In 1961 twenty latin american countries signed a document which committed them “to reform tax laws, demanding more from those who have most, to punish tax evasion severely, and to redistribute the national income in order to benefit those who are most in need while, at the same time, promoting savings and investment and reinvestment of capital.” Both before and since this declaration a great deal of research on taxation has been carried out in Latin America, and even more has been said about the “need” for tax “reform.”

A decade ago, the study of pidgin and creole languages was highly compartmentalized. Very few linguists dealt with both pidgins and creoles. Few students of creole English were aware of current studies in other widely separated geographical areas, even of studies of the same language (e.g., Chinese pidgin English, Hawaiian English, Jamaican creole, and West African Krio). This compartmentalization is now rapidly breaking down. Linguists now view pidgins and creoles as two phases, perhaps even as only two aspects, of the same linguistic process. The geographical and interlingual barriers have so eroded that although a linguist may think of himself as primarily a Caribbeanist or a French creolist, he can no longer ignore work in other areas and other languages. Students of Haitian French and of Trinidadian English realize that they are dealing not with similar linguistic problems, but with the same linguistic problem. There is an increasing tendency to speak not of creoles but of creole.

“If you gotta ask, man, you ain't never gonna know,” satchmo Armstrong once said when someone asked him, “What is jazz?” Such an answer might also fit the question, “What is the state of our knowledge of what to do about illiteracy and ignorance in Latin America.” But the question has been asked in serious company accustomed to thoughtful answers—answers that guide and energize. So we will try to examine what is speculated, what is known, what is being investigated, and what we need to know most in order to establish contact with that vast terra incognita in Latin America comprising the illiterate and the unlearned.

In the last several years an increasing number of political scientists have turned to Latin America as their principal area interest. Many of these academicians have been trained in the various sub-disciplines of political science and turn to Latin America as a meaningful laboratory for the study of specific political groups or processes.

This report presents the results of a preliminary survey of North American firms that operate in Latin America. Its purpose was to uncover sources for economic historians and economists in an area that is largely unknown and unused. Firms that have deposited their materials in public archives in the United States have not been included in the survey; they will be described in the forthcoming Guide to Latin American Historical Materials in the United States, which is being organized by Gunnar Mendoza.

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?

Since the late 1950's interest in Latin American university student politics has increased in this country. Such concern has mainly focused on the contemporary importance of Latin American university student movements. Detailed and sophisticated socio-political analyses have been rendered, with the end in mind, though not always, of explaining the political socialization of Latin American university students, i.e., what makes a student a radical or a conservative. Frequently, the exegetes of Latin American university student politics have made references to the problem of historical origins. In that connection, reference has been made to the University Reform Movement, in particular, to the Córdoba events of June 1918.