Sustainability from an 18th century perspective

Candide

Voltaire

CHAPITRE XVIII

Ce qu'ils virent dans le pays d'Eldorado[1].

Cacambo témoigna à son hôte toute sa curiosité; l'hôte lui dit:
Je suis fort ignorant, et je m'en trouve bien; mais nous avons
ici un vieillard retiré de la cour qui est le plus savant homme
du royaume, et le plus communicatif.  Aussitôt il mène Cacambo
chez le vieillard.  Candide ne jouait plus que le second
personnage, et accompagnait son valet.  Ils entrèrent dans une
maison fort simple, car la porte n'était que d'argent, et les
lambris des appartements n'étaient que d'or, mais travaillés avec
tant de goût, que les plus riches lambris ne l'effaçaient pas.
L'antichambre n'était à la vérité incrustée que de rubis et
d'émeraudes; mais l'ordre dans lequel tout était arrangé réparait
bien cette extrême simplicité.

Le vieillard reçut les deux étrangers sur un sofa matelassé de
plumes de colibri, et leur fit présenter des liqueurs dans des
vases de diamant; après quoi il satisfit à leur curiosité en ces
termes:

Je suis âgé de cent soixante et douze ans, et j'ai appris de feu
mon père, écuyer du roi, les étonnantes révolutions du Pérou dont
il avait été témoin.  Le royaume où nous sommes est l'ancienne
patrie des incas, qui en sortirent très imprudemment pour aller
subjuguer une partie du monde, et qui furent enfin détruits par
les Espagnols.

Les princes de leur famille qui restèrent dans leur pays natal
furent plus sages; ils ordonnèrent, du consentement de la nation,
qu'aucun habitant ne sortirait jamais de notre petit royaume; et
c'est ce qui nous a conservé notre innocence et notre félicité.
Les Espagnols ont eu une connaissance confuse de ce pays, ils
l'ont appelé _Eldorado_; et un Anglais, nommé le chevalier
Raleigh, en a même approché il y a environ cent années; mais,
comme nous sommes entourés de rochers inabordables et de
précipices, nous avons toujours été jusqu'à présent à l'abri de
la rapacité des nations de l'Europe, qui ont une fureur
inconcevable pour les cailloux et pour la fange de notre terre,
et qui, pour en avoir, nous tueraient tous jusqu'au dernier.

La conversation fut longue; elle roula sur la forme du
gouvernement, sur les moeurs, sur les femmes, sur les spectacles
publics, sur les arts.  Enfin Candide, qui avait toujours du goût
pour la métaphysique, fit demander par Cacambo si dans le pays il
y avait une religion.

Le vieillard rougit un peu.  Comment donc! dit-il, en pouvez-vous
douter? Est-ce que vous nous prenez pour des ingrats? Cacambo
demanda humblement quelle était la religion d'Eldorado.  Le
vieillard rougit encore: Est-ce qu'il peut y avoir deux
religions? dit-il.  Nous avons, je crois, la religion de tout le
monde; nous adorons Dieu du soir jusqu'au matin.  N'adorez vous
qu'un seul Dieu? dit Cacambo, qui servait toujours d'interprète
aux doutes de Candide.  Apparemment, dit le vieillard, qu'il n'y
en a ni deux, ni trois, ni quatre.  Je vous avoue que les gens de
votre monde font des questions bien singulières.  Candide ne se
lassait pas de faire interroger ce bon vieillard; il voulut
savoir comment on priait Dieu dans Eldorado.  Nous ne le prions
point, dit le bon et respectable sage; nous n'avons rien à lui
demander, il nous a donné tout ce qu'il nous faut; nous le
remercions sans cesse.  Candide eut la curiosité de voir des
prêtres; il fit demander où ils étaient.  Le bon vieillard
sourit.  Mes amis, dit-il, nous sommes tous prêtres; le roi et
tous les chefs de famille chantent des cantiques d'actions de
grâces solennellement tous les matins, et cinq ou six mille
musiciens les accompagnent.--Quoi! vous n'avez point de moines
qui enseignent, qui disputent, qui gouvernent, qui cabalent, et
qui font brûler les gens qui ne sont pas de leur avis?--Il
faudrait que nous fussions fous, dit le vieillard; nous sommes
tous ici du même avis, et nous n'entendons pas ce que vous voulez
dire avec vos moines.  Candide à tous ces discours demeurait en
extase, et disait en lui-même: Ceci est bien différent de la
Vestphalie et du château de monsieur le baron: si notre ami
Pangloss avait vu Eldorado, il n'aurait plus dit que le château
de Thunder-ten-tronckh était ce qu'il y avait de mieux sur la
terre; il est certain qu'il faut voyager.

Après cette longue conversation, le bon vieillard fit atteler un
carrosse à six moutons, et donna douze de ses domestiques aux
deux voyageurs pour les conduire à la cour.  Excusez-moi, leur
dit-il, si mon âge me prive de l'honneur de vous accompagner.  Le
roi vous recevra d'une manière dont vous ne serez pas mécontents,
et vous pardonnerez sans doute aux usages du pays, s'il y en a
quelques uns qui vous déplaisent.

Candide et Cacambo montent en carrosse; les six moutons volaient,
et en moins de quatre heures on arriva au palais du roi, situé à
un bout de la capitale.  Le portail était de deux cent vingt
pieds de haut, et de cent de large; il est impossible d'exprimer
quelle en était la matière.  On voit assez quelle supériorité
prodigieuse elle devait avoir sur ces cailloux et sur ce sable
que nous nommons or et pierreries.

Vingt belles filles de la garde reçurent Candide et Cacambo à la
descente du carrosse, les conduisirent aux bains, les vêtirent de
robes d'un tissu de duvet de colibri; après quoi les grands
officiers et les grandes officières de la couronne les menèrent à
l'appartement de sa majesté au milieu de deux files, chacune de
mille musiciens, selon l'usage ordinaire.  Quand ils approchèrent
de la salle du trône, Cacambo demanda à un grand officier comment
il fallait s'y prendre pour saluer sa majesté: si on se jetait à
genoux ou ventre à terre; si on mettait les mains sur la tête ou
sur le derrière; si on léchait la poussière de la salle: en un
mot, quelle était la cérémonie.  L'usage, dit le grand-officier,
est d'embrasser le roi et de le baiser des deux côtés.  Candide
et Cacambo sautèrent au cou de sa majesté, qui les reçut avec
toute la grâce imaginable, et qui les pria poliment à souper.

En attendant, on leur fit voir la ville, les édifices publics
élevés jusqu'aux nues, les marchés ornés de mille colonnes, les
fontaines d'eau pure, les fontaines d'eau-rose, celles de
liqueurs de cannes de sucre qui coulaient continuellement dans de
grandes places pavées d'une espèce de pierreries qui répandaient
une odeur semblable à celle du girofle et de la cannelle.
Candide demanda à voir la cour de justice, le parlement; on lui
dit qu'il n'y en avait point, et qu'on ne plaidait jamais.  Il
s'informa s'il y avait des prisons, et on lui dit que non.  Ce
qui le surprit davantage, et qui lui fit le plus de plaisir, ce
fut le palais des sciences, dans lequel il vit une galerie de
deux mille pas, toute pleine d'instruments de mathématiques et de
physique.  

Après avoir parcouru toute l'après-dinée à peu près la millième partie
de la ville, on les remena chez le roi.  Candide se mit à table entre
sa majesté, son valet Cacambo, et plusieurs dames.  Jamais on ne fit
meilleure chère, et jamais on n'eut plus d'esprit à souper qu'en eut
sa majesté.  Cacambo expliquait les bons mots du roi à Candide, et
quoique traduits, ils paraissaient toujours des bons mots.  De tout ce
qui étonnait Candide, ce n'était pas ce qui l'étonna le moins.

Ils passèrent un mois dans cet hospice.  Candide ne cessait de
dire à Cacambo: Il est vrai, mon ami, encore une fois, que le
château où je suis né ne vaut pas le pays où nous sommes; mais
enfin mademoiselle Cunégonde n'y est pas, et vous avez sans doute
quelque maîtresse en Europe.  Si nous restons ici, nous n'y
serons que comme les autres; au lieu que si nous retournons dans
notre monde, seulement avec douze moutons chargés de cailloux
d'Eldorado, nous serons plus riches que tous les rois ensemble,
nous n'aurons plus d'inquisiteurs à craindre, et nous pourrons
aisément reprendre mademoiselle Cunégonde.

Ce discours plut à Cacambo; on aime tant à courir, à se faire
valoir chez les siens, à faire parade de ce qu'on a vu dans ses
voyages, que les deux heureux résolurent de ne plus l'être, et de
demander leur congé à sa majesté.

Vous faites une sottise, leur dit le roi: je sais bien que mon
pays est peu de chose; mais, quand on est passablement quelque
part, il faut y rester.  Je n'ai pas assurément le droit de
retenir des étrangers; c'est une tyrannie qui n'est ni dans nos
moeurs ni dans nos lois; tous les hommes sont libres; partez
quand vous voudrez, mais la sortie est bien difficile.  Il est
impossible de remonter la rivière rapide sur laquelle vous êtes
arrivés par miracle, et qui court sous des voûtes de rochers.
Les montagnes qui entourent tout mon royaume ont dix mille pieds
de hauteur, et sont droites comme des murailles: elles occupent
chacune en largeur un espace de plus de dix lieues; on ne peut en
descendre que par des précipices.  Cependant, puisque vous voulez
absolument partir, je vais donner ordre aux intendants des
machines d'en faire une qui puisse vous transporter commodément.
Quand on vous aura conduits au revers des montagnes, personne ne
pourra vous accompagner; car mes sujets ont fait voeu de ne
jamais sortir de leur enceinte, et ils sont trop sages pour
rompre leur voeu.  Demandez-moi d'ailleurs tout ce qu'il vous
plaira.  Nous ne demandons à votre majesté, dit Cacambo, que
quelques moutons chargés de vivres, de cailloux, et de la boue du
pays.  Le roi rit: Je ne conçois pas, dit-il, quel goût vos gens
d'Europe ont pour notre boue jaune: mais emportez-en tant que
vous voudrez, et grand bien vous fasse.

Il donna l'ordre sur-le-champ à ses ingénieurs de faire une
machine pour guinder ces deux hommes extraordinaires hors du
royaume.  Trois mille bons physiciens y travaillèrent; elle fut
prête au bout de quinze jours, et ne coûta pas plus de vingt
millions de livres sterling, monnaie du pays.  On mit sur la
machine Candide et Cacambo; il y avait deux grands moutons rouges
sellés et bridés pour leur servir de monture quand ils auraient
franchi les montagnes, vingt moutons de bât chargés de vivres,
trente qui portaient des présents de ce que le pays a de plus
curieux, et cinquante chargés d'or, de pierreries, et de
diamants.  Le roi embrassa tendrement les deux vagabonds.

Ce fut un beau spectacle que leur départ, et la manière
ingénieuse dont ils furent hissés eux et leurs moutons au haut
des montagnes.  Les physiciens prirent congé d'eux après les
avoir mis en sûreté, et Candide n'eut plus d'autre désir et
d'autre objet que d'aller présenter ses moutons à mademoiselle
Cunégonde.  Nous avons, dit-il, de quoi payer le gouverneur de
Buenos-Ayres, si mademoiselle Cunégonde peut être mise à prix.
Marchons vers la Cayenne, embarquons-nous, et nous verrons
ensuite quel royaume nous pourrons acheter.

Liberty’s Domination

Liberty’s Domination

By Kit Martin

Gros portrays a multi-layered Napoleonic society, through use of contrast, color, and composition. Napoleon Bonaparte Visiting The Plague House at Jaffa, painted by Gros, debuted at the salon of 1804. It depicts Near Eastern men treating French Soldiers stricken with bubonic plague. The general, Napoleon, is visiting the French, but inspires some of the Oriental men, thus he presides over the image. But the men are divided by different values of light. He is the focal point. It is an image divided into multiple parts, delineated by archways, unified by the colors of the tricolor. But there are tensions under the unity that the red, white and blue provide. Shadows cast the non-European caregivers under the first archway in partial darkness, separating them from Napoleon and the other fully lit men. This same darkness, however, covers the most desperately sick French soldiers. This suggests a fraternal bond between soldiers and Orientals, all unified, by the tricolor, but simultaneously separated by the gradations of light. To understand the fraternal unity that Gros suggests, we have to examine what Gros suggests it is to be Oriental, as contrasted with Linda Nochlin’s later examination. It provokes a question: what does it mean to be an Oriental, or French, in Gros’ Jaffa, bound individually, but unified under the tricolor of liberty. In other words, he suggests that the French think they can dominate Jaffa, because they believe their liberty is superior to whatever came before.

In Said’s words, Orientalism was formed “as a mode for defining the presumed inferiority of the Islamic Orient… [it was] part of the vast control mechanism of colonialism, designed to justify and perpetuate European dominance. [1] Dominance, Nochlin says, relies on defining whose reality we are talking about, “For instance, the degree of realism (or lack of it) in individual Orientalist images can hardly be discussed without some attempt to clarify whose reality we are talking about.”[2] In other words, Orientalism is an attempt to define an interpretation of reality to justify ‘civilizing’ action. This is what Gros intends to do in The Pest House. By painting the picture of orient clothed in liberty’s red, white and blue, Gros implies that the liberty of France is good for the residents (denizens) of the orient. Though unlike artist such as Geromé or Gericault, Gros does not depict the Oriental as morally degradable. These oriental men are not decontextualized from westerners. They are completely immersed in them.

For Nochlin, the Orient and the picturesque are tied together. “There are never any Europeans in “picturesque” views of the Orient like these, it might be said that one of the defining features of the Orientalist painting is its dependence for its very existence on a prescence that is always an absence: the Western colonial or touristic prescence.”[3] The question for Gros is, does The Pest House at Jaffa, count as one of these “’picturesque’ views of the Orient?” This question underlines the tension between liberty and dominance that this painting depicts. This tension can be seen when The Pest House is contrasted with Nochlin’s description of Orientalist painting in general. According to her, it “managed to body forth two ideological assumptions about power: one about men’s power over women; the other about white men’s superiority to, hence justifiable control over, inferior, darker races precisely chose who indulge in this sort of regrettably lascivious commerce.”[4] But, in the Pest House, there are a number of signs that the subject is not ignoble: for example, it offers the Islamic minaret as almost equal to the French tricolor, by positioning it only slightly lower than the French Flag.

Gros’ Pest House suggests that the oriental man is as capable of having liberty and reason as a French man. In essence, though the French and the Oriental may be separated, both are joined together by the tricolor and Napoleon. For Patricia Anna Simpson, the degradation of the other, a “baser instinct”, according to Freud, would be supplanted by the liberating (civilizing) mission of universal brotherhood:

Power and sexual domination are inextricably linked, yet we yield to what Freud would call our “baser instincts” to the rule of law, the conforming pressures of education, religion, ethics, and other social institutions, in order to engage in the elaborate negations between private desire and public survival.[5]

Thus, though the oriental town of Jaffa has been penetrated and its population dominated, this image shows Near Eastern men wearing the red, white and blue of liberty, suggesting their assimilation. These men have been conquered by Napoleon and thus liberated by the tricolor. This tension is part of the Pest House’s composition. The three-and-a-half archways divide the image into as many parts.

The left arch is in a Turkish pattern. The lighting in this section is the darkest. Even the small windows, which should cast ample light, are dim. Possibly the Islamic lattice work obstructs the rays. The low value of the light marks this archway as the place most separate from the French state. Here a desperate French soldier reaches out his blue-coated and red-cuffed arms to receive aid from an Oriental. But notably, the Oriental, his determined face cast in light is dressed in the tricolor. Implying he is an agent of the French Empire. With his back turned toward Napoleon, Gros suggests this agent’s ambivalence to the Emperor. Furthermore, his assistant, standing behind him turns and gazes at Napoleon, with an inquisitive look, as if to say, “Can you help them?” Here, the spectacle is the general not the oriental. Additionally, under the Turkish arch are the dejected soldiers of the French republic. The dead, the dying, and the morbidly depressed, that is the ones Napoleon will abandon under the Turkish domain. The value of light in the left-most arch depicts the limits to the unity of the tricolor. All are unified within the frame by it, but some wear its colors more dimly.

The center arch frames the tricolor, recently raised over the conquered city of Jaffa. Underneath the furling stripes, Napoleon stands examining a soldier. The centrality of this arch can be seen in the archway’s luminosity. The main act of the painting is what Napoleon is doing. He seems to be comforting the soldier with his touch. Thus, the center pane in this three-and-a-half-part work contains Gros’ unifying theme: liberty of the tricolor under the central command of Napoleon.

The last full arch, on the right hand side, frames the Islamic minaret. Underneath it, one of the two characters not clad in the tricolor in the entire work –a man in Near Eastern robes– treats a French soldier’s ulcerous side. Notably, this man is dressed in the orange, green and white that the City of Jaffa is painted in, which labels him as a resident of it. This man who is under the Islamic minaret is treating the French. Like the Oriental man under the left arch, he too is concentrated on his work. So we see that Gros has attempted to show these men as hard working, and at least one of them, as under the Islamic Minaret (thus under Islam), and seems to take no issue with this arrangement. This in contrast to one of Nicholin’s observation: “The vice of idleness was frequently commented by Western travelers to Islamic countries in the nineteenth century, and in relation to it, we can observe still another striking absence in the annals of Orientalist art: the absence of scenes of work and industry.”[6] Of course, the tricolor in the central arch is slightly higher than the top of the minaret, suggesting liberty’s transcendence over it. But this dominate position does not seem to arise from the degradation of the orientals’ values or actions.

The last arch (half an arch) frames the forgotten elements of the campaign. Framed by the arch is an empty sky. There are three men under it: a corpse, a moribund soldier, and a blind man who without eyes looks out at the audience. His gaze engages us, without seeing us. He says, “what good was this invasion, if the result is our death and suffering?” His question seems supported by the composition of the half arch, as the arch is half finished so too is the imperial project. Additionally, the blind man is the only other man not dress in the tricolor, he is no longer part of the liberating mission. Under this half arch, are the partially finished elements that Napoleon left behind in Jaffa. This irresolution seems to justify, and describe Napoleon’s actions to his viewer, by saying “there are consequences, but look at the good results in the other three full panes.” The viewer would then be supposed to support Napoleon’s continued aggression.

The ideal viewer of the Plague House was the French in the Metropole at the salon of 1804. It was painted after the French had withdrawn from the Ottoman domains of Egypt and Syria. The work was not telling a tale to the subjects of, or the French soldiers in, the Ottoman Empire. It was designed to hang for the French population, and to suggest to them the position of the Empire “truthfully.” The “truth” was that the Empire was better at controlling and respecting the Islamic culture, so it had a right to invade it, but this invasion had subsequent consequences, and Gros here shows them. In other words, this image justifies Frances involvement in the Ottoman domains to French viewers by showing the liberty it brought to the caregivers (even respecting their Islamic faith). At the same time though it depicts the negative repercussions of Napoleons’ conquests. It suggests that these wars are hard, but they are worth it all. This could be seen in the dim value in the left hand arch, and the brilliant value of light in the right hand side. The Empire’s conquest is like Nochlin’s consumption of the orient: “the (male) viewer was invited sexually to identify with, yet morally distance himself from, his Oriental counterparts depicted within the objectively inviting yet racially distancing space of the painting.”[7] If the orient is a place to live out the imagined desires of the viewer –in this case to penetrate as progenitors of the cause of liberty – without having to actually identify with the group the fantasy treats, than Pest House at Jaffa asks its viewers to identify with Napoleon’s conception of freedom through domination, without considering the cultural annihilation this domination may entail.

The ideal viewer of this work was a domestic Parisian. This work asks the viewer to have faith in Napoleon, and the Empire’s ability to spread the cause of freedom. It shows in the dejected remnants, the blind and dying soldiers, the real costs of liberation. It shows them in detail suggesting the realities of the endeavor. In the right most full arch the possible gains of the endeavor are shown. The freedom granted to the just religion of Islam is supported by the hard working efforts of the man dressed in the native colors of his hometown – namely, Jaffa. It suggest that if we conqueror and suffer as French men, we can bring freedom to people who need it. Napoleon is under the center arch to guide this just mission of liberty under the tricolor, fully aware of the consequences his campaign has on the injured soldier he is touching, but he strives on under the light and the tricolor of liberty. His struggle of light raise’s up all people to serve the cause of liberty, even when they are only partially in its light. The motion of coming into the light from the darkness is shown in the left most arch. Here, two oriental men aid a desperate, probably dying French soldier. But this desperation is motivating, because it demonstrates universal fraternity of all under the tricolor. For Gros, the Oriental men are just as capable to express reason and hard work as French men. In other words, the civilizing mission has every hope of success.

So, does The Pest House at Jaffa, count as one of these ‘“picturesque” views of the Orient’?[8] Clearly, Gros suggests that the French have every right to dominate and consume the orient. But here the westerners are the main exhibit in the painting. The Westerns are not ‘presently absent’, but, predominately present. The orient is not decontextualized to become the canvas to show Westerners inner desire to dominate and penetrate.  Instead, the westerners domination, the reasons why they should dominate, and the repercussions of attempting this domination, are depicted quite literally. Further, the viewer is asked to continue supporting this domination. So, if the later Orientalism allowed the viewer to vicariously take possession of the oriental female and live out the “inner base” desires that he contained, than The Plague House at Jaffa depicts this inner desire as they happen. But Gros, unlike Geromé or Gericault, depicts the price by showing the French men used to achieve this domination. This price then becomes a noble sacrifice, demanded of all Frenchmen, as in Anna Simpson’s post-Napoleonic Germany, so to in its progenitor Napoleonic France. For imperial France, Nation (and the domination it requires) is a call of duty:

Allegiance to the nation becomes invested with a life force that is not optional in the definition of masculinity. National Feeling, identification between the self and the nation, becomes a category of love; it posits an organic relationship… between the individual and his fatherland, forging a fraternal bond across regional and class distinctions that contribute to a singular national trajectory.[9]

Thus, Napoleon Bonaparte Visiting The Plague House at Jaffa calls the Parisian viewers to continue to support the cause of liberty, despite its costs.

---

[1]Edward Said, as in Nochlin, Linda. The Politics of Vision: Essay on 19^th-Century art and Society. New York, Harper & Row, 1989. Pp 34

[2] Ibid

[3] Nochlin, Linda. The Politics of Vision: Essay on 19^th-Century art and Society. New York, Harper & Row, 1989. Pp 37

[4] Ibid, pp 45

[5] Simpson, Patricia Anna. The Erotics of War in German Romanticism. Lewisburg,

Bucknell University Press, 2006. Pp 22

[6] Nochlin, Linda. The Politics of Vision: Essay on 19^th-Century art and Society. New York, Harper & Row, 1989. Pp 39

[7] Nochlin, Linda. The Politics of Vision: Essay on 19^th-Century art and Society. New York, Harper & Row, 1989. Pp 45

[8] Nochlin, Linda. The Politics of Vision: Essay on 19^th-Century art and Society. New York, Harper & Row, 1989. Pp 37

[9] Simpson, Patricia Anna. The Erotics of War in German Romanticism. Lewisburg,

Bucknell University Press, 2006. Pp 23

Dependence

Dependence as a Defense

Though development models develop over time, not fully formed, but trying to reach a new way of doing (Silvia, 68), it seems aid doesn’t work to create financing, because things fall apart. Easterly points to collapsing business dreams because of on-going managerial and mechanical failure. The gears in the machines simply couldn’t be maintained (Easterly, 27) in the new environments old methods were develop for (Easterly, 68). Silvia points to rising social pressures, inflation, and as a result,a dependency on international financing to keep on track (68). This failure to create repeatable methods of production, amounts to a requirement for context specific solutions, so that people using the investment get to the right place: a better life for everyone. The important point is the direction of that investment, what was it intended to do? For me its like a vegetable garden, merely pouring fertilizer on, will create growth, but if left untended weed and pest growth is more likely than ‘intended’ outputs — namely vegetables. But of course, aid investment can include gardeners (“technological expertise” 68, or more simply a skilled workforce, Silvia 75), to keep the garden producing the intended output.  Gardeners direct the fertilizing in order to stimulate a specifically desirable form of growth. This was termed aid to investment growth, but the financing gap approach created artificial growth rates that would only continue as long as fertilizer was applied (Easterly 29) correctly by the gardeners. The Gardeners were all trained in the west.  Likewise, under import substitution, periodic stabilization efforts were required to keep Latin American industrializations on track (Silvia 75).

(Attempt to prepare garden spots, import substitutions were applied in order to rapidly grow industrial capacity,  first in Chile, but later in many South American countries (Siliva 70).

These unique financing attempts created a treadmill situation: countries needed the aid to merely pay back the aid investment (Bauer, 1972, Silvia 73). RMSM were created with the understanding that aid could create this dependency cycle (Easterly 35).  This dependency cycle seems a given when aid investment to make up a financing gap, is short hand for money to buy machines to replace labour, where the means to maintain the machines are all held by the donors, and thus the continued supply of these essential ingredients in production require the continued well-wishes of those donors. How could Entrepreneurial  dreams ‘take-off’ (Rostow) when the means of production are locked away in Western durable goods manufacturers? How could transplants be expected to be as vibrant as native species of plants, co-evolved with their environment? The implementation of innovative growth solutions through labour saving technology (Solow 1956-57) are guarded by Western spare parts manufacturers: the supporting industrial services developed to support mechanization, are much slower growing (Silvia, 67-87) than mere machines that stamp aluminum (Easterly, 68). In short access to growth ingredients, machines, and people able to invent new  more labour efficient machines (be they Focaultian or mechanical), limits  Rostowian take-off dramatically.

Given the Communist scare in the West at the time, the question for me is, was this dependence the desired result? The West provides machines and loans, that countries cannot service themselves, so that they have to come-back when it breaks and ask for more aid to fix it, so that communism wont spread. This conspiratorial line of reasoning becomes all too likely in the face of Kennedy’s assertion: “In our time these new nations need help… to reach the stage of self sustaining growth… for a special reason. Without exception they are all under Communist pressure” (33). So then financing the gap, was deploying western capital to the front lines in order to keep back the soviet boogie-man. The soviets were scary because they created a foil to the creation of monetarily dependent states arrayed under the banner of Western capital flows, for a time they seemed to “produce more” from the “centralized character of the operation.” Seems almost laughable given how spectacularly the USSR imploded, but given Easterly’s triumphant language at the Union’s fall — “I wondered how the Soviets managed to fool us for so long” (33) — this boogie man seems to have been a real specter that formed real policy. These policies created an array of dependent ‘allies’ (Rio Conference 1947) in the containment of the USSR. Given Global Souths intended purpose, is it any wonder that these nations did not become self-sustaining? ”The Third World, far from being peripherl, was central to superpower rivalry and the possibility of nuclear confrontation. The system that generates conflict and instability and the system that generates underdevelopment are inextricably bound” (Escobar 1995). In short, The Third World was built as a bulwark, a wall. Walls protect communities, they are not meant to be communities, merely buffers. Not places where community, culture and monetary life thrive, but a protection against intrusion into the Western community, culture and monetary life by the Reds.

The truly ironic part, as easterly points out (37), is these same holding measures, financial and technical dependency on the West, were instituted in the former Soviet republics. The truly scary thing is even without the USSR, the aid policy continued to build dependent walls, even without a clear enemy to protect against.

Is this a case of preparing for the last war, the cold war, while the next one comes? Are dependent countries the Maginot Line (1929-1936) writ large on the Cold War nuclear global battlefield (Escobar, 34)?

A way to explore this idea – that dependency was intended – would be to explore The USSR : they likely employed this technocracy to maintain its territory as well.

Also, it would be good to compare contested Cold war battlefields, to non, that is control for the battle field nations, and see if the remaining Global South did have a more positive experience.

Easterly, William. The Elusive Quest

Encountering Development: the making and unmaking of the Third World

Silvia, Eduardo. The Import-Substitution Model: Chile in Comparative Perspective