510 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1963 



ing one could propitiate them ; when the evil eye is a constant menace ; 

 when every wind, every heavy rain, every drought, every phase of the 

 moon — in short every natural force — has its religious significance and 

 must be interpreted ; when indeed almost every act is portentous, then, 

 although the individual's disciplined, hemmed-about, and inhibited 

 life might seem to him — and thinking makes it so, remember — fulfilled, 

 the fact is inescapable that his productive capacity and potential are, 

 in the modem sense and to say the least, not at their maximum. These 

 factors are mentioned merely to emphasize the truth that what is true 

 of the world's better developed lands is equally true of the hand-to- 

 mouth agriculturalist of the less developed areas, namely, that in- 

 creased production, progress if you will, everywhere in the world is 

 more profoundly affected by the motivations, attitudes, and capabili- 

 ties of its people than by all other factors. 



[A few paragraphs in brackets are indicated here in which to 

 emphasize the fact that fear is a great brake on production among 

 groups and individuals in many walks of life. The rancher in many 

 regions — less often now than formerly, to be sure — sees little sense in 

 increasing his herds and in breeding them up if a revolutionary band 

 may come along at any time and drive them off, without ceremony and 

 without compensation of course, only to barbecue them over the camp- 

 fires of their peripatetic messhall. 



[Latin American writers have used such incidents as the raw mate- 

 rial upon which to base their novels. Gonzalo Picon-Febres dedicated 

 El Sargento Felipe "to the honorable and industrious people of Vene- 

 zuela — the real victim of our civil wars," and then goes on to describe 

 in vivid prose the material and moral ruin of Felipe's home and family. 

 Felipe was rounded up for army sei-vice by a 'government' recruiting 

 patrol. While he was away, his livestock was driven off, his coffee 

 was stolen, and his daughter became the mistress of Don Jacinto, a 

 wealthy landowner. The novel is a series of pictures of country life, 

 and particularly of the havoc of war. The soldierj'^, "pushed into war 

 by hunger and misery, had as their highest ideal the booty to be stolen 

 from those conquered in battle. ... As they passed, the landowner 

 trembled for the fate of his hacienda, the village church for the jewels 

 of the virgin, the businessman for his tiny savings, the working man 

 for his life, and the women for their honor," 



[The foreign corporation with vast tracts in bananas or sugarcane, 

 or whatever, may become so fearful of confiscation without compensa- 

 tion as to allow production to decrease, sometimes even to zero. And 

 of course the fear of "eZ quedirdn^'' of public opinion, may effectively 

 keep people from introducing a new crop, no matter how productive, 

 and a hostile political climate is often sufficient to nip production in 

 the bud or cut it once it has started. The fear of imstable prices in 



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