in achieving a coherent geopolitical strategy.

Almost all literature on immigration in the context of assimilation addresses itself either directly or indirectly to values. While material is more often available for examining assimilation's external manifestations, such as frequency of intermarriage with the native population, degree of participation in the institutions of the host country, and willingness to adopt its language, these manifestations inevitably turn around the more amorphous question of native and immigrant values. More fundamental than social patterns, values determine whether an immigrant will learn the new language or will intermarry with the long-term residents of the host country.

The existence of a relationship between foreign military assistance, domestic military spending, and the political activity of the armed forces in developing nations is a widely assumed yet little documented phenomenon. This article explores the association between these three variables in Argentina and offers a model which could be used for the analysis of their relationship in other nations.

Prior studies have largely focused upon the correlation between the first two variables and the incidence of military takeovers (the classic golpe). The model presented here examines less discernible activities which have not been analyzed previously, although many observers have suggested that they may constitute significant measurements of the military's involvement in politics.

Women's participation in the industrial labor force seems to have followed a universal pattern across nations and across historical periods. Available evidence suggests that in the early stages of industrialization young, single women are readily employed in industries manufacturing food, clothing, and other nondurable products. As industrialization progresses and more advanced technologies are introduced, women are replaced by men as the preferred industrial workers (Baker, 1964; Boserup, 1970; Safa, 1977; Scott and Tilly, 1975).

The question of state insolvency has been a recurring problem in modern history. Defaults have plagued investors and damaged many nations' credit on international money markets. Other nations have suffered due to investor anxieties resulting from defaults by their neighbors. Politicians, diplomats, financiers, and investors have differed greatly in their proposed solutions to the problems of national fiscal failure. The experience of Mexico in its postrevolutionary era is a classic example of the myriad problems faced by those who assist in the financial rehabilitation of the distressed nation, as well as by those who seek to protect investors.

The first half-century after Mexico won its independence was characterized by almost constant domestic strife, frequently humiliating international relations, and a tendency toward fiscal irresponsibility. It was not until Porfirio Díaz seized the presidency from Sebastián Lerdo de Tejada in 1876 that Mexico experienced a degree of domestic tranquility which earned it the tolerance begrudgingly granted by powerful states to their weaker but stable brethren.

On March 20, 1980, a small group of would-be Cuban exiles attempted to force a bus through the gates of the Peruvian embassy in Havana. In the process, they killed one Cuban military guard on duty and apparently touched off a chain of events that resulted in the “Freedom Flotilla“—the dramatic emigration of 125,266 Cubans (Bowen, 1980:9). This exodus, one of the most controversial episodes in recent U.S.-Cuban relations, also sparked a national and international ideological debate over its significance. Central to the ideological struggle and the theme of this article are the legitimacy problems facing the Cuban state.

Many communally divided postcolonial states rely almost exclusively upon an effective machinery of control to ensure political order. This has stemmed from two factors: (1) unrestrained communal competition for votes; and (2) inheritance of a highly centralized state apparatus. The first condition has tended to politicize sectional cleavages, exacerbating distrust (Premdas, 1972: 19-20). Without a body of shared values in the state, protection of a communal group's interest is perceived to reside on the capture of the government. The second condition under such circumstances facilitates “effective domination of one group over another” (Smooha, 1980: 257). Apart from a consociational arrangement, democracy in deeply divided societies is elusive, rendering authoritarian control seemingly necessary to prevent protracted communal conflict and political disintegration (Lijphart, 1969: 207; Milne, 1975: 413; Norlinger, 1972). As a legitimator of domination, stability is a controversial value, especially in the face of cynical and brutal abuses of human rights.

Colombia provides a particularly instructive case of auto industry development. An intermediate-level country in terms of market size and stage of industrialization, its potential for dealing or bargaining effectively with transnational automobile firms is considerably less than that of Brazil, Mexico, or Argentina, but far more comparable to that of most Third World countries. It would be wrong, however, to lump all intermediate countries together. They vary enormously in terms of the size of their carbuying publics, their economic and natural resources, and their commitments to and progress toward industrial development. Moreover, these factors themselves are conditioned by past and present policy decisions and are subject to the politico-economic priorities and strategies of individual governments.

The period 1968-1976 in Mexico is characterized by an expanded cultural infrastructure and an acute expression of ideas with not inconsequential political ramifications. Such an intellectual configuration is one of the key elements in Mexican history, with periodic evidence available at least since the eighteenth century of ideological and educational movements that paralleled governmental reform or influenced a theory of state. This experience demonstrates how intellectuals may help tilt history in a certain direction as well as transmit an illustrative documentation of change. Not the least noteworthy legacy of the recent period was its impact on Mexican studies in generating a preoccupation with the intellectual and the state.

Crisis, breakdown, and disintegration have become operative concepts in journalistic, academic, and official assessments of contemporary affairs in Central America. The radicalization and Cubanization of the Nicaraguan revolution, the resurgence of revolutionary messianism and continuing violence in El Salvador and Guatemala, and the increasingly active and direct role which regional powers and European countries are playing in the region have turned Central America into a salient, global confrontational arena.

A systemic view, however, would miss important political processes continuing with surprising strength but unnoticed regularity in some Central American nations indirectly affected by revolutionary conflict and thus partially insulated from the region's high level of violence.