A worldwide scheduled air transportation system for passengers, cargo, and mail has been created since World War II. In its global scope it is almost unique; the International Air Transport Association's only prototype is the Universal Postal Union, which for over a century has been the intergovernment vehicle for arranging the expeditious, reliable interchange of foreign mails between nations. Somewhat comparable to IATA in purpose but much more limited geographically, are such arrangements as those which provide for the transfer of electric power across the border between the United States and Canada, the coordination of highway, waterway, and railway traffic respectively in Europe, and the international telephone, cable, and radio services. The general public does not know—and has little need to know—what has gone on behind the scenes to create these facilities which in essence are large international public utility systems. A typical person's impressions would probably reflect his nationality. An American would probably assume that the individual components of such a utility system were privately owned and operated for commercial profit (except for the Postal Service). A European would tend to assume that electric power companies, railroads, airlines, telecommunications companies, and the Postal Service would all be owned by some government. Each would be substantially correct in his own context.

The appraisal of development projects is often complicated by the fact that they rarely occur in isolation. In Latin America, the effectiveness of public housing programs and the reactions of the people involved are, as a rule, bound up with the whole complex of heterogeneous developments we call “urbanization.” And when public housing reaches the villages, it typically goes hand in hand with agrarian reform. This is generally the case in Venezuela, where large public housing schemes have been in operation since 1958.

Consequently it is difficult to disentangle and then evaluate the impact of industrialization per se from social infrastructure development in the towns, or agrarian reform per se from social infrastructure development in the villages. The Guayana region of Venezuela is one of the few areas where a production-oriented project and a social welfare project have operated discretely, but within a uniform socioeconomic context.

To compare race relations is even harder than to compare systems of slavery. However variously slavery may be defined, it is at least systematized—that is, slave trading, labor, provisioning, punishment, rebellion, and manumission are viewed as clear-cut categories, often formally codified and self-consciously compared with conditions elsewhere.

In race relations none of this is true. Race itself may refer to anything from a linguistic community to a genealogically isolated population, and contexts shift through time as well as across cultures. In the narrower sense, races, as distinct from ethnic elements, are not even groups; individual behavior and self-images are not congruent with external identifications. Relationships considered “racial” may be limited to certain public or legal institutions in one society, but in another may include psychological responses in most realms of life. In short, race relations can be compared only in the context of entire social systems.

During the past twelve years almost half a million Cubans have sought refuge in Miami. Among them were over 14,000 unaccompanied children between 6 and 18 years of age. This article tells for the first time the story of how the children's exodus began. It covers the period between the middle of November 1960, when we first became aware of the need, and 1 February 1961, when I met with the Secretary of the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare to brief him on the plight of the unaccompanied children among the refugees. Two days later, President Kennedy announced a government aid program for Cuban refugees which included money for the care of unaccompanied children, “the most troubled group among the refugee population.”

About 4:30 p.m. on 26 December 1960, Pan American World Airways Flight 422 from Havana touched down at Miami International Airport. There were few passengers, if any, on that flight who did not experience a real sense of relief as they descended from the airplane. Events in Cuba were rapidly moving toward a climax and those who could were joining the increasing exodus to Miami.

Long a region seemingly immune to modernization and relegated to governmental neglect, the Brazilian Amazon has nonetheless frequently been the theme of political rhetoric. While the area has stagnated, Brazilians have continually referred to it as the “Land of Promise.” Now, however, it appears that Amazonia is finally to become a major government beneficiary.

An area comprising 42 percent of Brazil's territory but only about three percent of its population, a land often inaccurately portrayed as both a “Green Hell” and a “Green Paradise,” the Amazon recently has been selected by President Garrastazu Médici as the site of a major development effort. Its colonization and economic development have been assigned priority status within the president's “Plan for National Integration.”

In recent years students of contemporary Argentine letters have begun to recognize the importance of the period 1946-1955 as one of crisis, of fundamental reassessment, and of generational strife. Though it would be an oversimplification to assign the cause of these trends to the political and social changes wrought by Juan D. Perón, the study of his regime—particularly as it affected cultural activity—can help put into clearer focus the confusing picture of literary groups, “generations,” and promociones that confronts the student of recent Argentine literature.

It should be emphasized that peronismo, for better or for worse, was more than an exclusively political movement: its influence was also farreaching in broad areas of popular culture, social standards, in matters of dress, speech, and in the use of leisure time. Its effects were complex, but on balance they all tended to produce a feeling of relaxation, a looseningup of formalities and traditional practices: stuffed shirts were displaced by descamisados; the normal work week was frequently broken up by strikes and government encouraged vacations; formal attire was no longer required at the opera; and many of the public parks that previously had, by some unwritten law, been considered the semi-private preserve of the middle and upper classes, became crowded with picnicking workers and their families.

On 24 June 1969 the military government of Peru, exercising its de facto power to issue legislation by decree, promulgated a law of agrarian reform. In Latin America legal norms—even radical ones—are not necessarily to be feared. Many countries have agrarian reform laws and in most of these agrarian structures have not been changing rapidly. Indeed, the previous administration in Peru had passed a mild law in 1964, but the hacienda structure of the Peruvian Andes remained virtually intact. Few feared that the new code enacted by the military would present a strong challenge to tradition.

Forty-eight hours after its promulgation opinions began to change. The government announced that interventors were being sent to eight of the largest sugar estates on the northern coast. Intervention is the first step toward expropriation. The sugar estates lie at the heart of the Peruvian oligarchy: they were exempt from the 1964 legislation.

An article by Professors Richard B. Gray and Frederick R. Kirwin entitled “Presidential Succession in Chile: 1817-1966” and subsequent correspondence with one of the coauthors encouraged me to write a similar study on Ecuador. In researching the available material on the subject I can well appreciate the reasons for the great lack of comparative data on the Latin American presidency and the need for additional studies on this subject.

Of the few sources available on Ecuador's presidents no two provide exactly the same information. This pertains to biographical data as well as to time served in the executive office. There is even disagreement as to who served at a given time. Some of these discrepancies are the result of the turbulent events of the first three decades of Ecuador's republican history during which the country attempted to make strides toward the establishment of a national identity.

A revolutionary change in the shape of inter-American relations has taken place in the last few years. The most casual observer is aware of this fact but it is difficult to assess the effects of the changes and to determine the prevailing tendency for the future. Fidel Castro's takeover of Cuba in 1959 appeared for a while to be just another Latin American “revolution” but it soon developed into a major threat to United States hegemony, confirmed by the ensuing missile crisis which marked the entry of another great power into the Western Hemisphere, a major zone of United States influence. Nothing in the Americas has been the same since then, although the effects of Castro's regime on other American States continue to be debated with more heat than light. Results tend to reflect previously established positions on the nature both of Castro's government and that of the states influenced by his activities.