Colony, Republic, Anarchy

Although there are hints of many contacts with Renga by early European explorers (including Magellan in his historic circumnavigation of the globe), the first recorded contact with the West came in 1642. The Dutch explorer, Abel Tasman, mistook the islands for a western protrusion of the Australian continent, for which he was searching at the time. This demonstration of efficacy of navigation and the European knowledge of geography may indicate some of the reasons why contact between Renga and the outside world continued to be sporadic for more than a century after this. The islands of Renga are, after all, little more than a few fly specks in a rather large ocean. Although post-Renaissance Europe was casting her net over the world, this net was not a fine one, nor was it woven with reliable tools. The long sea voyages which were required were expensive and profit was the primary goal, even when religion was the ostensible one. Windblown sailors sometimes stopped in Renga, using its safe harbors for repairs and restocking with its plentiful food and wood. However, most of the colonial exploration of this early era concentrated on the lucrative areas in the Far East: India, China and Japan.

It was not until the competent navigator, Captain James Cook, claimed Renga for England in 1768, that any regular contact with the western world was established. Although Spain still controlled the Philippines, England was fast becoming the major colonial power in the Orient and Indian Ocean. Already the British Empire was expanding into Indonesia and exploring the southern continent of Australia. Conflict in Europe and America was soon to make this territory Britain's most important economic assets abroad.

Geographically, Renga was strategically placed. Lying directly in the trade wind routes from South Africa to the South Sea Islands, Renga provided a convenient way-station for weary sailors. The deep and sheltered harbors gave protection from winter storms and the fertile islands were capable of producing the range of materials needed to maintain and fit ships from merchantmen to naval vessels. As Britain came to rely on this area of the world economically, so too did she depend upon Renga to make that exploitation possible. While this may seem to overemphasize Renga's role, prior to the opening of the Suez Canal, the islands did not seem as isolated as they appear today. No doubt Britain could have expanded its empire without the resources Renga had to offer, at the same time one cannot question that the islands contributed significantly.

There is relatively strong evidence that the Renganese had several unpleasant encounters with Europeans prior to the coming of the British. However, it does not seem that the plundering by these few and infrequent visitors alerted the Renganese to the danger that they posed or to the terror that was to come. Perhaps it was simply outside of their comprehension that people would cross the vast expanse of ocean to make them slaves. Clearly, acceptance of such a notion would have disrupted this society, which rested on the assumption that individuals act out of a desire for the common good. Their naiveté left them open to easy exploitation. When the Renganese finally accepted the realities of occupation and enslavement, it was far too late to escape them.

In 1779, a previously undistinguished chief petty officer in the British East India Company jumped ship in Renga, then known as New South Brittany, and became the islands' first foreign agent. Were he not the first, Jonathan Waites might have remained undistinguished. A shrewd bully with a small gang of thugs, he was soon the greatest land owner in a land that had never before known private property. His native intelligence and lack of scruples led him to wealth and power. In a few short years, he and others like him were the owners of thousands of slaves. They had also begun the near total destruction of the aboriginal culture. The small habitable land area allowed Waites and his cronies to track down resisters, impose what was virtually a total slave economy, and to prevent any organized revolt. The economy was reorganized to serve the needs of British expansion and the whims of the corrupt and power-hungry slave owners.

For many years, the Crown, content with the logistical support provided in Renga, turned a blind eye towards the islands and made no moves to intervene in the consolidation process. At the height of the Napoleonic wars, the government did take the official step of imposing and collecting taxes. In 1805, Lord Harold Cornwallis arrived in New South Brittany to become its first governor. The governor's role was largely that of a glorified tax collector and the commander of the military forces in his jurisdiction. The navy's role was, of course, to ensure safe passage on the high seas for England's commerce; the land forces were to maintain order. Under Cornwallis's rule, slavery became institutionalized, despite formal government policy against it and public opposition in England. The merchants and slave holders welcomed the services rendered by the military in helping to suppress piracy and recapture escaped slaves. The badge of legality was used to protect interests acquired both illegally and immorally.

From the British pointy of view, this was a period of tremendous economic growth, military power and national pride. Waiteston (now the capital, Kambing), was a busy port, serving trade, naval and whaling ships from a variety of nationalities. New South Brittany itself became a whaling center for a time. Whether the need was rum, food, firewood or prostitutes, Waiteston could provide it. The economy was pressed to its limits, meaning that it was carried on the backs of the enslaved population.

In 1843, at a time when British interests were still strong, the governor Sir Roderick Doyle died and was replaced by Lord Percy Ramsbottom. As a bureaucratic functionary, Ramsbottom did his job just as his predecessors had before him. However, he did turn out to have his eccentricities: he went native. He is of interest historically as the father of Simoy Sariwa (christened Barbara for his first wife), the person generally accepted as the leader of the successful movement for Renganese independence. Sariwa's unusual life circumstances may, indeed, have been the key to Renganese victory in what otherwise might have been a thwarted bid for freedom. Obviously, one person does not make a revolution, yet the dynamic qualities of her personality and her life story stir the Renganese people today. It is appropriate to go into some detail concerning her life and her role in the history of Renga.

Sariwa was the child of Esther Green (Amitoa to her native mother), Lord Percy's second wife and former housekeeper. While children of mixed parentage were common in Renga, as in other colonial outposts and slave societies, it was unusual for them to be treated as legitimate children. Perhaps it is an indicator of Lord Percy's open mindedness or of his loss of contact with reality that he acted as if he were unaware of the opprobrium which British society attached to his choice of wife and his acceptance of his interracial child. Esther, now known as Lady Ramsbottom, was also confused, at best, by her relationship with Lord Percy. While he treated her as a wife, including her in society just as if she were of English noble birth, she was his former slave. While she may in some way have "loved" Lord Percy, Esther was keenly aware of the inequality of the relationship. Despite her privileged role, she seems to have identified with the indigenous population and been opposed to the slave society and British occupation. How she dealt with the contradictions in her life is difficult to comprehend, even for scholars who have read her slender diary and the few surviving letters to Sariwa.

Sariwa herself avoided questions of her mother's paradoxical role in her life. She was always careful to give credit her mother for making her aware of the oppressive conditions in which the people of Renga lived. Sariwa claimed that it was Esther who prompted her to question life in Renga and later it was Esther who encouraged Sariwa to become embroiled in the politics of the islands. Yet, these influences must be held in balance with the stark facts that Sariwa was a child of wealth and privilege, an owner of slaves herself.

Sariwa's first involvement with the underground came when she was only sixteen. She became infatuated with Jonathan Steele, the son of one of the few landholding native families. Jon, having spent a year in school in England, was in the midst of youthful anger and idealism and had managed to contact a small group of insurrectionists. Documents from the time make it clear that the rebel faction at this time had no trust for Steele, who was regarded as a lackey of the Crown, and maintained their contact only in the hopes that they could use him in some way. It is possible that Steele's apparent interest in Sariwa had similar motivations. The impressionable girl became enthusiastic about both the movement for independence and for Mr. Steele. She even met with some of the insurrectionists a few times; however, at this point, her diary suggests that the involvement was more romantic than pragmatic.

When Lord Percy discovered the relationship between his daughter and Steele (from which he had previously been diverted by his wife), he ordered that it stop at once. Rather ironically, he lectured his daughter on the need for her to enter British society and marry in her own class. One can only conclude that Lord Percy had, at best, lost his social compass, at worst, gone off the deep end. For whatever reasons, he could not see Sariwa though the eyes of his homeland.

To remove the possibility of Sariwa's continuing the relationship with Steele, Lord Percy arranged for her to travel abroad and receive an education. In 1861 she left her family and friends and the only world she had ever known. The young woman who left was never to return; she was to be transformed beyond her own recognition. The education she received was hardly the one that Lord Percy had envisioned.

Little is known about the events of this period, as Sariwa kept no journal and the only other potential source of data, her correspondence with Steele, is lost, presumed destroyed. It is easy to speculate on some points. The deep and vicious racism in England at this time ensures that Sariwa was not accepted in British society in the way her father had expected. Perhaps her reception on the continent was a bit warmer, yet she often said later how deeply she was struck by how alike all of Europe seemed, and how different it was from Renga.

This was a time of vast political upheaval in Europe, a time of numerous dynamic political movements, of the birth of communism, fascism and anarchism. Although little is known about how much direct contact Sariwa had with any of those involved with this ferment, it is certain that she was greatly affected by it. Many of her later writings reflect these influences. Sariwa herself often said that the journey opened her eyes in many ways. Her experiences revealed the falsehoods and contradictions of her father's world. The political thought of the time offered new ways of thinking about social and political organization and the political movements provided pragmatic strategies for achieving social and political change.

Many have speculated concerning what contacts Sariwa may have had during her sojourn abroad. Marx lived in London at the same time that she did; she was living in Paris shortly before the establishment of the first commune. However, little can be known with any certainty. Sariwa always spoke much more of what she had learned than whom she had met. One important contact is certain, however. Angus MacDonald, a Scottish nationalist, fell in love with Sariwa in Paris. Though this love was not reciprocated, MacDonald remained devoted to Sariwa and to the Renganese cause. Later he was to play an important role in the country's history.

When Sariwa returned to Renga in 1887, she was no longer Lady Barbara the sheltered daughter of the governor. Nor was she an upper class idealist interested in revolution as a romantic fling. By leaving the country, she had gained an identity as Renganese. She saw herself as a member of the native society and had acquired an understanding of the political and economic realities of her country. No longer a child, she claimed her native name, left the Governor's Mansion and began her work for the revolution in earnest.

She did not entirely give up her influence as a member of the ruling family, however. Through her mother and half-brother, she kept in touch with the official business of the islands and was able to apply some pressure to business interests through her real or impugned influence. She also began work on her first book, British Rule in New South Brittany, Being an Exposé of the Enslavement and Exploitation of the Natives, which was intended to arouse sympathy abroad for the Renganese cause.

The native underground remained skeptical about Sariwa's real interest and intentions. However, as the Governor's daughter she was in a unique position to help the cause and provide intelligence. Lord Percy, still in power but no longer in his right mind, would take no action against his daughter, despite the demands by military authorities and pressure from business and owning interests. Sariwa was able to be a visible, vocal and inviolable leader of revolt. By the time Lord Percy was recalled to London for reasons of incompetence, it was too late to turn the tide back. Already, land and slave owners had been forced to accept changes in legal and economic practices especially in the de facto slavery. Greater freedom of movement, speech and action for the now former slaves gained momentum.

In 1871 a new governor came to replace Lord Percy. His was an uneasy position. Already merchants and international interests were shifting their loyalties, seeing change as inevitable and hoping to retain some economic advantage in the new regime. Only the land owners and former slave holders were holding out hope for a reversal. When the coup came on October 3, 1875, it was almost without violence. Without military and civil support, land owners no longer held their former servants in sway. Uncertainty in the business community had led to concession after concession until there was little more to concede. There was only a nominal military force present and it surrendered without a fight, its Admiral being a staunch opponent of slavery.

To understand the British response to this bid for independence, one must examine the historical and economic context. The use of steamships had made the trade wind routes far less critical and sea journeys more rapid, eliminating some of the need for revictualation. Trade with the Arabian Peninsula had become increasingly important, shifting trade lanes to the north. India and China were filled with foment and resistance, demanding military attention in that area. As Renga's role as a supply depot diminished, it stopped being economically self-supporting. India and China were trouble spots worth fighting for; Renga was not.

A small British fleet consisting largely of sloops and cutter, that is relatively small craft, was dispatched to Renga to blockade the islands, hoping to force submission of the insurrectionaries. Renga's economy, built to operate solely on trade, suffered. The two years that followed were difficult, filled with stories of their own. Merchants who had hoped to profit by supporting the provisional government lost money and wavered, sometimes aiding the blockading fleet. Land reform, freedom of the former slaves and similar post-revolutionary actions served to keep the members of this formerly propertied class a source of counter-revolutionary violence. The new country, like so many, was fragile at first, threatened from both within and without.

Many historians place the real battle for independence not on the day the Renganese remember as Insurrection Day, in 1875, but two years later when the blockade was broken. With money raised for the Renganese cause in Britain, as well as his personal fortune, Angus MacDonald purchased moth-balled frigates, crewing them with idealistic volunteers and vicious paid mercenaries. The Battle of Walcott Roads, fought on August 12, 1877, destroyed the smaller ships of the blockade. The battle was fierce and many died, including MacDonald himself. The rebel fleet, though victorious, was reduced to a single leaking vessel. However, the blockade was broken, and Britain decided to spare no more scarce resources to regain control.

To describe all of the complex and confusing events of the interregnum that followed would encompass far more space than this narrative can justify. It was not only a period of privation and painful transition from an export economy to self-sufficiency; it was also a time without social structures to maintain justice and social order. Many suffered. Former slaves struggled to find and hold new roles in society, often without the benefit of education or the skills needed to maintain the small economy.

Simoy Sariwa is unquestionably the hero of this period. Her guidance and energy at this time, more than her involvement in the insurrection, is what has won her the reputation as the liberator of Renga. Because of her public role in the ousting of the British, the insurrectionaries were forced to give her significant roles in this post-revolutionary period. Surviving documents make it clear that they imagined she would be no more than a figurehead until they could consolidate their victory. However, Sariwa proved their judgment wrong. She proved to be an extraordinarily able politician; her skills at negotiation and community building were often the keys to resolving disputes and empowering the citizens. She was also the theorist whose understanding of economics and political theory provided a framework for a new, stable and democratic government structure.

It is not surprising that, in that "era of democracy," Renga became a republic with a duly elected body of representative legislators. Perhaps more surprising, however, is that Renga did not form a market economy based on capitalism, and chose a more collective and socialist approach to internal economics. Marx and Engels had posed their model of communism for an industrial society, not an agrarian one. Indeed, theory at the time suggested that socialism would emerge as a natural developmental consequence of industrialization. Yet, Sariwa's ideas prevailed. The former plantations became not a patchwork of individual farms, but complex self organizing collectives. There was no single pattern for how communities and collectives structured their work and resources; each developed a slightly different pattern of individual and collective responsibility and reward.

The period between 1885, when the new government ratified its constitution, and 1940 was one of continued struggles. The shift to a self-sufficient economy and the efforts to raise the standard of living and the educational level of the populace and improve health were onerous for this small, isolated and largely forgotten archipelago. There was also a struggle as to whether Renga should seek a place in the modern world. Many of the Renganese people wanted to turn their back on the rest of the world. Understandably, the cruelty the society had experienced at the hands of outsiders offered little incentive to maintain an engagement with the world powers. Being ignored seemed like a blessing. However, Sariwa was again the influential figure who challenged and changed this perspective. She was adamant that the Renganese could not look back, seeking to recreate the now lost aboriginal life; they must look to the future. Too much had changed, too much was lost. Further, she feared that such a turning inward would simply leave her people vulnerable to exploitation in the future. She argued that if the government did not form ties as a nation among nations, the elements of British colonization still within the society would seek to renew Renga's status as a part of Britain. She called for continued engagement with the community of nations, advocating for inclusion in the League of Nations. Formal recognition by the other nation states was, for Sariwa, key to protection by international law and the continued survival of independence. At the same time, she warned of the risks of engagement. Convinced that market capitalism was unhealthy for Renga, she counted on her islands' relative isolation to protect them.

When Sariwa died in 1919, her lasting legacy was surely of this commitment to independence and recognition. While the goal has yet to be fully attained, it is bedrock principle in the country today.

An account of the small but significant victories and defeats in the life of the Renganese during the first part of the twentieth century would neither present a clear picture, nor would it be especially engaging to the reader. From the perspective of a modern industrial society, it will not always be clear how events that were often personal and seemingly local could take on significance. Renga is a small country. Though materially rich, for so small a territory, the Renganese had few skills to tap this wealth; so too, they lacked the resources to acquire them. Trade in raw materials over such long distances was not profitable.

This isolation had benefits as well as liabilities: the populace avoided the influenza plagues of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. However, there were times when aid from other nations would have been welcomed. When two years of drought struck beginning in 1928 and devastated agriculture, the outside world neither knew nor cared. Only through careful planning and organization were deaths from starvation avoided. As it was, malnutrition affected a generation.

Ignored by armies and missionaries alike, the Renganese were left effectively to themselves to create a viable life in the vastness of the south central Indian Ocean.

In 1937, when Japan invaded China, the United States and Britain both came to China's aid. Thus the stage was set for the conflict which was to follow. In 1940, as war began, Britain made tentative inquiries about the prospects of a naval base on Renga. Suddenly, Renga had again gained geopolitical importance.

While Renga had been looking for ways to ease its isolation, this hardly seemed an inviting way for the country to enter the international arena. Renga, having been exploited by England once, was understandably afraid of becoming a very small pawn in the struggles of other nations. However, as events progressed and Japan began what seemed a relentless conquest of the Asia and the Pacific Islands, the Renganese began to fear Japanese aggression more than cooperation with western forces. When Pearl Harbor was attacked in 1941 and even the United States seemed vulnerable, a certain amount of panic set in.

In Renga as in much of the non-industrialized world at the time, the United States, with its publicly stated values of freedom and equality, was widely respected. While the citizenry were fearful of the British, they held what must now be viewed as a naïve trust the U.S. Although the Japanese front was thousands of miles away (indeed, it remained so throughout the war), Renga became an Ally soon after the U.S. entered the war and began negotiations for participation.

In 1942 a "non-aggression and mutual cooperation" treaty was signed with the U.S., more for symbolic than practical value. Although Renga did not create an army of its own, 500 Renganese volunteered and fought beside U.S. regulars. Plans were made in 1943 to construct a U.S. airbase on Garah, a largely uninhabited island in the archipelago. The war ended, however, before the project every passed the planning stages.

Renga survived the war and was, consequently, back on the map. Trade with the U.S. and other western countries expanded. International organizations worked with the Renganese to expand its economy; foreign aid was granted. The Renganese found themselves on the verge of a new era, hopeful, and also uncertain of what it would bring.

Western corporations began to take an interest in Renga. New deposits of zircons, useful in light industry and electronics as well as for jewelry, were opened up. Iron and zirconium deposits were tapped to create a special metals industry. Collectives raising sheep and cotton drew on western technology and local ingenuity to develop a more productive textile industry. It seemed as if Renga was going to acquire the skills and tools it needed to establish a more stable and diversified economy which could support the desired higher levels of education and health. Yet the situation soon became uneasy for the Renganese. They wanted to better develop their resources and maintain a more complex relationship with the outside world. But the cost was not insignificant: foreign corporations demanded that portions of the economy be under private, and foreign, ownership. The loss of local control threatened the communalism that was the basis of the economy. As the influences of industry grew, so too did renewed fear of exploitation.

To add to the Renganese unease, the international political status of the country became uncertain and relations with the United States soon became strained. At the close of the 1940's, the Cold War was already heating up. To the U.S., Renga remained strategically located from a military point of view. With its socialist economy, Renga looked like a potential threat to the capitalist-democratic bloc. The U.S. lost trust in their relations with the Renganese government and even tried, unsuccessfully, to influence internal politics and economic decisions. While the Renganese were anxious to end any military involvement, the U.S. revived its plans for the construction of an airbase on Garah. The Renganese protested this action with little result.

This was largely because the U.S. had silenced, or at least muted, Renga's voice on the international stage. Questioning the legitimacy of its government, the U.S. blocked Renga's recognition by the United Nations, despite its earlier membership in the League of Nations. In an attempt to consolidate its hold over Renga, the U.S. even attempted to have Renga named a protectorate within the United States' sphere of influence. This claim was based on the treaties signed during the war and the fact that Renganese troops had fought in U.S. uniforms. While Britain stepped in to successfully challenge this claim, its failure did not end the U.S. intentions to occupy Renga. The U.S. then asserted that the original treaties and preliminary agreements made during the war had given the island of Garah to the U.S. as an outright grant. At this time, few nations were willing to challenge the western superpower over an issue so small and far away. Without international legal review, the claim went unchallenged.

This combination of political wrangling and the fear of economic exploitation by western corporations led to domestic unrest in Renga. Increasingly the government came under attack, not only for its policies towards investors and the U.S., but also for its actions during World War II.

The early nineteen-fifties were years of difficult decisions for the Renganese people. The costs and benefits of involvement of foreign corporations and governments were discussed seemingly endlessly. The fundamental assumptions in the ways in which the society organized and governed itself were challenged and reconsidered. The close encounter with the U.S. took more than the shine off of the Renganese idealization of that society; it raised fundamental questions about the adoption of American principles of government. Before the dust settled, not only were relations with the U.S. formally severed, both economically and politically, the constitution of Renga had been replaced.

The second Renganese revolution was virtually bloodless and surely moved far more slowly than the first one. Where the war for independence was based on clear-cut issues, the second struggle was fraught with ambiguity. Between what is often marked as the beginning, in 1951 (when the U.S. staked its unequivocal claim on Garah), and the ratification of the new constitution in 1958, several different forms of government were attempted and failed. The discovery of both Soviet and U.S. intelligence personnel created fear and challenged the Renganese to consider security as well as independence. In the end, it was poet and elder statesman Hommel, who challenged the Renganese to risk the most open and decentralized form of political, social and economic organization ever implemented. Building on what was now a half a century's experience with a decentralized and collective approach to economy, Hommel suggested that all of society's needs could be met through such structures. While Hommel himself declined to label his approach to government as rational anarchism, political observers both domestic and from abroad were quick to label it such. Surely, in principle, this could be considered an accurate label.

The movement for this new society faced numerous obstacles. Those with vested interests in international trade opposed it, fearing boycotts by the West. Even after it was adopted, the decentralized and non-hierarchical nature of the structures offered numerous opportunities for dissidents to participate, that it seemed as if the system would not last long. Yet, a system of checks and balances and the vigilant and active participation by the populace has proven to provide more than sufficient stability. Indeed, as the Cold War became less intense and opportunities for trade have arisen, the Renganese have shown impressive flexibility and ingenuity in negotiating mutually beneficial relations with the outside. Today, the economy on Renga is stable with a solid record of productivity and the bureaucracy that has replaced the government is closely watched by the inhabitants. While the citizens remain wary, they feel that the experiment is succeeding.

One of the great mistakes of western scholars has been to describe the modern Renganese as utopians. Renga has lived too close to the edge and in too much conflict with the rest of the world to afford such luxuries. The Renganese are as pragmatic a people as Americans. While we in the West may consider their form of social organization idealistic, for them it works. This is not to say that it eliminates suffering, pain, frustration or anguish. No form of government or economy will change these fundamental human experiences. The Renganese have simply aimed to create a form of freedom for themselves. Like any form of freedom, it creates its own sorts of restrictions. For the Renganese, what counts is that it works. Perhaps outsiders place a label of utopians because the Renganese appear to be relatively happy, a state which can be associated with ignorance by many in the West. The Renganese are anything but naïve. They are a passionate and exuberant people who have found a way to live that serves them. It may be a different solution to the human condition than practiced elsewhere; nonetheless, it is purely pragmatic.

In theory there is no government. The economy is controlled by a decentralized bureaucracy led by groups of workers and consumers. The communal economics and social services are intended to ensure that each individual has opportunity for education and training and to find work in an area of his or her choosing. Basic necessities are available to all. The emphasis in Renganese life is on cooperation and collaboration with others. This social incentive is central in the lives of the people, especially in the relative absence of status based on economic gain or superior authority. In a small island community, social pressure can be a powerful force. The society is regulated, to the extent that it is, by its collective needs and the needs of individuals within it. It is not always easy to evaluate whether or not practice matches theory.

Surely, each inhabitant of Renga appears to feel that he or she is free to choose her or his work and place of residence. Encouragement is given to the sharing of skills. Dangerous and potentially degrading jobs are supposed to be done for only a short period of time, each person taking a turn at them. While this may lead to inefficiencies, it also appears to have significant health benefits. Worker rotations and other regulatory activities are managed by groups of citizens who also fill these roles for short periods. In this way, the Renganese hope to distribute risk and responsibility as widely as possible.

Practice does not always bear out intention. With the returns in community approval as the incentive, there have been unintended results. In spite of the theoretical opportunity for change, most people tend to stay in one job because of the recognition that an economy often on the edge needs stability which might be disrupted by a high turnover in workers. Dangerous and unpleasant jobs have become unexpectedly attractive as there is a certain social prestige that arises from providing these community services. Hardest to change has been the role of social and economic expertise. Despite the rotation of workers and consumers responsible for economic regulation, they must often rely on a more entrenched group of administrative staff. Economics can be a challenging subject for an agricultural worker to master in a short turn on his or her syndicate board. An ingrown bureaucracy ends up, in fact, making many of the crucial decisions for the direction of the society.

Perhaps most worrisome to inhabitants and outside observers alike, is a growing conformity. While all inhabitants of Renga take pride in their ability to dissent and to choose their own life, few exercise these rights and those who do often find it more difficult than expected. The risk is a moribund and conservative society unable or unwilling to take the very kinds of risks it was designed to support. Thus far, the Renganese seem to have kept the purpose of their experiment in sight.

The advantages of the system are great. Whatever the shifts in the economy, whether in Renga or the world at large, availability of both work and basic necessities are assured. All workers, whatever the task, seem to feel that their work is important and valued by themselves and the society at large. While capitalists are often surprised that it is so, pride, hard work an initiative are evident in every phase of Renganese life, despite the absence of monetary advantage. As a people, the Renganese are keenly aware that the outside world is skeptical of their capacity. In response and because of the perceived need for continued international economic strength, the Renganese appear to work even harder.

Whether you consider the Renganese life a true form of freedom or whether you see the Renganese as slaves to political idealism is a judgment which I cannot make. However, the concrete gains of recent years cannot be denied. Although the standard of living remains low by American standards, the Renganese have attained, among other things, a literacy rate higher than in the U.S. While medical care is not as sophisticated as in more developed societies, it is universal and public health indicators such as infant mortality and longevity place it as among the healthiest societies on the planet. Violent crime is virtually unheard of. Communal and mass transportation systems dominate for both people and freight and are both convenient and pleasant to use.

Life in modern Renga, as in aboriginal Renga, is unusual if not unique. While family remains a fundamental social structure, it is not alone is sustaining the common good. Communal and collective structures, both formal and informal, abound. Children do not depend solely on their parents for their needs, support and guidance. Women, even those who are rearing small children alone, are not at an economic disadvantage in this society. There is wide availability of communal day care and many basic tasks that take place exclusively in the home in western cultures are conducted to some degree collectively. These include communal dining rooms and public bathing facilities.

The days of struggle are far from over for Renga. Although great strides have been taken to raise the standard of living and give Renga a firm economic base, there are challenges to be met. Foreign relations remain ambiguous at best. The way of life is in constant danger of manipulation from without and indifference from within. American values, entering society in the form of a variety of media, challenge many of the fundamental assumptions about human nature. While a diversified and stable economy demands trade with the outside world, there are risks in this internationalism.

The most explosive foreign relations issue is the continued conflict with the United States. For more than 25 years, the U.S. illegally maintained military operations on Garah. Since the end of the Cold War, activities have been scaled back and the U.S. has initiated sporadic attempts to negotiate its return to Renga. However, it appears that there was severe environmental damage inflicted upon the island, including spills of nuclear fuel. The U.S. has denied that this is the case, but has refused to allow independent observers explore the issue for security reasons. The United States has refused to support Renga's recognition by the U.N. until this matter is resolved. Renga's world-wide appeals have, for the most part, fallen on deaf ears. It remains to be seen whether Renga can weather these storms and take what it sees as its rightful place in the community of nations.

Perhaps, in the end, the history of Renga is not so different from that of other countries. Yet, few would deny that the current way of life in Renga is unusual. I have tried to trace what I see as the most significant factors which have brought the society to this place in this time. Of necessity, it has been a rough overview. I only hope that I have given the reader some insight into the evolution and dynamic of Renganese culture and society. Perhaps, there are even some lessons for the rest of us here.