Families in context: a world history of population 9780313278303

Table of contents :
Frontmatter
Preface (page ix)
Part I Introduction (page 1)
Chapter 1. General Considerations (page 3)
Chapter 2. Early Human Experience Through the Neolithic Era (page 27)
Part II The Age of Regional Cities and Peasantry: 3500 B.C. to A.D. 1500 (page 61)
Chapter 3. General Considerations; Southwest Asia, North Africa, and Europe (page 63)
Chapter 4. South, East, and Southeast Asia; Africa South of the Sahara; and the Americas (page 97)
Part III The Age of World Cities: Late 15th Through 20th Centuries A.D. (page 129)
Chapter 5. Europe: Western, Mediterranean, Central, and Eastern (page 131)
Chapter 6. The Americas and the Pacific (page 179)
Chapter 7. Africa South of the Sahara, North Africa, and Southwest Asia (page 233)
Chapter 8. India (South Asia) and China (page 295)
Chapter 9. Southeast Asia, Korea, and Japan (page 335)
Conclusion From the Age of World Cities to the Global Village (page 375)
Bibliography (page 389)
Index (page 429)

Citation preview

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT

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“A Policy Calculated to Benefit China”: The United States and the China Arms Embargo, 1919-1929 Stephen Valone The Politics of Anti-Japanese Sentiment in Korea: Japanese-South Korean Relations Under American Occupation, 1945-1952 Sung-hwa Cheong Disputed Pleasures: Sport and Society in Preindustrial England Thomas S. Henricks Origins of Muslim Consciousness in India: A World-System Perspective Syed Nesar Ahmad The Persistence of Youth: Oral Testimonies of the Holocaust Josey G. Fisher, editor The Silent Holocaust: Romania and Its Jews [. C. Butnaru

Tea in China: The History of China’s National Drink John C. Evans

The Strange Connection: U.S. Intervention in China, 1944-1972 Bevin Alexander Medieval Games: Sports and Recreations in Feudal Society John Marshall Carter

Families in

Context___. A World History of Population G. ROBINA QUALE

GREENWOOD PRESS , New York ¢ Westport, Connecticut « London

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Quale, G. Robina (Gladys Robina).

Families in context : a world history of population / G. Robina Quale.

p. cm.—(Contributions to the study of world history, ISSN 0885-9159 ; no. 35) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-313-27830-—X (alk. paper) 1. Family—History. 2. Family—Cross-cultural studies.

I. Title. II. Series. HQ503.Q347 1992

306.85’09—dc20 91-35713 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available.

Copyright © 1992 by G. Robina Quale

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, by any process or technique, without the express written consent of the publisher. Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 91-35713 ISBN: 0-313-27830—X ISSN: 0885-9159 First published in 1992 Greenwood Press, 88 Post Road West, Westport, CT 06881 An imprint of Greenwood Publishing Group, Inc. Printed in the United States of America

The paper used in this book complies with the Permanent Paper Standard issued by the National Information Standards Organization (Z39.48-1984).

100 9 8 7 6 5 43 2 1

To all who have been my colleagues, students, and friends at Albion College: thank you for thirty-five exhilarating and instructive years

Contents

Preface ix Part I 1 Introduction

Chapter 1. General Considerations 3

Part Il 61

Chapter 2. Early Human Experience Through the Neolithic Era 27

The Age of Regional Cities and Peasantry:

3500 B.c. to A.D. 1500 |

and Europe 63

Chapter 3. General Considerations; Southwest Asia, North Africa,

Chapter 4. South, East, and Southeast Asia; Africa South

of the Sahara; and the Americas 97

Part Ill 129

The Age of World Cities: Late 15th Through 20th Centuries A.D.

Chapter 5. Europe: Western, Mediterranean, Central, and Eastern 131

Chapter 6. The Americas and the Pacific 179

viii CONTENTS and Southwest Asia 233

Chapter 7. Africa South of the Sahara, North Africa,

Chapter 8. India (South Asia) and China 295 Chapter 9. Southeast Asia, Korea, and Japan 335

Index 429

Bibliography 389 Conclusion From the Age of World Cities to the Global Village 375

Preface When I was growing up in northwest lower Michigan, a band of Chippewa Indians ceased hunting and fishing along part of the lower Manistee River and moved to Chippewa lands about a hundred miles away. As we drove along the new road that was then built through where those Chippewa had lived, my parents would look at the beautiful country and say to each other, “How the Indians must have hated to give this up!” It was my first introduction to the re-

ality that there can be losses for some in what are gains for others. The foraging-subsistence era was over, though it had lasted in Michigan into my own early lifetime, and the industrial-commercial era of motorized transporta-

tion had taken its place. When | arrived at the University of Michigan in 1948, this recognition underlay the strong interest I soon began to take in fellow students from newly in-

dependent countries who were preparing to bring their homelands into the industrial-commercial age. That interest eventually led me from a B.A. in mathematics to graduate work in those nations’ history. Most of the professors with whom I studied the history, politics, and culture of those lands either came from those countries, like George F. Hourani, or were reared there by American parents whose careers took them abroad, like John Whitney Hall. They therefore knew from their own experiences that those countries’ family patterns, the habits of human relations learned in childhood, differed from the family patterns familiar to most of their American students. They also knew that larger social and political relations in those countries reflected people’s

early experiences in the home, as is true everywhere. We, their students, therefore received a healthy dose of instruction on local family forms and their implications for larger relations, as part of our introduction to those countries’ history, politics, and culture.

X PREFACE In teaching at Albion College since 1957, I have worked to bring students to

the same recognition that the social macrocosm reflects the social microcosm, as | have sought to increase their understanding of the changes that have taken place with the rise and spread of the industrial-commercial mode of life around the world. This effort also is embodied in my textbook Eastern Civilizations. As | worked in the late 1980s on A History of Marriage Systems, and added an interest in the history of family structures around the world to my ongoing interest in Asia and Africa, I became ever more sharply aware that the social microcosm of the family is deeply affected by the social macrocosm’s demands on it, as well as by the availability of resources and the impact of disease. This book presents basic forms of interaction between the family microcosm and the societal macrocosm, as both microcosm and macrocosm interact with disease regimens, available resources, and current technologies.

It continues the series of explorations of aspects of family life around the world that I began with A History of Marriage Systems and plan to extend into modes of rearing children, allocating resources available to family members, and caring for ill, frail, or aged members as I move from full-time teaching into

concentrating on research and writing. In writing this book, I have incorporated abbreviated references to items in the bibliography in parentheses, where either statistical data or discussion of a specific suggestion by a specific person appeared to call for such references, but not where a nonstatistical discussion brings together materials drawn from several of the items listed in the appropriate sections of the bibliography. (Sta-

tistical data for recent decades that are not given such references can be assumed to have come from United Nations Demographic Yearbooks or from United States Bureau of the Census reports.) Because the bibliography is divided into sections, the references modify the usual American Psychological Association format by giving the section number, as well as the author’s surname and the date. To avoid unduly lengthening the bibliography, separate articles in collections have not been listed. Instead, the surname of the article’s author has been given, followed by the surname(s) of the editor(s) of the collection, the section number, and the date. Thus, in the only example of its potentially confusing kind in the entire bibliography, “(Owen, XVII 1987)” refers

to an article by Norman G. Owen in the 1987 Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, whereas “(Owen, in Owen, XVII 1987a)” refers to an article by Owen in the 1987 collection Death and Disease in Southeast Asia, which he edited. For convenience, I have shortened the phrase “life expectancy at birth” to “birth expectancy” throughout the book. The phrase “life expectancy” is used where the expectancy is for remaining years after registration in a system like those of traditional China and Japan (which only recorded a child at its first birthday), or for remaining years after an indicated age such as 5, 15, 20, 40,

or 60. The phrases “age at marriage” and “marriage age” refer to first marriage, unless otherwise stated. In choosing among types of data or calculations to use to indicate average numbers of births in societies, if a choice was

PREFACE Xi available in the materials being used, I usually have preferred actual numbers of children born per woman (all women) or per mother, or per woman (or per mother) age 45 to 49 or over, or per completed family (with the wife still in her first marriage at age 45) to either of the most often calculated rates, total fertility rate (based on numbers born across the society to all women at each age from 15 to 49) and marital fertility rate (based on numbers born across the society to all married women at each age from 20 to 49). The calculated rates are useful when what is wanted is a sense of how a society’s individual

members compare with individual members of other societies, but actual numbers of births to actual women or mothers or wives give a better sense of what people in each actual society would perceive about themselves. In choosing among types of calculations of average age at first marriage, if a choice

was available in the materials being used, I usually have preferred actual means—or medians (which have the advantage of not being skewed upward by a few late marryers)—to the singulate mean age, which takes into account the percentages still single at each age and, therefore, has the disadvantage of overstating mean actual marriage ages in a rapidly growing population with noticeably more births than deaths, or understating them ina rapidly declining one with noticeably more deaths than births. It is well to take with a hefty pinch of salt the apparent precision of birth expectancies and other life expectancies set forth to one or two decimal places, since the materials used do not always make clear whether or not the calculation process made use of the sophisticated techniques demographers have developed to take account of the effects of migration (which can make a population losing migrants look as if expectancies are shorter than they really are, and one receiving migrants look as if expectancies are longer than they really are). Similar apparent precision in marriage ages or life expectancies or numbers of actual births or calculated fertility or mortality rates, especially in populations that have been sampled rather than actually counted, should be treated with similar recognition of a need to imagine the figure as being within a confidence interval of at least 0.1

years, or 0.1 births, or 0.1%, and probably more, on either side. I am grateful to all those at the University of Michigan, Albion College, and elsewhere with whom I have been privileged to discuss these issues over the years. Ford Foundation and Carnegie Corporation grants brought me again to the University of Michigan campus in 1961-62 and 1966-67 for postdoctoral work on Asia and North Africa. A Fulbright-Hays travel grant took me to Tai-

wan for study in 1964, and to Japan and Thailand to visit friends from the 1950s. A sabbatical leave from Albion College enabled me to go to India and Iran in 1974, and in 1975 I traveled in Tunisia for a month. In 1976 I traveled in Mexico, where I attended the 30th International Congress of Human Sciences in Asia and North Africa. In 1978 I began to become acquainted with cousins in Norway, and visited mainland China and Japan. I returned to both China and Japan in 1987, after three more visits in Norway and several in England, the Netherlands, and Switzerland.

xii PREFACE In 1988-89 I received a fellowship from the Program for Inter-Institutional Collaboration in Area Studies (PICAS) at the University of Michigan, and a full year’s sabbatical leave from Albion College. The fellowship and the leave enabled me to put together the first draft of this book, making use once more of the ample library and personnel resources of the University of Michigan. A grant from the Albion College faculty development program in 1990 enabled me to enlist Kurt Schaefer to prepare a preliminary version of the bibliogra-

phy, for which I thank him here. I am grateful to Albion College and the PICAS program for their support, and to Albion College for supporting my presentation of parts of my argument at the 33rd International Congress of Asian and North African Studies in 1990 at Toronto. That presentation will appear in the published proceedings of the Congress. At the University of Michigan, I received warm cooperation and assistance from faculty and staff in the Population Studies Center (especially its then director, William Mason, its then associate director, John Knodel, and its librarian, Lois Groesbeck); the School of Public Health; the department of history and the department of anthropology; and the centers for African and Afro-

American studies, Chinese studies, Japanese studies, Middle Eastern and North African studies, Russian and East European studies, and South and Southeast Asian studies. The reference and circulation staffs of the Harlan Hatcher Graduate Library were invaluably and invariably patient and helpful. PICAS director William Kincaid and the then PICAS chair Ernest McCarus also were of great assistance. Among University of Michigan faculty, I especially thank Frederick Cooper (Africa), Nicholas B. Dirks (India), Reynolds Farley (African-Americans), Jason Finkle (general considerations), Ronald Freedman (general considerations, mainland China, Taiwan), Bruce Frier (ancient Rome), Raymond

Grew (Europe), Charles Hammerslough (general considerations), Sally Humphreys (ancient Greece), Carol Karlsen (American Indians), Victor Lieberman (Southeast Asia), Sylvia Pedraza-Bailey (Hispanic-Americans), Thomas Trautmann (India), Maris Vinovskis (United States), and Ernest Young (China), as well as John Knodel (Germany, Thailand) and William Mason (general considerations). In addition, | would like to thank Michael Cullinane (Southeast Asia), Nilufer Isvan Hayat (Turkey), and Hitomi Tonomura (Japan) of the University of Michigan staff. Thanks to suggestions from a number of these University of Michigan faculty and staff, I also have received helpful correspondence and materials from

a large number of demographic historians, historical demographers, and scholars in family and population studies around the world. I thank Douglas Anderton (University of Massachusetts, Amherst; Utah Mormons), Lee L.

Bean (University of Utah, Salt Lake City; Utah Mormons), Cem Behar (Bogazici University, Istanbul; Ottoman Turks), John C. Caldwell (Australian National University, Canberra; South Asia), Jasna Capo (Institute of Folklore

Research, Zagreb; Croatia), Philippe Fargues (Institut National d’Etudes

PREFACE xiii Demographiques, Paris; Arabs), Francis Gendreau (Centre Francais sur la Population et le Development, Paris; Africa), Sheila Ryan Johansson (University of California, Berkeley; American Indians), William Lavely (University of Washington, Seattle; China), James Lee (California Institute of Technology,

Pasadena; China), Barbara Diane Miller (Cornell University, Ithaca, New York; India), Martin Ottenheimer (Kansas State University, Manhattan; Africa), Anne R. Pebley (Princeton University, Princeton, New Jersey; Guatemala), Giles Pison (Musee de |’Homme, Paris; Africa), Etienne van de Walle (University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; Africa), and Peter C. Xenos (EastWest Center, Honolulu; Southeast Asia) for the materials they sent me and for

their letters. In addition, | thank Judith Banister (Bureau of the Census, Washington; China), Alice W. Clark (University of California Graduate Demography Group, Berkeley; India), Sidney Goldstein (Brown University, Providence, Rhode Island; China), Eugene Hammel (University of California, Berkeley; Europe), Christine Oppong (International Labour Office, Geneva; Africa), Norman Owen (University of Hong Kong, Hong Kong; Southeast Asia), Robert Rowland (Institut Universitaire Europeen, Florence; Europe), Theresa Sullivan (University of Texas, Austin; Latin America), Peter von

Sivers (University of Utah, Salt Lake City; Southwest Asia), Susan Cott Watkins (Princeton University, Princeton, New Jersey; Europe), and E. Anthony Wrigley (Cambridge University, Cambridge, England) for their helpful letters, and Sumido Yoshida (University of Tokyo Faculty of Science Head

Librarian) for graciously and promptly sending me the requested copy of Kazumasha Kobayashi’s article (listed in Section II of the bibliography). | further thank Ethel and Stephen Dunn (Highgate Social Science Research Station, Berkeley; Russia and Soviet Union) for the materials they have provided me. My colleagues at Albion College during the period of this project, both in the history department (Anna Bates, Geoffrey Cocks, Wesley Dick, John Hall,

and Allen Horstman) and in other departments (in particular, Elizabeth Brumfiel and Betsy Taylor in anthropology, and James Cook, Charles Crupi, and Catherine Lamb in English), have given me useful feedback as I tried out this or that suggestion on them, as have my students, my retired colleague, Julian Rammelkamp, the college provost, Dan Poteet, the college chaplain, Robin Woods, the rector of St. James Episcopal Church, David Pike, and my remarkable mother, Gladys Dyer Quale, born in the Victorian era yet a true world citizen of the jet age. None of them, and none of those listed in the previous three paragraphs, will have seen my lines of argument in full until these pages are in print. Only my editor, Cynthia Harris of Greenwood Press, my production editor, Penny Sippel, and my copyeditor, Barbara Hodgson, will have done that; but their work, which I greatly appreciate, has primarily been focused on manner of presentation rather than substantive content. I bear all

responsibility for what is written here. |

Forty years and more of consciously studying and interacting with people

xiv PREFACE around the world are condensed into this book. Yet even before that conscious study and interaction began, I have both of my parents to thank for sensitizing me to the losses as well as the gains that can accompany the kinds of change

that have brought us to the world in which we live today.

oC XPart iI Introduction

CC Chhaapter I General Considerations In a modern society where scarcely 1 in 50 dies before age 15, it is hard to realize that most 18th-century parents expected to lose at least a third of their children before age 15, or that many of our more distant ancestors probably

lost half their children before that age. Yet these were the realities around which earlier people had to shape their family life, their larger social, economic, and political institutions, and their beliefs about the world. Demoaraphers today focus naturally on how long a newborn infant can be expected to live. We shape our families, our schools, our workplaces, our expectations around a confidence that almost all infants will reach adulthood and remain active for 50 or more years. People in the 18th century and before had to think and act in terms of how many infants would reach 15 or 20, and then how long those survivors might continue living. Deaths of infants, children, and even adolescents were seen as natural because of their frequency, rather than unnatural because of their rarity. With fewer than a third reaching age 60, rather than well over two-thirds as in modern societies, people also

had to expect deaths of young to middle-aged adults. , These age-old realities only began to alter in the 18th and 19th centuries, as the energy revolution of widespread industrial and commercial use of fossil fuels helped to bring other new energy-dependent technologies into being. Better home heating decreased deaths from respiratory diseases (which dis-

proportionately killed children and young people), even though industrial coal smoke joined bacteria, viruses, and wood or charcoal smoke as a new cause of respiratory ailments. Refrigerated food storage, quicker transportation of food to market, and pumping systems to provide clean drinking water and remove sewage decreased actual deaths from gastrointestinal diseases, which also disproportionately killed children and young people. Stoves and

4 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT furnaces, iceboxes and refrigerators, railroad trains and steamships, and power-driven water and sewage pumps probably contributed at least as much to postponing most deaths until after 60 in Europe and its overseas offshoots as did medical advances like smallpox vaccination and the germ theory of disease. Although automobile emissions took the place of horse manure as an urban health issue in the 20th century, deaths from emission-caused degenerative diseases usually came later in life than deaths from epidemic and endemic diseases spread by organisms that fed on animal feces. Medical breakthroughs virtually eliminated former epidemic and endemic killers of infants, children, adolescents, and young to middle-aged adults. Continued technological advances, usually requiring large and steady supplies of electric power (like dialysis for kidney failure), counteracted some degenerative diseases. Yet new forms of environmental pollution that accompanied those advances forced recognition that new technologies’ side effects needed to be closely monitored and fought swiftly if they proved to threaten health. Madeleine L’Engle (III 1979) wonders whether we must accept a return to earlier death patterns to preserve ourselves from modern pollution dangers. We face a double challenge as the 20th century yields to the 21st, both to economize on energy use with more energy-efficient technologies and to develop renewable nonpolluting energy resources to make those energy-efficient technologies viable for coming generations. Otherwise, our children and our children’s children are apt to be less confident than people in modern societies have been in recent decades that almost all infants will live healthily into a satisfying old age. To understand how both family life and larger social, economic, and political structures have had to change, we need to look at earlier people’s expectations about early mortality and overall longevity. If life expectancy at birth (birth expectancy) is under 20, probably not quite half will reach 15, and can then expect about 20 to 25 more years. Many earlier people in crowded agricultural societies and many early hunter-gatherer (forager) peoples probably experienced this. They had to form their family and social patterns around a likelihood of about half the local population being 15 or under, more than a third being 10 or under, and only about 1 in 40 reaching 60 or more. Adults would need to focus heavily on child-tending, and would probably enlist adolescents and older children for that and other tasks.

Most parents could hope to reach 35 or 40 and see their firstborn marry (probably not long after puberty). Few would see a grandchild mature. Some elders would need care, but adolescents or older children usually would be

there to help them. If birth expectancy is about 20 to 34, probably about half will reach 20, and can then expect about 25 to 30 more years. Most people from earliest agricultural times 10,000 or more years ago to the energy revolution of the past 200 years probably experienced this, and possibly a few early foragers if they re-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 5 sembled some African foragers studied in recent years. Their family and social

patterns had to cope with about 3 in 7 being 15 or younger, about a third being 10 or under, and only about 1 in 30 reaching 60 or more. Needs for child-tending would be a bit less than where birth expectancy was shorter, but they would still dominate family and social organization, whereas need to care for the aged would grow somewhat. Most parents might hope to live to 45 or 50, long enough to see more than one grandchild born. Few would live to see a great-grandchild. If birth expectancy is about 35 to 44, probably about 3 in 5 will reach 15 and can then expect about 35 to 40 more years. Some in western Europe experienced this as early as the 16th century A.D., and more of their descendants during the 17th and 18th centuries, whether they stayed in Europe or moved

to temperate climates in the Americas. Most other Europeans reached that stage during the 19th century. Much of the rest of the world passed briefly through it before 1950 on the way to the greater longevities of the late 20th century. Family and social patterns had to adjust to about 2 in 5 being 15 or under, perhaps 2 in 7 being 10 or under rather than 1 in 3, and 1 in 20 reaching 60 or over. Families and societies could and did begin giving each child more attention. As the proportion aged 16 to 59 approached 3 in 5, less childtending was needed from adolescents and older children. More and more parents, living to 50 or 55, saw grandchildren reach adolescence. Rather than 60,

65 or even 70 came to seem like the beginning of old age. If birth expectancy is about 45 to 54, probably about 2 in 3 will reach 10 and can then expect to reach 55 or 60. Most western Europeans and their descendants in temperate areas in North America and the southern hemisphere reached this stage in the 19th century, and most of the rest of the world (except tropical Africa and parts of South Asia) by the late 1960s. With about 3 in 8 being 15 or under, only 1 in 4 being 10 or under, probably at least 1 in 12 reaching 60 or over, but few older people needing care before 70, individual children could receive even more attention from both parents and grandparents. If birth expectancy is about 55 to 64, probably at least 3 in 4 will reach 5, and can then expect to reach about 65. With only about a third 15 or under, fewer than a fourth 10 or under, and at least an eighth 60 or over, 75 would replace 70 as the age of real infirmity. More and more would see a first greatgrandchild. Europeans, their descendants in North America, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa, and Japanese passed through this stage by 1950. Sri Lankans (with South Asia’s highest literacy rate) reached it by the 1960s, most Latin Americans by the 1970s at latest, and most continental Asians and North Africans from Korea and China to Turkey and Morocco (though not most South Asians) by the 1980s. As the 1980s closed, more tropical Africans were still at 35 to 44 rather than 45 to 54, however. Only 16 of 54 African countries reported birth expectancies of 55 or over, compared with 31 of 42 Asian countries. Of 11 Asian countries reporting birth expectancies below 55,

6 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT © were among South Asia’s 7 states. Only 3 in the Americas and Oceania, and

none in Europe, reported birth expectancies lower than 55. If birth expectancy is 65 or over, well over 9 in 10 will reach 20, and can then expect to live past 70 or 80. With only about a fourth 15 or under, fewer than a fifth 10 or under, and at least as many 60 or over as 10 or under, 80 would replace 75 as the age of real infirmity. Adults would need to care for

both the young and the very aged. Japanese and most Europeans reached this stage well before the 1980s, as did descendants of Europeans in the Americas, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa. If energy-dependent technologies that support such longevity can be made universal, energyefficient, and lastingly viable through developing safely renewable energy sources, then birth expectancy over 70 can set the pattern in the future— barring unforeseen complications like acquired immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS)—-much as birth expectancy between about 17 and 34 (with few reaching 60) set the pattern in the past. These are approximations. Experience would vary in different regions with different climates and different locally prevalent diseases, even with similar birth expectancies. Ansley Coale and Paul Demeny (I 1966, 1983) distinguish four major patterns: West, East, North, and South. The preceding suggestions are partly based on West, generously allowing for differences from other patterns and for the continuing effects of sudden spurts of epidemic-driven mortality that punctuated most settled peoples’ experience from early agricultural times to the 20th century. East shows somewhat higher mortality than West for age O (the first year) and again after 20. North, or tubercular, shows noticeably lower first-year mortality than West, and lower mortality after age 40, but relatively. high adolescent and young adult mortality. South shows high mortality for both age 0 and ages 1 to 4, the first 5 years—the double blow that slows advances in birth expectancy in South Asia, tropical Africa, and tropical areas in the Americas. Greater longevity facilitates expanding new technologies. Adults have longer to learn to use and improve them, and need to put less time into providing basic food and care for selves and children. Where birth expectancy is under 20, usually fewer than half are between 16 and the probable age of real infirmity at about 55. The dependency ratio of care-needing young and old to those in the actively capable decades is more than one dependent per active. Where birth expectancy is about 35 to 54, as in much of tropical America, South Asia, and tropical Africa as the 1980s ended, a little more than half the population is apt to be between 16 and 59, and the dependency ratio is slightly under one. Where birth expectancy is over 70, two-thirds of the population may be between 16 and the age of real infirmity at 80. The dependency ratio usually is calculated for those below 16 and above 64, and would be about 2 dependent to 3 active. That is an important figure, for it is the same dependency ratio individual households around the world have sought for security as long as records can suggest. It means that the long-living society can ensure

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 7 all its members’ well-being (if there is the will to do so), rather than each household needing a ratio of 3 actives to 2 dependents and being at risk if its ratio is less favorable. These approximations are useful for considering the family life and the social, economic, and political institutions of different peoples. The suggested fractions in various age groups apply only to a population (a group who marry almost entirely within their own ranks) that is neither growing nor declining. If

deaths consistently outnumber births, those 15 or under will be fewer and those 60 or over may well be more numerous than suggested. If births consistently outnumber deaths, those 15 or under will be more numerous and those 60 or over will almost surely be fewer than suggested. In India in 1971, for example, with a birth expectancy of around 50, just over 2 in 5 were 15 or under and just under 1 in 16 were 60 or over, much like the suggestions for a birth expectancy of about 35 to 44. If a population is consistently losing emigrants or gaining immigrants, more of whom are young adults than are children or older adults, the rate and duration of the losses or gains will affect the fractions of those 15 or under and 60 or over. As young adults leave, the sending

population will have a larger percentage of older adults, and eventually a smaller percentage of children because there are fewer in the reproductive ages to bear them. As young adults arrive, the receiving population will have a

smaller percentage of older adults, and a larger percentage of children because the new arrivals bring already-born children and/or bear children after arriving.

As Coale and Demeny point out (I 1966, 1983), no population has ever been stationary (with births always equal to deaths) for any length of time. A population may reach equilibrium, like the Gainj of New Guinea in the 1970s (Wood, XXI 1980). In equilibrium, when deaths increase, births soon increase; when births increase, deaths soon increase. That is as near to being stationary as human populations seem to come. A population also may appear stable, showing a constant annual increase or decrease rate for a long time. Yet when periods or subgroups are looked at, the apparent constant rate of change usually results from an evening out of fluctuations between years or between subgroups. Some population theorists have begun predicting that information technology will make possible a gradual decline in human numbers that would be desirable for conserving energy and other resources. If longevity can be maintained so that a 3-to-2 ratio of actives to dependents is preserved, that is possible, in modern societies that are ready to supplement family household resources with public education and social welfare services to ensure

reaching basic family and societal goals of preparing children for adulthood and caring for the very young, the ill, and the frail. Yet human experi-

ence thus far with lasting population decrease has not been of that kind, since societal ratios of actives to dependents have not been favorable. The leaders of the People’s Republic of China have made population decrease a

8 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT long-range goal for the 21st century. Yet the Chinese people only reached a favorable three-actives-to-two-dependents ratio between the 1964 census and the 1982 census (Li, XVIII 1988). Their inexperience with the results

of their new longevity and their consequent continuing desire for sons strongly contribute to their resistance to the leaders’ one-child policy for population decline. It is probably not wildly off the mark most of the time to think extremely roughly of pre-energy-revolution populations as having 40% or more under 15 (30% or more under 10), losing 20% to 35% in the first year, losing up to another 15% before 15, and seldom having more than 5% age 60 or over unless population currently was declining. Stationary or nearly stationary pre-energy-revolution populations might have more aged people; but the punctuating epidemics that produced apparent nonchange often killed the aged disproportionately. Epidemics often disproportionately killed the youngest too, but new births could soon replace them. When an epidemic depleted the aged, it also was apt to take a number of potential future aged from the middle-aged.

Pre-energy-revolution people seldom gave much conscious thought to these proportions. They knew that many infants and young children died, that the young far outnumbered the aged, that those aged 20 to 50 in early to middle adulthood usually were somewhat under half, and that people of any age might die at any time. Yet if questioned about how many children they needed to have at least 2 living per mother in their own old age, like Enga women in New Guinea, the arithmetic mean of their responses might well have been as accurate (in view of current local mortalities) as the 5.96 of the Enga women’s

responses (Post and others, XX] 1985). Individuals did not begin figuring out such numbers until John Graunt put together the first life table in England in 1662. Even after that, societal insight remained collective and inarticulate for most people, like the Enga women before being questioned. Yet societal behavior tended to ensure social replacement (the survival of a son for each man and a daughter for each woman) and not much more, unless unused resources seemed available. On some Pacific

islands, only older sons and daughters were expected to marry, whereas younger sons and daughters were expected to be satisfied to adopt their older siblings’ surplus offspring. Few nonislanders anywhere preached as explicitly as early Christian priests that parents had a moral duty to provide a place in life for each child born, rather than behave like aristocratic parents in imperial Rome who exposed unwanted offspring in the marketplace for sale as slaves. Their western European hearers’ descendants eventually became the first siza-

ble society to limit heirs through expecting women to marry as late as the mid-20s. Students of public health issues see human history largely in terms of births,

illnesses, and deaths. Thus they partly overlap with demographers, who mainly focus on births, marriages, migrations, and deaths. Yet all five types of

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 9 events—births, illnesses, marriages, migrations, and deaths—interact to produce the decidedly nonstationary as well as nonstable local populations of actual historical experience.

Burial finds suggest that early human deaths were distributed roughly equally among three sets of hazards: those of infancy and childhood (diminishing sharply as a child matured enough to meet its own needs), those of or-

dinary adult life (changing relatively little with age), and those of aging (climbing steeply in later years). The hazards of infancy include the birth process itself, birth defects, infections, and accidents. In rural Machakos district in Kenya in 1975-78, the birth process and birth defects still caused 13.5% and 5.4%, respectively, of all age O deaths, or more than 6% of all deaths (Omondi-Odhiambo, XXIX 1987), with 1 in 3 of all deaths at age 0. The hazards of early childhood largely consist of infections (including parasites entering the body) and accidents. Another 1 in 6 deaths in the Machakos district in 1975-78 were of children aged 1 to 4. Weaning can be especially risky, for improperly stored or prepared foods may introduce infection into a child’s body. Where starchy staple foods contain little vegetable protein, a child may develop a nutritional disease like kwashiorkor, “the disease of the child whose younger sibling comes too soon,” as tropical Africans in protein-short, tuber-eating areas call it, knowing that it strikes those whose mothers wean them early to feed a newer infant. A number of pre-1800 western Europeans may well have come to enjoy longer lives than many of their contemporaries around the world because wheat, rye, and oats have more proteins and minerals than cassava and yams, or even rice and maize. At the very least, nutritional diseases lessen ability to fight infection. At worst (1 in 30 of those early-childhood deaths in Machakos in 1975-78, for example), they themselves kill. The hazards of ordinary adult life also largely consist of infections and accidents, if violent deaths (individual attack in homicide, self-destruction in sui-

cide, or larger violence in raiding and warfare) are treated as accidents. Successful passage through some infectious diseases in childhood has always built up immunity to them, with a few deadly exceptions like amebic dysentery, but new infective agents have always been potentially lethal. Epidemiolo-

gists recognize that the first encounter with a new infectious pathogen or disease-causing agent usually is the deadliest, as it was for smallpox in 8thcentury A.D. Japan and the 16th-century Americas, or for measles in the Pacific islands in the 19th century. In theory, a new pathogen can infect everyone in a household or community, leaving no one well enough to feed and care for the sickest. In reality, some exceptionally robust people usually fight off the effects enough to feed and care for themselves and perhaps a few others. Still, a few especially fast-acting pathogens have caused 100% death tolls in households or small communities. One wonders how often mutant pathogens have developed that have either acted extremely rapidly or, like AIDS, destroyed human immune defenses,

10 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT only to die out with an isolated host group. Among Fore people in New Guinea, women and children all too often suffered from kuru, a fatal minddestroying disease of the nervous system. Kuru only disappeared when Fore ceased expecting women and children (but not adult men, ritually entitled to eat the pigs they raised) to eat ritually of corpses’ flesh. Some of those corpses unfortunately contained the slow-acting virus that the winner of the 1976 Nobel prize for medicine finally identified as the cause (Zigas, I] 1990). Until then, some still believed that kuru was a psychological disease of women and children, much as ulcers only recently began ceasing to be seen as stress-

related rather than as bacterially caused. Just one initial case could have brought the kuru virus into lasting circulation among Fore. One wonders how many others classed as psychologically ill are victims of a still unidentified slow-acting pathogen, and how it might have entered them. The hallucinatory effects of ergotism, common in rye-growing areas from Germany to Massachusetts before grain storage was improved, surely contributed greatly to beliefs in witchcraft and resultant persecutions in those locales (Matossian, II 1989). After the first widespread epidemic visitation, an infectious disease can become endemic, lastingly present and at times reaching widespreadness, but currently affecting only a few in most years. It may become a childhood disease,

present in surviving hosts from whom it can later transmit itself to the unexposed young. Like malaria, it also may continue to strike previously infested adults. In any case, poor nutritional status worsens its effects. Actual star-

vation seldom threatens life in famine years. The real threat is weakness, vulnerability to pathogens that a healthy, well-fed child or adult could throw off.

In recent times, disease-causing agents other than infectious pathogens have become significant exogenous (external, not indigenous to the body) causes of death. Carcinogens (substances that tend to provoke cell reactions leading to cancer formation) have multiplied as new technologies produce them in unprecedented quantities, while public and private agencies scramble to lessen their toxicity and quantity. Other pollutants produced by modern industrial processes cause other kinds of ills. Choices made by individuals— exercise, diet, use of tobacco or alcohol or other drugs—are somewhere between exogenous, or external, factors and endogenous (internal, within the body’s own makeup) causes of mortality. Carcinogens, other pollutants, and choices can all lead to degenerative diseases, noninfectious ailments that.damage or even destroy parts of the body. Degenerative diseases were probably far

less important as causes of death in earlier centuries than epidemic and endemic pathogens; but as public health programs and antibiotics lessen deaths from infectious diseases, degenerative diseases have taken their place alonaside accidents (broadly defined) as primary hazards for adults. Sometimes antiepidemic measures have been carried out on a truly grand scale. The Habsburg empire effectively stopped bubonic plague from reenter-

ing central Europe in A.D. 1728 by establishing a cordon sanitaire (a

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 11 quarantine-enforcing barrier system) between itself and the neighboring Ottoman empire, which in turn established one along its own eastern border more than a century later. Only a well-organized central government could establish and maintain such programs of protection. Finally, a full 5,000 years after cities facilitated epidemics by bringing together thousands of people (not just hundreds as in villages), the organizational skills required for large-scale political systems were turned effectively against epidemics. Enlisting governments

to fight degenerative diseases has been as important a development in the 20th century as enlisting governments to fight infectious diseases was in the 18th century. Yet sometimes a government effort is not thought through sufficiently. Collecting Tanzanian cultivators from separate farmsteads into villages in the 1960s and 1970s gave them access to health clinics and to pure water from pumped wells; but without constant sight or scent or sound of people to keep away wild animals that carry sleeping sickness, the new villagers found more sleeping sickness in their cattle. Many new villagers thought that this harmed their overall well-being at least as much as the personal health problems they had faced in isolated farmsteads.

The hazards of aging include degenerative diseases caused by both endogenous and exogenous factors. Late-appearing genetic defects like Huntington’s chorea make themselves tragically known later in life. Accumulated effects of carcinogens, other industrial pollutants, or life-style choices eventually may bring degenerative disease, making exogenously caused degenerative diseases an increasing rather than a constant hazard as the years pass. Much can be done to stave off familiar frailties of age, like taking calcium supplements to lessen the likelihood of broken bones; but as one pessimistic researcher said of the plaques and tangles of the brain in Alzheimer’s disease,

if we live long enough, it is apt to come to almost all of us. Aging leads to death, which is necessary to make room for the newly born. It is natural for aging bodies to find it increasingly hard to throw off infections, accidents, and degenerative diseases, just as it is natural for rapidly growing young bodies to throw off most infections and all but the worst accidents with increasing ease. These three periods of hazard—youth, adulthood, and aging—were more

compressed for our ancestors than for most people in modern societies. A sense of aging presumably came by the 40s to the Neanderthals (the earliest Homo sapiens), few, if any, of whom apparently lived much past 50. That sense came in the 50s or at latest the 60s to those in early agricultural societies. The 20th century sees it postponed increasingly into the 70s and 80s. The hazards are the same, but actual causes of death have shifted increasingly from infections and accidents toward degenerative diseases, including birth defects or other congenital deficiencies or illnesses. Yet climate still counts.

The tropics’ moistness and warmth continue to make them the most pathogen-ridden areas, with the highest infant and child mortality rates and the lowest longevities. Polar-influenced coolness may have killed pathogens brought to Scotland in the 6th century A.D. by continuing trade with the Medi-

12 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT terranean world, helping Scots to avoid absorption by Anglo-Saxons. Coolness increases longevity for today’s Scandinavians and other northern peoples who have efficient heating systems, lessening deaths from diseases like tuberculosis, which strike hardest at those who are doubly weakened by nutritional deficiency and insufficient warmth. No sizable island of population remains outside a new infective agent's circle of potential influence, in the way that the Americas remained untouched until the 16th century by pathogens that devastated Eurasia and Africa. Often, though not always, those pathogens came from tropical Asia or tropical Africa. No matter where a pathogen arose, the trade routes that increasingly tied every part of Europe, Asia, and Africa together before Spaniards and Portuguese reached the Americas also were routes for pathogen travel, bringing epidemics and often becoming lastingly endemic residents. When the Tokugawa leaders of Japan severely limited foreign contacts shortly after A.D. 1600, they feared troops on European ships; but diseases probably ought to have concerned them more, given Japan’s previous 900 years of smallpox, dysentery, and measles epidemics and its continuing experience with them in the next 250 years. Shipborne diseases facilitated European conquest in the Americas by devastating one indigenous group after another. In Tokugawa Japan, a shipborne epidemic always started at the only port for foreign trade, fanning out along Japan’s internal trade routes until it reached areas so sparsely inhabited that the pathogen could not easily find a new host after its current host died. Other island dwellers like Hawaiians, Maori, and Samoans, who fell victim to everything from measles to gonorrhea in the 19th century, also have been brought into the double circle of trading connections with the rest of the world and the accompanying virtual certainty of eventually receiving any new pathogen. Epidemics made the most densely peopled places the least healthful until recent times. England’s 19th-century mortality pattern reflects the probable reality of human experience ever since cities appeared, with the highest death rates at almost all ages in the largest and most crowded cities, and the longest life expectancy at birth or any later age in the remotest areas. Only in the 20th century has living in a rural area become disadvantageous from infancy and early childhood through adulthood and aging. Cities’ health services have grown far beyond those in most rural areas. Still, cities remain less healthful than rural areas for those at any age who lack ready access to urban services. In the United States of the 1980s, all low-income African-American citizens were apt to find health services hard to obtain. Yet because low and often uncertain income meant lifelong nutritional deficiencies for many of them (even before birth, if their mothers ate poorly during pregnancy), many degenerative diseases seldom faced by other groups’ members much before 40 often affected them by 25 or even before. It therefore made sense for low-income African-American women to bear their children as early as possible, even be-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 13 fore 20, before their physical health began deteriorating (Geronimus, XXVI 1987). Similar arguments probably apply everywhere that women have been expected to begin childbearing shortly after puberty—contemporary foragers and probably their and our forager ancestors; matrilineal Akan in tropical west Africa, who marked a woman’s puberty by formally accepting into the lineage all her future children in or out of formal marriage; aristocrats in imperial Rome, where epidemics spared no age group or social level; people in north India’s densely populated plain; or the 3.8% of married couples in an 18thcentury Guatemalan village with at least one spouse under 15 (Carmack, in Carmack and others, XXVII 1982). For these and many others, it was better for a woman to begin bearing as soon as possible. Not only was her own health at its probable best, but she and/or the father might also still have older kin to

help care for the children. |

Because poor nutrition has probably delayed puberty for many women and men in earlier as well as more recent populations, a young woman might not be able to bear children much before 20. The average age of menarche (first menstruation) in much of Scandinavia in the early 19th century was 17. The average for low-fecundity Gainj in New Guinea was 19. When 18th-century Europeans started noticing how much earlier boys’ voices broke and young men had full beards, they were seeing tangible signs of improved nutrition and

general health (Moller, II 1987). Both men and women matured earlier as quarantines, faster grain transport and better grain storage, cheap easily washed cotton underclothes, and partial substitution of tea and coffee made with boiled water for other beverages (among many other innovations) transformed everyday life. Poor nutritional status does not appear to impede generative processes in either men or women, once they have begun. At least 10% to 15% of normal body weight for height must be lost to bring amenorrhea (lack of menstruation) in women, though lesser weight loss can increase the percentage of anovulatory (infertile) cycles. At least 20% of normal body weight for height must be lost to decrease quality of sperm in men. Psychological stress, which lowers motility for a man’s sperm or can make a woman’s cervical mucus antagonistic to sperm, may matter more than poor nutrition in lowering fecundity (ability to have offspring). However, once a sperm reaches an ovum, the

potential mother’s nutritional status and general health affect the potential embryo. There is no guarantee that any specific fertilized ovum will ever be born asa living infant, even in the healthiest of populations, let alone in a nutritionally deficient or otherwise less healthy one. Not more than 24% of fertilized ova result in live births, in the absence of voluntary abortion (Boklage, II 1990). The others abort themselves (in miscarriage, involuntary abortion, or sponta-

neous abortion) or are stillborn. More than 60% of all miscarriages (at least one in three fertilizations) involve gross defects in either the chromosomes or

14 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT the cell differentiation process. About 1 in 14 infants have defects that range from mild to serious. The more stress a woman is under, the more she is apt to miscarry, particularly if the fetus shows any defect. A group of female prison inmates had unusually frequent miscarriages and stillbirths, but no liveborn infants with any type of congenital defect. Presumably, stress made the reproductive systems of these women even less tolerant of any anomaly than those of most women (Bernds and Barash, in Chagnon and Irons, II 1979). Many tests of the potential infant’s viability and the potential mother’s capability must be passed if a fertilization is to lead to live birth. First, the fertilized ovum must proceed smoothly into mitosis, the division of the cell nucleus into chromosomically identical halves, each of which continues dividing in the same way. That does not always happen. An early breakdown of mitosis may bring miscarriage of the incipient embryo as defective. The woman may be so severely affected by malnutrition, infection, or degenerative disease that her reproductive system rejects the incipient embryo as too much strain on her bodily resources. The incipient embryo then miscarries because its defective environment rules out proper development. These types of miscarriages may come so soon that the woman does not even realize a fertilization had taken place, for her next menstruation comes at or only slightly after the expected time; or they may come somewhat later. Mitosis may proceed smoothly until the incipient embryo has developed enouch to implant on the uterine wall, about two weeks after fertilization and also about when the next menstruation probably would be expected. The uterus may then reject implantation because it is affected by malnutrition or by results of infectious or degenerative disease, resulting in miscarriage. Even if implantation takes place, enabling the embryo to begin receiving nourishment from the woman’s bloodstream, mitosis may go awry when differentiation into incipient portions of the future fetus begins, and the implanted embryo may detach and be expelled. At least one in ten fertilized ova do not reach implantation. More than one in three implantations may be rejected so soon that the next menstruation is only slightly delayed. Well over half of implantations do not reach full term. By the end of the second month, fewer than half the original fertilizations may re-

main; by the end of the third month, no more than two in five; by the end of the sixth month, under one in three. About one in four identified pregnancies miscarry. As the sixth month ends, the lungs and other internal organs may have developed enough for modern medical technology to make life outside the uterus possible. Without such technology, survival outside the uterus is unlikely before some time in the eighth month. Even with that technology, the cerebral cortex may not have developed enough before the end of the seventh month to be able to continue developing normally outside the uterus. Up to 60% of miscarried embryos in the first 7 weeks and almost 25% of miscarried fetuses in the 8th to 12th week have chromosomal abnormalities, and proba-

bly would not have developed into normally functioning human beings.

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 15 Down’s syndrome, the form of mental retardation linked with the presence of an extra chromosome, is probably the most familiar example of a chromosomal abnormality. It occurs most often if the woman is over 35 or if she has been under extreme deprivation, which suggests that at least sometimes it involves a failure in the woman’s generative processes. However, anencephaly, the lack of a cerebral cortex—a moderately uncommon and quickly fatal de-

fect in a newborn, which occurs noticeably more often in infants born to women who are underfed early in life than to more fortunate women—would not be a chromosomal abnormality. Neither would microcephaly, having an abnormally small brain case. Congenital defects like these result from defects in cell differentiation, and probably occur in the second to third month of gestation when the cerebral cortex begins to develop. Extreme heat or other severe and lasting trauma for the woman’s reproductive system during those months also can affect the formation of the cerebral cortex or its case, as the number of microcephalic infants born to women who were in early pregnancy

in Hiroshima or Nagasaki when the atomic bombs were dropped in 1945 makes sadly evident (Gray, in Bulatao and Lee, III 1983). As the implanted embryo’s cells begin forming into future body parts, the woman’s body may display an immunity reaction and reject it, if there is some fundamental incompatibility between them. The birth process may even involve developing an immunity reaction to the fetus as it differentiates increasingly from the woman’s body. Women who are carrying male fetuses have more immunoglobins in the blood than do women who are carrying female fetuses, which may contribute to male infants’ greater vulnerability. One familiar example of an immunity reaction between a woman and a fetus is the Rh factor, the presence (positive Rh) or absence (negative Rh) of a certain protein on the surface of red blood cells. This becomes significant as future body parts begin forming and the embryo becomes a fetus, around the seventh week. A woman who is among the one in seven or eight persons who are Rh negative, but whose reproductive system must cope with Rh positive blood resulting from her partner’s genetic contribution, can carry through a first pregnancy with him. Yet, in the process, her body develops antibodies that will reject any future embryo that displays positive Rh, as it will if she continues with him. In recent years, physicians have learned how to replace enough of the fetus’s blood with Rh negative blood to avert rejection. These techniques are not yet

available in many of the less industrialized countries. Their Rh negative women, like all Rh negative women until recently, could only bear more children by changing to partners with negative Rh (McKee, in McKee, II] 1984). Maleness itself may be a slight disadvantage, since males have only one set of immunological instructions in their single X chromosome, but females have two sets in their two X chromosomes. That may explain the cross-cultural belief that baby boys are more vulnerable than baby girls and need more attention. It also may explain why considerably more miscarriages are male than female, at rates that increase with the earliness of the expulsion. Male fertiliza-

16 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT tions may even be as much as 80% more numerous than female, although live births usually are less than 10% more numerous. Higher mortality for young males in most societies tends to lead to approximately equal numbers of both sexes by about age 15, unless there is some severe disadvantage for one sex (McKee, in McKee, III 1984).

Differing effects on male or female fetuses of high stresses felt by the woman may help to account for comparatively low ratios of male to female infants born to women in stressful situations. The higher stress may be from the effects of multiple pathogens on women’s health, as in tropical Africa, which has the highest miscarriage rates and the lowest sex ratios at birth. The high stress also may come from the uncertainties of low and unsteady income, as shown in studies of socioeconomic levels in 20th-century England and else-

where. Because infant mortality increases as one goes down the socioeconomic scale in a specific population, awareness of that could further increase stress for pregnant women at lower socioeconomic levels. The ratio of males to females at birth is unusually high for the extremely wealthy and for members of royal families, who presumably have no worries about maintaining their respective positions in the social system (James, II 1987, I and II). Maleto-female birth ratio also is high for groups like orthodox Jews (Guttentag, II 1983) who make a strong conscious effort to provide pregnant women with fully adequate food, as much physical comfort as feasible, and warm psychological support. If all these continue to be given after the birth takes place, members of that group at a given socioeconomic level may show far less infant

mortality than other groups at the same socioeconomic level. That, too, would lessen the stresses felt by pregnant women in a supportive population. In turn, this could help make possible sex ratios at birth of 110 to 120 males per 100 females, rather than the 105 to 107 males per 100 females of most

populations or the 100 to 103 males per 100 females of the more highly stressed. When medieval European Christians accused Jews of witchcraft because the death rate for Christian infants was much higher than that for Jewish infants, they were really, though unknowingly, accusing themselves of insufficient care for pregnant women, newborns, and new mothers. The longer a fetus remains implanted, the fewer its chances of miscarriage, either from a defect in its own chromosomal makeup or cell differentiation process, or from problems in the woman’s reproductive system. Some reproductive system defects, like those resulting from genital tuberculosis or vener-

eal disease, may not lead to expulsion until several months after gestation begins. Because strains on a badly damaged reproductive system can kill a woman if the pregnancy continues and she has to give birth to a full-grown infant, such an expulsion is clearly meant to preserve the woman’s life, regard-

less of the fetus’s condition. Yet even coming to full term and entering the birth process may not mean live birth. The fetus may have survived in the uterus, yet be too frail to survive expulsion through the birth canal. If it has de-

veloped in an inconvenient position for birth, it may not survive expulsion,

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 17 even if it is sturdy. Modern, high-technology societies still have about a 1% chance of stillbirth, a risk that increases if the mother was malnourished as a child as well as if she currently is not well fed. Stillbirths numbered about 3% of all births in 18th-century Sweden and Germany or 20th-century India, and remained well over 3% in much of Africa into the 1980s. Up to 20% of stillbirths in earlier times also involved the mother’s death, though her death and the infant’s survival was a more usual outcome. Until the 20th century, about 1 in

50 to 100 birth experiences resulted in the mother’s death. Today that risk ranges from well under 1 in 1,000 in Europe or North America up to 1 in 50 in

parts of Africa and South Asia. These sobering realities make understandable the concern of both women and men in all times and places to ensure the birth of offspring to carry on as they themselves age and die. Most of us regard illnesses as linked with death. Fewer of us recognize that illnesses also are linked with birth, through the reproductive system’s functioning. The probability that not more than 24% of initial fertilizations reach live birth adds a new perspective to the realization that only in recent generations have more than one of every two to three infants survived to reproduce. Only about 35% of female infants in pre-1789 France gave birth themselves, for 18th-century France combined relatively late marriage for women with fairly high mortality at all ages (Willigan and Lynch, III 1982). A population with comparable mortality rates and earlier

marriage for women would probably see more female infants reach birthgiving. Yet in almost every long-established population, societal practices like late marriage have limited overall numbers of births to not much more than social replacement. Unhappily, some of those practices also have almost guaranteed some of the illnesses in women that lead to malfunctioning in a woman’s reproductive system. The widespread practice of enabling men and older boys to eat first, whereas women, older girls, and younger children eat what they

have left, is one of those. Because miscarriage increases with illness and stress, pathogens and poverty, and because infant mortality also increases with pathogens and poverty, one wonders whether the proportion of fertilizations completing the first year of life outside the uterus differs much from the past’s far more pathogen- and poverty-ridden societies, in a contemporary society using contraception and not penalizing voluntary abortion. If not more than 24% of all fertilizations ina modern society would reach live birth in the absence of voluntary abortion, if almost all those born will live, and if there are about 30% as many voluntary abortions as there are live births (as in Sweden in 1986), then perhaps 18% to 19% of fertilizations will result in an infant who reaches the first birthday. Contraceptive use is much greater in Sweden than in the United States or eastern Europe, with their higher rates of voluntary abortion. If not more than 24% of all fertilizations reached live birth in an earlier society, but fully 20% to 25% died within a year, then, too, perhaps 18% to 19% of fertilizations would result

in an infant who reached the first birthday.

18 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Few infants who died in earlier centuries would have been grossly defective, or they would not have reached live birth, any more than today. Not all those

voluntarily aborted at an early stage in a contemporary society would be grossly defective either, though early discovery of a gross chromosomal or cell differentiation defect is a major reason for seeking voluntary abortion. Still, gestation within a woman who wanted but could not secure voluntary abortion would almost surely mean gestation under great stress. That could well bring miscarriage, or result in birth into a hostile family situation that could lead to

early death. Consider a woman in Guatemala who tried unsuccessfully to abort a pregnancy, gave birth to a healthy-looking infant, and firmly said that it

was sickly and would soon die, which it did (Scrimshaw, in Eberstadt, III 1981). In the past, high infant mortality eliminated about as many who could have become healthy adults in the absence of pathogens and poverty as volun-

tary abortions in a society with a fairly high level of contraceptive use may eliminate today from a potentially highly stressful prenatal or postnatal environment. Perhaps the overall balance of stresses in human life is simply taking a different form in modern societies, with voluntary abortion in the first part of

pregnancy in effect replacing high infant mortality in maintaining a rather steady percentage of fertilizations leading to a living 1-year-old child. More ef.fective contraceptive use might actually raise that percentage, by decreasing

voluntary abortions. |

Deaths, illnesses, and births all interact with marriage patterns and rates. Where those who reach 15 expect only about 20 more years, first marriages tend to come in the early to middle teens for women, as in some tropical and subtropical areas even today. Whether first marriages for men come that early or later on in a low-longevity society will depend on whether monogamy or polygyny is the prevailing mode. Monogamy (one wife per husband and one husband per wife) requires men to marry early also, though usually not quite as early as women, because women’s life expectancy in such populations tends to be slightly less than men’s. Polygyny (more than one wife per husband) requires men to marry later, to make the number of man-years available for marriage less than the number of woman-years available. West African polygyny today is still supported by an average difference of a decade in women’s and men’s ages at first marriage, even though life expectancies are well above earlier levels and women now live longer than men. In societies with low life expectancies, many nonfatal illnesses also may end

a woman’s reproductive career. Therefore, pressure is strong to ensure enough births to prevent population decrease. This does not mean striving to have every woman give birth every year, although in theory that would be possible. The society would have far too many infants to care for, particularly since they might receive little lactation from their mothers. Resulting mortality rates, and the task of emotionally absorbing all those deaths, would be exorbitant. Ensuring against population decline in high-mortality societies usually means attempting to have every woman give birth about every 30 months, lac-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 19 tating each new child for at least 12 months. Where the new foods usually given after six months or so are short of protein, as in kwashiorkor-prone tropical regions, longer lactation usually is preferred. Births there may come about 42 months apart. Because a woman’s fertility cycles seldom take much more than 24 months to recommence after a birth, even if she is still lactating, that kind of spacing is apt to involve practicing abstinence from intercourse. Often, though not always, abstinence is enforced by a woman’s temporary separation from her partner. Such abstinence could instigate (and would surely reinforce) pressure for polygyny. West Africa strikingly illustrates how the presence of large numbers of pathogens, leading to high mortality at all ages, can combine with local nutritional realities to influence marriage and birthgiving patterns

through patterns of illnesses and deaths. When life expectancy at 15 or 20 lengthens to 25 or more years, as in much

of medieval western Europe, first marriages are apt to come later for both women and men. This is particularly likely if newly married pairs are expected to set up separate neolocal households, rather than live in either a husband’s or a wife’s family household. These neolocal households also are conjugal or

nuclear, including the spouses and their unmarried children, rather than extended by the presence of other kin most of the time. Conjugal households may cooperate closely with kin-linked households in what has come to be called an associative or a modified extended family form; but they are neither multiple (currently including more than one couple) nor joint (including surviving parents as well as their surviving offspring and any surviving spouses and/or children of offspring), except in temporary emergency situations. Such a pattern may have taken root at least as early as the 13th century in parts of northwest Europe. There rain-fed, field crop extensive agriculture meant that a household needed fewer workers than in irrigation-watered, gardenlike intensive agricultural areas like China’s rice paddies. Thus neither three-generational households nor polygyny seemed essential. In northwest Europe as elsewhere before modern times, only the wealthiest could afford to help a son set up a new household before age 20. Others there would either keep a son at home to work (setting aside part of his contribution for his marriage) or send him out to work and earn elsewhere, in the pattern of adolescent and young adult /ife-cycle servant life that distinguished northwest European society by at least the 16th century. Neolocal marital residence usually combines with monogamy, to avoid hav-

ing to establish fully separate households for a husband and more than one wife. In neolocal monogamous systems, the natural demographic pressure is for women to enter first marriage at an age reflecting the usually small difference in life expectancy between themselves and men. Because the wife as well as the husband ordinarily makes a contribution to the new household, delaying women’s first marriages enables them too to work and set aside for marriage. They might do so either at home or through the same life-cycle servant

pattern as their brothers, as in early modern northwest Europe.

20 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT With about 45 rather than 35 as an average death age for those reaching 20, and birth spacings of about 30 months, a 16th-century northwest European woman who married at 25 would still ordinarily live long enough to bear six children. That was the number then required by mortality rates, if she and her husband were to be reasonably sure of two offspring surviving to marry and have children. Both she and her husband would usually have built potential supportive networks of former employers and fellow workers before their marriage, to supplement their own kin networks. Furthermore, relatively high protein levels in northwest Europe’s staple grains meant that her reproductive system was less apt to have begun deteriorating by age 25 or so than in many other populations, especially since Europeans ate more animal protein than did people in many other regions at that time. Thus 25 to 29 could indeed be her best time to begin childbearing, rather than 15 to 19. Though epidemics swept through northwest Europe from time to time, they usually took the youngest and the oldest. The age groups from about 25 to 45 ordinarily lost the fewest in epidemics, which also helped to make those years best for birth and early child-rearing. Besides, earlier marriage would probably mean more pregnancies. Even in modern, well-cared-for populations, a fifth pregnancy begins to increase risks for both woman and fetus, and a seventh or later pregnancy shows sharply higher risks for both woman and fetus. Thus a practical maximum average of six would make good biological sense, though a practical maximum average of four would make even better biological sense, if mor-

tality rates permitted it. As in west Africa, so also in northwest Europe, conditions of agriculture, crops raised, dietary protein, levels and types of pathogens, and resulting patterns of illness and mortality deeply affected the rise and persistence of specific patterns of family and household organization, marriage, and birthaiving. Many societies developed childbearing patterns that led to a probable maximum average of six births. For a west African woman beginning to bear at 15 or 16 with a spacing of 42 months, an average death age of 35 barely allowed time for the six births that seemed to be an average in the 1950s, before life expectancies there began to rise significantly. India, with a diet richer in both vegetable protein and dairy products, displayed different household and family patterns even though it also had high mortality and low longevity. Because

India’s irrigated agriculture made it advisable to have large family work groups that included as many men as possible (rather than expecting each of several polygynous wives to hoe her own garden after their husband cleared the bush to make the needed garden plot, as in most of Africa), monogamy in three-generation households keeping father and sons together in a joint extended family became the goal. Marriage came in the early to middle teens for both sexes, with a birth spacing of about 30 months. Thus the maintenance of a probable maximum average of six births in India came to depend heavily on nonremarriage of widows and the encouragement of abstinence once the first grandchild was born, to cut short a woman’s childbearing. In China, in yet an-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 21 other high-mortality, irrigated-agriculture pattern in which longevity was just slightly greater than in India, three-generation joint extended families keeping

father and sons together used monogamous marriage in the middle to late teens and nonremarriage of widows to maintain a probable maximum average of six births, with a birth spacing of about 30 months. In drier North Africa and Southwest Asia, where women usually contributed less than men to aagricultural field work, interruption of childbearing through divorce appears to have been a primary means of maintaining a probable maximum average of six

births in a mildly polygynous system of three-generation father-and-sons households in which most women first married in the teens. In all these areas,

large polygynous or three-generation households helped to maintain the three-actives-to-two-dependents ratio wanted to provide for basic needs and to ensure care for children, the ill, and the frail, as well as to give children opportunity for interaction with adults of both sexes, to provide enough variety of personalities for both adults and children to find compatible companions, and

to assure enough workers so that rudimentary specialization could enable members with different talents to focus on congenial tasks. When life expectancies lengthen as advances in knowledge and technology postpone more and more deaths to age 60 or over, society’s growing complexity makes it ever more important for everyone to have time and opportunity early in life to develop supportive personal networks beyond the circle of kin as well as within it. Postponing marriage and childbearing beyond age 25 or even 30 becomes reasonable for more and more women and men. Still, age 33 or 34 is a natural limit to when most women can expect to find childbearing easily possible in terms of both fecundability (ability to conceive with a reasonable frequency of intercourse) and the likelihood of gestating and giving birth without complications from incipient deterioration of the reproductive svystem. Marriage and childbearing may be put off until well past 25, and still give time to bear the two children who now almost suffice for social replacement. Historically, most social, economic, and political systems have been organized around expectations that grandparents will become less active as grandchildren mature, unless life expectancies are so short that few grandparents live to see grandchildren. Thus 30 may come to be an average age at first birth in at least some modern populations, much as 31 was a common average age for all births in many early modern European populations, in which childbearing

started on the average at 25 to 26 and ended on the average at 38 to 40. Thirty, however, would seem to be a maximum practical average age for first birthgiving. In Asian societies like Japan, south Korea, and both mainland China and Taiwan, where limited childbearing is already the norm but dual-career marriages are not, women of 21 to 26 tend to marry men only slightly older than themselves and to end childbearing before age 28 or 29. They can then fulfill child-rearing responsibilities by the late 40s, in time to look after their own and their husbands’ aging parents. In societies where wives as well as husbands

22 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT work outside the home full time, parents turn to others (including institutional caretakers) to help with young children and aging grandparents. A mid-20s childbearing pattern currently appears less apt to develop in such societies than an early 30s one. In the 1988 election campaign in the United States, calls for family care leave, to enable either working women or working men to take time off to care for child, spouse, or parent, showed that the dual-career pattern needs significant social and economic adjustments to meet the universal family and societal goal of ensuring care for very young and very old family members. That would be true regardless of whether age at first birth averaged 25 or 30. In view of life expectancies, a mid-20s birthgiving pattern in a dualcareer society could mesh with an expectation that pension-receiving early retirers in their 60s, after both initial career and child-rearing, would combine new vocational and avocational activities with caring for their own aging par-

ents in the late 80s and early 90s. Which of these possibilities might become more common in the United States and elsewhere will probably not become apparent until the 21st century. Mid-20s birthgiving and early 60s parent-caring would leave few adults needing to care simultaneously for growing offspring and aging parents, as adults of 30 to 50 often did in earlier times (and still do where birth expectancy has not yet passed 70). It also would let parents under 35 turn to grandparents under 60 for supplemental assistance before those grandparents were deeply involved in aiding their own aging parents. Such a four-generation family pattern, made possible by greater longevity, could work better in geographically mobile modern societies than the age-old three-generation pattern in which the middle caretaking generation lives with (or at least near) the older generation as well as with the younger one. It would place a family responsibility to care for elders at the outset of what Peter Laslett calls the Third Age (in Loriaux and others, III 1990)—-an opportunity for more freedom of choice (using one’s private and/or public pension) than in the years of earning and child-rearing, coming between middle adulthood and whatever final years of frailty a person may have. To make this possible, societies would need to organize around an expectation that for many, if not all, people, the initial career through which one earned one’s pension would probably be replaced by new

activities some time between 60 and 65. The timing of marriages and births remains linked to patterns of illness and

the timing of deaths, even though the links’ tightness has decreased. Still, none of these sets of events ordinarily takes place within a closed population, entered only through birth and left only through death. The people of Easter Island in the central Pacific, after the deforestation that halted their boatbuilding several centuries ago, evidently were a closed population until European explorers reached them in the 19th century. For most people today, and probably for most people since the earliest Homo sapiens of 100,000 years ago, the effective population within which they live is one in which 80% to 90% of marriage pairings are made within the population and 10% to 20% are

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 23 made outside its membership. That usually is enough to keep inbreeding within the population from producing problems like the spread of retinitis pigmentosa (a blindness-producing genetic defect) in isolated Tristan da Cunha island in the south Atlantic between 1827 and 1961. Yet special circumstances may even modify this expectation. Albinism is spreading among the Kuna of the San Blas islands in the Caribbean near Panama because they believe that an albino is fathered by the moon’s son, not by the woman’s husband. To save her marriage, the mother of an albino seeks to bear her husband several more children he will recognize as his, increasing the proportion of albino genes in the next generation (Durham, II 1990). Marriage is a time at which migration, movement from one place to another, is apt to occur. This is not always true. In parts of west Africa, particularly where a combination of polygyny and matrilineality makes separate residence of spouses appear reasonable and workable to both women and men, husband and wife may continue to reside with their own kin and merely visit each other for periods of varying length. New mothers thereby remain with their own kin, and abstinence to facilitate long lactation can be relatively easily maintained. Still, in most societies, one partner usually moves away from his or her own family and into or at least near the other partner’s family. Only in mobile modern societies, where career choices often take young people to a new community, do both spouses frequently live more than a short distance from close kin. Marriage is not the only spur to migration. Nonetheless, in societies like India today, where most marriages still involve the wife’s moving to the husband’s family home, marriage can account for up to half of the moves made into and out of an area in a year. Another powerful spur is overcrowding, if the number surviving to young adulthood is larger than the number of available local opportunities. Overcrowding accounts for the great 19th-century Euro-

pean migrations to temperate regions in the Americas and elsewhere, as survivorship to adulthood increased before fertility (actual births, in contrast to fecundity, ability to bear) declined. Local overcrowding also accounts for the great 20th-century exodus of villagers to cities, from Nigeria, Egypt, and India to the Philippines and Mexico. Forced migrations like early Southeast Asian rulers’ resettlement of villages, or Arab and European removal of Africans through the slave trade, resulted from the enforcers’ perception of lack of wanted workers in the receiving areas, not from any overcrowding in the sending areas. The 19th-century contract labor of Indians in Fiji or Natal, or of Chinese in Hawaii or on the transcontinental railways of the United States, differed from such forced migrations only in the degree to which offering a low monetary payment and setting a fixed period of work might be said to make the contract voluntary for workers in overcrowded lands, who usually were desperate enough from poverty to go anywhere they could. Migration resulting from marriage usually is permanent. It seldom is followed by return to the initial home (unless after many years), though it often is

24 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT followed by a new move to another area. Migration resulting from need for opportunity also may be permanent, like most 19th-century transatlantic European migration, but it is more apt to be cyclical, with the migrant leaving for a time but expecting to return to the place of origin. If a migrant expects to live elsewhere for many years and return home late in life, it can be hard to drawa line between permanent and cyclical migration. Cyclical migration usually is for a shorter time, however. The cycle may involve young men, young women, or both working elsewhere for several years to earn toward marriage, as in the

early modern northwest European and 18th-century Japanese patterns of many young women and men working as servants before marrying or in the early-20th-century Japanese pattern of young women working in dormitoryproviding factories far from their homes. The cycle may involve a husband’s going elsewhere to work to provide for a wife and children who remain behind, and returning only for visits, as in much of India or Latin America today. It may involve a husband’s taking wife and children to where he can find work—or, less often, a wife’s finding work and bringing husband and children along with her—and then earning just enough to return home, even though the cycle may have to be repeated. The cycle also may be seasonal. Either the whole family or its most able-bodied members may seek seasonally available work elsewhere and then return home, like migrant agricultural workers in the

southern United States who go northward and then return as the seasons change. Whether permanent, cyclical, or seasonal, emigration or departure that results from a need for opportunity has historically been likely to result from more births than deaths, fewer illnesses and more survivals. Some permanent migrations have resulted from catastrophe, more deaths than births, more illnesses and therefore more fears, as in deserted villages in much of Germany in the Thirty Years War of 1618-48 or war-torn south India in the 18th century, where both war and epidemic pestilence have ravaged. Contemporary departures may be from intensely polluted rather than intensely war-ravaged areas, as with Chernobyl in the Soviet Union after the 1986 nuclear accident. Push from overpopulation has been more common than push from immediate fear of serious illnesses and death, even taking into account the wholesale migrations of refugees from war-torn areas, which often become permanent rather than cyclical (or, as in the Persian Gulf in 1990, end a cyclical migration long

before the working migrants planned to return home). Whether emigrants leave an area out of fear or in hope, they form streams of immigration or arrival in the places they go to. Whenever possible, they go where someone is already known to them, or else go in a large enough group to establish a moderately self-contained community.

Receiving areas for immigration tend historically to have been of three somewhat mixed kinds, demographically and technologically. Some places had comparatively few people with simpler technology than newcomers who could support greater numbers in the same area with a more complex technol-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 25 ogy. Many of the earlier inhabitants who had not been previously exposed to the newcomers’ diseases died in large numbers at first contact, leaving more space for newcomers. The Americas, Australia, New Zealand, and some Pacific island groups like Hawaii and Fiji all became magnets for immigration in this way. The first fannings out of Homo sapiens across Africa, Eurasia, the Pacific, and the Americas may have been similar, insofar as they displaced any earlier hominids already present. In other places, opportunities for newcomers were opened by an excess of deaths over births, not by more complex technology. Until the 19th century, most cities had more deaths than births among those born in the city. They therefore turned to rural areas for newcomers just to maintain numbers, let alone to grow. Town air might make one free, as 14th-century Germans said where those who could prove more than a year of town residence could not be claimed as serfs by manor lords; but town diseases, or town violence, also could make one dead. In rural areas, too, a wave of pestilence and death might be followed by immigration from nearby or even distant villages to take up vacated lands. In the third kind of place, new types of opportunities would be opened by technologies different from (and usually more complex than) technologies in sending areas. Cities in modern societies, which grow from their native-borns’ increase as well as from newcomers, offer a more unmixed example of this kind than cities of earlier centuries provided. Through the centuries, migration has been disproportionately a phenomenon of young to middle adulthood, primarily linked to marriage or to seeking new opportunity. It also has probably been more widespread than social and demographic historians once believed. If one in ten persons in a representative 18th-century European village moved away and were replaced by others in the course of a year (Tilly, in Sundin and Soderlund, III 1979), and if land registers in 8th century A.D. Japan show up to one in three taxable fields abandoned in some districts in some years while landholders vied to attract new cultivators (Farris, XIX 1985), it clearly is incorrect to assume immobility even in the villages of past times. Mobility was greater still in cities. It also is incorrect to assume immobility among nomads and foragers, both mobile by definition. In recent times, the tendency of those who migrated early in life to return home later in life has been joined by a tendency of older adults in colder areas to move to warmer ones (and to return to their previous communities for the summer, in a new form of seasonal migration). Early to middle adulthood nevertheless remains the main migration period, freest from illness and far-

thest from both birth and death. Virtually no local population remains stable, stationary, or in equilibrium for more than a few years or a few decades, thanks to migrations and to fluctu-

ations in births, illnesses, marriages, and deaths. That is why Coale and Demeny’s model life tables, valuable though they are, must be used carefully. For example, birth expectancy in Tuscany in Italy was in the early to middle 30s in 1427, but recurring epidemics had recently decreased the population and recovery had scarcely begun (Herlihy and Klapisch-Zuber, V 1985). Asa

26 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT result, one in seven were age 60 or over, appropriate to a population declining 1% a year, but three in eight were 15 or under, appropriate to a population increasing 1% a year. That was far from the approximately 10% aged 60 or over and 25% aged 15 or under of a stationary population at that birth expectancy in the model South life table, with its high mortality for infants and young

adults, appropriate because at least 40% of all deaths listed in Florence’s 1385-1430 city records were infants and young children. Whether the old were few or many in a pre-energy-revolution population, the young were almost always numerous. All larger social, economic, and political institutions, as well as families, had to work with the reality of at least two per-

sons aged 15 or under for every three over 15 (some of whom were depen-

dents, not contributors) and often near one aged 15 or under for every contributing or dependent person over 15. That was very different from having one person aged 15 or under for every three persons over 15 (even with more reaching old age), to which people in modern, long-lived populations are still learning to adjust. It also was very different from the ratio of three actives to two dependents that family households strove to achieve and maintain, so that they could succeed not only in feeding, clothing, and sheltering their members, not only in enabling children to learn to interact with others of both sexes, not only in caring for the very young, the ill, and the frail, but also in providing both satisfying human interactions and opportunity to develop talents within the secure

context of a well-provided household. Every premodern family pattern has striven to make that ratio possible and thereby bring those goals within grasp; but only when a whole society reaches that ratio, as in modern times, can those five goals really become potentially achievable for all. This book has two major descriptive themes. One is how households in the

world’s major societies have historically tried to reach the favorable threeactives-to-two-dependents ratio within the constraints imposed by the perceived resources and health hazards in their natural environment, which usually meant tension between desire for fewer births and desire for more births. The other is how, in recent times, the combination of economic diversification, fertility reduction, public education, governmental social welfare services, and public and

private pension plans—first developed in western Europe and its overseas offshoots—has joined the combination of bilaterality, equal partible inheritance, neolocal conjugal or nuclear households, mid-20s marriage for both sexes, and partner self-selection—also first developed in western Europe and its offshoots (Quale, III 1988)—in being studied and adapted in other societies as they diversify economically. It has another theme as well, foreshadowed like the others in the opening paragraphs, a suggestion that economic diversification, with all its apparent benefits, presents problems of overuse of environmental resources and pollution-caused disease that must be solved by some combination

of further technological change and fertility reduction, even to the point of a gradual population decline that can be nontraumatic in long-lived modern societies, with their favorable ratio of actives to dependents.

TC Chapter 2 Early Human Experience Through the Neolithic Era At some time after Homo sapiens neanderthalis emerged about 100,000 years ago, a mating pattern probably developed that linked forager bands through uniting most women with partners in bands other than the ones in which they lived at the time of pairing (Quale, II] 1988). Such bands were apt to have numbered 15 to 25 men, women, and children. The development of large-game hunting through drives carried out by single bands or by several cooperating bands would have promoted keeping kin-linked men together as a hunting group. Most women would have changed bands at marriage, both to avoid inbreeding and to form alliances useful to their brothers and their hus-

bands. Homo sapiens sapiens (who probably emerged about 40,000 years ago out of the Homo sapiens neanderthalis population and spread over Africa, Europe, Asia, Australia, and the Americas in the next 20,000 years or so) may even have become the predominant form of Homo sapiens through de-

veloping that pattern. Pair-bonding between a specific man and a specific woman would have been highly advantageous for rearing offspring who needed many years of care and

instruction, and also for forming alliances between neighboring groups for large-scale hunting drives. Men (apt to be injured in the hunt) would find it helpful to be pair-bonded to women who would nurse them back to recovery, as well as provide them with plant food in ordinary times. Women would find it helpful to be pair-bonded to men who could help nurture young children, as well as provide much of the meat protein wanted and needed by pregnant or lactating women and growing children. Moreover, groups would find pairbonding valuable for prolonging both partners’ lives through mutual assistance. Longer life increased the span of personal experience available to instruct the young.

28 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT The development of large-game hunting through drives may have been a re-

sponse to a cooling global climate, as the last glaciers began covering the northern to central parts of the northern continents about 75,000 years ago. The new technique also may help to account for a change from extremely slow population growth in the first 40,000 to 60,000 years of human life (just over

1 per year per 150,000 persons) to growth of more than 1 per 18,000 per year, in a population that probably had not even reached a million by the time

Homo sapiens sapiens spread across the continents (Hassan, II 1973). Human population did not reach 10 million before about 10,000 years ago at the earliest, after the last glaciers receded, and probably not until much later. As hunting drives added protein to an originally plant-based diet in which any flesh food probably came from scavenging, menarche may have come earlier than before, in view of a modern Yugoslav study that shows young women on a protein-rich diet reaching menarche 18 months earlier than young women on a largely carbohydrate diet (Sengel, If 1973). If women married at or even

just before the expected time of menarche, like two of three Dobe !Kung women alive in the 1960s in Botswana in southern Africa (Howell, XXIX 1979), earlier menarche alone could lengthen the potential reproductive span enough to bring about that higher rate of increase without any change in life

expectancy for women at either birth or age 15. The desirability of increasing the number available for band drives could promote both encouragement of linking small bands through marriage and encouragement of childbearing. Yet a real limit was imposed on frequency of childbearing by the difficulty for a woman of having to carry both an infant and a child still too young to walk far, when the band moved to a new area to seek both plant and animal foods. Foraging !Kung women probably maintained an average birth interval of about four years for precisely that reason, through

combining long lactation with enough physical labor to keep their ratio of weight to body height low (mainly by carrying both young children and loads of food) and avoiding any overeating (Howell, XXIX 1979). Whether Homo sapiens neanderthalis developed that pattern and Homo sapiens sapiens continued it, or whether Homo sapiens sapiens emerged out of Homo sapiens neanderthalis in part by developing it, it certainly would have been practical for early foragers. An arithmetic mean age at menarche like that of the !'Kung, 16.6 (!Kung median age, half below and half above, was even higher at 17.1), would allow time for scarcely three births if women who reached maturity died on the average at 25 (a low estimate). They could bear four if they reached an average death age of 30, or five if they reached an average death age of 35 (a high estimate), even though newly matured young women probably at first had frequent anovulatory cycles (as in many poorly fed contemporary populations that lack consistently ample protein-calorie intake). A mean age of 14.3 at menarche, like that of the Ache of Paraguay (Hill and Kaplan, in Betzig and others, II 1988), would barely allow four births before an average death age of 27 to 28 for Ache women who reached reproductive age. Because !Kung ex-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 29 perience suggests that at least two in five of those born probably died before 15 and some of those reaching menarche probably failed to give birth, human numbers could not grow rapidly unless reproductive spans lengthened or intervals between births shortened. Some further improvement in diet might have accompanied the shift from drives to take large game to an increasing reliance on small game, more plentiful and more certain as a protein source (Willigan and Lynch, III 1982). That shift appears to have begun more than

20,000 years ago, as hunting drives led to extinction of more and more hunted animals like the mammoth. More consistent amounts of animal protein in human diets could have lengthened reproductive spans through earlier menarche, longer life for those reaching maturity, or both. That could account for a new doubling in growth rate to about 1 per 9,000 per year (Hassan, II 1973) as the globe began to warm and the glaciers receded. Increasing reliance on small rather than large game also could have brought faster growth in the still small human population of 20,000 years ago by lessening the area a band needed for foraging, thereby lessening the degree to which carrying infants and young children lengthened birth intervals and made long spacing advisable. This suggestion is strengthened by the appearance of distinct boundaries between types of stone tools in that era. Until then, tool types shaded from one form to another in a continuous enough way to make it likely that people were in extremely far-flung relationships, quite prob-

ably for the purpose of arranging both marriages and large hunting drives. Early foragers may only have begun following a pattern like that of many contemporary foragers (with up to 80% of marriages taking place within /ocally functioning groups of small bands) after that turn to smaller game (Gabel, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1977). Among Australian Aborigines, such locally function-

ing groups usually included 7 to 19 bands, each averaging around 25 members. Even then, as the study of both Australian Aborigines and !Kung makes clear, at least 20% of marriages probably continued to be made with individuals from neighboring, similarly organized locally functioning groups or even from locally functioning groups beyond neighboring ones. As the fairly steady small-game supply came to supplément or even replace reliance on a more unpredictable and fluctuating large-game supply, the attractiveness of monogamous pair-bonding probably would have increased. Monogamy would most effectively ensure the survival of a maximum number of offspring to become band members and/or makers of alliances with other bands, under steady or steadily improving resource conditions. Polyandry (more than one husband per wife) would only be more helpful than monogamy to child and group survival in a constantly resource-scarce environment, where it would provide each reproducing woman with more than one man to aid her and the children she bore. Polygyny could be helpful to group survival (if not necessarily to individual child survival) where unusually high male mor-

tality or a large age difference between spouses made the ratio of available males to available females low in the reproductive years. Polygyny could be es-

30 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT pecially helpful to group survival where local resources fluctuated unpredictably. In good times, a man could aid several women and their offspring, ena-

bling numbers to grow enough for a cushion against years of scarcity and death. Around 500 appears to have been a workable size for a locally functioning and basically monogamous group, ensuring enough women of childbearing age for a fairly equal ratio of men to women at the time of reproductive maturation and potential mating. As long as human relations remained fluid, the field of choice would remain open enough for local bands to arrange marriages across wide areas. Individuals or small family units also might change band membership freely across the same wide areas. Like 20th-century foragers, they could use existing kinship or friendship links to enter a new band, or simply be welcomed as replacements for recently deceased members. Locally functioning groups of bands would have come to feel separate, however, once

population growth brought competition for access to hunting or gathering areas rather than cooperation for large hunting drives. They therefore probably became increasingly likely to try to arrange as many marriages as possible within their own ranks, and decreasingly ready to accept newcomers from

outside the locally functioning group. A locally functioning, extensively polygynous or polyandrous group could be smaller than 500, for its members were not trying to furnish each person with his or her own spouse, but could attach a newly matured young person to an already married person. Yet lower total numbers would probably put the group at a long-term disadvantage in relations with larger, neighboring, locally functioning monogamous groups. Numbers would matter in competition for resources. Fortunately for human

beings, whatever competition for resources began after the continents had been occupied did not have time to become self-defeating before global warming brought a receding of glaciation, and with it new opportunity for territorial expansion. The increasing resources and opportunities opened up by that global warming enabled population increases to lead to pressures promoting new uses of

resources. In turn, new resources made new increases possible (Blanton, in Swedlund, I] 1975). That differed from earlier times, when population grew too slowly to provoke dramatic technological advance, and any local increase was soon wiped out by negative feedback. Those gains of 1 in 150,000, then 1 in 18,000, and finally 1 in 9,000 per year undoubtedly form the sum of a great many larger local increases and decreases. Large hunting drives against a species would facilitate growth, followed by precipitous decline as that species

disappeared and its human hunters lost a previous food supply. Some local groups failed to cope with climatic changes. Others succeeded—or moved on, which often led either to a clash or to intermingling with another group. Monogamous locally functioning groups with patterns of relationships that

kept group size around 500 would have had an advantage over smaller groups. Groups that grew larger probably divided, much as Australian Aborig-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 31 ines appear to have done. It is nearly impossible to organize a group of more than about 350 persons—men, women, and children—without some kind of

recognized hierarchy, whether tightly structured or loose and inclusive (Forge, in Ucko and others, III 1972). As a result, what may well have been more egalitarian relationships in earlier and smaller groupings (judging from reports on forest peoples in central Africa) proved ill-adapted to competing for resources. Those who continued to practice egalitarian modes of interaction, therefore, were edged into marginal areas by their more competitive and hierarchically organized neighbors, or even eliminated or absorbed. Once any form of hierarchy appears, so does concern for status protection—not only among leaders or elites, but also among those who are not at the top yet not (and urgently do not want to be) at the bottom of the hierarchy. The resulting status anxiety can affect reproductive behavior, reproductive outcome, and family forms. Men’s greater upper-body power and overall size give them some physical advantages over women, despite initial and continuing male immunological vulnerability. Older people’s knowledge through long experience gives them an advantage over younger (even if physically

stronger) men or women, as long as the mental faculties remain active. Gerontocracy, the rule of older men, can be a natural result. Gerontocracy became marked among Australian Aborigines, who had to cope with an increasingly dry and hostile environment once the globe began to warm. (Rising seas cut them off from contact with other people in other areas by at least 8,000 years ago.) Still, they may have added to their own plight by burning off the forest cover, since they used fire in drive-hunting local large game (Smith, XXI 1980). Gerontocracy is apt to be accompanied by gerontocratic polygyny, assigning all newly matured women to the comparatively few older men rather than the more numerous men nearer their own age. This is evident among Australian Aborigines, in west Africa, and, to a lesser extent, among Muslims and their predecessors in the dry and often hostile band of deserts and plateaus

from the Mediterranean’s south shores to today’s central Afghanistan. If gerontocracy is not accompanied by polygyny, it may be accompanied by favoring male infants and children, and even disfavoring young females. Favoring young males over young females can enable elders to demonstrate and thus maintain their capacity to control. A scarcity of young women lets elders make marriage a reward for young men who accept their leadership, whereas inability to obtain a spouse shows what can happen to the less cooperative. (Late-medieval European convents also could have helped maintain gerontocracy.) Where available resources are expanding, or steady, or scarce only occasionally, gerontocratic polygyny is apt to be used to keep women bearing children at whatever rate local combinations of pathogens and diet make advisable, for maximal survival to the age at which the young can help provide food. In simple agricultural societies, this can be as young as 5, but it has seldom been much before puberty among foragers observed in recent cen-

32 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT turies. Where resources are always scarce—as they became in Australia— elders who practice gerontocratic polygyny may favor male children and disfavor females so as to keep down the number of available wives and, therefore, the number of children. They also may (as in Australia) develop initiation rituals for young males that involve making an incision of the generative organ, which can lessen reproductive potential. They may even (as in desert parts of Australia) continue to reduce their own reproductive ability by continuing to

widen and deepen that incision at each new initiation ceremony, to provide some of the blood required to make the rite effective in the participants’ eyes. Such severe male initiation rituals can bring death to some, thereby easing competition for wives. Although Australian Aborigines’ elaborate systems of kinswoman exchange were meant to ensure that every young woman would have a clear primary claimant, occasional disputes still erupted. As a social group becomes hierarchical, those at the top are apt to encourage those below them to grow in number so as to provide more potential followers. This pattern is apt to be echoed at every other level down to the bottom one, whose members must meet so many demands that they feel an urgent need to produce many children. Each leader can compete more successfully with other leaders if there are more followers to reward through providing access to resources. Such tactics are even more effective if resources are becoming increasingly scarce because numbers are growing more rapidly than current technology can support, or if resource use requires a great deal of preparation organized by the leaders, as in constructing the fish weirs that began to be used as the glaciers receded. Any resisters can be warned through being denied access to resources until they again accept leaders’ demands. The same principles apply to relations between those in every other layer (except the bottom) and those below them. If the entire group grows, it may overflow into neighboring areas, expelling or absorbing their inhabitants. A growing group also may find that it must develop technological advances to avert disaster. Then leaders can remain leaders only by taking a primary role in such development, even if they must enforce more work discipline by using available rewards and punishments. Leaders in such situations are apt to try to increase their own progeny to ensure a built-in set of loyal supporters. With their superior access to resources, they usually can have more offspring who reach adulthood than those below them. Those at the bottom, try as they may, are never apt to have as many offspring reach adulthood as child-desiring members of layers above them. This condition continues until the need for prolonged, resource-consuming preparation for adult life makes leaders decide that they must limit their own offspring. They may then move from polygyny to monogamy; or, as a halfway measure, they may distinguish the claims of children born to women who are daughters of other leaders from the claims of those born to women who are not. Only rarely, as in mainland China today, have leaders decided that resource scarcity requires them consistently to seek to limit those born to their

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 33 followers, to avert large-scale disaster. Some Pacific island chieftains followed such a policy, only granting commoners permission to allow a third child to live as a special favor. Still, the destruction of infants in response to an immedi-

ate emergency could have been as common among early people as among early-20th-century Netsilik Eskimo/Inuit, one in three of whose local bands probably had recently resorted to eliminating about a third of female infants because disasters such as a run of hunting accidents had left the band short of both men and food (Schrire and Steiger, XXII 1974). The degree of infanticide depended on the severity and frequency of crises, but it probably contrib-

uted to the slowness of early population growth. Only rarely do followers seem to have decided that the price of accepting leaders was too high, and to have sought to limit their own numbers so that they would have less need to seek leaders’ favor. Yet Spanish friars reported that both foraging and agricultural peoples in the Americas responded to conquest not only by inducing abortions, but also by killing infants, so that they would not have to undergo the privations adults were feeling. If leaders rule harshly—particularly leaders who do not share bonds of kinship and culture with those they are trying to make into followers—those below may well try to

decrease elite power over them any way they can. In a gerontocracy, all who survive eventually will share the privileges of age. Thus gerontocracy can seem worth accepting, although harsh for the young, for they can hope to lead in turn. Age will bring advantage for a woman—not

just for a man—once the sons a woman bore and raised enter the group’s upper levels and can find ways to benefit her. Matrilineality, so-called, does not

mean descent of leadership from mother to daughter, but from a mother (as sister to the current leader) to her son. It prevails where keeping women together as a kin-linked team (like the fishing teams of some Pacific islands) is more profitable than keeping men together as a kin-linked team (Gough, in Schneider and Gough, III 1961). Matrilineality also tends to be accompanied by enough flexibility in defining and maintaining marriage ties so that a man is not sure of lasting bonds with the children he fathers. Succession, therefore,

seems easier to define through being born of the same mother than through being born of the same father, as in a patrilineal society, where succession goes from father to son. Other forms of succession recognize a child’s links to both its parents, as in a bilateral society—usually basically monogamous—in which each child of either sex has kinship rights in both its parents’ families, or a duolineal society—not so necessarily monogamous—in which a man’s position or possessions go to his sons and a woman’s go to her daughters. Both women and men are apt to accept gerontocracy with little open opposition, as long as its demands are not too harsh. If those demands increase, leaders may have to use more than the immediate reward (and punishment, through noninclusion) of redistributing the gifts brought to them by those seeking their favor, in systems of prestation or gift-giving like those made famous by the potlatch redistributions of northwest North American foragers.

34 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT The leaders may need to develop both psychological and physical coercive mechanisms. They may begin by using (and/or abusing) already-held beliefs about the universe to establish firmer psychological control. They may claim, “Not only will I not give you anything, but neither will the Powers on High.” They may claim, “Not only will I see that you are punished, but so will the Powers on High,” and direct their most reliable followers to use force on the recalcitrant. Where leaders manage relations with other, neighboring groupings, they are apt to continue using religious beliefs and sanctions even if they also use more tangible sanctions like physical coercion or expulsion from the group. As religious beliefs and sanctions become more important for maintaining the group, and as innovating technologically also becomes more important for its maintenance and possible growth, simple gerontocracy is apt to be modified by recognizing that a young man gains advantages from being reared by a man with special knowledge (like the use of herbs or the content of rituals), whether he is the man’s own son or a youth chosen for demonstrable ability. A capacity to make new suggestions that turn out to be useful also may become a basis for inclusion among the leaders, even for someone still young and/or not the son or chosen successor of a recognized leader. At this point, both an incipient intelligentsia and an incipient hereditary elite are appearing. Any increases in leaders’ demands on followers’ time and energy tend to make followers feel a need for help from offspring. Leaders’ demands have been a primary spur to human reproduction at least since the first moves toward raising food crops rather than just gathering plant foods, and possibly even since the first moves toward mounting hunting drives as better than scavenging. Leaders’ demands also have been a primary spur toward socializing the young into obedience and conformity (rather than independence and initiative), except for those chosen for birth or talent to be groomed for leadership themselves. Building and operating a fish weir, for example, took organization and collective action. Whether persuasion by discussion or insistence backed by coercion was used, collective action required getting people to give time and effort. Some discussion was virtually required, as long as those who objected could readily go elsewhere and start over; but coercion-backed command was possible where there was no easy way to leave, as on a Pacific island whose sacred trees were protected from unauthorized boatbuilders by both awe and human guardians. Up toa point, followers could manage collective action without added numbers, particularly if it brought more food fairly quickly, as with a fish weir. Parents, however, began to need help as tasks began to multiply, once gathering gave way to agriculture, and hunting to herding. Small nuclear family units (husband and wife; husband, wife, infant; husband, wife, infant, young child;

husband, wife, infant, young child, prepubertal child)—occasionally augmented by a spouse’s sibling or aged parent or by a postpubertal child not yet married—would have already existed within the bands that made up locally

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 35 functioning groups 10,000 years ago. By then, increasing growth rates brought human beings to a new total of perhaps as many as 10 million and perhaps as few as 4 million. As leaders’ demands grew, small family units began to turn to their own younger members for aid. They also began to find that they could increase younger members’ numbers by applying aspects of the new agricultural and herding technologies. Because increasing numbers not only required new technological advances to provide for all, but also facilitated those advances to provide for yet more, it is scarcely surprising that the 6,000 years after 8000 B.C. may have seen an increase to at least 27 million (McEvedy and Jones, III 1978). Hassan (II 1973) suggests that as foraging began to be replaced by food production, human population growth was dropping to perhaps 1 in 30,000 per year, probably because of population pres-

sures. Only after agriculture was fully developed does he believe that population growth rose steeply, reaching 1 in 1,000 every year for a time. The result was a new population peak around 2000 B.c. followed by a new slowdown for the next 1,000 years, until new technological advances enabled num-

bers to move upward once again. Some believe that population actually stopped growing; others believe that the rate of increase merely lessened. It would be foolhardy to assume that all human beings on every continent in 8000 B.c. were identically organized into locally functioning groups of 20 primarily monogamous bands of 25 apiece, each band with five married couples (one in each decade from the late teens to the early 50s), four infants, three young children, three older children, two not-yet-married postpubertal young people, one widowed childless woman who had become a second wife to one of the older husbands, and two widowed parents of younger married people, even though it is just barely possible that these might have been the statistical averages. Depending on current local availability of plant and animal food, and equally importantly on emotion-influenced relationships among individu-

als, foraging bands could range in size from 40 or more down to 1 muchfeared man no one else would join, as observed among the 20th-century Hadza of Tanzania (Woodburn, in Ucko and others, II] 1972). Bands’ propor-

tions of infants, children, young adults, and older adults also could vary greatly. Membership fluctuated frequently, as individuals or family units came and went in the ongoing universal effort to adjust those using local resources to the types and amounts of local resources currently available. When wild rice

or salmon were in season, many would leave forests for riverbanks to join bands already there. Yet some—fond of rabbit meat or allergic to fish or attractive to mosquitoes—would stay in the woods to await the others’ return. Locally functioning groups of bands would fluctuate less wildly. If disaster cut a locally functioning group to fewer than 100 or so, its remaining members were apt to join another nearby group whose numbers were below optimal level, or else be joined by members of a nearby group that was becoming numerous enough for some to want to move to a less fully used area. In resource-

scarce Australia, locally functioning 19th- and 20th-century groups only

36 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT occasionally grew as large as 500 before dividing and rearranging boundaries. Dobe !Kung, who also intermarried fairly often with neighboring !Kung bands, had passed 500 before they were studied in 1969-73. By then, few, if any, of them lived only by foraging. They obtained food and other goods by helping Bantu cattle-herders, who were already regularly grazing their animals in the area by the 1920s. Because the ethnographers of 1969-73 transported !Kung to hospitals, saving the lives of some adults, age distributions might have been

affected enough to make the apparent one in three aged 15 or younger underrepresent earlier !Kung experience. Thus !Kung demographic data cannot fully represent early human forager experience (Howell, XXIX 1979). Nor can demographic data from Australia, which were collected only after Euro-

pean settlers had already pushed Aborigines out of many areas, and also might differ from experience in less harsh environments. Extrapolation to early forager experience also is risky for central African rainforest data, since Mbuti and other foragers there have lived for centuries in trading relationships with crop-growing villagers at the forest's edge. Nor can Amazon basin data be safely relied on for early forager experience, since at least some Amazonian peoples only took refuge in the forests when Portuguese seized their agricultural lands along the coasts and lower river-courses from the 16th century on.

Such data are provocative, but by no means definitive. Within each locally functioning group, most firstborns probably would still

have at least one parent to help arrange their first marriages, and most laterborns’ marriages probably were arranged by one of their own older siblings or by a parent’s younger sibling. Unhappy marriages probably were soon dissolved for the sake of good relations within and between bands, necessary for continued cooperation. Each partner could then seek a more compatible spouse and/or move to another band. Any infant or very young child born into the dissolved marriage probably would go with its mother, but an older child (especially a son) might prefer the father. An infant or very young child might be at some risk if the mother then married a man who wanted his own children, unless he also wanted to please her by treating it well. A man whose previous wives did not have children with him probably would care welcomingly for his new wife’s offspring. Because networks of cooperating kin broadened access to food-providing areas, early foragers probably were broadly inclusive in their sense of kinship, and also may have used blood-brotherhood rituals or other means of initiating fictive kin ties. !Kung clearly instruct children that to give a gift establishes and continues a reciprocal gift-giving relationship, widening the circle of mutual assistance beyond kin. One’s kin circle would include not only blood kin to both one’s parents (consanguine kin, or consanguines) and a spouse’s blood kin (affinal kin, or affines), but even a former spouse’s blood kin, if there were children who remained as links with them. Most early foragers probably saw kinship as bilateral, relating everyone equally to everyone of either sex on both parents’ sides. They also may have

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 37 used quite simple sets of kinship terms. Elaborate distinctions would mean too little to need different terms until claims to status, rights, or goods became significant as rising competition and hierarchical structure followed population growth. Locally functioning groups would then come to feel more set off from similar neighboring groups than linked with them. Like the Hawaiians whose name marks Hawaiian kinship terminology, among the types recognized by anthropologists, early foragers may have called all parental-generation kin “mothers” or “fathers” and all cousins “brothers” or “sisters” (or “siblings,”

like the Mbuti, not even distinguishing by sex). Only later, as inheritance became significant, might distinctions found in Eskimo (Inuit), Crow and Omaha, Iroquois and Dravidian, and Sudanese kinship terminologies have begun to appear. In Eskimo terminology, associated like Hawaiian with bilateral kinship systems, different terms are used according to sex for one’s own parents and their siblings, and for one’s own siblings and one’s parents’ siblings’ children. Yet whether the parent’s sibling is on the mother’s or the father’s side makes no difference in his being an uncle or her being an aunt, and whether a cousin is the child of an uncle or an aunt also makes no difference. In Crow terminology, associated with matrilineality, all parental-generation kin are mothers or

fathers, but distinctions between siblings and cousins are only important enough on the mother’s side to be given different terms. In Omaha terminology, associated with patrilineality, all parental-generation kin also are mothers or fathers, but distinctions between siblings and cousins are only important enough on the father’s side to be given different terms. Distinctions between blood kin and affines are important enough in societies using Crow or Omaha systems for them to add other terms for spouse’s kin. In Jroquois terminology, sometimes associated with duolineality but more often with matrilineality, all parental-generation kin are mothers or fathers. Still, cousins are distinguished by their parents’ relation to one’s own parents. Generally speaking, children of a father’s sister or a mother’s brother (cross cousins) call each other cousins and are actively discouraged from marrying in matrilineal societies using Iroquois terminology. A brother’s leadership in a matrilineal society apparently gives him too much power over his sister’s child as his own child’s spouse. Parallel cousins, children of two brothers or two sisters, call each other brother and sister in Iroquois terminology. Like Crow and Omaha systems, Iroquois systems usually have a different set of terms for affines. In Dravidian terminology, most often associated with a mixture of matrilineal and patrilineal inheritance, cross cousins are actively preferred as marriage partners. Indeed, one’s spouse is so apt to be blood kin (a man’s older sister’s daughter may even be a preferred choice) that Dravidian terminology lacks separate terms for a spouse’s kin. Dravidian terminology draws distinctions among cousins in the same manner as Iroquois terminology, and also calls all parental-generation kin mothers or fathers. Sudanese terminology, associated with patrilineality, draws distinctions between one’s parents and one’s parents’

38 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT siblings and between cross and parallel cousins, as well as between all cousins and one’s own siblings. It also may indicate whether an aunt, an uncle, a cross cousin, or a parallel cousin is or is not on the all-important father’s side. The

continuing Norwegian use of farfar, farmor, farbror, morfar, mormor, and morbror for grandparents and parents’ brothers in Sudanese style, even though other uncles are called onkel and all aunts are called tante in Eskimo style, illustrates how actual kinship terminology systems may blend elements of more than one pattern. Norwegians’ usage probably reflects their continu-

ing use of ambilineality (also used by Scots and New Zealand Maori). In ambilineality, one chooses which of one’s great-grandparental lines one wants to emphasize; but though one primarily focuses on one grandparent’s pater-

nal or maternal line, one maintains links with the other three grandparents’ lines, so that one’s children may be entitled to choose among their eight greatgrandparental lines. Early foragers certainly knew that a mother’s brother was not really a father or a father’s brother and that a cousin was not really a sibling, but the distinctions probably seemed too unimportant to need specific short terms. As long

as one could make clear, if needed, that someone was a mother’s sister’s daughter, that was enough. The rise of agriculture probably was what brought terms for such distinctions, as individuals sought cultivation rights in this or

that place and those already there tried to set priorities. Groups probably moved increasingly toward matrilineality or patrilineality or duolineality or ambilineality. Clear inheritance became more important than remaining bilateral to maximize everyone’s network of available opportunities. Numbers mattered. Feeding 10 million (if there were that many people when agriculture began) or even 4 million would be quite different from feeding 1 million, or the even fewer earliest humans. Numbers mattered locally too. Bilaterality would still maximize potential allies if one thought that one had to resist others’ encroachment rather than accept newcomers or move on, as foragers were apt to do. Yet patrilineality outdid bilaterality and ambilineality in cohesiveness, for it drew all related men together and did not divide loyalties between father’s and mother’s kin. In theory, matrilineality, too, might keep related men together; but in practice, men’s interests were apt to be divided between their sisters’ children and the children fathered with their wives. Matrilineal peoples, therefore, were less able to form lastingly cohesive fighting units than patrilineal or even bilateral and ambilineal peoples. Duolineality also kept men united, but could only be practiced over a limited area. As locally functioning groups became more separate and competitive, women’s movement between groups as wives probably decreased, lessening their

value as peacemakers between brothers’ groups and husbands’ groups. Bilaterality might, therefore, have lost some of its earlier attractiveness even before agriculture arose. As clashes over who was and who was not welcome ina given gathering or hunting area grew in size and number, leaders presumably began looking for ways to end those conflicts, for every conflict meant loss of

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 39 lives, even if it opened areas previously closed by others’ refusals. Surely that contributed to a probable decline in population growth from 1 in 9,000 to 1 in

30,000 per year (Hassan, II 1973) just before the rise of agriculture. Near Darwin in north Australia, well over 10% of all Turi men aged 25 to 45 were killed in raids and counterraids between 1893 and 1903 (Pilling, in Lee and Devore, II 1968). The harsh north Australian environment may have made that

figure unusually high, but it shows how serious such losses could be. “If only we could find more food!” must have been a common, if only halfarticulated, thought. The Shatt-al-Arab drainage area in lower Iraq (ancient Mesopotamia), where wild wheat and barley fed more and more people as the earth warmed and the glaciers withdrew, became one of the first areas in which that thought led to action. Before 8000 B.c.— perhaps as early as 9000 B.C.—visibly sprouting new grain on the past season’s rubbish heaps evidently

led some to see that grain could be planted, not merely waited for, and to make digging sticks. Others must have begun to see that milking animals would gain food from them without killing them. Using observation of herd animals’ habits to tame remaining herds of grass-eating animals (taking a few to kill and eat from time to time) came to seem better than killing them all off, as SO many animals had been killed before. Animals that resisted taming were doubtless killed first, leaving the most docile to produce docile descendants. Planting and weeding, herding and milking brought more and more settledness into those people’s lives. With settledness came a new population explosion. New food sources and new ways of living brought new demands for more (not fewer) people, along with ways to supply that demand. The era of foraging bands—probably bilateral, largely monogamous (except where local resource fluctuations already encouraged polygyny), and with an average death age for those who reached 15 that seldom was much over 30—was drawing to a close. The era of settled agricultural villagers and pastoralists—apt to move toward patrilineality and polygyny, with an average death age for those who reached 15 that eventually rose to over 40 when metal began replacing stone—was coming into view. Now it would be households rather than bands that sought the three-activesto-two-dependents ratio needed to meet members’ needs, in the face of overall ratios that remained less favorable. To plant and raise crops, fields had to be cleared, planted, weeded, quarded

against hungry birds and animals, and harvested. That meant more work, more time, more energy, more organization, and more need to coordinate work, at least at clearing time. Therefore, the upper layers of existing incipient hierarchies gained a firmer grasp on power when locally functioning foraging

groups first began raising crops.

Stone axes and knives could cut down trees and bushes on upper Mesopotamia’s riverbanks, but what was to be done with the trunks and branches? Someone must have thought it simpler to burn them than to carry them away. Immediate realization that fire cleared the ground for planting,

40 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT and eventual realization that it also eliminated seeds of rival plants, led to swidden, or slash-and-burn, agriculture. Similar realizations elsewhere, per-

haps even earlier on the Caspian Sea’s south shore, eventually spread swidden techniques everywhere that population pressure brought a change from foraging to agriculture. Despite conservationists’ anguish today, swidden

techniques are still used in some tropical and semitropical areas. As long as human numbers remained small enough in upper Mesopotamia or anywhere else, swidden agriculture could be sustained for generations. A cultivating group could raise a crop in one area, move to another in one or two years as other plants began crowding in, and keep moving through the years to one area after another in the region where its members also probably still foraged for part of the year, like swidden-and-forager Ayoreo in South America’s Bolivia-Paraguay border area (Bugos and McCarthy, in Hausfater and Hrdy, II 1984). The group might take 25 years to return to the now rewooded area where the cycle’s first crop was planted. Only a few adults would recall that earlier planting. Swidden agriculture also is called /ong-fallow agriculture, from the long intervals between crop plantings in each field. Numbers did not stay small enough, however, to continue swidden indefinitely. As former foraging bands became more sedentary, they were apt to graze domesticated animals close to currently cultivated areas, which made tending animals another task needed for successful agriculture. Because women no longer had to carry an infant or toddler for long distances every few days, they probably lost some of the leanness that could protect forager mothers of infants or toddlers from a new pregnancy. Women could now shorten lactation, for grain could be boiled into soft digestible infant food, while domestic animals provided milk to substitute for lactation. Shortening lactation would almost certainly shorten lactation’s protection against pregnancy. Shorter birth intervals, and probably lower mortality as food supplies improved, would readily account for a leap in the population growth rate from 1 per 30,000 per year to 1 in 1,000 per year as swidden agriculture appeared around the world. Unfortunately, long-fallow, slash-and-burn agriculture becomes self-defeating when human numbers grow too large. If the cycle becomes less than ten years, fire-resistant grasses begin replacing trees and bushes, so that cultivators can no longer use swidden. Removing tree cover and increasing airborne soil particles as winds pass over cultivated fields also begin changing local climate, diminishing rainfall and raising temperatures. That point must have been reached in upper Mesopotamia by about 7000 B.c., for hoes with stone blades replaced digging sticks during the next 1,500 years. Evidently field crops needed more diligent weeding because of grasses’ stubborn persistence, when each field of a group’s cycle was used more often. As time between plantings in a field decreased, short-fallow agriculture, with diminishing and eventually disappearing tree cover, began to replace long-fallow agriculture and continued forestation. The same pattern would be repeated later in the

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 41 plains of north India and north China, as well as in large parts of Europe, Africa, and the Americas. Where long-fallow agriculture prevails, as it still does in much of Papua New Guinea, a people like the Gainj may develop a pattern that keeps numbers constant enough not to require a change to short-fallow agriculture (Wood, XXI 1980). Over the past 3,000 years, Gainj developed a density-dependent system combining late menarche, relatively late marriage for women, at least a year’s delay before new spouses lived together, and chronic malnutrition. Ironpoor diet brought not only late menarche, but also many anovulatory cycles interspersed with women’s fertile ones. Thus median age at first birth was 28 (half younger, half even older), birth interval averaged 40 months, and women averaged only four to five births. Mortality clearly kept numbers from changing greatly. When food shortages lowered resistance to disease, illness took the oldest and the youngest, opening places for the next births to fill. Gainj live in a remote, steep, almost inaccessible valley (between neighboring peoples in similar valleys who have developed similar systems over that same 3,000-year span), however, not in a broad plain like early Mesopotamians. Early agricultural Mesopotamians probably saw their own expansion as almost indefinitely possible, not limited by clifflike valley walls. Because they had more protein in their diet than did the Gainj, they probably also had earlier menarche and shorter birth intervals. Early long-fallow agricultural Mesopotamian women might or might not have had much more time for bearing children than did Gainj women, who had a life expectancy at birth of only 29 but probably could expect about 24 or 25 more years at age 15. Life expectancy for both sexes combined may have been 22 at birth and fewer than 20 years more at age 20 for neolithic (new stone age, early agricultural) Cyprus between 4000 and 3000 B.c., and about 16 years left at age 20 for neolithic Hungary (Acsadi and Nemeskeri, II 1970). Later neolithic remains in Japan suggest about 31 at birth (Kobayashi, I] 1967), whereas neolithic remains in

Anatolia may suggest as much as 38 (Hassan, II 1973). Neolithic Greece shows perhaps 18 years left at age 15 (Angel, in Polgar, II 1975). Survival chances for those born to early agricultural Mesopotamian women would have been better than in the immediate preagricultural era of pressure on food supplies; and insofar as earlier menarche lengthened women’s reproductive span, or they gave birth at shorter intervals, or both, they could have borne more infants than did the foragers or the Gainj. Resulting increases in local population density eventually would lead to epidemics and higher death rates, as parasites from newly domesticated animals moved on to human hosts. Close everyday living in permanent villages, which began to appear with short-fallow agriculture, would greatly facilitate the rapid spread of any parasite that did succeed in making such a transfer. Yet, because long-fallow users did not yet live in those conditions, tangible mortality decline as diet improved

would have increased population growth in the long-fallow period. From the standpoint of leaders, growth in numbers was all to the good.

42 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT More people meant more workers (and more defenders, if needed), who meant more food, which meant more workers, and so on around. To those who thought about it, this must have seemed at first to be a potentially infinite upward spiral. With more workers came possibilities of more clearing, planting, weeding, herding (and dairying), harvesting, building, celebration of suc-

cess through community-building religious rituals and festivals, weaving, pottery-making, tool-making, organization of exchanges of local products for

desired products from nearby and then ever more distant areas... . Almost certainly, having more workers became desirable to leaders, who kept finding new tasks to suggest. To the degree that followers as well as leaders benefited from those tasks, followers also would want more new workers. Even if followers merely perceived themselves as not being worse off than they might be if they departed, they were apt not to see how to resist demands for more work. They would, therefore, want more workers simply to meet the demands on them. Women in particular began to have growing reason to want more births. Child-rearing takes time, let alone trying to combine child-rearing with weed-

ing, dairying, weaving, and other new chores like preparing meals, which joined gardening and dairying in replacing gathering as women’s share in providing food. Rural 19th-century Germany saw a real, though temporary, rise in both infant and maternal mortality because women were simply overworked

by struggling to add money-earning piecework at home to the demands of family and farm (Imhof, in Bengtsson and others, VI 1984). Women in agricultural societies could have a large and demanding set of tasks. Agricultural households in the Himalayan mountain village of Tamang needed more working days each year than two adults could provide, if they were to give any child

care at all. Even subtracting days for going farther up the mountains with herds in summer would barely cover child-rearing. Any household without the equivalent of two adults’ full-time work fell inexorably behind in Tamang, not to recover until and unless it replenished its work force, and even then only after at least as great a period as the period it had been understaffed (Fricke, XVI 1986). Lactation and child care took 20% to 25% of a Gainj woman’s day during her fertile years, even at the low fertility accompanying long average birth intervals (Wood, XXI 1980). As Mesopotamian women adjusted to long-fallow agriculture, it is hard to imagine them spending less time than that in lactation and child care at the outset. Yet they could soon see that a child who could fol-

low simple instructions could help with a younger child, run errands, carry water, fetch twigs and branches for cooking, and keep animals out of crops. Foragers seldom begin expecting much help until children are old enough to have absorbed and applied a fair amount of instruction on which plants to gather and how, which snakes to avoid and how to avoid them, which predators to fear and how to outwit them. People in agricultural areas are apt to begin expecting help as young as 5 or 6. Among fishing-and-horticulture Ifaluk in the western Pacific, women age 44 or over who had a daughter first

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 43 averaged more than six children surviving to the time of interview, whereas those who had a son first averaged nearer four (Turke, in Betzig and others, II 1988). Evidently daughters can be helpful to mothers in child-rearing, in an agricultural society based on rainfall and simple technology. The Japanese traditionally preferred having a daughter first to help raise laterborn sons, ina complex irrigation-technology agricultural society. As increasingly complex technology and daily activities pressed more and more tasks on both women and men, women (and men) probably welcomed a recognition that earlier weaning (made possible by cereal gruel and animal milk) meant shorter birth intervals. Women and men surely welcomed children’s help. In contemporary rural Bangladesh, a young boy’s labor can provide by his midteens for everything put into raising him. By his early 20s, he also can provide for having raised a sister, enabling the parents to provide her marriage dowry and his bridewealth. Most young rural men in Bangladesh, therefore, marry in their mid-20s, though their sisters marry as much as ten years earlier (Nag, in Eberstadt, III] 1981). These calculations are for an area in which a boy can earn money by working for other cultivators in busy seasons, which would not have been true in neolithic upper Mesopotamia. Yet they demonstrate well how much even a rather young boy can contribute in an agricultural family. Young girls and boys in Java (White, in Nag, II] 1975) and in Yoruba families in southwest Nigeria (Caldwell, XXIX 1975) have made at least equally significant contributions to household and farm work. As the population kept growing in the short-fallow era, epidemics almost surely began cutting into local numbers. Both women and men may, therefore, have wanted even more to use procreation to keep up the work force. After 5500 B.c., hoe cultivation of rain-fed fields gave way to plow cultivation of fields irrigated by newly dug canals carrying river water to them. This again increased crop yield per acre, but the added labor needs continued or even intensified pressure for more births. New canal-digging technology allowed expansion southward, where rainfall was scarce. The fertility of the lower plain’s alluvial soil (mainly silt washed downstream from deforested upper stretches) set off a new cycle of population growth, crowding, and forming elites to supervise, coordinate, and protect. One settlement after another walled itself in against possible attacks from foes. Full-time armies were formed, which soon began conducting protection through preventive strikes against neighboring settlements. Full-time clergy came into being to protect against deities’ wrath. Full-time government arose, using the new invention of writing to keep records so that rulers could coordinate army, clergy, food-providing cultivators, full-time craftspeople within the city’s walls, and full-time local and long-distance traders. The rise of cities was

accompanied by the discovery that a certain shiny material that could be melted out of certain rocks could be mixed with another such material to form a new material, bronze, from which light sharp knives and weapons could be made. If a rate of increase of 1 per 1,000 per year could be maintained, the

44 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT time needed to double human population would drop from hundreds of centuries to only 700 years. How soon population increase might have reached 1 per 1,000 per year, what fluctuations in actual numbers affected that rate as epidemics appeared and trade spread new diseases, how accurate anyone’s estimates are—all these remain uncertain. What we do see in the written records of early cities is a patrilineal family system greatly concerned with delineating property rights, a natural companion to fear of losing means of livelihood and, therefore, life.

Patrilineality flourished where many saw opportunities as limited, even though a fortunate few saw opportunities as limitless. The discovery of a patrilineal system in the first usable written records (from the last few centuries before the population boom seems to have leveled off around 2000 B.C.) encourages reasoning backward about early Mesopotamia. Observations about more recent agricultural and forager communities can offer possible analogies to probable earlier situations, but they must be critically treated. Because patrilineal systems have been recorded in the 19th and 20th centuries as replacing other forms under conditions of increasing population pressure and/or economic change, certain qualitative hypotheses seem reasonable even though numerical averages should not be assumed to mean uniformity in real situations. Both a Gainj and a Dobe !Kung woman might bear one child or nine, not four or five or any number in between. Still, it is significant that 9 births is the maximum in both groups—not 11 or 12 or even more, as in most other populations with 4 to 5 as an average before the spread of modern contraceptives. Bilateral and monogamous norms would fit most foragers’ lives, except perhaps in harsh environments like Australia’s interior. Even in the Arctic, bilaterality and monogamy prevailed, though men’s deaths from accidents or freezing apparently necessitated some female infanticide to maintain a reasonably even sex ratio among adults. Bilaterality and monogamy also fit long-

fallow agricultural life in most regions. One study found 60% of forager groups bilateral and another 8% duolineal, with 19% patrilineal and 13% matrilineal. Among horticulturalists (corresponding to long-fallow and shortfallow hoe agriculturalists taken together), 32% were bilateral, 6% duolineal, 41% patrilineal, and 21% matrilineal (Aberle, in Schneider and Gough, III 1961). As long-fallow cultivation turned to short-fallow cultivation, gradual change from camp life to hamlet life in huts separated family units. Separate huts brought separation of what each family unit expected to use. This may or

may not have led to one parent’s or spouse’s kin seeming more important than the other parent’s or spouse’s kin in ensuring a person’s claim to cultivation rights, as cropping cycles shortened and each hamlet’s territory gradually shrank with population growth. Yet because both internal population pressure and external threat could push toward patrilineality, it seems reasonable that even in the short-fallow stage, bilaterality was apt to remain more common than among recent peoples who have been deeply affected by the rise

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 45 and spread of European empires around the world in the 16th through 19th centuries. Once irrigated plow agriculture began, any previous patrilineal tendency was probably increased by needs for men’s upper-body power and leaders’ growing demands on followers. Men’s power was valued for digging and main-

taining irrigation canals and for managing work animals, whereas women’s strength in endurance was less dramatically evident. The hypothesis of increasing patrilineality is supported by the same study, with 59% of plow aagricultural groups patrilineal, 32% bilateral, 8% matrilineal, and fewer than 1% duolineal. Only pastoralist groups showed more patrilineality, 64%, to 24%

bilaterality, 6% miatrilineality, and not quite 6% duolineality (Aberle, in Schneider and Gough, III 1961). Leaders could encourage a sense of cultivation rights and/or other rights going directly from father to son simply because it would halve the number of

people whose potentially conflicting claims they had to adjust. Strata, in which leaders were called on to determine who did or did not own resources, were replacing ranks, in which leaders merely determined who might currently use resources seen as held in common by all. Leaders could favor men’s rights because men usually were the ones being persuaded, cajoled, or required to use their upper-body power for projects like building and maintaining irrigation systems. In addition, the men whom leaders regularly worked with also were the ones whom leaders usually expected to see that their households provided any other wanted goods or services. Cutting trees, clearing fields, or building and maintaining irrigation systems

together could replace hunting together as a means of male bonding. Yet there was a crucial difference between band life and village life. Hunting groups’ male cohesiveness usually was balanced by female cohesiveness among gatherers, who worked together much of the time. Decisions to move often meant deciding between hunting prospects in one direction and gathering prospects in another direction, for which women’s input was essential. Women in separate households in agricultural hamlets would do much less of their work together than in forager bands. Ethnographic accounts of village life in a wide variety of societies suggest that women worked and talked together as much as possible. Still, agricultural village life diminished the kinds of community-affecting decisions that needed their input. Their tasks usually promoted the interest of the household, not the community. The household, not the community, consequently became the practical limit of their active influence, even where patrilineality did not prevail. Where it did, women often were actively discouraged from bonding beyond the household, leaving wider community affairs even more exclusively in men’s hands. By the time bronze and walled cities heralded a new stage, patrilineal family

forms probably outnumbered other types along Mesopotamia’s rivers. In hamlets and villages as well as forager bands, firstborns’ first marriages proba-

bly were arranged by one or both parents, but those of laterborns probably

46 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT were arranged by older siblings or other older kin. Where bilaterality, duolineality, ambilineality, or matrilineality prevailed, opportunity to leave an incompatible partner for a more compatible one probably also continued, at least for a time. In patrilineal communities (and some others also), problems in adjusting inheritance claims from children of a first spouse and claims from children of later spouses eventually decreased leaders’ willingness to see any marriage dissolved by means other than death. Marital dissolution also increasingly distressed followers, who might lose out if a dissatisfied spouse (read “wife” here, since the followers whom leaders cared to placate also were

men) left the household and married someone else. Clear delineation of claims became more important than compatibility, leading to indissoluble marriage (or dissolubility only under specific, limited conditions). The sense of who were closest kin—from whom to expect and to whom to give the most aid—tfollowed the sense of where claims were most worth pursuing because most apt to be accepted. Only rarely, in increasingly competitive situations in which men would be a village’s defenders from encroachment, would that be

on the mother’s side. Most villagers’ family households probably were much like family units in forager bands: a nucleus of spouses and unwed offspring augmented by other kin (usually parents or siblings to one or the other spouse) who gave, needed, or both gave and needed services. As birth intervals shortened, average numbers of unwed offspring in a household increased. Yet modern populations’ lower mortality and greater longevity make it unlikely that most early villagers would have experienced an average household size greater than the ranges recently reported by a limited number of countries for rural areas: 4.5 to 6.6 in

African countries, 4.7 to 6.7 in Asian countries other than industrialized Japan, 4.4 to 6.2 in the Pacific islands, and only 4.2 to 4.9 in Latin America (United Nations, II] 1989). Still, cooperation in those early villages between closely linked family units in separate dwellings probably was very real. It would be as inappropriate to see separate family households as completely distinct entities as it would be to see forager bands as having fixed rather than constantly fluctuating memberships. Leaders were apt to enlarge their own households to impress others with how much support they could easily muster. They retained married offspring and their children, brought in other kin, and even took in children of followers (at all levels of the local hierarchy) to provide additional services and receive appropriate favors in return. Leaders were likelier than followers to forego monogamy in favor of seeking children (new potential supporters) by taking additional wives. They also might favor early marriage for women (“we need childbearing; and a girl married young is readier to adjust to a husband than a maturer woman”), but not necessarily for men (“men need more time to prepare for adulthood than women, who only work within a household; and a mature husband can more easily lead a younger wife”).

Movements toward patrilineality, significant age difference between

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 47 spouses, some polygyny (at least for leaders), and some limitations on divorce certainly did not take place uniformly everywhere in Mesopotamia before cit-

ies arose. It cannot at this point be fully proven that those movements appeared before urban life. Yet some seeds of such a system must have been sown early, for it is already visible in the first usable written records in Mesopotamia, in neighboring regions, and in almost the entire area from there west to the Atlantic gateway of the Mediterranean and east to the mountain gateway

between today’s Afghanistan and the north India plain. It may have fit the growing presence of pastoral peoples throughout that area. Those who herd large animals have almost always been observed to tend toward patrilineality, polygyny, enough age difference between spouses to make polygyny possible, and a flexibility of membership of tent groups (not households) almost like foragers’ flexibility, even though specific kin ties or fictive kin ties like blood brotherhood were apt to be a condition for remaining more than a few days with a tent group. A traveling band of tent groups was more like a forager band than a village, with less delineation between tent groups than between village households. Still, the need to organize to keep animals from wandering off or being taken meant that pastoralists depended heavily on men’s making decisions for the group. Moreover, pastoralist men replaced women as the ones most concerned with the state of plant life in areas to be grazed. Only in remote northern Eurasia (where the stark need to maximize networks made bilaterality useful) and in the almost equally remote Andes mountains of South America (where bilaterality and duolineality prevailed when 16th-century Spanish conquerors recorded their new subjects’ customs) was patrilineality not the usual rule. Without the pastoralists of the Americas, pastoralists in the study previously used (Aberle, in Schneider and Gough, III

1961) were an overwhelming 77% patrilineal, to 12% bilateral, 5% matrilineal, and 6% duolineal. It is impossible to know whether early pastoralists in the Mediterranean realm and lands east of it shared the tendency of 20th-century pastoralists in Sudan (Henin, XXIX 1968,1969) and Mali (Hill, in Hill, XXIX 1985) to bear fewer children and also to have more child loss than villagers in the same general region. Yet it is possible, for nomadic life was potentially harder than village life for pregnant women, new mothers, and the very young, except for being caught less often in local epidemics. If herders did have more child loss and fewer children than did villagers, then tent groups may have been smaller than village households, more like family units in a band of foragers, averaging perhaps four to five rather than five to six. In any case, pastoralists and villagers probably came to exchange milk, meat, and hides for grain and grazing rights in harvested fields (which grazing animals would fertilize) as soon as mutual distinctions were drawn between those who kept a few animals but stayed in one place to raise crops and those who traveled to seek grazing for their animals. Mobile herders often had advantages over villagers, as pastoral

Israelites’ conquest of agricultural Canaanites showed thousands of years

48 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT later. Pastoralists also could be more flexible about family relationships than agriculturalists. Because animals were self-increasing and easily divided, even patrilineal pastoralists may have been readier to accept divorce than those villagers who adopted patrilineality to clarify lines of inheritance for claims to cultivation rights. Increasing numbers of both villagers and pastoralists in Mesopotamia and elsewhere from the Mediterranean realm to Iran and beyond, as those born and surviving increased with cultivation and herding, helped to bring total human population to new heights by the time of the first cities. Even if a great

initial dying off had occurred when widespread glaciation affected early human development, total numbers then were probably still relatively low. Whether total human numbers were still at about 10 million in 3500 B.c. (McEvedy and Jones, III 1978) or already larger, they unquestionably climbed fairly steadily as agriculture began appearing around the globe, often, but not

always, in company with pastoralism. A larger number than 10 million in 3500 B.C. would be more compatible with John D. Durand’s estimate of about 300 million at A.D. O (III 1977); but 10 million in 3500 B.c. would be more compatible with McEvedy and Jones’ estimate of under 200 million at A.D. 0.

North of the Mediterranean realm, in Europe north of the Alps and Pyrenees mountain chains, signs of long-fallow agriculture go back to when cities appeared both in Mesopotamia and along the Nile. Yet signs of shortfallow and eventually plow agriculture—with their probable accompanying changes in family and community organization—go back only to when cities already existed in the Mediterranean region. It is likely, but not provable, that early European villagers remained largely bilateral, largely monogamous, reluctant to accept divorce by comparison with foragers yet still allowing it, and under little pressure from leaders’ work expectations to strive to increase births. As late as 1000 B.c., population density in rain-fed non-Mediterranean Europe was under 2.5 per square kilometer, less than a quarter of the 10 per square kilometer in irrigated Mesopotamia when cities began (McEvedy and Jones, II] 1978). By 1000 B.c., Iberia and northern Italy had trading centers that may have been surrounded by incipient towns. Agriculturalists in areas with good rainfall might well take much longer than those in drier areas to want larger household work forces. Not having to meet demands for work on irrigation systems, they would feel less need to shorten birth intervals by means like shortening lactation. Severer population pressures, together with the types of social consequences suggested for families and communities in early Mesopotamia, could, therefore, be much slower to appear. Eastward from Mesopotamia, east of the dry Iranian and Afghan plateaus (where pastoralists and irrigated-agriculture villagers developed patterns much like those of Mesopotamia and rainfall-short southern and eastern Mediterranean regions), agricultural villages also appeared very early in north India’s great river valleys. In the Indus valley at the west end of the north India plain, as in Mesopotamia, population growth brought changes from long-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 49 fallow to short-fallow and then to plow agriculture as shortened swidden cycles were followed by deforestation. Cities eventually came into being, some centuries later than in Mesopotamia and Egypt. These developments probably were accompanied in the Indus valley as in those two regions by tendencies toward patrilineality, some polygyny for those in higher levels of the society,

some limits on divorce, and enough desire to increase the work force by increasing births to lead to average family units of five to six, not four to five. Irrigation systems required more workers both in family units and in the communities made up of family units. In the Indus valley, as in Mesopotamia and Egypt at that early time, firstborns’ first marriages were apt to be arranged by

parents; others usually arranged those of laterborns. Where rainfall was greater—the Ganges valley east of the Indus, the hills south of the Ganges, and peninsular India south of those hills—neither irrigation networks nor incipient crowdedness nor cities began to appear until much later than along the Indus. Their early agricultural life probably resembled that of nearby Southeast Asia rather than that of early Mesopotamia. Today’s north Thailand in Southeast Asia may present the most convincing case for believing that an area’s rainfall affects societal development when its people turn to agriculture. Archaeologists have found that agriculture, domestication of animals, and bronze appeared in north Thailand approximately as early as in the regions from the Nile to the Indus. Pigs and chickens were first domesticated in Southeast Asia, but no herd animals, which may have been less prevalent in Southeast Asia’s hills than in Mesopotamia’s plains. Yet cities did not appear in Southeast Asia until 3,000 years later than in Mesopotamia. Bilaterality must have become extremely deeply ingrained in Southeast Asian life, for it survived strong later cultural influences from both China and India, and still distinguishes Southeast Asians from most of their neighbors to

the west in India and to the north in China. There also has been some matrilineality, ambilineality, and duolineality, but almost no patrilineality. It therefore seems worth emphasizing that when Europeans began to visit the region in some numbers in the 16th and 17th centuries A.D., they saw Southeast Asians as having fewer children per family than themselves. They also noted with horrified fascination that men in some islands incorporated a permanent ornament similar to an earring or a nose-pin in the generative organ, saying that it pleased women. In view of the probable fertility-reducing effects of

initiation-ceremony incisions on Australian Aborigine men, what really pleased women may have been that the ornament made it easier to maintain the long birth intervals also noted by Europeans. Europeans observed as well that wives and husbands in Southeast Asia usually refrained from intercourse until the wife ceased lactating a new infant, which helped to lengthen birth intervals. Because protein-short root crops formed much of the diet of many early Southeast Asian agricultural peoples, they may have retained forager patterns of long lactation to ensure healthy growth for toddlers as well as infants. Rice,

50 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT which became their major grain, also contains somewhat less protein than Europe’s major grains of wheat, rye, oats, and barley. People in Southeast Asia's river valleys turned to rice-growing so early that south China’s people almost surely learned rice cultivation from them, rather than teaching it to them. Given the importance of both root crops and rice, Southeast Asians may well have favored cultural patterns that reinforced long lactation even after adding pigs, chickens, and eggs to their diet. Eggs could have been used to shorten lactation, like animal milk where herd mammals were domesticated, but families seldom seem to have made that choice. Southeast Asia was heavily enough peopled by the 16th and 17th centuries A.D. to make wars between neighboring kingdoms common. Yet their goal was

apt to be large-scale removal of cultivators from losers’ lands to winners’ lands, suggesting that severe overall overpopulation was not a problem and that families could want long birth intervals to make it easier to flee invaders (Reid, XVII 1988). That might or might not have been true earlier. Still, longfallow agriculture persisted in the region’s hills even in the late 20th century. Because people continued moving family and possessions periodically, not having to carry a toddler as well as an infant might well have remained as de-

sirable to Southeast Asian swidden cultivators as to foragers. If so, then Southeast Asian societies may have long upheld a pattern of bilaterality, waiting until full maturity for a woman to marry (rather than finding a partner at or shortly after puberty), a rather small age difference between spouses, very little polygyny, only mild limits on divorce, and family units averaging four to five rather than five to six. Such a hypothesis would be reasonable even if early Southeast Asians also developed a pattern (visible in more recent centuries) of expecting each new married couple to live with one spouse’s parents, usu-

ally until the couple’s first child passed the toddler stage. Which spouse moved into the other’s parental home has depended mainly on current situa-

tions in both new spouses’ households. | Less crowding probably made epidemics less widely devastating in Southeast Asia, though still locally destructive. Most early Southeast Asian parents probably lived to see firstborns married, even if marriage came slightly later

than in other areas. That also may have been true in the early agricultural Ganges valley and south India, since nonpatrilineal patterns persist in south India even though a patrilineal overlay appeared some time after cities arose there. In all these regions, it must be remembered that cooperation between closely linked family units would have been very real. Another probable factor in the apparent delay of population pressures in Southeast Asia was the outlet for the venturesome of applying principles of navigation learned among the region’s islands to longer exploratory voyages. New settlers began to introduce agriculture to existing foragers in New Guinea by at least 5000 B.c. Root crops, prolonged lactation, and long birth intervals came to predominate in New Guinea and later in the islands to the east. Pigs also were raised, but usually were eaten only on ceremonial occasions.

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT D1 New Guineans and their descendants gradually spread eastward through the Pacific between about 2000 B.c. and A.D. 1000. Distances between islands

in the Pacific meant that competition between neighboring societies (which seems to encourage patrilineality) was only significant enough to lead to patrilineality becoming as common as bilaterality. One survey of 126 Pacific island societies found 34% patrilineal, another 34% bilateral, 22% matrilineal, and 10% duolineal (Goody, III 1973). Ambilineal societies, though present in the region, were not separated from bilateral ones in this survey. In New Guinea and Australia, competition was both prevalent and bloody. Polygyny (common in both, but not in the Pacific islands) probably was the primary mode of redressing resulting imbalances in adult sex ratios. (Female infanticide among 19th-century Australian Aborigines was practiced in the unusually stressful situation of having lost most of their lands to conquerors.) Among still-foraging Australians, polygyny took a gerontocratic patrilineal form, helping to limit numbers in a harsh environment. Among agricultural New Guineans, and to the degree that Pacific islanders of all kinship types also used it, polygyny was instead confined to a few local leaders, or “big men,” who welcomed as wives the sisters or daughters of followers and would-be followers who wanted closer links with them. Short-fallow or even long-fallow hoe agriculture remained the norm from New Guinea eastward, though plow agriculture began appearing in Southeast Asia as its first cities arose. Hoe agriculture would be compatible with continued comparative ease of divorce, though some patrilineal groups limited divorce more strongly. Dependence on root crops would make long lactation and long birth intervals safer than early weaning for healthy growth in young children. Long lactation and long birth intervals also would be safer than rapid numerical increase in obviously limited areas, like the Pacific islands or New Guinea’s cliff-enclosed river valleys. Except for polygynous leaders, family units throughout Southeast Asia and Oceania probably averaged four to five, as among the Gainj (Wood, XXI 1980). Most parents probably took part in arranging firstborns’ first marriage, but few probably saw laterborns wed too. As already noted, some Pacific islanders limited commoners’ offspring or expected laterborns not to marry, to keep numbers from rising enough for serious population pressure. Those coastal and island Southeast Asians who went on to New Guinea and the Pacific took root crops and swidden agriculture with them. Indonesians eventually took root crops to Madagascar off the coast of east Africa, too, but not until about A.D. 0. Inland Southeast Asians who mingled with those already living in south China took rice and techniques for raising it with them. The few coastal Southeast Asians who navigated northeast to Japan may or may not have brought root crops to the northeast Asians who were already there; but it was from Korea, much later, after 300 B.c., that rice cultivation came. Until then, there is little evidence that Japanese relied on more than foraging and fishing.

2 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT The spread of rice-growing made heavy population densities possible. Yet in hilly south China, as in most of Southeast Asia, only small local concentrations could develop at first. Generations of patient experiment had to modify dry-field rice into wet-field rice, multiplying its yield, before villagers had enouch surplus to support enough people to form larger complexes. As a result, East Asia’s first cities appeared in north China, where conditions resembled those of Mesopotamia and the Nile and Indus valleys more than in the south, As in regions farther west, so, too, in north China, a great river system

began in lightly wooded, lightly rain-fed uplands and coursed to the sea through a progressively less wooded landscape. By 5000 B.c., the upper drainage basin of the Yellow River held agricultural villages. In the next 3,000 or so years, millet, other dry-field crops (eventually including wheat), and rais-

ing pigs and domesticated egg-laying fowl for protein food (learned from Southeast Asians by way of south China) spread over the north China plain. Like Mesopotamians, north China villagers turned from long-fallow to shortfallow and eventually irrigated agriculture. Animal-drawn plows probably were used by the time the first cities appeared after 2000 B.C., since urban priests and rulers used ox bones for divination. Yet that use implies a sacred status, suggesting in turn that animal-drawn plows primarily were used on large fields cultivated for the powerful by the slaves they held. In the Yellow River basin’s fine-grained loess soil, hoes were enough for ordinary people’s smaller plots. The Yellow River basin’s population appears to have been already larger in 3000 B.c. than the populations of the Indus and Ganges basins put together, or the population of Mesopotamia, the Nile basin, and the areas between them put together (McEvedy and Jones, III] 1978). Most early north Chinese villagers’ livestock were fed by hand, not grazed. Pastoralists and agriculturalists did not intermingle as they did in Mesopotamia and similar areas from the Indus to the Atlantic. Pastoralism developed in the drier grasslands north of the Yellow River, rather than within the basin itself, and probably much later than agriculture. That difference between predominantly hand-fed animals and predominantly grazing animals may help to explain the Yellow River basin’s relatively rapid population growth. Handfeeding would be more labor-intensive than grazing, and something a rather young child could do. Moreover, most hand-fed animals would be too small to help work the land. Perhaps even more in the Yellow River basin than in the Indus, Mesopotamian, and Nile basins, a wish for more hands (as tasks multiplied with population growth, technological change, and leaders’ ever more insistent demands) led to shorter birth intervals and still more population pressure. By 500 B.c., self-generating population growth made the people of the Yellow River valley approximately as numerous as those of the Nile basin, Mesopotamia, and the basins of the Indus and the Ganges all put together (McEvedy and Jones, III 1978). North China’s family relationships in the age of its first cities and written re-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 53 cords were as uncompromisingly patrilineal as in Mesopotamia at that stage, probably from mounting population pressure. The presence of the root for “woman” in the written word for “surname” hints that very early Chinese might have been matrilineal, like many hoe agriculturalists around the world; but the first writings show a society marked by patrilineality, some polygyny for the powerful, some limits on divorce for men and almost no opportunity for women to obtain it, and encouragement of childbearing. At least one parent probably took part in arranging a firstborn’s first marriage, but that likelihood would have lessened for laterborns. These are all to be expected in a densely populated agricultural region with an entrenched sense of needing to compete for resources, where leaders’ demands for ever more goods and services (to continue spiral growth in both population and production) pressed increasingly on ordinary members of village family units. Even cooperation

between closely linked family units—undoubtedly real in China as elsewhere—may well have left ordinary people feeling that they had too much to

do. There is no way yet of knowing whether those ordinary family units reached an average of five to six, rather than four to five, before the first Chinese cities, but it seems unlikely. That shift seems to come with more survival to later ages, which everywhere appears with use of metals and the jump in productivity accompanying that use. Neither neighboring Korea nor Japan apparently experienced agricultural life until long after cities appeared in north China and began spreading southward into other agricultural areas across central China’s Yangzi River and down the south China coast. Early foraging and fishing peoples in Korea and Japan may have resembled other northeast Asians who crossed over to Alaska and spread through the Americas, once the glacial age ended. Many of those northeast Asians’ descendants still did not practice agriculture when Spaniards and Portuguese arrived around A.D. 1500. Others moved from gathering toward planting almost as early in Mexico as in Mesopotamia, not long after

7000 B.c. Still others moved toward agriculture along the narrow western coastal plain of northern South America by around 5000 B.c. It took even longer to move from incipient agriculture to city life in Mexico, Central Amer-

ica, and northwest South America than in Mesopotamia and the other great river valleys from the Nile to the Yellow River, perhaps in part because maize was hard to develop as a crop (Adams, III 1966). It seems to have taken about 5,000 years. We know little of changes from long-fallow to short-fallow aariculture, and in some areas to irrigation, after the first cult centers (probably the earliest urban centers in the Americas) were established. The plow only arrived with Europeans and their work animals. Maize (corn) and beans, which provide balanced protein when eaten together, clearly became the staple diet in Mexico and Central America. The potato, a root crop, came to be a staple

in northwest South America. The Americas’ earliest agricultural systems apparently used domesticated animals far less than those in the great river valleys from the Nile to the Yellow

54 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT River, which may help to explain pastoralism’s apparently slow development. Only a few records of much later city-led societies suggest what family systems were like in the early agricultural regions of the Americas. Yet because these later societies tended more toward bilaterality and duolineality than toward matrilineality or patrilineality, the bilaterality of forager ancestors may well

have continued through as many generations as in Southeast Asia. Agriculture appears to have spread north of the Rio Grande only after Mexico already had city life and the far-flung trade networks that accompany it. The limits of a corn-based diet or the perils of greater concentrations of population in terms of risk of epidemics (or both) are dramatically illustrated by differences in birth expectancy between 12th-century corn-growing Dickson Mounds people in Illinois and their descendants in the 13th century. Birth expectancy dropped from 33 to 24 years in just a few generations (Thornton, XXII 1987), or even to only 21 years (Storey, XXII 1985), primarily from

greater early mortality rather than from shorter life expectancy for those reaching adulthood. Foragers who were just beginning to grow corn in the 16th century in the lower Potomac basin also had a birth expectancy of only 21 (Thornton, XXII 1987), for malaria in the region more than counteracted the presence of shellfish to gather. Usually, as in the Aleutians and parts of the Alaska coast, shellfish availability guaranteed longer life—35 more years at age 15 for Aleuts on the strandflats to roughly 20 more years at age 15 for other Alaskan foragers (Yesner, XXII 1977). Even 21 years was longer than the birth expectancy of 18 to 19 years for foragers at Indian Knoll in Kentucky in about 3000 B.c. (Thornton, XXII 1987). Early agriculturalists at Tabor Hill

experienced peak age-specific death rates (after infancy) at 30 and 45 (Churcher and Kenyon, XXII 1960), Indian Knoll’s foragers at 4 and 34. Yet

for both populations, the average death age for those reaching 20 was just over 30. This displays neatly the probable major difference between early for-

agers’ experience, as density began pushing them toward cultivation, and early cultivators’ experience with the benefits that crop-raising provided before epidemics began. In both situations, at least one parent usually could help to arrange a firstborn’s first marriage, if it came early enough. Agriculturalist

parents were clearly likelier to be present to help arrange marriages for laterborns, and forager firstborns were clearly likelier not to have either parent see them wed. Relatively easy marital dissolution, long lactation, abstinence

from intercourse during lactation, long birth intervals, nonpredominance though not absence of patrilineality—these characteristics seemed novel enough to the first European observers to note all through North, Central, and South America after they arrived, yet may well have prevailed since early agricultural times. Family units may have averaged four to five rather than five to six, but European comments also suggest ongoing cooperation between family units in the Americas as in other regions. Not all cultivators in the Americas grew corn and beans, or potatoes. Some grew other root crops, in the tropical rainforests. After transoceanic traffic

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 55 began in earnest in the 16th century, some of these root crops, like cassava, were taken to root-crop regions in Africa. People in west Africa’s rainforest probably turned to agriculture somewhat later than people along rivers (much as in Southeast Asia), rather than agriculture first appearing in the rainforest and spreading from there. Agriculture probably reached the far upper Nile basin in Sudan and Ethiopia between 4000 and 3000 B.c. Early fishing peoples on the upper Niger also may have practiced it by around 3000 B.c. It was common by 1000 B.c. in most of west Africa. When the Bantu of today’s Nigeria learned iron-making through trade with Sudan’s iron-makers, after 500 B.C., they used this superior technology to spread south and east, absorbing or pushing aside others as they advanced. By about A.D. 500, Bantu were in today’s Kenya, Mozambique, Zambia, and southern Angola. They occupied the east half of today’s South Africa by the time Europeans first rounded the Cape of Good Hope in A.D. 1487. Iron helped them to use territorial expansion to maintain long-fallow agriculture in many regions until after European occupation. Still, some changed to short-fallow agriculture where local numbers grew too large for long-fallow techniques to continue to feed. Plow agriculture did not develop in most of Africa south of the Sahara until Europeans introduced

it. A swidden agricultural system that did not use the same fields year after year had little reason to develop plowing technology. Until the 20th century, swidden or hoe techniques continued to be used almost everywhere in agricultural areas west and north of central Nigeria, whether for root crops in the rainforest or field crops in the less rainy band to the north of it. Because different types of soils intermingle in tropical climates more than in temperate zones, preparing a large field for one crop (like cultivators in temperate zones) makes far less sense than growing what grows best in each differing patch of soil, at least until different fertilizers are easily avail-

able to make a set of differing patches into a more uniform field. Besides, a large one-crop field is more vulnerable to disease than a set of small patches of differing crops. Small patches limit the spread of diseases peculiar to particular crops, much as living in small, scattered settlements makes people less vulnerable to epidemics than living close together in large settlements. In tropical

Africa, where warmth (and often moistness too) favor pathogen appearance and growth, such considerations have been important for agricultural as well as residential choices. Pastoralists began moving west from the upper Nile valley after 3000 B.c., going south some time after 1000 B.c. Yet south of the Sahara, the transition to plow agriculture that took place where pastoralists and cultivators mingled in Mesopotamia, Egypt, and other dry areas from the Atlantic to the Indus only took place in the semitemperate zone between the upper Niger and the upper Nile. Pastoralists and cultivators often exchanged milk, meat, and hides for grain, vegetables, and opportunity to graze where grain had been harvested. In some places, as among Jie in today’s Uganda, pastoralists organized their own groupings of family units to combine herding with seasonal

56 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT gardening. Still, most agricultural villages lacked work animals, and quite a few even lacked small milk animals like goats, though egg-providing chickens eventually became fairly common. Thus long lactation would have been highly adaptive. Long lactation initially might have been retained from forager days to protect a toddler’s protein supply, and reinforced, as in Southeast Asia, by abstinence from intercourse to lengthen birth intervals. Environment and human physiological responses affected African family life in other ways. Development of the sickle-cell blood trait, which weakens malaria’s effect if inherited from one parent but threatens serious anemia if inherited from both, proved adaptive in malarial west Africa. Yet to risk having all one’s children inherit the

trait from oneself and their other parent would be dangerous. Circulation among partners would seem essential in such a population. A man would want more than one wife to ensure against that kind of outcome, and would be glad to have them simultaneously so that he might always have a nonlactating wife with whom to cohabit. A woman would want more than one husband during her reproductive years, not only because of the sickle-cell trait, but also because of the Rh factor. Early first marriage for herself and late first marriage for a man would enable her to begin childbearing in her own healthy youth and still expect an older first husband to die in time for her to bear children either as an additional wife to an older man or as a first wife to a relatively young man who inherited her from an older kinsman and would later take a younger wife or wives. Such spouse circulation became virtually universal in west Africa by the time Arab or European observers began recording what they saw of Africans’ lives. It also was widely present by then among Bantu in the center, east,

and south. Spouse circulation was possible in any kinship system. Patrilineal, duolineal, and bilateral systems could use widow inheritance. Matrilineal, bilateral, and duolineal systems could return a widow to her blood kin to arrange another marriage while she was still young enough to bear children. Any kinship system also could accommodate added spouse circulation through accepting divorce, or even letting a woman go to another man while her formal husband remained her children’s recognized father. If her formal husband had fathered no children, this provided him with helpers as he aged. Some societies enabled a childless woman to obtain children by becoming a female father, acquiring another’s services as a childbearing wife and assigning her to a genitor. This adaptive flexibility was required by tropical Africa’s high mortalities. Everyone had to have offspring or assigned supporters for later years, even if formal rather than natural parenting had to be used. True, an older man usually still had at least one wife, even if he lacked living children. Yet there was a limit to how long an older woman was useful enough as a worker to find a new husband, if she lacked living children. For women even more than for men, adaptive flexibility of parenting was a survival strateqy. The mixture of kinship systems found in Africa by Arabs and Europeans in

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 57 more recent centuries was already too deeply influenced by earlier trade links to be fully indicative of possible preferences among Africa’s first agriculturalists and pastoralists, although what Arabs and Europeans described as an overwhelming preponderance of polygynous systems (with mechanisms built in to provide also for a form of serial polyandry) is apt to have developed at an early time. Wife assignment, genitor assignment, the widespread practice of fostering young children out to kinsmen or kinswomen (with whom they could forge close ties, to supplement ties with their natural and/or formal parents) —any or all of these patterns also may go back extremely far. If the Bantu took such systems with them as they left Nigeria, those systems may have facilitated their successful occupation of central, eastern, and southern African foragers’ former homelands as much as the iron-making and agricultural skills usually credited with their success. The polygyny plus serial polyandry of African cultivators and herders south of the Sahara may even have been continued or adapted from earlier west African forager peoples who had already developed it to counteract the genetic roulette of the sickle-cell trait. Polygyny also might have been encouraged by low male-to-female birth ratios. The use of formal and foster parenting as well as natural parenting may have been carried over from forager life too, since foragers everywhere establish blood brotherhood and other forms of fictive

kinship that include treating each other’s parents, siblings, and children as one’s own. Given these fluidities in family relationships, it is easy to understand that family units of husband, wife, and their offspring (basic building blocks in most other agricultural and pastoral societies, and in forager societies) might be less central to Africans’ sense of family life than elsewhere. Few Africans used Hawaiian kinship terminology by the time European anthropologists came to study them. Yet the consanguineal family—with its sense that all those in the parents’ generation are in some sense parents, all those in the siblings’ generation are in some degree siblings, and all those in the children’s generation are in some sense children—has been far more adaptive for Africans than the conjugal family of parents and unwed offspring. Consanguineal-

family concepts also fit better than conjugal-family concepts into flexible spouse-circulation systems combining natural, formal, and foster parenting. At least in recent centuries, African cultivators have formed large family groups that resemble pastoralists’ bands of tent groups more than early aaricultural households elsewhere. In patrilineal, bilateral, or duolineal societies, these family groups have included husbands and co-wives and their descendants. In matrilineal societies, they have included sisters and brothers whose spouses visited them or were visited by them. High mortalities forced Africans to develop a larger sense of the core family

circle than only the natural parents and their offspring. Large family groups are helpful enough where mortality is high to be found in other high-mortality regions also. Large family groups also can help to maintain a favorable threeactives-to-two-dependents ratio for those on whom elites make heavy labor

58 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT demands. The permanent removal of family members as slaves, which began for Africans south of the Sahara as early as the first Egyptian expeditions up the Nile almost 5,000 years ago, is surely the heaviest labor demand of all. Af-

ricans in many areas eventually found that they had to adapt to it. Once cities appeared in the lower Nile valley, long-range trade inevitably began to affect early agricultural societies on the far upper Nile and the central Niger. It also affected later-formed agricultural societies and the pastoralists who gradually fanned out from the upper Nile after about 3000 B.c. These societies are treated more fully when urban commercial expansion’s impact is considered. Early preurban agriculturalists and pastoralists in the basins of the central Niger and the far upper Nile may well have used patterns like those of their counterparts in early preurban Mesopotamia and Egypt, being less affected by tropical conditions than those farther south. If so, they would have been largely bilateral, marrying off daughters somewhat earlier than sons, placing some restrictions on divorce, and mildly polygynous. They also would have been apt to live long enough (if they survived to marry) to see a firstborn married, but not to see all their laterborns wed, if most preurban agricultur-

alists who reached age 20 lived fewer than 20 more years (Acsadi and Nemeskeri, II 1970). In Africa south of the Sahara, as around the world, the most common death age for those reaching maturity probably was in the late 20s until the rise of agriculture, which raised the most common death age for those reaching maturity to the middle to late 30s. Early African cultivators might have been slightly more eager than early African herders for children to augment a family unit’s or a family group’s work force, but how that could have been reflected either in family units of five to six rather than four to five, or in the beginnings of larger consanguineal-family groups among cultivators, is unknowable. Pressures for more labor power are weaker among long-fallow cultivators than among short-fallow ones, at least until the last years before long-fallow yields to short-fallow agriculture because burning too often means that fire-resistant grasses replace trees and bushes. Many results of the deforestation and the stirring up of dust through cultivation that accompanied the rise of agriculture soon proved regrettable. Earlier hunting drives in which foragers killed off entire species also had had rearettable results, especially when fire was used in the drive. Some of these results are still felt today. Some social consequences of agricultural settlement, like epidemics, soon proved regrettable too. Yet the increase in average life span made possible by agriculture gave time to develop more understanding of the tangible and intangible conditions of human life. The era of regional city-led commercialization, which began when cities appeared around 3500 B.c. and lasted until the era of worldwide, city-led industrializing commercialization began around A.D. 1500, saw many efforts to improve and apply that understanding. Each of those efforts affected family life. The era of worldwide, city-led industrializing commercialization in which we ourselves live finally may see enough understanding of those tangible and in-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 59 tangible conditions to be able to reverse some of the effects of past environmental degradations. Societal achievement of a ratio of three actives to two dependents can lead to a societywide sense of personal security great enough to support informed programs of environmental restoration. That favorable ratio was what our ancestors sought, as they kept trying to escape high early and midlife mortality through increasing both their efforts and their numbers in their movement from forager to agricultural-pastoral and, finally, city-led life. The city-led eras of regional commercialization and worldwide industrializing commercialization are the focus of the remaining chapters.

oC Paart dT The Age of Regional Cities and Peasantry: 3500 B.C. to A.D. 1500

oC Chapter 3 General Considerations; Southwest Asia, North Africa, and Europe Looked at from the standpoint of who controls, the 5,000 years from about 3500 B.c. to about A.D. 1500 were the era of regional cities, which kept sufficient order within functioning collections of contiguous settlements to provide their inhabitants with some degree of security and which also managed those functioning collections’ relations with outsiders. An urban center might dominate an expanding region around itself (including other cities and their smaller regions), but no city ever dominated a region across an ocean from itself. The limits of a city’s power lay at about a month’s steady travel by ordinary means, or about two weeks’ rushed travel by the special messenger services developed

and used by rulers of large empires. That changed dramatically after A.D. 1492. Madrid, Lisbon, Amsterdam, London, and Paris became the first five world cities, urban centers of functioning collections of settlements with communication links stretching across the Atlantic to the Americas, along Africa’s entire western coast, and across the Indian Ocean to South and Southeast Asia. Moscow also became a world city by extending its rule across northern Asia. Travel times between outlying territories and their world-city center in such far-flung collections initially were

much longer than travel times to regional centers, but in the 19th century, steamships and railroads cut times to weeks instead of months. Cable telegraph then lowered communication times to a few minutes, less time than an early city-ruler needed to receive a warning from the city gate or send back a response. From then on, a world city no longer had to govern cities in other regions to be recognized as powerful, although empires continued for a century and more. London, Paris, and Amsterdam could remain (and Berlin, the Washington—New York—Boston corridor, the Tokyo-Osaka corridor, and even

Toronto could become) world cities through economic influence rather than

64 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT political control, though only in 1991 did Moscow have to recognize the independence of czarist conquests, whereas Rome became a world city through the papacy’s worldwide activity as much as through Italian economic growth. Looked at from the standpoint of the vast majority, those not in control, the 5,000 years from 3500 B.c. to A.D. 1500 were the age of peasantry. Peasants were cultivators who no longer controlled their own lives in their own villages. They were no longer led by fellow villagers whose demands they could unite to refuse. Instead, they were controlled by well-armed followers of leaders who lived elsewhere (usually city rulers, but mounted pastoralists at some times in

some areas and local lords in nearby fortified castles at other times in other areas). Peasants, therefore, had to provide those armed men’s masters with both goods and services. The age of peasantry also was the age of the command economy. Central cities’ rulers directed any large-scale capital investment. Most such investment was in roads, canals, and other public works, but some was in mines or large workshops. When world cities began replacing regional cities as the top headquarters of those who could require goods and services, governing authorities

increasingly replaced requiring goods and services with collecting taxes in money and then purchasing goods and hiring workers. Cultivators could then become farmers, not peasants, selling their products and at times their labor for money to use not only for paying taxes to rulers, but also for buying goods and services from others. Thus the age of peasantry began to fade after A.D. 1500, to be replaced in region after region of the world by an increasingly commercialized economy. It has not been an easy changeover. Earlier means of protecting ordinary individuals and families were dismantled before needs for new ways of providing the same protections were fully enough understood to bring efforts at replacement. Innumerable small-scale tragedies, and quite a few large ones, have resulted. Yet the changeover has left ordinary people better off than ever before, if well-being is measured in such basic ways as life expectancy at birth and at later ages. To the extent that money as a linking agent lets ordinary individuals and families choose how to obtain money to meet leaders’ exactions, commer-

cialization and taxation leave people far freer than in the age of peasantry. Then, requirements for specified amounts of labor, cloth, and grain from each household defined many aspects of people’s lives. A few societies have merely exchanged the exactions of government for those of great landholders like the latifundistas, who still control parts of Latin America; but elsewhere, commercialization and taxation have left ordinary individuals and families freer to order their own lives than ever before, since cities first appeared. To the extent that people depend on large impersonal corporate entities for income, they may think that they have less control over their lives than when all corporate entities (even governments) were small, as any factory worker whose plant has been closed down will attest. Yet to the extent that ordinary individuals and families seldom face anything remotely like the great epidemics of the age

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 65 of regional cities (which periodically killed 25% or more of affected populations as impersonally as machine guns fired by robots programed to shoot any moving target), they have more control. Governments began fighting epidemics early in the age of world cities. Governments today also must deal with nonnatural threats to health. Witness how the Bhopal tragedy in India in 1984 and Chernobyl in the Soviet Union in 1986 awoke all governments and peoples to the need to regulate chemical industry and nuclear power production with greater care. Yet ordinary people can only affect governments and other institutions and corporations by combining to pressure them to act. Where they can, they use the power of the ballot, the power so insistently demanded by eastern Europeans after Chernobyl that by 1990, they all had it, after decades of arbitrary rule and environmental disaster. Where recourse to the ballot may not be effective, they use the power of embarrassment through naming names in front of the largest audience they can find. Marshall McLuhan called the world the “global village,” now that television cameras have the potential to show us almost every corner of it. Much as village gossips limited the antisocial or oppressive by constantly parading their iniquities and inequities before other villagers, today’s television news reporters can help those with complaints to reach a larger audience. The audi-

ence can then decide who ought to be embarrassed: the ones making a complaint if it seems trivial or the ones complained about if it seems justified. The age of world cities also is becoming the age of the global village, thanks

to the almost instantaneous satellite transmissions developed since the first Soviet and American satellites were launched at the end of the 1950s. The city still holds the leaders, but the power of embarrassment, which television can give ordinary people with justified complaints, restores much of the power that villagers lost when leaders moved into cities. Marshall McLuhan’s phrase may hold more truth than even he realized. The printing press, which gave rel-

atively ordinary people some power of embarrassment in the 15th century, may even have affected European rulers’ quarantine programs. Once people outside Italy began learning of some Italian ports’ success in keeping out plague as the 14th century ended, by keeping out those with any sign of the disease, European rulers who failed to institute and enforce these effective new measures could be embarrassed. The plague’s continuance in Ottoman Turkey eventually embarrassed Ottoman rulers enough to make them use their European neighbors’ methods. The global village may well have come into being in 1841, the year of the Ottoman plague regulations. When those who negotiated with cosmic forces and human outsiders on behalf of villagers left the villages and moved to cities, the power relationship between villagers and those who made them peasants became a one-way street. Villages also lost almost all the full-time artisans who made weapons, textiles, and other finely crafted articles wanted by leaders, who took them along to the

new cities. It was a crucial change, which took place wherever cities were established—in Mesopotamia, Egypt, and elsewhere around the Mediterra-

66 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT nean and northward into Europe; eastward across Iran to India and beyond to China, Korea, Japan, and, eventually, Southeast Asia; south of the Sahara in the great basins of the Niger and the far upper Nile, and on both western and eastern coasts; and in Mexico, Central America, and northwest South America. The change was particularly crucial to how family members looked at their relations with one another, with other villagers, and with distant leaders whom villagers could no longer dislodge or even embarrass. Leader-follower relations only remained a two-way street between ordinary villagers and local patrons, whom they usually thought they needed to mediate between themselves and those distant demanding powerholders. Local patrons’ mediating position in turn depended on knowing a ruler or a ruler’s close associate. Peasant villagers had to give both goods and services without expecting much (if anything) in return beyond leaders’ mediations with nonvillagers and cosmic powers. It is almost a cliche for political scientists who study regions in which the age of peasantry has not yet fully ended to describe their politics as patronclient systems. Yet only after years of condemning such systems as merely personal (unresponsive to large issues that affected many individuals because individuals keep trying to deal with problems by seeking personal aid through a patron, rather than by joining other individuals in group action) did political scientists look at power relations closely enough to see that individual clients mattered to a patron. Without clients, a patron could not be a patron because no patron at a higher level would regard him—or occasionally her—as a sufficiently worthwhile client to patronize. Most clients who obtained too little aid from a patron could find another who would do more for them to build his own retinue of clients, gaining power both in and beyond the village at the deserted former patron’s expense. Peasants used their last remaining power— that of giving or withholding clientage—to deal with local patrons, who in turn let them know the limits set by those to whom they themselves were only clients. The head of the patron-client pyramidal structure was the ruler in the distant city, or the leader of the mounted pastoralists, or the lord in the nearby castle—the one whose armed retainers would come to collect cloth and grain levies, or seize those who refused labor duty, or simply take everyone and

everything in the village (“O foolish ones, to resist is to die!”). To try to move beyond being clients to a patron and act collectively (as the truly desperate sometimes did) usually was futile against rulers’ numerous well-armed men. Only if dissatisfied peasants could find disgruntled patrons at

an intermediate level in the pyramid, who would use villagers’ clientage to oust the ultimate patron at the head (as China’s villagers occasionally managed to do over the centuries), was collective action slightly more than just a self-destructive exercise. Even then, the same patron-client system persisted after some, many, or all of the former individual patrons were replaced. A peasant’s only real recourse was to leave the realm. That was not always possi-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 67 ble, but it was possible enough so that many rulers over the centuries punished

any attempt to leave without permission. ,

Pastoralists, less numerous but more mobile than peasants, were more fortunate. They could escape many exactions by staying outside rulers’ effective jurisdiction as much as possible. Once they became mounted, whether on horses (first tamed in the broad central Asian grasslands north of Iran) or on camels (first tamed in the Arabian desert), they even began on occasion to oust rulers from cities and take exactions from peasantry themselves, from the

edges of the Sahara to the northern borders of China and Korea. The earliest city rulers apparently did not try to have fully cultivated areas right up to the borders of neighboring rulers’ cultivated areas. Archaeological studies make clear that areas between early city-states went out of cultivation

into pasture, nomad’s land rather than no-man’s land. There, nomad pastoralists could graze their herds, furnishing villagers and city dwellers on both sides with milk and meat, wool, hair and hides, and pack-carrying animals. Nomads moved between realms as they themselves decided in accord with current local grazing conditions. Many peasants must have found nomad life attractive if village life became unbearable, as in 16th-century Arab Palestine during the Ottoman Turks’ campaigns against those who had ruled there since the last western Christian Crusaders were forced out in A.D. 1291

(Cohen and Lewis, XII] 1978). | Throughout the region from Morocco to Afghanistan, city rulers left nomads alone in the age of regional cities and peasantry. Rulers wanted pack donkeys and, eventually, horses and camels from nomads, to carry gear for the rulers (and their armies and retinues), goods extracted from peasants, and goods brought in and taken out overland by urban merchants. (Rulers always taxed and regulated merchants’ trade, both by land and by water.) Rulers also wanted not to see rivals in other cities gain an advantage by using promises of greater freedom to attract vitally important mobile nomad clients away from themselves. So essential were nomads to city rulers that a direct two-way street of power relations between city rulers and nomads continued to exist throughout the age of regional cities into the age of world cities, ending only when motor vehicles replaced animal transport. Yet toward their sedentary subjects, the direct two-way street between city rulers and their immediate clients became a one-way street for all the clients to whom the rulers’ own clients were patrons, on down to the wealthy local landholders or resident officials,

who usually were patrons for peasant clients. The one-way street of power relations between peasant villagers and urban rulers forced peasants to put risk aversion above all else. Once unforeseeable epidemic visitations began arriving from crowded cities, new burdens were

added to their rulers’ exactions of food, cloth, and labor duty. Rulers were eager to use their new powers of command to build ever-larger public works, temples, and tombs, or to acquire ever-larger domains. Peasants had to take into account both epidemics and rulers’ demands, from day to day and year to

68 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT year. Gradual desiccation from the Mediterranean to Mesopotamia and possibly on to the Indus between about 3000 and 2000 B.c., as the climate warmed and the growing population felled more trees and opened more fields, probably led to even more demands from urban elites as soil productivity declined. Deforestation and cultivation unfortunately meant that subsequent cooling from about 2000 to 1000 B.c. or later brought no noticeable reversal of desiccation in the region. Pressures for additional workers had already been felt in the neolithic era, when leaders still lived in villages. An earlier cooling trend before 3500 B.c. may have contributed to those pressures and to the rise of cit-

ies. Now those pressures were increased by fear of losing so many family members in epidemics that a family unit could not sustain itself and meet others’ demands on it. Consequently villagers would have wanted to maximize the number of children who reached a working age of 7 or 8. As villagers became peasants in both India and China, as well as in the realms from Mesopo-

tamia north through Anatolia and south to Egypt, they increased their numbers through more births. World population probably doubled twice in the 2,500 years from the first appearance of cities in Mesopotamia to 1000 B.c. (McEvedy and Jones, [II 1978). Still, if early villagers tried to use early weaning to reduce birth intervals much below 30 months, they probably realized fairly soon what the World Fertility Survey found in late 20th-century populations: Even two, let alone three, births in a space of six years or less before the next birth noticeably increases risks for that next one. Moreover, any birth spacing of less than two years dramatically increases risks for both the

new infant and the one born less than two years before. City dwellers also would find more children useful. At upper socioeconomic levels, sons to place in good positions and daughters to make marriage alliances with potential political allies or commercial associates would be helpful. At lower levels, children of both sexes would be helpful to maximize household earnings and enlarge support networks for hard times. Given nutrition’s role in resisting disease, the better-off were apt (like most villagers) to see more than half their infants mature, even in periods swept by epidemics; but the poor were apt to see more than half their infants die before maturity. Another, almost certain result of the rise of cities was the end of matrilineal family structure in most peasant villages. Those who came out from cities to take villagers for labor duty may have found it harder to identify a man and his sisters’ sons than a man and his own sons as the ones from whom to draw the labor expected of each responsible unit. In the small village huts of Mesopotamia or Egypt or most other city-ruled realms, sons may have been likelier to live with their own parents than with their mother’s brother. Family units themselves may have found it harder to present a cohesive front to urban agents if a man shared responsibilities to village leaders and to patrons with his nephews rather than with his own sons. It also may have been easier to bring together fathers and sons as work teams when needed for planting and harvesting, rather than uncles and nephews. Patrilineality or bilaterality (per-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 69 haps continuing from when foraging changed to agriculture in many localities), or even ambilineality or the more complex duolineality, could fit percep-

tions that father-sons units made more sense than uncle-nephews units. Matrilineality only continued in villages not yet controlled by a city or not yet feeling much population pressure. Among peasants, it only survived where the movement to city-led societies came so late that matrilineality was entrenched enough to resist the pressures that eliminated it elsewhere. It contin-

ued to have almost no appeal for nomad pastoralists. One important factor in human population growth was the greater longevity that accompanied the use of metal. The probable quadrupling of population from 3500 to 1000 B.c. may have taken place mainly before the cooling trend of 2000 B.c. onward, in the early to middle bronze age. However, if population growth spread more evenly over the entire period, then post-2000 B.c. population growth was probably aided by the gradual substitution of iron for

bronze in weapons and tools. Iron apparently was first used in Anatolia, spreading south to Africa and east throughout Asia as well as west to Europe.

Burial finds in Anatolia, Greece, Hungary, and Austria suggest that as bronze and copper came into use, those who reached ages 15 to 20 could expect 18 to 29 additional years, noticeably more than the 14 to 20 years of the neolithic era (Acsadi and Nemeskeri, II 1970). In Greece at around 2000 B.c., both royal and commoner men who reached 15 could expect about 21 more years, as could royal women, though commoner women expected only about

16 years (Angel, in Polgar, II 1975). Royal women even averaged a few months more than royal men. The introduction of iron increased life expectancy at 15 to 20, to 24 to 32 additional years (Acsadi and Nemeskeri, II 1970). Burial finds in Japan do not suggest such a visible change from the neolithic era to the era when both bronze and iron were introduced (Kobayashi, If 1967), perhaps because metal entered with conquerors who probably also brought new diseases. Clearly, changing from stone to bronze in western Eurasia could add enough years—at least for elites—to enable women to bear one

or two more without shortening birth intervals, whereas the change from bronze to iron made at least one more birth possible. Though parallel estimates for mainland Asia east of Iran are still lacking, the gradualness of transitions there from stone to bronze and then iron suggests that their experience

was more like western Eurasia’s than Japan’s. All the great valleys from the Nile to the Yellow River probably saw more births per woman as longevity increased and family units were pressured for ever more goods and labor. (Japan’s smaller river valleys may have seen that too, more than most of Southeast Asia.) Pressure for goods and labor came from both their own local patrons, whom they dared not refuse, and distant but powerful rulers, whose demands they also dared not refuse. Where work animals grazed, from north India westward, pressure for more workers per family unit may have been weaker than in the early Yellow River valley with only a few grazing work animals. By the time iron was common enough to be

70 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT used in everyday agricultural implements, north China’s people outnumbered those of the Indus and Ganges valleys. Bronze-age Chinese family units may

already have averaged nearer six than five, whereas family units from the Ganges to the Nile may have been nearer five than six. In all the great river valleys, increasing exactions would have strengthened

villagers’ patrilineal tendencies, probably already visible before cities appeared. In cities, patrilineal tendencies at all levels would have been strengthened by concern for clear inheritance lines to heirs who, as men, could stand up to other men’s challenges. Polygyny probably almost disappeared from villages, unless a village man had good enough connections to act as a patron for other villagers. Polygynous husbands probably also were not much more com-

mon in cities than in preurban villages. Still, the acquisition of numerous wives, concubines, and slave women by those who could obtain them probably meant that more women were polygynously mated than in preurban villages. Most of those polygynous wives, concubines, and slave women were in the households of the few men with real power. A concubine’s children would be

free but could only inherit if the father willed it. A slave woman’s children would be slaves also. Divorce probably remained more limited for women than

for men, much as in preurban times. Greater longevity enabled parents to live to help arrange more children’s marriages, strengthening parents’ control. Survival of increasing numbers to older ages probably also increased adults’ concern for firm control. Adults wanted to be sure that when they reached old age, their offspring would feel strongly obliged to take good care of them as their ability to contribute to household work declined. Insofar as aging parents lived with married adult offspring, greater longevity could have joined increasing numbers born per woman to enlarge the average number in each family unit household. A repre-

sentative family unit household could have become two grandparents, two parents, and two children, or one grandparent, two parents, and three children, rather than one grandparent, two parents, and two children, or two parents, three children, and no grandparent. Only a few households would have such forms at any one time, yet most actual family households would have one

of them at some time. More than two or three children would be born into most family households, but early mortality and females’ early change from daughter in household A to wife in household B would minimize how long a couple had more than a few unmarried children at home. Many spouses died early, even though epidemic mortality usually was lowest in the reproductive ages. A spouse's death cut short childbearing years, number born, and number of adults in the household. Wives died because of susceptibility to disease induced by overwork perhaps even more often than from hazards of childbearing. Husbands also died because of susceptibility induced by overwork. Where husbands were significantly older than wives, a woman was even likelier to be widowed while she could still bear children than where age difference was less.

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 71 There is a clear decrease in spousal age difference from the Mediterranean and Mesopotamia eastward to India and China, once their respective marriage systems come into view. If that gradation represents longstanding patterns, then it alone could help to explain faster increases in China than in India, faster increases in India than in Mesopotamia and Egypt, and faster increases in Europe north of the Alps and Pyrenees than in the Mediterranean realm, in the 2,000 to 2,500 years after about 3000 B.c. Spousal age difference in Mesopotamia and the Mediterranean (even in an almost monogamous system like that of Greece after 1000 B.c., where maintaining polygyny was not a major reason for spousal age difference) may have been the first significant effort at limiting births after the rise of cities. People in India’s and China’s great river valleys could keep increasing for a long time, for rainfall and irrigation supplemented each other, rather than crops depending wholly on irrigation. People in Mesopotamia and the Nile valley would have realized their

situations’ limits sooner. |

By the 7th century B.c., both Babylonia in lower Mesopotamia and Assyria in upper Mesopotamia displayed a spousal age difference of about 12 years (Roth, IV 1987). Because women married in the middle to late teens, they probably began their reproductive careers in their healthiest years, even if endemic disease risks were only partly as real as for more recent west African women. Because men married in the mid-20s to early 30s, relatively few lived to father more than four or five children, even though most women lived long enough to bear seven to nine. If women whose skeletons were found at a bronze-age Anatolian site bore children from age 15 to age 49, they would have borne an average of 7.38 each (Ammerman and others, in Zubrow, III 1976), or almost 60% more than the 4.7 actually born to women completing their childbearing years among both forager !Kung and nonincreasing, recently neolithic Gainj. Yet if those Anatolian women started bearing at 17 or 18 and stopped at about 33, because a husband 12 years older than themselves died at about 45, then about five births per woman would be the average. That is about the number of live births needed for social replacement in classical Rome (Hopkins, [V 1983), where newborns’ chances may have been somewhat worse than in 7th century B.c. Mesopotamia and almost surely were not better. These numbers do not include stillbirths and miscarriages. Yet most women would have at least one stillbirth or miscarriage if they bore as many as five live infants, according to data gathered in the 1970s by the World Fertility Survey for countries still scarcely emerging from the age of peasantry.

We cannot be sure when a pattern of early marriage for women and later marriage for men appeared in Mesopotamia; but as early as the 18th century B.c., the laws assumed that a man might make his own marriage arrangements (rather than someone making them for him), suggesting that at least some men were no longer youths when they wed. Though it often is suggested that a

large spousal age difference was meant to give husbands more control over wives, it could have been meant to limit a woman’s birthgiving. From that

72 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT viewpoint, powerful men’s large female entourages (whose members were for-

bidden to all other men unless their master bestowed them on his clients) begin to look more like medieval western European cloisters than like pleasure grounds. Members of such entourages usually bore few children, for the man controlling them would give most of them little attention. Such entourages kept significant numbers of women at low childbearing levels, provided livelihood for them, obtained some contributions in return (weaving and embroidery come to mind), and made large spousal age gaps possible without having to eliminate female offspring. Citizens of classical Athens and Rome probably eliminated unwanted female infants (through exposure to sale in the marketplace if not through actual infanticide), for they wanted no illegitimate

grandchildren from unmarried daughters, yet they wanted monogamy for clear inheritance and a spousal age gap of at least a decade for fewer births. To

the degree that large female entourages for the powerful plus large spousal age gaps succeeded in lessening births, these measures were creative and rela-

tively humane ways to avert overpopulation in the precontraceptive era. Netsilik Inuit, South American Ayoreo, and others who fought overpopulation with infanticide—whether it was general, specifically female (which would cut births for the next generation as well), or, among Ayoreo, often specifically male as new husbands in that easily divorcing society eliminated new wives’ male infants rather than raise other men’s sons (Bugos and McCarthy, in Hausfater and Hrdy, II] 1984)—-made very different choices. Societies in Mesopotamia, Anatolia, Egypt, and Iran (the great dry river basins and plateaus that later formed the bulk of the Islamic heartland) retained broadly similar family and household institutions from ancient to modern times. Polygyny remained more frequent for the wealthy and powerful than for ordinary people, but a large spousal age gap continued, facilitated by rulers’ large female entourages. Large spousal age gaps may already have been used to keep births near social replacement levels soon after 2000 B.c., for a dry homeland’s limitations required change by then. Limitations from aridity may have been increased by the tectonic shift that affected coastlines from the Persian Gulf to western India before 2000 B.c., weakening the first Indus valley civilization so that it could not resist invaders who began to trickle through the Afghan passes a few generations later. The Indus valley society also might have been weakened by overpopulation, if its people were slow to join Mesopotamians and Egyptians in moving to later marriage for men and more spousal age gap. Such a hypothesis reinforces suggestions that population rose fairly rapidly from 3000 to 2000 B.c. and then leveled off, and weakens suggestions of a steady population increase as iron replaced bronze, but only for regions from Iran westward, where large spousal age gaps probably existed by at least the 18th century B.C. What historians of European family patterns call the Mediterranean marriage pattern (late for men, early for women) probably spread fairly rapidly from Anatolia to Greece. Though Greece had more rain than Mesopotamia or

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 73 Anatolia, it also was a peninsula with island extensions and links to coastal Anatolia. World Fertility Survey observations suggest that peninsular and island peoples often are early in recognizing the need to limit births, living as they do in obviously limited areas. The same might be true in arid river basins that need irrigation for agriculture. The pattern of early marriage for women and late for men probably came to Greece after 2000 B.c., judging from data on births. From the early bronze age, around 3000 B.c., when bronze was scarcely known in Greece, to the middle bronze age, around 2000 B.c., when Indo-European groups were entering both Greece and the Indus valley, skeletal data suggest that average births per woman rose from about 4.0 (with only 1.9 surviving to adulthood, suggesting some type of population crisis) to about 5.1 (with 2.3 maturing). By the late bronze age, around 1500 B.c., average births per woman declined to 4.7 (still with 2.3 maturing). By the classical age after 1000 B.c., births averaged only 4.3, but new food supplies brought in by thriving trade meant that 2.7 reached adulthood (Angel, in Polgar, II 1975). As Hesiod and other classical Greek authors make abundantly clear, men were expected by then not to

marry until at least the mid-20s and to take wives at least 10 to 12 years younger than themselves. Unhappily for Athenian female infants, classical Athens’ citizens used neither polygyny nor large female entourages for the powerful to let all females born reach maturity. Athenian citizen families did not want to raise daughters for whom no husband could be found because too few men reached the usual marriage age. Except for the wealthiest, who could provide for more than one son, an Athenian citizen family wanted to keep its property intact by having only one son inherit, so that he could afford the leisure needed for full citizenship while slaves and women did the household’s work. Athenian citizens, therefore, rejected polygyny, which could result in more than one heir. Besides, a man with a large entourage of his fellow citizens’ daughters could influence his wives’ fathers or brothers to support his positions in the public debates by which citizens conducted Athens’ affairs, which would give him an unfair advantage. Even male infants might be exposed in Athens, if their fathers had enough

sons already to ensure an heir. Unless an infant was deformed, this usually meant exposure in a public area like the marketplace rather than exposure to a real threat of death. An exposed infant girl or boy probably would be taken by someone to raise—but seldom as a citizen and usually as the adopted child of a noncitizen or even as a slave. Female infants may or may not have been subject to actual infanticide. Mark Golden (IV 1981) calculates that Athenian citizens probably did not rear about 10% of their daughters, given spousal age difference; but the point was to take them out of the ranks of potential citizen wives, not necessarily to kill them. Exposure to a noncitizen’s or a slave’s life was not a welcome fate for a citizen’s infant of either sex, any more than life in a Mesopotamian, Egyptian, Anatolian, or Iranian ruler’s large female entou-

74 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT rage’s lower ranks, where most entourage members would be. Yet surely these

alternatives were better than strangulation at or shortly after birth. The pattern of exposure as preferable to infanticide that John Boswell (II 1989) has described for the first 1,800 years of the Christian era probably came out of familiar patterns in Hellenistic (Greek-influenced) cities where early Christians lived. Early Christian teachers praised celibacy, which could lessen exposure and infanticide by decreasing surplus births. This was a new way to try to cope with the ongoing reality that even if younger women married older men, they might still bear more children than either the parents or the socioeconomic system could provide for reasonably well. Golden’s figures are persuasive, but the assumption that infanticide was surplus infant girls’ probable fate is only an assumption. It is at least as reasonable to assume ex-

posure to being adopted by noncitizens or raised as slaves. For Athenian citizens, and perhaps for citizens in some other Greek citystates, the family system that evolved by the 5th century B.C. probably included patrilineality, monogamy, a large spousal age gap (but long enough life for fathers to see their daughters married and mothers to see their sons married), rights to inherit land and to divorce only for men, small family units of four to five with usually at least one slave (making the household unit five to six), and much more exposure of females than of males. The degree to which Athenians accepted intercourse between an older man (probably married) and a younger man (probably not yet married) as an aspect of a mentor-learner relationship between them could limit procreative marital intercourse. Sparta handled its citizens’ potential overpopulation problem by testing all infants for hardiness before letting them live, and screening adolescents of both sexes through a universal physical training program even harsher than the pubertal initiation rites that for many generations have screened out the weakest young women as well as young men in many areas of Africa. Because today’s young women who train strenuously for dance or athletics are likely to experience delayed menarche and irregular and anovulatory cycles, the severe physical training of both youths and maidens among Spartan citizens probably

also lessened birth rates. In effect, Sparta rationed intercourse as well, through extensive military exercises for men that separated spouses for long enough periods to lessen births. Moreover, because women in Sparta could inherit land, they could support themselves without a husband. Greater female than male infanticide was, therefore, probably not an issue. Nonetheless, the cool elimination at birth of those even mildly unfit and the harsh physical training of adolescents continue to make “Spartan” a somewhat fearsome term even now. There are far fewer records of family life among noncitizens, in Athens or elsewhere, than for the citizens who collectively formed the elites in classical Greek city-states. Adult men’s lives apparently shortened, as Greek hegemony developed in the eastern Mediterranean and then gave way to that of

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 75 Rome. Angel (in Polgar, II 1975) estimates 30 more years at age 15 for men in classical Greece’s formative years around 650 B.C.; more than 27 additional

years at age 15 for 300 B.c., when the successor states to Alexander’s huge empire were taking form; and just over 25 more years at 15 for A.D. 120, when

the Roman empire was at its full extent from Britain to Mesopotamia, or an overall decline in total life span of just under 10%. Adult women’s lives went from just over 21 more years to 21.5 more and then down to 19.6 more, decreasing around 5% from their 300 B.C. peak. Men’s greater percentage of decline may have come from the arrival of tuberculosis, still relatively new in Hippocrates’ time around 400 B.c., if it reached men in streets and marketplaces more often than it reached women in homes. Because females have greater disease resistance than males, this difference in total adult life spans may mean that women were likelier than men to be malnourished enough to be susceptible to disease, or to be cared for less attentively than men when they fell ill, or both. The burial finds also may be biased by not including representative numbers of young men, who could have died in Greek and Roman armies far from home. Judging from archaeological and documentary records, noncitizens’ family units in Greek city-states were probably much like those of citizens—spouses, their children, perhaps an aging parent—whereas more comfortable noncitizen households also might have one or two slaves. Slaves, by definition, had no family unit; yet if freed while young enough, they might be able to form their own family unit alongside family units of migrants from outside the citystate and family units of other freed slaves and their noncitizen offspring. Little can be said of noncitizens’ marriage patterns. Because slave women were seldom freed until they were well past their teens—even past their 20s—they could not have married at the early ages customary for citizens’ daughters. Still, a large spousal age gap seemed nearly universal around the Mediterranean, except possibly for the very low socioeconomic levels in which freed slave women in their 20s might be accepted as wives. Women married while still in their teens; men did not marry before their mid-20s at the earliest, where marriage ages can be found for later centuries through Roman imperial tax lists, census rolls, and tombstones. This pattern’s wide distribution sug-

gests that it had been used for a long time. A slave woman occasionally bore children to her master or to another slave. If the father was another slave, he probably was assigned the female slave as consort to breed as well as to reward faithful service, since a female slave’s child also was the master’s slave. The expense of raising slave children probably was greater than buying slaves of working age, however. Slave dealers who picked up exposed infants to raise could absorb high early mortality with a relatively large group of children more easily than individual masters with only a few. Such dealers were well known in classical Greece, and also in Rome, even before imperial times. The legend of Romulus and Remus, Rome’s princely founders who were suckled by a she-wolf and then reared by a shepherd after

76 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT being thrown into the Tiber River by a usurper and washing ashore downstream, reminds us that early Romans were accustomed to exposure. Rome’s patrician elite followed a pattern much like that of classical Athenian citizens for much the same reasons. Monogamous marriage came early for women, late for men, as patricians strove to protect their status by having no more than the five children needed to average a son and a daughter to survive the parents. In Rome, though, plebeian citizens—not patrician, yet ranking above noncitizens (migrants, freed people and their descendants, slaves) were the ones driven by increasing poverty to expose children in the marketplace. This worried would-be reformers in the late 2nd century B.C. They saw resulting depletion of citizen numbers as dangerous to the Roman state, since only citizens could be its soldiers. The solution eventually adopted (as the republic turned into an empire in the next 200 years) was to extend citi-

zen status and military eligibility to more and more of the conquered. The empire’s rulers did not seriously try to lift plebeians out of poverty by turning some of the land in patricians’ /atifundia (great estates) into smaller individual plebeian farmsteads, as the unsuccessful 2nd-century B.C. reformers tried to

do. Plebeians, therefore, continued to expose many of their children. Exposure eventually spread to Alexandria and other towns in Roman Eaypt,

where Greeks who began settling in Alexander’s time before 300 B.c. had been astounded to find that both Egyptians and Jewish merchants living in Egypt’s cities raised all the children born to them. For a while, expanding opportunity for a ruling elite eased concerns that Greeks at home in Greece still felt and responded to; but after A.D. O, as times became harder after Roman conquest, slave-dealers in Egypt became able to make a regular practice of raising exposed infants. (They had been doing so for at least several centuries in cities like Athens and Rome on the Mediterranean’s north shore.) Exposed infants in Egypt seem to have come from Greek-speaking households more than from the local population, suggesting that concerns for family limitation had been deeply enough embedded in Greek culture to survive several centuries of living among people who preferred mild levels of polygyny, and limiting

births through sizable spousal age gaps and large female entourages for the powerful, to exposing their own infants. Ex-posure, placing outside (the home), still carries a hint of danger to the exposed. Increasingly widespread poverty, as the great epidemics of the 2nd and 3rd centuries A.D. removed workers from both cities and villages, evidently led to yet more exposures. Concern to preserve family property also seems to have led some of Egypt's propertied descendants of Greeks (already accustomed to using uncle-niece marriages for that purpose) to join some of the local propertied population in keeping family holdings united by marrying a couple’s son and daughter to each other (Hopkins, IV 1980). Patricians in Rome doubtless wished to avoid potential embarrassment from finding that someone raised humbly could prove patrician ancestry (a theme common in classical Roman theatrical comedy). To avert having too

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 77 many offspring survive, they turned to strategies other than exposure, even though they then risked having no surviving son. They ceased to use the usual early Roman form of marriage, which formally transferred a daughter from her own family to that of her husband. Instead, they kept her in her father’s family and treated her husband as an honored consort. Her sons and daughters would belong to her husband’s family, but her sons also could be recognized as her father’s heirs if he lacked sons. Patricians increasingly used adoption to ensure that in their own last years, they would have a male heir who felt obliged to care for them in return for what he was to receive. Uncles adopted nephews—brothers’ sons, sisters’ sons, or sons of a wife’s brothers or sisters. Older cousins adopted younger ones. Nonkin adopted nonkin— sometimes even a well-liked slave, freed to become his master’s heir. That offered a real inducement for faithful service, to a male slave, or even a female

one who might hope a son born to her and her master would be thus fortunate. Patricians also developed testamentary bequests, substituting donors’ free choice of heirs for earlier firm rules governing disposition of estates. This device enabled an heirless but sufficiently well off person (man or woman) to at-

tract both kin and nonkin supporters in return for an anticipated bequest. Initially, legalizing testamentary bequests probably was meant to encourage bequests to the imperial city’s government—for example, to help pay for the free grain to which all citizens were entitled, as part of Rome’s response to the problem of poverty-stricken plebeians after the 2nd-century B.C. reformers’ land redistribution plans were frustrated. Yet, as classical Roman comedy attests, legal provisions for testamentary bequests enabled wealthy men and women to bring several anticipating heirs into competition for their favor, as each strove to garner the largest possible bequest. Ease of divorce also figured in patricians’ strategies, as did legal concubinage (consensual union, living together by mutual consent). The family, not the state, registered and dissolved marriages, though the state had to be notified if a formal marriage was formally dissolved. Because concubinage involved no formal registration in the family’s records, there was no need to notify the state if the partners separated. Wealthy men either did not marry formally or left their formally wedded wives, rather than have too many legal children to divide their estates. They might take slaves as consorts (whose offspring would be slaves); or they might take concubines, whose offspring could only inherit from their fathers if explicitly recognized as heirs. Wealthy women and their fathers and brothers—who remained their guardians under Roman law when they had no formal husband under either full-transfer or honoredconsort forms—sometimes even accepted concubinage with a man of proper status. A son who was only sure of inheriting from his mother might be more faithful to her and her brothers (and her father, if still living) than a son who was automatically his father’s heir unless his father specifically disinherited him.

78 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT With all these strategies available, few patrician men wed early. Patrician women’s fathers and brothers still married them early, perhaps at least partly because early childbearing seemed better than waiting while health deteriorated. Yet once a first marriage was ended by divorce or widowhood (apt to come early, since men married late), patrician women became increasingly likely not to remarry formally. If they did remarry, they were apt to seek to abort any pregnancies, unless their new husbands specifically wanted children to be born. Whether Roman women had plant-based abortifacients as effective as the creeper vine used now by Bangladesh women (Abernethy, II 1979) or the mixture used now by Jivaro women in South America (Berlin, in Newman,

II] 1985) is not known, but classical Roman writers’ complaints about abortifacients certainly suggest the possibility. Clearly, Jews in 12th-century A.D. central Germany used cervical sponges for contraception (Stow, V 1987). Both Jews and others in 4th-century B.c. Egypt may already have used cervical sponges so as to have few enough children to be willing to raise them all. Romans and others around the Mediterranean may well have learned their use, if they were being used, for sponges were long familiar to Mediterranean peoples. Life expectancies and early mortality risks surely also played a part in Roman patrician calculations. Elite men in the capital city probably only expected about 30 years at birth, and perhaps 30 more years if they reached 20. Women could expect less. Even among those at the top of the socioeconomic pyramid, probably at least one in four would not survive the first year even if not exposed or killed (Hopkins, [V 1983). Both men and women might live a bit longer in the provinces, where infant mortality also might be a bit lower. Yet the elite preferred life in Rome, where the basis of their status and power lay,

to life on the latifundia or estates that provided their income. (These usually were worked by slaves, though the natural scientist Pliny suggested in the Ist century A.D. that it was better to hire locally born workers in a malarial area like much of Italy. He observed that local people were less apt to become severely ill with this disease that came out of the air—malaria, bad air—than people new to the district, like most slaves.) Without the immediate access to governmental powerholders supplied by residence in Rome, income alone would not ensure their future. Emperors were made and unmade at Rome. New emperors looked for people whose wealth could be confiscated (since the costs of gaining power were great), on the ground of accusations that only

a person on the spot could scent in time to disprove. The Roman elite man who waited until 30 or more to marry was not apt to have time to father more than the five needed on the average for two to survive, since divorce was used freely. Hopkins estimates that average patrician men became fathers at 40 (the average of the ages at which men’s children were born), and that four, not five, was an elite Roman man’s probable maximum average number in the imperial era. Patrician Romans did not replace themselves. That did not need to be serious for the Roman state, as long as it

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT — 79 could keep expanding its military pool by extending citizenship to more of its own residents; but when the limits of that pool were reached by including all nonslaves as citizens in the 3rd century A.D., the eventual breakup of the Roman empire and the entrance of new peoples to live within its borders were virtually assured. By the time all nonslaves became citizens, neither patricians nor plebeians nor even a great many newer Roman citizens were replacing themselves. The inroads of new diseases were the primary cause, not the small patrician group’s marital habits, despite attacks on those habits by both emperors and Christians. Though far more is known of patricians’ lives than of others’ lives in Rome’s broad domains, gravestone inscriptions clearly indicate a descending pattern of life expectancy. Patricians and their families lived longest, followed by people with fairly lucrative professions like law or medicine or long-distance trade and their families. Wealth mattered. Next came small shopkeepers and artisans and their families, and then those who had been freed by their masters. Slaves’ lives were shortest of all. Below the level of the wealthy, birth expectancy for other Romans in the imperial city probably was not much over 20 (Hopkins, IV 1983), implying that about one in three of their infants did not survive the first year, that those who reached 20 did well to live another 25 years, and that malnutrition combined with epidemics of new diseases to kill more among the poor and near-poor than among the better-fed. Smallpox and measles together, both relative newcomers to Rome, killed up to one in four in parts of Rome and in other areas as well, first in A.D. 165-80 and again in A.D. 251-66. The better-fed had their own health problems, from the lead lining of their wine storage vessels. They could afford to drink more wine than

others, but that meant more lead poisoning. Still, the poor suffered most when waves of epidemic disease swept through the cities and out to the nearest rural areas. Those waves subsided only when they reached relatively unin-

habited regions, and were always ready to roll forth once again after a significant proportion of the current population was no longer protected by survivors’ immunities. Burial inscriptions indicate that in the early centuries A.D., half of pagan women were married by age 15 and half of Christian women by age 17; half were wed later. Burial inscriptions also indicate that only half of pagan men were married by 24 and only half of Christian men by 26. This strongly suggests that women below elite level in the Roman empire seldom had as much as 15 years to bear children. With miscarriages and stillbirths, as well as divorces (or simple partings from consensual unions), there probably were not many more than four live births per woman (Russell, V 1985). That was too few to replace the epidemic losses that climaxed with the great new plague that rolled across the empire, entering from the east in A.D. 542 after a new climatic cooling that began by A.D. 500 and may have worsened nutrition by making it harder to raise crops. The new plague effectively ended any hope that the empire’s more populated eastern half would again unite the less pop-

80 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ulated western half to itself. Manpower simply was not available to bring the new occupiers of the western regions under control. The empire was depopulated. Because smallpox lessens the fecundity of men who recover from it (Jannetta, XIX 1987), the smallpox epidemics of the 2nd and 3rd centuries A.D. may have decreased population in more than one way. Effective control of smallpox, first by inoculation and then by vaccination, also may have contributed doubly to rises in population increase rates around the world in the 18th

and 19th centuries. The institution of slavery played a strong part in depopulating the Roman empire. Habits of neglect of female health at lower socioeconomic levels prob-

ably explain the high female death rates that kept slaves, in particular, at a ratio of about 150 men per 100 women. Men slaves were valued because they tilled the fields. Women slaves contributed little to production beyond spinning and weaving, so little was done to help them if they fell ill. Thus even if a man were manumitted, he could find it hard to obtain a manumitted wife. Few except other freed slaves would be apt to accept him as a son-in-law, unless he had been elevated to his master’s level as an adopted heir. Slave women might occasionally bear children while still slaves, as in classical Greece; but the common Roman practice of giving one female slave’s newborn to another female slave with a newborn to nurse with her own, so the first could be put back to work, surely did not aid slave infant survival. Slaves could not legally marry,

and slave status did not encourage fertility. Well might Tacitus warn, even before the 2nd-century A.D. epidemics, that the empire’s northern Germanic neighbors appeared likely soon to outnumber Rome’s defenders. Tacitus believed that Germans’ earlier marriage for men and slightly later marriage for women aided fecundity. In an empire in which as many as | in 12 girls were married and the marriages consummated before they turned 12 (Hopkins, IV 1965), there was some reason for that belief. Beyond what Tacitus said, little is known of early Germanic family life. Yet it

may be important to understanding the European future, once Germanic peoples came to dominate much of Europe, to realize that those early Germans

also resembled Spartans, their distant Indo-European cousins, in testing newborns’ viability. Germans did not use infanticide, but they did dip every newborn into a cold running stream to cleanse it. Only fairly hardy infants

would come through that kind of ordeal unharmed, particularly in cold months. The Spaniards found a similar practice in Peru in the 16th century A.D. The Temne of Sierra Leone bathe infants regularly in cold running water (McKee, in McKee, II] 1984). These practices may be healthful in premodern sanitary conditions, but they probably also raise infant mortality by weakening

some who undergo them. Even though Germanic peoples’ homelands north of the Alps and Pyrenees were comparatively uncrowded, population buildup since their ancestors ar-

rived (as the cooling trend of about 2000 B.c. onward began) probably

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 81 brought concern about feeding themselves. Desire for cropland drew them into the emptying provinces of the western and even parts of the eastern Roman empire from the 2nd century A.D. onward. Similarly, population increase and/or desiccation in the era of climatic warming before 2000 B.c. had sent Indo-Europeans from the great grasslands north of Iran and Anatolia toward all parts of Europe, into Iran and Anatolia, and into the Indus valley and, eventually, most of India. If Tacitus is accurate, concern about numbers also may have drawn Germanic peoples toward raising women’s marriage ages above puberty and seeking ways to ensure that only the fittest infants would live. The antecedents of late marriage for women (the western European pattern that developed throughout those formerly Roman-held regions where Germanic elements came to outweigh Mediterranean elements, as well as in the northern realms from which Germanic peoples moved into the empire) may be far more remote than the late medieval era in which those beginnings usually are sought. When the Indo-European ancestors of Germanic peoples, classical Greeks, and imperial Romans entered Europe, its rain-fed agriculture probably already fed about as many people as the irrigated agriculture of Mesopotamia, Eaypt, Anatolia, and Iran fed at that time (McEvedy and Jones, III 1978). As the newcomers blended with their predecessors (or forced them into remote fastnesses, like the Basques of the Pyrenees), their numbers fully kept pace with those in the drier regions southeast of them. At least half of Europe’s people were crowded into Italy, Greece, and the Mediterranean shores of

France and Spain, as the iron age began around 1000 B.c. By 400 BC., Greece and its colonies, from the Black Sea to southern France, held roughly as many people as either Mesopotamia or Egypt, which helps to explain how the Greek conqueror Alexander could establish a great multiregional empire from the Nile to the Indus a few decades later. So many Greeks then left for newly conquered lands that Greece’s population fell by about a third, setting the stage for Rome to unite Italy and take over the area from southern and central Britain, Iberia (Spain and Portugal), and Morocco in the west to upper

Mesopotamia in the east. At the Roman empire’s height, before the 2ndcentury A.D. epidemics, it held more than 75% of Europe’s people. More than 60% of the entire empire’s people were in Europe, to less than 20% each in North Africa and Southwest Asia. The epidemics that culminated in the 6thcentury plague lowered Europe’s total numbers below what Roman Europe alone had held in the 2nd century A.D., but most of that drop came within the formal imperial boundaries. Without Germanic newcomers to take up lands vacated by death, southern Europe would have become even more depopulated. By A.D. 600, Europe had fewer people than in 400 B.c. Moreover, they

were overwhelmingly Germanic, except along the southern and eastern edges. No longer were Europeans almost as numerous as Indians or Chinese, as they probably had been in 3000 B.C. before Indo-Europeans left central Asia or the expansion of city-led life really got under way. Nor would they ever be

82 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT again, though as late as 400 B.c., Europeans may still have numbered almost as many as those in the Ganges valley within India or the Yellow River valley within China. Why did those early Europeans—the first incipient agriculturalists and the waves of Indo-Europeans who joined them, with the great last wave of Slavic peoples being blocked by their Germanic predecessors from going beyond eastern Europe—not expand in numbers like Chinese and Indians, if rain-fed agriculture raised their numbers to levels like those in the first centers of cityled societies? To ask the question may be in part to answer it. Rainfall meant that they faced fewer pressures to procreate than apparently accompanied the rise of city-led states in dry irrigation-needing areas. To the degree that rainfed agriculture helped to delay the rise of cities north of the Alps almost as long as it delayed their rise in Southeast Asia, northern and central European cultivators had time to develop patterns that could keep numbers from growing beyond their agricultural technology’s limits. For example, their women married somewhat after puberty, and spousal age difference was rather small, as in Southeast Asia. Northern Europeans also improved their agricultural technology by adding iron tools, midway between Indo-Europeans’ arrival and the 2nd-century A.D. epidemics that opened Roman lands to them. Some pressures may already have been felt a few generations before Tacitus wrote, as early iron-age longhouses gave way to smaller houses, each only large enough for a simple family unit. The vanished longhouses may have been like those of the bilateral Iban of Kalimantan/Borneo, incorporating several kin-linked family units in an almost ambilineal system in which new couples live with parents or grandparents of one spouse, according to availability of room to reside and land to cultivate. If the change was meant to decrease crowding and increase comfort, desire to maintain it could well spur birth limitation; but the change also might have been a first turn away from full bilateral community, foreshadowing the patrilineality of many (though not all) Germanic peoples when they entered depopulated Roman lands. The change further suggests that a tendency toward nuclear rather than extended families (augmented at most by a spouse's aging parents) may go back extremely far in European life. [t would be risky to assume that patrilineality guarantees that its users are feeling population pressure, for external pressure promotes patrilineality too. Germanic peoples had felt pressure from Rome for several centuries before they began streaming southward. Still, the strong patrilineal clans of many Germanic peoples as they entered Roman territory suggest that population pressure may have been real, much as the patrilineality of 5th-century B.c. classical Greeks and their contemporaries in early republican Rome fits well with Greece and Italy having been Europe’s most densely peopled lands since at least the beginning of the iron age. Any type of lineality—patri, matri, duo,

or ambi—suggests that bilaterality has not restricted claims to resources enough to avert quarrels over who is allowed to use what. Moreover, Germanic peoples were short enough of women to make abducting a woman a

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 83 serious crime. This probably came from selective neglect of younger females, more than from infanticide, though some early Germanic saints are recorded as having narrowly escaped that fate. Selective neglect could have been unconsciously used to lessen the number reaching reproductive age, paralleling

Greek and Roman use of exposure to keep citizen numbers from rising. A mixture of patrilineality and bilaterality; somewhat limited rather than fairly easy divorce; a recognition of the widow as executor of her husband’s responsibilities (which paralleled the 3rd-century A.D. Roman recognition of a woman whose marriage had ended as a full legal person, no longer a ward of

father, brother, or husband)—these patterns among Germanic newcomers markedly resembled those of late imperial Romans. Therefore, Christian teaching, which had found attractive enough responses to Roman needs to draw increasing numbers, could reach the newcomers. Church rules against divorce strengthened the sense of marriage as partnership that was inherent in making a widow her husband’s executor. Works of charity (provided for by large and small donations) aided those bereft by the great epidemics, and enabled clan-minded Germanic peoples eventually to stop regarding kin ties as their only reliable security. Church use of scriptural interpretation and moral

exhortation weakened lords’ control and protected commoners’ positions enough to make clan support less needed. Church condemnation of closecousin marriage, though it opposed patrilineal clans’ use of such marriages to tighten patrilineal bonds, appealed to a strong sense of the value of wider alliance networks. Wider networks were especially valued among bilateral Germanic groups, in which one expected to rely on and give aid to one’s kindred (those related to one on both parents’ sides) rather than one’s clan (those with

a known common ancestor many generations past). Church encouragement of celibacy appealed to existing recognition that unrestrained procreation was imprudent. So did church encouragement of limiting marital intercourse to times when children were actually wanted (bolstered by days and seasons of fasting like Lent, when abstinence was enjoined

as duty). So did the preaching that parents had a duty to ensure their children’s upbringing and placement, in opposition to exposure. The church’s horrified condemnation of infanticide, its opening of foundling hospitals beGinning in A.D. 787 in Milan to substitute for both infanticide and exposure ina public place, and its acceptance of offerings of infants to be raised in monastic institutions (either as lifelong servants or as eventual members) all responded

to impoverished parents’ inability to care for every infant they might have. That was important in an era of declining population, declining economic opportunity, and even declining temperatures (with consequent problems for agriculture) until about A.D. 700. Adoption could have been used, since there were childless couples as well as those with more than they could feed. Early Christians, however, rejected adoption as fervently as exposure and infanticide, to prevent non-Christian kin from adopting Christian parents’ children if the parents died. If young Christian men and women married about two years

84 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT later than their pagan or non-Christian neighbors within the empire, Christian women probably bore about one less child than non-Christians. Although the pattern of marrying women early and men later continued in the Mediterranean realm to early modern times, the thought that marriage for women could be delayed somewhat was apparently accepted, to be built on later in more favorable times. After the great 6th-century A.D. plague, Europe probably only recovered its 2nd-century A.D. numbers as the 10th century ended. More of that growth came in rain-fed areas north of the Alps and Pyrenees than in the previously more heavily peopled, drier Mediterranean regions, or even in rain-fed Slavic

areas to the east. Europe’s population recovery came partly from gradual acceptance (under church prodding) of marriage as a right of slaves, not only of the free. Marriage became almost universal for all who worked the land, except for mem-

bers of monastic institutions. As Germanic and Mediterranean peoples mingled and slave-worked latifundia became serf-worked manors, enterprising

slaves used changing situations to marry nonslaves and change either their own or their children’s status. Serfs were tied to a manor, and had to give services (like tilling the lord’s fields) and goods they produced; but they were provided with fields and gardens, not fed by their master. The serf-manor system rapidly spread northward. It worked well where cities did not exist or were a

Roman import that died out as Roman power disintegrated, leaving local order to be kept by a local strong man who built his own castle and used a manor to provide for its garrison. An area’s strongest local leader might have several castles and manors, if he could find trustworthy kinsmen or followers

to manage each when he was not staying in it himself. Europe’s population recovery became easier with the slowing of invasions from the north (Vikings), east (a long line of central Asian peoples from Huns to Magyars), and south (Muslims). Castle-builders fought all these invasions,

which peaked in about the 8th century A.D. (just after the northern hemisphere’s cooling trend finally ended) and then gradually subsided. A wave of pioneering attacks on northern European forests—often mounted by abbots and bishops seeking ways to feed their growing Christian flocks—also aided population recovery by opening new croplands. With new technology like watermills to grind grain, more efficient harnesses for work animals, and heavier plows, as well as new fields, survivorship increased. Even in unfavorable conditions around Westerhus in Sweden, where tuberculosis probably shortened life spans, both men and women who reached age 15 in the 12th and 13th centuries A.D. could expect about 21 more years for men and at least 23 more for women (Hogberg and others, V 1987). In another Swedish cemetery, at Helgeansholmen in 1300-51, men who reached 15 could anticipate

another 30.5 years, whereas women expected almost 27 more years. Life spans for both sexes were longer than at Westerhus. Men at Helgeansholmen lived even longer than women. Men and women at Westerhus were roughly

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 85 comparable to royalty in Greece around 2000 B.c., both in length of life and in women’s slightly greater longevity—unusual, in the age of regional cities and peasantry. Greater longevity for women, where present, almost surely reflects

more dietary iron, since women of reproductive age need large amounts of iron to avoid anemia (Bullough and Campbell, V 1980). Increased survivorship for both women and men may have helped to make later marriage for women (as well as men) seem workable, for limiting births to numbers that could be absorbed by continued extension of cultivated land and continued technological improvement. Here and there, women as well as men may have wed in their middle to late 20s, like tenants of the abbey of St. Victor of Marseilles in the early 9th century (Herlihy, V 1985). Still, it probably took several

more centuries for that to become common across northern Europe, and much longer to replace the pattern of young brides and mature grooms in Italy, Portugal, Spain, and, eventually, Greece. A few lists of rents, payments in kind, and services due from properties attached to abbeys or administered by bishops give glimpses into western Europe in A.D. 800-1100, when attacks on its forests were at their height. These lists suggest that young unmarried women and some older widowed women in a manor’s village or villages were apt to enter a weaving hall at the manor’s headquarters (abbey, manor house, or castle), rather than younger women staying with parents or older women with adult children. Those in the prime of

life presumably had enough to do, and might not be able to provide for an aging parent even if she or he could tend their youngest offspring while they worked. Court records show numerous cases of infants and toddlers left alone, and dying from accidental causes as a sad result (Hanawalt, V 1986). One wonders where grandmothers were (probably often still living, given life expectancies), until one remembers manor weaving halls that guaranteed older women employment, food, clothing, and a sleeping place. Weaving halls also

used younger women’s energies profitably from the time they matured enough to leave their parents’ homes safely (sparing their parents the need to feed and clothe them) until they married and entered homes of their own. A lord who could sell woolen and linen cloth woven by his manor’s single and widowed women to the few passing merchants of the time had his own reasons to delay young women’s marriages. As trade grew, once the era of inva-

sions ended and relatively peaceful conditions returned, it is reasonable, though unprovable, to expect many lords to push for women to marry later. A manor weaving hall hypothesis also would help to explain why later marriage for women did not spread among Slavs, except for eastern Baltic peoples enserfed by Teutonic Knights in the 13th century. Germanic-ruled Baltic, central, and northwest Europe were linked with one another and the Mediterranean world by growing trade. Slavic-ruled areas traded less, and mainly with Anatolia and areas beyond it to the south and east. Thus Slavic lords would

have found weaving halls less profitable. Anatolia and the regions beyond could obtain cotton and silk from India and China, and had local pastoralists

86 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT to provide wool. Slavic estate lords kept family members together in the largest groups possible (perhaps to make recordkeeping simpler), rather than in effect encouraging smaller family units through institutions like weaving halls. In their domains, early marriage for both sexes became the norm, in large, joint extended families like those idealized in India and China. Slavic households brought together father and mother, married sons and their wives, married grandsons and their wives, and any unwed offspring at all generational levels, with older generations providing guidance and help for new parents in their teens. Overlords in northern Italy and southern France also encouraged father and sons to stay together, even encouraging sons to remain together after a father died, in a pattern that was common until at least the 16th century. Rather clearly, those overlords wanted fewer family units to manage.

Not so on forest frontiers in the north and west. While younger single women and older widows worked in weaving halls, younger men were apt to

be at a forest edge, clearing new fields under the guidance of experienced older men (some with wives at home, others already widowed). The records of two manors administered by a bishop in early-9th-century Bavaria in southern

Germany strongly suggest such a pattern (Hammer, in Wall, V 1983). The most common household size in the manor hamlets was four (often the parents and two young children). There also were larger and smaller households, including situations in which an adult had been assigned as an apparently needed assistant in that household, much as a set of census returns from Roman Egypt between A.D. 19-20 and A.D. 257-58 shows that households with

too few adult family members were most apt to have a slave (Hopkins, V 1980). Other German 9th-century manors show much larger households, with nine or even ten as the most common household size. Their lords may have been encouraging father and sons to stay together, as in southern France, northern Italy, or eastern European lands. Such large households ceased to be the norm by the 10th and 11th centuries, when five was the maximum most common household size for German manors. These data fit a hypothesis that lords in Germanic-ruled Europe encouraged later marriage for women to keep them in profitable weaving halls. Lords also may have wanted to manage serfs’ lives so that couples would have the fewest possible dependents in the household, freeing them to work on both their own and a lord’s lands. Such management could strongly contribute to a pattern of waiting to marry until a holding was available and then setting up a new household, rather than beginning married life early in a parent’s home, as in India, China, Japan, and other labor-intensive rice-growing areas where life was short. Later marriage for men in the regions from Mesopotamia to the Mediterranean also meant that newly married couples might not live with parents at the outset, but the ideal there was to bring a man’s new wife into his father’s household to train her quickly to regard his family’s interests as her own primary interests. The extremely high sex ratios of men to women found in many early west-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 87 ern European manor records apply to agricultural hamlets, often still in a pioneering forest edge situation. These records do not include those living in the manor headquarters with its weaving hall, where missing women presumably would be found. High sex ratios also apply to the largest and smallest manors,

not to medium-sized ones (Dickemann, in Chagnon and Irons, II 1979). Those high sex ratios, and references to foundling hospitals as preventers of infanticide, are the major evidence for claiming that medieval Europeans practiced selective female infanticide. Infanticide surely occurred at times among those too poor to feed another child and among unwed mothers who could see no other choice; yet both foundling hospitals and monastic institutions to which to offer infants were alternatives for those who could reach them. Selective neglect probably also was real, for those early manor rolls show slightly lower female than male life expectancies at birth and at later ages. Still, assuming that medieval western Europeans kept down population growth through female infanticide (Russell, V 1985) appears overdrawn. It seems likelier that later marriage age for women can be hypothesized not just for 13th-century England (Hajnal, III 1982), but also for other parts of northwest Europe. Later marriage for women would combine readily with young women as well as young men working for others outside the parents’ home

between early adolescence and marriage, as foreshadowed by manorial experience. As the climate warmed from about A.D. 700 to about 1200, population rose and fields increasingly replaced forests. Commercial expansion led to trading towns, which soon began to purchase rights of self-rule from overlords, who

would sell those rights to gain a nearby commercial center. By 1000, the whole of Europe again held about as many people as the region from Egypt to Mesopotamia, Anatolia, and Iran, in part because the latter region was still recovering from its own depopulation by epidemics in the 2nd through 7th centuries A.D. Lacking new lands like those of northern Europe to open, its people had fallen even farther behind both China and India in numbers than they had been before. By A.D. 1100, there apparently was enough pressure within Europe to help fuel crusades to recover the Holy Land of Palestine and settle there. The first papal call for a crusade in 1095 was meant to divert Europe’s warring local lords and their many sons into taking Christendom’s sacred sites from Muslims, who had held them for more than 400 years. After 1200, when the climate began to cool again, continued population growth pushed increasingly at the limits of even an improving technology. Access to land to till became so

important that around Glastonbury in 13th-century England, a young man commonly married an older widow to gain access to the land her husband had cultivated. After she died, he married a woman closer to his own age, had children with her, and then expected her to do as his first wife had done. This effectively barred his own children from rights to use that land, forcing his sons to do as he had done and his daughters to do as his wives had done (Mendels,

88 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT If 1978). This strategy kept widows as well as widowers in the marriage market, like west African polygyny, providing them with new companionship and mutual support. It probably came into use as increases in local population be-

came too rapid for easy succession of sons to fathers’ and uncles’ places, which would begin to happen when population growth approached a rate of 1% per year (Wrigley, in Tilly, II] 1978). At least some children of those Glastonbury marriages were, therefore, apt to end up as laborers with small cottages and small garden plots, who would have to hire themselves out to those with rights of cultivation. Many signs of crowding appeared in the 13th

century, as nobles and clergy continued to take large shares of what was produced—as much as half in some areas—vyet used more of it for display and less of it for productive investment than before (Grigg, III 1980). By 1500, all the western European land that could be used with current technology was in use. It is ironic that in the 13th century with its signs of crowding, theologian Thomas Aquinas called for still more procreation, so that Christians might expel Muslims from the Holy Land of Palestine or at least from southern Spain. (By A.D. 1315, overcrowding was real enough so that a succession of wet summers produced real famine, a warning that worse disasters could be in store.) On the other hand, the Albigensian movement in southern France regarded procreation as unnecessary while its followers awaited the last days, perhaps semiconsciously realizing that overcrowding was real (Wrigley, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1981). The terrible 12th-century Children’s Crusade, in which hopeful young people (some 12 or younger) went off to death from disease, surely suggests that opportunity at home seemed slim to many, hoping for livelihoods as well as victories. In the mid—14th century, the infamous Black Death (which may have included both anthrax and plague) rolled over all the lands west of India, killing 25% to 40% wherever it went. Overcrowding ceased to be a problem, but at a terrible cost in human lives. The experience of Halesowen in England illustrates English and western European life in the 13th and 14th centuries. In the period 1270-1348, for males traceable in manor court records for the village (too few females were traceable for calculations to be made), larger tenants could expect 30 more years of life at age 20, those with middle-sized holdings could expect the village average of 25 more years at 20, and smaller tenants with scarcely more than a garden plot could expect not quite 21 years more at 20. On average, five children could be found in larger tenants’ homes; for the middle group, not quite three (slightly over the all-village average); and for smaller tenants, fewer than two. There were enough smaller tenants to lower the village average despite larger numbers in the few wealthier homes; but some smaller tenants’ older children served in larger tenants’ homes, affecting both groups’ averages. No middle or small tenant had more than six children in the home, but a few larger tenants

had as many as eight. After the whirlwind of death passed through the village—mainly taking those who would have lived less long anyway—small

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 89 tenants in 1349-1400 could expect more than 30 years of life at 20, only two years below the village average and less than four years (not almost nine) below that of the larger tenants. That strongly suggests that Halesowen was indeed overcrowded before the Black Death. Changed age distribution (because of higher losses of children and young adults) accounts for a dramatic drop in children per household for all groups, rather than women averaging fewer births. Larger tenants averaged only 3 children per household, middle tenants 2, and smaller tenants not quite 1.5. The village average was just over two. No family household had more than five, and only larger tenants had that many (Razi, V 1980). Halesowen went from no more than 8% of those age 20 or over being 60 or over in 1350, right after the plague, to more than 20% of its adults being 60 or over in 1393. That suggests how long it could take to recover from such a blow. Small tenants, scarcer than before, could insist on higher wages or even annual rather than daily wages. Many have suggested that realizing birth limi-

tation would help to raise wages made late marriage for women spread through western Europe’s peasantries after 1348. Such an argument applies to so many other areas in which this did not happen that seeking another explanation (like the manorial experience suggested above) seems more reasonable. Whatever the reasons, late marriage for women was almost universal in western Europe by the time parish marriage registered yield significant quanti-

ties of data on marriage ages, in the 16th and 17th centuries. By A.D. 1500, Europe held a sixth (Durand, III 1977) to a fifth (McEvedy and Jones, III 1978) of the world’s population, or probably less than a third of Asian totals. The lands from England, Germany, and today’s Czechoslovakia on the north to France and Italy on the south were more densely peopled than Portugal, Spain, Denmark, Poland, or Hungary, and far more densely peopled than Ireland, Scotland, the rest of Scandinavia, or any of the Balkan lands, including Greece (McEvedy and Jones, III 1978). Greek life expectancies were lower by A.D. 1400 than at any time since 2000 B.c. Greece’s population apparently was failing to replace itself, with fewer than half the four or so infants born per woman reaching maturity, much as around 300 B.C., when tu-

berculosis evidently brought survivals below replacement level (Angel, in Polgar, [I 1975). Greek life expectancies in A.D. 1400 also were below those for Westerhus in Sweden in the 12th and 13th centuries. Women could only hope for about 15.5 more years at age 15, to almost 21 more for men, not quite as long as at Westerhus. Greek figures for A.D. 1400, and a suggestion that couples in parts of 14thcentury rural Macedonia were not replacing themselves (Laiou, V 1977), indicate that epidemics may have encouraged large family group households’

persistence throughout southeast and east Europe. Because those regions were nearer the Asian sources of most epidemics, they were affected more often and more deeply by epidemic diseases than central and western Europe, despite being more sparsely settled. Their people may have kept large family

90 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT groups together to try to enable every household to have a bare minimum of

adult workers survive any epidemic onslaught. Such reasoning certainly seems to have encouraged large family household groupings in tropical Af.rica. It also makes sense for eastern Europe and for other areas that frequently suffered devastating epidemics, like India and China. Both women and men in 14th-century rural Macedonia wed early, perhaps at 15 for women and 20 for men. If so, they were using the eastern European pattern of early marriage for

both sexes rather than the Mediterranean pattern of early marriage for women and later marriage for men. This would fit well with large family households, for it would bring sons’ wives early into the family circle. Unlike Greece, Italy continued to be relatively densely peopled after Roman legions left Europe north and west of the Alps. After 1348, warring north Italian city-states actively encouraged marriage and procreation, wanting more

soldiers. Early marriage for women and late for men (resulting in early widowhood and fewer births per woman) slowly changed to somewhat later marriage for women, slightly earlier marriage for men, and closer resemblance to the western European pattern of realms north and west of Italy. Early marriage for women may have continued longer in southern Italy, where

the effective (though not genetic) descendants of the great Roman latifundistas sought to keep up income, despite 14th-century depopulation, by demanding more of their tenants. They even expelled tenants who failed to comply, taking new tenants who were desperate enough to accept increased demands. This made peasants’ lives so insecure that they seem to have turned to a strategy of maximum feasible procreation. They hoped that more child workers would enable them to satisfy landlords’ demands while children were at home, and more offspring to turn to later would mean a comfortable rather than a miserable old age. Italy returned to 1300s population by 1500, more rapidly than even worse depopulated France and Spain. Germany and England, more remote and less affected, also recovered by 1500. Throughout the 1,000 years from Germanic peoples’ entry into former Roman territories to the Black Death, both patrilineal and bilateral tendencies remained evident among Europeans at all levels. The Christian church encouraged bilaterality as well as marrying outside kin circles. The church sought to enlarge marriage networks even more by prohibiting marriage to godkin, those who held the same relationship through one’s godparents or baptismal sponsors as nonmarriageable kin held through one’s own parents. These rules clearly strove to lessen the power of great lineages from royalty on down, thereby weakening potential rivals to church leadership in society, both

in the east, where Orthodox Christianity prevailed, and in the west, where Roman Christianity prevailed. Attention to the mother’s side became important, as nobles recognized new men’s rise to positions of authority by bestowing noblewomen on them as wives—frequently done in 9th-century Germany, for example. The cult of courtly love in the 11th and 12th centuries in Spain,

France, Germany, and elsewhere also encouraged attention to women’s as

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 91 well as men’s claims to status. Both of these developments strengthened bilat-

eral tendencies in western European thinking. Yet manor lords’ interest in clear succession lines for themselves and their tenants encouraged patrilineal tendencies. Western European kinship practices, therefore, mixed the two at all levels, from kings to peasants and among both artisans and merchants in towns. In eastern Europe, Christian teachings came later to Slavs than to many Germanic peoples. Practices there were more uniformly patrilineal, ex-

cept in Greece, where Orthodox teachings were most strongly rooted. Because actively functioning family units at all levels in western Europe consisted of spouses and unmarried children, relations with one’s spouse proba-

bly mattered more than relations with one’s kin through one’s parents for everyday purposes. Divorce was not available in western Europe, though unwittingly marrying within the forbidden degrees of kin and godkin could bring annulment. The powerful usually could prove unacceptable closeness, given the wide network of nonmarriageable people established by church rules. In eastern Europe, divorce was available to both men and women no more than three times and for limited reasons. When times were good, particularly in western Europe, parents who wed in the late 20s could hope to see more than one child marry, but in bad times, parents might find that they had outlived

both children and grandchildren. During most of the 11th through 15th centuries, western European households probably averaged around five members—parents, unmarried children, and, in later years, possibly one or two hired servants. Households were larger to the east and south, where manor lords often were more powerful and more demanding. More types of kin were present, and few, if any, hired servants. Even the powerful tended to obtain almost all their servants through requiring service from their cultivators’ families. In some times and places in western Europe, households averaged even fewer than five during the last few centuries before the age of world cities and the global village began replacing the age of regional cities and

peasantry. : Parents whose offspring reached adulthood were apt to make a retirement

contract with them. Retirement contracts became customary though not universal in much of northwest Europe. Parents might divide all they held or had rights to use among their sons (or children), staying with each son (or child) for a proportional part of the year; or they might turn over most of their holdings or use-rights to one son or son-in-law, retaining a small dwelling and a gar-

den plot, receiving staple foods and other needs from the heir, and pledging the cottage and garden plot to the heir after their deaths. The first form was more common where manor lords were few, as in Scandinavia; the other form was more common where manor lords wanted to see basic holdings kept together. In midlife, when a couple often had to care for both young children and aging parents, at least one spouse was apt to have more than one sibling to share responsibilities. Thus sibship sizes and survival rates helped to make the system workable. Parents whose offspring died before them had to turn to

92 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT nephews, nieces, younger cousins, or even younger neighbors or friends. They might make retirement contracts of the second type, or simply declare intent

to treat the younger person as chief heir in return for care. Western Europeans had other means besides late marriage for women to keep numbers from growing too rapidly to provide for acceptably. Christian church leaders in Roman times saw and condemned the large female entourages of the powerful. Yet they also saw the need for alternatives for women where husbands were not available, in a monogamous Christian society, as well as alternatives for men where women were scarce. They therefore ex-

tolled the virtues of celibate dedication to loving service of God and the church, free from family responsibilities. Monastic institutions for both sexes, and offerings of children by impoverished parents as monastery or nunnery servants for life, kept significant numbers out of procreative circulation— enough to help keep increases down to levels that could be managed with current technologies, yet also could restore losses after epidemics. Thus western

Europeans entered the age of world cities ready to accept the thought that 10% to 15% of those of marriageable age might not marry (particularly among women, whose life expectancies increased more rapidly than men’s). The eventual victory of bilateral rather than patrilineal forms in most aspects of law and everyday thinking let women inherit, and legitimated their finding ways to earn a living if they did not marry. That victory helped to withdraw at least one in ten women from marriage and reproduction throughout western Europe, both where nunneries and monasteries were abolished as part of the

16th-century break between reformist Christians and those who remained true to Rome’s leadership, and where Rome’s leadership (and the monastic institutions) continued in full force. Provisions for nonmarrying women made female infanticide or neglect of female children less likely than in India or China. Yet concern about general infanticide among the desperately poor kept up willingness to establish and maintain foundling hospitals, even though they could be deathtraps for the infants in them. All too often a wet nurse concerned for her own children took an infant, used what she earned to provide for her own children, and gave the foundling barely enough to keep it alive until time to wean it and return it to the foundling home. Weaning would then almost guarantee death from diarrhea, once the weakened infant had to cope with new foods (often unsafe in that presanitation age). Still, much as the mother of Moses had abandoned him (seeking to save him from the Egyptian ruler’s threat to infant Hebrew sons) and then managed to become his wet nurse, impoverished mothers doubtless managed to become paid wet nurses to their own nominally abandoned children more often than can ever possibly be known. They could thereby save child, self, husband, and other children from hunger and death through being paid by church or state. Western Europeans still did not feel pressures as desperate as those that came to prevail in regions farther east, in India and China in particular. Both infanticide and conscious neglect, though

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 93 surely present in Europe, seem never to have reached proportions eventually found in more heavily populated, and therefore more pressured, realms. The hope of migration remained alive, as ina group of 14th-century Essex villages in England made up of smallholders, landless wage workers, and rural textile workers. Between 1293 and 1340, they averaged just over 5% new males age 12 or over maturing or entering every year, to just over 4% dying or leaving (Poos, in Bonfield and others, III 1986).

Overall slow rates of increase, like 1 per 700 or 800 persons per year (0.13% to 0.14%) suggested for Europe, China, Japan, and Mexico between A.D. 1200 and 1500 (Hassan, II 1973), mask fluctuations that could be even

more violent locally than the Black Death was for all of Europe midway through that period (Palloni and Komlos, III 1988). Families needed to overshoot prudent limits, or risk losing all their offspring in a calamitous epidemic. Celibacy, like the one-child policy of contemporary mainland China, could help to recover from that overshooting in time to rebalance in the next generation. Late marriage for both women and men was a way of trying not to overshoot too much in any generation, workable in western Europe because life expectancy at 15 to 20 let parents expect to raise their children, as well as be mature enough to raise them well. European diet contributed to that longevity by including nutritively richer grains and more animal protein than most other agricultural diets. Where such conditions did not prevail—as in most of the rest of the world in the age of peasantry—other means were needed if a society were to overshoot just enough to make recovery from drastic losses possible within a century or less, yet be ready to pull back from overshooting in time for the next generation if recovery from drastic losses was not required. From Anatolia southward, the mixture of strategies was early marriage for women, later for men, mild polygyny, and large female entourages for the powerful, long before either Alexander or the Romans crossed the Mediterranean to Asia or North Africa. Christianity’s appearance and spread was soon followed by a great rise in celibate institutions, which developed first in Southwest Asia and North Africa and only later reached Italy and points west. From the standpoint of population history, that was clearly a first response to simultaneous condemnation of polygyny and large female entourages. Early marriage for both men and women eventually became the chief response, for then almost every woman could marry monogamously. To avert unwanted births, this new and potentially highly fertile pattern of almost-universal early monogamous marriage was accompanied by tremendous emphasis on seasons of fasting, including abstinence from intercourse. In view of disease invasions from Asia into Orthodox Christianity’s homelands, that seemed to be enough for folk wisdom. The eastern church’s stand on clergy marriage suggests that

it probably was. Marriage—prohibited entirely for clergy in the western church, forcing those who might have been priests’ wives into celibacy—was

accepted in the eastern church for ordinary parish clergy. Only those who hoped to become bishops had to remain celibate, to travel administratively

94 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT without worrying about a wife and children. Most people from the south shore of the Mediterranean to Iran, Afghanistan, and the Indus basin continued to follow the familiar older pattern, flirting little, if at all, with its Orthodox Christian modification. The followers of the new religion of Islam, which arose in dry Arabia in the early 7th century A.D., spread its teachings and practice eastward to the mouth of the Indus and westward to Morocco and Spain within a century. Islam drew most of the peoples of that huge region away from Christianity and the local

monotheism of the Iranian empire, the late Roman empire’s great rival through the 6th-century plague that weakened them both. Mild polygyny returned where Christians had tried to uproot it, although Christians who did not convert remained monogamous. (Islamic law permitted polygyny, up to a maximum of four wives, and let a man pronounce his wife divorced, though not the other way around.) Large female entourages for the powerful also returned to the region. (Islamic law made provision for a master’s offspring with a female slave.) From the standpoint of family organization, Mesopotamia in the centuries before the iron age differed little from Iraq (same region, new Arabic name) in the last centuries of the age of regional cities and the first centuries of the age of world cities. Population levels scarcely changed for the entire region from the 7th to the 18th centuries A.D. (the 1st to 12th centuries A.H., the Muslim era). What was lost in one place, as in Iraq after the devastating Mongol conquest of 1258 or in Egypt after the Black Death of 1348, was made up for in another, if not locally recovered within a few generations. If the system’s unconscious but genuine goal was to avoid any real growth in numbers, it was reached for fully 1,200 years. The high mortalities required for

that probably made the maintenance of a favorable three-actives-to-twodependents ratio within each family household even more difficult than in Europe, with all that this implies for the frustration of many families’ hopes for lasting security. Pastoralism was a significant element in population nonincrease. As rulers’ exactions grew unbearable, many peasants fled to become pastoralists. Resulting release from pressure for more production could help to keep births nearly stationary in the long run. Pastoralists’ constant mobility probably made miscarriages likelier (Ekvall, in Spooner, III 1972). Their fairly steady protein-rich but often carbohydrate-poor diet probably would hasten menarche, but could lessen fecundity (Roth, XXII 1981). Because children were less useful in a pastoral than in an agricultural society, pastoralists would want fewer children than would peasants (Meir, III 1986).

Easy divorce for men also slowed population growth by keeping many, though not all, women of reproductive age from bearing as many children as they could. The Muslim family system handled easy divorce by making a woman’s father and brothers responsible for supporting her whenever she was not

with a husband. Whether in her husband’s household or with her father or brother, she was with other women insofar as household resources let men’s

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 95 and women’s quarters be separate. From the standpoint of household organization, it mattered only whether her link with other household women was through her husband or throush her father or brother. She did not need new

quarters, either as a wife or as a returned daughter or sister. The Muslim family system did not accept a woman’s right to work outside the home, for its members were patrilineally concerned with any nonmarital pregnancy that might result from her being with a man who was neither kin

nor husband. Even in 1990, women in North Africa and Southwest Asia formed only 17% of the paid labor force, to 29% in Latin America and the Caribbean and more than 35% in almost all other major world regions. Women’s resulting dependency made it easy to teach them to feed men and boys first, eating only what was left. This was not universally done. Indeed, it disagreed with the spirit of Muslim teaching, which sought to protect women from types of exploitation common in pre-Islamic Arabia by assuring free women both a share in inheritance from fathers and a bridewealth payment from husbands, and by declaring that a female slave who gave birth to a child acknowledged by

her master as his must be freed and the child also must be free. (Islamic bridewealth—unlike African or Asian bridewealth, which was meant to help the bride’s male kin obtain wives—was intended to help the bride’s kin support her if widowhood or divorce returned her to them, much as European dower helped to maintain a widow.) Yet the custom of feeding men and boys first was common enough to make female malnutrition at lower socioeco-

nomic levels probable for many, affecting their reproductive processes. Clitoridectomy also was far from universal, and in no way enjoined by Muslim teaching; but it was used in Egypt and neighboring regions, primarily in tropical Africa. Removal of the clitoris lessened birthgiving somewhat, for it could leave scar tissue around the reproductive passage that would make birthgiving difficult, potentially damaging other parts of the reproductive system enough to make miscarriages more likely after a first birth. Confinement to the home

made it easier to instruct women to accept clitoridectomy, to control what they were told was their otherwise uncontrollable appetite for intercourse. The history of these practices is unclear. Because women’s supposedly insatiable desire for intercourse was already a theme in Roman theatrical comedy,

after Egypt came into Roman hands, while self-mutilation in various forms was practiced by some of the strictest early Christian Egyptian celibates, clitoridectomy may have come from Egypt. The suggestion that women should eat what is left after men have finished is known in many regions, including Europe, and probably is of great antiquity. Few groups anywhere are like some desert Australian Aborigines in forbidding meat to women while their kinsmen take part in initiation ceremonies (often for days at a time), but any restriction on a girl’s or woman’s diet limits how many of her conceptions reach normal birth and how many of those she bears survive to maturity. To the degree that dividing Muslim households between men’s and women’s quarters made it easier to enable men to eat first and give women what was

96 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT left, that, too, can be seen as a way of limiting reproduction. To the degree that separate men’s and women’s quarters were seen as embodying Muslim teach-

ing about protecting every free woman from sexual approach by any man other than her husband, that very teaching was part of reproductive restraint, designed to keep dependents from outnumbering active adults either within the family or in the whole society.

_ TC Chapter 4 South, East, and Southeast Asia; Africa South of the Sahara; and the Americas At some remote time, north India became a region where women might be expected to eat what men left, yet most of south India did not. The early Indus valley civilization was weakened by the desiccation that accompanied climatic warming and local deforestation and cultivation. Desiccation not only made irrigation harder to maintain, but also threatened soils with salinization. If fields received too little irrigation in years when lower rainfall shrank rivers, salts remained on the surface, lessening soil productivity (a problem also faced in Mesopotamia). The early Indus civilization was further weakened when the pre-2000 B.c. tectonic shift interrupted long-distance trade by making it hard

to travel up the Indus from the sea. That set the stage for Indo-Europeans, who came as pastoralists and only gradually turned to city and village life. As Indo-European newcomers entered the Indus valley and moved east to the Ganges valley, they and those already there continued changing forests to fields. Newcomers and conquered developed a hierarchy in which newcomers

shared the top three layers of priest, warrior-ruler, and merchant with local people of appropriate status. All local people without that status composed the only membership of the bottom layer, which eventually was divided into ordinary laborers and unclean laborers. These were not classes, functional groups that people could enter (or leave) by training (or its lack), choice (or calamity), or personal connections (or their lack) that could bring acceptance (or rejection) as one of those with a specific set of functions. Nor were they status groups, whose upper levels’ primary function was to organize their own and their subordinates’ consumption of what was available within systems that

did not yet have city-led socioeconomic structures. Nor were they estates, whose function was to make clear the rights and obligations with regard to land-use enjoyed by members of each estate-level in the social pyramid. At the

98 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT top of a system of estates, a few received crop shares over a wide area in return for recognizing others’ rights to receive crop shares from part of that area, with similar arrangements on down through other layers of receivers. Actual cultivators were the lowest layer, whose labor entitled them to whatever was left. Cultivators in a system of estates might be free or unfree with regard to matters like arranging marriages or moving between villages. Instead, what Indo-Europeans and local peoples evolved in India between 2000 B.c. and A.D. O were hereditary castes. Each caste group had functions its members were required (not just expected) to perform. Cultivation and spinning were open to all, though weaving usually was treated as a specialized function because it required more equipment and skill. Each caste group had to marry within its own ranks and follow its own sets of rules for preparing and eating food. These rules were most restrictive for priests, less so for each successive level below them, and least restrictive for unclean laborers. In India’s warm climate (which becomes progressively wetter as one moves east and/or south from the Indus valley), the priestly caste’s extremely strict food rules clearly defended against disease, like rules against pork and shellfish in ancient Israel. Vegetarianism eliminated fleshborne internal parasites and other disease agents. Eating separately with one’s own freshly washed hands from a newly picked leaf, onto which cooked food was placed directly from the cooking vessel and raw food directly by the preparer, eliminated risk from eating out of a common dish. (The common dish was still frequent in western Europe into the 17th century A.D.) Refusing to accept food or water from unclean or even ordinary laborers’ hands eliminated transmission of dis-

ease by hands not fully cleansed. Ordinary laborers’ hands might carry soilborne pathogens. Unclean laborers—sweepers, leatherworkers, washers of clothing—unavoidably handled human and animal wastes, dead bodies, or sick people’s unwashed clothes, which was why they were defined as unclean. Frequent bathing also could help to avert disease. Yet, unfortunately for infant mortality rates, birthgiving was regarded as unclean. Midwives from unclean laborer households could be unwitting sources of contamination. Tetanus, from unsanitary cutting of the umbilical cord, still causes many infant deaths in parts of rural India. Priestly food rules could keep a priestly family comparatively free from many contagious diseases, but not from airborne pathogens, or from waterborne ones if its well was too shallow. At the bottom of the caste system, unclean laborers were the only ones allowed to eat meat from animals not freshly killed for food. The results, if hunger made them eat meat from an animal that died of disease rather than in an accident, were sadly obvious. Unclean laborers probably had the worst survival rates at all ages. It is hardly possible to estimate whether life expectancies in early India were

as low as the British reckoned them to be for the early 20th century. Yet clearly they would have varied by caste level and local disease levels (greater in

moist, less in drier areas). Probably they were no greater than in Greece in

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 99 2000 B.C., or in ancient Anatolia. Angel’s estimate (in Polgar, II 1975) for ancient Greece of about 21 more years for both men and women of royalty who reached 15 suggests probable maximums for the upper three levels, whereas

his estimate of about 21 more years for men but only about 16 for women among commoners who reached 15 suggests probable upper limits for ordinary laborers, with unclean laborers having even shorter life spans. Early Indian rulers averaged a 27-year generational span, or length of time between the succession of the first in generation A and that of the first in generation B (Trautmann, XV 1981), very like the average 27-year generational span of landholders in England in A.D. 1250-1500 (Russell, V 1985). Because life expectancy at 20 for both sexes taken together fluctuated between 22 and 29

more years in England at that time, it is possible that at the unusual best, upper-level Indians may have had a parallel experience. Fluctuations in food supply and disease in India, however, were surely violent much more often than in England. Annual rainfall was much more unpredictable. Epidemics were a much greater threat in a warm and especially also a wet climate. Bali’s historically traceable experience offers a suggestion. There, the first entries of plague in the 11th century A.D., smallpox in the 15th, and cholera in the 19th were interpreted as appearances of terrifying new deities that must be placated (Lovric, in Owen, XVII 1987a). In India, the rise of the worship of the dread death-dealing goddess Kali between 200 B.c. and A.D. 300 may mean that that was when furious epidemics became an almost constant peril. It is suggestive that that also is when rules about food, rules about marriage (a man’s wife usually prepares his food), and rules against individuals carrying out functions other than those of their own caste group were put into the strict form known as the laws of the priestly sage Manu. An incipient quarantine program was being established by and for priestly families, but at the price of permanently restricting all major aspects of everyone’s life from highest to lowest socioeconomic levels. Moreover, it could not eliminate any major disease, for the need for public sanitation measures like ensuring pure water was not understood. Early Indo-Europeans in India could demographically afford to let women wait until maturity to wed, judging from their oldest hymns. By the time of Kali and the laws of Manu, 2,000 years later, their descendants and the descendants of those they had mingled with in north India evidently felt unable to wait so long. Those whom they pushed toward south India (probably already peopled by groups speaking similar Dravidian languages) also eventually adopted much of Manu’s code, including early marriage for women. Manu’s code suggests belief that a woman must begin childbearing early, while at her healthiest, and a man must begin siring children to avoid dying before fathering enough to ensure family continuance. Because such young spouses would probably be far too inexperienced to meet a separate household’s re-

sponsibilities (including especially childbearing and child-rearing), they should remain with one spouse’s parents. In north India, largely patrilineal

100 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT since Indo-European pastoral times, this normally meant the husband's parents. Manu’s code idealized a joint family in which brothers stayed together

after their father died. In practice, a joint family was apt to divide (each brother taking an equal share of family property) when the oldest brother's first son brought a bride of a new generation into the household. This joint family, not just his own and his wife’s nuclear family, was what a son had a duty to continue. That was why he must start early to contribute his due share. Only such a large kin group could hope to survive the great epidemics that must have regularly punctuated India’s life, judging from hymns and prayers. Reproductive forces had to be marshalled early in both women’s and men’s lives to ensure enough births to keep households viable. In India, as elsewhere, that meant at least two fully functioning adults age 20 to, at latest, 55, plus at least one helper in late childhood to early adolescence or in late middle to early old age for every two young children or very old people. This was crucial at all levels. At upper levels, it was needed to maintain a mode of living and

a set of social connections appropriate to social standing. At lower levels, it was needed just to stay alive, in view of upper levels’ labor demands on both ordinary and unclean laborers. A joint family’s wide membership, much larger than a simple nuclear or conjugal family of spouses and unmarried children, was essential for household viability. It spread more widely than a nuclear family the risks and costs of child-rearing, as weil as other risks like epidemics or crop failures. Joint families usually saw more children survive than nuclear ones in the same agricul-

tural and disease environment (Burch, in Bulatao and Lee, III 1983), for others in the household could care for young children while mothers and fathers carried out essential tasks. Joint families also facilitated marrying both sexes early, having parents or maturer brothers and sisters-in-law to advise and help young spouses. Patrilineality was strongest (and opportunity to call ona mother’s kin in emergency was weakest) in the north. Elaborate rules prevented close-cousin marriage there. This helped to keep peace over possible marriage claims by one cousin on another, and helped to ensure that a new wife would have no kin in her new home to support her against her husband and his father and brothers. In the south, where matrilineal elements persisted alongside patrilineal tendencies, close-kin marriages were more accepted. Some southern groups, usually those in which women as well as men might hold claims to land, even welcomed close-kin marriages as a way to keep family property together. Once reproductive forces were marshalled, the next issue was how to restrain them. Too many births would mean not all those born could be fed, clothed, housed, and prepared for the social roles assigned them by birth. For lower levels, this was a matter of physical survival. For upper levels, always concerned to maintain claims to higher status through scrupulously following the laws of Manu, this was a matter of social survival. Though actual starvation probably caused fewer famine-year deaths than the diseases that attacked

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 101 malnourished bodies, famines took longer than epidemics to recover from be-

cause they weakened not only human survivors, but also work animals, needed in India’s plow agriculture. Moreover, in famine times, people sold everything—even needed tools—to try to obtain food. The great reserve army of reproduction was always ready for swift recovery after catastrophic loss from epidemic or famine, but its excess capacity had to be controlled in noncatastrophic times to avoid the potentially equal calamity of catastrophic growth. Many of the features Europeans saw in India’s social and family systems as

the age of world cities opened could help to check population growth. Though some overshooting was needed because of abrupt reversals caused by epidemics, or drought and disease, or, in river deltas, flood and disease, the population juggernaut needed usable brakes. Some of those brakes were in Manu’s code and its early interpretations. One was the expectation that parents would abstain from intercourse for the rest of their lives after seeing their first grandson. Pacific island Ifaluk women who ceased reproducing to care for grandchildren had more grandchildren survive than women who continued to bear children after grandchildren arrived (Turke, in Betzig and others, I] 1988). Thus the grandmother effect of early stopping, when a first grandchild comes or a first daughter-in-law enters the household, could mean both

fewer to care for now and more surviving later. To prepare for abstinence in middle and later life, Manu’s code enjoined couples to avoid frequent intercourse. In north Indian households, with their separate men’s and women’s quarters, popular oral and written literature makes clear that older women have long rationed young men’s access to their wives. Normally, intercourse was not allowed until older women were sure a young wife was fully past menarche. Though Manu’s code stated that a wife should be brought in before menarche so as to be sure she had never had intercourse with another man, the practice also enabled her husband’s mother to know when she was genuinely ready to begin bearing children. One appeal of Buddhism, the great rival to Hinduism that arose in north India in the 6th century B.C., may even have been its version of the theme of abstinence from intercourse within a call to general self-discipline. Buddhism’s appeal, in what was probably already an era of overcrowding (with many wars among land-seeking rulers), may have paralleled Albigensians’ appeal in southern France in the 12th century A.D. Buddhist teachings on self-discipline could have similarly appealed to many elsewhere, as Buddhism spread to other regions from Sri

Lanka and Southeast Asia to China, Korea, and Japan. Sri Lankans may well have been crowded by the time they accepted Buddhism from north Indian missionaries, for they were already living in a caste system. That system did not distinguish unclean from ordinary laborers, and was bilateral rather than patrilineal, but otherwise, it was about as rigid as its north Indian counterpart. Buddhists went beyond injunctions to be sparing about intercourse and stop altogether when grandchildren came. They called

102 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT for celibacy as a possible choice during early life either before beginning to re-

produce or at any time thereafter, like the Buddha himself when he left his wife and young son to meditate. When Hindus enjoined a widow at upper caste levels to die, at least symbolically (by casting off her jewels, wearing only the plainest clothes, and, above all, never remarrying), that injunction cut short her reproductive career as effectively as immediate strangling of newly widowed women among the densely settled Enga of New Guinea (Harris and Ross, II 1987). At some times and in some places, a high-caste Hindu widow was in fact expected to lie beside her

husband’s body on the funeral pyre and be burned to death as his body was cremated. Cremation was a way to limit contagion, but not for the airborne smallpox virus. Balinese observed this quickly enough to give it up for smallpox victims soon after smallpox arrived in the 15th century A.D. Indians, already prey to smallpox and many other ills when they began using cremation, failed to recognize that. They thereby unwittingly increased their smallpox losses.

Premenarcheal marriage and prohibitions on widow remarriage eventually brought the seeming absurdity of widows so young that their marriages were never consummated. Yet this kept currently unwanted reproductive capacity inactive, paralleling nunneries in medieval Christendom and large female entourages for the powerful from Morocco to Afghanistan and beyond. Such a system could not incorporate a concept of divorce and remarriage. Still, rules against widow remarriage or even divorce and remarriage did not apply to ordinary laborers, let alone to unclean laborers. Presumably their death rates were so high that those at upper levels did not want to check their fertility,

whether out of compassion or out of calculation that more laborers born meant more potential clients for elite patrons. Monogamy for almost everyone, combined with hypergamy or marrying upward for some women, was another aspect of Manu’s code that could limit procreation. A man could take a new wife if sonless (though few did) or if his wife died; but that was almost all. Because the hereditary caste system’s reliance on carefully following many rules meant high status anxiety, families of slightly lower status within a broad caste grouping came to wish to reinforce their position by marrying daughters into families of slightly higher status. Large dowry-gifts usually were offered to help increase their acceptability. (Dowry in India, as elsewhere, was intended by the bride’s kin to help maintain her even through widowhood, before being passed on to children.) Because

hypergamy left women at the top without proper potential husbands, the priestly caste developed visiting polygyny as a marital form for some. In this form, the husband occasionally visited several wives in turn in their parents’ (eventually their brothers’) homes and left their probably rather few children with them, besides having a chief wife and her offspring in his own home. Hypergamy also left some lower-level men with no chance to marry. This apparently did not concern rule-makers, since abstinence was regarded as a state

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 103 of virtue rather than of frustration. Polyandry, enshrined in the great Indian epic of the Mahabharata in the beautiful wife of the hero-brothers, was found most often where resources were constantly so scarce (as in the high northern mountains) that child survival virtually required more than two adults of prime working age within a household. Neither monogamy, polygyny, nor polyandry probably made any difference worth noting in the number born per woman aiving birth (excluding barren women and women who never consummated a marriage), if we can apply contemporary data to earlier eras (Nag, in Nag, III 1975). Yet polyandry certainly means fewer grandchildren per grandmother (and grandfather) than in polygynous or monogamous systems. In polygyny, a woman’s reproductive life might be shortened (or even ended before it could begin) by venereal disease acquired from a husband who acquired it from another wife, who acquired it from a former husband or other partner who had acquired it from still another woman, and so on back. This sequence of events was ordinarily rare, but extraordinary circumstances in some areas of Africa made it a frequent personal tragedy for many women there in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. A monogamous system, with early enough marriage for both partners so that neither would have had intercourse with anyone else, remains the best way to avoid sterility. Indians clearly recognized that. Tibetan polyandry was greatest where monastic overlords’ demands were greatest. On that high, windswept plateau, it apparently took at least two men to provide for a woman’s children and meet other obligations, working both in distant upland pastures and in fields close to home. Yet polyandry also required some means of dealing with the obvious female surplus, much as status anxiety among upper castes in India required means of dealing with unmarried daughters for whom hypergamy precluded proper marriages. Tibetans largely solved the female surplus problem with practices still found among people of Tibetan culture in Nepal (Fricke, XVI 1986). Unmarried daughters stayed at home all their lives to help with household work, or entered Buddhist nunneries; selective neglect at all ages made female death rates higher at every age than male death rates; and some female infants were killed at birth. In India, the priestly level solved the hypergamy problem through visiting polygyny, possibly supplemented by selective neglect. The warrior-ruler level and those at other upper levels were more apt to combine selective neglect with female infanticide. When British rulers in 19th-century India realized this, they began to work with Indian reformers to oppose both female infanticide and widow burnings. Female infanticide is a harsh way to control population, but it works. As the Inuit knew, it rapidly adjusts population to resources, yet can be given up (until the next emergency) in better times. Selective neglect works in more than one way to limit population. Early in life, it can be a disguised form of female infanticide. During the reproductive years, it leads to more miscarriages,

more stillbirths, more deaths in childbirth, and lower birthweight for new-

104 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT borns, diminishing survivorship. Societally, this could be an advantage rather than a disadvantage if not that many children are currently wanted. Women may be told that eating less rather than more when pregnant (a custom found by Europeans in the 19th century in parts of China as well as parts of India) ensures a smaller infant and an easier delivery—a classic example of the general principle that those asked to sacrifice must be persuaded they will benefit, when collective vulnerability is believed to require sacrifice (Maher, in Medick and Sabean, III 1984). Being small at birth for both sexes results in being small

throughout life, requiring less food throughout childhood for reasonably healthy growth and less food in adulthood for reasonable health maintenance. Negative aspects of underfeeding pregnant women would seem to outweigh these potentially attractive aspects, unless food often is short. Oral traditions (and written records, too, in China) indicate that local or regional food shortages were frequent in both India and China over the centuries. Consequently the fetal losses, stillbirths, maternal deaths, and infant mortality resulting from underfeeding pregnant women could have seemed bearable.

In south India, marriage was as generally monogamous as in the north, though less apt to be hypergamous. It came early for both sexes, though not always as early as in the north. Widow remarriage was forbidden in the upper levels, countenanced at the lower levels, as in the north. Yet female infanticide seldom was found in south India by 19th-century reformers, Indian or British. Selective neglect, harder to trace, also seemed less prevalent in the south than in the north to 19th-century Indian and British reformers. Because rice is the

major crop in the south, rather than wheat as in most of the north (except Bengal at the mouth of the Ganges), women’s as well as men’s field work is important in planting and harvesting. Moreover, matrilineality continued in some groups in the south until the 20th century A.D., whereas many others continued recognizing female inheritance rights, making close-kin marriages welcome. (Dravidian kinship terminology, with its provisions for close-kin marriages, is named for the language family whose speakers predominate in south India.) Thus women were seen as genuinely important family members.

For many centuries, rice has been the major grain of Bengal and south India, outside of the less densely peopled plateau south of the hills at the southern edge of the Ganges valley. Bengal and the south are warmer and wetter than the plains from the Indus to the western edge of the Ganges delta in Bengal. This means more malaria and other diseases. It lessens survival chances for those born, making limits on reproductive potential seem less necessary. Overall densities apparently were lower in the south than in the north, though high local densities existed there too. Higher overall densities in the north may reflect wheat’s nutritive advantages over rice. Higher local densities in the south may reflect rice’s quantitative advantages over wheat, since rice yields more food per unit of land and more food for less work per unit of weight. Lower overall densities in the south also may reflect more rainfall. Less need would have been felt for numerous laborers to build and maintain

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 105 large irrigation systems than in the drier north. Irrigated plow agriculture expanded with Indo-Europeans and their cattle throughout the Ganges valley as its trees were felled, its fields were plowed, and its rainfall, consequently, dwindled. The densest populations in south India lived where local rulers introduced irrigation systems, probably at least as much to increase tax revenue by increasing production as to increase their subjects’ food supply. Rulers along south India’s coasts appear to have relied on foreign trade for revenue as soon as cities appeared, before A.D. 0. Because Indian Ocean trade increased rather steadily over the centuries, most of south India’s coastal rulers may have felt less desire than northern or southern inland rulers to press for high increases in rural production that might make local peasants try to enlarge their work force by more births. All these suggestions are hypotheses, not certainties. India’s population history before British rule was established in the 18th and 19th centuries remains almost a blank, despite valiant efforts at numerical estimates. China’s population history is much less blank, thanks to its rulers’ efforts to know the number

of potential taxpayers over the past 2,200 years. Not all those efforts are worth the paper they were originally written on. Modern scholars have realized that officials were strongly tempted, after laboriously taking an actual count, to report almost the same number for the next several decades. Officials prudent enough to fear that this might seem suspicious were apt to estimate a modest increase rate that would not bring imperial tax assessments to unbearable levels until the next generation of officials (50 or more years later) would face the resulting problems. They then kept producing new population figures using that estimated increase rate until the next ruler (or the one after that) successfully insisted on a new actual count. Still, Chinese population tallies encourage Durand (III 1977) to give population estimates for China up to A.D. 1500 within confidence limits much smaller than the confidence limits he

uses for India, Africa, or the Americas. He estimates 100 to 150 million for A.D. 1500 for China (60 to 70 million for Europe west of Russia, 20 to 30 million for Southwest Asia, but 75 to 150 million for India, 36 to 72 million for

Africa, 32 to 60 million for the Americas, and 440 to 540 million for the world). Most of these figures resemble the estimates of McEvedy and Jones (III 1978), who give 110 million for China in A.D. 1500, 69 million for Europe west of Russia, 20 million for Southwest Asia, 100 million for India, 46 million for Africa, and 425 million for the world. Because McEvedy and Jones place less faith than Durand in recent revisions for the Americas, they estimate only 14 million there. The first cities on the north China plain arose some time after 2000 B.c. Rice cultivation and bronze probably had spread over much of south China from northern Southeast Asia by the time bronze and royal capitals appeared almost simultaneously in the north. Thereafter, irrigation works and increases in population spread across north China as more children were born to meet rulers’ growing labor demands. Walls to protect from neighboring pastoralists

106 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT to the north further increased rulers’ labor demands as early as the 6th century B.C. in some areas. During the next few centuries, Confucius, his followers, and later interpreters set out rules for family life, which they saw as the state’s basis and reason for being. As Confucius’ chief interpreter Mencius put

it, the state should enable every family to provide a comfortable life for its members. By the time of Confucius and Mencius, new iron and plow agriculture technologies led to the world’s greatest concentration of population on the plain from the Yellow River valley of the north to the lower Yangzi River in the center. The work animals of north China were only work animals, though,

not major food sources like work animals from India west to the Mediterranean and northwest Europe. China south of the Yangzi took at least another 1,800 years to become densely populated also. Its gradual population growth over that period came almost entirely from immigration from crowded north China, not from local increase. In many parts of the south, descendants of those whose states were taken over by the conquering founder of the first dynasty to unite south China with the north, just before 200 B.C., remained conscious enough of newcomers’ arrival to treat them as separate guest people (Hakka). Hakka still remain at the margins of south China’s social, economic, and political life (Vogel, XVIII 1989). Large patrilineal households in north China closely resembled the large

patrilineal households with parents, married sons, unwed offspring, and grandchildren that developed in north India in response to pressures from rul-

ers and perils of epidemic, drought, and flood. The cooling trend that preceded the great 6th-century A.D. plague in Europe was felt in north China too. Only as it eased could a new founder of another dynasty reunify China just before A.D. 600. The immediate successor to the first brief unifying dynasty fell apart after A.D. 200 in the face of smallpox, measles, and mobile pastoralists from central Asia’s steppes. That collapse of China’s imperial system closely mirrors the collapse of Rome’s control in most of its European domains, in the face of smallpox, measles, lead poisoning from lead-lined wine jars, and the

southward movement of Germanic agriculturalists, who may already have been pinched by the beginning of the cooling trend. Central Asian pastoralists’

arrival along the Great Wall of China helped to send the first great wave of north Chinese migrants southward, preparing the way for even more migration after north and south were reunited. Warming trends led to a peaking of total Chinese population around A.D. 1200, a century earlier than the European peak at A.D. 1300; but in the next 200 or more years of cooling, total numbers were lowered by the Black Death of 1331 onward for China, 1346 onward for Asia west of India and for Europe. The same cooling trend contributed in Europe to growing feelings of crowdedness in the 13th and early 14th

centuries. When Mongol pastoralists unified the steppe and its borderlands from China to Mesopotamia and southern Russia in the 13th century, they enabled the plague to spread after 1330 across the whole Eurasian land mass

from its apparent home along the border between southwest China and

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 107 Burma (McNeill, III 1976). Though recovery did not begin in any of the devas-

tated areas for about 50 years, both China and Europe were almost back to previous peak levels by 1500. During the 2,000 years from Confucius to the opening of the age of world cities, epidemics constantly endangered family and, therefore, individual survival. In north China, drier and cooler than south China, risk levels probably only surpassed most European areas’ risk levels by the degree stemming from greater population density, but that difference could be considerable. In south China (more like the Ganges valley than like Europe), infective agents were more numerous than in the north. Yet only as people became ever more crowded into the south’s narrow river valleys and coastal plains did epidemic risks become noticeably greater there than in the north. Much later, a landmark cooperative survey was done in 1929-31 by Chinese and American investigators and reviewed by George Barclay and others (XVIII 1976). They found life expectancies of scarcely over 21 at birth and somewhat over 27 years at age 20 in the south for both sexes, compared with life expectancies in the north of over 26 for women and over 29 for men at birth and over 31 years for women and over 33 years for men at age 20. Working backward from data for 1929-31 is hazardous. Even in China’s disaster-ridden records, it was an unusual era of warfare plus epidemic plus drought plus flood. Still, new crops from the Americas had altered both Chinese diet and Chinese land usage after the 16th century, perhaps slightly lessening the effects of drought and flood. Worldwide efforts in the 19th and 20th centuries to contain smallpox, plague, and cholera probably also had had time to increase life expectancy. Perhaps China’s experience between Confucius and Columbus parallels that of Greece between 1150 B.c. (when iron was being introduced) and A.D. 1400 (when the eastern Roman empire was engaged in its last struggle with the advancing Ot-

toman Turks). Life expectancy in Greece for men who reached 15 during those years decreased from 24 to 23 years, peaking at 30 years around 650 B.C., whereas for women, it remained at about 16 years, peaking at over 21 years from 650 to 300 B.c. (Angel, in Polgar, I] 1975). It may be reasonable to use similar figures for actual Chinese expectancies in the age of peasantry. At the same time, the 1929-31 data suggest that north-south differences in aaricultural and disease regimes meant not only that women and men in the south had almost equal adult expectancies, in that rice-growing region where women’s work in the fields was vitally important. It also meant that once south China became crowded as A.D. 1200 peak levels were approached, neither sex

was apt to expect as much as 15 years at age 15. In the north, on the other hand, men might hope for 20 more years at age 15 at around A.D. 1200, but women probably could not, being less valued for agricultural work where mil-

let and wheat were major crops. When elite groups in India developed caste rules for food and water, they were trying to lessen risk from contagion. In China, virtually everyone came to drink tea made with boiled water, to cut foods for the common dish into small

108 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT pieces, and to take those pieces with chopsticks, which scarcely touched what others would eat. Epidemics would have been an even greater threat without those contagion-reducing innovations, which probably helped more people than India’s elite-protecting rules. Longer life spans in north China, like the early building up of dense population there, may reflect the nutritional superiority of wheat and millet over rice, as well as the greater presence of pathogens in the warmer and wetter south. It also is possible that the quantitative superiority of rice (requiring fewer workers to feed more mouths) helped to

keep densities in south China from becoming great sooner than they did. Because epidemic dangers are always greatest where density is greatest, they were greater in crowded rural China and India than in less densely peopled rural Europe in the age of peasantry. Yet Yellow River valley dwellers faced even more risk from both drought and flood than those in the Ganges valley, let alone those in Europe. Dry steppe and desert, not rain-attracting mountains, lay north of the Yellow River. The silt that the Yellow River washed down from deforested uplands and hillsides upstream eventually raised its bed high above the plain along its lower course. Besides requiring massive dikes,

this made devastating floods possible whenever those in authority failed to maintain the dikes. At times, the authorities might even cause such floods, opening the dikes for defense against internal rebels, as in the mid-19th century A.D., or against external invaders, like the Japanese in 1938. The Yellow River’s mountain sources were farther from its agricultural plain than those of the Ganges. Waters in north China had longer to evaporate in the summer sun before reaching the fields, though north India’s greater heat probably made evaporation rates higher there. As for central and south China, drought and flood also were greater threats than in Europe, though probably little different than in the Ganges valley. Torrential rains in central and south China—the Chinese term fai-feng, great wind, gives us our word typhoon—made local flash floods common in the hilly south’s narrow valleys and coastal plains. Earthquake, a form of disaster also known in Europe and other areas of Asia, probably threatened heavily populated areas in China more frequently than in most regions west of China. The great Pacific Ocean rim of fire, where both earthquakes and volcanic eruptions take place more often than elsewhere, runs from the eastern islands of Southeast Asia through coastal and nearcoastal China to Korea, Japan, easternmost Siberia, Alaska, and the western mountain ranges of North, Central, and South America. This history of perils makes clear why Koreans and Japanese as well as Chinese have favored large family group households over small family unit households for as far back as any indications can be found. As in India, so in these lands, only large households could hope to remain viable in the face of unpre-

dictable catastrophes like epidemics, droughts, floods, earthquakes, and typhoons. Crowded conditions no doubt soon pushed those large family group households toward becoming strongly patrilineal in north China. In south China, they quickly replaced whatever other patterns existed before northern

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 109 families began moving southward after the epidemics and imperial collapse of the 3rd century A.D., except in a few isolated areas. Similarly crowded conditions did not yet prevail in north Korea or north Vietnam when Chinese rulers added them to China’s empire in the 2nd century B.c. The self-protectively large family group households that already existed there as insurance against typhoons and earthquakes were probably matrilineal in Korea and bilateral in Vietnam (as probably also in many other parts of Southeast Asia where households were smaller). Chinese imperial insistence imposed Confucian-dictated patrilineal forms on both Koreans and Vietnamese, despite local resistance. Those forms eventually became the norm after both peoples threw off Chinese control, Koreans in the 3rd and Vietnamese in the 10th century A.D. In China, rulers’ demands for work on dikes and roads in the north, bridges and roads in the south, spurred both patrilineality and increased numbers. De-

manding local landlords, who saw land shortages as opportunities to seek more rent, also spurred both patrilineality and increased numbers throughout

China. Moreover, periods of either local or widespread disorder spurred patrilineality and increased numbers for simple self-protection. Disorder ran rife in China whenever overcrowding and the desperation it produced were not relieved by a new crop, or a new technological advance, or a new area made available for settlement by a new crop or a new technique—or by elimination of some of the too-numerous people by open warfare. Such warfare usually accompanied a change of imperial dynasties, which took place regularly when a central government could no longer squeeze enough taxes from impoverished subjects to control the desperate. Given these pressures for increasing numbers, relatively short life expectancies for adults dictated fairly early marriage for both sexes. As in India, large

family group household norms facilitated early marriage by surrounding young newlyweds with older kin. That seldom meant prepubertal marriage in China, though the practice of adopting a future daughter-in-law to be raised in

her husband’s family (often used by poorer households) resembled it. Because Chinese households usually gave each married couple its own quarters, the issue of a husband’s access to his wife did not arise. Mahayana or Great Vehicle Buddhism (adopted in China and eventually in Korea, Vietnam, and Japan) introduced monasteries and nunneries, siphoning off a few potential

mothers, as did emperors’ large female entourages and the usually much smaller ones of other powerful men. Yet admiration for at least partial abstinence as a goal for all, encouraged in India by Hinduism and in Sri Lanka and Southeast Asia by the different Theravada or Teacher’s Way school of Buddhism, took less root in China than in India. China’s nearest equivalent was

the self-discipline and self-containment taught by the indigenous Daoist

school; but only a devoted few apparently practiced that. : Still, in China as in India, marshalling all available reproductive forces did not mean that they would all be used. In China, as in India, widows were enjoined not to remarry; but in China, that discouragement operated in some de-

110 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT gree at all levels, not only at the less numerous upper ones. With an elite civil service entered through examination, not through birth, China came much closer than India to a society of classes. Although a few occupations were seen as somewhat contaminating, people were not hereditarily kept in them. Thus even a poor family strove to follow the same general family patterns as the elite, so that a fortunate descendant could look back on his less fortunate ancestors as virtuous and worthy of reverence. China’s and India’s differing historical experiences had much to do with that. A leading factor in the caste system’s growth and continuance was India’s experience with periodic invasions along the same route taken by the Indo-Europeans after 2000 B.c. Caste rules were a way to encapsulate new conquerors and let others continue living relatively undisturbed lives. In China, with only one great wave of external invasion in the 3rd to 6th centuries A.D., followed by two conquests in the 13th and 17th centuries that brought only a few permanent new settlers, such encapsulations seemed less necessary. A Chinese widow was not expected to die with her husband, either symbolically or literally. If he lacked sons, his parents might even bring in an extra son from a larger and often kin-linked family, or perhaps a man bereft of family by

calamity, to be her husband and to father sons. Still, the more usual nonremarriage of widows helped to limit population growth, as in India. In both China and India, young pregnant wives often were persuaded to eat less, not more, with the same reproduction-limiting results. Selective neglect clearly operated in north China in 1929-31, though it is impossible to tell how far back any widespread use of it may go. Yet footbinding, to make women’s feet unnaturally small so that women would sway (supposedly attractively) as they walked, was selective neglect in effect. It forced girls’ and women’s energies into battling constant pain and danger of infection (even with regularly changed clean bindings) in the mutilated feet. The elite began footbinding in the 11th century A.D., to demonstrate the affluence of men whose womenfolk could only walk short distances. By the 19th century, it was done at all but the

poorest levels, though it is hard to ascertain how long it took to spread that far. The leading checks on births in China were not Buddhist nunneries or large female entourages for the powerful. They were a strong preference that widows not remarry, a willingness to use female infanticide in emergency (painfully visible in the 18th and 19th centuries, but visible enough before then to concern earlier Chinese moralists), and varying degrees of selective neglect—including footbinding—the rest of the time. Because these considerations meant that there usually were more men than women of marriageable age, monogamy was the general rule. Buddhist monasteries took some excess men. Polyandry might seem logical, but the notion of two or more men sharing one wife was unthinkable to orthodox Confucian moralists. Not only did they see each woman as properly having only one hus-

band. They also believed that it was important for younger brothers to see each older brother as another father, and therefore to see each older brother’s

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 111 wife as another mother, to minimize jealousies and quarrels. Such teachings could not be reconciled with polyandry. Less attention was given to age prece-

dence in India’s joint families, which made polyandry less unthinkable. Polygyny was rare in China. With each married couple expected to have its own quarters, only a family that greatly wanted more sons and could afford separate quarters for a secondary wife might bring one in. Divorce, which could release a woman for another marriage, was infrequent in China in the last 2,000 years of the age of regional cities. It was only available for legally limited causes, most of which (like barrenness, bad temper, or stealing) would make even a desperate family unwilling to bring in a woman divorced for such reasons. She became her father’s or brothers’ responsibility. Only a woman divorced (eventually by government declaration, not by her own request as at first) because her husband had been convicted of a crime and put at hard labor and/or exiled, or a woman who requested divorce because her husband had disappeared for a specified number of years, might be acceptable to another family. Early divorce codes gave little protection to a wife against a husband or his family who were determined to prove cause for divorce, but the 6th-century A.D. reunifiers forbade divorce if a wife had no father or brothers, if she had lived with her husband long enough to mourn his parents, or if he had become wealthy after they were married. These provisions paralleled the early Christian church’s effort to protect women from too easy divorce, in the western Roman empire by forbidding it entirely, in the east by greatly limiting causes for it. Chinese family groups were not as concerned as north Indians with ensuring that a new wife lacked allies in her new household. Each couple had its own quarters. A new wife was not apt to be still only an emotionally immature child. Although a dissatisfied mother-in-law occasionally set out to drive an unsatisfactory daughter-in-law to suicide by piling demands on her, there was no general cultural prescription of self-destruction for a widow, and therefore no overriding sense of needing to be able to force her to join her husband in

death if the family wanted that. China’s sociopolitical system was more unified than India’s. South and north India were never united for much over a century in the age of regional cities, and most of that time they were separate. Yet China had few periods of north-south division after the late 3rd century B.c. That meant that Chinese wanted extremely large kin circles of potential allies. When government was strong, one hoped for a few government officials in one’s kin circle, who could help to impress local officials with the importance of one’s kin. When government was weak, one hoped one’s kin grouping was strong enough to fight off thieves or protect one’s irrigation rights. In less unified India, caste rules limited conflict (and the desirability of large networks) to those who could hope

to maintain or enhance existing power, while caste membership provided large networks in disputes with other caste groups or with invaders. Family group households in China that were demographically and economically for-

112 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT tunate enough to see brothers stay together until after the eldest brother’s first son married eventually broke up, with each brother taking his equal share of the family property. Yet they kept in potential alliance through the patrilineal clan of those who traced their roots to a common ancestor. China’s rulers evidently feared patrilineal clans’ potential power, for like the early Christian

church, they forbade marriage between those they saw as too close kin. Though the church sought to forbid all marriages within prescribed degrees of kinship, China's first unifiers only forbade marriages between brothers’ children. China’s 6th-century A.D. reunifiers only extended that to patrilineal parallel marriages in general, but with the widest possible scope. No marriage was allowed if both parties had the same surname, even if no provable kin link existed. Cross-cousin marriages and marriages of sisters’ children were not forbidden. Both oral tradition and popular literature suggest that they were fairly frequent. Clan organizations actively promoted clan members’ interests, using members’ bequests for solidarity-building activities like feasts for aged members’ birthdays. Wealthy clan members who hired tutors for their children were encouraged to have bright sons of poor members study with them, so that bright poor lads might win office by passing the civil service examinations that gave access to government posts. Though an official always was assigned to another province to prevent him from favoring kin, being kin to an official gave his fellow clansmen an advantage in dealing with those assigned as officials to their area. Families left sonless by calamity looked among clan members for a new potential son to adopt. The clan was the next line of defense beyond the

large family group household against all natural or human catastrophes. Small wonder that over the centuries it became even stronger in south China than in the north. The south was farther from the successive imperial capitals from which all decrees came, and much more broken in terrain. That made it harder for imperial armies or even provincial or district military and police to keep order and uphold imperial law. For China, by Confucius’ time and for the next 2,500 years, the clan always stood behind the patrilineal family group (not merely family unit) household. Households tended to average only four to six members most of the time, though. When a family of two married brothers (each with two or three living children) divided after their parents’ deaths, a household that numbered 10 or 12 for a few years became two households of 4 or 5 that might remain that small for quite some time, as a new infant was born but an older child died or a young daughter married out before a bride came in for a son. As grandchildren appeared, a household grew much larger, but it usually divided after only a few more years. Households had to turn to clans for succor if a great calamity left only dependent aged and/or dependent young. In India, such survivors might find help from fellow caste members, or they might swell the ranks of those who lived by begging, and thereby gave others a chance to practice charity. When Jesus said that the poor are always with us, in the Palestine of 2,000 years ago, this meant households without

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 113 enough adult workers, the same households for which modern societies provide through public aid. The demographic realities of birth, migration, marriage, divorce, and death mean that indeed, they are always with us and always

need to be provided for, not just through haphazard personal charity, but through organized social welfare institutions like the charitable foundations of Muslims and the panoply of charitable institutions of the medieval Christian church that gave rise to modern governmental social welfare systems as found

today around the world. In early agricultural Japan, as in China in the age of peasantry, the clan was the first grouping to which a large family group household would turn after a disaster. As an island country, Japan might have fewer epidemics than a mainland country; but when an epidemic came, its impact was apt to be terrible. Even if the disease were not new, the length of time since its previous visit usually meant few or none had been immunized by previous exposure. For example, not until the 13th century A.D. did smallpox become endemic, a disease primarily of the young, though flaring up in epidemics on occasion. Yet it had taken its first toll in A.D. 735. The wave of smallpox deaths effectively checked the population surge after the great wave of immigration from Asia’s mainland, which began when bronze, iron, and rice-growing were introduced to Japan around the 3rd century B.C. Even in the early 8th century A.D., though, only 15% of peasants probably had iron tools (Farris, XIX 1985). Successive

epidemics’ devastating effects delayed the changeover from long-fallow swidden cultivation to fully sedentary short-fallow dry cropping (combined with irrigated rice fields) until the 13th century A.D. Fortunately, a small number of local population registers survive from just before A.D. 735. Japan’s rul-

ers had newly reorganized their government along Chinese lines, to claim imperial supremacy as well as priestly leadership over previous local overlords’ hereditary lineages. These population registers suggest that in rural early-8th-century areas, about 59% reached age 5 and more males (almost 62%) than females (less than 56%) reached age 5, suggesting in turn that selective neglect was already real. Those who did reach 5 were apt to reach the late 30s for women to the early 40s for men. Rural infants’ life expectancies at registration were perhaps a year less in the southernmost island of Kyushu than in the main island of Honshu, but with a range of under 5 years between the lowest female and the greatest male expectancy. That correlates with skeletal data suggesting an average death age for those who reached 15 of 34.5 for men and under 31 for women in the whole period of the 4th to 8th centuries A.D. (Kobayashi, II 1967). The slightly lower average of under 30 for both in the next few centuries (a period of warming in northern Eurasia) correlates with periodic visitations of both smallpox and measles. The somewhat higher average age of around 36 after 1300 correlates with those diseases’ change

from epidemic to endemic status. It also reflects probable improvement in livelihood as agriculture became more productive (despite cooling after 1200)

and internal and external trade increased.

114 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Population in Japan appears to have roughly quadrupled from 4 million at A.D. 800 to 17 million at 1500 (McEvedy and Jones, III 1978)—still well below the approximately 30 million reached by 1700 and maintained as if it were a natural limit until the mid-19th century. One measure of the impact of the A.D. 735 epidemic, which probably killed at least one in four of those of working age and nearer one in three of the entire population (hitting hardest at young and old), was an imperial decree in 743. It allowed private ownership of newly made irrigated ricefields, rather than continuing to treat all agricultural land as belonging to the state and carrying labor duty as a condition for its use. The first efforts at centralizing on the Chinese model had been de-

feated, more by smallpox-caused depopulation than by opposition (real though it was) from noble clans concerned about losing local power to a labor-

demanding central government. Many cultivators evidently preferred wage work in rural areas or the first new cities to a peasant’s obligation-ridden life. Labor shortages seemed to promise laborers better livelihood than peasants, even though payment was apt to come in an uncertain mixture of food, clothing, shelter, and a little money. Life revolved around clans in the first Japanese generations for which we have written documents, from about the 6th century A.D. Each noble clan had attached to it clans of commoners, whose members’ duty was to provide their noble clan with food, other goods, and services. Because Japan’s islands were subject to unpredictable but devastating earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, typhoons, and tidal waves caused by distant earthquakes beneath the ocean (usually called by their Japanese name, tsunami), social organization on a wide scale indeed was clearly regarded as essential to family and individual survival. Droughts and floods, other than typhoon-caused flash floods, might not threaten in Japan as much as in China. Epidemics probably had little chance to spread before construction of the first real city (imitating the Chinese capital on a smaller scale) began in 710, so that the great 735 smallpox epidemic probably was the first of its kind. Yet peril from earthquakes, typhoons, tidal waves, and volcanoes ingrained in Japanese minds from the outset that if the rest of one’s own household were destroyed, one needed not just a clan to turn to, but an entire self-sufficient, small-scale society with a full pan-

oply of leadership and services. Later Japanese willingness to put loyalty to overlord even above loyalty to kin reflects this early recognition of needing to rely on more than merely large family group households or even clans. Japanese urgently wanted to be in a complete socioeconomic and political grouping, with enough redundancy of membership to ensure that a skeleton crew would survive any possible disaster. Only such a social system could provide for survivors of a sudden calamity, if at any time a crew of returning fishermen might find their entire village buried under an earthquake-caused landslide or a volcanic lava flow. Such frequent natural disasters also help to explain why Japanese developed and still retain a strong sense of the potency of every aspect of the natu-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 115 ral world. Just as the !Kung explained to each animal they killed that they needed its flesh for food, so the Japanese explained to every tree they cut that they needed its wood for a building, or to cook or to keep warm. This bred a habit of frugal resource use that has been a leading factor in their recent economic success. In earlier times, when Japan’s first cities were still supported by a peasantry using swidden rather than fully sedentary agriculture, family

organization reflected that frugality as well as concern for surviving all catastrophes. Documents from those distant centuries indicate that most offspring remained with their parents after marriage. Nonheir sons visited wives in wives’ homes; daughters who remained at home were visited by husbands who were nonheir sons. Only the heir (chosen by the parents as best fitted to head the household, not always the eldest) brought in a wife who left her parents’ home and was in effect adopted into her husband’s family. Even among nobles (not merely among commoners), poems, epics, and novels of the 9th to 13th centuries suggest such a structure. A large household continued until calamity

dissolved it, or until opportunity enabled some to leave it if it were large enough to be willing to let them go. The most frequent opportunity for commoners was establishment of a new village in a not yet cultivated area, usually by a noble or imperial clan member seeking added revenue. Each departing couple would begin a similar new branch household, which was regarded as a bunke or side household, an offshoot of the main or original household, the ie. Its members were expected to aid the parent household in perpetuity, with goods, with services, or even by providing a son to adopt if the ie lacked an heir. In practice, such support might continue for many generations or for only a few. Gradually, as permanent agriculture replaced swidden, those large family groups of parents, married sons, married daughters, the chosen successorson’s wife and children, and daughters’ children began to diminish. No daughter’s son was apt to become a successor unless adopted as one by a sonless uncle on his mother’s or father’s side, but life expectancies meant that this could happen often enough to give hope to daughters’ sons. Early large Japanese households decreased in size because visiting husbands began removing their wives after the marriage was firmly established. (Until then, a marriage might be rather easily dissolved, with both partners expecting to find replacements.) A husband might take his wife to his father’s home, as already visible tendencies toward patrilineality strengthened. As always, patrilineality proved useful to both overlords and followers where commoners had to do labor duty and leaders wanted clear succession lines. A husband also might take his wife to a new home in a new village or another town (for commoners), or in another seat of appointment (for the governing nobility). Japanese households, unlike those of India or China, never really divided. The main line continued, while branch lines left to start their own new, ongoing households. In such a system, small branch households averaging four or five could be common,

116 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT even though main line households might average twice that many. Because the system gave main lines supporters in other communities, it was highly advantageous in an overall environment of need to draw on large numbers, whether to ensure against natural disaster and epidemics or to meet overlords’ labor demands. The probable quadrupling of population from A.D. 800 to 1500 strongly suggests that nobles and emperors (whom nobles came to control rather than obey) were pressing commoners hard for both goods and services. In an age of building cities and temple complexes, both for the indigenous Shinto (Way of the Gods) faith and for the newer Buddhist faith introduced from China at the same time as Confucian thought, that pressure appears to have been insistent enough to parallel the 700 years from 1100 to 1800 in China when population approximately quadrupled from more than 100 million to more than 400 million. Yet Japan’s quadrupling came about under the easier circumstances of a land relatively uncrowded as quadrupling began. Buddhism’s promise of release from everyday worries through developing trust, compassion, and self-discipline appealed to people under pressure in Japan, much as it had appealed earlier in China. Confucian moral precepts at the level of family life fitted the growth of patrilineality. At the level of public life, they fitted a growing centralization of authority, not in emperors’ hands, but in the hands of noble warriors victorious over rivals and then recognized by emperors. A succession of victors tried in vain (until one managed it in 1600) to end strife among locally powerful nobles, which markedly resembled strife among locally powerful nobles then going on in much of western Europe. Japan’s equivalents to western Europe’s manors lacked weaving halls to remove young women from their parents’ homes. Japan’s comparative remote-

ness from Asia’s mainland meant that Japan’s equivalents to western Europe’s manor lords were initially isolated from opportunities for external trade. Trade and then towns eventually developed at harbors where external trade could be carried on. When centralization moved forward enough after 1600 for representative population registers to become available again, women’s marriage ages were about 20 or a little more—not in the teens, as in many other parts of Asia, or even before the teens (initial ceremony, not consummation), as in much of India. This presumably reflects an expectation of more than 25 additional years of life at age 15 (Kobayashi, II] 1967). Earlier periods, when life expectancies for both sexes in Japan were shorter, probably saw a pattern of relatively early marriage for both sexes dictated by shorter expectancies and made possible by large family group households. Marriage might have been a little later, early in the 8th century A.D., when those of both sexes who reached 5 could expect to reach almost 40 (for women) or a little over 40 (for men), but the shorter expectancies brought by epidemics probably pushed marriage into the teens for several centuries. Enough literary laments about the plight of the poor survive from the centuries before 1500 in Japan to make clear that quadrupling population in 700

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 117 years severely strained the resources of individuals, families, and the society as a whole. As in India and China, marshalling reproductive forces fairly early to ensure against disaster did not mean wanting them to be fully used. Selective neglect certainly seems to have been practiced in the early 8th century A.D. Whether female infanticide also was used is hard to ascertain, but by the 18th century selective infanticide clearly was practiced against females in some situ-

ations and against males in other situations. Buddhist monasteries provided an alternative to remaining at home for men left short of possible wives by early female deaths. Buddhist nunneries could remove some potential mothers from reproductive activity. So could female entourages for the powerful, though they tended to be smaller than those on Asia’s mainland. Confucian disapproval of widow remarriage (not previously condemned) might discourage widows from remarrying, once Buddhist nunneries gave an alternative to staying in a husband’s, father’s, or brother’s home. Acceptance of divorce and remarriage still interrupted childbearing for some women, but growing accept-

ance of Confucian moral teaching increasingly limited both that and widow remarriage among the small elite. Cities came late to the Japanese, later even than to Southeast Asians. The expectation of another approximately 35 years for those who reached 5 just after A.D. 735 in Japan, before either cities or epidemics had appeared, may suggest northern Southeast Asia’s situation before the age of regional cities began there, shortly after A.D. 0. There, too, early agriculturalists were moving from swidden agriculture to village life, in an area with a relatively mild climate and relatively few malarial swamps or river deltas. When they did move into malarial areas, they quickly developed architectural styles with floors well

above the height at which mosquitoes usually fly. If early Southeast Asian villagers could anticipate 35 more years at age 5, then marriage at around 20 for both sexes would have been reasonable. It also would fit not only bilaterality (prominent in later Southeast Asian life), but matrilineality and duolineality as well (both noted among some peoples of the region by the time written records document social patterns between 200 B.c. and A.D. 1500). The pattern of long lactation reinforced by abstinence, ensuring protein for toddlers as well as for infants, clearly was in place by the time Europeans observed Southeast Asians in the 16th century. It must surely have played a large part in preventing numbers from rising as rapidly as in Japan. Southeast Asians took 1,500 rather than 700 years to quadruple in numbers, from less than 5 million in A.D. 0 to under 19 million in 1500 (McEvedy and Jones, II] 1978), not much more than the 17 million then living in far smaller Japan. Diet and other socioeconomic factors making for smaller numbers of children per couple in largely monogamous Southeast Asia (where small age differences at marriage could not support much polygyny) have already been discussed. To the degree that contemporary observations may apply, it is worth noting that a small inland Malay group who still lived entirely by forag-

118 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ing until only a few years before being studied averaged five births per woman aged 40 to 49, with almost four still living at the time of interview. Another small inland Malay group who had turned to swidden agriculture about a generation earlier averaged almost six births; yet they, too, had only almost four alive at the time of interview (Gomes, in Arce and Alvarez, XVII 1983). Pre-

sumably, the risks of settled life (primarily increased exposure to disease) killed more than the risks of forager life. These figures contrast with almost seven born (about 4.5 of whom were still living) to Karen lanquage—group women past reproductive age in a part of northern Thailand, though their Lua-speaking neighbors averaged not quite five births and had three still living (Kunstadter, in Harrison and Boyce, II 1972). Both groups depended only on

lactation and abstinence for spacing, but they clearly had made different choices about how to use those techniques, suggesting how people might have responded to pressures felt as city-based governments’ influence expanded. Karen had been tenants to Lua until a few years before the study, when the central government released them from that tenancy. Karen may have felt a need for more children to meet their tenant obligations, whereas Lua may have preferred limiting numbers to lessen risks that surplus offspring

could not maintain a more elaborate style of life appropriate to elite rentreceivers. Such an interpretation is reasonable in an overall cultural context (not only in Thailand, but in all of Southeast Asia) in which self-control— clearly evidenced by long birth spacings resulting from long abstinence—is a

virtue prized above all others as the hallmark of the truly superior person, whether man or woman. With polygyny in Southeast Asia effectively limited to large female entourages for rulers and a few other powerful men, the long abstinences reported by Europeans in the 16th and 17th centuries almost undoubtedly put empha-

sis on general self-control at the core of early Southeast Asian life and thought. Self-control would be essential to preparing for periods of abstinence. As Hinduism, Buddhism, and Islam were brought to Southeast Asia from India and Southwest Asia, and as Confucianism influenced Vietnam and

regions beyond, their teachings on self-discipline appear to have attracted Southeast Asians most. Caste’s rigidities did not fit more socially open, less physically crowded, and probably somewhat more disease-free societies in Southeast Asia, just beginning to know city-led systems. Hinduism, therefore, flourished only in densely peopled Bali, which had probably three times as many people as Java by A.D. 1600 (Reid, in Owen, XVII 1987a). Bali blended Hinduism with Buddhism in a way that stressed self-discipline through preparing for and taking part in elaborate worship rituals. When Khmer leaders in the middle to lower Mekong basin used the laws of Manu as a basis for their legal code, their recognition of reciprocity between men and women led them to uphold completely monogamous lifelong faithfulness for both spouses, forbidding remarriage to widowers as well as to widows.

Theravada Buddhism soon attracted many Southeast Asians (as it had

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 119 already drawn Sri Lankans), whether in place of Hinduism, in place of Mahayana Buddhism, or as a first exploration of new beliefs to supplement local traditions. Theravada Buddhism called for self-discipline, self-reliance, and compassion, in that order, as ways to overcome the world’s perils. This differed from putting trust first, then compassion, and self-discipline after compassion, as Mahayana Buddhism (which took root in China, Korea, Viet-

nam, and Japan) tended to do. Mahayana teachings spread throughout Southeast and East Asia by A.D. 500; but their lack of emphasis on selfdiscipline and self-reliance apparently did not fit most Southeast Asians’ needs, though their emphasis on trust helped them fit into Confucianinfluenced societies. As Theravada Buddhism spread from royal courts to ordinary people after the 12th century, it became customary among Burmese,

Thai, Khmer, and Lao for all adolescent males to prepare for manhood by studying for a time ina Buddhist monastery where they would be instructed in the virtue of self-discipline and given suggestions for developing it. In A.D. 1991, Thai women still preferred husbands who had lived as monks for a time

during adolescence. , In most of today’s Malaysia and Indonesia, Muslim rather than Buddhist teachers won those who found Hinduism too rigid, or local traditions no

longer satisfying in a more complex society. Most of these Muslim missionar-

ies were from India rather than Southwest Asia. They brought an alreadyfashioned blend of Hindu admiration for asceticism with fundamental Muslim teaching. They, too, offered religious instruction with a respected spiritual guide as preparation for full manhood, though not as formally as Buddhist monasteries did. Most of those who accepted Islam, as it entered the daily life

of both Malays and Indonesians after 1200, were drawn by that guidance. Muslim missionaries had barely reached the southernmost of the future Philippine islands when Spanish conquest halted their advance in the 16th century. Southeast Asians sought and found in Islam and Buddhism new supports for the self-control required to make every aspect of their social system work,

including self-control in procreation. The more rigidly castebound Hindu faith, from which both Buddhists and Indian Muslims had adapted their teachings about abstinence and self-control, only survived on crowded Bali. With cultural traditions that still kept birth spacings longer and births fewer than in neighboring China or India at A.D. 1500, Southeast Asians had little

need for other reproductive checks. Buddhist monasticism for both sexes, large female entourages for the powerful, and availability to both sexes of divorce (which could interrupt a woman’s childbearing) took up whatever slack was left in northern Southeast Asia. Still, divorce was by no means frequent in Theravada Buddhist areas, for easy divorce would not be compatible with valuing self-discipline. Any remaining slack for Malays and Indonesians was taken up by more frequent divorce (under Muslim law, but with more acceptance for a woman’s seeking it than in Southwest Asia, North Africa, or India); some polygyny, legal for Muslims; and large female entourages for rulers and

120 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT their high officials. Because the people of the future Philippines only became involved in city-led life when the world city of Madrid founded Manila where a

few Chinese traders had settled on the island nearest China, they will be looked at later rather than here. As epidemics swept across Southeast Asia—note Balinese acknowledament of the fearsomeness of plague, smallpox, and cholera—they, too, became part of the unconscious system of keeping numbers in balance with resources. Plague presumably reached Bali in the 11th century A.D. from its Burma-China borderland home through trade between Indonesia and south-

ern Burma. Smallpox probably entered in the 15th century from India or Southwest Asia with Muslim traders or missionaries, since Balinese associated

it with Muslims, and therefore refused conversion when other Indonesians were accepting Islam. Cholera apparently was unleashed in the 19th century from its Bengal homeland as Bengal’s external trade increased. Given these scourges’ periodic inroads and the persistence of abstinence-maintaining cultural patterns, readily usable agricultural land with good rainfall or potential river irrigation was still available in the 20th century in much of Southeast Asia, making it almost unique in Asia. Elsewhere, any readily usable agricultural land was filled by A.D. 1900 at latest, and usually much earlier.

Southeast Asian women were trusted to control their own fecundity through abstinence, which also was expected of their partners and supported for both men and women by religious and cultural instruction in self-control. Disease certainly was present in the region, but neither epidemics nor cities nor labor-requiring rulers brought demands for many births on Southeast Asian women. Southeast Asian households’ tendency to include not more than one married offspring suggests that large family group households did not seem as necessary as in India, China, or Japan. Without early starting or relatively short spacing, no need was felt for harshly limiting natural fecundity when births were not immediately needed to respond to a catastrophe. This contrasts greatly with much of Africa from Egypt southward and parts of Southwest Asia, where clitoridectomy came to be used. Removal of the clitoris, and in some regions of Africa part of the labia as well, left scars that made both intercourse and birthgiving difficult. African women in many agricultural or pastoral societies south of the Sahara also were expected to limit their fertility through lactation and abstinence. In the long run, more infants would live to be useful family and household members if they were lactated for about three years. African women, however, abstained in a very different context from Southeast Asian women. In strongly polygynous African social systems, a woman's husband was not expected to join her in abstinence. Making intercourse harder for her than for him could seem a reasonable way of making that acceptable to her. It is surely too simple to suggest that men projected their recognition that a woman might justifiably resent her partner’s not abstaining with her onto female capacity for desire. It is surely too easy to suggest that men wanted to

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT , 121 control female desire by removing its outward sign because they realized that their own capacity for desire (not the woman’s) was remaining unchecked. It is surely too pat to see men’s guilt feelings in treating clitoridectomy as a counterpart of circumcision, a needed preparation for a proper reproductive life, even though circumcision was meant to make intercourse easier for a man and clitoridectomy was meant to make it less desired by a woman. Yet it is a tempting set of thoughts (Hosken and Arch, XXIX 1976; Lightfoot-Klein, XXIX 1990). Nonetheless, it should be recognized that women could indeed find it easier to practice abstinence with the clitoris removed (Caldwell and Caldwell, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981), and could even find it in their hearts to

claim moral superiority over men through voluntary acceptance of clitoridectomy as a way to increase their capacity for self-control. Men might not accept that claim, but their nonacceptance of it would only strengthen its appeal

for many women. In the disease-ridden environment of Africa south of the Sahara, women were expected to start reproducing as early as possible. This could increase their average number of births by almost two compared with Southeast Asian women. Not only disease, but the institution of slavery increased the need for more births felt by households in Africa south of the Sahara. Slave-taking began almost 5,000 years ago, as Egyptians moved south up the Nile to trade and raid. Slave-taking by outsiders continued to expand until just after A.D. 1800. Moreover, by the 11th century A.D., when Muslim Arab travelers began writing about cities on the Senegal River, the Niger, and the upper Nile, local rulers regularly used slaves to cultivate their lands and do tasks around their courts. Slavery was all too natural in economic systems that scarcely knew wage labor, lacking coinage for the most part. Thus by at latest A.D. 1000, every nonslave household below royal level had to recognize that raid, requisition, or retributive justice for a crime (whether committed or only alleged as a pretext) might take members into slavery. Raiding could even touch a royal

family. Moreover, slave households like those of hereditary cultivators in much of west Africa’s interior always had to be ready to see members removed

for other tasks. Disease and slavery combined to force agricultural and pastoral Africans south of the Sahara toward the largest possible family group households, with as many adults (as many as possible of those born into the family and as many as possible of their spouses, regardless of whether the society were patrilineal,

duolineal, matrilineal, or bilateral) and as many children as kinship bonds could bring together. These enlarged family group households’ primary purpose was to spread risks of all kinds, even more than to spread resources or tasks. Large consanguineal family group households were clearly wanted for survival in the face of disease, slavery, and leaders’ demands. Such demands were much greater in large, city-led states like those of the Niger and Senegal valleys, which formed the southern termini of transsaharan trade routes by at least the 10th century A.D., than in small, self-sufficient communities of only a

122 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT few villages. Still, large consanguineal family group households seemed as essential everywhere in agricultural and pastoral Africa south of the Sahara as

early Japan’s system of main line and branch line family group households

seemed there, whether the Africans’ kinship system were patrilineal, duolineal, matrilineal, or bilateral. Large consanguineal family group households made early marriage and motherhood workable, with mature women present to help inexperienced mothers. Polygyny strengthened that set of helpers, as well as giving older women added younger helpers for other tasks. In another partial parallel to early Japanese defenses against natural disasters through associating every noble clan with a full set of commoner clans, even larger resource-sharing relationships also were set up between pastoralists and agriculturalists, or between agriculturalists and foragers, who exchanged forest products for villagers’ foodstuffs. Some foragers were pastoralists who turned to foraging rather than be absorbed by a large, new pastoralist group coming into their area, like Okiek in Kenya in later centuries after the Maasai arrived (Chang, in Leacock and Lee, II 1982). The high fertility already noted by Arab travelers in Africa south of the Sahara (even before Europeans arrived in the late 15th century A.D.) was needed to counteract high disease mortality and to meet labor demands from outside the household. Yet practices like clitoridectomy, with its dangers for birthgiving, suggest underlying fear of overshooting but not being able to pull back. Some overshooting is necessary where risks are high, to ensure that enough members in a family group can survive calamity to carry on afterward; but one wonders whether all those born were wanted, when one looks at the contemporary Kado in inland Nigeria. They give only water to newborns (not even sweetened water, as in parts of India where this also is done), and selectively at that—males two full days, females three full days—rather than the immunity-building colostrum that precedes the first milk. The Kado also cut off the tip of the uvula before letting the infant nurse, which probably reduces its capacity to suck (McKee, in McKee, III 1984). For such life-threatening customs to develop and continue, there had to be a strong urge to weed out all but

the hardiest of those born. Custom also might lessen mothers’ future birthgiving capacity. Among the Hausa, very hot water is poured into the birth canal after a birth (Ohadike, in Leridon and Menken, III 1977). Though this lessens infections, it may leave scars that can make future births difficult, moderately restricting total fertility. If earlier practice resembled the extremely heavy agricultural work loads of many African women observed in more recent times, resulting leanness could protect against pregnancy. Differences in women’s agricultural work load appear to explain 86% of the differences among six contemporary African societies’ levels of fertility (Handwerker, II 1983). Work loads could thus be part of a widespread African system for keeping fecundity ready to use yet limited, alongside lactation, abstinence, periods of being unmarried because of divorce or widowhood, and (where applicable) results of either clitoridectomy or ve-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 123 nereal disease contracted in a system of circulating partners. Members of large female entourages, on the other hand, appear likelier in Africa than elsewhere

to have entered formal marriage or some other assignment to a genitor for procreative purposes at some point in their lives. What made a woman’s work load heavy was the general expectation that she would grow much of her own and her children’s food on the land cleared by her husband. In bush-fallow hoe agriculture, found in much of Africa south of the Sahara, men normally clear the fields, but women hoe them. Fields can

be recycled in less than ten years, but never less than six, even with undemanding root crops like yams, calorie-providing but nutrient-poor. Such a short cycle is possible because repeated hoeing roots out grasses as well as weeds. Bush-fallow hoe agriculture can feed at least as many per unit of land as short-fallow plow agriculture, but not as many as annual-crop hoe or plow agriculture. Co-wives were welcome as burden-sharers in a bush-fallow system, rather than unwelcome as husband-sharers, for they could release each other for

periodic field work by rotating household tasks. Such a pattern relieved polygynous husbands of work loads that would have made widespread polygyny hard to maintain. Moreover, where men were more apt to be taken as slaves than women, a bush-fallow system protected co-wives from being left

stranded as long as their husband had already cleared their fields. Where women were more apt to be taken than men, it could mean added work for other women in the household, but women who took in the bereft children could then expect their help. Mobile pastoralists and foragers were less apt than cultivators to be taken as slaves, which may be why displaced pastoralists like the Okiek preferred foraging to agriculture. Neither pastoralists nor foragers probably had as many births per woman as villagers, nor was clitoridectomy apparently practiced as

widely among them as it eventually came to be among cultivators. Even pastoralists with fairly high levels of polygyny made relatively little use of clitoridectomy. Matrilineal agricultural peoples appear to have been less apt to practice it than others, patrilineal agricultural peoples a bit more apt to do so. Tension between villagers’ expectation that women would work in the fields and traditional Arab Muslim expectation that wives would not be active outside the home was a stumbling block for early Muslim missionaries south of the Sahara after the 10th century A.D. So was Muslim limitation to four wives at most. Local traders and pastoralists accepted Islam earlier than agricultural

populations, but by 1500, most Africans in a broad band from Senegal to Sudan and Somalia became Muslims, like people in North Africa before 800. Ethiopia’s Christian-dominated highlands were the major exception. When agriculturalists did accept Islam, it often was because their rulers had already done so and were encouraging or even requiring them to convert too. Villagers were apt to continue many earlier beliefs and practices, much as pagani, pagans, villagers, in Rome’s empire continued many earlier beliefs and prac-

124 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT tices when emperors’ conversion meant that they, too, were expected to accept Christian teaching. Tension between local belief and more orthodox Mus-

lim teaching eventually gave rise to vigorous reform movements, which affected family life in many African Muslim communities on both sides of the Sahara in the age of world cities; but the first period of conversion south of the

Sahara saw little change in earlier practices. Nominal general acceptance of Islam probably meant less to west or east African households than increasing ties among North Africa, Southwest Asia, and Africa south of the Sahara. Rulers and great landholders from Morocco to Mesopotamia used those ties to acquire more and more African slaves, to replace some of the unhappy villagers who avoided rulers’ or landlords’ demands over the centuries by entering pastoral life. Even before the Atlantic slave trade began in the 16th century A.D., potential losses to slavery must already have increased pressures for patrilineality, polygyny, early childbearing, and high rather than low overshooting in terms of wanted births. Need for risk insurance against slavery forced overshooting far above what might have been dictated by disease threats, or by overcrowding sufficient to lead to the rise of strong and demanding elites. The added burden of an unpredictable levy of lifetime labor duty in slavery—whether the slave came from a slave household, became a slave as punishment, or became a slave through capture— made high fertility almost constantly mandatory in Africa south of the Sahara. Overshooting as risk insurance probably also affected the growth of agricul-

tural populations in the Americas. The original immigrants’ descendants probably did not exceed a million until some time after agriculture first appeared in central Mexico and the Pacific Andean slopes of northwest South America. As swidden gave way to combining a fertilized garden with rotation among unfertilized outfields, and then to full continuous cultivation, stages of population growth can be seen in the Tehuacan valley in southeast Mexico. Density apparently increased from 1 person per 200 square kilometers (km?) in 7000 B.c. to 1 per 45 km? in 5000 B.c., 1 per 7 km? by 3000 B.c., almost 1

per 2 km? by 1000 B.c. (shortly before the first cult centers that could be termed incipient cities), and sharp rises to more than 11 persons per km? by A.D. 700 and more than 36 per km? by 1500, approximately as high a density as in Italy in 1300 when it was still Europe’s most densely populated country (Sanchez Albornoz, XXVII 1974). Corn and beans, the staple crops, provided a protein-balanced diet even if animal protein was not available, but without animal protein, the diet would be short of minerals. The Tehuacan valley was not the most densely peopled part of Mexico by A.D. 1500. The development of floating garden-islands by about A.D. 1000 in the Valley of Mexico's shallow sweet lakes enabled that region to support the densest population in the Americas. Scarcely more than an acre of floating garden-island was needed to feed a family unit of four to six (Bray, in Ucko and

others, III] 1972). The western coastal plain of northern South America with its access to fish and shellfish protein could probably have supported densities

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 125 in the same general range as those of Tehuacan over the centuries. So could the terraces of the Andes, with potatoes, corn, and quinoa to form a proteinbalanced diet, or the largely swidden-based, tuber-growing agriculture (supplemented by hunting and fishing for protein) of the lowlands from Yucatan southeast, which were provinces of the great Maya empire. Mayan population and perhaps that of some Peruvian regions peaked in the 10th century A.D. rather than later. From the 4th to 10th centuries A.D., the Mayan empire encouraged settled agriculture, particularly in Guatemala, where intensive corn cultivation could yield almost as much per day of labor as wet-field rice; but population evidently grew too large for the combination of swidden and continuous cultivation promoted by Mayan leaders. The population began scaling precipitously downward—partly from epidemic deaths in a malnourished population, partly from flight beyond Mayan officials’ reach (paralleling Southwest Asian peasants who turned pastoralists to escape Roman, Byzantine, Arab, or Turkish rulers’ demands)—and agriculture returned entirely to swidden (Sanders, in Spooner, III 1972). One literal measure of how oppressive rulers’ demands may have been for ordinary Mayans between A.D. 300

and 900 comes in an average difference in height of 7 centimeters (2.75 inches) between elite men and ordinary men, as found in burials (Harris and Ross, II 1987). Adequate protein in the diet makes a difference in stature, as Japanese parents of the 1960s learned from seeing their children tower over

them by age 12 or so. In the Valley of Guatemala in the center of the Mayans’ Guatemalan domain, numbers evidently doubled about every 250 to 300 years from about 1200 B.c. to A.D. 800. As the Mayan system collapsed, population started halving every 250 years or so, reaching about 20% of its peak level by A.D. 1500. In Guatemala’s western highlands, a similar pattern of growth can be traced from about 1000 B.c. to A.D. 800. From about A.D. 800 to 1200, villages divided and scattered, only to be brought together again after 1200 asa new empire arose in the area. By the mid—15th century, this empire may have

held about as many people as Mexico’s central plateau, which had already risen to 500,000 by 100 B.c. and was well past 5 million by the 15th century A.D.; but by 1500, the Guatemalan highland empire’s population appears already to have begun declining (Sanders and Murdy, in Carmack and others, XXVII 1982). Mexico’s central plateau was then the heart of the Aztec empire, the latest of a long line of powerful states centered on that region. It shared with its Toltec predecessor the dubious distinction of relying on frequent human sacrifice as part of its religious rituals. Whether this meant that

overpopulation was a problem (Sanchez-Albornoz, XXVII 1974) or that human meat was being used to supplement a protein-short diet (Harris and Ross, II 1987), feeding more and more people evidently was regarded as more and more difficult. In view of the Tehuacan valley’s clear experience with

three distinguishable cycles of population increase, soil erosion (probably from deforestation), and decrease, from the beginning of agriculture to the be-

126 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ginning of a fourth cycle by the 15th century A.D. (Sanchez-Albornoz, XXVII 1974), all of the Americas’ agricultural regions may have gone through similar cycles at locally varying periods. Some areas, like Guatemala, may even have

been heading toward new downturns from overcrowdedness around A.D. 1500. Warming and cooling trends felt in both China and Europe before and after about A.D. 1200 apparently affected North to Central America as far south as Guatemala. Newly agricultural peoples in what is now the southwest United

States occupied many new sites in the uplands between A.D. 900 and 1100 (Plog, in Swedlund, I] 1975). Expanding numbers in better-watered lowlands evidently forced some to seek new fields. More new sites were occupied as cooling set in, to try to accommodate existing numbers. Hopeful settlers at Grasshopper Pueblo in Arizona in about A.D. 1275 undoubtedly anticipated a better life as new settlers joined them over the next 50 years, but infant mortality rose as the generations passed. By A.D. 1400, the site was deserted, as presumably discouraged survivors moved elsewhere (Longacre, in Zubrow, III 1976). Agriculture raised probable life expectancies estimated from burial finds, from about 19 at birth and under 15 more years at age 15 among foragers at Indian Knoll in Kentucky around 3000 B.c. (Thornton, XXII 1987) to just over

21 at birth and just under 21 more at age 15 for cultivators at Dickson Mounds in Illinois around A.D. 1200. Expectancies at Dickson Mounds may have been somewhat greater before A.D. 1200 and somewhat shorter afterward; yet they remained longer than in the less agricultural group at Libben in Ohio from about A.D. 1050 to 1200, with almost 20 years at birth and almost 19 more at age 15. Dickson Mounds expectancies also were slightly longer than those for a tidewater Virginia group just before the 16th century A.D., at barely over 21 at birth and under 20 more at age 15 (Storey, XXII 1985). Warfare, tuberculosis, and human sacrifice may have led in part to these relatively

low expectancies (Johansson, XXII 1982), but mineral shortage in a diet based on corn and beans, resulting in low resistance to infectious and degener-

ative diseases, may explain more. Local conditions could vary. Pecos Pueblo in New Mexico showed more than 27 years of life expectancy at birth and about 26 more at age 15 during the 900 years from A.D. 800 to 1700, suggesting that its people kept both their

diet and their numbers in remarkably good balance for that time and place. However, Hiwassee/Dallas in the years around A.D. 1200 showed such high early and midlife mortality that life expectancy was under 15 at birth and only 16.5 years more at age 15, almost like commoners in a dwelling complex in Teotihuacan (the capital of the Toltecs’ predecessors) during the cool years of A.D. 550-700. Greater crowding in the region and the city, as well as coolness, may have contributed to those commoners’ decline in life expectancy from almost 20 at birth and almost 21 more at age 15 in A.D. 300-550 to just over 14

at birth and a little over 17 more at age 15 in 550-700. Fewer than 40%

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 127 reached age 15 (as at Hiwassee/Dallas several centuries later), rather than more than 50%, as in several other populations, among which Pecos Pueblo even surpassed 60% (Storey, XXII 1985). Overall average birth expectancy for North Americans in agricultural populations north of Mexico before A.D. 1500 may have been 18 to 19 for males and 17 to 18 for females, but only 16 to 17 for males and 14 to 15 for females in nonagricultural populations (Jaffe, XXII 1983). The Lenape of the Delaware River valley may well have married their sons at 17 or 18, their daughters at 13 or 14, in view of such low expectancies (Becker, XXII 1987). To the dearee that these groups parallel the ex-

perience of foragers and plant-dependent cultivators in Central and South America, fairly early marriage might have been common for both men and women throughout the Americas before Europeans came in A.D. 1492. That would not necessarily be true for people either on the east or west coasts, where fish and shellfish could supplement plant-centered diets. Foragers probably continued to have fewer children than agriculturalists, if Kutchin in the Old Crow region in northern Canada before the establishment of the first trading post in A.D. 1912 are seen as representative. Their total fertility rate (the average number a woman reaching age 49 would bear if she gave birth from age 15 onat ordinary rates for all women at all ages from 15 to 49 in her society) proved to be only 4.4 when older women were interviewed some years later (Roth, XXII 1981), even less than !Kung or Gainj. Agriculturalists probably began to have more children under their leaders’ pressure, judging from changes in density and numbers estimated for Mexico and Guatemala after about 1000 to 1200 B.c. Yet patrilineality did not come out of leaders’ pressure as consistently in the Americas as in Africa and Eurasia. The Aztecs followed it; but duolineality prevailed in the empire of the Inca when Europeans arrived there after A.D. 1500. Whatever living arrangements family units had, their ties with kin were always very close, regardless of whether they were in a powerful state, a selfsufficient group of villages, or a band of foragers. Marriages probably were unmade and remade more easily outside of powerful states, since their unmaking and remaking could affect a household’s capacity to provide any required goods and services. If human sacrifices were a sign of overcrowding in Aztec domains, the cold bath for newborns found in Peru by the early Spaniards suggests that not all children born in Inca domains were necessarily wanted. Neither female infanticide nor selective neglect can be convincingly shown—both youths and maidens were among the human sacrifices offered by Toltecs, Aztecs, and those neighboring peoples who took up their beliefs and practices in varying degrees—nor is there much evidence of strong reliance on polygyny or large female entourages. Yet when local reactions to European conquerors’ labor demands after A.D. 1500 are considered, it is worth at least a passing thought that indigenous Americans’ contributions to their own depopulation in agricultural centers from Mexico to Peru, as reported

by Spanish observers—attempting to avoid having or raising children,

128 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT rather than see the children grow up to be controlled as they were being controlled—might have been a new round of an old cycle. They might have been repeating something previously done when life became too grim to

bear, rather than displaying such reactions for the first time. Perhaps 35 million lived in the region of Mexico and Central America in A.D. 1500 (Denevan, in Denevan, XXII 1976), probably more than had ever lived in Southwest Asia until then and perhaps almost as many as were then in all of Africa south of the Sahara (McEvedy and Jones, III 1978). Perhaps another 20 million or even more were living in South America in 1500 (Denevan, in Denevan, XXII 1976), only a little more than in Southeast Asia. All but about 5 million of those would have been concentrated in the Inca empire. Perhaps about 2 to 3 million were living in the broad territories north of Mexico. If there were 50 million or so in the great agricultural centers, they could indeed have been becoming crowded for the kinds of agriculture they were practicing. If others’ larger estimates are more nearly correct, figures for the regions from Mexico south should be doubled and figures for the region north of Mexico should be multiplied to 10 million or more. The argument for incipient over-

crowding from Mexico to Peru would then become even stronger, for the Mexico-to-Peru region would have had more people than Europe at that time. In any case, it seems clear that whatever the nutritional condition of foragers

in the Americas may have been when Europeans first arrived—and burial finds suggest malnutrition-facilitated tuberculosis as a longstanding scourge among them (Johansson, XXII 1982)—the nutritional and general condition of agriculturalists in the great population centers surely made them doubly vulnerable to new diseases, when Europeans brought them from the homelands of the first world cities.

os Part ‘TUT The Age of World Cities: Late 15th Through 20th Centuries A.D.

oC Chhaapter 5 Europe: Western, Mediterranean, Central, and Eastern Though Durand (III 1977) suggests that Europe held about one in six of the world’s people in both A.D. 1500 and 1975, its proportion climbed to about one in five in 1750 and almost one in four in 1900, as European populations expanded in the early energy and industrial revolutions. If descendants of Europeans who migrated overseas after 1500 are counted too, those of European ancestry were still almost one in four in 1975—as numerous as the Chinese, or the combined peoples of North Africa, Southwest Asia, and South Asia, or the indigenous peoples of the Americas and the Pacific plus the combined peoples of Africa, Southwest Asia, Pakistan, and Bangladesh. Europeans and North Americans born since 1945 (when Africans, Asians, and Latin Americans have been increasing as Europeans increased between 1750 and 1900) have wondered at the strident alarm of Islamic zealots in Libya, Iran, and elsewhere over the power of the West. That stridency is easier to understand if we recall that North Africa and Southwest Asia, the world regions nearest Europe, held only about a fourth as many people as Europe in 1900 and still hold only a third as many (about the same proportion as in 1750). It is even more understandable if we recall that in the era of the Crusades after A.D. 1000, those Islamic lands held more people than the nations from which the Crusaders came. Between the 15th and 19th centuries, Europeans multiplied by about six times (by almost eight, if Europeans’ descendants elsewhere are counted), whereas the world’s other peoples multiplied by about three times.

By 1975, even with slowing growth, Europeans at home and their descendants overseas had multiplied by over nine times since 1500. Even with a spurt in growth, others multiplied less than eight times from 1500 to 1975, but they,

too, numbered over nine times their 1500 level by 1990. When Europeans began systematically exploring the rest of the world in the

132 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 15th century, Italy and Belgium were Europe’s most densely peopled lands (McEvedy and Jones, III 1978). England, Wales, and the lands south of Denmark from the Pyrenees to today’s Austria and Czechoslovakia were next most thickly settled. Yet those areas, plus Norway, Spain, Portugal, and southeast Europe except Rumania, also grew most slowly up to 1750 (except for England, Wales, the Netherlands, and Switzerland). By 1750, Italy, Belgium, and the Netherlands were the most densely peopled areas, and Ireland joined England and Wales in the next most heavily settled areas. From 1750 to 1845, England, Wales, and Ireland grew so rapidly that they more than doubled, which brought them into the next most densely peopled group. Scotland, Belgium, the Netherlands, and the regions east of Austria, Czechoslovakia, and Poland grew next most rapidly. Famine and emigration halved Ireland’s population by 1914, but the rest of Europe (except France) continued to grow at rates that raised their numbers by 40% to 160% between 1845 and 1914. The slowing down of growth rates that first became clearly evident in France then spread across the continent. No European realm, not even the European part of Turkey, doubled in population from 1914 to 1975. Yet except for Ireland, every part of Europe was more densely settled by 1975 than any part of it had been a mere 200 years earlier, with England, Wales, Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany, and Italy most heavily peopled of all. The intensification of settlement after A.D. 1500 meant not only the diminution of Europe’s remaining forests as agriculture kept expanding, but also in-

creasing replacement of trees or grass or crops by urban buildings and roadways, and increasing smoke from chimneys in dwellings and, eventually, factories. As industrial wastes (both organic and inorganic) joined organic human and animal wastes in Europe’s rivers and its shallower underground waters, degenerative diseases caused by pollutants began to overtake contagious diseases as the leading threat to human life. The great public sanitation measures of the 19th century sharply decreased deaths from contagion at every age. Urban park systems—often and truthfully termed a city’s lungs, its source of life-giving oxygen—were established in the 19th century; larger parks were founded in rural and wilderness areas in the 20th century. These provided places for recreation and for some of the reforestation needed to help maintain both customary rainfall levels and healthful air. As the 20th cen-

tury continued, Europeans grew ever more aware of how badly industrial waste could damage their water sources and air supplies. It is not surprising that the first green (environmentally concerned) political parties appeared in long-crowded, long-industrial regions like western Germany, where industrial pollution had gone almost unregulated for generations. Nor is it surprising that a powerful underlying factor in eastern Europe’s 1989 revolt against decades of state ownership and management of industry was the singleminded focus on production, which had made state managers be inattentive to people’s needs for safety both from hazardous machinery and pollutants in the

workplace and from pollutants in their homes and daily lives. The 1986

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 133 Chernobyl disaster showed the Soviet Union’s people and leaders the need to

be more responsive to such concerns. The pollutant-killed leafless trees of parts of eastern Europe showed people and leaders there that they must change course, if they were to avert reversals of gains made in infant survival

and adult longevity through medical and public health advances. By the 1990s, peoples and leaders all over Europe were echoing the complaints of early-19th-century artists and writers in early-industrializing England against the “dark Satanic mills” and calling for elimination of the hazards they pre-

sented to all forms of life.

Those who believe that population growth results from pressure by coresident kin in a multigenerational family household are confounded by England’s rapid population growth. Already in 1601, neolocality was so much the norm there that the law only recognized obligations for mutual support between spouses and their offspring. Those who suggest that population growth results from either the presence or the absence of systems of public aid to the poor—given by the medieval Christian church throughout Europe, and then in modern times provided increasingly by governments—are confounded by

the fact that European growth took place where such systems existed, whereas growth elsewhere in more recent times has taken place mostly where they are absent. Population growth patterns interact both with household and family forms and with issues of public aid. Yet they also interact (which is per-

haps even more important) with changes in global economic patterns and with changes in technology. Peter Laslett suggests (in Wall, VI 1983) that Europe displayed four household and family patterns by the 15th century: western, eastern, Mediterranean, and middle European. The western European family pattern, found primarily from France north to Scandinavia, tended strongly toward life-cycle servanthood, marriage in the middle to late 20s for both men and women, neolocality at marriage, and 10% or more of both men and women never marrying. Life-cycle servanthood placed many young people in others’ households as workers during the teens and early 20s. This gave them enough opportunity to meet potential mates so that most of them chose their own spouses, rather than having their marriages arranged. Elite parents might control their children’s marriages into the 17th and even the 18th centuries, but by the 19th century, such controls virtually disappeared from all but royal families.

The eastern European pattern, found primarily from Albania and Bulgaria northeast to European Russia, paralleled many Asian and African patterns in contrasting with the western European pattern at almost every point. New family households normally were formed by fission (division of large existing family households) or fusion (combination of small existing family households or incorporation of a small one into a large one), not by marriage. Family households were apt to have more than one married couple, and/or one or more currently spouseless adult kin of a member of the household’s core mar-

134 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ried couple. Both men and women usually married by the very early 20s. Almost all men and women married. Servants were almost unknown, except among the wealthiest. Elders guided the marriage choices that took daughters

(and sometimes sons) out of or brought daughters-in-law (and sometimes sons-in-law) into the households that the elders led. The Mediterranean pattern, mainly found in Greece, Italy, Spain, and Portugal, was like the eastern pattern in relying far more on fission or fusion for forming new households than on neolocality; in preferring co-resident adult kin to servants as added workers in all but the wealthiest family households: and in leaving marriage arrangements primarily to family elders. In these ways, and in expecting men to marry somewhat later than women, it also resembled polygyny-maintaining patterns in much of Africa and Southwest Asia. Marriage ages for women in Mediterranean Europe were already a few years higher by A.D. 1500, however, than in Africa or Southwest Asia. By 1600, they were about as late as in western Europe. Celibacy rates for both men and women that were fully as high as those of the western pattern helped to make the system workable. The middle European pattern, found in central Europe between the Alps and the eastern Baltic regions, included both neolocality and fission or fusion as means of forming new family households. Marriage ages and celibacy rates for both women and men resembled the western European pattern. Marriage arrangements were apt to include some initial opportunity for partner choice,

though parents retained a veto. Even initially neolocal couples’ households eventually were apt to incorporate adult kin as supplementary workers if needed. Kin were preferred to life-cycle servants, who would leave after a few

years to form households of their own. Servants were for the wealthy, as in Mediterranean and eastern Europe. In the course of the 20th century, eastern, Mediterranean, and middle European patterns converged toward a new pattern that increasingly resembled the evolution of the western European pattern, as formal schooling and the first years of employment replaced a life-cycle servant pattern during the teens to mid-20s. Similar changes began to take place in other world regions. As marriage ages around the globe converged increasingly on the mid-20s for both sexes, completed family sizes converged increasingly on two to three children. This was a dramatic change from the five to seven that had marked all four European family household patterns of earlier centuries and also the patterns of most other regions. Although the beginnings of that change could only barely be glimpsed in Africa and Southwest Asia by the 1990s, it was well

under way then in most of the world. The changed conditions of the world in which Europeans, Asians, Africans, and both older and newer inhabitants of the Americas and the Pacific came to live after the 15th century required a thorough review of how both individual families and whole societies should change to meet those new conditions. Yet it has taken both large and small tragedies to force that review on people at all

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 135 levels in all regions of the world. Europeans undertook it first. That is why they will be looked at first—that, and the fact that their worldwide voyages and their subsequent commercial and political activities led to changes in the conditions of all other peoples’ lives from the 15th century onward. Voyagers from Portugal, Italy, and Spain began exploring the coasts of Africa, Asia, and the Americas in the 15th century. In the 16th, voyagers from England, the Netherlands, and France also expanded their compatriots’ commercial networks to a worldwide scale. The city-states of 16th- and 17th-

century Italy did not join Portugal, Spain, France, England, and the Netherlands in exerting political control over American lands, or in setting up Asian and African outposts. Yet they continued to trade actively with Asia through links established with the eastern Mediterranean in the crusading era. The bullion brought back to Europe from the conquered Americas, the spices and other luxury goods like silk and ivory brought back from Asia and Africa, even the slaves taken by trade or by capture from Africa to work in American mines and plantations—all of these contributed to a steady rise in commerce. Trade grew within Europe, as well as between Europe and the rest of the world. Timber, grain, copper, and iron from Europe’s north, east, and center were exchanged for salted fish from the Atlantic, or now also for spices and luxuries from Asia and Africa. William Paul McGreevey (III 1985) estimates that by 1800, people in the regions west of Poland and the Balkans (and in western Europe’s overseas offshoots in North America) had a per capita income between 150% and 350% of per capita income in any other world region. By 1950, before Japan joined the high-income countries, that gap had widened to a range of 500% to 1,100%. Measured in purchasing power per capita, these Westerners already enjoyed a living standard 150% of that of others by 1800. That became 230% by 1850, 400% by 1900, and 590% by 1950, declining only slightly to 580% by 1980. Moreover, Westerners’ large purchasing power gave them almost a monopsonistic advantage (being the only available purchaser) as well as almost a monopolistic advantage (being the only available seller) in the world’s markets. Their commercial and financial institutions eagerly used that double advantage to increase Western currencies’ value in relation to that of other currencies. In terms of what others could buy from Westerners with their products, compared with what Westerners could buy from others with Westerners’ products, Westerners enjoyed 250% of others’ per capita purchasing power in 1800. That advantage grew to 530% in 1850, 840% in 1900, 1,010% in 1950, and 1,110% (still rising, but a bit more slowly) in 1980. This difference in currencies’ purchasing power roughly doubled the already real advantage Westerners gained by increases in labor productivity after 1800. It also gave governmental borrowers in other world regions a strong argument for debt reduction as world commercial growth slowed in the 1980s, after a generation of fairly rapid (though uneven) worldwide growth in measurable market activities. The rise in Europe’s population from one in six of the world’s total in 1500

136 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT to one in five in 1750 and almost one in four in 1900, and the accompanying changes in patterns of family and household life, must be seen within the context of Europe’s economic diversification and growth. Europe’s population increase and family changes also must be seen in the context of the political centralization into functioning nation-states that made it possible to organize food transport to lessen famine’s impact, to initiate and enforce antiepidemic measures like quarantine and vaccination, and to institute governmental social services, including public education and public pensions to supplement private pension plans. Economic expansion helped to make possible a rise in birth expectancy in England from an estimated 32.8 years for those born in 1426-50 (Acsadi and Nemeskeri, II 1970) to 41.7 for those born in 1579-83 (Wrigley and Schofield, VII 1981). Yet for those born in a bad period, epidemics could slash birth expectancy in England to only 27.9 years as late as 172933. Even in 1861, the crowded northeast England factory towns with their industrial pollution and lack of sanitation offered a birth expectancy of less than 35 (Woods and Hinde, VII 1987). All-England birth expectancy never sank below 34.2 after 1759-63, however, and those born in rural villages could be protected by isolation from all but the worst epidemics. For those born from 1538 to 1799 in Colyton in Devon, birth expectancy only fell below 40 in the terrible half-century after 1650 (Laslett, If] 1977). During those years, temperatures sank all over the northern hemisphere in what historians have come to calla “little Ice Age.” Cold led to crop failure and susceptibility to dis-

ease, in the technological conditions of the time. Yet some villages, like Shepshed in Leicestershire and Terling in Essex, managed to keep up a birth expectancy as high as 46 in both halves of the 17th century—almost as high as the 49 in the United States of America in 1900, and higher than England in the 1860s and 1870s. Not until after 1870 did the all-England average again surpass the 41.7 of 1579-83. It climbed past 50 after 1900, past 60 even in the great depression of the 1930s, past 70 by 1960, and well into the 70s for both

sexes (71.6 for men, 77.6 for women) for those born in 1982-84. The years around 1600 must already have given many people in England a sense that vigorous life into at least the 50s was possible for most people, rein-

forcing the existing pattern of neolocality and late marriage for both sexes. Neolocality and late marriage also were appropriate to a socioeconomic system that had become highly centralized and monetized since Norman conquest in 1066. Many, if not most, young people worked outside the parental home for a combination of upkeep and monetary payment. This experience gave them opportunity both for courtship and for saving toward marriage. True, great landholders’ substitution of sheep-raising for grain-growing in the 16th century sent more and more villagers onto roads and into cities. Landholders were eager to increase income by meeting new levels of demand for English woolens, fueled by the arrival of gold and silver from the Americas. England’s government responded favorably to landholders’ requests for new laws, letting them enclose previously open grazing areas and otherwise re-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 137 stricting villagers’ customary access to lands formerly available for general use. The rulers enacted the new laws partly from self-interest, being large landholders themselves, and partly in recognition that taxing external trade would be easier than taxing ordinary cultivators. Only the resulting downturn of fully a third in real wages between 1570 and 1605 led at last to recognition that in-

dividual charity could no longer alleviate the growing suffering—and the growing threat to propertyholders from the more impatient—of those who thronged streets and highways because substituting sheep-raising for graingrowing left them technologically unemployed. They begged because they could find no work (in an economy with fewer rural jobs than before) or because the part-time irregular work they could find in either city or countryside paid too little to keep the members of a family. The government responded with the Poor Laws of 1601, which made each parish’s taxpayers responsible for aiding those who could not rely on spouse, parent, or child for support and could not support themselves. During most of the 17th century, the Poor Laws’ primary beneficiaries were orphans, followed by working but poorly paid parents with children, while the aged received relatively little. As real wages recovered (reaching 1570 levels by 1715), the aged replaced the working poor as the second largest group of recipients. Another downturn in real wages came at the end of the 18th century, along with growing numbers of births to parents who sought to increase total family income by increasing household earners. Children of 8 or even younger were then beginning to work in factories, as they had always worked in fields. Lower real wages coupled with more births led to the working poor again replacing the aged as the second largest group of recipients, and to a revolt by parish taxpayers against increasing expenditures. That revolt led to the New Poor Laws of 1834, which put receivers of relief into workhouses (separated by sex, thus separating families) in the name of economy and efficiency. No longer would the poor be aided in their own homes or orphans be placed in families. Real wages finally were rising by then, but so was inequality of income distribution, which kept on increasing till 1913 (McGreevey, III 1985). For at least the rest of the 19th century, life-threatening poverty continued for many who could only find unskilled or temporary jobs. The contrast between infant mortality rates in wealthy neighborhoods, steady skilled or semiskilled worker neighborhoods, and unskilled or temporary worker neighborhoods in

the industrial port of Liverpool in 1899 (Levine, VII 1987) points up that harsh reality. Wealthy neighborhoods’ infant mortality was under 70% of the all-England average; steady workers’ neighborhoods’ was almost 140% of the all-England average; and the poorest neighborhoods’ was over 250% of the all-England average. More than half of all infants in the poorest neighborhoods died before their first birthday, rather than one in five, the all-England average then (fully 20 times the all-England average of about 1% in 1982-84).

This was stunningly higher even than the appalling one in three for some pastoralists in part of Mali in the early 1980s (Hill, in Hill, XXIX 1985), for 14

138 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT German villages in the 18th century (Knodel, X 1988), for rural malarial areas

and poor districts of market towns in France in the 16th to 18th centuries (Grigg, II] 1980), and for landless agricultural workers in a remote Swedish parish in the 19th century (Brandstrom and others, [IX 1984). The relatively high real wages of early-16th-century England accompanied a hesitant growth in population (Wrigley and Schofield, VII 1981). Growth moved strongly upward after 1560, about a decade before real wages began to decline. This may mean that a fairly long period of relative prosperity had enabled many to marry and live long enough to have more children. Population

growth continued until about 1640, even though real wages remained low after declining. After 1640, numbers remained rather steady until about 1710. England’s population may even have decreased by about 7% in the years of

plague and low temperatures from 1655 to 1690, before beginning to rise again (Lee, in Rotberg and Rabb, III 1986). Population growth may have contributed to the post-1570 decline in real wages by flooding a labor market already made smaller by the turn from grain

to wool. Certainly the 1601 Poor Laws suggest that many nuclear neolocal families were hard put to make ends meet. This era of rising population and falling or continuingly low real wages might have been a natural seedbed, not only for the patriarchal dominance that marked family life for those above wage-laborer level (Stone, VII 1977), but also for the discontent that erupted politically in the 1640s with a temporary dislodging of the monarchy. The succeeding era of relatively steady population and rising real wages would then have been an equally natural seedbed, not merely for loosening paternal dominance and increasing recognition of individual needs in family life, but also for the restoration of a weakened monarchy in which the propertied (but not the propertyless) actually ruled in both political and economic life. Perhaps a con-

tinuing growth in recognition of individuals within propertied families reflected a growing sense of well-being. Once population began to grow again after 1710, it kept climbing steadily, even increasingly, through the rise in real wages to 1740, their subsequent decline to about 1800, and their recovery to

1880. Population growth only slowed when a new downturn in real wages began after 1880; but once the slowdown began, it continued throughout the improvements and downturns of real wages during the 20th century. Whatever links once existed between growth or decline in real wages and growth or

decline in population seemed to have been replaced by other, overriding forces. In the 18th and early 19th centuries, those forces pressed toward rapid

population growth, regardless of wage levels. As the 20th century approached, a new era’s overriding forces came to press toward slow or even no population growth, regardless of wage levels. The propertyless of England around 1800 could not afford much recognition of individual needs within their struggling households (Stone, VII 1977). They simply tried to put offspring to work as soon as possible. During the per-

iod when the New Poor Laws of 1834 limited public responsibility for the

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 139 poor, individuals in propertied families also were limited increasingly by the norm of paternal dominance that revived in the Victorian era. In the 20th century, slowed population growth gave some breathing room to all, and political, social, and economic reforms gave the unpropertied more protection and opportunity than before. Only then did families at all levels again approach levels of care for individual differences and needs that had come to mark many, if not most, 18th-century propertied families. England and other parts of Europe saw a reversal of mortality risks from city-worst to rural-worst between 1850 and 1950, as urban health care finally caught up with needs (Mosk and Johansson, XIX 1986). Greater protection for the unpropertied also lessened previous correlations between income and mortality risks, after the 1950s, as health insurance made health care somewhat more equally available to both

poor and rich. | Almost half of England’s agricultural work force had no claim to land by

1600, compared with about one in four in 1525 (Levine, in Levine, VI 1984), which helps to explain the need for the 1601 Poor Law. Although the propor-

tion changed little from 1600 to 1800, it rose sharply after 1800 to about three in four, once large landholders again found ways to increase their holdings. The proportion of landless agricultural workers only began falling after 1850, as the landless left for towns or a new start overseas, and as agricultural workers’ proportion in the work force also fell. Actual numbers of landless rural dwellers doubled from 1700 to 1850, in a total population that more than tripled. Urban propertyless, however, fueled both general population in-

crease and the rising numbers of unpropertied. The propertyless also had been only about one in four of 1525’s small urban population. Even in 1600, only about one in three rural and urban dwellers taken together were both

landless and without a steady trade (Gillis, VIJ 1985). Though urban propertyless grew in both number and proportion as towns and cities grew,

they still only numbered about a million in 1700, to half again as many landless rural dwellers. In 1700, a majority in England still had claims to land or a steady trade (and usually their own home), which gave them the sense of security of the propertied. Yet by 1850, urban, propertyless wage workers had multiplied 11 times, more than 5 times the growth rate for rural landless from 1700 to 1850. Rural and urban propertied together composed 14 million in 1850, almost 80% (not merely a large minority) of the total population of England and Wales. Total population multiplied by 7 times from 1525 to 1850—

total unpropertied by 23 times, total propertied by less than 3 times. Total numbers almost doubled again between 1850 and 1900, as they had from 1800 to 1850. Although emigration overseas provided some outlet, the obvious confines of an island kingdom eventually sank into people’s thinking deeply enough to bring a change. Still, it took more than a century to respond effectively to mortality declines that began in the 18th century, by finding new ways to limit births. Familiar patterns of postponing marriage to the middle to late 20s and accepting a 10% celibacy rate no longer sufficed, though they

140 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT continued until after 1930. Then the celibacy rate declined a few percent and the marriage age moved earlier in the 20s, as new forms of contraception enabled more to marry (and to marry earlier) without an unwanted rise in births. Mortality decrease contributed strongly to England’s continued population growth even after real wages began declining in the 1740s. Better grain storage and transport; the use of quarantine, which helped population continue to rise even when real wages were at a low point around 1800; the introduction first of inoculation and then of vaccination against smallpox; and eventual, though uneven, attention to both personal hygiene and public sanitation—in combination, these could overcome even a new threat like Asiatic cholera. Once it broke out of India after the introduction of the steamship, cholera became the great worldwide killer of the early through the middle 19th century. Its devastating deadliness brought birth expectancy in Poland down to 20.82 for those born in 1828-54 (Piontek and Henneberg, XI 1981). Yet even cholera finally was brought under control. Unprecedentedly rapid population growth was highly visible in England by 1800, after the fastest half-century of growth seen up to then in both rural and

especially urban populations. Between 1750 and 1799, 70% of Europe's urban growth took place in England, even though it held only 7% of Europe’s

people (Wrigley, in Kotberg and Rabb, III 1986). That is why cleray like Thomas Malthus began earnestly preaching late marriage and celibacy, and literate artisans like Francis Place began urging limitation of births within mar-

riage, as the only ways to keep England from sinking into a sea of poverty under the weight of growing population. Even rapid economic growth, as England used English and Welsh coal to manufacture textiles and ironware more cheaply than its competitors, did not provide enough for all who were born. Yet population increase speeded up for another 50 years, as increasing numbers entered the reproductive ages and reproduced at almost the same rates as their ancestors. Only at midcentury did the propertyless begin joining the

propertied in reducing births. | The propertied were first to find it hard to place many children in what they saw as appropriate careers and marriages. Costs rose sharply as formal education became increasingly needed to provide the broad, vicarious experience required to prepare for elite leadership roles in a growingly interdependent and highly varied world. As some formal education then became required of all, the propertyless found that children no longer contributed to family income at an early age, but remained noncontributing consumers long enough to make limiting their numbers advisable. Widespread public discussion preceded the 1870 Education Bill, which made schooling universally available, though local boards still decided whether it would be locally voluntary or compulsory. That discussion alerted the unpropertied to consider family limitation seriously. They began to do so despite restrictions placed on discussing methods of birth control by Victorian reformers. In their zeal to lessen procreation itself, by finding ways to deflect attention and activity elsewhere, Victorian re-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 141

they could.

formers discouraged as many forms of attention to reproductive processes as Looking back at the increasingly rapid population growth of just after 1700 to about 1850, it is easy to wonder how the propertyless could grow so rapidly. Poverty had previously gone not only with lack of access to land or a steady trade, but also with bearing fewer children than the propertied and seeing fewer children survive. Depending on wage labor, or being a proletarian who had to rely on another’s steadily (or unsteadily) providing life’s necessities, had meant marrying later, dying earlier, or both, as in 14th-century rural Halesowen (Razi, V 1980) or late-16th-century urban London (Elliott, in Outhwaite, VI 1981). Poverty meant earlier death straight through the 20th century. Witness Liverpool’s 1899 infant mortality rates, or a report that infant mortality was worst where unemployment and housing were worst in Southampton in 1977-82 (Robinson and Pinch, VII 1987), or a 1972 report that self-employed professionals in England and Wales lived five years longer and had a quarter the infant mortality rate of unskilled workers (Behm and Vallin, in Preston, II 1982). That was roughly the same proportion for infant mortalities, though around an average of 1% rather than 20%, as in Liverpool in 1899. Yet overall longevity continuously increased in the 19th and 20th centuries as adult, child, and infant mortality all declined from the 1650-1749 peak, enabling even the poor to live longer. They could, therefore, bear more children and would see more survive to marry and have their own children. As long as household income could be increased within eight years with a

new child’s earnings, poor parents wanted more children, regardless of whether they were taking advantage of higher wages or overcoming the disadvantage of lower wages. The customary practice of paying each wage worker only enough to keep him or her alone in food, clothing, and shelter virtually guaranteed poverty to any propertyless family whose children were still too young to earn. The mid-19th-century change to paying a family wage (enough to let a man’s wife stay at home to care for young children) to the breadwinner or head of the household (terms somehow applied to all men, wed or unwed, yet not applied to widowed mothers) helped to change the view of children as needed earners. Yet the family wage alone was not enough to lessen the number of children desired. (Employers may even have expected it to increase the number reaching working age, enabling future employers to threaten future workers with replacement if they sought wage increases.) Both universal education and child labor laws also were needed. Child labor laws also facilitated universal schooling, making child-rearing too costly for most parents by 1900

for them to want more than two or three. No longer were many children wanted as potential earners by unpropertied parents, whether agricultural wage workers, industrial wage workers (including miners and transport work-

ers), or protoindustrialist cottage workers in villages like Shepshed in Leicestershire (Levine, VII 1987). Shepshed cottagers gradually turned. to knitting stockings on a piecework putting-out basis, with knitting frames and

142 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT materials provided by the merchant capitalists of the time, as they became too numerous to live by agricultural day labor in the 16th century. That was when

rural numbers were increasing while the substitution of sheep-raising for grain-growing was actually lessening the number of rural jobs. Between 1500 and the early 19th century, similar cottage industrial development took place in more and more English villages. Between 1815 and 1875, however, the

changeover from piecework putting-out and worker-alone wage levels to urban factories and breadwinner or family wage levels drove cottage workers

to the towns and cities or to a new start overseas. Cottage industry enabled propertyless rural families to cope with rising numbers and falling agricultural work openings (and, eventually, falling wages) in the 16th century. Cottage industry may have continued to provide reasonably well in the 17th century, as wages rose but population growth temporarily slowed. Then a period of continuing real wage increases to about 1740 apparently encouraged cottage workers to marry earlier and have children of working age sooner. By 1750, Shepshed women cottage workers were marrying at around 23, not at around 26 as women in propertied Shepshed families did and all English women taken together had done in the 17th century (Gillis, VII 1985). As real wages declined, those earlier-wed wives began nursing infants for slightly shorter times. That increased their probable number of births even more, as they evidently tried to maintain household income by expanding household size. By 1815-16, at their peak fertility, they could expect 3.3 children to survive and marry (a full child more than the propertied), even with high early mortality. Not until the 1860s did their descendants finally begin limiting births enough to go below 2.7 per mother surviving and marrying (with 3 reaching adulthood but about 10% not marrying) out of an average of 6.16 born to each wife who married before 25 and was not widowed before age 45. The 6.16 total was not much less than the 6.53 for all England in 1550-99 (Hanawalt, V 1986), when birth expectancy was under 40, not over 40 as in the 1860s. It was, however, considerably more than the 5.84 estimated for 12 rural English parishes in 1675-1824 (Wrigley, in Outhwaite, VI 1981). With at least one in ten villagers across Europe tending to migrate each year to seek work because of lack of local jobs (Tilly, in Sundin and Soderlund, III 1979), cottage industry may have let villagers not move as often. Yet it eventually meant only that there were more who had to leave to find work. In the meantime, cottage-worker families extended their households to help the poorest by enabling them to live with those less poorly situated (Kriedte, in Kriedte and others, VI 1981). They did not try to amass and preserve a unified set of properties, as peasants with land-use rights might do. Estimates based on reconstituted family data, like those of Levine (VII 1987), may overestimate fertility by up to 15%. That is shown by a crosscheck between family reconstitution data (which leave out the full experience of those who depart from a community) and census data in Massachusetts

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 143 between 1790 and 1850 (Norton, in Dyke and Morrill, III 1980). Yet reconstitutions also may underestimate fertility in mobile populations. This might seem likely for 12 English reconstitutions showing 5.84 mean completed family for women marrying at 20 to 24 from the late 15th to the early 19th century, as compared with 6.61 to 8.26 in the four quarters of France in

1670-1769 or with 7.02 in ten German villages before 1850 (Wrigley, in Outhwaite, VI 1981). Rather than suggesting that the English were already using contraception, it seems more likely that reconstitution missed some group such as wage laborers (wanting more children so they could earn more)

because they moved more often in more commercialized England than in France or Germany; or that the French and German reconstitutions may overstate, like those checked in Massachusetts; or even that both those explanations contribute. The change to breadwinner pay alone would scarcely have brought down

the fertility of wage workers. The young also had to be transformed from earners to ever costlier consumers. By the time those changes occurred, the pattern of marrying earlier (not later) than the propertied was firmly in place for urban workers as well as miners and cottage workers. It endured until the propertied themselves began to marry somewhat earlier, as contraceptives be-

came almost universally used in the 20th century. Only after the impact of World War II losses, both in lives and in bombs’ destruction of homes, facto-

ries, and offices; only after the subsequent impact of the transformation of overseas imperial domains in Asia, Africa, and the Caribbean into selfgoverning states—only then, in the late 20th century, did the people of England and Wales go much below 2.3 per mother surviving and marrying. Then, as England lost some of its previous ability to command world markets (in purchasing commodities, selling manufactured goods, and manipulating financial instruments), English men and women at all socioeconomic levels began again to marry somewhat later. They also began to limit births even

below the minimum of 2.1 per woman needed for simple replacement. Only 1.9 births per woman could be expected for those who married after 1964 (Berent, VI 1974). Whether new immigrants, seeking better opportunities than former overseas colonies afforded, would keep on diversifying the ethnic scene while making up for those not born remained undetermined as

the 1990s opened. Problems of discrimination and poverty had not yet discouraged them from trying to come to England. Much of that discrimina-

tion came from potential landlords or employers; but much came from unpropertied descendants of 19th-century unpropertied, who faced a lesser yet still real degree of discrimination and poverty themselves. Continuing economic stresses were alleviated only slightly by women’s entry into the full-time work force in the mid—2Oth century, as rearing children ceased to be a lifelong occupation. Economic stress within households strongly contributed to a rise in divorce (once it became increasingly accessible through 19th- and 20thcentury legal changes) and to increased determination to limit births. Wom-

144 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT en’s entry into the work force also might have contributed to rising divorce rates, since they could now earn for themselves, and to falling birth rates, since childbearing could interrupt work life more than some found acceptable. As the 1990s opened, it was unclear whether the turn from the post-1945 Labour Party experiment with nationalized industry to the post-1975 Conservative

Party reprivatization of industry, coupled with active participation in the growingly united European Economic Community, could ease family and personal economic stress enough either to lessen divorce or to increase births. Growing public concern with physical abuse of children, women, and the

aged suggests that quintupling the population from 1800 to 1975 brought new psychological stresses (not merely economic ones) into family life. Greater longevity clearly meant greater complexity in English families; but even at the peak of family household complexity in England and Wales around

1875, almost no groups in any area or at any economic level showed more than one in five households with family members other than spouses and their unmarried offspring (Ruggles, II] 1987). Those households were likely to be either well-off families preserving family status by caring for kin who lacked a proper income or poverty-stricken kin combining forces to try to lessen poverty. Peak levels for extended families in an entire community, not just part of

it, were reached by Clayworth in Nottinghamshire with 17% in 1856 and Puddletown in Dorset with 18% in 1871, 16% in 1881. Actual experience of lasting togetherness evidently did not wear well in an ever more crowded yet individualistic society. Wage-worker families, more than better-off families, sought to keep close ties with kin throughout the 20th century, as in previous centuries. Yet in the era of the breadwinner wage and afterward, ties came to be kept with the wife’s rather than the husband’s kin, though still for insurance against bad times as well as for current mutual affection and services. The woman's rather than the man’s network was stressed because working-class women tended to manage their husbands’ earnings. At all levels, preference was Clearly for a separate home and an autonomous life, as soon and as late as

it could be managed. Only 0.6% of women age 60 or over lived in threegeneration households in 1982 in England and Wales (Atoh, XIX 1988). Clayworth and Puddletown levels of extended families, though high for England, were lower than in parts of prerevolutionary France. Southern France saw 21% extended families in Monplaisant in 1644 and 18% in Rognonas in 1697, with 22.5% in Mirabeau near Rognonas as late as 1745 (Laslett, Ill 1977). France also tended to follow western European patterns of neolocality, late marriage for both sexes, and high celibacy up to the 19th century. In the 20th century, France followed the general moderate modification of those patterns toward slightly less celibacy and slightly earlier marriage for both sexes. Yet France’s experience has been quite unlike England’s. Its population less than doubled between 1800 and 1975, rather than quintupling, which may have made strains less sharp within French families. Of women age 60 or

over, 4.5% (7.5 times as many as in England and Wales) were in three-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT , 145 generation households in 1982 (Atoh, XIX 1988). Divorce rates in France also remained below those of England and Wales, further suggesting lower lev-

els of stress within households. France’s longevity remained low and its mortality high until the revolutionary era after 1789, when cemeteries finally were moved out of villages and towns (Goubert, in Bengtsson and others, VI 1984). Birth expectancy soon began approaching English levels, fully catching up by 1840: 28.7 in 1756, 37.5 in 1816, 41.6 in 1846, compared with Wrigley’s estimate (VII 1987) of 36.3 in 1740-89 and 40.2 in 1830-39 in England. One result of these differences was that more than one in four marriages in 18th-century France still involved remarriage of a widow or a widower. That also had been true in 16thcentury England (Sogner and Dupaquier, in Dupaquier and others, III 1981). Probably no more than 1% of the total 5% loss in fertility resulting from 18thcentury French widowings was made up by those remarriages. Unfortunately for mortalities, France (like Germany) had both southern Europe’s gastroin-

testinal diseases and northern Europe’s respiratory diseases (Wrigley and Schofield, VII 1981). Still, the insistence on rationally organizing every aspect of life that accompanied the 1789 revolution helped to bring down mortality fairly rapidly, once national institutions effectively integrated the prerevolutionary regime. France was far less commercialized than England in 1800. High food prices deterred marriage rates in England more than in France from 1539 to 1840 (Goubert, in Bengtsson and others, VI 1984). Still, French aristocrats clearly began limiting births soon after 1700. Peasant rationality was already demonstrated in the 15th century in the Limousin region by high early mortality, as parents devoted most of their attention to their oldest living children (Biget

and Tricard, VII] 1981). Peasant rationality was still demonstrated in Normandy just before the 1789 revolution by the latest marriage ages in all of

France (Segalen, VIII 1986), both in villages like Crulai and in towns like Caen. Crulai had noticeably lower infant mortality than earlier-marrying Brittany in the 18th century (Goubert, in Glass and Revelle, II] 1972), though the few women wed before 20 in Crulai had about eight children if they remained married until 45. Peasant rationality also was demonstrated by a general increase in women’s celibacy rate from 1680 to 1780, from 5% to 13%, and bya general increase in women’s marriage ages in that period, from 24.5 to 26.5. France’s 18th-century female celibacy rate was higher than that of England in 1820 (Wrigley, VII 1987). The drawing up of written declarations of grievances and then constitutions in the revolutionary era showed that planning for the future was both desirable and possible. As peasants began emulating aristocrats’ methods of controlling

fertility, the average of 5.3 born to each married woman born in 1750 (Segalen, VIII 1986) began declining even before 1800 in some regions. Landowners in the Garonne valley, for example, clearly began to limit births between 1780 and 1799 (Houdaille and others, VIII 1987). Their sharecrop-

146 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT pers only began to limit births shortly after 1800; yet that was long before cottage workers and wage workers in England began limiting births, as a more effective protection from poverty than many children. Brittany villagers limited births in the 19th century by increasing marriage ages and lowered infant mor-

tality by better infant care. Other regions of France saw both marriage ages and celibacy decline, as birth control methods took the place of late and nonuniversal marriage in regulating family size. In a still mainly agricultural society, the French may have been responding to downturns in agricultural income as agricultural producers in the Americas began competing in European markets. In Lille, even wage workers married later (Spagnoli, [II 1983). However, they then used wet-nursing or bottle-nursing to shorten lactation, making more births possible, at least until universal schooling made that means of try-

ing to increase family income less rational. By 1840, French population growth rates had reached their relatively low peak and were heading downward. Mortality and fertility decreased roughly simultaneously in France from 1750 on, rather than mortality decline clearly preceding fertility decline, as in England and Wales. Having a slower growth rate than England’s made French lawmakers’ task easier when they enacted laws to aid the poor in the 19th century. With fewer unpropertied to provide for than in England, so that generosity could be seen as a means of defusing potential unrest rather than as an expense, French lawmakers concentrated on keeping families together by child-support allowances. They did not separate families into male and female workhouses in the name of economy and efficiency, as in Britain. France's relatively slow population growth can be linked to the lastingly low percentage of those without property or a steady trade. The unpropertied were never a majority in 19th-century France, let alone an overwhelming 80%, as in England in 1850. Even in the late 20th century, social stresses remain low enough to give France one of the lowest divorce rates in any modern industrial society and to make possible that relatively high proportion (in western Europe) of 4.5% of older women in three-generation households. In one

Brittany village, far more older people lived alone in 1975 than in 1921 (Segalen, in Wheaton and Hareven, VIII 1980), suggesting a preference for autonomous life like that found in 20th-century England and Wales; yet frequencies and types of cooperation among those villagers linked by kinship had scarcely changed. Fertility levels also do not suggest deep discontent in France. Even those women married after 1966 would bear an average of 2.3 children (Berent, VI 1974), not 1.9, as in England and Wales. More recently it is estimated that women born in 1950 who married will probably average 2.2 children (Segalen, VIII 1986). North of France, the linen-working region of Flanders in Belgium illustrates some potential effects of cottage industry on family life. Its village women married earlier than before by the mid—18th century (under 24 for those born in 1740-59 to about 25 for those born in 1680-99). They apparently wanted more workers at home, as shown by the presence of 40 nonkin among the 480

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 147 persons per 100 households in Flanders in 1796 (Hajnal, [II 1982). Still, in towns like Bruges where linen lace was made, a shortage of men might leave up to 25% never marrying in 1814 (Deprez, in Glass and Eversley, III 1965).

The missing men might have been lost in war or remained in village agriculture. Wives in linen-working areas of 19th-century Flanders bore about 4.8 children, to about 3.8 for those in other areas (Mendels, III 1972). Yet by 1880,

both rural and urban Belgian marriage ages rose (Knodel and Maynes, X 1976) well above the means of under 24 for women and about 26.5 for men born in Flanders in 1740-59 (Hajnal, III 1982). By the mid—19th century, linen faced growing competition from cotton textiles. Women’s economic contributions may even have come to seem too small to warrant caring for young girls. Mortality rates for girls from birth to age 15 became higher than mortality rates for boys between 1850 and 1900—an almost certain sign of selective neglect, since boys normally are more susceptible than girls to both diseases and accidents. The resulting deficit of young women might be expected to lower their marriage ages as young men competed for them. Yet with almost one in five of both sexes having never married by ages 45 to 49 in 1880, rates of celibacy evidently altered, rather than women’s marriage ages. When Belgium’s ruler at that time sought to put his small, poor country onto the imperial map of Africa, establishing a colony in what eventually became Zaire, he clearly was seeking opportunities for young Belgians so that they could again afford to marry. The effort only partly succeeded, judging from continuingly high celibacy rates and marriage ages well into the 20th century. Belgium began losing commercial prominence as early as the 16th century, when the Netherlands to its north began to attract Italian merchants to the Rhine delta. By 1514, more than 20% of the Netherlands population was already in towns of 10,000 or more. By 1622, the Netherlands’ urban population was almost half the total. As Amsterdam in turn lost out to London after 1650, its women began to marry later—27.8 in 1776-77 to 24.5 in 1626-27 (Jan de Vries, in Rotberg and Rabb, II] 1986). Perhaps neither parents nor potential husbands cared to place as many children in adult life as in more prospering times. London could draw on the resources of an internal market three times as populous and much more diverse in its products. Dutch traders depended on paying cheap local prices in the spice islands of today’s Indonesia for goods that fetched high prices in Europe; British traders had more re-

sources at home on which to draw. ,

A late-17th-century decline in population was not surprising in the Netherlands, faced with economic stagnation. Population decline was less understandable in England (with rising real wages and economic expansion both at home and overseas), even with a “little Ice Age.” Population stagnation continued in the Netherlands in the 18th century. That, too, was not surprising, when one considers that every year, about 2,600 men (perhaps 1 of every 200) went out to the Indies from a total population of around 2 million, raising

148 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT women’s celibacy rates and lowering overall fertility rates. A small village between Breda and Tilburg showed women born in 1705-64 not marrying until

past 28 on average, even among the most prosperous, and not until past 30 for the least prosperous. Men born in those years wed even later, perhaps because their scarcity enabled them to wait even longer to make a final choice (Schellekens, VIII 1988). Yet celibacy rates were a bit lower in the Netherlands than in Belgium, then or later. Both countries began decreasing births per marriage somewhat later than France and only slightly later than England and Wales (Grigg, III 1980). In Denmark, birth expectancy in 1780-84 was 35.3 for men and 37.5 for women, much like England (Anderson, in Bengtsson and others, VI 1984). Infant mortality in 26 rural parishes averaged 22.5% in 1741-1801 (Johansen, in Akerman and others, [X 1978). The demands of farm work meant that 104

out of 510 persons per 100 households in 1781-1801 were not kin to the household’s head couple. Use of life-cycle servants, not having more children, was the pattern in this agricultural (not cottage-worker) society. Danes hesitantly began using birth limitation after 1840, but in 1880, about 8% of rural Danes of both sexes were still unwed at 45 to 49. Rural marriages were then in

the late 20s (Knodel and Maynes, X 1976), barely higher than the lessmarrying towns, where 18% of women and 12% of men were unmarried at 45 to 49. Industrial life eventually made its own contribution to birth limitation, Danes found in 1972. That year, a study showed that increased industrial pollution had diminished the fertility of Danish men’s semen since 1952, a phenomenon observed in industrial areas around the world (Bostofte and others, IX 1983). Sweden, Scandinavia’s largest country, has Europe’s most complete parish records. Families and individuals can be traced from parish to parish, making

calculations much more accurate than estimates based on family reconstitution data from local community records in England, France, Germany, or

elsewhere. A group of five northern Swedish parishes in the 17th century shows why that era’s families had to be large (Gaunt, in Akerman and others,

IX 1978). Of 4.9 to 5.7 born per woman in those parishes, only 1.8 to 2.6 were still alive if that woman reached 60. For 5.1 to 7.3 born per man (who might take a second wife if the first died), only 1.6 to 3.8 were still alive if he reached 60. The epidemic-driven mortality regime meant that people could not risk having so few children that none would live to aid them in their own later years. Birth expectancy, about 36 for those born in the 1750s, did not

surpass 40 until after the 1820s. Between 1750 and 1850, the epidemicdriven disease regime changed to an endemic disease regime (Bengtsson, in Bengtsson and others, VI 1984). Agricultural overcrowding apparently rose, for death levels became closely correlated with grain prices. Swedes were already using high celibacy and late marriage (over 27 for women throughout the 19th century too) to keep average number of children per woman (not per wife) just under four for 1776-1800 (Grigg, III 1980). That figure suggests

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 149 that a woman who married before 25 probably bore about six, if her first mar-

riage continued until age 45. Landed peasants’ daughters might marry earlier (just under 26 in Dala parish in the southwest for 1776-1830) than landless daughters at 19.3 (Winberg, in Akerman and others, IX 1978). Yet their sons, wanting to be sure of a farmstead before marrying, wed slightly later, at 28.7, than landless sons, at 27.6. Many landless men married slightly older women. They may have expected their wives to bear fewer children; such women may have saved enough from earnings to help make the marriage possible. Of wives who reached 45 still in their first marriage, landless couples in Dala averaged only 3.44 children. Peasants with access to land averaged 4.36. Freeholders averaged 4.10, just about right in the time’s mortality conditions to ensure one male heir, but

tenants averaged 4.84. Tenants could hope that surplus sons might find a chance to rent, either from an heirless freeholder or from a great landholder who was clearing new fields by logging in the forests. Tenants also may have

feared greater child loss, in view of the experience of early-18th-century Vastmanland peasants farther north. Of those born to tenants in the more crowded coastal lands held by great landlords who demanded high rents in grain, three in five died before adulthood, in contrast to two in five of those born to peasants in less crowded lands they themselves held in the interior. Still, the landless in Dala appear to have cared better for the fewer children they had, losing only 15.8% in the first year to 20.1% for the peasants. Greater use of breast-feeding may have made some of the difference, in view of the experience of Nedertornea in the northeast in the 19th century. Infant mortality ran as high as 56% in the peak year 1835 for Finnish-speaking rural

landless, who were slow to adopt the newly recommended use of breastfeeding for the entire first year. Yet by the 1840s, more breast-feeding helped to bring infant mortality in Swedish-speaking towns in the parish down to a then stunningly low 5% (Brandstrom and others, [IX 1984). Between 1840 and 1860, overcrowding in Sweden was so obvious that previous laws against emigration gradually were eliminated. Swedes left their

homeland steadily from then to 1923, when United States immigration restrictions limited access to the most often chosen overseas destination. With 19% of all households in poverty in 1869, after the great crop failure and famine of 1867-68 (Soderberg, in Bengtsson and others, VI 1984), decisions to leave are understandable. Emigration patterns also may have contributed to the selective neglect that became evident among girls of 10 to 14 in the 1870s and girls of 5 to 9 in the 1880s. Girls would be likelier than boys to stay in Sweden to have to be provided for. Selective neglect of girls only disappeared after 1920, as emigration and early industrialization brought more sense of opportunity. Similar phenomena occurred in England and Wales, France, and Bel-

gium (Tabutin, VI 1978), and across the Atlantic in 19th-century New England. Early heavy industry's need for men’s upper-body power put women at a disadvantage, which only declined when other industrial processes be-

150 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT came mechanized, opening the way to more employment for women. Industrialization, and the opportunity it afforded women for work outside the home as it grew, also ended Swedish parents’ control over children’s marriage ages.

Swedish courting customs had for centuries given parents only a veto over children’s choices. By 1925, Swedish women were marrying at an average of not much over 22, Swedish men a little later (Mendels, II 1978). Marriage ages and divorce rates in Sweden rose after 1930. By 1984, women’s average marriage age was back to 27.3. The number who had children without marrying also rose, after Swedish social legislation in the 1920s provided equal benefits to children born in or out of marriage. Most unmarried women with children in 1975 lived in a household with at least one other adult—a consensual partner, a relative, or another woman in a similar position (Holmberg, in Bongaarts and others, III 1987). Multiple households with more than one married couple had almost disappeared from Swedish life, though they had been common in parishes like Kokar in the Aland islands in the 19th century (Mielke and others, in Lindgren, IX 1987). Almost one in three Kokar households were still multiple as late as 1880, needing workers for all the tasks required in a harsh environment. Yet 20th-century Swedes continued recognizing the usefulness of combining smaller groups into larger households for those who needed others with whom to share responsibilities. Neighboring Finland was ruled by Sweden for most of the 17th and 18th centuries. Its people apparently used early universal marriage, like their Russian neighbors, during the first century of Swedish rule. After 1750, first western and then eastern Finland moved to late marriage and more celibacy (Lutz

and Pitkanen, IX 1987), perhaps feeling crowded in a vulnerable environment. Epidemics made birth expectancies fluctuate from as high as 40.7 for those born in 1761-65 to only 26.9 for those born in 1771-75 and 27.3 for those born in 1806-10 (Mielke and others, in Lindgren, IX 1987). Efforts to

encourage breast-feeding also were lowering infant mortality by 1800 (Pitkanen, in Pitkanen, IX 1983), so the new marriage pattern may have been meant to limit numbers of surviving infants. Finland was hit harder than any

other part of Europe by the weather vagaries of the early 1740s (Post, II] 1984) and 1867 (Bengtsson, in Bengtsson and others, VI 1984). Finland’s northerly position left it more open to harvest failure from too short a growing

season, in unusually cold years, than any other land in Europe. Under Russian rule in the 19th century, Finns emigrated, rather than making further changes in marriage and fertility patterns until well into the 20th century. For those wed before 1951, 4.4 births was still the average, but that

dropped to just 2.1, simple replacement, for those married after 1966 (Berent, VI 1974). In Finland as elsewhere, the introduction of modern industry contributed to that lessening. Women working in Finnish textile plants in 1974-77 experienced 16.7 miscarriages per 100 pregnancies, half again as many as the 11.4% for all employed women in Finland (Hemminki and oth-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 151 ers, IX 1983) and 2.5 times as many as the 6.7% for all women in Aberdeen, Scotland, in the 1970s (Zimmer, II 1979). Iceland, too, could be vulnerable. The freezing of the seas around the isolated island in 1695-96 (Krause, VI 1959) and the volcanic eruption of 1783 that poisoned the soil (Hanson, in Dupaquier and others, III 1981) must have produced high mortality. Records are only available for the 1783 disaster. During 1784-86, 20% to 25% of Iceland’s people died, mainly from starvation, deficiency diseases, and smallpox. To meet the emergency, government

officials billeted lone survivors of devastated families on less devastated households (Laslett and Clarke, in Laslett, II] 1972). Those who wed—in a population that continued to use late marriage and high celibacy consistently enough so that as late as 1951, more than one in five women age 45 or over were still unwed—maintained high fertility. In 1801-1930, Iceland’s mainly nuclear farming households, with their need for chore-doers, were larger than its mainly nuclear fishing households, in which there would be fewer simple chores for children to be useful in doing (Gunnlaugson, IX 1988). Between 1853 and 1900, with infant mortality of about 20%, the few women who married before age 20 could have averaged more than nine children by age 45 (Hansen, in Leridon and Menken, III 1977). At singulate mean marriage ages of 27 to 30 during 1850-90 (which narrowed and decreased to 26 to 27 during 1901-45), that probably meant about six children per married woman reaching 45 with her first marriage still intact. (Singulate mean marriage age is a figure that takes into account the percentage still single at each age. Thus it can overstate actual mean marriage ages by a year or more in a growing population, and can similarly understate them in a declining population.) Fertility decreased in Iceland after 1900, but only after the island’s population

surpassed its previous peak (about 700,000 in the 12th to 14th centuries A.D.). Iceland’s population reached a million by 1925 and doubled by 1975, as

expanding commerce in the age of steamships and, eventually, airplanes opened new opportunities to Icelanders. The other western European countries with celibacy levels of more than 20% for women at 45 as late as 1951 were Norway, Scotland, and Ireland. When Norway was ruled by Sweden in the 19th century, its birth expectancies were much like Sweden’s; its marriage ages and celibacy levels for both men and women were much like Sweden’s; but the restrictions imposed on agricultural expansion by northern latitudes and towering cliffs meant more emigration (Drake, [IX 1969). In a population that, like Sweden’s, increased about 2.5 times from 1700 to 1850, 40% of the natural increase left between 1864 and 1914, compared with 25% of the natural increase in Sweden (Grigg, Ill 1980). Celibacy rates probably were another response to limits on agricultural expansion. In 1801, 15.3% of women had never married at age 50; in 1855, 14.3%; but then that figure rose again, not lessening until after 1951, when marriage ages also began to decline at last (Drake, [IX 1969). Marriage ages in 1856-65 were just under 27 for both rural and urban women, just over 27 for

152 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT urban men, and just over 29 for rural men. Though birth control methods were already introduced by 1850, Norwegians did not change their prudent marriage pattern until new opportunities were opened by the establishment of industry, facilitated by the discovery and exploitation of North Sea oil. Divorce remained comparatively rare until the 1980s in that late-industrializing society. Because family ties remained strong enough among Norwegians to give wives and husbands alternative psychological support, they did not place so many psychological demands on a spouse that the demands became unbearable. Continuingly strong family bonds also discouraged them from risking a sundering of linkages for their children by divorce. A rise in premarriage consensual unions after 1970 also lowered formally recognized divorce by delaying formally entered marriage until a union was firmly established, in what almost seemed like a parallel to earlier peasant practice in many parts of Europe of using a formal betrothal period as an opportunity to determine fertility before formal marriage. Now, compatibility rather than fertility was the chief

concern as a similar pattern emerged in many parts of Europe. The Scots share ambilineality with the Norse, recognizing both men’s and women’s full right to be accepted as equal members of any of their eight great-grandparents’ lines through either male or female descent. Like the Norse, Scots in the 18th and 19th centuries found agricultural expansion limited by topography and climate, at least in the mountainous north. The lowlands along the English border offered agricultural and, eventually, industrial opportunity. Fertility outran resources, particularly after the great northern landholders began raising sheep to market wool rather than letting their lands be used primarily to feed their tenants. In the era of population growth that began about 1755, northern Scottish women as well as men emigrated to the

lowlands in increasing numbers; Scottish men, more than women, left Scotland for England and its offshoots overseas. The potato (introduced in the 18th century to provide food on less land than oats, the staple Scottish grain) fell victim to blight in 1836-37, giving rise to a flood of emigration. From a population of about 2 million in 1821, which rose to about 5 million in

1939, more than 2.3 million emigrated between 1825 and 1938 (Flinn and others, VII 1977). That emigration helps to explain why celibacy rates for women were as high as in Norway, since men were more apt to leave than women. By 1861, there were only 78 men per 100 women in the entire highlands region. Small wonder that marriage ages did not decline. The mean was 23.5 for urban women in industrial-agricultural Kilmarnock parish in Ayrshire in 1745-73, and just over 27 for rural women. That resembled the 25.1 overall average for Scotland in 1961 and even the 25.8 for 1931, when men’s average ages at marriage were just under 27 and just over 28, respectively. Ages were lower for both sexes in the south (where sex ratios were more nearly equal) and higher in the north. Medians were one to two years lower than means, both for Kilmarnock in 1745-63 and for all of Scotland in 1861 and 1931,

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 153 since a few late marryers somewhat skewed the mean (a situation found in many societies). As in England and Wales, so also in Scotland, life expectancies were longest

in rural areas and infant mortality was greatest in industrial areas until well into the 20th century. As early as the 1790s, birth expectancy ranged from over 48 in the northeast to about 37 in the industrial western lowlands around Glasgow. Infant mortality in the 1790s ranged from one in eight in the northeast to one in five in the western lowlands. It remained lower in Scotland than in England and Wales throughout the 19th century; but because it did not fall as rapidly as in more prosperous England in the 20th, it was higher than the England-Wales average by the 1920s. After World War II, it declined to about the same level, about 1% in 1982-84—just over that for boys, just under it for girls. By 1986, Scottish infant mortality was again slightly lower than in England and Wales, 0.88% to 0.95%. Ireland, the other western European country with at least 20% celibacy for women of 45 as late as 1951, also was the only western European country to lose population in the 19th century. Ireland’s population halved between the potato blight of 1845-49 and World War I in 1914-18. Celibacy remained at 22% for women of 60 or over as late as 1961, when a full 31% of men of 60 or over also had never married. Most of 19th-century Ireland’s great landholders descended from the English conquerors who broke Irish clans’ power in the 17th century rather than risk their aiding England’s European foes. From then on, Irish grain profited English landholders, who sold it to feed the growing English population, especially after the English parliament virtually excluded non-British grain in 1815. Only in 1846 was grain from the Americas and eastern Europe allowed into the British market, enabling real wages in England

and Wales to begin climbing much more rapidly than in the previous few decades. Early in the 18th century, English landlords in Ireland introduced the po-

tato, so that their tenants could feed themselves on less land. Landlords wanted to encourage early and fertile marriages that would increase the number of worker-tenants, not only to grow grain, but also to grow flax and proc-

ess it into linen for the English market. This would be a new pattern, in a population previously regulated by enabling only men with access to farmsteads to marry. A potato blight in 1740 resulted in the deaths of as high a percentage of the population as died in the later and greater blight of 1845-49 (Ross, in Handwerker, II 1986). Still, the Irish began to respond by increasing women’s marriage ages only after 1815, first in the east and later in the west (Coale and others, XI 1979). Irish leaders also strove to revive the limitation of marriage to those certain of a farmstead. By the early 1840s, young Irish women were already leaving either for England or for North America in even

greater numbers than men, seeing their prospects of marriage as limited (Clarkson, in Outhwaite, VI 1981). That tendency continued after the great famine, as landlords began to raise cattle instead of grain, lessening the num-

154 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ber of tenants they wanted. The linen market also declined, further limiting economic opportunities for the Irish. Whole families left for the United States (O Grada, in Glazier and De Rosa, II] 1986). More single women than single men left, usually for neighboring Great Britain or North America, raising the ratio of men to women in Ireland between 1871 and 1911. Yet already in 1871, 15% of older women and 16% of older men had never married. By 1911, the year of highest marriage ages for women, more than one in five older women and about one in four older men had never married. As late as 1957, average age for women marrying was still 27.6 (Davis, in Bell and Vogel, III 1968). The sex ratio did not return to a more equal level until moderate industrialization began to create opportunities in Ireland after World War

If. As late as 1946-56, half as many Irish left their country as were born in those years. That meant a continuing rate of emigration as a counter to natural increase like that of Sweden, if not of Norway, during 1864-1914. Late marriage, high celibacy, and high fertility within marriage remained the Irish pattern until the Irish parliament finally allowed information on birth control methods to be brought into the country after 1970. The 1970s saw a 30% decrease in marital fertility. By the 1980s, both marriage ages (mid-20s) and celibacy levels (under 10%) were approaching western European averages for both sexes. Divorce continued to be unavailable to Ireland’s people, though. With modern methods of birth control at last available, the Irish were ceasing to rely on almost 20% celibacy and marriage in the late 20s for women to produce an average of 2.5 children per married couple. By 1985, half of all brides were under 25 and more than 75% of all grooms were under 30, though few of either sex were under 20 years of age. Irish 19th-century records make clear that Irish Roman Catholic priests vigorously preached the virtues of celibacy and the advisability of later marriages, to help their parishioners cope with pressures from landlords and risks from heavy dependence on the potato. Whether Portuguese, Spanish, and [talian Roman Catholic priests or Greek Orthodox clergy preached similarly

to their people is not as evident, though significant portions of Portugal, Spain, Italy, and preindependence Greece (under Ottoman rule to the 1820s) also saw great landholders command tenants, sharecroppers, and hired laborers to produce first this crop and then that for the landholders’ profit in regional and international markets. It seems more than coincidental that those countries also had celibacy rates as high as those in western Europe. Yet Portugal, Spain, and southern Italy showed much lower marriage ages for women

than for men from the 17th until well into the 19th century, under 20 for women and in the middle to late 20s for men (Smith, V 1981). Women’s marriage ages finally began rising in the mid-19th century, perhaps partly in rec-

ognition of the desirability of limiting births in ever more crowded surroundings. Women’s rising marriage ages also may have responded to a de-

cline in the availability of husbands, as more and more men used the new steamships to go overseas. They usually went to the Americas to try to earn

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 155 enough to marry later in life either by bringing a bride from home or by return-

ing home themselves. Greece, on the other hand, showed a classic stemfamily pattern. Only one son and one daughter were enabled to marry within the home community. Any others would either migrate or live unmarried with a married sibling in a pattern still visible on the island of Karpathos as late as 1972 (Vernier, in Medick and Sabean, III 1984). Some islanders followed a different pattern, dividing land among sons, movable property among daughters, and expecting high mortality to reunite divided properties by inheritance. If birth expectancy was only 34 in 1800 (Angel, in Polgar, If 1975), this had been a reasonable expectation. Birth expectancy was still only 40 in 1900,

when most western Europeans anticipated at least 45. Women’s rising marriage ages in Mediterranean Europe also may have been partly a response to rising dowry levels. The need to amass dowry often could lead to early betrothal for women in Greece, but then a delay of some years be-

fore marrying. (Dowry was required for marriage in Greece under the Justinian code, used there until 1983.) A similar pattern existed in parts of Italy, Spain, and Portugal. Spaniards who continued to divide property equally among sons and daughters presumably shared with Greeks an expectation that high mortality would facilitate recombination in later generations. Spaniards still had a birth expectancy of less than 30 as late as the 1860s, less than 35 as late as 1900 (Livi-Bacci, XII 1968). Spain and Portugal began to industrialize very late. Neither country reached a birth expectancy of 60 before the 1950s, when Italy and Greece were nearing 70—almost 66 for men and just over 70 for women in Italy by 1954-57 (Thomlinson, III 1965). Infant mortality rates and fertility decreased together throughout Mediterranean Europe,

though child mortality decreased first. Where mortality decreased most slowly, fertility within marriage declined most slowly too (van de Walle, in Coale and Watkins, VI 1986). For Spain and Portugal, with their colonies in the Americas, women came to marry later and less often considerably before i800, especially where emigration (mainly male) was heaviest. That was true whether men left for the colonies or for areas of greater promise nearer home (Livi-Bacci, XII 1968). In 1787, 11.4% of all Spanish women and 11.9% of all Spanish men in their 50s had never married, but 17.1% of women in their 50s had never married in Galicia, an emigrant-sending province in the barren mountainous northwest where there were fewer than 92 men per 100 women. In 1900, with the colonies lost but with steamships available to emigrants, 9.4% of all Spanish women (6.2% of all Spanish men) but 24.5% of Galician women (11.4% of Galician men) had not married by their 50s. By then, Galicia’s ratio had fallen to just over 80 men per 100 women, almost as low as in the Scottish highlands in 1861. In more fertile Catalonia in the northeast, trading as it did with nearby France, evidences of fertility limitation can be found as early as 1860 (Livi-Bacci, in Glass and Revelle, II1 1972). The stem-family pattern of the en-

tire northern mountain region could provide a natural basis for accepting a

156 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT need for limitation and replacing singleness for younger siblings by birth control. Yet only after World War I ended in 1918 did either Spain or Portugal show much evidence of controlling fertility within marriage, rather than controlling fertility through late marriage and high celibacy (Coale and Treadway, in Coale and Watkins, VI 1986). In one north Portugal village, emigration was a way of life for men by at least the 14th century, even before colonies were opened in Africa, Brazil, and Asia in the 15th and 16th centuries (Brettell, XII 1986). Mean marriage ages for both women and men scarcely ever went below 25 in the village during the entire period from 1700 to the 1960s. Still, the range of ages at first marriage was 19 to 39 and even beyond for men and 15 to a rare 44 for women. In the 1860s, 33.9% of those women who died at age 50 or over never married. That did not always mean that they remained childless. Between 1700 (when records began to be complete enough to be useful) and 1860, about 1 in 12 to 14 infants were born to unmarried women. From 1860 to 1919, at least 1 in 20 infants were born to unmarried women, about half of them to unmarried women who already had at least one child. They may have still hoped that the

father would return to marry them, or they may have been trying to avoid being childless as well as husbandless in their later years. After 1919, the proportion of infants born to unwed women declined to fewer than 1 in 60 by the 1960s. From 1700 to 1900, only one in three women marrying for the first time were under 25. After 1900, that proportion began to increase, though it was still under 60% in 1970. Women married between 1700 and 1949 at the ages of 20 to 24 averaged six to seven children; those married at 30 to 34 averaged three to four; those married at 35 to 44 averaged only about one; and the few married before 20 averaged seven to eight. In total outcome, that resem-

bles the approximately four averaged between 1380 and 1580 by all titled male and female members of Portuguese noble lineages (Boone, in Betzig, II 1988), or the 3.99 averaged by all Swedish women in 1776-1800. Economic growth in Portugal itself after 1950 meant that younger men ceased marrying considerably older women to combine a woman’s share of her family’s land with a man’s share of his family’s land. Previously, that had been a familiar practice, in view of a local variation in the usual pattern of equal inheritance by sons and daughters (legitimate offspring only, not those born to unwed women}. A daughter—usually a daughter—who remained at home to care for the parents received a full third before the other heirs divided the remain-

der. She could then use it to attract a younger husband. In Italy, Florentine records show that 1427 was a low point in total population (Herlihy and Klapisch-Zuber, V 1985). Birth expectancy was under 30. Both city women and rural women married at about 18, but almost 6% of city women to only 2% of rural ones did not marry by ages 48 to 52. City men married at about 30; rural men, at just under 26. In the city, the wealthiest men waited longest, perhaps to maximize the dowry they could obtain. They wed

at 31.1, whereas those with no taxable assets wed earliest, at 27.7. In the

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 157 country, the poorest men wed latest, at 26.5. The few peasant men whose future was assured married earliest, at 22.5. The arithmetic mean age at which women in the city of Florence had a child was 27.13 (normal range 20.07 to 34.19), to 40.20 for men (30.05 to 50.35), though rural women averaged age 29.93 at a child’s birth (20.99 to 38.87) and men, 38.42 (27.79 to 49.05). Medians, the ages above or below which half the children would be born, were 25 and 38 for women and men in the city of Florence, to 28 and 36 for women and men in the countryside. Birth intervals were shortest in the early years of marriage. Though these figures are from the 15th century, they illustrate the situation out of which came the drive to seek new opportunity beyond the seas, which led in turn to the age of world cities. Whether through late marriage for men and early widowing for early-marrying women, as in Mediterranean Europe, or through late marriage for women themselves, as in northwest Europe, the peoples whose rulers sent out explorers in the 15th and 16th centuries were already striving to limit births consciously enough for rulers to see overseas expansion as a needed outlet for their people, as well as a source of revenue throuch trade that would not require them to raise taxes on the propertied powerful at home. As early as 1421, a foundling hospital was established in Florence to try to save all children in that era of depopulation, even the illegitimate and the infants of the poor, whose desperate parents might leave them in a church doorway in the hope that someone would take them home. Yet only in the 16th century did the bishop of Fiesole in Florentine territory become the first European prelate to fine or even to excommunicate unwed mothers or poor married parents whose infants suffocated as they slept with their mothers (Trexler, V 1973). Today it would be recognized that sudden infant death syndrome

probably was at the root of many of those deaths. The wealth of Tuscany was concentrated in its capital of Florence. In 1427, only one in seven Tuscans lived there, but two-thirds of the domain’s taxable wealth was concentrated there (Herlihy and Klapisch-Zuber, V 1985). The wealthiest 25% of households in Florence held half its children and youths

(Herlihy, V 1985), most of them kin to the head of the household or his spouse or widow. A few were servants, though domestic servants were under 1% of the domain’s population and under 5% of the city’s, unlike in 1552, when 17% of Florence’s people were servants. The clear change after 1427 from a surplus of men to a surplus of women led to Florentine servants being 70% female in 1552, not fewer than 40% as in 1427 (Smith, V 1981). Birth

expectancy soon rebounded from its low point early in the 15th century to about 40 late in the 15th century, but life chances in northern Italy evidently worsened again thereafter. Expectancies were only 28.1 in Verona in 176166, 30.3 in Milan in 1804-05, and 26.4 in Bologna in 1811-12. Italy’s population remained almost constantly one of Europe’s densest from 1000 B.c. onward. Italy recovered its A.D. 1300 level of about 10 million by 1500, climbed to 12 million by 1600, dipped to 11 million in the plaque-

158 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ridden 1650s, and reached 13 million in 1700 and 15 million in 1750. Italian numbers then began to rocket ever higher, as the Habsburg quarantine belt of 1728 and then smallpox inoculation and vaccination took effect. Italy’s population reached 19 million by 1800, 25 million in 1850, 34 million in 1900, and 47 million in 1950—more than its larger neighbor France for the first time since A.D. 200. Population growth only began slowing down after the end of Mussolini’s births-promoting Fascist regime of 1922-43. Abandonment of infants (especially female infants) increased markedly after 1750, peaking in the early 19th century (da Molin, XII 1983). Increased abandonments form the background of St. Alphonsus Liguori’s late-18thcentury recommendation to his fellow priests that poor parents faced with yet another pregnancy should be counseled gently, not threateningly, if the wife strove to abort in a belief that another birth would genuinely threaten the survival of those already born. People in the northwest Italian provinces of Piedmont and Liguria may have been responding to a sense of overcrowding by taking less care of their infants than people in neighboring Savoy in 1828-37, when their infant mortality rates were 35% higher than Savoy’s (Breschi and Livi-Bacci, XII] 1986). Total completed family size in villages of the Parma val-

ley from 1529 to 1970 reached above 7 (6.8 in the 18th century, 7.5 in the 19th, still 6.5 in 1900-70) for wives whose first marriages were not broken by death before age 45 (Skolnick and others, in Ward and Weiss, I] 1976). Evena mild overall rise in marriage age (and celibacy for as many women in ltaly as in

Spain and Portugal) clearly did not suffice to counteract declines in infant mortality. The 27.1% infant mortality of 1876-85 (van de Walle, in Coale and Watkins, VI 1986) fell to 16.7% in 1900-05 and 6.7% in 1951 (Colombo, in Spengler and Duncan, III 1956). By 1977-79, it was down to 1.85% for boys and 1.46% for girls, and in 1985, it was just above 1% for both together. Italian landholders wanted large working groups, whether as sharecroppers or as hired laborers. A household head could assure a landowner of a large enough work force for acceptability in sharecropping or day labor by either growing his own or remaining with at least one married sibling. (In that honorconscious society, growing his own did not involve premarital fertility testing, as it might in Scotland. A Scottish lowlands plowman who hired out to landowners in the 18th and 19th centuries was apt to make his betrothed pregnant before marriage, for he could not hope eventually to get full wages until he had an adolescent son to aid him.) In the 18th century, three Tuscan communities already showed 44% extended family households in one and 39% and 45% in the other two (Laslett, I[1 1977). In 1841, in Tuscany, 76% of all sharecroppers and 30% of all agricultural day laborers lived in households with at least two married couples (Kertzer, VI 1988). In 1847, in Bologna, 75% of all sharecroppers and 17% of all agricultural day laborers were in such multiple households. From 1861 to 1921, in Casalecchio di Reno near Bologna, 76% of all sharecroppers were in multiple households, like 52% of all sharecroppers in a late-19th-century village near Pisa.

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ~ 159 In southern Italy, great landholders also could influence cultivators’ family and household patterns. In Bertalia, in 1880, 52% of sharecroppers and 22% of agricultural day laborers were in multiple households. Pressures for high fertility that were probably as intense as those felt by cottage workers in England around 1800 continued into the 20th century. Bertalia sharecroppers and day laborers had fewer unmarried at ages 40 to 44 (4% for women, 5% for men) than the overall average for Italy (Kertzer, XII 1977). All peasants and manual laborers in Agnone in Sicily might show only 36% of their households as multiple in 1753 (Douglass, XII 1980). Yet if the 52% of Bertalia’s sharecroppers in multiple households were in only 40% of all households in 1880, almost half of Agnone’s peasants and manual workers (mainly agricultural day laborers) also may have been in such households in 1753. Clearly, much of Italy had reversed the Tuscan 1427 situation of landed having larger family households than landless (Herlihy, V 1985).

Crowdedness in sharecropper households makes it easier to understand why 1 of every 256 persons departed in 1876-80 and 1 of every 52 in the peak departure years of 1906-10 (Cipolla, in Glass and Eversley, III 1965). Parma village family sizes in the 19th century probably were 20% greater than Swedish family sizes in the late 18th century, when great landholders still controlled many Swedish peasants’ lives. Sicily’s great landholders evidently began limiting their own fertility in the 1880s. Grain from more mechanized farms overseas was underselling grain from their estates in Europe’s markets, even while they saw a need to invest more in education to ensure their children’s status in

a changing world. Sicilian artisans only began to limit births in the 1920s, when United States immigration restrictions cut off a favored destination. Sicilian landless laborers only began limiting births in the 1950s, when Italian industry’s revival and expansion after World War II offered other employment. Only then did landless agricultural laboring men cease to think that they must pledge women’s and children’s work in a landholder’s household and garden to obtain field work for themselves. Such control over agricultural workers had long since disappeared in cen-

tral and eastern Europe, although it continued there, too, through much of the 19th century. In Italy (above all Sicily) and much of Spain and Portugal, it remained until well into the 20th. That helps to explain why their people were later than other Europeans in controlling fertility. It may even help to explain why, as late as 1973, just over 17% of Italian women aged 60 or over were in three-generation households (Atoh, XIX 1988). In middle Europe, Germany was greatly disrupted in the Thirty Years War

of 1618-48. From the Rhineland and the southern mountains to the Baltic, many exhausted survivors fled areas that suffered a decade or more of hunger and disease, if great landholders rather than cultivators themselves controlled local cultivation rights. Undisciplined soldiers caught and spread disease in

many areas. Some lowland districts in the Rhineland-to-Baltic region lost more than half their people, whereas some southern mountain districts lost a

160 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT third to a half. Germany, as a whole, lost one in three of its townspeople and two in five of its villagers. Brandenburg in the northeast was affected worst of

all (Gutmann, VIII 1980). Even with recovery beginning in some areas, Germany’s total 11 million in 1650 were almost a sixth fewer than the 13 mil-

lion or so of 1618. The losses were fully recovered by 1700. Population climbed by almost half during the 18th century, reaching 27 million by 1850 and doubling again to 55 million by 1925. Growth slowed only after the end of Hitler’s births-promoting Nazi regime of 1933-45 and the division of Germany into eastern and western republics, which recombined in 1990. The experience of 1618-48 scarred German family life for more than 200 years. Human life came to seem so evanescent where losses were worst in 1618-48 that care for infants became lax enough to result in Germany’s highest infant mortalities as late as the 1870s. The contrast between Anhausen in Bavaria in the southwest and Hesel in the northwest near the Netherlands is stunning. In Anhausen, 48.5% of those born in 1750-99 and still 45.8% of those born in 1875-99 died in the first year (Knodel, X 1988). In Hesel, where opportunity for Netherlands trade may have helped to keep survivors of wartime devastation from deciding to flee, only 13% of those born in 1780-99 died in the first year (Imhof, in Bengtsson and others, VI 1984). The allBavaria average was 42.5% in 1876-85, for women’s heavy work loads made bottle-nursing the norm rather than breast-feeding. In 1870, one urban district in Bavaria had Europe’s worst infant mortality rate, 44.9%. That contrasts sharply with 7.2% in one rural district in Norway (van de Walle, in Coale and

Watkins, VI 1986), less even than Germany’s overall 7.5% in 1932-34 (Hausen, in Medick and Sabean, III 1984). The all-German average infant mortality rate of 21.3% in 1896-1900, close to the 19.9% of England and Wales in 1899, only went below Hesel’s 1780-99 level after World War I. The perils of war affected German infants in World War [ also. In 1915, the first full year of conflict, infant mortality was already 24% above the one in six of 1913 (Winter, in Wall and Winter, VI 1988). German infant mortality probably stayed around one in five during the 19th

century, unlike the English situation. The one-in-five rate in England and Wales in 1899 was a return to higher levels after an initial 18th-century improvement to about one in eight. During the 19th century, infant mortality de-

clined in some parts of rural Germany but increased in others. Until the 1890s, whenever women faced rising demands for both agricultural field work

and home production of goods for the market, both infant and maternal deaths rose steadily. As a result, overall infant mortality for the 14 villages studied by Knodel (X 1988) remained almost one in three throughout the years 1700-1899. No village had an average much below one in five, even in the 19th century. Meanwhile infant mortality rates in the growing cities did not decline materially until after 1900. All the villages studied by Knodel relied on high marriage age to limit births.

Women’s average age decreased only from just over 26 to just under 26,

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 161 whereas men’s increased only from just under 28 to just under 29, in 17001899. Daughters of peasants with land married earliest, those of artisans next, and those of landless laborers latest; but sons of artisans married earliest, sons of peasants with land next, and sons (like daughters) of landless laborers latest. Couples averaged about six children if the first marriage lasted until the wife was 45— more if she married before 25, fewer if she wed at 30 or more— with about four reaching age 5. In Anhausen, survivorship to age 15 averaged

3.7 per couple (roughly comparable to 4 reaching age 5) during 1642-1749. That fell to about 3 for 1750-1899, though it improved to 4.4 (out of 5.6 born) for 1900-39. Hesel resembled Knodel’s 14 villages in marriage ages— 26.1 for women and 28.9 for men married in 1780-99. Yet Gabelbach, in central Germany, with which Imhof contrasts Hesel (in Bengtsson and others, VI 1984), showed average first marriage ages of 28.3 for women and 30.7 for men. People in Gabelbach evidently strove to limit births by unusually late marriage, perhaps to make up for average birth intervals of under two years. People in Hesel tended infants carefully enough to lose fewer than one in seven (not one in three, as in Gabelbach). Thus Hesel’s couples saw about as many children reach adulthood as in Gabelbach, even though Gabelbach wives averaged 6.8 births if they reached 45 in their first marriage, to 5.3 in

Hesel. |

German numbers recovered from the 1618-48 losses somewhat less rapidly where peasants passed on their lands to one child, either because overlords refused to allow increasing numbers of ever-smaller holdings or because peasants protected family continuity by passing the land on to one heir, as in the

French and Spanish Pyrenees. Numbers grew more rapidly where heirs shared equally or where overlords controlled peasants so completely (as in recolonized Brandenburg in eastern Prussia after 1648) that they could only bequeath movables (Laslett, in Wachter and others, III 1978). As German numbers grew, more households extended by incorporating spouses’ kin. In Saxony in the north between 1689 and 1766, extended-family households went from 30% to 44% in areas with impartible (single heir) inher-

itance, and from 7% on up to 33% in areas with partible (division among heirs) inheritance (Berkner, in Lee, III 1977). Thus the all-Saxony proportion of extended-family households was almost twice the peak of one in five for England and Wales in 1875 (Ruggles, III 1987). Landlessness also increased in Saxony, together with dependence on wage labor rather than on land or ona

steady trade (Tilly, in Levine, VI 1984). In 1550, 25.6% of rural dwellers worked as wage laborers (15.5% in the towns, 24.3% for the whole population). By 1750, those percentages were 60.6% rural, 44.8% urban, 58.3% total, and by 1849, 79.1% rural, 51.7% urban, 70.8% total. In 1900, when 70.2% of the total working population were wage laborers, ongoing growth in the percentage of urban wage laborers was being counteracted by decline in the percentage of rural wage laborers, as the landless left for towns or other countries and even other continents. Saxony’s growth in the proportions of

162 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT unpropertied almost paralleled England’s, though its unpropertied remained overwhelmingly rural, whereas England’s became much more urban. Similar growth in the proportions of unpropertied took place across all of Europe, forcing elites to find means of attaching them to the socioeconomic order through social welfare services and pensions, so that they would not revolt in desperation as the unpropertied in China periodically did. As landless numbers grew all across Germany in the 18th century, one locality after another began trying to limit them, by establishing marriage laws that required official permission to marry and by limiting permission to those who demonstrated that they could support children. Such laws raised celibacy rates, particularly in the west and south, where marriage restrictions were most frequent. Meanwhile the great landholders of the rural east actively sought more workers, introducing the potato (much as in Ireland) and even lowering agricultural wages to force women and children to join men in the fields. Families slept out in the fields to maximize working time in the busiest seasons, despite risks to health in wet or chilly weather. By the 19th century, great landholders in eastern Germany also were acting somewhat like merchant capitalist putters-out in more westerly areas, requiring lengths of cloth and other salable goods as dues from their villagers (Kriedte, in Kriedte and others, VI 1981). Celibacy rates in eastern German towns in 1880 (women 11.9%, men 7.2%) resembled those of central towns (11.2% and 8.0%) and all of western Germany (11.8% and 10.3%); but in eastern rural areas, celibacy rates remained low (women 6.4%, men 5.2%). Southern German celibacy for townswomen by 1880, at 20.7%, was about as high as anywhere in western Europe (Knodel and Maynes, X 1976). Though both sexes married late in central and eastern Germany, rural celibacy was almost as low there as in Poland and Russia, where marriage was both early and almost universal. When child mortality began to decline after 1850 (often before infant mortality began to do so), marital fertility began to be limited, and both celibacy and marriage ages then declined. Consequently, German population growth rates changed little until after World War II. The Communist government of the republic set up in eastern Germany after 1945 gave preference in public nurseries to children of husbandless women, to try to encourage recovery from wartime losses. By 1981, one in four births were to unmarried women. Clearly, many eastern German women were choosing consensual unions rather than formal marriage, now that working outside the home was the norm rather than the exception for women there, as in almost all of Europe. Even so, neither eastern nor western Germans in the 1980s appeared likely to reproduce themselves, with at least 2.1 births per woman reaching age 45, unless unprecedentedly large numbers who did not give birth before age 30 decided to do so later. Yet their eastern neighbors in Poland and Czechoslovakia responded to government encouragement by averaging 2.4 births for those wed in 1966 or later (Berent, VI 1974). In both parts of Germany, marriage ages and percentages not marrying approached general European levels. Di-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 163 vorces followed the usual post-1945 pattern of being somewhat more frequent in Communist-ruled areas than in other areas, whether because stresses were greater in those areas (like stresses resulting from inadequate housing caused by Communist governments’ tendency to see factory production as far more important than housing) or because governmental discouragement of religious affiliation weakened societal pressures against divorce, or both. Infant mortality in Switzerland in the 17th through 19th centuries may have approached levels found then in Germany, with almost one in five for those above the level of wage laborer in Geneva in the 17th century and about one in seven in the 18th and 19th centuries (Johansson, VI 1986). General mortality in Geneva was high enough from 1625 to 1810, especially among women, so that those born in the city were not even replacing themselves (Perrenoud, X

1982). There were enough in-migrants from the usually healthier rural regions to increase Swiss town populations more rapidly than village populations. Marriage restrictions were instituted in many communities to try to lessen births, particularly births to those whose poverty might make them a charge on public funds (Netting, X 1979). Those restrictions built up celibacy patterns that were persistent enough so that 16.6% of women and 12.0% of men age 60 to 64 were unmarried in 1940 (Hajnal, in Spengler and Duncan, II] 1956). Village marriage ages were in the late 20s for both women and men by the 19th century (Netting, X 1979). Late marriage ages contributed to an average of five rather than six births to women who were still married at age 45. Families expanded to include other kin (about one in four of one village’s families by the 1870s) as both life expectancies and numbers increased, though the percentage of one-person households also increased. Swiss households did not tend to include nonkin inmates who paid their way with either money or labor. That was more apt to occur in households in the Austrian Alps, from at least the 17th through the 19th century, and in other parts of Austria (Schmidtbauer, in Wall, VI 1983). Austrian Alpine households were larger than those in other parts of Austria, perhaps from having to meet both internal household needs and overlords’ demands. (Few Swiss households had overlords to have to satisfy.) Some Austrian households apparently chose to add income rather than workers. Older women who paid rent eventually replaced younger single or even married working people as the chief source of nonkin inmates in Austrian Alpine households. A felt need for more workers per household may have contributed to the Austrian Alps’ also becoming the central European region where marriage restrictions were most frequent. Such restrictions could keep unmarried adults within existing households, and even lead to births of extra future workers to unmarried women-——potentially useful to the household, even if unwelcome to

the community. Celibacy was most common in urban rather than rural areas by 1890, when 13.8% of women in communities of under 2,000 had not married by age 40 to 49 (12.4% of men), to 17.1% of women (15.0% of men) in communities of 2,000 to 20,000, and 20.9% of women (17.3% of men) in

164 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT those over 20,000. By then, Austrian marriage ages were declining from ear-

lier levels; as in Switzerland and Germany. By the 1970s, those born in 1920-25 had married at an average age of 25.1 for women and 27.8 for men, with 11.1% of the women and 6.4% of the men not marrying. Women in that birth cohort had been left short of husbands by World War II losses. In 1985, more than half the brides and more than a third of grooms were under age 25. Along the Habsburg-Ottoman borders, extended families were relatively numerous. Military settlements and strong overlord controls meant strong pressures for large households, either for defense or to meet production demands.

In the early 19th century, 1% of the people in Hungary held half the land (Eberstadt, in Eberstadt, II] 1981). As early as 1707, one sample showed about 20% of all family households in Hungary to be extended (Kiss, XI 1983). By about 1800, Alsonyek and Kolked villages in Transdanubia (where crowding had become greatest as families grew in numbers) showed 36% and 38%, respectively, of extended-family households (Laslett, I]I 1977). Sarpilis village had 31% of households including three generations rather than only two (Andorka and Farago, in Wall, VI, 1983). Four Transdanubian villages responded by developing forms of marital fertility control as early as most of

France (Andorka, in Sundin and Soderlund, III] 1979). Married children stayed with their parents, making households more complex while maintaining household work force size, but had fewer children than their parents or

grandparents. The poor changed first, not (as in France) the better-off (Andorka and Balazs-Kovacs, XI 1986). Women who married between 1747

and 1790 and then reached 40 in their first marriage averaged almost six births. Those married by 24 in 1791-1840 brought that down to under five, and those married by 24 in 1821-50 to under four. Those married by 24 in 1851-95 made it about three, with half having only one or two (Coale and Treadway, in Coale and Watkins, VI 1986). By then, infant mortality had decreased from the level of at least 20% for 1747-1860. Infant mortality took some time to approach western European levels, judging from 15.2% for nonJewish wage workers of Budapest in 1926-30 (Guttentag, II 1983). Budapest Jews of that period evidently cared better for their infants, with 8.5% infant mortality for wage workers and 4.9% for the better-off, averaging not far from the 7.1% for non-Jewish parents above wage-worker level. Even in 1984, infant mortality in Hungary remained slightly higher than western Europe’s— 2.63% for boys and 1.8% for girls. In Estonia and Latvia on the Baltic, German overlords controlled large, serfworked estates from the 13th and 14th centuries on. Relatively late marriage (not an eastern European pattern) combined there with large family households required by overlords’ demands (definitely an eastern European pattern) until serfs were given personal freedom in 1817 and freed from labor requirements in the 1850s. Ordinary Estonians and Latvians evidently resembled Transdanubian villagers in seeking to limit births (though only through late marriage) while forming large, complex family households to maximize

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 165 work force size. The proportion of extended-family households and other complex households that contained unrelated families increased from 41% in Vandra in southern Estonia in 1683 to 64% in Daudzewas in 1797 (Laslett, Ill 1977). Linden, in rural Latvia, showed more than 69% of households to be complex in 1826, but that decreased to just under 48% in 1858 (Parming, IX 1979). As the 19th century ended, average births to women who reached 45

in their first marriage were under four, with many having only two by the 1890s. Celibacy rates for women probably also rose, since many men either emigrated or were conscripted for 19th-century czarist Russia’s long-term military service. Estonia and Latvia remained the regions of lowest fertility, greatest celibacy, and greatest life expectancies within the Soviet Union after being reabsorbed into it in 1940, in the midst of World War II. In the Russian census of 1897, Estonia had the highest female marriage age (26.5) and the highest

number of women (11.5%) not yet married at age 50 (Coale and others, XI 1979). As late as 1965-70, 11% of Estonian women aged 50 had never wed. Latvia entered the era of marital fertility decline between 1850 and 1875, after beginning to experience mortality declines at all ages (Zvidrinsh, IX 1983). Marriage ages in Estonia and Latvia declined somewhat after 1940, but remained higher for women there than in any other Soviet republic. Somewhat comparably, fertility decreased in 19th-century Bulgaria in eastern Europe, as the end of Ottoman rule was followed by division of former Great estates into family-size farmsteads (McIntyre, XI 1975). In Poland, on the other hand, possession of land in the decades just before World War | seemed to be an invitation to early marriage and high fertility. Poles clearly were eager to develop strength to end foreign rule, imposed on them in the 18th century. Of rural women born in 1855-80, daughters of the landless married on the average at 31 and bore 3.9 children (if they were still married at 45), of whom 2.9 would reach adulthood. (Birth expectancy was about 42.5 for both sexes taken together at all social levels for those born in 1855-74.) Daughters of families with less than a hectare (about 2.5 acres) of land married at age 25, bore 5.4, and saw 4.1 mature. Daughters of families with one to four hectares married at age 24, bore 6.4, and saw 5.0 mature. Daughters of families with four to seven hectares wed at age 22, bore 7.7, and saw 5.9 mature. Daughters of families with more than seven hectares wed at 20, bore 9.1, and saw fully 8.1 mature (Davis, in Bell and Vogel, III 1968). Overall completed family size in the early 20th century was still 4.5. Poland’s total population tripled to 30 million between 1815 and 1914, and another 3.6 million left for other lands. Although overall completed family size was still 3.5 for those married before 1951 (Berent, VI 1974), as Poles strove to overcome losses suffered in both world wars, marital fertility continued its slow decline through the era of Communist rule from 1948 to 1989. The availability of abortion if contraception failed, which contributed to that decline, survived a legislative challenge in 1991. Poland’s fertility decline followed a decline in child mortality (van de Walle, in Coale and Watkins, VI 1986). As in most of eastern Eu-

166 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT rope, it also accompanied a decline in infant mortality and increases in both average marriage age and percentage never marrying. Among the regions of Yugoslavia, as it was established after 1918, Croatia retained an epidemic-driven mortality regime until at least 1855, fully a century later than did England. Grain prices made little difference except in the severest famine years (Capo, XI 1987). Croatia also retained a mortalitydriven marriage system (with prices affecting marriage rates only by influencing death rates) far longer than did England. By the 1830s and 1840s, some upsurges in marriages preceded, rather than followed, those price decreases that came from greater livestock production, suggesting that reorganizing responsibility for production through new marriages was recognized as worth-

while (Hammel, XI 1984). That in turn emphatically underlines Steven Ruggles’ point (III 1987) that with sufficiently early marriage, even with high mortality, up to 40% of families could include both parents and at least one married child, improving their chances of attaining and maintaining a favor-

able ratio of three actives to two dependents. Serbia, next to Croatia, showed one of the highest European levels of multiple households west of Russia (where serfdom remained in force till 1855), other than some Italian sharecropping regions. In 1733-34, Serbia had 14% multiple households and 15% other extended households, although Belgrade showed fewer multiple and extended households taken together than examples given above for Hungary around 1800, and fewer three-generation family households than examples given above for Hungary, Estonia, and Latvia. All of these showed far fewer three-generation households than the 65% on the Mishino estate in Russia in 1814, where 73% of serf households were extended (Laslett, 111 1977). Like peoples in those lands, Serbians were affected by serfdom. Macedonians and Albanians also had high proportions of extended households throughout the 19th century (Wheaton, VI 1975). Serbians had maintained large households since at least 1528, when rural dwellers around the city of Belgrade showed fully one in three households with at least two adult generations (Hammel, in Laslett, III 1972). Great landholders wanted household work groups on their lands to be large enough to give all the labor they demanded. That reality governed those households more than any personal preference of their members. The situation worsened as long-distance trade grew after 1500, stimulated by demand in western and Mediterranean Europe. Timber, grain, and other products like cloth became ever more valuable sources of income to eastern European and Baltic landholders. As the 18th century gave way to the 19th, they required ever more agricultural labor of their serfs, along with dues of cloth and other salable items. Russian overlords eventually went even further, actually sending serfs to work in Russia’s mines, its forests, and its first factories (Kriedte, in Kriedte and others, VI 1981). Eastern European serfs experienced neither a free labor market nor cottage industrialization (with providers of materials for finishing paying finishers di-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 167 rectly in markets that were nominally free, but usually both monopolistic and monopsonistic because providers of materials controlled finishers’ access to both materials and markets). Serfs knew only a command economy, in which

landholders entered external markets and gained any benefit, while serfs (lacking market access) did the work. It is not coincidental that the parts of Europe that came under Communist rule between 1917 and 1948 were those in which great landholders continued longest to deny ordinary people any opportunity to make economic decisions for themselves, or that those serfs’ descendants in the 20th century sought government insurances of every kind and were reluctant to adopt unregulated laissez-faire capitalism, even when

they finally moved away from Marxism-Leninism in 1989. Like those in Furope’s overseas domains who repudiated laissez-faire capitalism when European rulers left, experience had made them distrust a market system that claimed to be free but in practice did little to enable them to enter it on equal terms. Patterns established during serfdom probably contributed to the prevalence of seasonal work in Moscow for people in four northern districts of Riazan province in 1897 (Johnson, in Ransel, XI 1978). During the winter, one in five of those districts’ adults were in Moscow, almost all of them men. That left only 73.5 men per 100 women at home—an almost perfect counterpart to Moscow wage-worker districts’ 75 women per 100 men in 1902. The Moscow ratio rose to 82 women per 100 men by 1912, as more men workers became permanent and brought their wives to the city, and as women factory workers became more numerous. Half of Moscow’s wage-worker community who married in 1914 waited until 23 or later for women and 26 or later for men (Koanker, in Ransel, X] 1978). That contrasted vividly with the 19.5 mean for

women and 20.1 for men on the Mishino estate in 1840 (Plakans and Wetherell, IX 1988). Marriage ages for Mishino men probably had slightly decreased since 1814, while slightly increasing for women (Plakans, in Netting and others, III 1984). Even in 1897, singulate mean marriage ages for women

and men in European Russia (sure to overstate actual means in its growing population) were 21.16 for rural women, 23.11 for urban women, 23.54 for

rural men, and 26.58 for urban men. More than 1 in 10 urban men and women in their 40s were still unmarried, but only about 1 in 25 rural women

and 1 in 34 rural men (Knodel and Maynes, X 1976). The range of celibacy varied greatly by region in European Russia in 1897. In Moldavia next to Rumania, 1.4% of women were still unwed at 50 to 11.5%

in Estonia (Coale and others, XI 1979). There were only 93.7 men per 100 women in Estonia in 1897, not 101, as in 1782 (Parming, IX 1979). In Asiatic

Russia, where fewer than 1% of women remained unwed at 50 in 1897, singulate mean marriage ages for women ranged only from 16.2 to 19.6, not from 20.2 (Moldavia) to 26.5 (Estonia), as in European Russia. Those marriage ages changed less than half a year from 1870 to 1910 in 46 of imperial Russia’s 50 provinces (28 European, 22 Asiatic). Only after the Communists

168 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT took over in 1917-18 did marriage patterns within provinces change much, particularly in Asiatic and, above all, in Muslim areas. Pre-1917 European Russia had a range of fewer than half the women aged 15 to 49 in the Baltic provinces actually married to more than 80% in the provinces nearest to Anatolia. As late as 1926, about 90% of all women 15 to 49 in the Asiatic republics of the new Soviet Union were married. Fewer than 1 in 20 were still in

the polygynous marriages the new government strove to outlaw (Cho and Kobayashi, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979). By 1965-70, the European Soviet republics ranged only from 21.2 to 22.4 in singulate mean marriage age for women, though those unmarried at 50 ranged from 4.7% in the Russian republic to 11% in Estonia, where World War II losses meant only 77.2 men per 100 women as late as 1959 (Parming, IX 1979). On the other hand, the Asiatic republics’ singulate means for women ranged from 19.5 to 21.4 in 1965-70, with 1.1% to 4.9% unwed at 50. Celibacy differentiated the Soviet republics more than marriage age. Effective elimination of polygyny was accompanied by decline in divorce in the Asiatic republics; but divorce rates rose in the European republics after the Communist takeover, with increases, decreases, and new increases affected by successive changes in the legal require-

ments for bringing about a divorce. By the 1980s, divorce rates in the European republics were second only to the United States among industrialized nations. European Russia was the last major European region to see infant mortality and marital fertility begin significant declines, around 1900. Asiatic Russia began to see marital fertility decline only after 1959. The end of polygyny in the 1930s and 1940s often was followed by a slight increase in fertility. At least two of the six republics in Muslim areas, the Kirghiz and Turkmen republics, did not begin decreasing fertility until the 1970s. Even in 1980-81, a woman was likely to bear fewer than three children in only one Muslim-area republic, Kazakhstan (Rybakovsky and Kissleva, in Lindgren, [IX 1987), which is next to the Russian republic and interacts with it more than do other Muslim-area

republics. A woman was likely to bear fewer than four in only one other Muslim-area republic, Azerbaijan, next to Christian Armenia. At the 1989 census, the Soviet Union’s Muslim population was growing almost six times as rapidly as the ethnic Russian population, which may help to explain why the Russian republic began in 1990 to suggest that the Soviet federation become less centralized. Russians (50.8% of all Soviet citizens in 1989) could see that

non-Russian numbers could soon outweigh them in the Soviet Union. Infant mortality for European Russia was 21.4% in 1867-81 (32.2% for Asiatic Russia, 26.2% for both together), 22.2% in 1886-87 (33.3% for Asiatic

Russia, 27.1% for both together), and 21.4% again in 1908-10 (28.5% for Asiatic Russia, 24.5% for both together) (Coale and others, XI 1979). Even for Asiatic Russia, those rates were lower than the early-19th-century St. Petersburg foundling hospital experience of more than 33% (Langer, VI 1973-74, 1974-75). It is instructive, in view of England’s 1834 New Poor

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 169 Laws’ intent to lessen births among the poor, to compare that with mortality for illegitimate infants in English workhouses in the 1860s and 1870s—about 60% in England’s north and west and about 90% in London itself (Gillis, VII

1985). ,

The 1897 census, almost surely undercounting infant deaths, gave a range of 14.7% to 21.5% for 26 ethnic groups in European Russia. This suggests a range of 29 to 52 in birth expectancy (Coale and others, XI 1979). By 1950, infant mortality across the Soviet Union had been pushed down to 8%, and to 4% by 1960. Yet even in 1984, it was still 2.9% for boys and 2.3% for girls (Anderson and Anderson, XI 1987). The European republics’ levels were like the 1% of the rest of Europe, but the Asiatic republics’ levels were higher. Increases in birth expectancy accompanied the steady downward march of in-

fant mortality. Still, as overall statistical reporting improved, 1966-67 estimates (66 for men, 74 for women) were revised downward, reaching 63 for men and 73 for women in 1983-84. Mortality rates for those over 50 and for infants rose from 1964 to 1983 (Medvedev, XI 1985), either from in-

creased air and water pollution caused by rapid and environmentally unregulated industrial growth or as an artifact of more complete reporting, or both. At least one major nuclear accident was only reported in 1989, 32 years after it occurred. The 1986 Chernoby]! disaster will undoubtedly contribute to any further negative trends for several decades. Concentration on industrial growth at the expense of needs like housing also helps to explain why three-generation families were more common in

1953-63 among Leningrad workers (24%) than among Lithuanian and Kirghiz villagers (13% and 21.7%, respectively). Leningrad was second only to a Ukrainian region’s 24.2% (Geiger, XI 1968). The strains of living with several generations in crowded settings in turn help to explain a divorce rate of one for every three marriages in 1982. Those strains also help to explain why some parents even turn their children over to state orphanages as “orphans with living parents” in a new form of abandonment (Gray, XI 1990). The ten years’ difference between Soviet men’s and women’s birth expec-

tancies in 1983-84 was greater than in any other industrial country in the world (Anderson and Anderson, XI 1987). In 1984, the next greatest gaps were in Poland (8.13 years), Hungary (8.11 years), and France (8.16 years, the highest for any non-Communist industrial country). Men are likelier to be involved in accidents, especially at work. In areas with high concentrations of heavy industry, mining, dockyards, and urban traffic, men in non-Communist Europe lived a full 11 years less than those in agricultural areas in 1976-77

(van Poppel, VI 1981). Women’s life expectancies show almost as great a range as men’s from industrial to agricultural areas. Women’s year-by-year mortality rates (lowest in early adolescence, like men’s) increase slowly and steadily with age, unlike men’s rates. Men’s rates formerly followed a similar pattern, until the upsurge of the motor travel age in the early 1960s. Since then, in industrialized and now in industrializing countries, they have come to

170 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT show a quick upsurge in the late teens that only subsides in the mid-20s (Wilmoth, II 1989). As a result, Australia (for example) showed two-thirds more difference than Hungary between men’s and women’s mortality rates in 1980, though not a greater difference between their life expectancies. In Hungary, sex difference in all mortality rates taken together was quite low, despite the high gap in expectancies. By 1987, Hungarian men had the lowest life expectancy at 60 of any industrialized nation. They could expect only 14.6 more

years of life, compared with 19.1 years (the highest) in Japan (Lopez, Ill 1987).

Birth expectancies in 1971-76 were 68 to 71.6 for both sexes taken together across eastern Europe, not greatly different from 68.7 to 74.7 for both sexes taken together in the rest of Europe; but gaps between men’s and women’s expectancies were noticeably larger across eastern Europe (Buckley, XI 1988). No motor accident hypothesis explains why three eastern European states show wider gaps between men’s and women’s expectancies than every other industrialized state except France. What may be more pertinent is that men over 30 who were born in Germany, France, and Austria in 1902 to 1904 or in Germany and Japan in 1929 to 1931 experienced greater mortality in 1959-74 than men over 30 born in other years or women over 30 born in any year (Winter, in Wall and Winter, VI 1988). That suggests that malnutrition at 15 or 16 remains damaging to men’s own health for the rest of their lives, whereas for all women, early malnutrition up to 15 or 16 is reflected in disturbances of the reproductive system. Clear negative correlations were found ina study of Norwegian data between gross domestic product in a given year from

1900 to 1945 and average age of menarche for women born in that year (Liestol, II 1982). Anencephaly in Scotland in 1946 to 1959 (Baird, If 1980) and stillbirths in Norway in 1880 to 1935 (Liestol, If 1981) both correlated positively with the mothers’ having experienced malnutrition before age 15 or 16. War could increase mortality for all, as in Belgium and Germany and even to a much lesser extent in neutral Sweden in World War I. Alternatively, war could increase mortality for most but decrease mortality for a group (such as men over 40 in England and France in World War I) whose members could find new employment openings as younger men went off to fight (Winter, in Wall and Winter, VI 1988). The large gaps between men’s and women’s expectancies in France, Hungary, Poland, and the Soviet Union may still reflect both world wars, when all were battlefields for years. Though Germany was defeated in both wars, and heavily damaged by aerial bombing in the second

one, its people experienced less fighting on their own soil. Malnutrition greatly diminished across Europe as food storage and transport improved during the 18th and early 19th centuries. That may help to ex-

plain decreases in ages at which boys’ voices deepened and they began to grow beards (Moller, II 1987), and both a decrease in mean age at menarche and a modest increase in age at menopause during the 19th and 20th centuries (Laslett, II] 1977). The largest decrease in mean menarcheal age came

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 171 from a virtual disappearance of onsets as late as 20 or over, whereas the largest decrease in average age of beard growth came from lowering the usual age. In the late 20th century, variations in diet could still somewhat hasten or delay both beard growth and menarche (Sengel, II 1973), but diet’s effects were less

dramatic than in earlier times. a

It is worth considering recent studies that suggest that the earlier a man matures, the earlier, more often, and later in life he is apt to want intercourse. This may help to explain both Europe’s population explosion after young men began to mature earlier and Victorian reformers’ evident concern with trying to tone down men’s sexual desires. There really had been a change in the level of human physiological drives. Still, women’s marriage ages remained later than in most other world regions, in all except eastern Europe. Even there, they gradually increased during the 20th century, whereas women’s marriage ages in other European regions declined slightly. Men’s average ages at marriage approached their brides’ ages in almost every European land. In 1959, fully 39.6% of brides in the 17 countries of western and Mediterranean Eu-

rope were still at least age 25, whereas 24.9% of brides in three thenCommunist eastern European countries and just 21.5% of brides in five overseas countries whose populations were mainly of European ancestry had reached at least 25 (Davis, in Bell and Vogel, II] 1968). By 1985, most European grooms were somewhere in the 20s. Only Denmark and Switzerland showed more brides aged 25 to 29 than aged 20 to 24, rather than the other way around. Declines in serious malnutrition affected infant mortality in Europe in more ways than reducing stillbirths and fetal anomalies. Better-fed mothers could better lactate and otherwise care for their infants, better preparing them to fight off infections and other problems. Infant mortality declined fairly steadily in most of Scandinavia during the 19th and 20th centuries (Bengtsson and others, in Bengtsson and others, VI 1984). In the rest of western Europe and in Mediterranean and central Europe, it usually decreased at first, increased from about 1830 to 1870 as industrialization took its toll, and consistently decreased again after about 1880. In eastern Europe, if Russia is illustrative, consistent decline may not have begun until about 1900. Still, better nutrition made a difference. So did levels of care in other ways, as suggested by infant mortalities in Europe’s ruling families of 19.3% for those born in 1500-99, 24.6% for those born in epidemic-ridden 1600-99, 14.3% for those born in 1700-99 when smallpox inoculation and then vaccination were introduced, and only 6.8% for those born in 1800-99 (Peller, in Glass and Eversley, III 1965). More concern could mean at least as much as better nutrition, as the variety of German villagers’ experience shows. More concern appeared in many different phenomena. The starkest may have been the recognition of infanticide as a crime for the state to investigate and punish, even beyond obvious forms of violent killing. That practice began in parts of Germany in the 16th century, about when the bishop of Fiesole

172 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT began to fine and excommunicate the parents of infants who died while sleeping with their mothers. In the 17th century, innocent parents’ protests against such accusations finally led to performing autopsies on the corpses of infants in deaths not attributable to obvious illness or accident. Clergy in both Roman Catholic and Protestant Europe preached often and lengthily against what the English termed overlaying, the suffocation of an infant in its parents’ or its mother’s bed. As a result, almost all infants were removed from parents’ beds and even sleeping rooms. The wealthy had long been apt to have a nurse and nursery for their newborns. Now, even those least well off saw separate sleeping for infants as essential to proper child care. Virtually all who could possibly manage separate sleeping arrangements for their offspring did so by the 18th century. One wonders how much those sermons against overlaying as a killer of children influenced the rise in abandonment in post-1750 Italy. Clearly, clergy concern had little effect on keepers of illegitimate infants in English work-

houses in the 1860s and 1870s, especially in London. Across all of 18thcentury Europe, infant mortality in foundling hospitals for abandoned infants often was more than half. In somber moments, one wonders how much of the initial apparent increase in fertility outside marriage in 18th-century western Europe represented fewer successfully concealed pregnancies, deliveries, and infanticides by unwed mothers. As general European death rates came to be lower in cities than in rural areas (rather than vice versa) from 1850 to 1950, the inverse relation of income to death rates probably was clearest in mortalities for the youngest and the oldest. That inverse relation was at its height in 1910-60, declining as public health insurance plans lessened differences in ac-

cess to health care. As infant and child mortality rates declined in the 19th and 20th centuries, both general fertility (as governed by levels of nuptiality) and rates of marital fertility also declined all over Europe. That overall development took place in a variety of ways. Where nuptiality was already low in the 19th century (because of late marriage or high celibacy, or both), it might become even lower for a time, as in most of Europe other than its eastern regions. Usually, however, the main response was to find means to lower marital fertility at some time in the middle to late 19th century. Where nuptiality was high, as in eastern Europe, postponing marriage for women was a natural and obvious recourse. Limiting marital fertility accompanied, followed, or sometimes even

preceded it (as in southern Hungary in the early 19th century). In most of eastern Europe (other than a few Hungarian districts, Serbia, Latvia, Estonia, and St. Petersburg, earlier Leningrad), those changes came well after 1900. Moreover, only after 1960 in any nation did marriage rates and fertility levels in most rural areas decline to levels reached earlier in urban districts. Lower fertility responded in part to lower rural income (as farms in the Americas and elsewhere began competing with farms in Europe in the 19th century), as well as to decreasing child and infant mortality. Still, fertility decrease in rural areas

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 173 came only after an initial response in emigration. The Irish may be a partial exception. They apparently began marrying later and less universally (without

decreasing marital fertility) before beginning to emigrate in large numbers, even before the 1845-49 disasters. Irish, Poles, and Japanese demonstrate especially clearly the use of birth control to forestall socioeconomic status decline (Davis, in Bell and Vogel, III 1968). Each initially chose a different combination of later marriage, lower fertility (either within marriage or by increasing celibacy), and emigration, but all came to rely primarily on limiting marital fertility. Between 1815 and 1914, 50 million Europeans left for other continents out of a population that may have been 140 to 180 million in 1800 and 390 to 400 million in 1900. Heavy out-migration probably means that many European life expectancy estimates based on national censuses have needed correction because initially they were underestimated. Departers decreased the numbers in all but the oldest age groups. Locally perceptible mortalities would thereby be raised, unless adjustments were made for this migration effect (Moser, XXVII 1985). Another 50 million Chinese and Indians left their much more populous Asian homelands in the same period. Considerably fewer Africans

were taken out of Africa as slaves from 1700 to 1900, or even during the whole period from 1500 to 1900; but their departure was in no way voluntary, many others died before leaving Africa, and Africa’s population was smaller than Europe’s. Tens of millions of Europeans also moved within Europe, either within their state of origin or to another national government's jurisdic-

tion, taking their customary marriage and fertility patterns with them. Sometimes they influenced those around them. Those non-Latvians among whom Latvian immigrants lived in other parts of Russia showed lower fertility than their fellows in the same regions; non-Irish showed higher fertility when Irish immigrants were present than their fellows in the same regions of England, Scotland, and Wales (Anderson, in Coale and Watkins, VI 1986). Sometimes immigrants themselves were influenced. (Surely observing other peoples’ use of divorce helped to weaken European sanctions against it.) Different parts of Europe changed at different speeds, but the overall tendency of the 19th and 20th centuries was to strive to diminish numbers born as numbers surviving to adulthood grew. Observing how use of mineral resources could build up capital stock may have encouraged limitation of births to try to increase capital stock per person (Wrigley, III 1969). Such insights did not come quickly. England, the pioneer, went far down the road of using such resources before its rate of population growth turned downward rather than upward. Why was there a shift toward lessening births, after that first explosive century of growth? A sense of crowdedness seems like an obvious answer, until

one realizes that the populations of the core provinces of China and India probably were already more crowded when their 20th-century doubling began than most of Europe is even now. Other perceptions and attitudes specific to

174 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Europe had to play a part. Those European perceptions and attitudes now affect other regions, as merchants, missionaries, and government representatives have spread them around the globe. Some of these cultural emissaries came from Europe itself, others from states established and soon mainly peopled by European settlers in North America, Australia, and elsewhere. Ron Lesthaeghe (VI 1983) suggests three such successive shifts in attitude that began in western Europe and spread outward like ripples from a stone thrown into a pond.

First came attention to individual households as society’s basic units, emerging from the attention to individuals that is visible, though not always dominant, in both classical Greek and mainstream Christian thought and belief. Concern for individuals facilitated concern for individual households, rather than for larger lineages or other larger communities within national states. National governments found it useful to express concern for small family units as they sought to win household members’ primary loyalty away from other units like lineages, guilds, or neighborhoods and villages. Household members were used to relying on those units for risk insurance against being caught with fewer than three active members in late adolescence to late maturity for every two dependents in earliest and latest life. When national rulers wanted to draw those members’ loyalty to themselves, few of them fully realized that that would require undertaking responsibility for those in dependent ages more effectively than lineages, guilds, or neighborhoods and villages had done. The 1601 Poor Laws of England offer a notable first example of sucha realization. The appearance of this new system of official poor relief is consistent with England’s tendency to be first in all the kinds of changes that accompanied commercialization and industrialization. England’s leaders used their unified and growing domestic market’s economic power to support a navy that could ensure uninterrupted access to other markets around the world, whether in or beyond regions that England ruled as colonies for varying periods. England's leaders also sought to use that economic power at home to ensure the labor supply they wanted. The Poor Laws that were a prominent part of their design foreshadowed the much more highly developed public programs of assistance to children, handicapped persons, unemployed of working age, and people past working age that gradually came into being across Europe and its overseas offshoots in the 19th and 20th centuries. Second came attention to children’s needs. Once households replaced lineages or other local multihousehold units as the focus of individuals’ attention, children’s needs came naturally to the fore. Now, parents’ immediate risk insurance lay almost entirely in their own children, whether they interpreted risk primarily in economic terms or as need for psychological support. Lineage, guild, neighborhood, or village no longer shared much of that responsibility. This development was foreshadowed by what Lawrence Stone (VII 1977)

terms the era of domesticity in 18th-century England—again first of its kind—although it only became consolidated, as Lesthaeghe suggests, be-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 175 tween 1900 and 1945. Its fruit, so far as national governments were concerned, came in the establishing of universal public education through the midteens and public provision for continuing the education of the brightest into their 20s, during the 19th and 20th centuries. For Philippe Aries (III 1980), this corresponded to a correlation between fertility decreases in the 19th and early 20th centuries and a growing willingness of parents to invest both time and resources in rearing their children. Lesthaeghe sees a third shift

since 1945 to at least equal concern with the individual welfare of adults within the household. This would correspond to Aries’ correlation of the continuing post-1965 fertility decline in Europe—even to below-replacement levels in many states—with a decreasing, though still real, willingness of parents to invest time and resources in child-rearing. The growth of private as well as public pension plans shows this change. Once geographic and occupational mobility increased with economic diversification across Europe, national systems of public education came into being to prepare the young for adult life. It was the nation, now, that felt the most direct need for their abilities, since geographic mobility lessened the likelihood that children would remain near aging parents or live in the community where they grew up. That reality also led to both private and public pension systems.

To the degree that pension systems invested contributors’ own payments, adults had to save for their own future. It was no longer prudent to invest everything in children, or even to have many of them. To the degree that pension systems were supported by taxation, they funneled income from earners to the retired. That paralleled tax-funded public schools’ funneling of income from all earners to relieve schoolchildren’s parents of the full expense of an education that was apt to serve the whole society more directly than it would serve the parents. Both public education and public pensions, as well as personal retirement saving for those who prudently began it early, cut into the income of those in child-rearing years. In addition, income in industrial societies came to increase as earners grew older, usually on the ground that skill based on experience merits higher pay. Mikhail Bernstam (in Davis and others, III 1987) terms this the SS-PE-ES (social security, public education, earnings seniority) system. He sees fertility reduction in Europe and around the world coming from movement toward it, away from other systems that channel resources more toward those in child-rearing ages because relative geographic immobility makes children more directly necessary to parents and local communities. Looking at the basic goals of families, public education means societal assistance with instruction and developing talents after the child reaches school age (and early childhood care programs may extend that far back toward infancy); public health and social welfare services (including public pensions) mean societal assistance with caretaking, while longer life combined with fertility decline (even below replacement levels, if gradual enough) means society as a whole maintains a favorable ratio of three actives to two dependents; and only the need for satisfying interaction remains to be met with no

176 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT special societal support unless one counts social workers and psychological counselors. This most recent shift since 1945 toward concern for adults’ needs, both during and after the child-rearing years, accompanies the emergence of what Peter Laslett calls the Third Age of later, but still healthy, adulthood. Greater longevity is thus a factor, but there are other factors too. One is the recent spread of forms of social insurance that make children seem virtually unnecessary as individual economic insurance. Yet they remain essential for society if it is to continue functioning in ways that childless individuals anticipate, including social provisions in future years. (Surely the widespread continuance of legal and societal recognition of marriage as a more privileged form of coresidence than other forms of co-residence reflects an underlying belief that the total society needs members to bear and rear children, even though such privileges may seem inconsistent with ideals of individual rights.) Another factor is cynicism about how much future there may be for anyone, in view of ad-

vancing threats from environmental pollution, even though the threat of nuclear war appears to have receded. Yet another is increasing competition for individuals’ attention and investment by other activities that may seem less

stressful than child-rearing, though not necessarily more psychologically rewarding. This post-1945 shift is visible in many, if not most, industrialized countries. It fits well with the development of the SS-PE-ES system, as whole societies come to have unusually favorable ratios of more than three actives to two dependents and can thus actually move with safety toward below-replacement

fertility. To the degree it lessens environmental pollution threats, belowreplacement fertility that remains high enough not to threaten maintenance of a three-actives-to-two-dependents ratio can even be adaptive in evolutionary terms (Davis, in Davis and others, III] 1987). Lessening fertility also may be an adaptation to longer life expectancies, now more than 30 years longer for men and more than 34 years longer for women than the 39.6 years men could expect and the 42.5 women could expect in 1840 in northwest Europe and the United States (Wrigley, III 1969). A sufficiently gradual decline can be workable in a society with high longevity, for the ratio of actives to dependents is what matters to overall well-being rather than full social replacement (Moore, in Davis and others, II] 1987). With greater longevity, aged adults can turn to middle-aged adults in that Third Age while younger adults rear children, rather than having to turn directly to the young. As a stabler, long-term, welltrained work force comes into being, its members can provide effectively for the needs of both old and young, as well as for themselves. In 1988, 17 of the 26 longest life expectancies in the world were in Europe, the others being Australia, Barbados, Canada, Costa Rica, Israel, Jamaica, Japan, New Zealand,

and the United States, most of them also industrialized. Still, below-replacement fertility means more competition by parents and grandparents for attention from children, as shown by recent legal cases in Europe’s overseas

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 177 offshoot in the United States, establishing grandparents’ rights to continue relationships with grandchildren after the grandchildren’s parents divorce and remarry. Too rapid a decrease in births should be avoided, to ease such competitive strains within families at least as much as to ensure overall economic continuity. Competition for attention within families can contribute heavily to

larger social dislocations, as the emotional insecurity of jealous partnerbeaters in England and the United States demonstrates. Need to strain natural

resources less by ending human population growth must be balanced with need to limit strains to emotions by changing as gradually as possible within overall constraints. The greater frequency of one-child families in eastern Europe in the Communist years (Posten and Yu, III 1988) gives point to the suggestion that lower childbearing is a likely response to a polluted environment, in view of Communist governments’ poor environmental record. Those who fail to give enough attention to bearing and rearing children have thus far almost inevitably been at some kind of long-term disadvantage in relations with those for whom it is a high priority (Coale and McNicoll, in Davis and others, III 1987). Certainly, Europe’s peoples must concern themselves with not falling below a societal ratio of three actives to two dependents, if they are to keep the gains already made in individual well-being. Europeans may maintain the number of their

workers through accepting immigration by non-Europeans, despite opposition from people like Enoch Powell in Britain or Jean-Marie Le Pen in France, with their efforts to lessen non-Europeans’ presence. Like Turkish guest workers in Germany, who have more children than Germans but fewer than Turks at home, these immigrants may accept European family and individual values

enough to keep the core aspects of those values viable. After all, they also have been affected (even before coming to Europe) by their own concerns for individual households, children, and adults, and once in Europe, they experience on its home ground the SS-PE-ES system that emerges from and reinforces those values. Yet as Powell and Le Pen demonstrate, not all Europeans are ready enough to believe that this is likely or even possible to be willing to

give them full access to that system as permanent, rather than cyclical, migrants.

___-~ Chapter 6 The Americas and the Pacific For the descendants of indigenous peoples in the Americas, possible declines in European numbers and some Europeans’ wish to reject non-European immigrants must seem ironic. Some indigenous American groups, like the people of the Colca valley in Peru studied by N. D. Cook (XXII 1982), have yet to return to the numbers of their 15th-century ancestors. Combining estimates from four leading scholars—Russell Thornton (XXII 1987), William Denevan

(in Denevan, XXII 1976), Nicolas Sanchez Albornoz (XXVII 1974), and Maria Luiza Marcilio (in Bethell, XXVII 1984)—-suggests that when Europeans first reached the Caribbean in 1492, the Americas held 60 to 70 million people, almost as many as Europe. Significantly, those first European conquerors and settlers brought Mediterranean European patterns of early mar-

riage for women and later marriage for men, rather than late marriage for both sexes, as in western Europe. In 1492, between 2 and 10 million people lived north of the Rio Grande and at least 25 million in north and central Mexico. The Yucatan peninsula and central America probably held 9 million and the Caribbean islands another million, or 10 million for the greater Caribbean, exclusive of its South American shore. The Inca empire in Peru and neighboring regions probably held 15 million. About two-thirds of the 5 to 10 million in the rest of South America probably lived where fish could supplement staple corn and bean crops, in villages on the east coast north of the Rio de la Plata in Argentina or the banks of the lower Amazon and its tributaries. These numbers dwindled so quickly that historians have only recently realized how massive the losses were. Sanchez Albornoz believes that by 1605, Mexico’s indigenous people had sunk to their lowest number, only a million. By 1620, he estimates the indigenous population of the former Inca domains

180 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT at a low of 600,000, though Marcilio believes that the lowest point came later. The greater Caribbean suffered similar losses of up to 95%, wiping out small island populations entirely. Indigenous peoples from Honduras to Costa Rica were so depleted that few maintained their former languages and cultures. Instead, they became Ladinos, speakers of Spanish (McLeod, in Carmack and others, XXVII 1982). Guatemala’s peoples also began using the tongue of the conquerors who combined their remnants into large settlements. By 1819, when the indigenous Brazilian population was already recovering, it was still under a million (Marcilio, in Bethell, XXVII 1984). North of the Rio Grande, the greatest losses came about a century later, after European contacts with indigenous peoples became as frequent as those of the century of tremendous

loss south of the Rio Grande. By 1900, indigenous peoples in Canada, the United States, and Greenland numbered less than 500,000 (Thornton, XXII 1987). Greenland’s low point came within a century after the Danish government began Christian mission work in 1721. Such enormous losses would seem incredible without the recorded 19th-

century experience of northern California’s indigenous inhabitants. Sherburne Cook’s interpretation (XXII 1976a,b) of northern California mission records can suggest what happened over all of Spain’s vast conquests. Wherever Spaniards went, after they returned to Hispaniola (Haiti) in 1493, their presence proved deadly to local peoples. Not only did they bring new diseases

to which local people had no immunity, but their military forces did great harm. So did undesired changes forced by the missions they founded to establish Christian beliefs and Spanish modes of life. Missionaries saw themselves as helping survivors of disease and warfare. Yet Cook clearly shows that they unknowingly worsened the losses they deplored, thereby illuminating the experiences of all indigenous peoples both north and south of the Rio Grande as

they came into contact with Spaniards, Portuguese, or other Europeans. The northern California missions were the last to be founded anywhere in Spain’s empire. The first friars came with Spanish troops assigned to protect them if needed. At first, curiosity brought local people voluntarily to mission enclosures to watch and listen, or even stay for a while. Probably not quite half the northern California “Indians” (as Europeans soon came to call indigenous

Americans) were in missions in the early 1770s; but they soon wanted to leave. The friars insisted that they must do agricultural work to continue being fed. The work was not apt to take more than 30 to 40 hours a week, but it was daily (except for holy days) and also mandatory, unless one was ill. That was new and unwelcome to foragers. Being under mission discipline, rather than organizing their own work, had been new and unwelcome even to the mainly agricultural peoples brought into earlier missions from the Rio de la Plata to southern and central California. The foragers found it utterly unacceptable. They were used to making their own decisions within their bands, like the Kuna of the San Blas islands near Panama, whose full assemblies of men and

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 181 women together gave 16th-century Europeans a new view of how community decisions could be reached. It also was new and unwelcome to be separated into men’s and women’s quarters. Only those formally married by new forms that the friars introduced could live together. Northern California foragers had been used to making, unmaking, and remaking marriages even more freely than agricultural peoples to the south. Neither foragers nor cultivators understood early friars’ insistence that marriage was unbreakable and required certain forms. The sense of being under compulsion was strengthened when the friars sent soldiers to bring back any who fled. Cook estimates that 82.5% of the punishments the friars recorded from 1775 to 1831 were not for criminal acts like theft or assault, but for rule infractions like failing to begin field work on time or entering the quarters of the opposite sex. Small wonder if neither Indian men nor In-

dian women cared to bring children into such an existence. An additional blow was that even in the low densities of population found among foragers, northern California Indians were already contracting new airborne diseases like smallpox. They soon found losses within mission walls to be still greater. Clustering facilitated wave after wave of illness and death, as the sick became too numerous for the remaining well (mainly friars) to tend. Yet any Indian who fled from a mission epidemic was apt to spread disease to others. Moreover, some Spanish soldiers carried syphilis and other venereal diseases, which they conveyed not only to women in or out of missions whom they persuaded to have intercourse voluntarily, but also to women on whom they forced themselves. That brought all the sterility-producing consequences of venereal disease not only to those women who got it from Spaniards, but also to their Indian partners and, therefore, to any other partners those men

might have in the future. The mission period ended in 1834 when newly independent Mexico decided not to continue supporting the friars, for fear that they might seek to bring back Spanish rule. Cook estimated that initially almost equal numbers of men and women in 1770 became about four men for every three women by 1834, mainly because even more females than males died of illness at age 10 and over. Yet soldiers killed more men than women, whether in retaliation for ambushes or with little or no pretext. Numbers also dwindled because Spanish and then English-speaking settlers on what they saw as unused land were actually squeezing forager Indians into smaller and smaller areas, facilitating epi-

demics and diminishing per capita food resources to perhaps a tenth of former levels. By 1829, birth rates were probably less than two-thirds of the 1779 level because of both the decreasing ratio of women to men and the spread of sterility. The original estimated population of 134,000 in 1770 fell to only 83,000 in 1832, 59,000 in 1851, and 17,000 in 1873. Cook’s study clearly supports loss estimates close to 90% for the first century of Spanish conquest. Cook estimated that northern California Indian women born in 1820-29

182 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT who reached age 40 bore only 2.39 children, far too few for replacement in view of infant and child mortality. Moreover, many lived less long and bore even fewer. Given probable sterility levels from venereal disease, it is well to re-

member that births per woman do not mean births per mother. Although women born later bore more (3.76 for the few born in 1850-59), Indians suffered from higher death rates than others at all ages, delaying population recovery. Long lactation and abstinence—still at least 13 months of abstinence among 7 of 29 indigenous peoples surveyed in contemporary Latin America and 10 of 41 indigenous peoples in North America (Schoenmaeckers and others, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981)—also lessened indigenous Americans’ births. A peonage system developed during the mission era in much of southern and central California. Great tracts of land were granted to private landholders, most of whom were chiefly interested in obtaining agricultural and pasto-

ral workers. Peonage—owing labor to the landholder in return for food, clothing, and a small cottage—probably seemed less irksome than mission life

to most Indians. They had little opportunity, however, to adjust to it in the north. Between 1845 and 1848, shortly after peonage replaced missions there, the United States annexed all the former Spanish holdings north of the Rio Grande. English-speaking newcomers to northern California almost immediately began raiding for slaves among the northern Indians, wanting slaves for farm work and soon for new gold mines. Parents taken in such raids were regularly killed after 1850, to help force the children to accept slavery. That had to end when slavery ended in 1865. Yet it helps to explain why northern California Indian numbers fell even faster from 1851 to 1873 than from 1770

to 1851. That last horrifying stage in northern California starkly illuminates indigenous Americans’ experience with the first Spanish and Portuguese conquerors. Both Spaniards and Portuguese came seeking gold and silver. Spanish friars were soon protesting the floggings and exemplary executions used to force their newly assigned charges into mines and plantations. The Spanish royal court responded by turning to African slaves, whom Portuguese began bringing to Europe in the 15th century to work on estates in areas partly depopulated by generations of warfare against former Muslim rulers in southern

Portugal and Spain. Bringing African slaves to Hispaniola in 1501 was claimed to be a humane substitute for coercing local people, but in fact, falling local numbers made slaves from Africa a more reliable labor supply than indigenous Americans for both Spaniards and Portuguese. Smallpox, measles, influenza, and possibly also bubonic plague combined to devastate Mexico and Guatemala in 1520, just two years after Cortez first landed. That greatly facilitated his 1521 victory. Moreover, venereal disease soon began lowering fecun-

dity among survivors. Africans, long exposed to most of these diseases, resisted them better. Yet despite the turn to African slaves, Spain continued to

legalize enslavement for all who resisted either conquest or conversion to

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 183 Christianity. Spanish forces continued to raid Nicaragua for slaves until 1542. By then, every major region from the Rio Grande to the Rio de la Plata was ruled by Spain, except the Amazon basin, which was claimed by Portugal. The Spaniards recognized Indian depopulation. By the 1560s, many communities had almost no men, for they had either been taken as workers or fled. After 1550, Spaniards tried to preserve the remainder by combining them into large settlements. Government leaders and great private landholders wanted a labor pool for mines and plantations; mission friars wanted to teach Chris-

tianity and self-supporting Spanish agriculture; but the chief outcome was even more devastating epidemics. As for the Portuguese, ready and able to bring African slaves for their plantations and later their mines, they simply drove into the rainforests any local villagers who did not die in battle. Some of these refugees managed to combine foraging with familiar agricultural practices; others turned entirely to foraging. Little wonder that local populations

sank to as low as 5% of their former size. The combined effects of epidemics, sterility, and slaughter were magnified by adults’ use of abortion and infanticide (as saddened or horrified friars reported) to avert seeing their own children go through what they had experienced. Above all, they were rejecting degradations like the conquerors’ refusal to teach Indian men the skills of artisans. Africans were used as artisans until the appearance of mestizos (mixed-ancestry offspring of woman-short Spanish men with local women), who were then used as artisans to give them liveli-

hoods but not elite status. This eventually led to the use of Indian men as artisans also (Sanchez Albornoz, in Bethell, XXVII 1984), but not until several generations later. Abortion and infanticide also rejected the friars’ administratively supported assaults on local customs and beliefs. In the few polygynous districts (where lactation and abstinence were apt to be long indeed), the Illinois Indians’ example is instructive. They retained both long lactation and ab-

stinence after French missionaries persuaded them to give up polygyny. As abstention within monogamy interacted with smallpox, they sank from more than 10,000 in the 1670s to only 500 by 1800 (Thornton, XXII 1987). By 1600, Indians in Spanish America seldom averaged more than two births per couple, not three to six as before 1492 (Sanchez Albornoz, XXVII 1974). Given mortality levels, they simply did not replace themselves. As late

as 1713-14, a third of all Indian couples in Costa Rica were childless (McLeod, in Carmack and others, XXVII 1982). Population was recovering by then in Mexico and Central America, as large family compounds gave young couples aid; but the disastrous effects of the 16th century were still felt. Parts of Guatemala did not return to probable 1520 population levels until after 1965. In South America, where the decline took longer to reach its low-

est point, recovery only began after 1700. Only Indian women with nonIndian partners stayed at or above earlier fertility levels. Non-Indian men (especially Spaniards) usually practiced less postnatal abstinence than Indians. It also may have mattered to Indian partners of non-Indian men that their

184 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT offspring could rank above Indian in status. Both mestizos (offspring of Spaniards with Indians) and mulattos (offspring of Africans with Indians) multiplied. Similar developments took place in Portuguese-held Brazil.

Both Spanish and Portuguese rulers responded to the appearance of mestizos and mulattos by establishing a virtual caste system, headed by those of full European descent. Those of European and Indian descent came next, except that full-blooded descendants of Aztec nobility outranked them in Mexico. Those of European and African descent came next, and those with all three ancestries below them. Full-blooded Indians followed those with any

European ancestry, then those of Indian and African descent, and finally full-blooded Africans. Africans initially outranked Indians. Spaniards and Por-

tuguese then debated which to place higher: Indians, who looked more like Europeans, or Africans, who resisted Europeans less. Full-blooded Africans were soon put below all others. Enough economic success to enable a man to marry one or two levels above his own might bring his children their mother’s higher status. After independence, when political systems came to be based formally on majority votes (but often actually on ability to command loyalty from soldiers), political success also might enable a man to wed above his own level. Still, fully Spanish or Portuguese women almost always wed men of full European descent. Personal qualities might enable a woman to marry formally a man of slightly higher status, raising her children’s formal standing, but this almost never happened with a full-blooded Spanish or Portuguese husband. Only in the earliest years in Mexico did some Spanish men formally marry noble Aztec converts to Christianity and bring their offspring into the elite.

This ancestry-based caste system continued into the 20th century. All the resources of Mediterranean concepts of family honor (familiar to both Spaniards and Portuguese) were used to maintain it at the highest level, which meant that it stayed in place for all other levels. Honor meant everything, not only in its positive aspect of behaving worthily, but especially in its negative aspect of proving one’s own power by lessening another’s honor. At its root, the machismo or manliness still evident among many Latin Americans manifests a dominance hierarchy more rigid than that of any nonhuman mammals because it is less open to challenge by able individuals. Ancestry can still limit those with even the greatest personal capacity, despite Latin Ameri-

can elites’ protests to the contrary. As Latin American populations fell in the 16th century, elaborate irrigation

and cultivation techniques also declined. Less laborious modes replaced them, as in once intensively cultivated central Mexico. Perhaps 200,000 Spaniards and 75,000 Africans came to Spanish America by 1600. Only a few women came at first—not more than one in four among Spaniards until the 1560s and few early slaves. Spaniards and Africans were still few alongside local peoples in 1600. Similarly, the 30,000 or so Portuguese and the 30,000 or so Africans they brought to Brazil by 1600 were only a small (and mostly

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 185 male) group, compared with those driven from the areas that the Portuguese wanted to use. Another 200,000 or so Spaniards came in the 17th century, though only about 50,000 in the 18th. Many who left Spain for the Americas in the 16th and 17th centuries were New Christians, striving to escape unwelcome attention from the Spanish Inquisition into possible continuance of earlier Muslim or Jewish beliefs and practices. The 125,000 Africans brought to Spanish America in 1600—50 were joined by at least 340,000 more in 1650—1700, as Caribbean islands were repeopled to raise sugar for Europe’s growing market. Another 300,000 were brought by 1810, when Spain’s continued rule began to be challenged by local Spanish-descended leaders, and British opposition began ending the slave trade. By then, Africans had been brought to Spanish and Portuguese mainland holdings; to Spanish-held Caribbean islands; to Caribbean lands claimed in 17th-century wars by England, France, and the Netherlands; and to the then-new United States. In Brazil, only about as many Portuguese arrived in the 17th century as in the 16th, although at least 330,000 Africans (perhaps more than 500,000) were brought to work on plantations. After gold was found, shortly before 1700, the 18th century became the great century of Portuguese immigration. An average of 4,000 Portuguese came every year out of a home population of only about 2 million. The century also saw a tremendous African influx. Some 1,280,000 slaves

were brought in 1700-80 and about 605,000 more in 1780-1810. About one in three Africans brought to Spanish and Portuguese America were female, after the initial shiploads of mainly male workers. Still, greater mortality for men in both mines and plantations probably made numbers of adult African men and women similar. In 1819, the last full year of formal Por-

tuguese rule, Brazil’s population included about 2.5 million free persons (about half European, about a third mixed, about a sixth African). There also were 1.1 million slaves and 800,000 Indians. Almost certainly, all the groups taken together still numbered less than had lived there when the Portuguese arrived. Women were apt to be freed oftener than men, since women’s owners saw providing for their young as an expense. The Roman Catholic church recognized slaves’ right to marry, which the English did not; but few women saw much use in formally marrying a man who probably would remain a slave, unable to control the income from whatever goods or services he could produce. In view of Brazil’s social system, it is not surprising that 52% of births to free women in Vila Rica in 1804 were illegitimate, or that women with no husband present (almost all of them non-European) headed 45% of free households, or that in Sao Paolo between 1801 and 1815, 42% of all births among nonslaves were illegitimate or foundling. (An abandoned infant was treated as freeborn, since masters presumably could control slaves’ actions.) Correspondingly, in Lima in Spanish-ruled Peru in 1582-1689, more than 40% of births to Spaniards or mestizos were illegitimate. Almost all the illegitimate births were to mestiza women, but some had a known Spanish father. Half of Indian, Afri-

186 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT can, and mulatto births also were out of wedlock (Sanchez Albornoz, in Bethell, XXVII 1984). The Spaniards freed more of their slaves than did the Portuguese. As the 18th century closed, a majority of full-blooded Africans in Spanish territories were free. Yet a majority of full-blooded Africans in Brazil were still in slavery, and new slaves were still being brought. Brazil’s landowners believed that importing new workers was cheaper than promoting self-replacement (let alone

expansion) among their slaves. During 1761-1860, the final century of the active slave trade, 2 million Africans were brought as slaves into Brazil (1.1 million after 1810), 840,000 into Spanish America (540,000 after 1810), and 4.2 million into the United States and the British, French, and Dutch colonies in the Caribbean, the vast majority of them before 1810 (Sanchez Albornoz, XXVII 1974). The slave trade did not end in independent Brazil until slavery itself ended in 1888, but elsewhere in Latin America, it was little practiced after the Civil War broke out in the United States in 1861. With almost 1 million slaves brought by the Spaniards, more than 3 million by the Portuquese, and fully 5 million by other Europeans, at least 10 million Africans were brought from Africa. Mortality rates recorded for some crossings suggest that losses at sea, in slave quarters in African ports while awaiting

departure, and in obtaining slaves from those ports’ hinterlands must have meant that between 1501 and 1888, the transatlantic slave trade removed at least 20 million Africans, almost all in the reproductive ages, and quite possibly twice that many or even more. By 1800, about 45% of Spanish America’s approximately 18.5 million people were Indians, about 4% were fully African,

fewer than 20% were fully European, and just under 32% had some type of mixed ancestry. Of more than 3 million under effective Portuguese rule in Brazil (not including those in the rainforest), Indians were about 18%, Africans in slavery about 42%, African and mixed-ancestry free persons about 10%, and Europeans fully 30%, thanks to large 18th-century immigration from Portugal. Full-blooded Spanish couples tended to have large families, producing younger sons to send to the provinces with Spanish wives to exemplify Spanish standards. Formal marriage between Spaniards and non-Spaniards, or between Indians and non-Indians, remained relatively rare in colonial times. In Mexico, among men marrying in Oaxaca in 1793-97, 86.4% of men born in Spain and 68.2% of Spanish men born in Spanish America took Spanish wives, whereas 63.9% of Indian men took Indian wives (Chance and Taylor, XXVII 1977). In the Parrel district south of Chihuahua in 1761-1805, of those who married, 80% of Spanish men wed Spanish women and 80% of Spanish women wed Spanish men, whereas 62.7% of Indian men wed Indian women and 68.5% of Indian women wed Indian men (Robinson, in Davidson and Parsons, XXVII 1980). More Indian women than men did not wed formally. Because Spaniards there outnumbered Indians four to one, Indians were even more endogamous (in-marrying, marrying within the group itself)

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 187 in deviations from random pairing than Spaniards. Not all married, though. Mexico City in 1811 probably had more unwed at 50 than smaller communities. There, 21.7% of Spanish women and 20% of Spanish men, 8% of women and 18.2% of men with mixed ancestry, and 10% of Indian women and 8% of Indian men had not married at age 50, for a total 16.2% of women and 17.4% of men. Yet average ages at marriage (Arrom, in Cancian and others, XXVII

1978) were 22.7 for Spanish women (26.4 for men), 23.7 for women of mixed ancestry (22.5 for men), and 22.5 for Indian women (24.0 for men). Full-blooded Portuguese couples also had many children. The Portuguese

monarchy earnestly sought to encourage Portuguese men in Brazil to take Portuguese wives, but many chose informal unions with less socially protected slave women or free women of color, as all were termed if not fully European in ancestry. For family honor, therefore, daughters were either placed in convents (soon founded to give them acceptable places) or sent back to kin in Por-

tugal to find them proper husbands. Relative fertilities for Europeans, Indians, and Africans may be illustrated by late colonial Argentina. In 1778 in Alegro (an inland mountain province with

many Indians, Europeans, and Africans), Europeans and Africans had more children per family than Indians. Couples of all ages (including those then childless) averaged about 2.5 children. In Buenos Aires, more heavily European but with some Indians and Africans, Europeans and Africans also had more children per family than Indians; but average children per couple were higher, about 3.2. Moreover, large, wealthy landholders averaged about twice as many as poor peons, wage workers, and household servants, in a pattern like that of Tuscany in 1427 or of Halesowen around 1300. (At that period in Argentina, daughters of wealthy merchants married, on the average, in their late teens and averaged 9.7 births if the marriage lasted until they were 45.) Yet in 1813 in Cordoba (an inland province in a less mountainous area than Alegro), the few Indians had the most children, Europeans had the next largest number, and Africans had half as many as Indians. Overall rates probably resembled Alegro’s, though, since about half the population in both was age 19 or younger (Sanchez Albornoz, XXVII 1974). Contemporary observation of Kraho and Gorotire peoples in Brazil’s interior may help to explain family size differences among 18th-century Argentine Indians. The Kraho have been in contact with Portuguese since before Brazil-

ian independence; the Gorotire, only in the past few decades (Callegari Jacques and Salzano, XXII 1979). The Kraho still married only one another or members of other Indian groups when studied, yet their age and sex distribution had become more like that of Europeans in Brazil than like that of people such as the Gorotire, with more in middle to older adulthood and fewer in the earliest years. About as many Kraho women as men reached adulthood, whereas fewer Gorotire women reached adulthood but more men died (of hunting accidents and the like) in early to middle adulthood. Though a Kraho woman who reached 45 in her first marriage bore about as many infants as a

188 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT corresponding Gorotire woman, 4.6, more Kraho than Gorotire children lived. By 1990, the survival of every recently contacted people like the Gorotire was threatened by a combination of epidemics, destruction of habitat, and attacks from those wanting the lands they occupied. Indians in late18th-century Cordoba, like late-20th-century Kraho, had had more time to adjust than those in Alegro. Indians in Buenos Aires province, however, may have displayed small family size because they were the poorest group. Several patterns of family life developed in Brazil in the era of slavery. European plantation owners and officials expected European women to wed early. Elite European men had more choices. They might wed late in familiar Medi-

terranean European style. In view of high tropical and semitropical death rates, some eldest sons wed early to produce unimpeachably legitimate heirs.

Most elite European men took concubines, in what amounted to informal polygyny (also somewhat visible in Mediterranean Europe). Concubinage absorbed potential pressures from late marriage for men. It also separated fami-

lies of honor, in which women refused concubinage, from other families. Full-blooded but nonelite Europeans also wed sons later than daughters. Other free persons—whether Indian, African, or mixed (with or without a European component)—-were more apt to see both men and women wed early, or else enter consensual unions at an early age. Whether men were scarce (as in long-settled Ouro Preto in 1838, with 75 free men per 100 free women and marriage ages of 19.2 for women, 29.4 for men) or women were scarce (as in newly settled Capela Nova in 1831, with 131 free men per 100 free women and marriage ages of 16.6 for women, 25.2 for men), any local imbalance of the sexes was apt to promote late marriage for men (Ramos, in Cancian and

others, XXVII 1978). Either they could find no appropriate wife, or they could afford to wait to find one. Consensual unions often were eventually formalized by marriage; yet they also might never be formalized, even if they lasted until a partner died. Any couple was apt to have many children while the marriage or the consensual union lasted, and also to see many die before maturing. Early Latin American towns had even higher infant and child mortality than European towns of that time. Rural children in Latin America (mostly Indian or mestizo) survived at

rates comparable to those in rural Europe, having better diets than town youngsters and less frequent exposure to epidemics. All these patterns continued in Brazil after independence and even after slavery. They were mirrored almost exactly in the experience of Spanish America, though there were fewer full-blooded Spanish nonelite than fullblooded Portuguese nonelite. More full-blooded Spanish sons and daughters (and others too) also may have married formally. Guatemala City and ten Guatemalan villages in the early 19th century showed fewer than 1% of Indian

men never married by age 50 to fully 13% of Spanish and mestizo men (Houdaille, XXVII 1986). Slaves in Brazil had such low nuptiality and fertility rates and such high mortality rates that they never came to reproduce them-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 189 selves within slave life, as slaves in most other American regions did. Masters in Brazil gave slaves less opportunity to marry than did Spanish masters, for whom importing slaves was costlier. Spaniards found it prudent to encourage slave marriages and accept the rather low cost of raising children to an early working age. So did English masters in their mainland and most of their island American colonies, and French and Dutch masters in the Caribbean. Yet they denied legal validity to slave marriages, to protect the legal right to sell any slave at any time. Even after slavery ended, formal marriage often made little sense to women in lower socioeconomic levels in Brazil, Spanish America, or the Caribbean. These women, accustomed to earning for themselves, would lose economic independence by marrying. Neither British, French, Dutch, Spanish, nor Portuguese law gave wives much control over their own earnings in the 19th century when emancipation finally came. Moreover, emancipation did not alter those Caribbean or Latin American economies that relied on hired labor to produce export crops like sugar on large plantations, leaving few steady, yearround positions for men below the small managing elite. Ex-slave husbands as well as ex-slave wives had more chance for reasonably steady, even if low, income in the more economically diversified southern United States than on Ca-

ribbean sugar plantations. It therefore made more economic sense in the southern United States than in Latin America or the Caribbean for a free but poor woman to wed, even though some states’ laws treated husbands as man-

agers of their wives’ property and income as late as the 1970s. Mainland and island Latin American and Caribbean life after independence continued to depend largely on mining, plantations (dependent on seasonal workers who survived between seasons on minuscule plots of land), peonage systems (much like early-19th-century eastern Europe in landholders’ complete control over peons’ access to markets), and indigenous villagers’ agriculture (rarely tied into marketing beyond the level of selling produce in a town or

city square). As a direct consequence, consensual as well as formal unions continued to be found among all but the European-descended elite and those of mixed ancestry who aspired to share elite status. High fertility levels also continued until at last a growing sense of too few resources for too many people brought both governments and parents to want fewer children. Only in relatively urbanized Argentina, Cuba, and Uruguay were pre-1950 fertility levels as low as those in late-19th-century western Europe (Palloni, in Preston, III 1990). Leaders and people finally began to act after World War II, as life expectancies lengthened and villagers began migrating to towns and cities in unprecedented numbers. By the 1960s, Latin American cities were growing more than 50% a decade, compared with under 20% for rural areas. Latin America became as urban as the Soviet Union, where about 35% of the people were in cities of at least 20,000 in 1970 (45% in the rest of Europe, 58% in the United

States and Canada). The migrants soon became inescapably visible in the

190 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT favelas or shantytowns they built. From Mexico to Brazil, Argentina, and Chile, shantytown death rates stemming from lack of public sanitation soon embarrassed governments. Opponents desperately sought attention to the needs of the growing masses in whose name governments claimed to rule (whether in elective forms or through a military junta that usually cloaked itself in a populist, even if anti-Marxist, mantle). Yet little was done to change the underlying imbalance between the few who controlled most of the eco-

nomic resources and the many poor. All Latin American or Caribbean states had to cope with two, often conflicting pulls: the need to ensure livelihood for a still growing population, by ex-

panding all forms of economic activity, and the need to make fewer births acceptable to couples by lowering mortality rates at all ages. Industries were wanted for both products and jobs, but could bring deaths from air and water pollution caused by industrial wastes. Chemical fertilizers and pesticides could pollute soil and water as well as increase yields. Cutting down forests to open farms could quickly lead to warmer local climate, less local rainfall, and loss of

topsoil to rain, wind, and sun-hardening. Burning cutover forest lands speeded warming even more. Human numbers would have to stabilize, to lessen both the human vicious circle of overcrowding and death and the environmental vicious circle of overuse and destruction and death. Large states like Brazil and Mexico saw average total number of children per woman fall more than 40% from 1960-65 to 1985-90. Yet even the new levels were 3.5 or more, far above simple replacement levels. Only Argentina, Panama, Costa Rica, and Colombia were near 3.0 by 1980-85, Chile and Uruguay near 2.5, and Cuba below 2.0 (Palloni, in Preston, III 1990). Yet overcrowded rural

areas were still sending surplus people to already overcrowded towns and Cities.

Minifundistas (families with minute plots of land) around mines or commercial agricultural enterprises often sent the father to town, to send back earnings. Older children did the same, while younger children married locally and recommenced the cycle. The father’s absence may have been meant to delay

new births as much as to provide more income (Bronfman and others, in United Nations, II] 1986, #95). Whole families also might migrate, or unmarried women with children, who would seek new unions in their new homes (Scrimshaw, in Nag, II] 1975). Once migrants experienced urban life’s costs

and risks, though, many sought means to limit births. Minifundistas in one Ecuadoran district averaged 7.82 births for women who married by 20 and were still in that marriage at 45. With 31.2% infant mortality, fewer than 6 of the 7.82 reached age 5. Commercial dairy farming gave the outside employment for which these families bore future-earner children. When dairying was slack, children helped in their parents’ tiny fields. Though average marriage ages were 21 for women and 24 for men, those with the tiniest holdings (more eager for future workers) averaged 19 for women and 23 for men. Lacking enough land for successful commercial agriculture,

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 191 they simply kept on having children, many of whom eventually would migrate to survive. Some Italian immigrants to Santa Fe province in Argentina after 1878 were more fortunate. They acquired land and raised corn and flax suc-

cessfully. Because these required about eight workers to a holding, yearround, the first generation had large families. A woman who wed at 20 and was still in that marriage at 45 averaged 12.4 births. When the bottom fell out of the corn and flax markets after 1930, the new generation turned successfully to cotton, which needed fewer workers for less of the year. Marriages

soon began to come later, and average completed fertility also declined (Archetti, XXVII 1984). Villagers in a Bolivian mountain region showed similar rationality. Mountain women and men married earlier than valley women and men, who had more chances to earn than mountain folk. The marriage-age difference held whether the young people married at home, or in a lowland agricultural frontier area to which many of the region’s people were migrating, or in the provincial capital or larger cities like Buenos Aires that were receiving many others from the region. Yet all married earlier at home or on the agricultural frontier—late teens and early 20s for mountain women and men, very early 20s and mid-20s for valley women and men—than in a city. These persistent differences evidently reflected both opportunities to earn before marriage and preference for more children in a rural environment, fewer in an urban one (Dandler and Balan, XXVII 1988). Selective neglect could reduce effective family size when later marriage or other birth limitations failed. About one in seven Latin American firstborns and secondborns died, but about half of fifthborns and laterborns, usually from a combination of maternal depletion as pregnancies continued and parental neglect as numbers to feed and tend grew too large. In Guatemala, for example, toddlers between newborns and children near age 5 were at special risk if all three fell ill, for overburdened mothers focused on infants and those already old enouch to help with simple tasks (Scrimshaw, in Hausfater and

Hrdy, II 1984). In any country, a malnourished child is passive and undemanding, increasing its risk of being overlooked and becoming ever more susceptible to disease (Mahadevan, in Mahadevan, XV 1986). Fortunately for their female infants, Latin Americans share bilateral inheritance patterns, willingness to see women earn outside the home (even elite women, in properly prestigious positions), and a belief that for every boy there should be a airl. Daughters are both sister-confidantes within the family and eventual partners to others’ sons. Neglect, therefore, depends on birth order rather than on sex. In Ecuador and elsewhere, it is even expected that almost every family will

have at least one angelito, an infant who did not survive (Scrimshaw, in Eberstadt, III 1981). In Guatemala, infant mortality in 1880-81 was more than 15%, still more than 9% in the 1970s, and almost 6% in 1986. It declined

less in the 1960s and 1970s in rural areas (least of all in provinces farthest from the capital) than in more urbanized areas and the central region. Yet as

192 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT late as 1961, neither region nor urban/rural residence mattered. Overall, improved health services raised birth expectancy from not over 32.2 in 1880-81 to 42.7 in 1950-55 and 60.7 in 1980-85 (Delgado and others, in United Na-

tions, II] 1986, #94). Birth expectancy for Latin America as a whole rose from 31.3 in 1920 and 33.6 in 1930 to 38.0 in 1940 and 46.4 in 1950, about like less advanced European countries’ 46.1 in 1920. By 1970-75, it was 61.3, well above the worldwide average of 56.1 or the 56.0 of Asia and 46.5 of Africa, but well below

more developed countries’ 70.4 (Chen, in Bulatao and Lee, II] 1983). In 1981, the range still went from 51 in Bolivia (partly agricultural and partly mining) and 54 in Haiti (the most agricultural of all Latin American countries) to 71 in Uruguay, Argentina, Panama, and a revived Jamaica, reaching 73 in Cuba, where the revolutionary regime greatly expanded health services. By 1985-90 only slight improvements had taken place anywhere in the region. More health services in Cuba eventually led to fertility decline both by lowering mortality and by making contraception available. An initial postrevolutionary upsurge preceded decline, however, as promises of steady work for all

in place of unsteady seasonal labor led more couples to marry in the 1960s (Hollerback and Diaz-Briquets, XXVIII 1983). Unfortunately, throughout most of Latin America, general economic decline during 1960-72 halted or sometimes even reversed earlier infant mortality declines (Neri and Alvarez Gutierrez, XXVII 1977). Deficiency diseases and airborne and waterborne ep-

idemic diseases, almost absent in advanced economies, continued to kill many. Though fertility began declining in the 1960s, that decline came from worsening health among potential parents more than from efforts to decrease conceptions until the 1970s. Sao Paolo in Brazil demonstrates all too well that as real wages fell from 1964 to 1974, under anti-inflation policies of wage control, infant deaths rose. They only declined again after wage control was lifted and real wages finally increased (Wood, XXVII 1982). Regional differences within as well as between countries remained real. In Peru in 1976, infant mortality in the mountains at 23.3% was almost twice the level on and near the coast, greater than the difference between 18.89% in villages and 13.25% in cities. The resulting 17.77% average, down from 21.16% in 1940, decreased to 9.09% by 1981 (Moser, XXVII 1985). Before the 20th century, crowded and unsanitary cities all over Latin America would have shown as bad a record as villages, or even worse. As mortality declined, so did births. Child survivorship in Peru improved from 4.65, or 70%, in 1972 to 4.62, or 82%, in 1981. Peruvian women aged 45 to 49 had had 6.57 births in 1972 but that declined to 5.62 in 1981. Still, Aymara Indian experience in

southern Peru’s high mountain plateau suggests that high infant mortality (25.2% in the first week) could be a limiter of families (de Meer, XXII 1988). Aymara parents also urge sons and daughters to delay marriage, telling elder

children that they are needed to help with younger ones and then telling younger ones that they are needed to help the aging parents (Collins, XXII

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 193 1983). Earlier, the baptismal records for foundlings and nonfoundlings at Tula

in Mexico in 1683-1740 suggest that parents were using abandonment to limit how many they would raise (Malvido, XXVII 1980). Marital patterns inevitably influence fertility. In Peru, women’s singulate mean marriage age increased more than 18 months from 1972 to 1977 (men’s, by only 8 months), which may have lessened births more than fertility limitation after marriage. Among nations in the World Fertility Survey of the 1960s and 1970s, Jamaica had the fewest women still in their first union in their 40s, only 37%, thanks to the trend toward consensual unions in plantation economies (McDonald, in Cleland and Hobcraft, III] 1985). In the French West Indies, a sample of women aged 15 to 49 entered their first unions at about 20. Some stayed in them, although 30% to 40% of unions were visiting unions, in which the man visited the woman but did not live with her, and another 30% to 40% were nonformalized co-habitations. Visiting unions usually moved toward co-habitation or broke up within two years. Fully 12% of co-

habitations lasted for at least 20 years (half lasted at least 6 years) before breaking up or becoming a formal marriage. About 15% of formal marriages lasted for less than 20 years (Leridon, in Dupaquier and others, III 1981). Undoubtedly, early French planters’ practices influenced that pattern. Planters at

first encouraged formal marriage, but ceased to do so when 18th-century growth in the slave trade lowered the price of slaves. Though planters still en-

couraged women to bear, they ceased encouraging men to become formal husbands. The tendency for either formal or informal unions to dissolve in less than 20 years because of either death or departure was less than half as high in

Peru (18%) as in Panama (40%) in the 1970s (Goldman, XXVII 1981). Yet even Peru experienced more dissolutions than the overwhelmingly European-

descended populations of contemporary Chile, Argentina, and Uruguay, which received massive immigration from southern and eastern Europe in 1880-1940. There, the consensual unions of those at lower levels in an ancestry-based caste system were almost unknown. Lack of encouragement for marriage in Jamaica meant that as late as 1830, just before formal emancipation came in 1833, Jamaicans of African descent had too few children to replace themselves, like slaves in Brazil. Slaves in Vossenburg, Surinam, never replaced themselves at any period from 1705 to the end of slavery there in 1863 (Lamur, XXVIII 1987). Slaves in Spanish Cuba, French and British Guyana, and French Martinique also did not replace themselves as long as slavery continued (Lamur, XXVIII 1981). In addition to lack of support for marriage, nonreplacement reflected West Indies Africans’ maintenance of the lengthy lactation and abstinence of their own or their par-

ents’ homelands (Fogel and Engerman, in Smith and Laslett, XXV 1979). Meanwhile most Africans and their offspring on the mainlands shortened lac-

tation from two or three years to about a year, like the nonelite Europeans they saw more of on the mainlands than in the islands. Some owners, however, encouraged long lactation so that slaves could wet-nurse owners’ infants,

194 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT letting a mistress return to supervisory household duties and status-maintaining social activities.

A variety of situations prevailed in the Caribbean, in part because some West Indies slaveowners expected slaves to grow their own food, whereas others issued food throughout the year. Though all West Indies inhabitants had to fend for themselves after emancipation, fertility levels continued to vary by type of union. The World Fertility Survey found averages of 5.5 births for Jamaican women who completed their fertility within a legal marriage, 4.6 for those in a common-law marriage or co-habitation, and 3.2 for those in visiting unions (Burch, in Bulatao and Lee, III 1983). An earlier, 1946 survey of the Caribbean region found that mothers who reached 45 bore just over 6 if ever formally married, about 5 if in common-law marriages or co-habitations, and about 4.5 if only in visiting unions. Sex ratios mattered. Throughout 1844— 1960, Barbados had under 85 males per 100 females, with most of the deficit

in the working years from teens to 40s (Nag, in Nag, III 1975). No wonder women born in Saba in the Netherlands Antilles after 1915, when male migration to work became permanent rather than seasonal, only wed formally about 25 years later than those born before 1915. They entered unions just as early, but waited to wed until their partners could return to stay (Fry, XXVIII 1981). Women were scarce at first among the African slaves who gave rise to the

vast bulk of West Indies population after 1600. Few African ethnic groups managed to retain an identity. One exception in Trinidad were Igbo from today’s eastern Nigeria (Higman, XXVIII 1978). At least one in four Igbo managed to form families with other Igbo by 1813, despite a sex ratio that had only recently risen to 83 women per 100 men. A comparison of Indian and mestiza women in Peru shows that being in a dominant group or native to a community can affect access to marital partners and, therefore, fertility (Morris, XXVII 1986). Indian women bore fewer than mestizas in Lima city; mestizas bore fewer than Indian women in predominantly Indian mountain villages. In her own milieu, each was less apt to be in an unstable union, to have experienced premarital pregnancy, or to have

waited unusually long to enter a union than where the other group predominated. Three-fourths of Mexico’s urban-rural difference in fertility by 1960 came from later marriage and more childlessness in the cities and towns (Browning, AXVII 1964). Those in rural areas for whom children helped to grow cash crops, like Maya migrants in Chiapas in 1952, kept rural Mexican average total fertility at 7.8 in 1969. Yet more than 18% of all fertile Mexican women bore 1 to 3, whereas another 18% had 11 or more (Bongaarts, in Menken, III 1986). Still, by 1976, those Maya migrants to Chiapas were ready to have fewer children, for cash income per family member was starting to decline (Schumann, in Handwerker, II 1986). By 1981, average rural Mexican total

fertility fell to 5.3, as contraceptive use rose from 1 in 20 to 1 in 3, even

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 195 though mean length of lactation was 15 months rather than 18 months. By 1990, rural Mexican total fertility was under 4.0. Local total fertility rates in a group of Guatemalan villages in the 1970s ranged only from 7.1 to 7.67 (down from 8.8 in 1949-51), but family sizes within a village could vary greatly by socioeconomic situations (Glittenberg, in

Leininger, III 1979). In Aguacatan, couples in labor-needing irrigated lowlands averaged 6.5 births. Dry-upland farm families who migrated for seasonal labor averaged 5.87. Craftsmen, neither well off nor in need of labor but also unacquainted with contraception, averaged 5.48. The few large landholders averaged only 3.67, having realized that their children must be educated to be successful (Odell, in Handwerker, II 1986). In both Colombia and Trinidad, the World Fertility Survey found a regular decrease in total fertility from wives or co-habiting partners of men in aaricul-

ture (9.8 Colombia, 6.5 Trinidad) and manual labor (7.0 Colombia, 5.2 Trinidad) to those in sales and service (6.5 Colombia, 4.4 Trinidad) or the professions (5.7 Colombia, 3.8 Trinidad). Trinidad levels were lower, both be-

cause visiting unions and informal co-habitation were more prevalent and because contraceptives were more widely used (Boserup, in Coleman and Schofield, III] 1986). Brazil also demonstrates rural-urban differences. In 1940, when the nation-

wide total fertility rate was 6.5, it was already 4.2 in Rio de Janeiro (Lam, XXVII 1988). By 1960, it had reached 4.69 in Sao Paolo (Wong, XXVII 1985). By 1970, it was 5.8 for the nation, though still 7.7 in rural areas compared with 4.8 for all cities and towns except Rio de Janeiro (4.0). As real wages recovered in the 1970s, having children to raise total household income lost its appeal. By 1980, the national average was 4.2, rural 6.0, urban 3.5 (Sao Paolo 3.4), and Rio de Janeiro 2.7 (Lam, XXVII 1988). For the nation, the lowest income group averaged 6.1 (rural 6.6, urban 5.2), to 2.9 for the highest income group (rural 4.0, urban 2.8). More of Argentina’s and Uruguay’s people came from Mediterranean Europe than in the rest of Spanish and Portuguese America. Women born in Ar-

gentina and Uruguay in 1906-10 were the first in Latin America to bring nationwide completed family size below 3.0 births for those reaching 45 in their first marriage. In Argentina, and probably also in Uruguay, some reduction had already taken place for those born in the 1860s and 1870s (Sanchez

Albornoz, XXVII 1974). By 1965, Puerto Rico, with its ties to the United States, had brought total fertility below 4.0; but no other Latin American or Caribbean state reached that level until the 1970s. By 1980-85, Latin America’s total fertility rate was 4.12, lower than rates for Asia or Africa. Its decreases in mortality outpaced that decline from 5.89 in 1950-55. Its overall

growth rate from 1950-55 to 1980-85, at 2.57% a year, was just under Africa’s at 2.59%. Africa’s decline in estimated total fertility rate was only from 6.57 to 6.43 in that period (Demeny, in Menken, III 1986). Total Latin American and Caribbean population had perhaps been 10.5 million in 1600,

196 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 12 million in 1700, 17.5 million in 1800, and 64 million in 1900, after the great century of European immigration that increased North America’s numbers even faster, from 6.5 million to more than 81 million. High fertility brought Latin American population close to 350 million (more than the United States and Canada together) as the 1980s ended. Latin Americans, whether of European, mixed, indigenous, or African ancestry, married their women comparatively early well into the 20th century. That was Mediterranean Europe’s pattern before 1800, and many Latin Americans’ forebears came from there. Early marriage for women also characterized both African and indigenous American cultures. Each group also maintained its accustomed marriage age for men, whether that was early or late. Only since about 1950 have marriage ages come closer together on a national-average basis for women and men across all of Latin America, as women marry later and men begin to marry earlier (Garcia-Espana, XXVII 1986). A smaller spousal age gap can help to lessen husbandly dominance over youthful wives for European and mestizo groups in which age difference formerly upheld that pattern. It alone does not alter machismo (male selfdefinition as able to protect oneself and one’s women from others’ verbal and physical attacks) or its counterpart marianismo (female self-definition as ready and able to care for men’s needs, while remaining above men’s readiness to use verbal or physical violence). Still, it can ease change, both for

Europeans and mestizos and for others who adopted some degree of machismo-marianismo from their former conquerors and enslavers. Brazil’s supreme court marked a stage in that change in 1991 by deciding that “defense of honor” does not justify a husband’s murder of a wife suspected of adultery, though in just two years, 722 men had successfully used that plea in Sao Paolo state alone—almost one per day. As the conquered or the enslaved formally accepted their new masters’

religion, they began to adapt rules such as those of godparenthood or compadrazgo to their own needs. Especially where Indians are numerous, compadrazgo has become a leading way to link those below with those above in the castelike social system (Foster, XXVII 1953). As long as that social sys-

tem continues to separate European, mestizo, Indian, mulatto, and African, all but the Europeans are apt to use godparenthood to supplement blood ties within their own grouping, by forming potentially helpful links with members of more powerful groups. Even the European-descended may use compadrazgo between those of differing standing, or to expand interlinking at the very top.

The experiences and responses of Indian cultivators north of the Rio Grande whose first European contact was with Spaniards were much the same as for those farther south. For others, Spanish entry north of the Rio Grande meant new forms of life. Navaho began to hunt the buffalo on horseback, as they learned how to raise and ride the horses they initially traded for with Spaniards. Peoples farther north remained almost entirely foragers who

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 197 supplemented hunting and gathering with slight and brief gardening. In the late 17th century, Navaho themselves (surrounding Hopi agricultural villages and near other cultivators) took up both herding and gardening. Though Navaho were then probably no more than 8,000, they reached about 12,000 by 1864, when they were relocated from northern Arizona and New Mexico to southern New Mexico. They decreased to about 10,000 by the time they were allowed to return in 1868, but then grew to 17,000 by 1890, 65,000 by 1950, and 159,000 by the 1980 census, when all Indians together in the United States numbered 1,370,000 (Thornton, XXII 1987). Total Indian numbers were down from perhaps 600,000 in 1800 (perhaps a tenth of their A.D. 1500 level) to 248,000 in 1890, but back to 343,000 by 1950 (Johansson, XXII 1982). Thereafter, some who had ceased to call themselves Indian began doing so again. By 1970, 723,000 listed themselves as Indian and almost double that (but not from skyrocketing birthrates) in 1980. Part of the Navaho increase might have come from polygyny, which they began using when they were losing men in battle against other Indians and Eu-

ropeans. Yet polygyny dwindled in the 20th century, as women’s marriage ages rose. Navaho who were enumerated as their families grazed their animals on part of the Hopi reservation in 1900 showed almost 40% under age 10, to just over 25% of Hopi, and about 7 births per Navaho woman (6.5 per Hopi woman) age 48 or over. Pastoral mobile Navaho experienced far fewer epidemics than Hopi (crowded into agricultural villages), and also ate more protein. Better health probably contributed to both greater fertility and greater child survival at the time of enumeration, more than half for those Navaho women but not quite two in five for Hopi mothers, who lost fully half of those born before age 5 (Johansson and Preston, XXII 1978). Navaho mortality and fertility rates were about twice the averages for the entire United States population in 1900 (Thornton, XXII 1987), and still in 1983 (Broudy and May, XXII 1983). Navaho birth expectancy was 35 in 1900, to almost 50 for the whole population and only 21.5 for Hopi. For all Indians, it was only 24.2, up

from 22.5 in 1890 but still not back to the 25.7 of 1880 (Thornton, XXII 1987). By 1949-51, all Indians together had a birth expectancy of 60, about seven years below the total population. California Indian women born in 1850—59 averaged only 3.76 births per actual mother. Their successors over the next 60 years never rose above the 4.16 for mothers born in 1880-89 (Cook, XXII 1976b), making them less fertile than bilateral Pacific northwest Yakima, patrilineal Great Lakes Ojibway, or

upper New York Seneca (matrilineal like both Hopi and Navaho), even though age at first birth in all three groups was over 20 in 1900 for those women then aged 45 to 59 (Shoemaker, XXII 1988). Yakima averaged 5.2, of whom 2.95 were still alive in 1900. Ojibway averaged 5.1, with 3.46 still alive in 1900. Seneca averaged 5.0, with 3.26 still alive in 1900, for a mortality rate slightly higher than among Ojibway but lower than among Yakima, many of

whom sent firstborns to grandparents to raise and be aided by.

198 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT By 1980, all-Indian infant mortality was about 1.34%, close to the allUnited States 1.26%. As recently as 1955, it had been 6.09% to the all—United

States 2.64% (Thornton, XXII 1987). In months 2 through 12, it was still three times that of those of European ancestry in 1980 because of poorer living conditions (Vandlingham and others, XXII 1988). When Indian infant mortality began approaching all-United States levels, Hopi began to limit births, reaching simple replacement level by the 1970s. Navaho were slow to follow suit, for pastoralism had accustomed them to turn to migration rather than to limitation. Crow women in 1900 showed a first-birth age under 18 (Shoemaker, XXII 1988), clearly trying to make up for a small 1880s birth cohort by increasing births. Crow had been forced to migrate a long distance to an assigned reservation in Montana in the 1880s. Relocated Indians’ military escorts usually insisted that they move as fast as possible. They often found insufficient food,

clothing, and shelter at their destinations. When literate Cherokees from Georgia were relocated in the 1830s to the far interior, half of them died, as they recorded in the script their leaders had invented so that they could keep their identity by reading and writing in their own language. Later relocations of southern and central plains Indians to regions farther west probably were equally deadly for all but the resilient Navaho and a few others. Cushioned by distance from centers of Spanish authority, Navaho had more than a century of noncoercive contact in which to decide to replace foraging with warlike hunting-pastoralism. Only in the late 17th century did Spanish power begin to reach toward their lands. That was very unlike northern California Indians’ extremely brief initial noncoercive contact. Most Indians in the United States and Canada (unlike most of those farther south) also had some initial noncoercive contact, but few for as long as Navaho. Even fewer changed their way of life during that initial period as Navaho did. Hunting-pastoralism enabled Navaho to remain in relatively noncoercive contact, punctuated now and then by skirmishes, until the United States government at Washington replaced Mexico City as official claimant to ultimate authority over them. Washington established dominance over Navaho in just 20 years (from 1848 to their initial forced removal in 1864 and their return in 1868), a short enough period for their traditions to survive in full into the postconquest era. Plains Indians also experienced a rather brief establishment of dominance, from 1862 to 1886. That, too, was unlike northern California Indians’ experience, for whom establishing dominance lasted from the founding of missions in the 1770s to the slave raids and slaughter of the 1850s. Many small local groups died out entirely, and few customs and traditions survived. Most North American Indians faced similar experiences (though not always so blatantly brutal), as settlers from England, France, the Netherlands, and other northern European lands crossed the Atlantic to North America in the 17th and 18th centuries and gradually spread across the continent to the Pacific coast during the 19th century.

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 199 When Ponce de Leon returned to Florida after his initial landing in 1512, he sought dominance immediately, seizing Indians as slaves to work in Puerto Rico. However, northern Europeans along the coasts north of Florida thought it politic to begin by seeking peaceful trade, in the hope of winning local support against any Spanish effort to move northward. Even when northern Eu-

ropeans began establishing settlements as bases for local trade and for providing crops and timber to the founding country, they usually sought to purchase claims to full sovereign ownership. They did not realize that local peoples saw land only as the common heritage of all. Local peoples were, therefore, ready to allow others to use land, but they also expected to be as free to use it (if they found they needed it again) as they currently were agreeing the newcomers might do. Claims of “payment in full” and “perpetual sovereignty” were meaningless to them. The resulting lengthy series of local conflicts ended in the European newcomers’ establishing dominance over local peoples from Quebec in Canada (founded by France in 1608, just a year after England effectively colonized Virginia) to Georgia (founded by England next to Florida in 1732). Some Indian leaders began accepting European ways, recognizing that their own small numbers—diminished by disease even more than by war—could not with-

stand the large numbers Europeans soon began to send. One or another North American Indian group experienced an epidemic every 4.2 years from 1520 (when Florida felt the same great multiple epidemic as Mexico and Guatemala) to 1900 (Thornton, XXII 1987). Children’s deaths quickly brought a shortage of young adults among Indians, whereas most European arrivals in North America were young adults. One who accommodated himself was Handsome Lake, brother to a defeated Iroquois leader. Early in the 19th century, he brought Iroquois people in New York state from matrilineality, gardening, and hunting to bilaterality and plow agriculture, with plowing replacing warfare as a man’s role. Another was the inventor of the Cherokee script in English-colonized Georgia. Most local New England groups, such as the Mashpee, also accepted European ways after losing King Philip’s War in 1675-76. Those who resisted longer eventually were forced to accept life on reservations. In the Great Lakes area, the Pacific northwest (annexed to the United States in 1846), and the formerly Spanish-ruled southwest, most of these were in their former homelands. Many of those who once lived in the eastern prairies had to move west to the central plains, when defeated southerners and victorious northerners agreed to join in opening up the regions west of the Mississippi River after the Civil War of 1861-65 was over. Epidemics, wars (which probably killed half a million), slaughter (which probably killed another half million), enforced relocations, limits on areas to fish and hunt—all these made it extremely hard to keep up languages and traditions. Each contributed to diminishing Indian numbers (enough in some areas to turn incipient cultivators back toward foraging) and distressing In-

200 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT dian minds. That distress still helps to make Indians far likelier than others in the United States to become alcoholics, shortening life spans. Birth expectancies for Indian men and women in 1980 were still at least three years less

than for the general population. The ghost dances of the 1870s and 1890s were a vain effort to bring back the spirits of the many who had died. After their failure, more Indians than before began to seek opportunity in cities rather than on reservations, leading to more intermarriage both with members of other Indian groups and with non-Indians. By 1950, full-blooded Indians were not more than one in four of those who saw themselves as Indians or Native Americans, whereas in 1930, almost half were still full-blooded (Johansson, XXII 1982). Indians retained a sense of kinship well beyond the nuclear family on which most European-descended United States inhabitants came to focus. In 1960,

Indians were 4.75 times as apt as the general population to have threegeneration households headed by a grandparent, and 1.27 times as apt to have three-generation households headed by a member of the middle generation (Price, in Mindel and Habenstein, XXV 1976). By then, little was heard of

earlier social arrangements at which earlier European observers had wondered. That did not mean only polygyny, which Europeans had seen in Africa and Asia for centuries. It also meant individuals born women who foreswore a womans life as wife and mother, and individuals born men who foreswore a

man’s life as husband and father. These individuals took on religious functions, as intermediaries between the sexes and also between their fellow humans and cosmic powers (Williams, XXII 1986). Such individuals, though few in any local group, were found in many local groups. Because people seek ways to keep births at replacement level, those social arrangements may have developed and persisted because they can keep fertility in check, much like large female entourages for the powerful in early Southwest Asian cities. Because hard riding to produce impotence has been apt to be part of preparing those born men who would be warriors but not husbands and fathers, one wonders whether such arrangements antedated the Spaniards’ introduction of the horse. The people of the plains initially adopted horse-riding to aid in hunting buffalo. The horse, therefore, did not spread much above the northern limit of the buffalo, near the eventual border between the United States and Canada. Most European settlers beyond Canada’s eastern coast, whether French or English, followed paths already used by fur traders. As in the United States, Canada’s European settlers soon established dominance, though usually after fairly lengthy noncoercive contact. Some local eastern Canada peoples took up agriculture, as European settlement made forager life impossible. Others went (with varying degrees of willingness) to regions not yet settled by Europeans. Canadian government trading posts eventually followed them, reaching the Old Crow near the Arctic Circle in 1912, as mentioned in Chapter 4. Old Crow fertility jumped from 4.4 to 6.6 in a single generation. Year-round

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 201 settlement around a trading post ended long periods of spouse separation. Year-round steady food supplies (including carbohydrates like flour, which probably raised fecundity) not only ended the leanness that could keep women from many births, but also made earlier marriage and birthgiving likely, as better overall nutrition brought earlier menarche (Roth, XXII 1981).

In 1961, for all Canadian Indians, the average number born per woman aged 45 to 49 was 6.4. For women 50 to 54, it was 5.9, and for women 55 to 59, it was 5.8 (Romaniuk and Piche, XXII 1972). Allowing for possible forgetfulness, these figures suggest little change in Indian fertility up to 1960. Yet In-

dian birthrates dropped by almost 25% from 1960 to 1969, indicating that real changes finally were taking place. Similar developments took place among Inuit, farthest north of all, whether

in Canada, Greenland, or Alaska, and among the Aleut in Alaska’s island chain. Greenland Inuit, decimated in the 18th century when exposed to Europeans for the first time since Viking days, multiplied increasingly after 1945 as their remote home came to receive regular income as a weather-tracking station. Their growth only began to slow in the 1960s. Other Inuit and the Aleut

had similar experiences (Choiniere and Robitaille, XXII 1988). Among Nunamiut Inuit, for whom forager life ended only in 1950, total fertility rates initially rose from 6.86 to 8.28, but then fell to 4.16 as contraceptives began to be used (Binford and Chasko, in Zubrow, III 1976). Among western Alaska

Inuit, the birth increase that began in 1955 as grandparents took up bottlefeeding to release new mothers for paid work was reversed in 1964 (Brainerd and Overfield, in Handwerker, II 1986). Like most Indians in the United States, most northern Indians, Inuit, and Aleut regarded unmaking and remaking marriages as more sensible than refusing to do so. Only Roman Catholics among them resisted divorce if a marriage worked out badly. Northern Indians, Inuit, and Aleut also continued to maintain far-flung family ties. Still, in groups like the Old Crow, governmental payment of child support directly to mothers lessened some women’s concern for formal marriage (Roth, XXII 1981). Northern Indians, Inuit, and Aleut were still recovering from population lows throughout the 20th century. Perhaps 2.5 million Indians in Canada and 1 million Inuit and Aleut in Alaska,

Canada, and Greenland in the early 16th century fell to about 140,000 in

1987). |

1900—101,000 in Canada, 28,000 in Alaska, and 11,000 in Greenland. Perhaps 42,000 Inuit and 14,000 Aleut lived in Alaska by 1980; 368,000 Indians,

25,000 Inuit, and 98,000 described as “mixed” in Canada by 1981; and 28,000 full-blooded and mixed Inuit in Greenland by 1970 (Thornton, XXII Most Spanish speakers who became United States citizens when Washington annexed the settler-proclaimed republic of Texas in 1845 and the region from there to California (after the subsequent war with Mexico in 1846-48) were either mestizos or full-blooded Indians. Still, Spanish missions had so acculturated them that their new rulers saw them as Mexicans, not as Indians.

202 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT The warfare of the 1840s left Spanish speakers in San Antonio short of males aged 15 to 29 in 1850 (Bradshaw and Bean, XXIV 1970). In 1870-80, Spanish speakers in San Antonio were still much more transient than other groups

in other locales, in length of local residence. Spanish speakers in the United States maintained high fertility well past the 1950s. When the number born to Spanish-speaking women of all ages was divided by the number of those women aged 35 to 44 in 1969 (excluding Puerto Ricans and post-1960 Cuban refugees, found mainly in eastern states), the resulting figure was 3.760. For the similarly large mestiza Puerto Rican group, it was 3.568. Yet it was only 2.750 for other Spanish speakers, visibly below 3.003 for all Spanish speakers and 2.923 for non-Spanish speakers of European ancestry (Alvarez and Bean, in Mindel and Habenstein, XXV 1976). Women born in Mexico but living in the United States averaged 4.429. Controlling for income, 1970 southwest United States fertility was highest for

Mexican-Americans, next highest for non-Spanish-speaking Europeandescended (Anglos), and lowest for African-Americans (Lee and Roberts, XXV 1975). Like the American Indians, to whom many, though far from all, MexicanAmericans were partly kin, Mexican-Americans were concerned with more than just the nuclear family. About 30% of Mexican-American heads of families in both 1960 and 1970 led households with adults other than the spouses present (Frisbie and others, XXV 1984). Those with Spanish surnames in 1960 were 2.51 times as apt to be in three-generation households led by a grandparent as Anglos across the United States, and 1.17 times as apt to be in one led by someone in the middle generation (Alvarez and Bean, in Mindel and Habenstein, XXV 1976). Mutual support within larger families may explain why infant mortality in 1979-83 in Corpus Christi, Texas, did not show the same negative correlation with socioeconomic level for Spanish speakers as for others (Levin and Markides, XXV 1985). Care for expectant mothers and newborns counteracted lower socioeconomic status for Hispanics, whose median family income in 1986 was only about 66% of median family income for Anglos (African-Americans’ was 57%). True, fewer Hispanics than African-Americans were unemployed (9.3% in 1988, to 12.2% for AfricanAmericans and 4.6% for Anglos), though, on the other hand, one in three Hispanics (to one in five African-Americans and one in eight Anglos) lacked medical insurance. Yet the median income difference was hard to reconcile with 10.9% of African-Americans age 25 or over having at least a bachelor’s degree in 1986 compared with 8.4% of Hispanics and 20.1% of Anglos, or with Hispanic women earning only 53% as much as Anglo men in 1986 compared with 61% for African-American women and 67% for Anglo women. Still, all of these figures taken together make it understandable that 31.1% of African-Americans and 27.3% of Hispanics were at or below the poverty level

in 1986, according to United States Census Bureau estimates. High Mexican-American fertility was linked with the tendency of lower-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 203 income Mexican-American men to do farm work. African-American men and Anglo men were more apt to do other types of work, in which children to help earn would be less wanted. In southern Texas, a husband’s occupation (farm or nonfarm) clearly determined a wife’s fertility level, regardless of whether

the husband or the wife had been born in Mexico or the United States, whether he or she had ever worked before or after marriage, or her age when she first gave birth, among Mexican-Americans (Whiteford, in Handwerker, II 1986). Overall, farm workers’ wives averaged 5.685, to 4.415 for other wives. Cuban refugees maintained low fertility as they worked to make their way in a new country. Many were descended from Spaniards who migrated to Cuba

after the United States forced Spain to recognize Cuban independence in 1898. Most other Spanish speakers in the United States maintained aboveaverage fertility, though their fertility declined in parallel with overall United States levels. In 1989, almost all the 34% of Spanish-surnamed people who lived in California, the 21% in Texas, and the 8% in other areas annexed in 1848 were Mexican-Americans. Most of the Puerto Ricans were among the 11% in New York state, 4% in Illinois, and 3% in New Jersey. Most of the Cubans were among the 8% in Florida, while all three groups were represented in the 11% scattered across the remaining states. Fully five in eight Hispanics (who formed 9% of the United States population by 1990) were still in formerly Mexican territory, living much like their forebears. They largely focused on the expanded kin circle, like their Mediterranean European and indigenous American ancestors, and insofar as possible treated the nuclear family as living within that expanded circle. They also used initially European institutions like godparenthood to link with that expanded circle those beyond its limits whose support was wanted.

The first English colonies on North America’s Atlantic shore, Virginia (1607) and Massachusetts (1620), displayed very different social patterns. Virginia’s settlers were expected to provide marketable products to England. Some came as family groups. Many (more men than women) came as single workers, some free, some as bondservants who would regain free status when their terms of service ended. Others, of African origin, came as slaves whose manumission would depend entirely on a master’s decision. (English law did not enable slaves to purchase freedom, for all their earnings legally belonged to their masters.) In contrast, Massachusetts’ new inhabitants came almost entirely in family groups. England’s government cared more to remove their reli-

gious zealotry from England than to promote trade through them. Those who came to Massachusetts, other New England colonies, and the middle colonies of New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania found life healthier than in England or elsewhere in western Europe, and healthier than in ma-

larial areas farther south, like the Chesapeake Bay region or the coastal lowlands of the Carolinas and Georgia. More than 84% of those born before 1700 in Andover, Massachusetts, reached age 21 (Vinovskis, XXV 1978). Well over 85% of those born in the first three generations in Plymouth also

204 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT reached age 21 (Demos, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979). Birth expectancy for those born in Deerfield between 1745 and 1765 was over 45 (Swedlund and others, in Ward and Weiss, II 1976). Under these favorable circumstances, families could be large. In 17th-century Plymouth and Andover, more than 8.5 were born to the average mother, for parents with a completed marriage that remained unbroken until the wife passed 45 (Fox and Quitt, II] 1980), as well as for those married in Sturbridge between 1730 and 1759 (Osterud and Fulton, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979). In 1700, the average completed family for all New England was more like 6 (Mintz and Kellogg, XXV 1988), though localities ranged from 5.2 to 7.8 (Seward, XXV 1978). Large families continued to be the norm during most of the 18th century, but places like Hingham began to

show a decrease. Completed Hingham marriages contracted in 1716-40 showed an average of 6.74, compared with 7.59 for those contracted before 1691 and 6.23 for those contracted in 1781-1800 (Smith, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979). Sturbridge still showed 7.32 for completed marriages of 1760-99, but then fell to 6.02 for those of 1800-19 and 5.30 for those of 1820-39. Still, completed Deerfield families averaged 7.06 for all of 1670-1850 (Swedlund and others, in Ward and Weiss, II 1976). Not all marriages were completed. In 17th-century New England, 20% to 30% of all marriages were remarriages (Grigg, in Rotberg and Rabb, II] 1980). By the 18th century, only about 10% of marriages were remarriages in both New England and the middle colonies. In 18th-century Plymouth, two in five ever-wed men who died after age 50 married more than once, whereas just over one in four ever-wed women who died after age 50 married more than once. At first, marriage came noticeably earlier for women than for men, but marriage ages later increased for women and decreased for men. Average age at marriage was 19 for wives and 25.3 for husbands in the fourth generation (Fox and Quitt, II] 1980). Marriage age at Plymouth was 20.6 for women and 27.0 for men if the wife was born in 1600-25, rising to 22.3 for women and declining to 24.6 for men if she was born in 1675-1700 (Vinovskis, XXIV 1981). Average New England marriage age was about 24 for women and 26 for men in 1700-49 (Ruggles, III 1987). In Massachusetts alone in 1750-99, it was about 23 for women and 25 for men (Vinovskis, XXIV 1981). In the 18th century, both sexes began marrying earlier. In three large, early New England genealogies, women born by 1699 married at almost 23 and those born later, at 21.5, whereas men born by 1680 wed at over 27 and those born later, at almost 26 (Adams and Kasakoff, in Dyke and Morrill, III 1980). Some places saw countertrends toward later marriage for both sexes in the 18th century, perhaps as unmarried men left to seek new opportunity elsewhere. Remaining unwed women either waited longer to marry while remaining men took more time to choose, or never wed at all (Vinovskis, XXIV 1981). Such realities may have spurred the 19th-century rise of a belief in women’s asexuality that made their presence alongside men more acceptable in secondary schools, higher schools, and workplaces (Guttentag, II 1983).

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 205 The New England spinster/schoolmarm became a familiar 19th-century personage. Sturbridge shows the trend to rising marriage ages: 19.54 for women

and 24.84 for men born in 1730-59; 21.61 for women and 25.51 for men born in 1760-79; 23.62 for women and 25.61 for men born in 1780-99, who would marry after 1800; and 25.54 for women and 27.63 for men born in 1820-39 (Osterud and Fulton, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979). Marriage age, at least for women, came to be influenced by socioeconomic status. In Hingham, marriage ages of daughters born to taxpayers who had

wed in 1721-80 rose steadily from 23.3 for the wealthiest 20% (the “best catches,” undoubtedly sought first) to 23.5 for the next 20%, 23.6 for the mid-

dle 20%, and 24.5 for the lower 40%. Yet nontaxpayers’ daughters wed youngest of all, at 22.7, perhaps wanting to begin bearing potential workers like cottage-industry daughters in England at that time (Smith, in Vinovskis,

XXV 1979). Still, for Hingham marriages of 1821-40, daughters of the wealthiest 40% of taxpayers wed latest, at over 24. They may have been more willing than those less well off to wait for an appropriate candidate, as unmarried men sought opportunity elsewhere. Daughters of the middle 20% married at 22.1; those of the lower 40% and nontaxpayvers all married at about 23, as percentages of out-migrating and never-marrying New England women continued to rise. Hingham’s experience was partly paralleled in northeast Mississippi in 1910, where daughters of the few African-American small landholders wed at an average of 19.7. Next came daughters of renters (like 18th-

century midlevel Hingham taxpayers) at 20.9 for European-American and 21.0 for African-American (lower in overall community status). Daughters of

European-American landowners married latest (at 21.1), like 19th-century Hingham’s wealthiest daughters (McBride, XXVI 1988). Quakers’ marriage ages in 18th-century Pennsylvania were much like New Englanders’—-22.0 for women and 26.5 for men in marriages in which the wife was born before 1730, rising to 23.4 for women and 26.8 for men in marriages in which she was born in 1756-85. Completed families in which the last child was born by 1775 averaged 7.51 births, falling to 6.23 if the last birth was in 1776-1800 and 5.12 if the last birth was in 1801-30. (The percentage

of families reaching completion rose from 61% for the pre-1775 group to 69% for 1776-1800 and 73% for 1801-30 lastborns, as mortality declined among this usually fairly well off group.) Average births in all families in the three cohorts were 6.68, 5.67, and 5.02. Averages for noncompleted families went from 5.39 to 4.45, but then increased slightly to 4.76, reflecting Quakers’ continued improvement in longevity (Wells, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979). Quakers’ experience was better than most. In the northern settlements, the rise of towns and cities countered general 18th-century downward mortality trends by increasing the frequency of epidemics. Thus northern states’ overall mortality changed little in the 19th century (Vinovskis, in Eberstadt, II] 1981).

Expectancies closely reflected greater epidemic and pollution dangers in urban industrial areas, as well as variations in socioeconomic standing

206 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT (Swedlund and others, in Ward and Weiss, II 1976). Those born in Massachusetts in 1860 could expect to live past 45 unless they were in a town of more than 10,000, where their expectancy dropped by almost five years for women (almost a year less than all women born in England in 1850) and nine years for

men (close to three years less than all men born in England in 1850). Mid19th-century Deerfield showed a clear correspondence between socioeconomic level and survivorship for males at all ages and for females at almost all ages up to 12, when girls at lower levels might start to earn but girls at higher levels were still seen as consumers. Female survival rates after age 12 reflect

those differences, remaining close to male rates at lower levels but going higher at higher levels (Adams and Kasakoff, in Dyke and Morrill, II] 1980). From New England and the middle states to the north central or Great Lakes region, settled after the colonies won independence in the 1780s, one’s urban or rural location and/or one’s level of affluence determined whether one’s life expectancy resembled the 45 of 18th-century Deerfield or the 39 for those

born in Massachusetts in 1850 (two years less than in the whole United States). Mortality rates declined from Virginia southward throughout the colonial era (Vinovskis, in Schutjer and Stokes, III 1984), but remained higher than in

other regions. The ratio of men to women also remained high, both for African-ancestry slaves and for European-ancestry free (Vinovskis, XXV 1978), making it hard to form families. Wives of colonists in 17th-century Maryland seldom bore more than five children before a spouse died (Carr and Walsh, in Gordon, XXV 1978). In the 18th century, southerners of European ancestry married earlier and more nearly universally, and had more births per couple, than 18th-century Swedes (Vinovskis, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979). Yet they bore fewer than their New England contemporaries. Having many children may have made New Englanders give less attention than southerners to nieces and nephews. By 1790, they were more apt than southerners to live

near others with the same surname, though by 1900, migration helped to make them less apt to do so than southerners (Smith, XXIV 1989). In colonial high-mortality conditions, southerners needed to turn to deceased spouses’ siblings, nephews and nieces, or even cousins oftener than did northerners. Southerners’ sense of the importance of a large family circle, therefore, resembled attitudes in regions more influenced by Spain or Portugal than attitudes in New England. Bristol, Rhode Island, showed only 3% of the 1689

population in households including adults other than spouses (Laslett, III 1977), with 53.7% of household members being children and only 10.1% of couples currently being childless (Demos, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979). In contrast, Virginia showed 54% as childless couples and only 10% of household members as children, in its first generation in 1625. Fully 40.9% of the 1625 Virginia population were bondservants or slaves, categories virtually unknown in Bristol in 1689. Virginia in 1625 resembled Britain’s West Indies plantation colony of Bridgetown in Barbados in 1680, showing 56.4% of formally mar-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT , 207 ried couples as childless (slave couples could not legally achieve formal married status), 11.9% of those in households as children, and 60.2% of the popu-

lation as bondservants or slaves (Hecht, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979). | As the 18th century waned, New Englanders began lessening births by later marriage for women. European-ancestry southerners did not begin decreasing births for another century, after a further decline in mortality (Vinovskis, in Eberstadt, III 1981). Average size of free family households in the 1790 census ranged from 5.42 in still-unhealthy South Carolina, with 4.23 in malarial

Charleston and the surrounding county, to 6.04 in Maryland, where many swamps had been drained and some noncoastal areas had been settled. Family households that included slaves ranged from 5.66 in Maine to 9.51 in South Carolina, with the Charleston region averaging 17.32 (47.95 where the largest plantations were) but the foothills only 6.97 (Greven, in Laslett, II] 1972). As young men left the Atlantic coast for the interior, they found the French already in the lower Mississippi valley. By 1770, French settlers’ slaves were as

much as 75% of total population in some areas (Walsh and Wells, XXIV 1978). Free whites’ reliance on extended families put almost one in five of them in families with adult kin other than spouses. Young men’s move westward decreased the percentage of the total United States population who were married. In the regions they went to, they could not marry readily because women were scarce, whereas unwed women were apt to remain unwed in the regions they left. Nonetheless, 19th-century frontier areas showed more children per completed family than areas farther east. In Oneida County in central New York state from 1790 to 1865, the second generation bore more than their parents, but the third bore fewer, with women

born in Whitestown from 1806 to 1815 averaging only 3.6 (Ryan, XXIV 1981). Fertility declined in all of rural New York state from 1825 to 1845 as young men left, some taking wives, others not yet married. Parents everywhere found that they could not plan securely on having a child nearby (Ransom and Sutch, XXIV 1986). They therefore began saving for themselves and having fewer children (Lewis, XXIV 1983). In Ohio, average numbers born fell by 40% from 1810 to 1860 (Leet, XXIV 1974), as rising costs of land made it

harder for children to stay. Between 1760 and 1870, 23 northern states showed land availability correlating with fertility. Women’s marriage ages probably also rose as land grew scarcer (Schapiro, XXIV 1982). Women’s marriage ages in rural areas became highest in the early 20th century for

daughters of landowners, next highest for renters, and lowest for hired workers. In New England, departures opened up cheap farms for those willing to undertake the hard work required. Yet declining fertility in 19th-century New England suggests that other factors were more important there than land prices. These included rising literacy (opening minds to alternatives to depending on

children or other kin), economic diversification (enabling both women and men to work outside the home, which raised child-rearing’s economic cost if

208 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT women’s wages were foregone), belief that one could influence one’s own future (doubtless promoted by constitution-building, in the United States as in France), and continued concern to prepare each child for a life that was increasingly apt to be more than a day away. Lower rural birth rates explain 78% of total fertility decline from 1810 to 1840 and 75% of total fertility decline from 1840 to 1860, supporting these arguments (Vinovskis, in Schutjer and Stokes, III 1984). The importance of literacy is shown by the fact that high illiteracy was the single best predictor of high marital fertility in every state in 1850 and 1860 (Vinovskis, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979)—better than high ratio of men to women (raising fertility), high value of farm land (lowering fertility), immigration (raising fertility), or high urbanization, which still lowered fertility in 1860. That would change after 1880 as more southern and eastern Europeans arrived. It was already changing where Irish immigrants were numerous (La Sorte, XXIV 1974). In view of early-19th-century New England’s surplus of women, survival rates of only 64% reaching age 20 among women born in Massachusetts in 1830 (scarcely better than 18th-century France’s 50% to 60% reaching age 25) and only 74% reaching 20 for those born in 1890 suggest selective neglect of females. The 17th-century rate of at least 84% reaching age 20 was not surpassed until the 20th century, when 89% of those born in 1920 reached age 20 (Willigan and Lynch, III 1982). The 50% higher female-than-male mortality rate in Massachusetts in 1850 for tuberculosis, whose primary remedy is simply rest and careful attention, contrasted strongly with only 15% higher in 1895. By 1895, more women earned outside the home (Hammel and others, XXIV 1983). An increasingly high male surplus by age among children in 1800 to 1860 in agricultural Deerfield, where girls were not seen as helpful in the fields, also contrasts instructively with increasingly high female proportion by age among children in 1800 to 1860 in industrial Shelburne, where girls could do factory work. Still, selective neglect would not account for all the differences. Families with more sons would seek rural areas, where they could work in the fields, whereas families with more daughters would seek industrial areas, where they could earn (Adams and Kasakoff, in Dyke and Morrill, III 1980). Massachusetts was not one of the 19th century’s healthier states, partly because it was comparatively urbanized. In 1890, when large cities were still the deadliest places to live in every state, urban mortality varied with density of habitation. The number of people per 100 square feet of dwelling space affected mortality even more than number per acre of land, for more-crowded dwellings meant more-unsanitary conditions. Infants and children fared worst among those not of European ancestry, almost entirely African-Americans, for cities held few Asians and almost no indigenous Americans. Foreign-born parents experienced the next highest infant and child mortality. Low in socio-

economic status, they were relegated with non-Europeans to the most crowded and polluted districts, where risks of fire and accident as well as epi-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 209

1978). |

demic disease were greatest. If data are controlled for density and age composition, adult non-Europeans, European-descended native-borns, and immigrant Europeans showed no difference in mortality (Higgs and Booth, XXIV

Ever-increasing immigration in the 19th and early 20th centuries contributed to decreasing life expectancies. Immigration joined industrialization and urbanization in driving up urban densities, as percentage in cities rose while percentage in rural areas declined. Yet rural areas remained healthier than cit-

ies until after 1910. About half the 200,000 or so who entered the future United States from 1741 to 1760 were African slaves and about half came from Europe, more Africans than in most previous decades. (Though the largest group of Europeans in those 20 years came from Germany, they were a fraction of all 18th-century German emigrants. Several times as many

18th-century Germans moved elsewhere in Europe—mainly to eastern Europe—as crossed the Atlantic. Transoceanic emigration did not outpace in-

ternational migration within Europe until the 19th century.) In 1761-75, fewer than 85,000 of the more than 220,000 newcomers were from Africa (Fogelman, XXIV 1989). Thereafter, as the new country discouraged slave trading and then eliminated slavery in 1865, Europeans overwhelmingly dominated the massive immigration of the 19th and early 20th centuries. Immigration only fell off when World War I interrupted Atlantic travel in 1914-18. Then legislation was put into effect in 1924 restricting entry to national quotas

based on current population percentage, which greatly favored those from western Europe north of the Pyrenees. Each immigrant group brought its own marriage and fertility patterns. Its members, their children, and even their grandchildren usually bore more than their native-born neighbors, even if they wed relatively late. In rural Texas, for

example, Roman Catholic and Lutheran Germans in one community both married at about the same age (22.39 for women, 26.26 for men, for those married in 1890-1910). Lutherans averaged one child fewer than Roman Catholic Germans, who in turn averaged one child fewer than Poles in a nearby community whose women wed at 19.50 (men at 23.20) in 18951904. A German group of the small Wend sect in another community, marry-

ing at 21.97 for women and 25.23 for men in 1875-1900, averaged fewer births per couple than German Roman Catholics who wed in 1890~—1910 but

more than Lutherans who wed in 1890-1910. Yet all the groups averaged more than the 4.3 for women born in 1865-69 in the general Europeanancestry United States population (Fliess, XXIV 1987). Children could still help with agricultural chores in those rural areas that

were slow to take up the mechanization begun in 1840 with Cyrus McCormick’s reaper. In urban areas, large families became more hindrance than help to immigrants, in view of governmental insistence that universal primary schooling replace child labor. Once the oldest could earn, they often were pressed not to marry until others could earn. As many as 40% of wage-

210 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT worker families in the United States in the late 19th century may have been always too near to poverty for peace of mind (Palmer, in Levine, VI 1984). That surely helps to explain that from 1867 on, as divorce rates for successive marriage cohorts rose, they rose most for cohorts who married when the country was doing less well than shortly before they wed (Preston, XXV 1977), as well

as that divorce rates rose faster in the 19th and 20th centuries among wage workers than among the salaried and self-employed. Wage workers’ income

seldom increased with age, as it tended to do for the salaried and selfemployed. That unhappy reality helped to persuade skilled workers to follow the lead of the salaried and self-employed in decreasing fertility, as in Buffalo and in Erie County in New York in 1855-1900 (Palmer, in Levine, VI 1984). Yet in that same area, unskilled workers’ fertility was still increasing, partly because of differing ethnic makeup. By the late 19th century, all groups’ fertility was beginning to decline in the western European countries from which immigrants among skilled workers usually came; but fertility was not declining in the southern and eastern European lands from which most unskilled workers

came. Immigrant Europeans might be short of women. So were AfricanAmericans in northern cities, as men came alone from the south to seek work

(Farley and Allen, XXVI 1987). When they did marry, both AfricanAmericans and immigrant couples had more children than European-ancestry native-born couples. The 1900 census showed an average of 2.42 children for all native-born women of European ancestry age 15 and over, married or single; 2.31 for those born in England (where fertility was already declining) and 2.32 for those born in Ireland (who married late); but 2.89 for those born in

Germany, 2.85 for those born elsewhere in northwest Europe, and 3.3 for those born in Mediterranean or eastern Europe (Vinovskis, in Schutjer and Stokes, III 1984). At that time, the average completed family for all women aged 45 to 49 was 4.7. Need to share limited resources in wage-worker families helped to raise the national percentage of three-generation families from 2.4% in 1850 to 3.4% in 1870 and 7.3% in 1880. In addition, 1.9%, 3.0%, and 4.0% in those respective years were multiple families (Seward, XXV 1978). By 1880, 4.7% of families in the industrial northeast were multiple. Another 8.8% included adult kin other than spouses. In the still family-minded south, corresponding percentages were 4.0% and 6.5%, to only 3.1% and 6.0% in the north central region.

Industrial Providence, Rhode Island, showed 14.5% of those marrying in 1865 living with kin and an even larger 17.5% taking kin in with them (Chudacoff, in Hareven and Vinovskis, XXIV 1978). Even in more rural Indiana, among those of European ancestry in 1820, 18.3% of commercial households (primarily shopkeepers), 10.9% of manufacturing households (primarily artisans such as blacksmiths), and 8.7% of agricultural ones included three or more adults (Modell, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979). Presumably,

many of these extended households belonged to the salaried and selfemployed, as in 19th-century middle-class British circles. In Rhode Island in

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 211 1875, farm households were likeliest (more than 12%) to be three-generation, to more than 7% for nonmanual workers and more than 6% for manual workers (Pryor, in Laslett, IIT 1972). Many in 19th-century Utah Mormon extended households—extended by the unusual (for Europeans) practice of polygyny—were women from regions

farther east in North America or even Europe, where migration had made men scarce. Among Utah Mormon wives born in 1830-39, 29% were married

at some time to a polygynous husband, though 39% experienced only one marriage to a husband who never married any other woman even if the wife died and left him alone. Moreover, only 7.7% of all Utah Mormon women born in 1800-80 were ever in a polygynous household (Bean and others, XXIV 1987). Those born before 1842 bore 7.4 children if they remained in their first marriage until age 45. Those born in 1842-80 bore 8.2 children in completed first marriages, but those born in 1880-1910 bore only 4.7. First wives bore more in polygynous households (Bean and Mineau, XXIV 1986). A husband who took a second wife seldom did so before 9 years, or a third one before 14 years, even in the earliest and most polygynous generation of men

born before 1820. Polygynous husbands in that generation averaged 3.9 wives, to fewer than 3 in later years. First wives born before 1820 averaged 7.9

births in a completed marriage, 8.3 if born in 1820-39, and 9.0 if born in 1840-59. Second wives averaged 5.9, 7.0, and 6.5 for those cohorts. Third or later wives averaged 5.1, 5.9, and 5.5, respectively, scarcely more than the nationwide European-ancestry population of the time and far fewer than the 7.4, 8.1, and 8.4 of wives in monogamous Utah Mormon marriages. Still, variations within those averages ranged from 10.0 for first wives married at 15 to 19 to husbands of 15 to 19, to 2.9 for third or later wives married at 30 to 34 (usually because widowed) to husbands of 40 to 49. In rural Utah’s healthful

climate, mothers born in 1820-59 experienced infant mortality of only 10.51% (9.36% if born in 1860-99), far lower than late-19th- and early-20thcentury urban averages on either side of the Atlantic. Firstborn 19th-century Utah Mormon daughters bore more than lastborn daughters. This might be attributed to cohort effect, since fertility was declining across the nation. All daughters of mothers with many children were apt to bear fewer than their mothers, suggesting that being in large families might have made them prefer smaller families (Anderton and others, XXIV 1987). Still, as recently as 1983, fertility among European-ancestry women in Utah was about 60% higher than across the whole United States. Perhaps as a consequence, although as high a percentage of women in Utah worked outside the home as in other states, twice as high a proportion of working women as

in other states worked part rather than full time. Universal fertility decline plus renewed mortality decline formed a great dual theme in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Health and sanitation services caught up with the rapid urbanization that eventually made North America the continent with the largest percentage of inhabitants in cities of

212 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 20,000 or more. By the 1960s, 58% of North Americans were in such cities, compared with 45% in non-Soviet Europe and 35% in both the Soviet Union and Latin America (Sanchez Albornoz, XXVII 1974). From 1870 to 1930, both rural and urban fertility in the United States declined at parallel rates, even in the south, reaching levels comparable to those of mid-19th-century native-born New Englanders of European ancestry and native-born European-

American urban women across the nation. (Not until 1930 were most Furopean-American women aged 20 to 44 both native-born and urban.) In 1880-1920, fertility dropped even more rapidly among African-Americans than among European-Americans. In 1920-60, improvements in overall health that aided African-Americans even more than European-Americans reversed the relative pace of their fertility declines. After 1960, fertility again de-

clined more rapidly among African-Americans than among EuropeanAmericans (Lindert, in Lee, III 1977). African-Americans’ marriage chances dropped more rapidly than European-Americans’ because of socioeconomic factors to be discussed later. Though the south led the country in fertility during the 19th century, dropping least of any region in 1870—1900 and remaining higher than most as late as 1930, it was lowest in fertility by the 1970s (Rindfuss, XXV 1978). Levels of family wealth, as well as levels of current income, influenced childbearing (Zimmer, XXV 1981). For those having children in 1947-75, they had more if they thought that they were better off than their parents, fewer if they thought that they were not (Moffitt, XXV 1982). Wealthy parents’ children continued to survive at higher rates (Essock-Vitale, XXV 1984). Yet even in 1900, infant and child mortality differences between wage workers and salaried workers were less than in 1911 in England and Wales (Haines, If] 1985). Race affected mortality rates and life expectancies

more than did class. European immigrants’ daughters had higher fertility levels in 1900 than native-born European-ancestry women in New England and the north central region. They may have been making up in part for childless older kin (Ruggles and King, XXIV 1985). In 1900, 13.5% of adult married immigrant women

aged 45 to 49 had no children, to 11% of native-born European-ancestry women, 12.4% of second-generation women, and 10.1% of those who had immigrated as children. By 1940, childlessness for all ever-wed women aged 90 or over rose to 15.2% (Hauser and Kitagawa, in Spengler and Duncan, II] 1956), though all women 50 or over averaged 3.315 births. That meant 3.910 for actual mothers, with 4.781 for those married before age 20 (5.053 for ac-

tual mothers), but 2.769 for those who waited until 20 or later to marry (3.411 for actual mothers). Yet in the south, the few European immigrants’ daughters had lower fertility

in 1900 than native-born European-ancestry women. They may have been conscious of being in a minority, which is apt to lower fertility as couples seek

higher status, unless they decide to seek strength in numbers (Anderson, in Coale and Watkins, VI 1986). For example, in California, Japanese- and

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 213 Chinese-Americans’ fertilities are lower than for both European-Americans in California and Chinese- and Japanese-Americans in Hawaii. In Hawaii, where there is no majority group, the three groups have similar fertility (Johnson and Nishida, XXV 1980). Japanese- and Chinese-Americans were more than half as much likelier as the general population to be in three-generation families, in

the nation as a whole (Kitano and others, in Mindel and Habenstein, XXV 1976). In that way, if not in high fertility, they continued the patterns of their Asian forebears. Both used educational and economic advances to overcome initially strong discrimination against them as cheap laborers. Both were brought to work on Hawaiian plantations. Chinese were brought to help build the 19th-century transcontinental railways, Japanese to work in California aariculture. Eventual Chinese- and Japanese-Americans’ success eased the path for other Asian immigrants after the 1950s, whether from Korea, Southeast Asia, or India. Still, like European-Americans, Asian groups maintained famil-

iar patterns even while adapting them (in terms of elements like marriage ages) to majority patterns in their new homeland. In a possible parallel, Lutherans in Nicollet County in Minnesota bore more when in a community that was about half Lutheran and half Roman Catholic than when in a largely Lutheran community. Roman Catholic fertility did not vary with percentage Roman Catholic between communities, however (Prehn, XXV 1968). Fertility increased in the United States during the 1950s and 1960s, in response to several factors: prosperity after World War II; low birth and immigration levels in the 1920s and the depressed 1930s; and expansion in higher education, which helped to increase wages by postponing many young adults’ entry into the labor force as well as enabling them to enter it at higher levels. Moreover, income tax exemptions eased child-rearing costs. Total fertility actually increased in 1950-55 to more than three children per woman, but then declined again, reaching fewer than two by 1980-85. Having both a son anda daughter may not have seemed necessary. Certainly, more than two children seemed less and less necessary, as the likelihood of losing a child before age 15 decreased from 61% in 1900 to 16% in 1940 and only 4% in 1976. Survival to age 15 rose from 79% in 1900 to 94% in 1940 and then to 98% in 1976 (Uhlenberg, XXV 1980). Variations continued among women of differing ancestries, however. In 1969, the number born to all women of a given ancestry divided by the number of women aged 35 to 44 of that ancestry varied from 2.386 for Russian, 2.439 for Italian, 2.513 for Polish, 2.824 for English, 2.725 for other European, and 2.923 for all European, to 3.019 for German,

3.122 for Irish, 3.56 for Puerto Rican, 3.649 for African, and 3.76 for Spanish-surname women, with 4.429 for those born in Mexico (Alvarez and Bean, in Mindel and Habenstein, XXV 1976). It is, therefore, not surprising that from 1917 to 1980, about 20% to 25% of women bore about half the children, with the other half distributed among the remaining 75% to 80% of women (Vaupel and Goodwin, XXV 1987). Small families became the rule and large ones the exception among most

214 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT groups in the 20th century. People, therefore, became increasingly likely to be

responsible both for growing children and for aging parents. How long a woman might have both minor children and aged parents (as life expectancies

lengthened) increased from about 5 years in 1800 to 6 years in 1900, 7.5 years in 1940, and 9.5 years in 1960 (Menken, II 1985). Once childbearing lessened after 1970, it went down to seven years in 1980. From 1800 to 1970, life expectancy for women in the United States doubled and years spent in childbearing halved. For women born before 1786, median duration of marriage was less than for those born after 1900, even with rising divorce rates (Wells, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979). It was more than 2.5 times as likely in 1979-81 as in 1900-02 that both bride and groom ina first marriage would live at least 50 more years (Metropolitan, XXV 1986). Chances of disruption by death within 40 years of marriage for a woman of 22 marrying a man of 25 diminished from 67% in 1900 to 50% in 1940 and 36% in 1976, whereas chances of disruption by divorce went from 4% to 13% and

then 24% (Uhlenberg, XXV 1980). By 1988, there was a 51% chance of a marriage entered that year ending in divorce; yet average marriage duration was more than 25 years, as chance of divorce decreased to 42% for marriages of 5 years duration, 30% for 10 years, 14% for 20 years, 4% for 30 years, and under 1% for 40 years. Most of the divorces on which those estimates were based came in early-marrying cohorts, before marriage ages began to rise in the late 1960s. Because those who marry earlier tend to be more apt to divorce, both in Europe and in its overseas offshoots (Carlson, XXV 1979), di-

vorce rates may well continue the decline they began in the late 1980s. First-year divorces, especially, come oftenest if there is a large age difference between spouses or if at least one spouse is very young (Wilson, XXV 1982).

Median marriage ages mean more than average ages, if marriages are changing rapidly. In 1987, those medians were 23.6 for all United States women to 25.7 for all United States men, a 2.1-year age gap. In 1979, that gap had been greater, at 2.6 years—6.9 years if the husband was remarrying but the wife was not, 0.2 years if she was remarrying but he was not, and 4.3 years if both were remarrying (Wilson, XXV 1982). The gap had been smaller

in 1974, when 21.1 and 23.1 were the median ages, and in 1957, when the median ages were 20.3 and 22.6; but it had been greater in 1946 (median ages 20.5 and 23.7), and especially in 1900 (median ages 22.0 and 25.8), when 8.8% of all women in their 40s had never married. Median ages in 1900 were about two years later for European-American women and men than for others. Between 1930 and 1950, European-Americans began to marry earlier, closing the gap between themselves and others. Then, in 1950, others’ marriage ages began to increase, just when European-Americans’ reached their lowest levels. European-Americans’ marriage ages did not begin increasing until the late 1960s. The 1950s were distinctive, with overall mean marriage ages of only 20 for women, 22 for men, and almost one in three first births to women under 20.

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 215 The tendency for divorce rates to rise in each successive cohort was masked for the small 1930s birth cohort by its high marriage rate, which made the ratio of divorces to marriages appear to remain level in the 1950s. Only in the 1960s did the ratio of divorces to marriages rise again, bringing home a need to cope with some unhappy realities. Increasingly, divorced women had to choose among raising children on limited child allowances from fathers, more than 40% of whom failed to pay consistently; obtaining government aid; or leaving children in someone else’s care so that the women could earn. Yet women’s earnings were less than 70% of men’s. Even full-time work for a divorced mother was apt to mean an income less adequate for growing children’s growing needs than a married couple’s income, especially if the mother in a two-parent household worked at least part-time as children matured, as was true increasingly from the 1960s on. Though a single parent might remarry, children could be at risk from stepparents. A stepchild in the United States in the 1970s was 6.9 times as much at risk of physical harm as a child living with both natural parents if under age 3, 5.1 times as much if aged 3 to 5, 3.3 times as much if aged 6 to 9, 3.0 times as much as if aged 10 to 13, and still 3.3 times as much if aged 14 to 17 (Daly and Wilson, in Hausfater and Hrdy, II 1984). Not surprisingly, teenagers in the 1980s moved away from home sooner if with a stepparent than if with both biological parents (White and Booth, XXV 1985). These concerns helped to make issues of child care and parental leave for

family emergency prominent in 1988’s electoral campaign. Many in the United States wanted to emulate western Europe, where more provisions for infant and child care and for family emergency leave from work had been made earlier, as women went to work outside the home. Even with such provisions, average births per woman were unlikely to go much above two again, in view of both economic prospects and mortality rates. (Still, larger population meant 1990 saw almost as many births as a 1950s boom year.) A 1970 study showed that both parents began to lose their equanimity (the father) or sense of satisfaction (the mother) after a third child arrived (Nye and Berardo, XXV 1973). Besides, the possibility of divorce made it advisable to have only one or

two children to support. Between 1973 and 1985, European-American women were 59% likelier to divorce if their parents had divorced than if that had not happened, whereas European-American men were 32% likelier to do so. African-American women were only 15% likelier to do so and AfricanAmerican men, only 16% likelier, but more in their parental generation had been divorced (Glenn and Kramer, XXV 1987). From the beginning, when they arrived as slaves, African-Americans’ mortality at all ages has been higher than that of European-Americans. Though slaves in the United States were likelier than slaves in the West Indies to have a co-residing partner (Fogel and Engerman, in Smith and Laslett, XXV 1979),

only after 1730 was there any natural increase among slaves in the Chesapeake area (Kulikoff, XXVI 1977). Only after 1750 did all slaves as a

216 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT group show a natural increase (Gutman, in Medick and Sabean, III 1984). Pregnant women slaves might or might not be released from farm work (Campbell, XXVI 1984). Slaves’ average age at first birthgiving seldom was below 18 (Cody, XXVI 1977)—higher than first-birth ages in 2Oth-century west Africa, though perhaps not higher than in west Africa in earlier centuries.

Yet slave infants averaged only 5.5 pounds at birth (Steckel, XXVI 1982). Even in the 1980s, 12% of those who weighed less than 5.5 pounds at birth died within the first year, compared with 0.5% of those who weighed at least that much (Farley and Allen, XXVI 1987). State censuses for 1850 in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana showed 13.72% infant mortality for African-Americans (the few free as well as

the many slaves), to 6.14% for European-Americans. Slaves’ usual diet of corn, pork, and greens contained too little calcium for dark-skinned people, who received less vitamin D from sunshine than light-skinned people (to help absorb calcium), and too little iron for people whose development of the sickle-cell trait against malaria left them inclined toward anemia. Among African-Americans before 1865, more than half died before age 10. Many of those deaths involved diet deficiencies, either as a direct cause or as a strong contributing factor to the deadliness of some other illness (Kiple and Kiple, XXVI 1977). Because male mortality is higher at all ages in many societies, it is not surprising that one estimate for 1820-60 suggests a birth expectancy of only 28 for males to 32 for females (Eblen, XXVI 1971), or that by 1830, there were fewer than 100 males for every 100 females. That situation continues to the present day, despite a near-recovery around 1920. Local situations might differ. In Boston in 1880, males of all ages numbered 102.9 per 100 females, probably because some men who came to seek work had not yet brought their families (Pleck, in Vinovskis, XXV 1979). The gap between African-American and European-American birth expectancies narrowed in 1900-—20, widened in the 1920s, and gradually narrowed again in 1940-80. In 1940, the gaps were 7.2 years for men (55.6 for AfricanAmericans to 62.8 for European-Americans) and 10 years for women (57.4 to 67.4). By 1980, those gaps had declined to 5.8 years for men (64.9 to 70.7) and 5 years for women (73.1 to 78.1). Yet in the 1980s, they widened again to 7.4 years for men (64.9 to 72.3) and 5.5 for women (73.4 to 78.9) in 1988. The difference in infant mortality—7.4% versus 4.3% in 1940, 4.5% versus 2.3% in 1959, 2.2% versus 1.1% in 1979, and 1.8% versus 0.9% in 1987— remained so real that the two-to-one ratio held at all socioeconomic levels. Ev-

idently the strain of being in a minority group whose members were still struggling to reach majority-group socioeconomic and educational levels con-

tinued to take a toll (Hogue, XXVI 1988). Being visibly the descendants of former slaves was inevitably difficult. African-Americans were 20% of the total population in 1790 (2% in New England, 6% in the middle states, and 33% in the south). European immigration already lowered that to 19% of the total population of 6 million in 1800, 16%

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 217 of 24 million in 1850, and 12% by the early 20th century, where it remained. Though immigration from Europe declined after 1910, both total and AfricanAmerican numbers continued to grow. Total population grew from 76 million

in 1900 to 150 million in 1950 and 246 million by 1990, and AfricanAmericans increased from about 9 million to about 30 million. From the beginning, African-American fertility patterns paralleled majority patterns, with differences stemming from greater likelihood of being at the bottom of the socioeconomic structure. A slave woman was apt to bear six to seven children if she reached 45— fewer if she was on a small plantation, more if she was on a large one (Steckel, XXVI 1982). Her partner was less apt to be with her ona small plantation. Selection was limited on a small one, especially since slaves usually avoided any kin closer than second cousins, children of the same great-grandparents. (It also could be hard to find a distantly enough related partner on a large plantation, if there had been time for intermarrying.) Slave women on large planta-

tions were apt to begin giving birth later than those on small ones. Slave women also bore more children in the Atlantic states than in those on the Gulf of Mexico, even though women were scarce in the latter and men were scarce

in the former (Palmer, in Levine, VI 1984). _ African-American fertility rose in step with European-American fertility in the south in the 18th century. It fell in step with that of European-Americans in the 19th century and the early 20th, both in the south and elsewhere (Fogel and Engerman, in Smith and Laslett, XXVI 1979). African-American women

born in 1865-69 bore an average of 5.5, to 4.3 for European-American women born then; African-American women born in 1895-99 bore an aver-

age of 3.1, to 2.7 for European-American women born then; AfricanAmerican women born in 1905-09 bore an average of 2.7, to 2.3 for European-American women born then. Births rose for both groups for those

born in 1915-19 (3.0 to 2.5) and 1925-29 (3.8 to 3.1), and even 1935-39 (4.3 to 3.0). Then there was a sharp decline, already only 3.3 and 2.5 for those born in 1940-44 (Farley and Allen, XXVI 1987). Between 1880 and 1920, African-Americans’ birth rates fell faster than those of EuropeanAmericans, primarily because of tuberculosis. As their health improved from

1920 to 1960, African-Americans’ birth rates fell more slowly than European-Americans’, but then began again to drop more rapidly (Lindert, in Lee, III 1977). Among women 35 to 44 in 1969, European-Americans at the lowest income level had borne 3.54, to 4.22 for the lowest-income African-

Americans, but the highest-income African-Americans had borne 2.78, to 2.87 for the highest-income European-Americans (Nye and Berardo, XXV 1973). By 1987, using criteria of education rather than income, corresponding figures were 2.92 for European-Americans with less than high school education and 3.56 for African-Americans with less than high school education.

They declined consistently for each as education increased, with AfricanAmericans bearing at least slightly more at all levels (Hogue, XXVI 1988).

218 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Parallel fertility in the 1970s and 1980s did not mean African-Americans were still marrying at rates like those of European-Americans, as had been the case from 1865 and the end of slavery to at least 1920 and probably 1950. More European-Americans than before were not marrying by the 1980s, as percentages of single adults of both sexes living with their parents rose, but far more African-Americans were remaining unwed. Agricultural mechanization, which began in the 1920s, virtually ended sharecropping in most southern states by 1955. Yet that agricultural mechanization came before the available labor left for the cities, not afterward, as in 19th-century England. Millions of minimally educated farm worker African-Americans were pushed out by lack of work. Most sought jobs in the north’s industrial cities, though some went westward; but too few jobs awaited them. English 19th-century agricultural workers had left to enter expanding factories. Industrial growth in the United States after World War II was largely recovery from the 1930s depression. Men among both northern-born and southern-born African-Americans found it harder than their women to obtain steady work. (Did European-Americans fear African-American men as possible foes, like Spaniards in 16th-century Latin America, unwilling to let Indian men learn a craft that would enable them to maintain themselves in a city, yet willing to employ Indian women even as nursemaids in their homes?) African-American men have had at least twice the unemployment rate of European-American men since the mid1950s, and have earned less when they did find work. By the 1980s, AfricanAmerican women’s earnings equaled European-American women’s earnings (though both still earned more than 25% less than European-American men),

but African-American men’s earnings were still 16% less than those of FEuropean-American men for the same kind of work (Farley and Allen, XXVI

1987). The relatively insecure economic status of many northern urban African-American men has made them seem bad risks as potential husbands to prudent women (Farley and Bianchi, XXVI 1987), like seasonal workers in many Caribbean lands. High mortality in early years also means a continuing scarcity of African-American men compared with African-American women (Goldman and others, XXV 1984). Divorce rates among African-Americans have risen even more than among European-Americans. Yet remarriage rates

for African-American women have fallen since 1960, while rising for European-American women (Espenshade, XXV 1986), as more and more African-American women bear their children outside of marriage. In 1980, 43% of African-American births were to unmarried mothers, compared with only 17% in 1950-54 (or 6% for European-Americans in 1980). In 1980, 42% of African-American births took place within a marriage, 1% to widows, and 13% to divorced or separated mothers, to 81%, 1%, and 4%, respectively, for European-Americans in 1980, or 74%, 1%, and 8%, respectively, for African-Americans in 1950—54 (Hofferth, in Bongaarts and others, III 1987). By 1989, only 38% of African-American children were in a two-parent household, compared with 79.6% of European-American children and 67% of His-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 219 panic children. In 1970, those percentages had been 58.5%, 89.5%, and 77.7%, respectively. African-Americans deplored these changes. Yet they could scarcely try to use economic sanctions against unwed mothers, as was formerly done in Europe. The many who lacked property lacked the sanction of ineligibility for inheritance. Those who were not a woman’s employers could not deprive her of

work (Neckerman, XXVI 1988). In view of their minority situation, few wanted to endanger a newborn’s life by using social rejection. They could only use persuasion against the reality of youthful male joblessness, which discour-

aged many young women from marrying. Already, in newly agriculturally mechanized North Carolina in the 1950s, unwed women bore 22% to 23% of African-American infants (79% of all North Carolina births out of wedlock), to only 2% or 3% for European-Americans. By 1988, 28% of all United States

births came out of wedlock. Yet although European-American births out of wedlock rose by 67% from 1970 to 1986, African-Americans actually decreased theirs by 15%. Their rates were still four times those of EuropeanAmericans, but those rates were at last going down. Most European-American and African-American women who bore a child out of wedlock eventually married, though more European-Americans did so than African-Americans. Differences between African-Americans and European-Americans in childbearing for women aged 25 or over have almost disappeared, but African-

American women under 20 bear fully half again as many as EuropeanAmericans. Almost twice as many African-American women as EuropeanAmerican women of all ages (38% to 21%) do not have prenatal care by the third month, which helps to make them more than twice as likely (13% to 6%) to have infants under the 5.5-pound minimum for high survival rates (Farley and Allen, XXVI 1987). In general, 80% of United States deaths from diseases that would not have been fatal if caught in time come among the 12% African-

American population, which supports the suggestion that teenage, lowincome, African-American urban women are in fact in their best childbearing years (Geronimus, XXVI 1987). Though more African-Americans than Hispanics have access to medical insurance, more of them also are in urban areas,

where health risks are higher than in rural areas for those not at least at midlevel in the socioeconomic system. African-Americans are likelier than European-Americans to be in a threegeneration household—already 4 times likelier in 1960 to be in such a household headed by a grandparent (almost always a grandmother), though only 1.04 times as apt to be in one headed by someone in the middle generation. Middle-aged African-American couples were 2.5 times as likely as their European-American counterparts to be in a household with another related

adult, both in 1966 (25% and 10%) and at some time during the decade 1966-76 (50% and 20%). That was probably because they were less economically secure (Beck and Beck, XXV 1984), like earlier cottage industrialists and sharecroppers in western and Mediterranean Europe. In one sense, the

220 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 1960s and 1970s continued African-Americans’ earlier experience. Percentages of extended households had varied from 18% or 19% in rural South Carolina and 10% in Boston in 1880 to 31% in a ward in Richmond, Virginia, in 1900 and 16% in 1905 and 21% in 1925 in New York City. Jewish and Italian people in New York City had 12% and 23%, respectively, in 1905 (Gutman, XXVI 1976). Yet in another and more fundamental sense, the 1960s and 1970s were very different. More than 80% of African-American families in the late 19th century had both spouses present, and most of the rest had widowed heads, not divorced, separated, or never-wed heads. That scarcely changed

until about 1960; but as job scarcity for African-American men brought African-American marriage rates down sharply, unwed motherhood increased. Agricultural mechanization in the 1940s and 1950s may have increased profits for mechanizing southern farmers. Nonetheless, because it preceded rather than followed rural departures for the towns and cities, flooding the urban labor markets with too many to find jobs for, it wrought tremen-

dous diseconomies for the nation by the 1980s (Lemann, XXVI 1991). Agricultural mechanization was only one of the many ways in which people in both the United States and Canada altered their relation with their environ-

ment in the 19th and 20th centuries. Clearing forests for agriculture in the 19th century was followed in the 20th by great irrigation projects, most of which also provided hydroelectricity for distant residential or industrial areas. Some of these projects merely supplemented natural rainfall on existing croplands. Others were specifically designed to bring new areas under cultivation, mainly in the dry United States southwest. As more and more people moved into those areas, energy demands multiplied. Throughout most of the United States and Canada, industrialization and accompanying urbanization affected human health in both positive and negative ways. Longevity increased, but so did pollution. Declining births in industrialized nations like the United States and Canada may well be a positive evolutionary response to environmental

degradation (as suggested earlier), if the decline is gradual enough. Fortunately for Canadians, their agricultural mechanization was like that of

England or the north central United States rather than the southern United States. It did not precede rural departures for job-providing cities. Canada’s population grew even more steeply than that of the United States and Latin America. Canada’s people numbered probably about half a million in 1800 (at least 25% Indian or Inuit), but were more than 25 million in the mid-1980s. In 1800, the lands of today’s United States held about 6 million (perhaps 10%

Indian or Inuit), and in the mid-1980s, they held about 230 million. Latin Americans numbered about 17.5 million in 1800 and in the mid-1980s, about 350 million, or half again as many as the United States and 14 times as many

as Canada. Still, the 50-fold explosion in Canada’s population was not attended by a massive post-1950 influx of motivated but unskilled rural people into cities, as in the United States and Latin America. That made maintaining stable marriages and family relationships easier for Canadians.

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 221 The first Europeans to settle in Canada were 17th-century French colonists in the lower St. Lawrence valley. They established a seigneurial system of over-

lords and dues-owing peasants that endured until Canada’s British rulers ended it in 1853-54, almost a century after replacing France’s rule. Those early French settlers married somewhat earlier than many of their contemporaries in France’s villages, at 22.4 for women and 26.9 for men in 1700-30 (Fox and Quitt, III 1980). In North America, those born in 1650-1720 also could expect 35.5 years of life, not 30 or less as in much of France (Livi-Bacci, in Rotberg and Rabb, II 1983). Thus they could average 8.4 children per completed marriage (5.7 per wife) in 1700-49. Clearly, death ended many marriages before the wife passed 45. Infant mortality was high at 24.6% in the

settled region in 1700-49 (Henripin and Peron, in Glass and Revelle, III 1972). In remoter Matawaska, it was only 13.2% in 1791-1838 (Sorg and Craig, XXIII 1983), as low as all of French Canada in 1926-30 at 13.3%. By then, other European-Canadians had a rate of 8.9%. Completed family size in Matawaska reached 11.34 in 1791-1838. Completed family size in fertile marriages in the St. Lawrence valley in the decades before 1700 reached 8.3 even if the wife was 25 to 29 at marriage, and 12.6 if she was 14. About one in ten marriages proved infertile. There were 8.16 births per year in first marriages in 1711-65 in French Canada for every fertile first marriage contracted that year, and 5.13 in second or later marriages for every fertile second or later marriage. The European-ancestry population multiplied several hundred times from the first few 17th-century shiploads to the post-1780 influx of loyalists from the new United States, who evidently preferred going to Canada to remaining among neighbors whose call for independence they had opposed. By 1816-17, French Canada faced an accumulation of overpopulation, soil exhaustion, fragmentation of land among many heirs, and crop failures (Post, II] 1977). Fertility then began to decline in some areas. Other areas sent out migrants, particularly after seigneurial controls ended in the 1850s. Some went only to nearby regions like Saguenay, where they and their offspring continued to marry at a little over 22 for women and a little over 24 for men in

1842-1911 (Bouchard and de Pourbaix, XXIII 1987). Later, some left Saguenay for Ontario, New Brunswick, or Nova Scotia, where they took up some of the lands left by Louisiana Acadians’ ancestors, whom the conquering British sent to Louisiana in the mid—18th century. As the name Nova Scotia

suggests, Scots from their too crowded homeland had settled well before 1800 on many of those lands. By 1900, more were leaving Saguenay than were coming to it (Bouchard and de Pourbaix, XXIII 1977). French-Canadians who joined former loyalists and newcomers from England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland, and also Germany in southern Ontario proba-

bly contributed to its birth rate being higher in 1861 than in neighboring Michigan and Ohio or in eastern Canada (McInnis, in Lee, II[ 1977). Women’s

mean marriage age in 1871 in Ontario was 23.6, younger than Quebec at

222 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 23.8, the all-Canada average of 23.9, New Brunswick at 24.6, or Nova Scotia at 25.0. Canada’s real differences were among ethnicities (36% of French ancestry, 19% English, 19% Irish, 14% Scots, 6% German). Women of English ancestry married at 22.6, to 27.6 for Scots, 23.9 for both Irish and French, and 22.0 for Germans. Yet English and Scots bore the fewest children, Irish and Germans bore the next fewest, and French bore the most (Tupperman, XXIII 1979). Fertile completed marriages in French Canada in 1912-16 still averaged 7.27 births for farm dwellers. Still, 5.46 for rural non—farm dwellers, and especially 3.56 for town and city dwellers, show clear movement toward lower fertility, a century later than in France. Rising marriage ages contributed

to that change, 25.5 for women and 29.9 for men in 1921 in all of Canada (Ramu, XXIII 1976). By 1920, immigrants from all parts of Europe were in Canada. Many used the late-19th-century transcontinental railroads to take up farmlands between Ontario and the Rocky Mountains. Others settled in the growing cities. By

1920, Canada also received its first few immigrants from Britain’s Asian possessions—India, Hong Kong, and some Chinese from Singapore and Malaysia. By 1981-86, 43% of Canada’s immigrants were from Asia. As in the United States, all the newcomers brought their own family system, but in Can-

ada, they maintained higher endogamy. Consequently they modified their family systems less rapidly than their compatriots in the United States. In 1922-84, Canadians in large birth cohorts had more children than those in smaller birth cohorts. Yet in the United States, those in large birth cohorts had fewer children, who then had more offspring (Wright and Maxim, XXIII 1987). From 1921 to at least 1967, Canadian divorce rates responded more

slowly than those in the United States to experiences shared by both nations—war (an increase, as hastily made marriages turned sour), prosperity (a decrease), or depression (an eventual, if not an immediate, increase). Canadians married and bore children later, but spaced births more closely, than United States couples. Consequently a Canadian couple’s last child married or left home when the parents were younger, while the couple lived longer after that departure (since life expectancies were similar). Canadians also divorced less, making average duration of marriage somewhat longer (Rowe and Krishnan, III 1980). Mean marriage ages in Canada declined to 22.6 for women and 25.3 for men in 1965, and briefly hit lows of 20.8 and 23.7 in 1970, which came close to the United States’ low means of 20 and 22 in the 1950s. In 1971, Canadian mean marriage ages rebounded to 22.6 for women and 24.9 for men (Ramu, XXIII 1976). For all completed marriages, not just fertile ones, those married in Canada in 1910 averaged 4.4 children per marriage, to 3.4 in the United States—5.5 in Canada to 3.75 in the United States for wives wed at under 22, 3.7 to 2.75 for wives wed at 22 or later. Those married in Canada in 1947 averaged 3.0 per marriage, to 2.6 in the United States—3.4 compared with 3.0

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 223 for wives wed at under 22, 2.6 to 2.1 for wives wed at 22 or later (Legare, XXIII 1972).

Australia and New Zealand in the southern hemisphere, also colonized heavily by people from England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland, and other European lands, paralleled Canada and the United States. Mean marriage ages for women born in 1891-95 were highest in New Zealand (25.5) and Australia (25.3), to 23.9 for Canada and 23.6 for the United States. Mean marriage ages for men born in 1886-90 (their most probable husbands) followed the same order: New Zealand 29.5, Australia 28.6, Canada 28.1, and the United States 27.5. Canadian women born 50 years later married latest at 22.5, then New Zealand at 22.2, Australia at 21.9, and the United States at 21.6. Australian men married latest at 25.6, New Zealand at 25.5, Canada at 24.8, and the United States at 23.7 (Festy, III 1973). By the 1980s, all but Canada had fewer

than 5% of women aged 45 to 49 still unmarried. Canada in 1980 showed 5.7%, to 4.7% in the United States in 1980 and New Zealand in 1981, and 4.1% in Australia in 1981 (Preston, in Davis and others, III 1987). Yet as recently as 1947, 12.6% of women aged 45 to 49 in Australia had never wed; and in 1951, 11.8% of women aged 45 to 49 in New Zealand and 11.7% of those in Canada had never wed, though that figure was already under 9% in the United States in 1900. Even though more women in the four countries married as the 20th century

progressed, the total fertility rate of Australia, Canada, and New Zealand joined that of the United States in going below first 3.0 and then 2.0. Australia and the United States went below 3.0 first, in 1965 (Australia 2.98, United

States 2.88). Canada followed in 1966 with 2.75; New Zealand, not until 1973 with 2.77. Canada became first to go below 2.0, with 1.98 in 1972. The United States followed with 1.88 in 1973, Australia with 1.98 in 1978, and New Zealand with 1.95 in 1982. By 1982, Canada was at 1.69, the United States at 1.83, and Australia at 1.94. Total fertility rates reached 1.631 for Canada and 1.805 for the United States in 1986, 1.921 for New Zealand in 1985, and 1.931 for Australia in 1983 (Preston, in Davis and others, III 1987). Like similarly low estimates for much of Europe, these estimates probably mask decisions to have children later in life. They show that young women are having fewer children than before, but they assume that these women will have as few children in later years as women who already passed those ages, which is not necessarily true. Rapid population expansion for all four clearly is over,

as in Europe, although Latin Americans are still increasing. The pace of growth in Latin America has slowed enough in the past decade to make it still instructive to look at McEvedy and Jones’ estimate (III 1978) of changes in population composition in the Americas since Europeans arrived, before going on to compare Australia, New Zealand, and the Pacific islands with the Americas. In 1492, the population of the Americas was entirely indigenous. Even with the terrible 16th-century losses, it was still about 95% indige-

224 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT nous in 1600. Europeans formed perhaps 3% to 4%, mestizos 1% or 2%, and Africans (and a mere handful of mulattos) less than 1%. By 1700, indigenous peoples were under 75%, with Europeans 15% to 16%, mestizos (including French-Indian metis in Canada and other offspring of Europeans and North American Indians) 3% to 4%, Africans more than 5%, and mulattos about 1%. As Europeans and Africans continued arriving in Brazil and North America plus the Caribbean colonies of Britain, France, and the Netherlands (and at a slower rate in Spanish America), those proportions changed by 1800 to perhaps 3 in 8 indigenous peoples, at least 1 in 3 European-descended, perhaps 1 in 12 mestizos, more than 1 in 6 Africans, and under 1 in 30 mulattos. Then the influx of Europeans swelled, but that of Africans receded. A few Asians also were brought to work as contract laborers, either on United States and Canadian railroads (mostly Chinese) or on Caribbean sugar islands (mostly from India). Therefore, even though indigenous peoples continued increasing in actual numbers in Latin America after the 17th-century low point, they became only about 1 in 12 of the Americas’ total population by 1900. About 5 in 8 of that total were European-descended, about 1 in 10 mestizo, more than 1 in 8 African, about 1 in 25 mulatto, and far less than 1% Asian. By the 1970s, those proportions had changed to about 1 in 16 indigenous peoples (roughly

half the 60 to 70 million they probably numbered in 1492), about 3 in 5 European-descended, about 1 in 7 mestizo, still more than 1 in 8 Africandescended, and about 1 in 25 mulatto. Asians still numbered perhaps only 1 in

40, including Japanese, who settled in rural Brazil early in the 20th century with Brazilian governmental support. Other Japanese, like the forebears of the man elected president of Peru in 1990, ventured into Latin America as well as Hawaii and coastal western Canada and the United States; but few Chi-

nese or Koreans ventured south of the Rio Grande until after 1945. Australia, New Zealand, and the Pacific islands, only entered by European settlers after 1788, have had less than half as much experience with European presence as the Americas. African slaves were not brought to them to work. Still, the late 19th century saw contract laborers from India brought to Fiji and contract laborers from China and Japan to Hawaii, to work on sugar plantations established by British and United States nationals. The results parallel in some ways, and in some ways differ from, the outcomes of African slavery in the Americas. Altogether, both the parallels and the nature of the differences between people’s experience in these Pacific realms and in the Americas make

it reasonable to consider them together. About 250,000 Maori agriculturalists lived in New Zealand (mainly on the more hospitable northern island) when Captain James Cook first landed in 1769, yet there were only 100,000 when the first permanent British settlers arrived in 1840. Maori had the same experience with smallpox, measles, and venereal diseases as 16th-century indigenous American peoples, once whalers and other Europeans began landing to obtain water and food. The missionaries who arrived in 1814 lacked enough means to combat the new ills. The ini-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 225 tial British settlers purchased land from Maori rulers, who understood the sale’s permanence but did not realize how many other settlers might follow. Bloody warfare in the 1840s and 1860s contributed to another halving of Maori numbers. Meanwhile the first 1,000 European settlers grew to 25,000 by 1850 and 300,000 by 1875. Only in the 1880s did settlers’ natural increase

outpace continuing immigration. By 1900, New Zealand held more than 800,000 (with the gradually recovering Maori), more than 2 million by 1950 (despite a slowing in immigration), and more than 3 million by 1950, of whom 3% to 4% called themselves Maori (Jones, XXI 1971). Maori still maintain ambilineal descent patterns and traditional forms of marriage, divorce, and remarriage, though they follow the Christianity their

19th-century ancestors accepted. They also remain largely agricultural (though many live and work in the cities), with somewhat higher fertility and

mortality than the more urbanized European-descended population (Pool, XXI 1982). Rurality, mortality, and a sense of having been elbowed to the side in their own country probably all contribute to that higher fertility, along with strong social traditions that encourage expanding a family circle to apparent current limits for acceptable living. Postneonatal infant mortality remains especially high among Maori (Sceats, XXI 1984). Moreover, male mortality for Maori aged 15 to 64 remains 50% higher than that of male European settlers

and their male descendants (Pearce and others, XXI 1984), much as among United States and Canadian Indians, Inuit, and Aleut. In the 1960s, Maori birth expectancy was only 54.05 for men and 55.88 for women, to 68.29 for men and 72.43 for women of European descent (Thomlinson, III 1965). Those differences lessened in the following decades, as they did for Indians, Inuit, and Aleut in the United States and Canada, but they remained real. Almost all of New Zealand’s European settlers came from England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, though a brief 1860s gold rush drew a few from continental Europe. Each group brought its own patterns of marriage and decreasing fertility. Mean marriage ages in the 1850s (23.5 for women, 27.7 for men) and the 1870s (23.9 for women, 29.0 for men) were already fairly high for a mainly immigrant population. The mode, the most common age at marriage, suggests better than the mean the pace of a turn to later marriage. Modes were 19 for women and 24 for men in the 1850s, up to 21 for women and 25 for men in the 1870s. Those born in the late 19th century would marry in the 1910s at means of 25.5 for women and 29.5 for men. Only in the 1960s did mean marriage ages go below the means of a century before (Pickens, XXI 1980). Australian Aborigines’ experience was both like and unlike Maori experience. Both lost more than 75% of their numbers, but Aborigines declined more slowly, 1788 to the 1920s rather than 1769 to the 1870s. Their losses were somewhat lower than those of indigenous Americans, though the extinction of Tasmanians (by slaughter even more than disease) somewhat paralleled the extinction of Caribbean islanders (by disease more than slaughter).

226 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Aborigine interactions with European settlers differed from those of Maori, since Aborigines were foragers rather than cultivators. Like early-17th-century indigenous North Americans, Aborigines did not at first see the newcomers’ request for land as meaning their own permanent loss of its use (Smith, XXI 1980). Because the first newcomers came as armed soldiers guarding transported prisoners (to be released to support themselves when their terms ended), Aborigines also did not try to resist additional arrivals, as New England Indians did in King Philip’s War. Aborigines simply faded into the interior, as Europeans settled the southeast and moved on to other rain-fed coastal areas. Aborigines were then pressed ever farther north and inland into ever more inhospitable regions, lacking the horses and guns that gave Navaho and others some capacity to resist in North America. They

became compressed into far less territory than before, like 19th-century northern California Indians. As with northern California Indians, that compression intensified the impact of diseases already caught in early contacts with Europeans, and made customary forager life impossible for as many as had once practiced it. Disease and loss of lands brought on feelings of crisis, reflected in the killing of female infants observed by 19th-century Europeans.

Such killings were a desperate measure against overstraining limited resources, like similar killings of Inuit female infants in times of unusual food shortage. In addition to disease and loss of land, many Aborigines who remained too close to settlers for the settlers’ taste were hunted down and killed. Like many North American Indians, Aborigines regarded stray herd animals as wild, free to be taken as food, which led to many clashes with European herders. In Queensland alone, more than 10,000 Aborigines were simply slaughtered from 1850 to 1900. Under such combined and deadly impacts, female Aborigine numbers fell even faster than male numbers. There were about six males per five females of all ages from the 1860s to the 1920s, when total Aborigine numbers were lowest. That finally evened out to about 103 males per 100 females by the 1970s, when Aborigines were back to just under

half their probable initial numbers—150,000 in 1971, to probably about 310,000 (plus 4,500 on Tasmania) in 1788. Aborigine death rates were half again as high as birth rates in the late 19th century, but declined as birth rates recovered after 1900. The two rates became about equal in the 1920s. Fertility took 40 years to join mortality in declining, after peaking in the late 1950s. As late as 1971, Aborigine infant mortality was 12%, about like that for settlers in Western Australia in the 1860s (Hugo, XXI 1986). By 1980, it was down to 2.86%, still much higher than the 1.02% of the rest of the population. Because 44% of Aborigines were age 15 or under in 1981 (25% for the rest of the population), they were apt to continue increasing their 1% share in the total population. Actual counts between 1849 and 1922 show fertile Aborigine women bearing under four in the

earlier years, not over five in the later years, and 15% to 22% sterile (Cowlishaw, XXI 1981). Aborigine women born in Victoria state in 1852-91

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT , 227 averaged 4.45 to 6.07 per mother over the years, but women born before 1866 saw fewer than half their infants reach 15, and women born in 18671911 saw about two-thirds reach 15. Aborigine numbers in Victoria in 1901 were only 6% of the probable 1788 level, partly because so many fled inland from slaughter and disease in the 19th century (Barwick, in Krupinski and Stoller, XXI 1978). Aborigine losses were first and worst in Tasmania. Its initial 4,500 sank to

18 (0.4%) by 1861, when the mainland’s initial 310,000 were down to 180,400. Victoria (6%) and New South Wales (15%) saw the next low points in 1901, when totals were only 94,600. Queensland (19%) and South Australia (31%) reached their lows in 1921, when totals were lowest at 75,600. Western Australia (28%) and the Northern Territories (31%) reached their respective lows in 1933, when totals were still only 75,800. Many 20th-century Aborigines in southern, western, and northern Australia were descended from people who left eastern Australia in the 19th century and used whatever links they could to join nearby bands. Their numbers forced others to do the same, in a chain reaction that eventually squeezed those farthest away at least as much as the initial movers felt squeezed when the chain of moves began. Faced with such huge involuntary changes, Aborigines maintained the widest possible family networks compatible with monogamy. (Aborigines accepted monogamy as a minimal requirement for dealing with the majority community—somewhat like Utah Mormons, though under very different circumstances.) Dealing with households that might contain 12 persons this week, 6 the next, 10 or 8 the week after that, and only 3 or 4 usu-

ally but not always sleeping there (though all 20 or so were in the same extended family), greatly frustrated government social service workers determining eligibility for welfare aid, which continued to be needed through the 1980s. Excess male mortality (mainly from accidents and alcohol-related mortality causes) replaced excess female mortality among Aborigines in the 1970s (Hugo, XXI 1986), as birth expectancy went from 52 for each sex in 1971 (68 for men and 71 for women in the rest of the population) to 49 for men and 56

for women in 1981 (71 for men and 78 for women in the rest of the population). After 1793, some European settlers in Australia were free voluntary newcomers; after 1840, convicts were no longer transported. Colonists had both high mortality and high fertility. Western Australia was colonized at the end of the 1820s. Marriage there came early for women in 1842-49 (mean 20.5, median 19.6), but less early for men (mean 25.7, median 26.7). Completed marriages of 1842-49 averaged 7.6 born for all marriages and 8.3 for fertile marriages (6% of couples had no children). Infant mortality was still 12.1% to 12.6% in the 1860s (Anderson, in Grimshaw and others, XXI 1985), much lower than England’s one in five in 1899, or even urban Melbourne’s 16.4% in 1881 and 16.0% in 1898 (McDonald and Quigg, in Grimshaw and others, XXI 1985). Fertility varied with residence. Women aged 40 to 44 in Victoria in

228 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 1881 had borne 6.2 in cities, 7.2 in rural areas, and 6.9 for the whole state. As fertility declined, that fell to 4.4 in cities, 5.4 in rural areas, and 4.9 for the whole state in 1911. One Victoria district saw average births go from 6.8 for women born in 1820-29 to 7.8 for those born in 1830-39, 6.0 for those born

in 1840-49, 4.9 for those born in 1850-59, and 3.5 for those born in 1860—69 (Grimshaw and others, in Grimshaw and others, XXI 1985). Much the same decline took place in Boonah in frontier Queensland, where average completed fertility for all who married in 1870-89 was 7.76 births (Cole, in Grimshaw and others, XXI 1985)—-8.1 for German rural settlers, 8.1 for English Methodist rural settlers, and only 5.4 for English Anglican settlers in the district town. For all of rural Australia, completed fertility for the same marriage cohort was only 5.7 (5.3 for all of Australia). In the next generation, completed fertility in Boonah declined to 5.49. By the 1960s, at 2.73, it was near the all-Australia average. Later in the 19th century, women began marrying later. Median marriage ages in Victoria state were 23.9 for women and 27.0 for men, or higher than

rural Castlemaine in 1891 at 22.0 for women and 23.8 for men (Fahey, in Grimshaw and others, XXI 1985). Also, more women remained unwed. Of those born in 1856-60, 11% did not marry. Only for those born in 1906-10 did that percentage go back below 10%, to 9.5%. New Zealand showed almost

the same timing. There, the 1856-60 birth cohort was the first with 10% never marrying, and the 1906-10 cohort was the last with so many never marrying (Festy, II] 1973). By 1981, only 4.1% of Australia’s women had never married at ages 45 to 49. For those born in Italy or Yugoslavia, that figure was a mere 1.4% (Hugo, XXI 1986). Many southern and eastern Europeans migrated to Australia after World War II, but Australia only allowed Asians to settle and become citizens in the 1970s. Settlers born outside Australia usually had fewer children than settlers’ descendants born in Australia (Jones, XXI 1971). That reversed United States experience, even though (as in the United

States) the foreign-born were more apt to marry than European-ancestry native-born. As in Canada and the United States, divorce increased in Australia during the 20th century, not only from economic problems, but also from problems in reconciling a highly individualistic frontier mentality with the needs of a growingly interdependent and urbanized society. (Though frontier life encouraged some cooperation-mindedness, it was for short-lived local projects, not

for broad, lasting societal action.) Resulting frustrations were more often taken out within families than at work. A rising number of deserted wives (1.3 per 1,000 population in 1961, 4.7 by 1976) led to an easing of previous limits

on formal divorce. Divorce levels soon approximated those of England and Wales (Krupinski and Yule, in Krupinski and Stoller, XXI 1978). Largely aaricultural New Zealand’s divorce levels for the European-descended remained

well below Australia’s, much as those of largely agricultural Norway (also

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 229 small in numbers, with 4 million to New Zealand’s 3 million) remained well below the European average even in the 1980s. Birth expectancy for both New Zealanders and Australians improved in the 20th century. The 1881~—90 levels of 47.2 for men and 50.8 for women in Aus-

tralia rose to 59.2 for men and 63.3 for women in 1920-22. Australians only surpassed New Zealanders in longevity in the 1980s. By 1984, Australian levels were 72.59 for men and 79.09 for women, to New Zealand levels of 71.19 for men and 77.67 for women. The difference may come partly from inclusion of indigenous peoples in these figures. Aborigines’ lower life expectancies applied to only about 1% of Australia’s people, but lower Maori life expectancies

applied to about 5% in New Zealand. Both settlers and indigenous peoples in Australia and New Zealand made adjustments to each other’s presence. In the process, European settlers’ descendants in Australia and New Zealand came closer to indigenous inhabitants’ relative permissiveness toward divorce and remarriage than indigenous inhabitants came to the idea.of indissoluble marriage brought by European settlers. Somewhat similarly, descendants of European settlers in Canada and

the United States moved toward the greater permissiveness in divorce and remarriage of both North America’s indigenous peoples and a number of the African societies from which slaves were brought. The indissoluble-marriage ideal was maintained only in divorce-resisting Latin American nations; and many of their people leavened it in practice with a limited acceptance of dissoluble consensual unions. Like their Maori cousins, Pacific island peoples were relatively accepting toward making, unmaking, and remaking marriages. Many young people them-

selves took part in selecting their partners, rather than awaiting parental arrangement. As sailors visited Pacific islands in the early 19th century, they often unfortunately brought smallpox, measles, venereal diseases, and other contagions, some of which (especially tuberculosis, venereal disease, and

smallpox) led to future sterility. Pacific islanders, therefore, experienced losses comparable in type, though not completeness, to Caribbean islanders’ losses several centuries earlier. What differentiated them from Caribbean islanders was that no conqueror tried to enslave them and then killed them for resisting. Enough survived into the 20th century for medical advances to help them fight the effects of diseases introduced in the 19th century. British sugar plantation owners in Fiji brought contract workers from India in 1879-1917. French plantation owners brought a smaller number of contract workers from their African domains to French-claimed islands. After World War I, Japanese entrepreneurs established similar plantations in islands

previously held by Germany, and brought Japanese laborers to relieve perceived population pressure in Japan. United States entrepreneurs who obtained permission to raise sugar and other crops from Hawaii’s mid-19thcentury rulers brought contract workers from China, Japan, and, eventually, Korea, to work on lands left vacant by early-19th-century disease losses.

230 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Fortunately for Pacific islanders, the use of others as laborers spared them from being hunted down. Pacific island populations (including New Guinea) probably reached a low of about 2 million around 1850. Islanders were already used to limiting their own numbers, on some islands even using female infanticide regularly enough to lead to allowing adult women to take supplemental consorts in what amounted to a form of polyandry (Williamson, in Piddington, XXI 1939). Thus 2 million may have been more like a 50% decrease than the probable 80% Maori decrease or the probable 76% Australian Aborigine decrease. The 6 million or so of the 1980s may, therefore, actually outnumber previous populations. Nukuoro in the eastern Carolines had a stable population, with almost identical birth and death rates in 1878-1912, like Australian Aborigines in the 1920s. Nukuoro birth rates more than doubled from 1912 to 1930, however, and the death rate decreased to about 75% of its

former level by 1960. By the 1960s, population growth was 2% a year (Feeney, XXI 1974). Growth slowed as contraceptives were introduced, much

as among Canadian or Alaskan or Greenland Inuit. Kosrae in the eastern Carolines was still declining in population in the 1960s (Ritter, XX 1980), though Malakula began to recover from decline after 1945 (Rallu, XXI 1981). Some 20th-century population decreases still came from disease, but others came from young men’s migration to work. In American Samoa in 1950-80, there were too few young men to provide partners for young women (Crews, XXI 1986). Yet Samoans usually refused polygyny, for 19th-century Christian missionaries effectively eliminated polygyny from most island cultures. The Cook Islands saw even more drastic levels of departure in 1966-76 (Hayes, XXI 1982). In some areas, like Vanuatu in 1979, female mortality outran male mortality, lessening long-term capacity to procreate (Booth, XXI 1985). In other islands, like Nauru, given unexpected income after World War II by phosphate mining, high male mortality deprived women of potential partners

(Schooneveldt and others, XXI 1988). Alcohol-related death causes and motor vehicle accidents joined degenerative diseases like heart disease in cut-

ting birth expectancy for those born in 1976-81 to 49 for men, compared with 62 for women (Taylor and Thomas, XXI 1985). Some Pacific regions such as eastern Samoa developed occupations for women other than rearing children and tending crops. Fertility has declined more to the east of New Zealand (including Hawaii) than to its west (Kane and Lucas, XXI 1986). Both the most educated and the least educated eastern Samoan women display higher fertility than averagely educated women. This unusual situation exists because large extended family structures enable highly educated women to rely on kin to care for their children while they earn high

incomes (Harbison and others, XXI 1981). Western Samoa shows a more usual straight-line association of lower fertility with higher education. Indigenous Hawaiians are no longer even the largest single group in Hawaii. They were already becoming outnumbered when Hawaii’s rulers resignedly accepted an entrepreneur-run republic, which in 1898 obtained annexation to

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT : 231 the United States. Neither Japanese, Chinese, Filipinos, nor EuropeanAmericans are a majority either. Indigenous Hawaiians display a straight-line association between higher education and lower fertility for women, and have higher birth rates than other groups (Howard, XXV 1974). Their customary

upbringing praises men for providing for as many as possible, and praises women for caring well for infants and young children. Being one of a number of groups, none of which forms a majority, is the sit-

uation of all linguistic-cultural groups in the total world population. That is surely preferable to the situation in which Fijians found themselves, as laborers from India brought wives and stayed on. Indian wives came to average 36% higher fertility than Fijian women, who married later than Indian women’s early-teens average, and also practiced long lactation and accompanying abstinence in a still-polygynous marriage system (Roberts and Mohan, in Ward and Weiss, II 1976). Moreover, infant mortality for Fijians in the 1930s was about half again as high as for Indians, and child mortality for Fijians was about twice as high as for Indians. Much like the Americas’ indigenous peoples, Fijians consequently became outnumbered even while their new rulers at first blamed high mortality on local customs rather than on new diseases. That led to campaigns like the one to move cooking fires out of residences, even though smoke drove out malaria-bearing mosquitoes (Thomas, XXI 1990). When the British came to plan in the 1950s for an independent Fiji, they recognized that they themselves had helped to make Fijians a numerical minority. They therefore recognized as citizens only Indians born or extremely long resident in Fiji. Thus Fijians could dominate politically, but the more economically diversified Indian community remained dominant educationally and professionally. By 1985, Indians were beginning to reduce fertility through later mar-

riage for women and use of contraceptives, probably to maintain economic leadership by limiting numbers of children to educate for business and professional success; but Fijians were not yet reducing their fertility (Clegg, XXI 1988). If Fijians’ fertility remained high, Fiji eventually might resemble Jamaica. One group (the Fijians, or the descendants of the Africans brought to Jamaica) might become numerically dominant, holding most government

positions and increasingly active in the professions, but economically nondominant. The other (the Indians, or the few remaining British) might remain economically dominant, while having to accept the more numerous group’s political control and growing presence in professions. Both groups also might continue to follow familiar family patterns, changing only as much as seemed necessary for current beliefs about appropriate fertility. Pacific islanders’ varying experience sometimes mirrored and sometimes reversed indigenous peoples’ experiences in other regions of European activity and settlement in the Americas and the Pacific realm. Nauru collapsed into a few years the changeover from epidemic-driven mortality rates (and population decline caused by new diseases) to mortality rates driven by the degenerative diseases and accidents of the industrial era. Fiji and Hawaii pointed up

232 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT how massive immigration could affect indigenous peoples by turning them into numerical minorities. Samoa illustrated possible effects on both men and women of job-seeking migration and new educational and work opportunities. Some of these experiences also paralleled those of peoples closer to Europe,

in Africa south of the Sahara and in North Africa and Southwest Asia, who will be considered in the next chapter.

oC Chapter 7 Africa South of the Sahara,

North Africa, and Southwest Asia Africans south as well as north of the Sahara were never as isolated from their neighbors in Europe and Asia as indigenous Americans had been before the 16th century. Early Eqyptian rulers established trade links with other Africans that gradually expanded, reaching new levels in Roman times. Trade across both the Sahara and the Mediterranean continued after the western Roman

empire collapsed, but at a slower pace for several centuries. Then the new Muslim faith came to the courts and marketplaces of existing centers of Saharan trade in west Africa’s interior and in new port cities founded on Africa’s east coast by Arab merchant settlers. Because Muslim merchants brought many of the diseases that later devastated the Americas, some local African populations built up immunities to them in the next few centuries. No one can tell how many epidemics it took to produce those immunities. Initial direct contact usually meant at least one devastating initial epidemic, like that among the Khoikhoi in southern Africa in 1713, when smallpox reached them from the Dutch settlements at the Cape of Good Hope (Ross, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1977). In just a few weeks, the great worldwide influenza epidemic of 1918 killed a full 1% of all Africans south of the Sahara and up to 3% locally in west Africa (Patterson, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1981). Still, successive deadly waves of the same diseases at generational intervals, like those that devastated Mexico and Guatemala after 1500, were not as visible or deadly among Afri-

cans during the centuries of the Atlantic slave trade. Population estimates for A.D. 1500 for Africa and Southwest Asia (to which North Africa was tied by trade and, eventually, Islam) range greatly. Durand (III 1977) gives 6 to 12 million for North Africa, 20 to 30 million for Southwest Asia, and 30 to 60 million for Africa south of the Sahara. McEvedy and

Jones (III 1978) cautiously assign 8 million to North Africa, 17.5 million to

234 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Southwest Asia, and 38 million to Africa south of the Sahara. Those estimates provide usable vantage points from which to look at Durand’s estimates of 10 to 15, 25 to 35, and 50 to 80 million for the three areas in 1750; 53 to 55, 40

to 45, and 90 to 120 million in 1900; and 80 to 82, 115 to 125, and 315 to 335 million in 1975. McEvedy and Jones estimate 11, 21, and 44 million for the three areas in 1600; 9.25, 20.4, and 51.75 million in 1700; 9.75, 23, and

60.25 million in 1800; 22.3, 34.5, and 87.7 million in 1900; and 78.5, 112.25, and 306.5 million in 1975. On the other hand, L. M. Diop (in Edinburgh, XXIX 1981) estimates 280 million for all of Africa in 1500, 250 million in 1650, 220 million in 1750, 190 million in 1850, 104 to 120 million in 1930, and 120 to 140 million in 1948-49. He links this suggested depopulation and recovery series with estimates of losses to westward and eastward slave trades that many would regard as more than maximal, even if losses between place of seizure or initial purchase and final place of sale are included. His slave-trade loss estimates are 6 million up to 1550 (as the Portuguese took slaves first to southern Europe and then to the Americas), 24 million in 1550—-

1650, another 24 million in 1650-1750, 30 million in 1750-1850, and 10 million in the final century of 1850-1950, during most of which Arab siavetraders were once again the only exporters, as they had been before Portuguese arrived in 1433. (Saudi Arabia only abolished slavery in the 1950s.) Thus Diop estimates that 94 million were taken from their homes in the 15th to 20th centuries, more than six times as many as other scholars estimate were taken out of Africa (about 10 million to the Americas and probably not more than 5 million to North Africa, Southwest Asia, and points beyond in India and

Southeast Asia to which Arabs transported only a few Africans). Only if Diop’s highest estimate of 280 million for Africa in 1500 is placed alongside McEvedy and Jones’ estimate of 55 million for 1600 does the combination suggest losses like those in Australia, New Zealand, or the Americas. The slave trade probably resulted in Africa south of the Sahara having fewer

people in 1850 than in the 17th century. Certainly population fell from the 1890s to the 1920s, when Europeans consolidated colonial rule over most of the area (Caldwell, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1977). The drop came as much from the effects of the new rulers’ forced labor policies as from epidemics. All of Af-

rica probably held about 50 million in 1500, 100 million in 1650 (before the most massive losses to the slave trade), a slightly higher peak followed by gradual return to about 100 million by 1850, another slightly higher peak followed by another return to about 100 million by 1920, and then the rapid climb of recent decades to more than 400 million by 1985. North Africa never held more than 20% of those all-Africa totals. Neighboring Southwest Asia probably never held more than 40% as many people as Africa, and only about 33% to 34% by 1985. Trade was the first bond between the regions north and east of the Sahara and those south of it. Slaves were significant in that trade long before classical Greek and Roman times. The initial downturn in population after the great ep-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 235 idemics of the 2nd and 3rd centuries A.D., followed by the further downturn after the 6th-century epidemics, left parts of Southwest Asia so unpopulated that its new Muslim rulers brought shipload after shipload of slaves from the east African coast to lower Iraq (ancient Mesopotamia). Some eventually rebelled, briefly establishing a local state at the mouth of the river in A.D. 86983. The rebellion did not make the Arabs stop using African slaves, but it did make them prefer women and children to adult men. As a result, over the last ten centuries of Arab slave trade with Africa, about two women were taken for every man. That was the reverse of the two men for every woman taken by

Europeans and their descendants in the Americas for the Atlantic trade (Robertson and Klein, in Robertson and Klein, XXIX 1983). Arabs took far

fewer slaves than the Atlantic trade, during 1,250 years (A.D. 700-1950) rather than 455 (A.D. 1433-1888). That considerably lessened the Arab slave trade’s yearly impact on African societies, but the disproportionate loss of women surely affected African fertility. In 1840, the ruler of Oman in southeast Arabia established an outpost in Zanzibar off east Africa, which broke away in 1862 to profit for itself from the island’s longstanding slave trade with east Africa. Some slaves were kept on the island and along the coast opposite it to grow export crops; others were sold to Arab, Turkish, and Iranian buyers. The result devastated mainland peoples opposite Zanzibar as much as Portuguese slaving in Angola at the Atlantic slave trade’s 18th-century peak. Still, those taken to North Africa and Southwest Asia in a year or a decade were surely never even half as numerous as those taken in a year or a decade for the 18th-century Atlantic slave trade. Even the coldest calculations cannot mask the reality with which both western and eastern Africans lived by the time Portuguese slave-raiding traders reached the west African coast after 1433. Outsiders could, would, and did remove them regularly into slavery abroad. This often was done within local forms of slavery, through which local slaveholders sold them to outside buyers; but it also was done by capture, which could take slaveholders as well as those already enslaved. Arab, Portuguese, or other outsiders might do their own capturing. A ruler might use war to take slaves from a neighboring people, some of whom were kept to work for the victor, whereas others were exchanged with foreign merchants for wanted items. Guns were sought in many

areas, once Arabs or Europeans introduced them. Guns could step up the cycle of slave-taking and profit-taking to a new level, as well as defend from in-

ternal rebellion or external threat. The rulers of Benin on the lower Niger River became successful in practicing that cycle. Dutch visitors in 1604 marveled at the wealth of Benin’s capital, even noting that many men had at least ten wives. They did not realize that wives’ crop-growing and cloth-making

helped to produce husbands’ wealth, as other Europeans saw in the Gold Coast in 1795 (van de Walle, XXIX 1987). Benin remained able to defend itself from Europeans until after the light Maxim machine gun was invented in 1884. If Europeans had not agreed in 1884 to stop arms sales to rulers in Af.-

236 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT rica south of the Sahara, Benin might even have managed to survive as a sovereign state into the 20th century, like Ethiopia. Ethiopia’s Christian rulers, who did not abolish slavery until 1924, were only partly affected by the 1884 ban. Africans in agricultural communities were under slave-trading’s constant shadow, which deepened as the age of world cities replaced that of regional

cities. Foragers in the forests usually could elude slave-raiders. Because pastoralists had horses or camels in the dry interior west African grasslands (or did not need them for flight where sleeping sickness and other diseases kept raiders from using them), they, too, usually could flee in time. Cropraising villagers, tied to their fields during the growing season, were more eas-

ily seized by those seeking workers for themselves or for sale to others. Villagers also were rather easily subdued by locally powerful people or groups (usually pastoralists), who would promise protection from outside raiders in return for an almost slavelike obedience that usually included control of marriage, the right to children’s labor, and the right to remove disobedient or troublesome people. These were apt to be sold, for enslavement to an outsider was a longstanding common punishment for crime in Africa south of the Sahara. The herding Fulbe (Fulani) and their associated Rimaibe cultivators in Mali, or the herding Tamasheg (Tuareg) and their associated Iklan in Mali, or the herding Tutsi and the agricultural Hutu of the Rwanda-Burundi region, illustrate these relationships. Ruling pastoralists usually used polygyny to keep up numbers so that they

could keep control. Polygyny also aided those cultivators who could amass enough bridewealth to obtain more than one wife in a bridewealth-using system. With polygyny, they could have large enough households to meet overlords’ labor demands, much like early modern Italian sharecroppers keeping married sons with parents to maximize work crews. Because wives ordinarily did productive work, polygyny enabled men who practiced it to improve both their children’s and their own prospects. The Tamasheq were an exception, marking their status by having slaves do all the work. This helps to explain their monogamy, even in groups in which a divorced wife returned to her father’s kin in accord with Islamic law, rather than to her mother’s kin in accord with pre-Islamic tradition. Polygyny south of the Sahara was thus unlike polygyny to its north and east in the center of the wider Islamic community, which by A.D. 1500 stretched from the grasslands south of the Sahara (called Sahel by the Arabs) to the islands of Indonesia. In North Africa and Southwest Asia, women were kept inside the home as much as possible. Rural women worked in the fields, and poor townswomen served other women through a variety of occupations, but their economic contributions were little acknowledged. The potential expense of carrying out both the Islamic requirement of bridewealth and the Islamic rule that all wives (of the maximum four allowed) must be treated equally meant that few men took more than one wife, especially by comparison with

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 237 west Africa, even though dowry continued to be given with a woman’s first marriage. Because dowry was to be returned at the marriage’s end so that it could go with the woman into any future marriage, and because divorce was accepted and used, a man could not count on a wife’s dowry as he could ina society that did not accept and use divorce and that treated dowry as part of a conjugal fund. In 1946, 8.38% of Negev Bedouin husbands had two or more wives—7.65% with two, only 0.73% with more—a high percentage for Southwest Asia and North Africa (Muhsam, XIII 1966). In 1955, only 2% of poorer men in Casablanca in Morocco had two or more wives, compared with 21% of the far fewer men with better income (Mernissi, in Allman, XIII 1978). Negev Bedouin may have been either more representative of earlier practice

than Casablancans, or representative of pastoralist rather than village and town practices. Such figures contrast sharply with the African grasslands immediately south of the Sahara in the 1970s. Among Mossi in Burkina Faso (formerly Upper Volta) in the 1930s to 1970s, men of 55 or over were most apt to be polygynists (Capron and Kohler, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978). Of those older men, 56% were polygynists if still in the traditional religion, with 195 wives per 100 husbands, and 48% were polygynists if they were Muslim, with 173 wives per 100 husbands. Elsewhere south of the Sahara, polygyny was less prevalent; yet most of Africa south of the Sahara clearly contrasts with most of North Africa and Southwest Asia. South of the Sahara, polygyny seems an economic benefit to many. In North Africa and Southwest Asia, it seems more like a luxury. North Africans and Southwest Asians have long shared a strong concept of family honor with peoples on the Mediterranean’s north shore. This has been closely linked with a wish to be sure that inherited property went to a man’s own offspring, whether in a patrilineal Muslim or a bilateral Christian system. Polygyny could ensure early marriage for every daughter. Divorce, if it came, ended the husband’s responsibility for the wife (who would return to her father and brothers), but he remained responsible for any children. Those who were old enough stayed with him, and any still lactating were his to raise after weaning. Like polygyny, divorce also made it easier to maintain the early mar-

riage required for all women by family honor (Fargues, XIII 1987). Polygyny among Muslims in Southwest Asia and North Africa was made possible by a fairly large spousal age gap, which also made it easier for husbands to control wives, and by separation between men’s and women’s quarters in all but the poorest households (least apt to be polygynous anyway). Separation of men from women minimized close bonding between any pair of spouses, making divorce both easier to initiate and easier to absorb. It also lessened friction over a polygynous husband’s attentions, insofar as friction

came from a wife not knowing what another wife was doing. Polygyny’s demographic effects—given the accompanying realities of divorce and of early widowing for later wives (even though remarriage often

238 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT took place)—helped to slow population growth as long as high early mortality prevailed, both in Southwest Asia and North Africa and in Africa south of the Sahara. In Africa south of the Sahara, too, men and women customarily remained spatially separate. Each wife might have her own small house, or her own rooms in a large house in which her husband lived among his people (especially in patrilineal systems). In matrilineal systems, she might remain with her people while he visited for longer or shorter periods (during which he was probably with the other men more than with her, their daughters, or any of their sons who were too young to be with the men most of the time). Because all unmarried daughters’ children were seen as members of their line-

age, the group that disposed of any property at a member’s death, little thought was given to keeping daughters virgin before marriage (Lesthaeghe, in Coleman and Schofield, III] 1986). Children of slaves belonged to their mother’s master, and might, if fortunate, receive sizable gifts from him over the years. Still, slaves who cultivated a master’s fields, rather than cultivating assigned fields some of whose produce they could keep, seldom replaced themselves (Meillassoux, in Robertson and Klein, XXIX 1983). In nonmonetized economies, enslavement—like serfdom in western Europe after A.D. 600 or so—was a logical way for those who offered protection from outsiders to organize the production and acquisition of goods they themselves wanted. Whether overlords protected cultivators against Vikings, Muslims, and horseriders from central Asia in Europe, or against slave-seekers in Africa south of the Sahara, they wanted steady supplies of goods to use, to exchange with outsiders for other goods, or to store for distribution in time of need. The food supplies stored by an overlord helped to make serfdom in western Europe, and most pre-19th-century enslavement in Africa south of the Sahara, a minimally acceptable bargain for those who experienced its obligations rather than its perquisites. The small, poor dwellings of the many Africans in local forms of slavery seldom allowed much separation of men’s from women’s quarters. Yet separation between men’s work in preparing fields and women’s work in cultivating them in the usual swidden system, as directed by those who supervised the slaves, also limited opportunity to develop close spousal bonds. People needed a wider network than the conjugal family in Africa’s conditions of high mortality combined with unpredictable loss to slave-raiders, slave-buyers, or local masters’ distant work assignments. Fosterage became one common response, especially in highest-slavery, highest-mortality west Africa. Both fosterage and large consanguineal family forms were served by avoidance of close bonding within conjugal families. More than half the adult northern Ghanaians in one survey had been fostered out at some time, even in the middle decades of the 20th century (Fiawoo, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978). Fosterage also could provide the young with more people on whom to draw later in life, and often with opportunity to learn from elders or those with special skills (Goody, in Medick and Sabean, III 1984). Thus it paralleled adult south Malawi women’s practice of taking a confidential friend from another

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 239 matrilineage with whom to exchange complementary resources as well as confidences (Phiri, in Marks and Rathbone, XXIX 1983) and the Kenya Luo use of instructors from outside both village and lineage at puberty. As far east

as the Seychelles islands off east Africa, contemporary women may either bring someone into the home to care for young children or foster them out, using plantation wages to pay the caretaker (Pedersen, XXIX 1987). The eldest men and women became the leaders in almost all African communities south of the Sahara except the small foraging bands, which seldom lost members to slave raids. They had the widest experience, yet were least likely to be taken from the community by raiders or (among the unfree) by overlords. Gerontocracy usually was accompanied by polygyny, both because of pathogen prevalence and resource fluctuation and because of elders’ recognition that polygyny would minimize spousal bondings, which might weaken elders’ power. Postnatal abstinence—often seen as a way to lessen spousal bonding—was apt to be enforced on a mother by ridicule, beating, accusations of sorcery, or removal of her children, if a too early next birth came de-

spite separate sleeping quarters, the mother’s going to her own kin after a birth, or (as a halfway measure for men with just one wife) the husband’s use of coitus interruptus (Lesthaeghe and others, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981). Where clitoridectomy has been used, it was probably adopted because

it seemed to be a way to control a woman’s sexuality. The age-grades of many African societies form a means of controlling ac-

cess among the free to marriage and the opportunity to procreate (Jewsiewicki, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987). Slavery can control such

access for the unfree, as in Mauritania in 1980-81 (Traore, in Hill, XXIX 1985). Only 36% of women over 12 were married, among the servants of the dominant Beidane pastoralists, to 71% of Beidane women. Semifree status remained real for many Africans even after colonial or local rulers formally abolished slavery in the late 19th or early 20th century, for central decrees were not always implemented conscientiously at local levels. Endogamy can be upheld alongside polygyny among an elite by maintaining high male marriage ages, required to ensure a sufficient number of potential wives among young elite women (Lesthaeghe and others, XXIX 1986). A Rwanda study suggests that elders may promote childbearing as much to try to increase the number of potential young wives as to maintain the separation

of men’s and women’s roles, on which their own rule seems to rest (Freedman, XXIX 1981). With a 3% population growth rate, increase can outstrip remarriage as a maintainer of the possibility of polygyny, though age difference between spouses remains the greatest contributor to that possibility (Lesthaeghe and others, XXIX 1986). Yet polygyny in Africa has only been observed to correlate with noticeably fewer children per wife in polygynous marriages compared with monogamous ones in the Ivory Coast and Kenya (Pebley and others, XXIX 1986). Polygyny need not raise the average number of children per wife for all wives because of the greater prevalence of childless

240 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT women among polygynous wives, the greater age of husbands for their newer wives, and the spread of disease-induced sterility in a system of spouse circula-

tion (Anderton and Emigh, XXIV 1989). (In African spouse circulation, a woman may be lent from an older man’s household to a younger kinsman, who eventually inherits her. She may then be either divorced or rewidowed, and again remarried. Unfortunately, as she circulates among husbands, she may transmit to them—and through them to their other wives—any sterilitycausing venereal or nonvenereal infection acquired in her own circulation.) Polygyny also does not greatly affect infant mortality, except that second and later wives may experience slightly higher infant mortality if they are not with a wealthy enough husband to provide well for children’s needs (Mulder, XXIX 1987). Thus Africans could scarcely have seen gerontocracy and polygyny as pro-

moters of greater childbearing to try to make up losses suffered in slaveraiding. It seems more likely that gerontocracy prevailed because it gave authority to those most experienced, most widely acquainted with those in other communities, and least likely to be removed by outsiders. Polygyny seemed useful because it could extend every child’s survival network by pro-

viding additional foster mothers (even potential foster grandparents, in a mother’s co-wives’ parents, if both parents were removed by death or seizure). Polygyny also decreased male widowing, and the remarriage associated with it assured both widows and divorcees a continuing place as wives until they had

grown children to turn to for support (Lesthaeghe and others, XXIX 1986). Furthermore, it could enable a man to have more children earlier, even though he seldom took a new wife soon after a first marriage. Both gerontocracy and polygyny owe their continuing prevalence at least in part to the continuing possibility of being enslaved, which did not vanish even when slavery was for-

mally abolished in the Arabian peninsula in the 1950s. Enslavement reappeared in southern Sudan in 1989 as local militias (armed by the central government to help put down other rebellious local peoples) enslaved the wives and children of the men they killed, so as to rebuild their own faminedecimated ranks. Slavery has been the tsunami of Africa south of the Sahara, the destructive tidal wave generated by forces far removed from and invisible to those it engulfed. Like the tsunami in Japan, it required a social structure that could cope with its results. Early mounted aristocratic Japanese overlords with their

hereditary clans of underlings to provide services may have resembled Tamashegq or Beidane more than can ever be known, though more rainfall and

less pastoralism would make some differences. Like lordship in Japan, gerontocracy, polygyny, and fostering (reinforced by divorce, remarriage, and

abstinence) seemed an appropriate set of responses in Africa. Even in the 1970s, half the reproductive time potentially lost to divorce and widowing in Africa south of the Sahara was being made up through remarriage (Schofield, in Dupaquier and others, III 1981). Among the world’s abstinence-using soci-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 241 eties in the 1970s, 58% of abstinence users in Africa abstained a full year at least, to only 35% elsewhere (Nag, in Bulatao and Lee, III 1983). The patterns of 20th-century African family life, with the effects of slavery’s destructive tidal wave not yet entirely receded, show slavery’s imprint at least as much as the imprint of local pathogen concentrations. Pathogens might be seen as resembling Japan’s ordinary typhoons and local earthquakes, whereas the droughts of much of Africa might parallel Japan’s more terrible, but rarer, volcanic eruptions. Pathogens and droughts also have promoted gerontocracy, polygyny, and fostering. Yet there is a significant difference between Africa’s most recent droughts and Japan’s volcanic eruptions. Human choices do not bring volcanic eruptions. Drought becomes more serious as deforestation and open fields spread, as they have in the 20th century with the population growth that has made traditional swidden agriculture increasingly unworkable in Africa, led to overgrazing and desertification both south and north of the Sahara and in Southwest Asia, and strained agricultural resources in the areas of plow cultivation in North Africa and Southwest Asia. Algeria and other Saharan lands plant belts of trees to try to reverse desertification. Kenya and other states seek ways to involve the human neighbors of their forests in preserving rather than destroying them. Egypt’s leaders want to provide their cultivators with the fertilizing silt that must be periodically dredged from the reservoir behind

the great Aswan dam on the Nile, rather than continue to rely mainly on chemical fertilizers, as that dam blocked the silt’s previous annual flow onto the fields with the yearly Nile floods. Yet behind all the environmental dearadation of recent decades is the relentless pressure of growing human numbers throughout Africa and Southwest Asia. Until political and social institutions provide enough assurance for the future to make many children no longer seem economically necessary (or, at a group level, politically necessary for the group’s security), that pressure is unlikely to decrease. Figures for the Atlantic slave trade are easier to assemble than for either the Portuguese or the Arab and Berber slave trades with east and central Africa south of the Sahara. Probably, the following west African areas experienced more loss through export than they gained in new births above normal

deaths during the periods given—Senegal and the Gambia, 1710-60; Guinea, 1760-80; Gold Coast (Ghana), 1720-1800; Dahomey and Benin (today’s Benin and southwest Nigeria), 1700-90 and 1800-50; southeast Nigeria and Cameroon, 1760-1840; Loango in Zaire, 1750-1850; and Angola, 1740-1850. That in turn suggests that the entire region declined in population from about 1760 to 1850 (Manning, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987). Because buyers for the Americas sought males, low ratios of men to women for those past childhood were apt to make polygyny the only way to ensure every woman a husband. Polygyny also was quite widely prac-

ticed in the Black Sea provinces of the 19th-century Ottoman empire after its many war losses (McCarthy, XIII 1979). Increased polygyny there re-

242 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT sulted less from Mediterranean concerns for family honor than from a practi-

cal sense that women needed men to prepare fields for cultivation and the society needed births to replace losses. Atlantic slave-trading could similarly have increased existing tendencies toward polygyny in west Africa. Massive Portuguese shipment of slaves from Angola to Brazil left ratios of 57.8 men per 100 women aged 15 to 60 in the nominally free Angola population in 1777, and only 43.6 men per 100 women among those listed as slaves (Thornton, XXIX 1980). Angola is most often used to exemplify Depopulation Rampant. Yet even there, with so many women remaining, the population could, in theory, have been maintained if those women had all found partners and then given birth at intervals of less than three years. The Portuguese continued selling slaves into the interior even after Brazil abolished slavery and the Atlantic slave trade finally died. Some of these remained with their new buyers; some were resold to

yet others. In the interior, locally strong leaders were increasingly buying slaves, especially females, who could both grow crops and produce slave children. They wanted slave labor to obtain rubber and other products that they could trade with Europeans for guns to increase their power. During the halfcentury after 1850, turbulent streams of local rubber-tapping, slave-trading, and power-grabbing stretched deep into Africa's interior from the lower Zaire (or Congo) river basin. Local female slaves and female slaves from both southwest and southeast Africa were passed from place to place, bringing venereal and other diseases received on or near the coasts from Europeans or Arabs and giving them to new partners who gave them in turn to other partners. The result came to be called the central African sterility belt, in parts of which as

many as half of all women ended their reproductive years in the 1930s to 1950s without ever having given birth to a live infant. That was a terrible leg-

acy from the previous century's slave and rubber trades. The western interior from Senegal to Cameroon—the region closest to Saharan Arab and Berber slave routes and, therefore, longest continuously affected by that trade—shows the greatest incidence of former local slavery (it-

self perhaps a response in part to external slave-traders, as the locally powerful protected their immunity by assigning others a slave role). Islam has been looked to as the cause of early female marriage in the region, but that seems unlikely in view of equally early female marriage among some nonIslamized groups in central and east Africa. Almost all those groups include a distinct elite layer, though. Like elites in west Africa’s interior, they were presumably eager to maintain elite status by marrying only fellow elite members, and to maintain polygyny so as to increase the chances that at least some of their offspring would survive. They would, therefore, be ready to maximize age gaps between spouses by very early female marriage, to promote both those goals simultaneously. Elites in a west African slaveholding society probably would see maintaining status as even more crucial than elites among less enslaving east Africans, since high standing could protect against being en-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 243 slaved. As in most societies, those below elite levels would tend to follow elite

patterns as much as they could. Exchanges with interior states led to the rise of locally powerful trading states in several areas of coastal west Africa in the centuries from about A.D.

1100 to European arrival after 1444. Interior west African states traded through the forests to coasts from Senegal to Cameroon for goods to sell to Arab or Berber merchants from across the Sahara. Slightly older south central African states (like early copper-producing Zimbabwe) traded through the forests to coasts from Gabon to Angola for goods to sell to Arab merchants in the small Arab-founded east coast trading states. Few along the west coast south of the Senegal and Gambia deltas became Muslim. It was interior rulers from Senegal eastward (where Muslims traded) who turned to Islam, both to help form bonds of mutual commercial trust with these important newcomers and to turn away from themselves any slave-raiding contemplated by Arab and Berber slave-traders. After the Portuguese reached the Bakongo, they similarly welcomed Christianity in part because it kept Portuguese from seeing them as potential slaves, as well as because it undercut the matrilineal system through recognizing fathers’ rights to children’s loyalty (Hilton, in Marks and Rathbone, XXIX 1983). Bakongo rulers and provincial governors were already undercutting matrilineal patterns by using wealth gained from offices to purchase rights over their legal wives’ children from those wives’ kin. In later and harsher times, a woman’s kin might take her back from a husband to sell as a Slave, to gain bridewealth for a desired marriage. For him to keep her, his kin would have to lend them what they wanted and take her as a pawn for the repayment of the loan. Once Europeans started coming to west coastal Africa, its peoples willingly traded with them. The interior then stagnated economically, as forest and coastal products went to the Mediterranean and other destinations through coastal rather than interior states. As that change took place, the Arab and Berber states of North Africa also stagnated economically. To try to counteract this, Moroccans conquered much of the western interior south of the Sahara in 1591. The campaign was destructive enough to decrease population, leading to yet more local enslavement to try to make up for losses. The Saharan slave trade increased in importance to states on both sides of the Sahara. That importance intensified as Southwest Asia and Egypt also stagnated economically after Portuguese and other Europeans entered the Indian Ocean. After 1497, Europeans came to control Indian Ocean trade, subordinating previously dominant Arab, Iranian, Indian, Indonesian, and Malay traders. Though the population decline that accompanied economic stagnation may have been sharpest in Egypt, it also was visible in Palestine, upper Iraq, and Syria once the conquering Ottoman Turks took over those lands after 1516. Population decline in those regions affected Africa south of the Sahara too, by expanding demands for slave labor in Southwest Asia and Egypt. West African states like Benin and Dahomey became active seekers and sellers of

244 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT slaves, if they did not fall under Portugal’s direct control, as in Angola. Where

Portuguese ruled, they themselves took slaves. Slavery then apparently spread more widely in the forest and coastal areas, as an institution for identifying those who could be sold to outsiders. Furthermore, the threat of slave raids now affected the whole forest and coastal region, not just the northern edge of the forest as before. A combination of local slavery, slave-trading, and

slave-raiding came to mark the region as clearly as its combination of polygyny, gerontocracy, long lactation and abstinence, and fostering. A small potential intermediary group sprang up along much of the west coast, as local families wed daughters to the few resident European merchants and some of their offspring gained European educations. Most of these offspring and their descendants found African rather than European spouses. Europeans seldom came for more than a few trading seasons before dying or

turning to another line of activity, and a new trader cared little for a predecessor's descendants. Thus there was nothing like the Swahili-speaking Arab-African group of the east African coast, where Arab traders settled more permanently. In the eastern interior, Ethiopia and several other Christian-ruled states in the upper Nile basin blocked Egyptian and other Arab slave-traders until the 15th century. Many local people in that region are still not Muslims, unlike western interior peoples. Zealous Islamic reformers in the early 19th century sought to limit women more to the household across the entire interior where Muslims lived. The reformers also preached fuller observance of the basic duties of daily prayer, almsgiving, annual fasting, and pilgrimage (to Mecca if possible, or to holy sites nearer home). They were more successful in towns than in rural areas. Rural women’s field work could not be given up, either in

Africa south of the Sahara or in North Africa and Southwest Asia. East and south central Africa, where the Portuguese arrived after rounding the Cape of Good Hope in 1488, show more polygyny where Portuguese ruled and took slaves than where they did not. Moreover, Arab slave-trading in the 19th century evidently promoted both gerontocracy and plural marriage

for older men. In the heyday of the east Africa slave trade, men were either taken prisoner or died fighting slavers. Those losses may even have come close to equalizing the two-to-one ratio of women to men in the slaves who reached Egypt and Southwest Asia, in terms of overall local losses in east Africa.

In the extreme south, where the Dutch settlers of 1685 and their later British conquerors have long been present, the early Dutch also saw all local inhabitants as potential slaves. Their descendants were incensed when Britain freed slaves in 1833. Nonetheless, because they were few and only enslaved for their own use, they had far less effect on local institutions than slavetraders elsewhere in Africa. It was when diamond and gold mines were opened

after 1867 in South Africa’s interior (by operators wanting nominally nonpermanent male laborers who would leave their families at home) that

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 245 something much like the gerontocracy of regions farther north developed out of local age-grade systems. Survival in the grueling mine work replaced hunting and war as proof of mature manhood. Not incidentally, it also removed young men from competing with elders for power. Yet the polygyny that accompanied gerontocracy farther north scarcely developed, for most young men eventually came home to marry. At bottom, slavery was a system for maintaining power through enabling elites to command the actions of enough others so that no potential competitor could challenge them. Those elites could be Spaniards and Portuguese (and later English, French, and Dutch), using African slaves in the Americas to obtain mineral and other wealth by which to hold power in Europe; or descendants of Europeans in the Americas, continuing to use slaves after independence to increase their own wealth and power; or Arabs, Berbers, Iranians, Turks, and others, using African slaves for daily work together with slaves from various regions ranging from eastern Europe to central Asia as trusted officials. Slaves were even preferred for state office in much of North Africa and Southwest Asia because they were kinless, utterly dependent on the ruler, and not concerned to build a lineage’s power because they were not recognized as part of any lineage. Africa’s own elites used other Africans as slaves to gain possessions and power (Klein, in Robertson and Klein, XXIX 1983), especially in true slave societies like that of the 19th-century Bobangi along the

central Zaire River, in which slaves produced all surpluses (Harms, in Robertson and Klein, XXIX 1983). Bobangi men and women used slave men to paddle goods-carrying canoes and slave women as cultivators to feed the canoe-paddlers, the owners, and the owners’ children. Most African slaveholding societies were merely slave-owning, like the Fulani, who used slaves but also worked with cattle themselves.

As a system of maintaining power, slavery kept the entire society in the mold impressed on it by those at the top. The forced labor required of their new subjects by European colonial officials, after conquering most of Africa at

the end of the 19th century, was another such maintainer of control and molder of society. So was recruited mine labor, both in South Africa and in other mineral-rich areas from its borders north into Zaire. Such laborers were recruited as permanent settlers more than nonpermanent laborers, except in South Africa. There, foreign labor was still being recruited as the 1980s ended, rather than let ordinary South African laborers settle permanently in the mining towns. Many countries bordering South Africa accepted that recruitment as a stopgap to employ populations too large for local enterprise to employ. Unhappily, they also contributed thereby to maintaining the South Africa government’s fiction that South Africa’s indigenous residents were not part of South Africa’s settler residents’ society, and to the job scarcity that made those ordinary laborers attack one another as rivals. Yet another form of control was used by Dahomey’s rulers in the slave-trading era. They relied heavily on thousands of legal wives, in a patrilineal society in which a wife’s al-

246 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT legiance was transferred at marriage to her husband and his kin more thoroughly than in many African societies (Bay, in Robertson and Klein, XXIX 1983). Dahomey’s rulers followed almost the same principle as Ottoman Turks in the Mediterranean world at that time. The Ottomans used slaves in at least some official posts until the early 19th century, relying on those whose loyalty had been removed from kin to ruler (as master-owner) and who must, therefore, at least in theory, be loyal to the death. Slavery may have been more visible in many parts of the Americas and in Africa south of the Sahara than in either North Africa or Southwest Asia, where fewer people were in slave status. Yet slavery was as essential to slaveholding societies in North Africa and Southwest Asia as in regions with more numerous slaves. The consequences of its formal abolition (effectively begun in 1839 in Ottoman domains but not completed in Egypt, for example, until well after 1854) were at least as momentous for societal restructuring there as other mid-19th-century developments usually given more attention by historians, like the introduction of the printing press, the arrival of the first steamships (stepping up the pace of Mediterranean trade), or the 1869 opening of the Suez Canal and the associated strengthening of European interest in both Egypt and Southwest Asia, as the Ottoman grip on those areas was loos-

ened by successful revolts even before World War I brought down the Ottomans. For the Ottomans, ending slavery led to welcoming free Turkish-speaking refugees to Anatolia from lands newly taken by Russia in the 19th-century expansion into central Asia. Instead of bringing slaves to work cultivable lands left empty by population decline, the Ottomans sought both to weaken Russia and to impress western Europe by inviting central Asia’s Turkish speakers as free settlers. (Egypt’s self-aggrandizing governor sought slave labor for the Sudan in the 1860s and 1870s, using European adventurers as his representatives, but even he did not try to reestablish slavery in Egypt itself.) The influx of central Asian Turks into Anatolia gave people in the Turkish republic that replaced the Ottomans there in 1923 enough sense of being Turkish as well as Muslim to accept a national identity that did not rely entirely on Islam. Islam

remained important as Turks’ religion, but it did not govern attitudes so strongly that (for example) women in the Turkish republic had to wear concealing garb to be accepted as legitimately present in public areas outside their homes. Yet throughout the 20th century, Islamic reformers in Arab states and Iran continued to insist with considerable success that concealing garb for women was essential to the proper functioning of society. It is thus not surprising that Turkey was the first Muslim-peopled nation to join Europeans in diminishing fertility. Istanbul and Izmir (the largest cities) already matched European fertility levels by the 1940s, and possibly earlier (Behar, XIII no date). So did Beirut in Lebanon; but that was a city half of whose residents were Christians, and Christian Lebanese strove in every way to emulate their European fellow Christians. By the 1940s, Christian Leba-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 247 nese in Beirut were using modern modes of family limitation so that they could invest more in each child’s education. People in smaller Turkish cities and then in Turkish villages only began reducing fertility after the Turkish government legalized contraceptives in 1966, finally recognizing that Turkey’s soaring population would outstrip Turkey’s economic resources if not checked. By mid-20th century, Arab numbers also were soaring, but Arabs appeared to rely (consciously or unconsciously) on selling oil to provide for themselves, as Arabs in states without oil sought support from oil producers. Consciously or unconsciously, Arabs also may have seen growing numbers as a way to pressure their unwanted neighbor Israel to allow departed Palestinians back into the homeland they left in 1948, when Israel proclaimed the founding of a Jewish state so that survivors of the Holocaust in Hitler’s Europe (and of all the pogroms and persecutions that preceded it) could have their own nation-state

in which to preserve both Jews and Judaism. Only in the 1980s did even a mildly significant downturn in growth rate become visible in Egypt, home of the largest Arab population. High fertility in the Arab world and also in Iran, as in Rwanda, may have continued seeming desirable in part to maintain a social system based on sharp differentiation between women’s limited domestic sphere and men’s more public sphere. High fertility in the Arab world and

Iran, as in Africa south of the Sahara, also continues to provide increasing numbers of younger women compared with the numbers of slightly older men. It thereby makes continuing mild polygyny possible, even though marriage ages are going up for women and down for men. For many Islamic reformers, it thus appears to validate scriptural Islamic teaching on both the legitimacy and the limits of polygyny. In short, North Africa and Southwest Asia continue, as in the days of slavery, to display more moderate versions of

patterns prevalent to their south in Africa. Fertility remained high throughout the 1980s among Arabs and Berbers.

Phosphates in Morocco took the place of oil in Algeria as anticipated sustainer. Fertility also remained high in Iran, where both the former monarchy and its Islamic republican successor have relied on oil to provide for growing numbers. High fertility may well have been encouraged more by political feelings of wanting to increase Muslims’ role in the world at large (particularly in relation to Israel) than by the family-level economic considerations often stressed by theorists. Muslim leaders and their followers know—and many of them speak of it—that the world’s Muslims are no more numerous than the world’s Christians, and that North Africa and Southwest Asia hold only a third as many people as Europe. The enduring tendency to relate themselves to Europe appears in the continued use of the term “Middle East” by North African and Southwest Asian scholars and rulers to describe their region, rather than finding a name comparable to the term “East Asia,” which scholars and rulers in China, Korea, and Japan have succeeded in having used in place of Europeans’ “Far East.” Until “Middle East” disappears from the vocabulary of those

248 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT both inside and outside North Africa and Southwest Asia, desire to keep numbers increasing is apt to outweigh either economic or environmentaldegradation considerations, even though both of these press toward reducing fertility. Most population theorists look at high fertility everywhere as a result of ordinary families’ effort either to satisfy their own labor needs and labor demands from elites ina nonmonetized economy, or to obtain enough income in a monetized economy to feed members when their real wages fall because machines can do what they do more accurately (and supposedly more cheaply in current cost-figuring, which overlooks the social costs of joblessness). That often may be correct, but it does not hold for a group who sees numbers as a form of political power needed to reach goals that are political rather than economic, as in much of Southwest Asia and North Africa. In the past 150 years or so, gradual introduction of basic public sanitation measures worked out in Europe has lowered both early mortality and adult mortality in Southwest Asia and North Africa. Whether these measures were introduced by local authorities, by Europeans working through local authorities, or by Europeans themselves, they also increased longevity, and therefore both the number reaching maturity and their actual reproductive spans. Population increase rates consequently rose to unprecedented levels. Actual num-

bers born into families of students surveyed at a university in Libya in 1981—7.7 for the students’ own sibships and 10.67 for their parents’ sibships but with far fewer reaching reproductive ages (Al-Rubeai and others, XIII

1983)—can stand as a suggestion. That might seem high, since Libyan women probably marry at least two years earlier than other women in the region (Fargues, XIII 1986). Still, the likelihood that births would vary inversely with socioeconomic standing in a modernizing society (the higher the level, the fewer the births), together with the likelihood that students would come from higher levels, would tend to counteract the marriage age difference. A 1972 survey in Jordan confirmed the inverse relation between socioeconomic standing and number of births in that Arab country (Allman, in Allman, XIII 1978). Libya has only recently begun modernizing, and in a not yet modernizing society, the wealthy tend to have more births. Yet families in Ksar Hellal in Tunisia, the first Arabic-speaking state with a full family-planning program, at first would not consider contraception until they had at least four children

(Stamm and Tsui, in Handwerker, II 1986). Like Iranians surveyed in 1970-72 in Isfahan (Gulick and Gulick, in Nag, III 1975), they may have felt that two sons and two daughters is a minimum desirable family, giving each child a sibling of its own sex and/or confirming the parents’ adult standing. Meyer Fortes suggests (in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978) that almost all Af-

ricans believe that one’s progeny demonstrate one’s manhood or womanhood. Population increases will continue as long as such beliefs persist, both in North Africa and Southwest Asia and in Africa south of the Sahara. Feeling beleaguered internationally also no doubt helps to keep fertility in Israel unusually high for an industrialized country. Even in Africa south of the Sahara,

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT , 249 the labor-needs interpretation of high fertility does not fully explain precolonial, colonial, and postcolonial experience. Christine Oppong (in Bulatao and Lee, III 1983) suggests that traditional African societies gave women at least three major types of incentive for high fertility: the clear economic incentive of children’s providing labor and future security, supplemented by hope of obtaining more support from husband, kin, or both because births strengthened the lineage; the sociopolitical incentive of raising a woman’s standing and authority in the community; and the psychological incentive of obtaining a closer companion than her husband was apt to be, both currently and in the future. Not wanting to be forgotten after death also was apt to influence both men and women. Most of the other points could play a part in men’s as well as women’s thinking. Certainly a man as well as a

woman could hope for more support from kin if his wife’s childbearing strengthened the lineage, whether his own in a patrilineal society or his wife’s in a matrilineal one.

The age-old pattern of long birth spacings still found in most of Africa surely reflects concern for maximal survival of those born. Long spacing maximizes women’s capacity to work in the fields and to carry on small-scale local trade (Mabogunje, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981). Many women still rely on trading to exchange what they can grow or make for wanted goods from outside their own community. Long spacings were useful in slave-raiding times because women with only one young child to carry could flee more easily. In the late 19th century, when nearby rulers were seeking slave labor to amass the wealth and power they wanted to try to stave off European rule, the Kusasi of northern Ghana only let women move about with armed male es-

corts (Cleveland, in Handwerker, II 1986). Long spacing means desire for more survivors, not for fewer births, in view of high mortality, the continuing impact of slavery through the 19th century, and the labor demands of 20thcentury colonial rulers. As rulers who resisted Europeans foresaw, colonial regimes made heavy demands for labor service. They wanted roads built to maintain their rule, and to make it easier to obtain local products for world markets and bring the ruling country’s products in for sale. They wanted other labor services to provide goods for trade, whether by rubber-tapping in central Africa, plantation work in Angola and Mozambique, or mine work in South Africa. Portugal’s colonial

government in Mozambique and Angola even earned money by providing mine workers to South Africa. These unprecedented labor demands made women feel even more need for births than before, as they struggled to grow crops with fewer husbands and brothers actually in the community all year. One subdistrict of Burkina Faso in the early 20th century saw a third to a half of the adult men having to work at local French administrators’ orders for periods varying from days to months (Cordell and Gregory, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1981). Moreover, each adult man had to pay a monetary head tax, and each household head had to turn over a required amount of an assigned cash crop.

250 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT The administration intended the payment for the cash crop to provide money for the head tax, with a little left for the grower. Those previously unfree might see both head tax and cash crop as scarcely more onerous than their former masters’ levies on their crops, but even they were unused to the scope of labor service required. For the free, all the requirements were burdens not previously felt. Though Angola’s sex ratio gradually rebalanced between 1880 and 1918, shipments of men to South Africa as mine workers brought a new imbalance (Heywood and Thornton, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987)—not as great as in 1777, but comparable to the 68.4 men age 18 or over per 100 women of that age in southern Malawi in 1945 (Gregory and Mandala, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987). The Malawi imbalance came about because British administrators facilitated similar recruitment. However, men might well evade being counted so as to avoid labor service. Actual ratios may, therefore, have been less imbalanced than official counts. Rudimentary health measures brought proportions surviving to the late teens up to almost 70% in Angola by 1940 (Heisel, in Brass and others, XXIX 1968). Though that was lower than 84% in neighboring Zaire under Belgian rule in 1955-57, 81% in Benin farther north in 1960, or even 74% in Portuguese Mozambique in 1950, it meant that developments like those in North Africa and Southwest Asia took place there and elsewhere in Africa south of the Sahara. More reached reproductive ages and lived longer as reproducers, giving birth to far more as the years rolled on and making Africa the fastestgrowing continent in population between 1950-55 and 1980-85 (Demeny, in Menken, III 1986).

For those in the central Africa sterility belt who were rescued from infecundity by the penicillin campaigns of the 1950s, giving birth was doubly welcome, especially in those local ethnic groups that declined in number early in the 20th century. Most groups declined in size after colonial rule began, largely because heavy new labor demands took members away from produc-

ing food. The greatest losses came where labor demands remained high, rather than easing off after the first roads were built. The Nupe of Nigeria only

began recovering after a low point in about 1920 (Adeniyi, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978), which also was a low point for most other groups. Many local ethnic groups entered colonial rule at odds with neighboring groups, having raided them or been raided by them during the slave-trading era. Withdrawal of colonial rule after 1956, therefore, left such groups with feelings like those of Arab Muslims faced with a much larger Europe just across the Mediterranean and an even larger worldwide Christendom, particularly since the first government of almost every newly independent country based itself on the numbers-favoring principle of universal suffrage. Competi-

tion for power between local ethnic groups almost everywhere except Senegal—where Wolof commandingly outnumbered Peul (Fulani), Serer, and

Tukolor together—soon led to military takeovers in the name of national unity, public order, and an end to corruption. All too often, however, attacks

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 251 on corrupt politicians came to seem only to mean someone else was receiving perquisites wanted by the military. At the end of the 1980s, every census since

1960 in Nigeria had been disputed by a group claiming that it was undercounted and that some other group was overcounted, as military coups alternated with efforts to restore civilian rule. Such struggles between local ethnic groups made their ordinary members feel (much as with lineages in earlier years) that it was a duty to their own future as members of those groups—not merely an obligation to other members of them—to have as many children as possible. Sometimes, as with the small Wataita group in Kenya, families tried to maximize births in the hope that one or two would do well enough to take care of the others (Mkangi, XXIX 1983). More often a remembered decimation left a small cohort in the next generation believing that it must make up for losses suffered, and another, less small cohort who still felt that way in the generation after that (Dawson, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1981). Men’s marriage ages decreased and monogamy increased because newly available wage work enabled men to marry earlier. This made husbands less patient with a wife’s long abstinence; and a wife who lacked co-wives to share household burdens was apt to want more children to help with cultivation and chores. Abstinence and birth intervals, therefore, decreased. In short, only Southwest Asia and Africa both north and south of the Sahara showed relatively little change from high fertility through the 1980s, when all other major regions outside Europe

were moving toward European fertility levels. | Africa south and north of the Sahara, together with Southwest Asia, are treated in this overview as a large, though varied, unit because they share im-

portant factors. These include polygyny, in differing degrees; local use of slaves until recent times, in differing degrees; and maintenance of high fertility through the 1980s. High fertility often has been associated with Islamic teachings. Yet the great early Muslim teacher al-Ghazzali saw poverty as a leaiti-

mate reason for contraception. He also accepted preserving a wife’s health and beauty, and keeping a bondwoman from becoming pregnant and unable to work (Abedin, XIII 1977). It seems more reasonable to associate high fertility among Muslims either with their own family economic situation or with feelings of being in a local or a world minority. Another shared factor for Africans and Southwest Asians is their relatively minor population downturns, compared with the 16th-century Americas. In most regions, they also shared a far briefer experience than the Americas with European rule. In North Africa and Southwest Asia, that rule often was somewhat cloaked by European use of an advisory rather than a directly adminis-

trative role. Moreover, there was little lasting European settlement in Southwest Asia or Africa, except in Israel and at the southern tip of Africa. A

crucially important factor was the slave trade from the region south of the Sahara to the region north and east of it, which played a central role in forming both areas’ social systems. Their unity is underscored by the reality that by the mid-1970s, all of the world’s highest-fertility countries were concentrated

252 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT in Africa and Southwest Asia (Eberstadt, in Eberstadt, [I] 1981). Yet there are significant regional variations. These will be brought out in looking successively at Turkey and Iran, the Arabic-speaking lands from the Arabian peninsula to Morocco, and the areas south of the Sahara defined by marital regimes and historical experience—the western grasslands and coastal regians, which provided slaves for the Americas and for the Arab lands and beyond; the eastern grasslands and coastal regions and the central realm, which also provided slaves for the Arab lands and beyond; and the extreme south, with its unique experience of centuries of European settlement. In Ottoman-ruled Anatolia (today’s Turkey), the 16th century saw enough population growth so that outbreaks of unrest in 1596 and Ottoman tax registers both suggest crowding (Cook, XIII 1972). Some of that growth may have been other Turkish speakers joining their newly powerful kin, for Anatolian Turks defeated the eastern Roman empire in 1453 and then conquered the Cairo-based rulers of the Arab lands south of Anatolia and along the Nile. It is unknown, though possible, that Anatolia felt the 17th-century cooling that

dampened population growth in nearby Europe, but certainly the 17thcentury epidemics that set back populations in Europe also killed many in Anatolia and the rest of Southwest Asia. Between 1800 and 1830, after a probable mild recovery, Anatolia’s population again declined. Continuing epidemics contributed. So did the first of the series of wars that punctuated the 19th century, as the Balkans and then Arab Southwest Asia fought to loosen

and finally eliminate Ottoman rule. Imperial decline made 19th-century Ottoman Turks welcome Turkishspeaking refugees from Russian conquest in central Asia with enthusiasm. It also made them welcome (with more mixed feelings) Turkish speakers who left southeast Europe as Ottoman domains there won independence. Early20th-century Ottoman Turks welcomed with similarly mixed feelings the few Turkish speakers who returned from North Africa as it slipped into European rather than Ottoman hands. In half a century, 5 million came—almost as massive and rapid an influx as that of western Europeans into the new United States in its first 50 years, and equivalent to more than 25% of Anatolia’s population by the time the government took its first true provincial censuses be-

tween 1881 and 1893 (Karpat, XIII 1985). At least another half million left the entire Ottoman empire in the same period, many of them Christians leaving Arab provinces for the Americas. Some Christians from Arab provinces went to coastal west Africa, finding commercial opportunities there as Europeans took control. Nonetheless, that massive 19th-century influx gave 20th-

century Turks a unique psychological advantage over all other Muslim Southwest Asians and North Africans. They had just received rather than lost people, before the Ottoman empire broke up as a result of choosing to join Germany against Russia in World War I. Turks were ready to fight successfully to keep out of Anatolia those western Europeans who took over their former

Arab domains, nominally as protectorates or League of Nations mandates

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT , 253 with local leadership, but in practice as virtual colonies. Turks also were ready to fight successfully to force on Greece a population exchange, by which Turk-

ish speakers in Greece went to Anatolia and Greek speakers in western Anatolia went to Greece in 1922-23. True, 19th-century wars left soldierproviding regions short of men. Polygyny had to increase to maintain not only honorable marriage for all women (preferably before age 20), but also population levels that could support both ordinary daily needs and the extraordinary military drain (McCarthy, XIII 1979). Yet from 1878 to 1912, both Muslims and the relatively few Greek and Armenian Christians in Anatolia increased about 50%, though Muslims probably would not have matched Christian increases without continued immigration from the Balkans. Birth expectancies in 1878-1911 were still rather short in Anatolia, varying only from 30 to 32.5 in the western provinces, 30 to 35 in the north, and 27 to 30 in the center and

the east to a mere 27 in the south (McCarthy, XIII 1983).

The greatest losses came in the wars of 1912-23. Fully 2.5 million Anatolian Muslims died in the pre-1914 Balkan wars, World War I, and the struggle for Anatolia after 1918. Anatolia’s Christian population almost entirely evaporated. A million Christians (mostly Armenians) died as the Turks sought to remove them to Arab lands early in World War I, fearing that the Russian empire might use its own Armenians and other border peoples to spearhead a drive into eastern Anatolia. Armenians and others died in forced marches as merciless as those used with 19th-century Cherokee in the United States. Another 1.8 million Christians simply left, most of them Greeks going to Greece and surviving Armenians going to Arab lands or the Americas. A few Anatolian Armenians joined Armenians in neighboring Iran. Istanbul— more than half Christian in 1844—80, as Christians in Ottoman lands flocked there to be near powerful European diplomats and almost equally powerful representatives of European corporations—became more than half Muslim again as Muslims flocked there too (Karpat, XIII 1985). By 1900, Muslims

thereafter. |

were 70% of Istanbul’s people, and their proportion continued to grow During 1885-1926, 2.29% of all Istanbul husbands were polygynists at some time, while 4% of wives were polygynous at some time (Behar, XIII 1986). In Istanbul, as in most of Southwest Asia and North Africa, polygyny clearly was a luxury. Although 12.5% of those with high posts in the Islamic hierarchy and 10% of those with high posts in the civil government or the military hierarchy were polygynists, even a wealthy commercial district showed only 3.4%, and the central business area showed just 1.4%. Far more were ina household with a wife’s father (21% of the Islamic hierarchy leaders, 14% of the high civil and military officials, 13% of artisans and shopkeepers, and even

6% of wage workers), suggesting that fathers sought to attach promising young men by marrying daughters to them. Endogamy persisted in Anatolian villages and town neighborhoods, with up to two out of three marriages made between kin or neighbors, especially in villages (Olson, in Kagitcibasi, XIII

254 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 1982). In recent times, 29.3% of marriages have been between kin in all of Turkey, and 35.7% in the villages (Fisek, in Erder, XIII 1985). Istanbul’s 2.29% of polygynist husbands in 1885-1926 differs little from the 2% estimated for all of Turkey in recent years. Polygyny was officially outlawed when civil marriage alone was recognized in 1926; but those who are satisfied with Islamic ceremony, like most rural people, ignore the law. That is why 1933 to 1981 saw seven successive laws to legitimize all children regis-

tered by their father as legitimate, even though no civil marriage was registered for them to be born into (Aviter, in Erder, XIII 1985). There is almost no legal divorce in Anatolian villages, for legal divorce must be civil divorce from civil marriage. Yet the ideology of family honor has remained strong enough in those villages to continue to break out in blood feuds (Unsal, in Erder, XIII

1985). It is, therefore, not surprising if a village husband resolves marital problems by taking a new wife, while her predecessor (still honorably wed) makes a visit to her family that may last until she dies. From the standpoint of honor, that is preferable to a divorce, which would require finding her another husband if she could still give birth.

In view of the tremendous 1912-23 losses, fully half the gains made through immigration in the preceding 60 years, Turks could be expected to continue trying to repopulate their newly republican homeland after 1923. In 1905-40, years of heavy war-widowing, 21.9% of all marriages in Anatolia and European Turkey were remarriages (Behar, XIII 1985). Clearly universal marriage was still being upheld, for that was more than twice as high as remarriage rates in 19th-century Greece with similar life expectancies. Widowing, not divorce, preceded most of those remarriages, which were actually a smaller percentage of all marriages than in monogamous, nondivorcing, nonuniversally marrying 16th-century England with a slightly greater life expectancy.

Marriage has continued to come early for women in Turkey, partly from concern for honor and partly from a wish for children, who often are still wanted in villages for farm work. Only since 1970 or so have farmlands begun to seem crowded, given early-19th-century depopulation followed by wartime losses of men of working age. Children have recently begun to be wanted as fu-

ture potential industrial workers, to be sent to cities in Turkey or Europe to remit part of their wages to their families. As in Europe, so in Turkey and around the world, rural people send out migrants before trying to limit births. Even in Istanbul, where women’s marriage ages have been higher than anywhere else in Turkey since at least the early 1900s, they remain low compared with western Europe. Mean marriage ages in 1906-10 in Istanbul were 19.83 for women, but 29.25 for men. In 1916-20, these rose to 20.85 for women and 30.38 for men. In 1926-30, they went up to 21.53 for women but down to 28.94 for men. The traditional gap between men’s and women’s marriage ages began eroding when polygyny became illegal. By 1936-40, marriage ages rose more than two years for women, to 23.66, and less than a year for

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 255 men, to 29.68 (Behar, XIII 1985). Yet in the same years, average marriage ages for village women ranged only from 14 to 18 (Duben, XIII 1990). A 1972 study of all married women of all ages showed a mean of 16.8 in villages, with 14.5% wed before the supposed legal minimum of 14. The age in towns was slightly higher, 17.2, with 12.4% wed before 14. In cities other than the three largest, it was 17.6, with 12.8% wed before 14. In Istanbul, Ankara, and Izmir together it was 18.5, with 13.0% wed before 14 (Ozbay, in Erder, XIII 1985).

The pre-1940 Istanbul figures were for marriages contracted in the city, whereas the 1972 figures included all currently living in Istanbul, Ankara, and Izmir. These major cities have grown tremendously in recent years, as people from smaller cities, towns, and villages come to gecekondu or shantytowns

around them. Therefore, their percentage of early marriages and their progression of marriage ages probably reflect a mixture of village marriage ages with the marriage ages of larger places. The earlier Istanbul figures demonstrate that male marriage ages were not apt to rise past 30 even in a metropolis, though men tended to wed later in towns and cities than in villages. Rural men wanted sons and grandsons as fellow workers in the fields early in their own lives, not just in their wives’ lives. Thus the 1972 study shows an average marriage age of 20.4 for all married men of all ages in villages (with 23.3% under the supposed legal minimum of 15), 23.1 in towns (10.9% under age 15), 22.6 in smaller cities (10.4% under age 15), and 24.0 in the three largest cities (8.1% under age 15). It seemed as if the earliest marrying men were likelier to go to smaller cities or towns than to the largest cities, whereas men who

took the youngest wives were slightly likelier to head for the largest cities (Ozbay, in Erder, XIII 1985). Total fertility rates reflecting past performance clearly show the metropolises always lowest from 1945 into the 1960s (Shorter, XIII 1968), when Turkey’s government at last realized that the increasing flow of workers to western Europe must mean that Turkey was already unable to employ all its current population. Contraceptive use was, therefore, finally legalized and even actively promoted. In both 1945 and 1966, other cities and towns showed the next lowest fertility rates, whereas rural areas showed the highest fertility. By 1978, the all-Turkey total fertility rate had gone below 1966 rates for nonmetropolitan cities (Shorter and Macura, XIII 1982), but average live

births for all women aged 45 to 49 in 1978 were still 6.3 (Kavadarli, XIII 1981). That was above the all-Turkey total fertility rate for 1966, but a little below the all-Turkey rate for 1945. Though women in the gecekondu or shantytowns around Istanbul and Ankara were still marrying at ages 18 to 20, they now spent 10 to 15 years in childbearing rather than 20 or more (Kandiyoti, in Kagitcibasi, XIII 1982), much like those married in Istanbul in 1921-25, who already had 60% of their births in the first decade of marriage (Behar, XIII no date). Mean current marriage ages for villages near Izmir were about 18 for women and 21 to 22 for men by 1978, but still about 15 for women and 18 for men in more rural central Anatolia, where remittances from family members

256 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT working elsewhere may have enabled them to marry early (Balaman, in Erder,

XII] 1985). The average number of births for those wed after 1965 would probably be four or fewer, rather than six or more (Berent, VI 1974). Already in 1945, 4.32 was the average number born to those in Istanbul and Izmir who reached ages 45 to 49 for the wife in her first marriage, rather than the 6.31 of other cities or the 9.14 estimate for villagers. Because average birth expectan-

cies in 1945 had only risen to 40 to 45 from the 30 or so of 1878-1911 (McCarthy, XIII 1983), many village women did not reach 45 before either they or their husbands died. By the 1970s, Turkish workers abroad were having noticeably fewer children than couples in Turkey, under the pressure of industrial life (Abadan-Unat, in Kagitcibasi, XII] 1982). As literacy in Turkey continued to rise from 1975 levels—75% for men and 48% for women, but with only 13% of men and 6% of women having gone beyond elementary school—fertility levels were expected to keep going down. Households in rural Turkey remained large. Rural landholders, in particular, had only 33.8% nuclear households in 1972. Among other rural social groups, sharecroppers had 68.3% nuclear households and agricultural day laborers had 79.3%. In both rural and urban areas, the poorest were most apt to have nuclear households and the wealthiest most apt to have extended households (Duben, in Kagitcibasi, XIII 1982). Yet 5.5% of one town’s households

were cooperating economically even though they were in adjacent homes rather than under one roof (Benedict, in Peristiany, XII 1976), and significant numbers of nominally nuclear rural land-owning households also cooperated economically (Ozbay, in Erder, XII] 1985). Thus effectively extended households would seem to be fairly numerous. The existence of cooperating house-

holds under separate but conveniently close roofs, as well as extended households, suggests that cooperating households may be an adaptation to decreasing births as mortality continued declining and birth expectancies reached southern and eastern European levels. In 1966, infant mortality was still 16.7% in rural areas and about 13% in cities (Shorter, XIII 1968), but by 1986, infant mortality for all of Turkey was down to 7.56%. Post-1945 Turkish leaders were as determined as the republic’s founders to bond Turkey to Europe. They joined the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, for example, not the Central Treaty Organization formed at the same time by the United States and others to include states along the Soviet Union’s southern border. Turkey’s republican founders did not want their nation to be seen as Asian, even though its Muslim heritage made it unlike every state in Europe except Albania. Outlawing polygyny was part of that effort, as was establishing

state schools to educate teachers of Islamic doctrine. The state thereby ensured that Islamic teachers studied natural sciences and world history, not only Islamic history. This proved a prudent safeguard against negative responses to new ideas from Europe and North America. The republic also took control of private religious foundations, whose beneficiaries thereafter received their income through government channels. All these steps, which

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 257 came out of a long history of government supervision of religious life, contributed to popular acceptance rather than rejection of the vote for women in the 1920s. That contrasted sharply with neighboring Iran, where religious leaders rejected women’s equal participation in public life and eventually led a popu-

lar revolution in 1978-79 that overthrew the monarchy that promoted it. Southwest Asia’s longstanding pattern, as developed soon after cities appeared, has been early universal marriage for women, relatively late marriage for men, and mild polygyny, with the former component of large female en-

tourages for the powerful gradually giving way during the 20th century to slightly later marriage for women. Late-20th-century Turkey further modified the pattern to include earlier marriage ages for men, official nonacceptance of polygyny, and some acceptance of the possibility that a woman might be eco-

nomically self-supporting rather than marry and have children if she had enough education to guarantee a valued position in society. Neighboring Iran did not, however, nor did Arab Southwest Asia and most of North Africa (with a partial exception in Tunisia), the other regions where that longstanding pattern had continued when Islam became the basis of all but a few Christians’

and Jews’ sense of the community. ,

Iranians had less success than Turks in keeping Europeans out of their homeland. The discovery of oil brought Britain actively into their affairs before World War I. British cooperation with imperial Russia against imperial Germany in World War I and with Soviet Russia against Nazi Germany in World War II brought British and Russian troops into Iran twice in a generation to prevent an Iranian monarch from choosing the German side. The inclusion of United States troops in the second set of occupiers was followed by the inclusion of Iran’s monarchy in the Central Treaty Organization, which the United States fostered in the 1950s (but could not win lasting Arab adherence to because of resentment against United States support of Israel’s formation in 1948). Iran’s shah used oil wealth to try to change his people and his nation along many of the lines established in neighboring Turkey. Life expectancies and mortality rates at all ages changed at a pace rather like that of Turkey. By 1976, birth expectancy reached about 55 for both women and men, and infant mortality was below 10%. Yet one telling difference showed that all the shah’s efforts were failing to alter underlying attitudes. Infant mortality for girls, lower than for boys in Turkey and most of the rest of the world, was higher in Iran than for boys. Fewer than 1% of Iranian women aged 45 to 49 had never wed in the early 1960s (Youssef, in Beck and Keddie, XIII 1978), one of the lowest percentages in Southwest Asia or the world. Moreover, official censuses in the early 1960s still showed more than 8.4 as the average number born to women in unbroken first marriages at ages 45 to 49 (Allman, in Allman, XIII 1978), or almost as many as in rural Turkey in 1945. Among a group of wage-worker couples in Isfahan in 1970-72, the wives’ average marriage age was the legal

258 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT minimum of 15. A number were even contracted in marriage at age 9 or 10, unheard of in Turkey by then, though they did not live with their husbands until after puberty. Isfahan-born wives’ average was 14.29, below the legal minimum, to their husbands’ 24.24—9.95 years older. Wives born elsewhere, mostly in villages, were married at 15.45 to husbands of 24.24—8.79 years older (Gulick and Gulick, in Allman, XIII 1978). This was lower than men’s marriage ages in most of Europe, though higher than in Turkey. Yet the age gap is what matters. It can support enough polygyny to enable almost all women to marry early, maintaining the sense of family honor that continues to be strong all over Southwest Asia. Significantly, it still persists through most of Iranian society. Like higher infant mortality for girls, Iran’s spousal age gap clearly signals that the traditional patrilineal patriarchal family system was still extremely strong in the 1970s, despite half a century of royal efforts to move away from old patterns in this as in other aspects of Iranian life. The shah who took the throne from the former dynasty in the 1920s eliminated large female entourages, but he did not try to enable women to vote, as in Turkey. Nor could he bring private religious foundations or the instruction of Islamic teachers into government hands, for Iran’s Islamic hierarchy was used to advising rather than being supervised by government. The aging Islamic teachers who led the revolution against his son in 1978-79 remembered bitterly his efforts to control religious foundations and teachers, and also to require that women no longer wear the customary concealing garb over their ordinary clothing when they left their homes. When that son tried to give women the vote and to incorporate a right for women as well as men to seek divorce in Iran’s legal code, Is-

lamic teachers who opposed other aspects of his policies used these new decrees to whip up popular alarm that Islamic family values were in danger. A woman's right to divorce was limited in Islamic legal tradition to reasons stipu-

lated in her personal marriage contract or to nonsupport from her husband, for which she could ask an Islamic judge to declare her marriage over. Her father and brothers could then seek another husband for her or have the right to have her and her children live with them. In other divorces, initiated by the husband, he kept the children. What particularly incensed the Islamic teachers who led the 1978-79 revolution was the attack on polygyny implied by the new marriage law’s recognition of awoman’s right to seek divorce if her husband took another wife. Such an attack indeed struck at the heart of traditional Iranian values, which actively maintained husbands’ authority by making them almost a decade older than their young wives and relied on polygyny to make honorable early marriage possible for all women. Other issues made more headlines as the world observed the revolution in the media, such as resentment against United States military aid to the shah and special privileges given in return to United States citizens, both military and civilian. Yet many young women students’ willingness to support that revolution despite what many outside Iran saw as

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 259 its outmoded view of women’s role—separation from men in every possible aspect of public life, with a modified form of concealing garb required for every woman outside her home—can only be understood in terms of their also continuing to believe that every woman should marry, that it is appropriate for a woman’s husband to be enough older than herself to be entitled to lead the family, and that a husband has a right to take another wife if he wishes (as she grows more involved with their children over the years) or even to divorce her if she fails to meet his expectations. Divorce remains the real sanction, whose continued acceptance is as essential to maintaining the system as a wide gap in marriage ages.

Where divorce is a convenience to a woman’s lineage rather than a maintainer of husbandly supremacy, high divorce rates do not mean strong husbandly control. If a lineage’s older members divorce a woman from her husband by returning the bridewealth they received from him, so that they can recover her (perhaps even against her preference and her husband’s), they, rather than the husband, clearly govern the wife’s fate. High divorce rates in such a situation indicate strong gerontocratic control over both women and men, not strong husbandly authority. Certainly that has held true for many matrilineal societies in Africa south of the Sahara. Where the husband is the chief initiator of divorce, as in both Iran and Arabic-speaking Islamic Southwest Asia and North Africa, actual frequency of divorce may suggest how far that society has moved away from longstanding patterns of relatively late mar-

riage for men, early universal marriage for women, and mild polygyny. Though Iran’s new Islamic republic did let women seek divorce for serious

cause (not including polygyny) in 1983, it still maintains that pattern. Changes are unlikely to occur as long as battle casualties from the 1980-88 war with neighboring Iraq continue to promote polygyny in Iran and as long as the beliefs underlying the traditional system continue to be widely supported. Among the several Muslim schools of legal interpretation, only the school followed in Iran allows a man to contract marriage with a woman for a specified length of time stated in the contract, rather than requiring a new act to end the marriage. This emphasizes that Iranian women serve a husband at his choice,

not at theirs. | Opposition forces have existed in Iran. A 19th-century religious reform movement called for equality between women and men, and even used women as preachers; but it was declared heretical, and was largely destroyed. One of the charges against the shah in 1978-79 was that he was too willing to give high government positions to the few who remained. In the first years of the revolution, a virtual bloodbath of executions for what were termed anti-Islamic activities wiped out most of the survivors in the movement. The major early

opposition movement to the new regime also called for equal rights for women, presenting its own husband-and-wife team of leaders as an example;

but it, too, was violently attacked, and driven underground. The selfperpetuating aspects of the old system made successful resistance difficult.

260 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT The shah and his supporters learned the painful truth that governmental effort cannot guarantee societal support. In the early 20th century, both Iranians and Turks were already modifying their traditional patterns in the largest cities. Turkish villagers and townspeople followed the lead of their urban elite;

Iranian villagers and townspeople did not. Because Turks in smaller cities, towns, and villages were not as accustomed as Iranians to using divorce to maintain their traditional marriage system, legal changes disturbed them less. Divorce levels, as well as marriage ages, percentage of remarriages after divorce or widowing, fertility levels, and infant mortality rates, may suggest how much change has taken place in the similarly organized family systems of the Arabic-speaking states south of Turkey and Iran. Data gathered by Philippe Fargues give an instructive overview of divorce, widowing, remarriage, and polygyny in selected Arabic-speaking countries at about A.D. 1980, presented

in the following lists in descending order of frequency. Polygynist husbands per 100 married men (Fargues, XIII 1986): Kuwait 11.7, Morocco 6.6, Bahrain 5.4, Yemen 5.2, Egypt 3.8, Jordan 3.8, Lebanon 3.7, Syria 1.9, Algeria 1.8, Tunisia 0.5

Number of divorces per 100 marriages contracted in a year (Fargues, XIII 1986): Kuwait 29.5, Bahrain 26.8, Morocco 25.7, Yemen 25.3, Egypt 20.8, Jordan 19.8, Tu-

nisia 14.8, Lebanon 8.0, Syria 7.0 Number of women’s remarriages per 100 marriages dissolved in a year (Fargues, XIII 1988):

Yemen 81, Morocco 71, Egypt 57, Tunisia 56, Syria 44, Jordan 43 Percentage of women’s marriages dissolved by widowing before 30 years of marriage (Fargues, XIII 1988): Egypt 23.3%, Syria 18.5%, Morocco 18.4%, Tunisia 17.9%, Jordan 16.7%, Yemen 15.5%

Percentage of women’s marriages dissolved by divorce before 30 years of marriage (Fargues, XHI 1988): Yemen 24.3%, Morocco 23.5%, Egypt 13.9%, Tunisia 9.5%, Syria 6.3%, Jordan 6.1%

The monarchies of Kuwait, Morocco, and Bahrain are highest in polyaynists and in divorces per 100 marriages. That could almost be expected, since as monarchies they presumably uphold traditional patterns. Yet they are not particularly high in age gap between spouses in first marriages, at 4.8 years, 4.6 years, and 5.3 years, respectively. Even Egypt, with 5.9 years (the highest difference), is not extremely high. Lebanon matches Bahrain at 5.3 years, and Tunisia is lowest at 4.1 years (Fargues, XIII 1988). Yemen (only transformed from an isolated monarchy into a republic a few decades ago), with a spousal age gap of 4.9 years, is a close fourth in polygynists and in divorces per 100 marriages, followed by Egypt (also a monarchy until a few decades ago) and

Jordan (still a monarchy as the 1990s opened). Lebanon is next in poly-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 261 gynists, but Tunisia (lowest in polygynists) is next in divorces per 100 marriages. Syria and Algeria, both under French control for a time (like Lebanon, Tunisia, and Morocco), are more like Tunisia than like Jordan, Lebanon, or Egypt in polygynists. Syria and Lebanon show the fewest divorces per 100 marriages. In the generation before 1980, polygynous marriages in Jordan declined from 7.02% of marriages formed in 1952-54 to 6.12% of those formed in 1965-69. In Syria, 4.29% of marriages formed in 1960 were polygynous, with 0.26% as third marriages and only 0.04% (1 in 2,500) as fourth mar-

riages for the husband. The percentage of polygynist husbands in Syria expectably increased with husband’s age, passing 1% at ages 30 to 34 (1.99%), reaching 5.04% at ages 40 to 44, and climbing to 8.04% at ages 65

to 69 (Prothro and Diab, XIII 1974). With regard to women’s experience, Yemen’s women have the most divorces, the fewest widowings (only slightly fewer than most of the others), and

the most remarriages. Morocco’s women have the next most divorces and remarriages, with a middling number of widowings. Egypt’s women have the third most divorces and remarriages, and by far the most widowings, probably from Egypt’s wars with Israel in 1948, 1956, 1967, and 1973. Tunisia, seventh out of nine in divorces per 100 marriages, is fourth out of six in women

experiencing divorce, middling in widowings, and close to Egypt in remarriages. Jordan has the fewest widowed (other than Yemen), the fewest women divorced, and the fewest remarriages. Syria, almost as low in women divorced and in remarriages, is middling in widowings. In a 1980 overview of fertility patterns in Arabic-speaking countries, Iran, and Turkey, James Allman (XIII 1980) grouped Yemen with the oil countries of Iraq, Libya, Saudi Arabia, and the Gulf states of Qatar, Oman, and the small United Arab Emirates in showing no significant difference in fertility between urban and rural areas or by socioeconomic level, and in using so little contraception that no real change seemed near in traditional patterns of high fertility, high men’s marriage ages, low women’s marriage ages, relatively high polygyny for Southwest Asia, relatively high divorce, and relatively high remarriage of women after either divorce or widowing. Total fertility rates of

2.803 for Iraq in 1975, 6.867 for Libya in 1985-90, 7.175 for Oman in 1985-90, 5.637 for Qatar in 1985-90, 7.175 for Saudi Arabia in 1985-90, 4.817 for United Arab Emirates in 1985-90, and 6.97 for Yemen in 1985-90 (United Nations, III 1989) suggest that his information for Iraq was outdated and that he paid undue attention to pronatal statements by Iraq’s rulers in the 1970s. They also suggest that in the smallest Gulf states, changes came more

rapidly in the 1980s than he had expected. Allman grouped Iran with Morocco, Algeria, Jordan, Syria, Bahrain, Kuwait, and slightly more urbanized Democratic Yemen (briefly ruled by Britain) to Yemen’s south and east. (The two Yemens combined during 1990.) He believed that they showed modest differences in fertility between urban and rural

areas, and by socioeconomic level, with some use of contraception but only

262 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT limited changes in traditional family patterns. Total fertility rates of 6.047 for

Algeria in 1985-90, 4.455 for Bahrain in 1982, 5.637 for Iran in 1985-90, 7.28 for Jordan in 1985-90, 4.817 for Kuwait in 1985-90, 4.848 for Morocco in 1985-90, and 3.241 for Syria in 1982 suggest that paces of change came to differ more in the 1980s than in the 1970s, with Syria moving to low fertility as well as having little divorce and relatively little polygyny. Jordan’s Christian minority, larger than Syria’s, contributed to Jordan’s relatively low percentage of women experiencing divorce. Allman saw only Turkey, Tunisia, Egypt, and Lebanon as showing clear differences in fertility between urban and rural areas and by socioeconomic level and using contraception fairly commonly. With total fertility rates of 4.817 for Egypt in 1985-90, 3.382 for Lebanon in 1985-90, 4.1 for Tunisia in 1985—90, and 3.546 for Turkey in 1985-90, both Iraq and Syria (ruled by leaders who firmly opposed zealous Islamic reformers in their societies) had evidently gone further than any of them in using contraceptives. Egypt’s overall total fertility rate may have begun a slow decline in the 1960s and 1970s (Fargques, XIII 1986), but most of the change was in Cairo and Alexandria. There was little difference between smaller urban centers and rural areas. Still, Allman’s grouping on the basis of fertility data fits well with the placement of Tunisia, Egypt, and Lebanon in the lower half of Fargues’ listings for polygynists and divorces per 100 marriages (though Lebanon’s large Christian minority affects that), and moderately well with Eqypt’s and Tunisia’s middling locations for divorces per 100 married no more than 30 years and for remarriages per 100 divorces or widowings. Yemen, from Allman’s first group, showed birth expectancies of 46.9 for

men and 49.9 for women in 1980-85, an infant mortality rate of 15.2% in 1975 (still 11.6% for 1985-90), and a tendency for infant girls’ mortality to be slightly more than infant boys’ from the second month on (Hobcraft and others, If 1985). That also was true in Jordan in Allman’s middle group and in Egypt and Tunisia in the last group, and it persisted in all four countries into early childhood (Adlakha and Suchindran, XIII 1985). Thus Yemen clearly remained likely to resemble the monarchies of Morocco, Kuwait, and Bahrain in continuing high male and low female marriage ages, high enough polygyny to enable almost all women to marry early, high enough divorce to enforce maintenance of those patterns, and high fertility. Yemen also was so notable for lax supervision of children’s activities that child care arrangements in a new textile factory could be more welcome to a divorced mother of a child too young

to be with its father than leaving the child with her kin (Makhlouf and Obermeyer, in Allman, XIII 1978). Of the others in Allman’s first group, Saudi Arabia also had 15.2% infant mortality in 1975 (7.1% for 1985-90). Birth expectancies in 1985-90 were 61.7 for men and 65.2 for women in Saudi Arabia, 66.9 for men and 71.8 for women in Qatar, 68.6 for men and 72.9 for women in the United Arab Emirates, 63.0 for men and 64.8 for women in Iraq, 59.1 for men and 62.5 for

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 263 women in Libya, and 54.1 for men and 56.8 for women in Oman, next lowest

to Yemen. In the early 1960s, Libya had as few never-wed women as Iran (Youssef, in Beck and Keddie, XIII 1978). All the Arabian peninsula states kept to traditional patterns. The Saudi government made that clear in 1990 by reiterating its ban on women driving their own automobiles even while women soldiers in United States armed forces based in Saudi Arabia joined men soldiers in United States, European, and Arab forces in requiring Iraq to leave Kuwait in 1991 after occupying it in 1990. In 1958, Iraq overthrew the monarchy the British installed in the 1920s to try to maintain an indirect, but lasting influence. Then came coups and countercoups, followed by an inconclusive war with Iran from 1980 to 1988, occupation of Kuwait in 1990, and the devastating expulsion from Kuwait in 1991. Turmoil evidently was accompanied by change, for already in the 1970s, 3% of Iraqi women aged 45 to 49 had never married, a high percentage for Southwest Asia (Abedin, XIII 1977). Apparently, customary levels of polygyny, divorce, and remarriage did not keep every woman in the marriage system, as men died in World War II and the conflicts thereafter. The commercial, educational, and governmental institutions introduced under British in-

fluence after 1920 evidently provided some positions for women without husbands. Iraq’s low total fertility rate in 1975 and its relatively high number of never-wed older women suggested that changes there were keeping pace with Syria, or even with Turkey or Tunisia. By 1985-90, its birth expectancies

were 62.98 for men and 64.83 for women, but wartime damage to electric power facilities undoubtedly raised 1991 mortalities by interfering with the operation of clinics, hospitals, and water and sewage facilities. Of all the Arabian peninsula states, Allman saw only Kuwait, Bahrain, and Democratic Yemen as having begun to change fertility patterns at the end of the 1970s. Life expectancies in Democratic Yemen were estimated to be the same as Yemen’s in 1980-85: 46.9 for men and 49.9 for women. The others in Allman’s middle group of beginning changers were the monarchies of Morocco (which lowered fertility by 1985-90) and Jordan (which did not), Iran

(a monarchy till 1979), Syria, and Algeria. Marriage ages in Jordan, with its large pastoralist Bedouin population, showed a 5.2-year age difference (Farques, XIII 1988), probably not greatly different from the midteens for women and early 20s for men of the Negev Bedouin of 1946 (Muhsam, XIII 1966), and enough to sustain Jordan’s rather moderate levels for Southwest Asia of polygyny and divorce. Jordan’s greater infant and child mortality for girls strongly suggested little change in traditional patterns of higher marriage age for men than for women, polygyny, and divorce as a maintainer of polygyny and spousal age gap. Birth expectancy for Jordanian women was slightly shorter than for men as late as 1959-63. Like the fallen Iraqi monarchy, the Jordanian monarchy was established by Britain after World War I to seek influence in the area. It has quietly appeared to rely on maintaining familiar patterns and values as a support, inversely paralleling

264 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Islamic revolutionaries’ use of familiar values to win support against Iran's monarchy. Still, one sign of possible change appeared in a decreasing percentage of wives in the capital Amman who ever lived with their husband’s parents, as 60% of those married in the 1920s and living in Amman in the early 1970s did (Prothro and Diab, XIII 1974). Though 64% of those married in the 1930s and 61% of those married in the 1940s still did so, only 33% of those married in the 1950s and 30% of those married in the 1960s did, suggesting a real change between generations. With regard to marriage ages in the traditional monarchies of Morocco, Kuwait, and Bahrain in Allman’s middle group, Kuwaitis have adopted a delay of a few months (four in 1957, seven by 1970) between the formal marriage contract and actual co-residence (Hill, in Allman, XIII 1978). This immediately raised age at consummation, though age at contract did not begin rising visibly much before 1980. Wives of Jordanian and Palestinian Arabs working in Kuwait showed even higher fertility than Kuwaiti women in 1968-71, but wives of all non-Kuwaitis together (including Egyptian Arabs) showed lower fertility than Kuwaiti women (Kohli and Al-Omaim, XIII 1986). Moroccan statistical sources showed an increase in women’s marriage ages of more than

four years between 1960 and 1982 (Centre d’Etudes et de Recherches Demographiques, XIII 1987), as men left Morocco to work in France or elsewhere in Europe and made it harder for women to marry early. In one rural

Moroccan area where brothers still managed women’s inheritance (rather than husbands as in a town), villagers remained ready to use divorce frequently (Maher, in Medick and Sabean, III 1984). Urban Moroccan women were bearing somewhat fewer children than rural women by 1974 (Allman, in Allman, XIII 1978). By 1980, those at upper and middle socioeconomic levels were clearly bearing fewer than those at lower levels (Fargues, in Burguiere and others, III] 1986). Moroccan infant mortality rates were still 14.9% in

1975 (8.2% by 1986). Birth expectancy was 56.6 for men and 60.0 for women in 1980-85, rising to 59.05 and 62.46 by 1985-90. Kuwait showed 4.4% infant mortality in 1975, down to 1.8% by 1985, and birth expectancies of 66.4 for men and 71.5 for women in 1970, rising to 70.75 for men and 74.97 for women by 1985-90. Damage to electric power facilities, clinics, hospitals, and water and sewage systems by Iraqi occupiers as they were forced out in 1991 unquestionably raised mortalities and lowered expectancies. Bahrain showed 2.6% infant mortality for 1985-90, and 1981-86 birth expectancies of 65.9 for men and 68.9 for women. Clearly, Morocco’s averages favored rapid lowering of fertility less than those for oil-rich Kuwait and Bahrain, yet Morocco’s total fertility rate was almost the same as Kuwait’s by 1985-90. In Syria, the French hoped to establish influence by setting up a republic after World War I, only to see it replaced by a succession of increasingly antiFrench revolutionary regimes in the 1950s and 1960s. In the past, more Syrian girls than boys died in the first year (Singh, in Cleland and Scott, II] 1987),

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 265 but that changed by the late 1970s as birth expectancies rose to 63.77 for men and 64.7 for women. Because the cost per child of raising children declined in a Syrian village after the fourth or fifth birth (Al Achkar and Sly, XIII 1987), it would be understandable if fertility remained high even while polygyny and divorce became low. Yet by 1982, Syria’s fertility was lower than in Lebanon and Turkey in 1985-90. Moreover, in Damascus, the percentage of wives who had ever lived with their husband’s parents in the early 1970s declined from 90% for those married before the 1930s to 73% for those wed in the 1930s, 54%

for those wed in the 1940s, 58% for those wed in the turbulent 1950s, and 41% for those wed in the 1960s (Prothro and Diab, XIII 1974). That was an even greater drop than in Amman, if the initially much higher level is considered. It may be a corollary to Syria’s low levels of both polygyny and divorce. In the late 1970s, with 86% of women aged 40 to 49 still in their first marriage, Syria’s women were tied with the women of the strongly Roman Catholic Philippines for the highest percentage among women in World Fertility

Survey countries who were still in their first marriage at that age. Algeria was invaded by France in 1830, but not fully subjected until after 1870. The best agricultural lands were taken over by French colonists, who resisted giving Algerians any voice in government. Those colonists’ descendants left as soon as the 1954-63 Algerian revolution forced Paris to acknowledge Algeria’s freedom. The mean age of marriage for women after independence

settled at over 18 and for men at almost 23, with a mean difference of 4.4 years (Fargues, XII] 1988), too little to support previous levels of polygyny. In 1886, there had been 114.8 wives per 100 husbands (Fargues, XIII 1987). For

the next seven decades that declined, reaching 106.4 by 1911 and 102 in 1954, the year the revolution began. It remained near that level thereafter. In the last period for which divorce statistics were published, 1960-64, there

were 6.1 divorces per 100 marriages, even fewer than in Syria in the late 1970s. Divorces per 100 marriages had come down from 38.1 in 1905-09 to

28.9 in 1930-34, 21.5 in 1945-49, and 12.5 in 1955-59 (Fargues, XIII 1986), suggesting a correlation between polygyny level and divorce level where divorce is customarily used to maintain acceptance of polygyny. In 1982, birth expectancies were 58.51 for men and 61.38 for women, and infant mortalities were 8.98% for boys and 8.285% for girls. Algerian family pat-

terns clearly had changed during and after French rule, but more modestly than in Turkey, Tunisia, Egypt, or Lebanon, in at least some ways. All three of the Arabic-speaking countries in Allman’s quartet of fertility reducers reached birth expectancies near or past 60 for both sexes by at least 1980-85. All except Egypt further significantly reduced their fertility by 1985 (Clarke, XIII 1985). Infant mortality rates in Egypt were still 13.2% for boys and 13.4% for girls, yet much less than the 22.3% for boys and 20.1% for girls

in 1927-37 (Fargues, XIII 1986). Only after 1970 did infant girls’ deaths slightly surpass boys’ (Hammoud, in World Health Organization, II] 1977), but they continued to do so thereafter. Egypt’s 1976 combined level of 13.3%

266 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT was as high as Tunisia’s in 1955-59. By 1975-78, loss was down to 7.8% for both sexes together in Tunisia, and by 1982, it was down to 7.1% for both sexes in Egypt. Britain established a monarchy in Egypt after World War I, as it did in Iraq and Jordan, but it lost its influence after a revolution overthrew the monarchy in 1952 and established a republic. Some changes in marriage patterns took place from 1935 to 1977, with 67.6% of brides in 1935 marrying for the first time rather than remarrying, but 84.6% of brides in 1977 marrying for the first time. The 24.4% divorcees and 7.9% widows among 1935 brides fell to 13.4% divorcees and 2.1% widows in 1977 (Fargues, XII] 1987). That was in line with 10.2% of marriages contracted in 1931-34 being polygynous, but

just 6.4% in 1975-78, shortly before the president who succeeded the founder of the republic sought a new marriage law that would let a wife seek divorce if she did not want to see her husband take another wife. Dislike for that president’s signing a peace treaty with Israel, the first Arab leader to do so, was the reason usually given for his assassination by Islamic zealots in 1981. Yet as in Iran, so in Egypt, attacks on accepted marriage patterns could be used to inflame passions in terms understandable and personally meaningful to ordinary citizens. Egypt showed more difference in ages at marriage than Jordan, the same percentage of polygynist husbands, and slightly more divorces per 100 marriages. It also showed more divorced women per 1,000

divorced men in 1976 than ever before recorded: 3,130, compared with 1,684 in 1966 and 2,207 in 1917 (Fargues, XIII 1987). As higher early mortality for girls than for boys suggested, Egypt resembled Iran more than did most other Arab countries except Morocco and the states of the Arabian peninsula. Its people retained a family pattern that upheld polygyny through divorce even more than in Iran, having less spousal age gap. Egypt’s example supports Fargues’ suggestion (XIII 1987) that divorce was even more important than polygyny in enabling all women to marry early in North Africa and Southwest Asia. Abolishing monarchy might remove large female entourages for the powerful as part of the overall family and reproduction system of countries like Egypt, but other aspects of that system were apt to change less rapidly. Egypt’s high divorce rate also suggests that strains from overpopulation and crowding were exacting an increasing toll from married life, as more and more women found themselves divorced. France influenced Lebanon’s affairs from the 1830s onward. After World War I, the French set up a separate republic from that in Syria, hoping to retain influence through Lebanon’s Christian majority. Christians became a mi-

nority, however, as their birth rates declined more rapidly than those of Muslims after 1920. Marriage ages were not high for either men or women in Lebanon by the time the last French troops left in 1946. Yet that was a real change, at least for Muslims. As recently as the 1920s, marriage contracts in one Muslim community showed first marriage ages of 31.6 for men and 14.3 for women (Prothro and Diab, XIII 1974). The convergence of marriage ages

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 267 undoubtedly contributed to Lebanon’s relatively low divorce and polygyny rates in the late 1970s, though Lebanon’s Christians (probably about 40% of the population) do not use polygyny, and the many Roman Catholics among them do not use divorce. In the general upheavals that followed Israeli expulsion of Jordanian forces from the west bank of the Jordan River in 1967, dismayed Palestinian refugees in Jordan were crowded by a nervous monarch toward Palestinians already living in Lebanon. Life throughout Lebanon was then disrupted, as members of the Muslim majority took to arms after 1975 to try to alter the governmental system that the French established to enable Christians to keep control. That meant family ties continued to be uppermost in many people’s minds, as their one hope for some future security. Those who married in the 1930s already saw only 31% ever having lived with the husband’s parents in Beirut by the early 1970s, to 67% having done so if they

married before the 1930s (Prothro and Diab, XIII 1974). Yet in the late 1960s, 31.3% of all marriages in a sample survey in Beirut were still between kin, though one in three of those could not trace the actual links. Moreover, 11.1% of those in first-cousin marriages were living in three-generation house-

holds including father and married sons, to 3.3% in other kin marriages but also 4% in nonkin marriages (Khuri, XIII 1970). In union there was still strength. Continuing political disruption only reinforced that belief, whether for Muslims, for Christians, or for members of the other small religious groups in Lebanon; nor did it fade when the last warring communal militias gave up in 1991. In numbers, there was expected strength as well, it would seem. Lebanese, therefore, worked at lowering infant and child mortality. Even rural loss in the first five years of life fell below 5% by the early 1970s (Prothro and Diab, XIII 1974). Rates had been that low in Beirut since the 1930s, as its Christian and Muslim inhabitants adopted with enthusiasm the public health practices introduced by the French. Muslims continued to show 47% to 83% higher fertility than Christians in 1971, depending on locality, a difference

that continued through the turmoil of subsequent years (Fargues, in Burguiere and others, III 1986). Tunisia was supervised by France as the nominal protector of its governor

from 1881 to 1956. No comparable bloodletting followed France’s withdrawal there. The republic that promptly took control sought to modernize the country as rapidly and quietly as possible, using its own small but sufficient oil resources. An average delay of 15 months in co-residence came to be ex-

perienced by 57.3% of Tunisian women (Jemai and Singh, in Cleland and Scott, III 1987), raising effective age at marriage for them. This fits with Tunisia’s having less spousal age difference at first marriage than most of North Africa and Southwest Asia, and with its extremely low level of polygyny.

By the early 1960s, 2.6% of Tunisian women aged 45 to 49 had never married, more than in any other Arab country then except war-damaged and

coup-ridden Syria at 2.6% and Iraq at 3.0% (Abedin, XIII 1977). Selfsupporting women were beginning to be accepted members of society. Fertil-

268 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ity remained far higher than in Europe, as Tunisia’s population rose from 1.5 million in 1881 to 3.2 million in 1946 and 7.3 million in 1985 (Fargues, XIII

1986). Meanwhile Egypt’s population almost tripled from 15.9 million in 1937 to 46.8 million in 1985, multiplying more than six times from probably 7.6 million in 1882. Despite slightly higher early life mortality for girls than for

boys, Tunisia was probably the closest to Turkey among Arabic-speaking states other than Lebanon in the degree to which it had moved away from high

marriage age for men, low marriage age for women, and acceptance of polygyny maintained by frequent divorce. Still, divorce was more common than in slightly more polygynous Syria. The Jewish citizens of Israel follow marriage and fertility patterns more like

those of the countries of Europe from which most of Israel’s initial Jewish founders came before 1948 than like those of Israel’s Arab neighbors. Israel's Jewish citizens marry in the mid-20s for both sexes and show strict monogamy, a rising, but still moderate divorce level, and enough fertility control to make number of births per woman near three rather than most Arabs’ four to eight (Ben-Porath, in Schultz, III 1975). That has remained true despite an influx of Jews from Arab countries in the 1950s, which raised overall fertility rates and slightly lowered marriage ages. Total fertility rate in 1985 was 3.098. Both the few Christian and Muslim Arabs who remained in Israel in 1948 and those brought under Israeli control by the 1967 war with Jordan, Egypt, and Syria would have higher fertility and slightly earlier marriage for both sexes

than Israeli Jews, if pre-1967 studies are indicative. Those studies already showed lower men’s marriage ages and higher women’s marriage ages than in the 1920s (Prothro and Diab, XIII 1974). They also suggested continuing de-

clines in both polygyny and divorce from the 1920s onward. By the 1980s, polygyny and divorce among Palestinian Arabs may have reached levels not far from those of neighboring Lebanon. Polygyny in even the most polygynous Southwest Asian or North African state has remained well below levels in every part of Africa south of the Sahara

except the extreme south, as shown in the following lists based on Ron Lesthaeghe’s survey of African societies (in Coleman and Schofield, III 1986). [slam is not what promotes polygyny, even though it accepts up to four wives. Still, this limited acceptance of polygyny gives Muslims a real advantage over

Christians in appealing to potential converts from indigenous religions throughout Africa south of the Sahara, much as it probably gave early Muslims an advantage over Christianity in Southwest Asia and North Africa, where polygyny had been part of the family and reproductive system long before Muhammad's time. West and Central Interior (Sahel), based on populations in Senegal, north Ghana, and north Cameroon, surveyed in the 1970s: 72% of women wed by ages 15 to 19 45% of women in polygynous marriages

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 269 15 months’ mean nonsusceptibility to conception after giving birth 6.9 total fertility rate 16% of women married ten or more years with zero, one, or two live births (Having not more than two live births in ten or more years of marriage is taken to suggest secondary sterility, or having become unable to have more children) West and Central Coast, based on populations in central and coastal Ghana, Togo, Nigeria, central and coastal Cameroon, and Zaire, surveyed in the 1970s: 34% of women wed by ages 15 to 19 31% of women in polygynous marriages 15 months’ mean nonsusceptibility to conception after giving birth 6.6 total fertility rate 13% of women married ten or more years with zero, one, or two live births Central Sterility Band, based on populations in east Cameroon, Gabon, Equatorial Guinea, northwest Zaire, south Chad, Central African Republic, and southwest Sudan, surveyed in the 1950s: Early marriage for women High polygyny Brief period of nonsusceptibility to conception after giving birth Under 5.0 total fertility rate 25% to 50% of women married ten or more years with zero live births Eastern Interior (Sahel), based on populations in Sudan and Somalia, surveyed in the 1970s:

Under 25% to not over 30% of women wed by ages 15 to 19 About 30% of women in polygynous marriages Under 12 months’ mean nonsusceptibility to conception after giving birth About 5.8 total fertility rate 16% of women married ten or more years with zero, one, or two live births East, based on populations in Rwanda, Burundi, Kenya, and Tanzania, surveyed in the 1970s:

10% to 60% (mean 39%) of women wed by ages 15 to 19 25% of women in polygynous marriages 11 months’ mean nonsusceptibility to conception after giving birth 6.6 total fertility rate 19% of women married ten or more years with zero, one, or two live births Southern Labor Exporters, based on populations in Botswana, Lesotho, and Swaziland, surveyed in the 1970s: Under 37% of women wed by ages 15 to 19 Under 10% of women in polygynous marriages 17 months’ mean nonsusceptibility to conception after giving birth About 6.0 total fertility rate Not over 20% of women married ten or more years with zero, one, or two live births

In the countries of west Africa that border the Sahara (Mauritania, Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger) and also in the interiors of Senegal, Guinea, Ivory Coast, Ghana, Togo, Benin, Nigeria, and Cameroon, polygyny is more prevalent than in any other part of the continent. If as many as 45% of all wives are

270 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT in polygynous marriages, then probably more than 20% of husbands are polygynists and more than 20% of all marriages contracted are polygynous, almost twice as many as in Kuwait. The region still shows the highest male marriage ages, the lowest female marriage ages, the greatest polygyny, and relatively long lactation and abstinence (Lesthaeghe and others, XXIX 1986). Lactation is not needed nutritionally because animal protein is widely available, but abstinence reinforced by lactation strengthens gerontocratic control. Burkina Faso and Niger are among Africa’s poorest countries. Yet by the end of the 1980s, successive military rulers managed to lift them out of the 25 countries with the world’s lowest life expectancies. Mali and Mauritania were still in that group, along with Yemen, Laos, Bhutan, Afghanistan, Nepal, and 18 other countries in Africa south of the Sahara. Forces that can lower birth rates have barely taken root in any of them. Means to provide for the future, other than having children, scarcely exist. Though traditional constraints still favor long lactation, long abstinence, and long birth intervals, births tend to increase as these constraints loosen. Yet even this is a change, which can lead to-

ward greater willingness to make one’s choices for oneself.

Change in Africa has been slow in other ways too. Continuing high polygyny means that an alternative pattern of companionate marriage between spouses of almost the same age (as developed several centuries ago in western Europe) is hardly available as an alternative form of psychological support to having many children. Men’s and women’s tasks are still defined as separate, though complementary. Few women have entered the same areas of work as men, to facilitate changes in attitude for both women and men that could modify the belief that to be a woman requires motherhood. Educational expectations for children are still slight enough to keep down the cost of rearing them, usually to a level low enough for their work to repay before they reach maturity. Fostering is readily available, if some relief is wanted for a time from child-rearing responsibilities. Moreover, child-rearing is still compatible with most women’s usual activities, rather than seeming to compete with either work or recreation. Given all these factors, it is not surprising that as late as 1970, marriage ages in Mauritania remained at 15 for women and 26 for men, or that Mauritanian women in the 1980s would expect to bear as many children as in the 1950s (Fargues, in Burguiere and others, III 1986). French rule sat lightly on Mauritania. France only claimed the region to keep out others, in the 19thcentury scramble for African colonies, for it had no wanted resources. High polygyny levels continued, supported by high divorce levels, relatively moderate widowhood levels, and high remarriage levels. Fully 19.3% of women mar-

ried 30 years or less had been widowed and a stunning 45.3% had been divorced. There were 83 remarriages for every 100 dissolutions (Fargues, XIII 1986). Drought that dried up waterholes forced about half of Mauritania’s nomads to try sedentary life in 1965-77 (Traore, in Hill, XXLX 1985). They illus-

trate pastoralists’ general tendency in Africa south of the Sahara to move

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT | 271 between their preferred pastoralism and crop-raising near the water sources, as circumstances appear to make advisable. They would rather change their mode of life than alter marriage ages or fertility patterns. In that way, they offer an instructive counterpart to eastern Iranian peasants who for centuries have turned to pastoralism or mining when their wells do not suffice, yet return to cultivation when they can (Spooner, in Spooner, III 1972). Mali and Niger have more language groups and variety of habitats than Mauritania. Their borders include the great bend of the Niger River as well as desert regions north of it. Thus they resemble Burkina Faso, which includes both grasslands and the upper basin of the Volta River it shares with Ghana and Ivory Coast. The French, who ruled Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso from the 1890s to 1960, wanted cash crops in them all, as well as roads for both commerce and control. Resulting labor demands led to population declines in

all three until the 1920s, even though French refusal to accept traditional pastoralist rights over agriculturalists gave the latter some relief. Like the coming together of armies in the Thirty Years War of 1618-48 in Europe, the coming together of men from many areas to build roads sparked and spread epidemics not just in French territories, but in all colonial territories. That was true whether the labor was required or nominally voluntary, though in effect required because at first, it was almost the only way local people could obtain money for monetary taxes, imposed by every colonial government. Colonial rulers wanted money to pay their bills, but they also wanted to make local people enter the market economy by making them need money (not goods) to pay a head or household tax. That was new for local people,

most of whom were used to exchanging goods, not to selling goods for money. Mali illustrates well the suggestion that pastoralists want fewer children than cultivators because children are less useful to them for chores (Meir, III 1986). Mali is the home of delta and southeast Tamasheq pastoralists with their sub-

ordinates, delta and southeast Fulbe (Fulani) and associated Rimaibe cultiva-

tors, and Bambara cultivators in the western center. A 1981-82 study of women aged 45 to 49 showed Bambara having borne 7.56 children (8.4 if still in their first marriage)—noticeably more than 7.14 (7.9 if in first marriage)

for southeast Fulani or 6.42 (6.6 if in first marriage) for delta Fulani, even though both Fulani surveys included the cultivating Rimaibe, and greatly more than 5.28 (6.2 if in first marriage) for southeast Tamasheq nobles and 5.2 (5.0 if in first marriage, perhaps from marrying late enough not to have divorced)

for delta Tamasheq nobles. Those Bambara women had lost 3.28 (43.4% of 7.56, leaving 4.28), however, to 2.75 (38.5% of 7.14, leaving 4.39) for southeast Fulani and Rimaibe, 3.31 (51.5% of 6.42, leaving 3.11) for delta Fulani and Rimaibe, 2.20 (41.7% of 5.28, leaving 3.08) for southeast Tamasheq nobles, and 2.02 (38.8% of 5.2, leaving 3.18) for delta Tamasheq nobles. With early and midlife mortality still high and life expectancies low, especially in the

southeast, fewer than 28% of women married at age 18 to men of 26 in the

272 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT delta could still be in that marriage at age 50. Many women aged 45 to 49 would, therefore, not have been in their first marriage, even if they had not been divorced (Hill, in Hill, XXIX 1985). Bambara, and both Fulbe and Rimaibe, married their women before age 20. All Fulani men wed at about 25 in the southeast, but a little over 29 in the delta, compared with Bambara men marrying mainly in their 20s but a few in their 30s. The Tamasheq saw some women marry after 30, some men after 40, and a few women as well as men never marry (Randall and Winter, in Hill, XXIX 1985). In concern for status, some southeast Tamasheq practiced up to 95% traceable kin marriage. Because Tamasheq women had cattle in their own right, as well as slaves, they

did not need husbands or children for support. Tamasheq experience clearly shows how pressures for both marriage and giving birth can be lessened by the availability of personal slaves, not just groups of people with certain tasks to carry out for the whole community, as in the caste groups of India. As in ancient Greece or Rome, masters could look

to slaves rather than offspring for needed work, and could largely control slaves’ procreative lives. Witness al-Ghazzali on the legitimacy of using contra-

ception to keep a bondwoman able to work. Burkina Faso is the home of the Mossi, whose polygyny patterns have been looked at, and the location of the subdistrict mentioned earlier from which a third to a half of adult men were taken for forced labor in the early colonial period. It also has an outlier of the sterility belt among the Bwa people. The Bwa sterility cycle probably began in the 19th century, when local rulers in the grasslands region were seizing and exchanging slaves. They wanted to forestall European occupation, much like local rulers in the rubber-forest region of the main sterility belt. More than 27% of Bwa women who were old enough to have been married for at least ten years in the 1960s (after independence}, and who appeared to be free of either parasitic or venereal disease, had never borne a live infant. High levels of polygyny, divorce, and remarriage customary in the region probably contributed to that result (Lunganga, in Cairo Demographic Centre, III 1983).

In Niger as well as Mali, Fulani women and men married earlier than Tamasheq/Tuareg nobility. Among Niger Tuareg women, 49% were blood kin

to their husbands (43% first cousins), and 63% (45% first cousins) among Niger Fulani women (Ganon, in Caldwell, XXIX 1975). That suggests not only concern to reunite herds or other inheritance, but also conscious effort to enable women to live with women of their own lineage and men to live with men of their own lineage (Ottenheimer, III 1984). The most common ages at marriage were 20 for Fulani women, 30 for both Fulani men and Tuareg women, and 40 for Tuareg men. Among women aged 40 to 49, Fulani averaged 5.8 and Tuareg only 4.3 births, partly because of marriage ages, partly because of moderately high sterility levels. Among Fulani women, 15% had had no live births by age 50, to 21% among Tuareg women (Hill, in Hill, XXIX 1985). With an all-Niger marriage age average of around 15 for women and 23 for

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT , 273 men in the 1960s, and with 125 wives per 100 husbands then (van de Walle, in Brass and others, XXIX 1968), both men and women had fairly high levels of polygynous experience. In a Hausa produce-marketing village in independent Niger, 28.8% of husbands were polygynists. A wife-inheritance system may have facilitated an av-

erage of 1.3 wives per man and an unusually early first marriage of 17 for men, eager for wives to raise salable produce. In another village, whose women were known for fine pottery, 17% of husbands were polygynists, but men averaged age 20 at first marriage and there were only 1.06 wives per man. Outside women were brought in as wives far less often than in the produce-marketing village. Prosperity may have made the latter more attractive; or women in the former may have guarded their secrets of pottery-making by resisting outsiders. In the tanners’ quarter of a large Niger town, only 10% of husbands were polygynists, with 1.07 wives per man and a noticeably later marriage age of over 25 for men. The later marriage age is more understandable when household structure is considered. The mean size of functioning households in all three communities was 7.8. Functioning households may include more than one residence, where residences are adjacent, but unjoined, as in these communities; but their members see themselves as a single household, rather than as several cooperating ones. Functioning households averaged 2.8 more than the mean conjugal unit (spouses and unwed children) of 5.0. In the earliest-marrying, produce-marketing village, 49% of households held three generations and another 7% included two or more married broth-

ers, enabling most young men to expect their own large household to help them marry early. The potters’ village had 33% three-generation households, 15% including two or more married brothers, and 13% with parents and at least one married, but still childless offspring, again enabling most young men to count on family aid in marrying early. Only 19% of households in the tanners’ quarter held three generations, and only 5% included parents and married, but still childless offspring (Arnould, in Netting and others, III 1984). The 7.8 average for those Niger households is well within a range of 6.4 to 11.9 found in interior west Africa in the 1940s and 1950s (Goody, in Laslett, If] 1972). Large households facilitated both work and defense, when slaveraiding was carried on by local groups wanting workers, Arabs or their agents, and agents for the Atlantic trade. In west Africa in general, before a moneybased economy was introduced, dire poverty only came to families that were

already small and then lost more members. The formal ending of slavery in the 20th century may have increased fertility by freeing previously restricted men to seek wives (Swindell, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1981). Yet only after independence in 1960 did Mali try to recognize cultivators as tilling their own land, rather than as permanent tenants to their precolonial overlords (Cisse, in Hill, XXIX 1985). Most colonial governments disturbed local arrangements as little as possible, even when formally abolish-

ing slavery. Cash crops and opportunity to earn monetary wages either at

274 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT home or elsewhere gave formerly restricted cultivator men funds to acquire wives. Many Mossi men still go to Ivory Coast for seasonal work, following

their fathers and grandfathers in working on cocoa and other plantations

there.

A young woman who became the first and perhaps only wife to a younger man among ordinary cultivators was apt to bear more infants than one who first became a second or later wife to an older man. The older man’s young wife was apt to be widowed and to remarry (even in widow inheritance) only after delay. In this Islamic area, at least after early-19th-century reform movements, most men and women used the Islamically prescribed waiting period to ascertain pregnancy before widows or divorcees could rewed. Given colonial rulers’ labor demands, a wife in the colonial era might well want more children than her forebears. With first her husband and then her older sons often away for forced labor service or seasonal wage labor, additional children could help with household and field work (Cordell and others, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987). Colonial rulers’ labor demands, and continuing movements of Mossi and other men from the interior to plantations near the coast for as long as several seasons, altered current ratios of men to women, and therefore marriage ages, in both receiving and sending regions. Marriage ages were raised for women and lowered for men if ratios became lower than 90 men per 100 women; they were lowered for women and raised for men if ratios became greater than 110 men per 100 women. Only if men were earning to obtain bridewealth for marriages already contracted, as often was true among the

Mossi, were marriage ages and frequencies affected little at either end (Lesthaeghe and others, XXIX 1986). Western and central coastal regions from Senegal to Cameroon, like western and central interior regions, display fairly high marriage ages for men. Women marry a bit less early than in the interior, with somewhat less but still frequent polygyny and high levels of divorce, widowing, and remarrying. Women’s longstanding activity in local trade is an important factor in their slightly higher marriage age (Lesthaeghe and others, XXIX 1986). In the interior, Islamic reformers have striven for centuries to limit women’s trading. In-

tensive slave-taking in the 18th and 19th centuries gave added point to reformers’ call to keep women safely at home. However, women manage most

of the short-distance trade and some long-distance trade in coastal areas, in both matrilineal and patrilineal societies. West coastal women found new opportunities in the shift from Saharan to Atlantic trade routes for forest products going to the Mediterranean world and beyond. They made good use of them, building puberty initiation societies to parallel those of men. By defining when a young woman was ready to marry, those societies deferred marriage long enough to be sure her reproductive system was mature. Even in recent times, far fewer women have married in the early teens along the western coast than in the western interior. This may help to explain western coastal

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 275 women’s lower sterility rate in a region with fully as much spouse circulation as the western interior. Large households have been wanted in coastal areas too, particularly where

goods were being produced for market. Still, the range in the 1940s and 1950s for the cocoa region was 4.41 to 9.8, not the 6.4 to 11.9 of the interior (Goody, in Laslett, III 1972). Even though coastal peoples also suffered slaveraiding at times, they more often sold slaves obtained by trade or raiding from farther inland. They were, therefore, less likely than interior peoples to develop unusually large households for defense or to assign unfree or semifree status by birth. Yet they had clear status gradations based on both wealth and

birth (or what might be called social rebirth, acceptance into a new level through an oath-taking blood brotherhood or a ruler’s action). Lactation and abstinence were as long as in the interior, being needed for infant survival because of a protein-poor diet. In the interior, lactation and abstinence main-

tained gerontocracy at least as much as they aided survival among both pastoralists and the agricultural dependents to whom they furnished dairy products, as “gifts” in return for obligatory crop deliveries. Nearer the coast, infant survival was a much more crucial consideration. Sterility was lower in the coastal regions than in the interior. There was none of the frantic exchanging of women slaves by power-seeking rulers that drove up sterility rates in parts of the western interior as well as throughout the central interior after the mid-19th century. Along the coast, power could be sought by expanding direct trade with Europeans until the precolonial era ended. Less disruption of ordinary family life took place, therefore, than in the forest (which saw slave raids) or the interior grasslands.

The French took over much of the coastal region from Senegal to Cameroon, building on trading settlements established in the 17th century on the lower Senegal River. In 1958, Guinea became independent, followed in

1960 by Senegal, Ivory Coast, Togo, Benin (then called Dahomey), and Cameroon. The British took over much of the remainder, also building on trading settlements founded in the 17th century. In 1957, Ghana became independent, followed by Nigeria in 1960, Sierra Leone in 1961, and Gambia in 1965. Guinea-Bissau, held by Portugal since the late 15th century, proclaimed its independence in 1973 and was recognized by Portugal in 1974. Liberia was founded in the 1820s by free United States residents of African ancestry. They

organized a government in 1830 and separated from the United States in 1847. The French eventually provided university education to a select few through scholarships to Paris. The British and the Liberians established colleges in Africa. The Portuguese gave their African subjects far less opportunity to study in Lisbon than the French offered theirs in Paris. Neither French, British, Liberians, nor Portuguese aimed for universal literacy before the 1960s, along the coasts or in the interior held by France. No colonial ruler thought self-government by universal suffrage a foreseeable possibility before the 1950s, and Portugal did not consider it then. Even Liberians took many years

276 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT to expand electoral procedures to include interior villagers. All statistics must be seen against this background of the impact of centuries of European pres-

ence and decades of European rule. In 1971-72, 27% of Senegal husbands were polygynists, with 47% of Senegal women surveyed in 1970 currently in polygynous marriages (Aryee,

in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978). The second figure rose to 52% in the

1976 census (Lesthaeghe and others, XXIX 1986). Moreover, 67% of Senegal wives aged 40 to 49 in 1978 currently were in polygynous marriages (McDonald, in Cleland and Hobcraft, II] 1985), which suggests that being ina household with two or more wives was common for a man in Senegal. In the

capital Dakar, 51.8% of women aged 15 to 54 who had ever married in 1971-72 had been in entirely monogamous marriages (Ferry, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978), suggesting slightly less polygyny in the city than in rural areas. The suggestion is supported by a mean female marriage age of 17.5 in Dakar in the late 1960s, compared with 16.4 for all Senegal in the late 1970s. Such an urban-rural difference is compatible with mean marriage ages of 15 for women and 26 for men among the Bande Peul or Fulani in the southern interior (Lesthaeghe and others, XXIX 1986). Mean marriage ages were 16.2 for women and 27.2 for men in 1968 in the northern interior region of Fouta Toro, with 126 wives per 100 husbands (van de Walle, in Brass and others, XXIX 1968). Both polygyny and spousal age gaps probably were increased by

wartime losses of men. The French actively recruited Senegalese for their armed forces in World Wars | and Il. The average of more than six births per completed marriage throughout the 1960s and 1970s was influenced by both early marriage for women and high infant mortality. Infant mortality was still 7% even in Dakar in 1969-73 (Vimard, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1981). Only half

of those born in all of Senegal reached age 10 in 1963-71, and still only 63.2% in 1972-81 (United Nations, III 1986 #94). High fertility also contin-

ued, with no support for instruction in how to limit it until the 1970s (Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1984). Only then did disastrous droughts force recognition that overpopulation threatened the future of all Senegalese, for overcropping and overgrazing were eroding Senegal’s agricultural resources. The Serer people of west central Senegal illustrate possible results of successive colonial policies. From A.D. 1300 to 1900, no man could marry until he had land to cultivate, and numbers grew slowly enough for Serer to continue to feed themselves by intensifying cultivation methods. Between 1900 and 1923, when the French introduced labor-intensive groundnuts as a cash crop, wage labor that enabled men to marry without land eroded traditional restraints on marriage. Serer numbers soared, only to see mechanization after 1945 force many to flee to Dakar and other cities for lack of work at home (Herzog, XXIX 1975).

In neighboring Gambia, the 19th-century Wuli kingdom exported some slaves and used others to cultivate export crops. In the 1830s, a third of all fields were in export crops. After slave exports ended, this increased to nearly

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 277 half the fields. When British takeover ended slavery within Gambia, wives, sisters, and daughters became the major field workers. Wives were expected to bear as many new workers as possible. Landholders wanted women workers

so much that widows were remarried to their husbands’ kinsmen within six weeks. By the early 20th century, households (led by the eldest man) averaged 22 members; but household size began to go down as independence approached and new opportunities elsewhere attracted family members. By 1976, 70% of households were under ten in size. Here, too, both work life and family life clearly were affected by European presence, takeover, and departure (Weil, in Handwerker, II 1986). In Guinea, south of Senegal and Gambia, many slaves sought freedom by fleeing their masters at the time of conquest (Cordell and others, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987). Nonetheless, in 1904, the French still counted 35% of the population as slaves. In the 1960s after independence, Guinea showed 158 wives per 100 husbands, and in 1971-72, about 38% of husbands were polygynists (Aryee, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978), thanks to almost 11 years difference in singulate mean first marriage age for women and men (van de Walle, in Brass and others, XXIX 1968). Divorce and widowing kept total births per woman under six, even though infant mortality was 21.6% as recently as 1954-55. Among women over 50, those who had been in five or more marriages had borne scarcely more than four, on average, while even those with only one marriage had averaged not quite six. Under Portugal's impact, neighboring Guinea-Bissau scarcely differed from Guinea in polygyny, with 150 wives per 100 husbands (van de Walle, in Brass and oth-

ers, XXIX 1968). Yet marriage ages were about three years higher than in Guinea for women (but still under 20) and about one year higher for men. In Sierra Leone, home of both Mende and Temne peoples, Temne sterility

at about 11% to 12% in 1963 and 1976 (Dorjahn, in Handwerker, II 1986) was somewhat higher than about 6% in Guinea in 1954—55 (Cantrelle and Ferry, in Leridon and Menken, III 1977). Polygyny levels (more than 150 wives per 100 husbands in 1963 and 1976 among rural Temne) were about the same as in Guinea or Guinea-Bissau, but were declining among urban Temne (145 in 1963, 133 in 1976). Births per woman varied considerably among Sierra Leone’s major population groups. Rural Temne women aged 40 to 49 averaged 8.4 (5.8 for urban Temne women), to 6.4 for rural Mende women (5.2 for urban Mende women). Births were fewest, at 4.8, for both rural and urban Creole women. Creoles’ ancestors were freed slaves brought to Freetown in the 19th century by the British, from their colonies and from intercepted slaving ships. Creole women were more apt to be literate than Temne or Mende women (Adeokun, in Oppong, XXIX 1987). Rural grandmothers could earn income by fostering urban-born children in the healthier rural environment. That, and the fact that fostering legitimates an end to abstinence, can explain why half of all those born to Mende women aged 15 to 19 were being fostered in the late 1970s. Infant mortality was still 20.1% for rural

278 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Temne in 1963, partly from risks in giving birth in the customary way in a clearing or a garden, partly from customary daily bathing in cold water, partly because an older sibling assigned as caretaker might not watch with care (an excellent reason for fostering to a mature woman), and partly from risks at weaning, when diarrhea was common. Potential risk from circumcision or clitoridectomy normally did not arise until after a child reached age 10. High infant mortality helped to keep Temne births high, as women sought enough children to ensure survival of more than one or two into the mother’s old age (Dorjahn, XXIX 1976). They had reason for concern. Only 47.3% of live infants born to all women aged 16 to 40 in five eastern Sierra Leone villages were still alive in 1977 (Kruger, XXIX 1984). The hope of having more than one or two survive to help an aging mother was strongly expressed in neighboring Liberia (Handwerker, in Handwerker, II 1986). Rural infant mortality in Liberia in 1970 was 15.8%, to 8.2% in urban areas (Dorjahn, XXIX 1976). It was still estimated at 8.7% for the entire coun-

try for 1985-90. For urban infant mortality to be less than rural was rather new. As late as 1938, infant mortality in Freetown was 28.2%, and as late as 1960, villages near Sierra Leone cities saw 23.1% infant mortality compared with 20.1% among rural Temne in 1963. Urban Temne showed lower infant mortality than rural Temne in 1963 only because villages did not yet have the sanitary facilities available by then in urban areas. Until at least 1950, urban areas were riskier than rural regions throughout Africa south of the Sahara. Though Liberia was established by people freed from slavery, indigenous peoples there were only marginally better off in the early 20th century than those ruled by Europeans. To raise money, Liberia’s government granted farreaching concessions to United States companies early in the 20th century to grow rubber and other tropical products. These concessions disrupted local family life almost as much as forced labor and recruitment for wage labor in European colonies. Liberian officials guaranteed the companies the workers they wanted, recruiting from interior villages by what amounted to a conscription quota system. Belgians had introduced a similar system a few years earlier in today’s Zaire to ensure their companies labor for plantations and mines. Liberia showed high polygyny, for Christian descendants of 19th-century settlers and the few Christian Lebanese businesspeople (found in Liberia as well as in coastal areas influenced by France) were a small minority. The age difference at first marriage that facilitated polygyny in Liberia was about nine years. First marriage for women might come as late as 32 or as early as 9, but mean first marriage age was 16.97, with a normal range of 16.71 to 20.03. Men might not marry until as late as 51, but 26 was their mean first marriage age, with a normal range of 18.27 to 33.73 (Handwerker, in Handwerker, II 1986). These figures represent ranges in polygynous societies fairly well. They are useful in looking at any mean marriage age, for in monogamous and polyandrous societies, too, women normally marry within a much more limited age range than men.

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 279 In Ivory Coast, which shares the Kru ethnic group with Liberia, the capital Abidjan had 15 polygynists per 100 husbands in 1971-72 (Aryee, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978). This probably illustrated a growing tendency for urban men to acknowledge only one wife, more than it meant any great difference from polygyny rates in Liberia. By 1990, many urban men throughout Africa were minimizing the number of children for whom they would provide at all well by acknowledging only one formal wife. Meanwhile other women who bore them children in hopes of consolidating a relationship into a formal

marriage found that they had to seek another man to try to do that with, which kept up fertility (Bledsoe, in Preston, III 1990). In Ghana, the capital Accra’s 39 polygynists per 100 husbands in 1972 almost surely understated actual totals, for the wealthiest men joined the poorest in reporting it least (Aryee, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978), and probably were merely concealing it. Because spouses usually keep their properties and their accounts separate in many regions of west Africa, that was and still is entirely possible.

The matrilineal Kru of Liberia and Ivory Coast fully accept nonmarital births. In one Kru sample, 25% of births came from the 23% of women not currently married (Schwartz, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978). Kru infant and child mortality declined only slowly. In the 1970s, older Kru women had seen more than a third of their newborns die before age 3. Women still in their childbearing years had seen about two in seven die that soon, which helps to explain why Kru women were bearing at unchanged or even slightly rising rates in the 1970s. Even though those aged 40 to 49 had conceived 75% of their children before age 30, an increase of more than 13 years in life expectancy between 1954 and 1985 lengthened Kru women’s reproductive spans through lengthening their and their partners’ lives. Total fertility, therefore, rose from about 6.7 to at least 7.0 by 1984 (Antoine, XXIX 1985). That fits well with a mean of 6.4 born to women then aged 50 to 54 in Togo’s southeast in the 1970s (Locoh and Adaba, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981), and with the World Fertility Survey finding in Ghana that the only sizable fertility downturns (about one birth less) since 1960 were in regions near the coast. There, rising levels of available, and therefore expected, education noticeably increased child-rearing costs. Yet increases in fertility in Ghana’s interior al-

most entirely balanced these downturns. Thus total fertility for the whole country seemed almost unchanged (Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1984). Ghana had one of the world’s lowest sterility rates, with only 2% not having a live birth after at least ten years’ opportunity. Infant mortality was down to 10% for boys

and 8.4% for girls in rural areas in 1974-77, low then for west Africa (Jain, XXIX 1982). Infant mortality in Ghana as a whole was still estimated at almost 9% for 1985-90. It tended to be highest for those still following indigenous re-

ligions, next highest among Muslims in the north, and lowest among Christians, most of whom live near the coast (United Nations, III 1985). Among 20th-century Kusasi in northeastern Ghana, seeking labor through childbearing (and shortening abstinence to shorten birth intervals) replaced

280 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT the long intervals maintained when slave raids and local lineage feuds had made women unsafe without armed male escorts. Kusasi experience shows why Islamic reformers’ efforts to keep women in the home might appeal to women as well as to men. (It also suggests how that complex of rules could have grown in Islamic Southwest Asia, where armed combat between rival fac-

tions within states and lightning attacks by desert-based forces seeking to overthrow current rulers were the order of the day from the 7th through 15th centuries A.D. Only after 1516 did the Ottomans impose some degree of order and unity on most of the area, while their great rivals in Iran unified the rest.)

Kusasi mean age at first birth decreased from 1928 to 1983 by about eight months (Cleveland, in Handwerker, II 1986). Among the matrilineal Akan near Ghana’s coast, husbands were formerly expected to visit their wives in the wives’ family homes. Whether their children would be reared with her family, with his, or with another foster caretaker was left up to the couple and their families. A recent shift to neolocal residence has been accompanied by lower fertility (Piek, in Oppong, XXIX 1987). Neolocality leaves child-rearing more completely to the couple, even if

they use fosterage, than when it is shared with other, co-resident adults. Nonmarital births take place among Akan and other matrilineal peoples along the coast to Cameroon and beyond. Thus Ghana’s mean female marriage age

of 17.6 in the 1970s may cloak a number of premarital births. East of Ghana, Benin shows more polygyny than the Douala of western

Cameroon. Benin in 1971-72 had 31 polygynists per 100 husbands (Bekambo-Priso, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978), with 142 wives per 100 husbands in the 1960s (van de Walle, in Brass and others, XXIX 1968) and an

eight-year gap between men’s and women’s first marriage ages (singulate

means 16.9 for women, 24.9 for men). The Douala in 1964 had 18.8 polygynists per 100 husbands, 20.1% of them with more than two wives (Bekambo-Priso, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978). That was fewer than the Bamileke of western Cameroon, with 42.1 polygynists per 100 husbands in 1964 (55.1% of them with more than two wives) and probably also fewer than the Yoruba of southwest Nigeria. About a third of the normally large ex-

tended Yoruba households included at least one polygynous marriage in 1971, with 52.3% of all women in polygynous marriages (59.7% rural, 42.4% urban). Yoruba women’s age at marriage had actually declined to a mean of 18.5 in 1971 (Farooq and others, in Oppong, XXIX 1987) from at least 20 in the 1920s (Swindell, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1981). Yoruba give several reasons for separating spouses’ finances (KaranjaDiejomaoh, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978). Their parental kin and their children, not their spouses, are their chief beneficiaries. If a wife keeps her own accounts, her husband cannot assume that she can maintain their children without his aid. If a husband keeps his own accounts, he can save toward bridewealth for a new wife without objection from a current wife who wants money for children’s education or other family purposes. Like Bakongo at the

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 281 mouth of the Zaire River (Hilton, in Marks and Rathbone, XXIX 1983), Yoruba see no advantage to a joint conjugal fund in a polygynous system. Yoruba spouses lead separate lives, even with regard to abstinence. Fewer than 20% of the rural and poorer urban women surveyed said that their husbands abstained with them, to more than 25% of wealthier urban women. In addition, barely more than 60% of the rural and poorer women said that their husbands had not abstained, to almost 33% of wealthier urban women. More than 20% of rural and poorer urban women and more than 40% of wealthier urban women simply said that it was not their concern—24% of all women, to 19% with abstaining husbands and 57% who knew that their husbands did not abstain (Caldwell and Caldwell, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981).

Yoruba continue to see as their securest investments children for both sexes, trading for both sexes, and polygyny for men (Caldwell, XXIX 1976). Yet they are limiting fertility, seeing both the advantages and the expense of

educating children in a new era. Though mothers aged 40 to 49 with no schooling still averaged 6.2 live births in the 1970s, those with primary schooling averaged 5.9 and those with further education averaged 5.3 (Caldwell and Caldwell, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981). This contrasts visibly with other groups in Nigeria who were still averaging seven births per

woman at ages 40 to 44 in 1975 and 1979 (Ogbeide and Edebiri, XXIX 1984). Yoruba women customarily have used abstinence, long lactation, and termi-

nal abstinence after the first grandchild to lessen their childbearing years about as much as western Europeans lessened theirs before 1800 by marrying in the mid-20s (Lesthaeghe and others, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981). A 1973 survey of Yoruba women aged 40 to 44 around Ibadan found 75% of grandmothers and 25% of those not yet grandmothers in terminal abstinence. Two-thirds of farmers’ wives interviewed had taken that step, to only one-third of women who were professional or white collar or had husbands who were. More than half of those without schooling were in terminal abstinence, but only a third of those with any schooling. Even the best educated were apt to want at least four births in the 1970s. At 1970s mortalities, that was minimal for being sure of having great-grandchildren to remember them after they died

(Caldwell and Caldwell, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981). In urban Lagos, infant mortality in 1962 was 6.2% (Dorjahn, XXIX 1976). For all Nigeria in 1961, it was 16%, down from 21.5% in 1931 (Vimard, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1981). By 1985-90, it was at 10.5%. By 1976, lactation and abstinence steadily decreased with level of education among Yoruba women (Santow and Bracher, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981). Using canned milk to shorten both lactation and abstinence (and to show the paying father accepted responsibility) spread rapidly in the 1980s (Bledsoe, XXIX 1988). Canned milk had scarcely reached rural Ekiti district in the 1970s, where Yoruba village women still abstained at least 27 months. Just under half in Yoruba towns still abstained at least 19 months, as contraception began supplementing abstinence

282 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT as a maintainer of birth intervals (Caldwell and Caldwell, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981). Nigerian infant mortality was highest among Muslims (mainly in the north), next highest among those following indigenous religions, and lowest among

the mainly southern Christians (United Nations, III 1985). In 1974-78, Malumfashi in the north still lost 32% of those born by age 5, though rates had formerly been even higher (Bradley and others, XXIX 1982). In Zaria village in North Central state in 1975, 5.0 of the 7.25 average born to mothers aged 40 to 49 were still alive (Ottong, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978). Some peoples, like the Nupe, were still recovering from early-20th-century losses.

Others, like the residents of densely peopled Kano state, had gone past any losses and were growing far beyond earlier numbers (Mahi and Inikori, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987). Fertility in the north clearly was higher than in most of the south by the time census counts became political issues in Nigeria. Numbers meant both popular votes and legislative seats. Neither Christians nor followers of indigenous religions in the center and south cared for the prospect of a Muslim-ruled state based on a permanent Muslim majority stemming from continuingly high Muslim fertility. Non-Muslims in Nigeria feared the possibility of a struggle like that across the continent in Sudan, al-

ready visible in the 1960s and still going on as the 1990s opened. The 70% Muslim majority in northern Sudan and the 30% Christians and followers of indigenous religions in the south battled almost constantly over the right of the southern groups to maintain their own educational and other institutions, once Britain left Sudan in 1956. Cameroon faced partly similar issues, as a monogamous Christian onethird and a polygynous Muslim one-sixth looked at highly polygynous followers of indigenous religions like the Bamileke. Those proportions and a lack of unity among followers of traditional religions made feelings less strong. For the Bamileke, living in familiar or strange areas seemed to affect the respective fertilities of senior wives in polygynous marriages and wives in lastingly monogamous marriages. A senior wife bore and raised more children in her home area than a monogamous wife in her home area, but a senior wife out-

side her home area bore fewer than a monogamous wife outside her home area (Bekombo-Priso, in Oppong and others, XXIX 1978). Muslim Fulani in the north, like Bwa in Burkina Faso, were still suffering from the high sterility induced by rapid exchange of slave women in parts of the interior in the late 19th century. Yet they continued to bring in new members through extensive

intermarriage with neighboring groups, after they could no longer obtain slaves (David and Voas, XXIX 1981). All of western coastal Africa, not just Cameroon, continued to see many first marriages broken in the 1970s. About half of first marriages in Cameroon, Ghana, and Senegal ended in divorce or death before the wife reached age 50 (more deaths in Cameroon, more divorces in Ghana and Senegal), though more than 60% of the women remarried (Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1984).

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 283 In central Africa, the heart of the sterility belt lies in the interior regions of formerly French-ruled Gabon and Congo and formerly Belgian-ruled Congo (now Zaire), in landlocked formerly French-ruled Chad and Central African Republic, and in the south of formerly British-ruled Sudan. The first five became independent in 1960, four years after Sudan. Sudan showed fewer divorces and widowings than Cameroon, Ghana, or Senegal in the 1970s, about 30%. Even though life expectancies were shorter than in Cameroon or Ghana, fewer than 60% of Sudan’s widows and divorcees remarried. If that was be-

cause childless women found it hard to join new husbands (even in a polygynous society that could still use their work), it might represent the entire sterility belt. Yet Kenya and Lesotho almost matched Sudan’s figures (Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1984), perhaps because of Kenya’s strongly declining incidence of polygyny and Lesotho’s heavy out-migration of men to work in South Africa’s mines. Though the sterility belt is not marked by international boundaries, it is clearly concentrated in Gabon, Congo, Zaire, Chad, Central African Republic, and Sudan, and it is equally clearly a realm of early marriage, brief lactation and abstinence, low births per woman (not per mother), and many women with no live births.

Gabon showed 32% sterility for women aged 45 to 49 in 1960-61 (Cantrelle and Ferry, in Leridon and Menken, III 1977). In 1960, Gabon also still showed the effects of labor recruitment for plantations and mines, in contrasting ratios of about 120 men per 100 women in the Libreville capital dis-

trict and 70 men per 100 women in districts where labor was most heavily recruited (Blayo and Blayo, in Cantrelle, XXIX 1975). Congo, next to Gabon, showed only 15% sterility for women aged 45 to 49 in 1960-61. Because it lacked mineral wealth, its interior districts probably were less disrupted than those of Gabon or Zaire in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Zaire still showed 50% sterility in one district in the early 1960s (Nag, III 1980). The Ntomba people’s special care for pregnant women (especially in first pregnancies) and their relatively low resulting infant mortality clearly stem from real fears of being childless (Pagezy, II 1983). In and around the capital (then Leopoldville, now Kinshasa) in the 1970s, 37% were still childless at ages 45 to 54. By 1975, sterility in Equateur and Tshapa provinces had declined to 16.1%, from 34.7% in Equateur and 37% in Tshapa in 1956 (Lesthaeghe and others, XXIX 1986). In the border region shared by Zaire, Central African Republic, and Sudan—at the center of some of the most feverish 19th-century power-grabbing and slave-trading—more than half of local Nzakara women aged 15 to 44 in 1966 had or had had infectious gynecological lesions (RenelLaurentin, in Cantrelle, XXIX 1975). Nzakara women lost 33% of their preanancies to miscarriages (Belsey, in Leridon and Menken, III 1977). Azande

women in the same region showed almost 60% sterility in the 1950s (Lesthaeghe and others, in Page and Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1981). In 1977-78, Azande were still noted for early marriage for women and high divorce, though their spousal age gap was only six years (Gore, XXIX 1983).

284 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT With 140 men per 100 women among 19th-century slaves along the middle Zaire River, and with interior regions of out-migration in 1955-57 still showing ratios as low as 76 to 79 men per 100 women (to 125 men per 100 women in the capital of the southern mining province and 162 men per 100 women in the national capital), both women and men were likely to have had multiple partners in much of Zaire during the century before the Belgians left in 1960. That undoubtedly contributed to Zaire’s 1957 nationwide level of 20.5% ste-

rility among women aged 45 to 49 (Cantrelle and Ferry, in Leridon and Menken, III 1977), as well as to 7.6% of births in 1955-57 being outside marriage. By 1975, the sterility figure was cut to 10% (Lesthaeghe, XXIX 1984) and fertility rates rose visibly. A gap of about six years existed around 1960 between women’s and men’s first marriage ages, with singulate mean ages of

18.3 for women and 24.3 for men (higher than actual means in a growing population). This supported a polyagyny rate of 121 wives per 100 husbands,

with 20% of rural but fewer than 5% of urban households avowedly polygynous (van de Walle, in Brass and others, XXIX 1968). Yet nonmarital births (7.6% in 1955-57) suggest that informal polygyny probably existed in urban areas. The Belgians sought to stabilize family life by building villages to which their mine and plantation workers could bring wives and children. Yet Belgian con-

cern for conjugal families disrupted larger customary consanguineal family bonds, unsettling the communities those couples left. Conjugal patterns scarcely fit the lives of the Bakongo descendants of the matrilineal people of the 15th-century Kongo kingdom. They remain so firm about separating spouses’ budgets that spouses seldom eat together, as Akan spouses in Ghana

customarily do when husbands are with wives (Hilton, in Marks and Rathbone, XXIX 1983). A Bakongo spouse even has a sibling watch his or her

house when away, while the other spouse visits her or his kin. In Chad, in the interior, the Barma show high polygyny, a mean spousal age gap of more than ten years, a high enough divorce rate for a 1960s survey to find 35% of women divorced at least once (some more than once), and an average wait of 1.7 years between divorce and remarriage. During such a wait, partners may be taken, increasing yet more the risk of conveying venereal disease (Piek, in Oppong, XXIX 1987). Of undivorced Barma women surveyed (Reyna, in Nag, III 1975), 83% were not sterile, 63% of those ever divorced were sterile, 45% of the sterile had never been divorced (evidently valued enough to be kept despite childlessness), and 31% of the nonsterile had been divorced. Of the ever divorced, 36% had given birth in the very marriage that ended in divorce. Average age of first divorce was 19, several years after average age of first marriage. Average age of second divorce for those who experienced it was 24. In such rapidly circulating systems, any contagious disease, like tuberculosis, can spread quickly. When acquired immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS) began spreading across Africa, spouse circulation greatly speeded its disper-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 285 sion, leaving orphaned and even infected children for resource-short kin and governments to try to care for. Spouse circulation also makes it hard to build up strong spousal bonds to compete with lineage loyalty, if not even giving birth can assure a woman of not being divorced. Thus a woman who can give birth tries to insure herself for old age by bearing as many as she can within local expectations for lactation and abstinence. In the eastern interior from Chad to western Ethiopia, these are lower than in the west. Women marry young (though fewer than half as many are married at ages 15 to 19 as in the western interior), supporting polygyny levels like those of western coastal regions. Gerontocracy also remains strong. A comprehensive study of Sudan villagers and nomad pastoralists west and east of the White Nile in 1961-62 shows the importance of marital stability in fertility. The stably married clearly bore more (from less exposure to venereal disease as much as from longer opportunity), even if the less stably married sought births for security (Henin, XXIX 1968, 1969). Both the eastern and western nomads had more miscarriages per 100 pregnancies than the eastern villagers. Yet, because the west had more venereal disease and greater sterility, both western villagers and western nomads had more miscarriages than did eastern villagers, even among women still in their first marriage. Those who had lost a husband by death or divorce and then remarried had more than 90% to 90% more miscarriages among all nomads than among eastern villagers. Among western villagers, they had more than 150% more than among eastern villagers. In the eastern villages, even those in second or later marriages were sterile less than half as often as nomads or western villagers in second or later marriages. Median marriage ages for village women were not over 19, compared with 20 or more among nomads, who bore fewer children. About 19% of wives were in polygynous marriages among nomads, but only 5.7% to 10.6% among villagers. Women who had only been in monogamous marriages averaged almost a full birth more at ages 40 to 49 than those who had been in polygynous marriages. Women aged 40 to 49 who had been in undisrupted marriages averaged almost two births more than those who had been in disrupted ones. All nomads and western villagers averaged about five births for women aged 40 to 49 in fertile marriages, to more than six for eastern villagers. Fewer than 5% of pregnancies ended in miscarriages for eastern

villagers, to 7.9% for eastern nomads, 9.22% for western nomads, and 10.49% for western villagers (though that order reversed for undisrupted marriages in the west, with 7.77% for villagers and 8.19% for nomads). Henin attributed less than half the nomad-villager fertility difference to direct effects of polygyny, like greater ease of maintaining birth spacing through abstinence and more widowing for later wives, and more than half to physiological and medical factors, like malaria, venereal disease, less attention to prenatal needs for nomad women (who had to move with the herds regardless of their stage of pregnancy), and a later start in married life and childbearing readiness. Age at first birth even for western nomads married before 15 aver-

286 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT aged 17.1, whereas age at first birth for eastern villagers married before 15 av-

eraged 15.7. Henin noted that many western nomads were separated from spouses in the millet-harvesting season, when some men remained to do harvest work while everyone else moved with the herds. Despite having milk animals, nomads spaced births more widely than did villagers by lactating longer, perhaps wanting mothers not to have more than one young child to care for on migration. Two other Sudan villages show that choices matter (O’Brien, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987). In one village, elders welcomed opportunities for wage work as the colonial administration opened roads and canals. Those villagers then turned to raising cash crops for distant markets. Soon they were weaning infants at only six weeks, to hasten births of potential new field workers. As what amounted to a direct result, 63% of all the village’s women of reproductive age had lost at least one child by the time of the study out of an average of 5.6 births (implying at least 8 to 9 births for women who completed childbearing in their first marriage). In the other village, elders discouraged village men from seeking wage work, calling on them to continue meeting their own needs

through their own crops. Cash crops became only a supplement, not their major livelihood. Average births there numbered 4.4, and ages of weaning were 12 months for girls and 24 months for boys. (If a girl was born, a son was wanted as soon as seemed compatible with the girl’s probable survival; if a boy was born, more precautions were taken.) Only 24% of the women had lost one or more children. These details make more vivid a dry listing of sterility rates

and total fertility rates in the last 1955-56 preindependence survey of regional groups in Sudan (Demeny, in Brass and others, XXIX 1968). All four northern groups listed had lower fertility than either central or eastern southerners, as well as higher (though still relatively moderate) sterility than those two groups. The fertility and sterility of those called westerners, along the border with Chad, were much like those of northerners. Yet western southerners in the sterility belt showed 30.5% sterility and correspondingly few births per

woman, though not per mother. Some southerners in Sudan had migrated from the west as the French moved inland from the western coast, hoping that the upper Nile was remote enough to stay out of European hands. It proved a vain hope. Only the highland fastnesses of Ethiopia remained free of European rule (except for the anachronism of Italian conquest from 1936 to 1941). Still, aristocratic Christian Amhara domination galled both Muslims and followers of indigenous religions in the regions around the central highlands. Amhara Ethiopian rulers had to struggle for survival in the 19th century with its increasing pressures

from Arabs as well as Europeans, as the history of Zanzibar suggests. Ethiopia’s rulers expanded their borders as much as they could, wanting buffers against encroachment. In the process, they absorbed the Kafa people to the southwest, who practiced a local religion rather than either Islam or Christianity. Kafa experience with Ethiopian rule can be instructive in looking at

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 287 other groups’ experiences with other conquerors of differing religion and culture. Kafa men were accustomed to polygyny, with 21% of husbands in one sample being polygynists. They divorced fairly often, with 32.4% of sampled

rural men divorcing at least once and 28.8% of all marriages ending in divorce. Even more divorce took place among the few Kafa in towns. Men divorced a wife if she did not conceive within two years—not unrealistic from their standpoint, with 27% of women sterile. Kafa practiced complete abstinence from intercourse for a number of specified religious observances, and minimized intercourse at other times in the belief that this preserved strength for agricultural and other work. They customarily cut out any milk teeth that showed at birth, and cut the uvula if an infant had trouble swallowing while nursing. If these operations were performed with the sharpened sedge grass used by the Kikuyu of neighboring Kenya for circumcision and clitoridectomy, the consequences might not be damaging; but if done with a rusty knife blade obtained through trade with their new rulers, results could be deadly. Circumcision, which the Kafa began performing in imitation of their new overlords (hoping to seem more civilized), proved similarly deadly. Twice as many boys as girls died by age 5, in an overall infant and child mortality of 38.6% in the

1960s. Adopting all the Amhara Christian fast days (in a similar bid for respectability) added to the periods of abstinence. Given all these interacting factors, the dwindling of Kafa numbers between 1897 and 1967 from about 500,000 to about 230,000 is no surprise (Orent, in Nag, III 1975). Yet Kafa experience was far from unique, either among those who came under Ethiopian rule or among those who came under other conquerors over the centuries in Africa or elsewhere. The line of rulers who preserved Ethiopia from European rule (except for 1936-41) ended abruptly when a revolutionary republic was established in 1974. The dynasty had tried and failed to impose a uniform regime on its varied subjects. The republic was equally unsuccessful, and in 1991, a rebel coali-

tion forced its head to resign and leave. By then, a quarter century of mixed famine and warfare had disrupted families across both coastal and interior regions, strengthening the sense of need for kin even while making large kinship networks harder to maintain. Change came slowly in the many family patterns followed by the religiously and ethnically diverse citizens of Ethiopia. Yet a comparison between the numbers born to lifelong women residents of the capital Addis Ababa who were 45 or over in 1978 (6.62), the numbers born to migrant women 45 or over from other towns (5.23) and rural areas (5.69), and the much lower total fertility rates for younger lifelong residents (4.98), town migrants (4.19), and rural migrants (4.35) suggests that change was under way (Balachew, in Cairo Demographic Centre, III 1983). In neighboring Muslim Somalia, patterns broadly like those across the Red Sea in Yemen would probably continue for some time, even though (like Yemen and Ethiopia) its traditional political life had been republicanized. Kenya, where the British ruled from 1895 to 1963, is in the east Africa re-

288 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT gion where women’s marriage ages vary widely and men’s tend to be high, with resulting variations in levels of polygyny, which probably help to make lactation and abstinence slightly shorter on average than in the eastern interior. The Turkana people’s experience partly reverses other findings of lower fertility for pastoralists than for cultivators. Turkana pastoralists’ early mortality has been higher than that of Turkana cultivators (Brainard, XXIX 1986).

They have borne more and lost more, so that both pastoralist and agriculturalist women past reproductive age still had an average of 4.4 children living at the time of survey (Brainard, XXIX 1981). Before the British came, the large agricultural Kikuyu people of Kenya

married women at 17 or 18 and men from about 27 to 33. They used a polygynous system like that of the nearby Kamba, employing both abstinence

and coitus interruptus to space births (Jesel, XXIX 1986). Smallpox decimated the Kikuyu and other peoples like the pastoral Maasai and the agricul-

tural Kamba in the 1890s, when men from many regions were brought together to build a railway inland from the coast (Dawson, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1981). Only in the 1930s did recovery begin. As Kikuyu turned Christian and monogamous, men began to marry in their early 20s. Women began wanting more children, no longer having co-wives to share household tasks. In 1922, completed fertility for a woman who finished reproductive life in her first mar-

riage was estimated at 6.8; in 1969, it was estimated at 8.9 (Dawson, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987). With Kikuyu gaining political power through numbers as Kenya moved toward independence, other groups also sought high fertility, raising Kenya’s growth rate. By the 1980s, Kenya’s total fertility rate rose to 8.1 (Mburugu, XXIX 1986), as birth spacing decreased along with polygyny and women’s marriage ages (Lura, XXIX 1985). Some asked whether the fertility increase of the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s was in fact continuing, or whether women were having wanted children early rather than spacing as widely as before (which would increase projected fertility rates fora time). By 1990, earlier stopping clearly was accompanying shorter spacing, as the total fertility rate declined to 6.7. Birth expectancies in Kenya in the 1970s were between 45 and 68, depending on the region, the ethnic group, and the socioeconomic level into which an infant was born (United Nations, III

1986 #94). Infant and child mortalities were almost twice as high on the shores of Lake Nyanza as in the healthiest mountain area (United Nations, II]

1985). Birth expectancies changed little from the 1970s to the 1980s, but their higher new levels surely lessened pressure for many births. Marriage ages appear to have risen in Uganda between 1969 and 1980. That period almost coincided with the uncertain years of the rule of Idi Amin in 1967-79. Amin summarily expelled the small but economically important South Asian community. South Asians in Uganda, Kenya, and Tanzania had played an intermediary local merchant role during British rule (1894-1962 for Uganda), like that of Lebanese in much of west Africa. Their departure left

local distribution networks shattered, as inexperienced local people tried to

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 289 rebuild trade. Most of the South Asians chose to take their Hindu or Muslim families on to a new life in the cities of England, rather than return to either India or Pakistan. The local people who remained had only familiar kinship networks to rely on in the next few harrowing years of arbitrary rule. Thus rising marriage ages could have reflected difficulty in making suitable arrangements, rather than real changes in local attitudes. The Banyankole people of Uganda confirm the more usual pattern of pastoralists showing lower fertility than cultivators. In their case, it is primarily because of spouse separation during the dry season, when the men go with the animals but the women do not (Ntozi and others, XXIX 1988). The mainland of neighboring Tanzania was transferred from initial German control in the 1890s to Britain, as a result of World War I. Britain had already taken over Zanzibar in 1890 to end its slave trade. In the interior, the expanding Ngoni, who came from the south as the 19th century opened, were absorbing new members through teaching them Ngoni speech and customs. To free young Ngoni adults to help in this teaching, marriages were not arranged

for Ngoni women until about age 25 or for Ngoni men until at least 30 (Turshen, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987). The Ngoni brought into their ranks the remnants of many small, local linguistic groups that had been disrupted by Zanzibar-based slave-traders. When colonial rule ended their ab-

sorption of new members, Ngoni began to marry earlier. The new colonial rulers tried to bring together those living in dispersed homesteads, for better control, only to find that sleeping sickness (which dispersed settlement had controlled by keeping wildlife away) became rampant enough to prevent keeping cattle. Household sizes in the eastern grasslands averaged 4.22 to 7.1 by the 1960s, suggesting that local conditions did not require concentrations as large as those in west Africa (Goody, in Laslett, III 1972). The region’s people included both patrilineal and matrilineal groups. A study of colonial investigations found that matrilineality lessened the likelihood of polygyny by 13%, comparing fully patrilineal groups depending en-

tirely on agriculture with fully matrilineal groups depending entirely on agriculture (not partly on trade, like both patrilineal and matrilineal groups in west coastal Africa). Animal husbandry as the virtually exclusive occupation of a group (always patrilineal in this part of Africa) lessened the likelihood of polygyny by more than 18%, compared with a fully agricultural patrilineal group (Lesthaeghe and others, XXIX 1986). At times, as among the Bena, a group might even change from matrilineality to patrilineality. Not only could patrilineality give better protection than matrilineality from slave-raiders by keeping closely related men together. It also could ease long-distance trading in valued products like ivory by keeping closely related men together to carry it on. Moreover, patrilineality enabled men to give earnings to their own children, rather than see those earnings go to their sisters’ sons by other men.

In southern Africa too, the colonial period (and in South Africa the postcolonial era) meant forced labor, epidemics, semivoluntary labor recruit-

290 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ment, separation of spouses, skewed sex ratios both in regions of recruitment and in regions where recruits worked, and initial population loss followed by recovery and then expansion. Men’s marriage ages have been rather high in worker-sending areas, but so have women’s. Men’s long absences, facilitating

abstinence, have combined with gerontocracy and a lactation-promoting, protein-short diet to bring about Africa’s longest periods of nonsusceptibility to new conceptions (Lesthaeghe and others, XXIX 1986). The areas affected include Angola and Mozambique, held by Portugal for almost 500 years until forced to recognize their independence in 1975; the regions Britain controlled from the 1890s to the 1960s in Malawi, Zambia, Zimbabwe (formerly Rhodesia), Botswana, Lesotho, and Swaziland; and South Africa, which finally let Namibia go in 1990. Mozambique’s 123 wives per 100 husbands in the 1950s (van de Walle, in Brass and others, XXIX 1968) shows how heavy labor recruitment could raise polyayny above levels even in neighboring labor recruitment areas. Labor was recruited for plantations in Mozambique and for mines in South Africa, Zimbabwe, and Zambia. In Angola, where the balance between the sexes had been almost restored by 1918, forced migration of labor to mines in Zambia, Zimba-

bwe, and South Africa brought a new imbalance by 1940 (Heywood and Thornton, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987). Angola’s ratio of actives aged 15 to 60 to younger and older dependents was just over one to one by 1940.

This came partly from the absence of men of working age, but it also came from higher birth rates as women sought to increase the number of helpers at home. Many parts of Africa, not only in the south, had similar experiences. As

independence came in the 1960s, their ratios of dependents to actives reached and then passed one for one with rising fertility. Kenya in 1980 had 109.64 dependents per 100 aged 15 to 64—5.24 at 65 or above, 104.4 under 15, or more than one child per adult aged 15 to 64 (United Nations, III 1982). Yet fertility decline was not apt to begin until most people enjoyed better health, longer life, more education, and a governmentally guaranteed safety net of social insurance programs (Freedman, III 1979), conditions not present

in most of Africa south of the Sahara as the 1990s opened. In southern Malawi, 19th-century slave-raiding forced people to concentrate into villages for defense instead of staying in dispersed settlements. Epidemics spread and overintensive cultivation around the villages depleted the

soil. Famine already lowered population in 1863 and 1878, before Britain claimed the region. The British assumed that local inhabitants were only used to using the villages and the land around them, took the remaining lands to use themselves, and left the local people in the overcrowded villages. Famines

resulted in 1903, 1922, and 1949-50. The 1949-50 famine was so devastating that not even sisters born of the same mother would share what little food they could obtain—unheard of in that matrilineal society where kinswomen customarily ate together, bringing their children and quietly ensuring that everyone had a share. Husbands deserted wives, leaving to seek work and

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 291 food. They expected wives’ brothers to feed sisters and sisters’ children, as should have been done; but those brothers also were husbands and were doing the same thing. The British set up relief camps, but they took a long time to realize that women whose husbands had not divorced them before leaving could not pay for food, since they received nothing from either husbands or brothers (Vaughan, XXIX 1987).

Like struggles among the Tonga of Zambia over whether earnings from cash crops (which men began to grow when agricultural agents taught them to use animal-drawn plows) ought to go to a man’s sisters’ children or to the children he had with his wives, the 1949-50 Malawi famine demonstrates how disruptive market-based assumptions can be to subsistence-based matrilineal systems. Marketing peoples on the west African coast had time before Europeans arrived to work out arrangements like the separate bookkeeping used there among patrilineal, bilateral, duolineal, and matrilineal peoples alike. Swidden agricultural eastern and southern African peoples had no such opportunity to work out new arrangements at their own pace. The patrilineal

and locally powerful Lovedu of Zambia may have eased a move from matrilineality to patrilineality by increasing the use of mother’s brother’s daughter marriage. That would keep the men of a former matrilineage together, while reassuring women in a newer patrilineal situation that they would remain with kinswomen. The Bena certainly were trying to adjust when

they moved from matrilineality to patrilineality. Such changes continued through the colonial era and on into independence, as shown by Zambian leaders’ efforts in the 1980s to persuade wives to see their husbands rather than their brothers as their chief reliance. When Zimbabwe required in 1987 that a deceased man’s property be used for his widow and children, if the marriage had been civil rather than customary, it also allowed a man married by custom to bequeath property to his wife and their children rather than have everything go automatically to his maternal kin.

Polygyny decreased rather than increased as men went to the mines to work, among those the British ruled. Wage work usually enabled men to marry earlier than before, which effectively put a ceiling on polygyny. Divorce, and the near-divorce of long separations, increased too. That lowered fertility levels compared with other areas. It also led to more and more woman-headed households, as scarcity of men combined with increasing conversion to Christianity to leave no real alternative. When indigenous rule was established in Zambia, Botswana, Lesotho, Swaziland, and Zimbabwe, the new governments

eased labor recruitment somewhat. In South Africa, however, it was not reasonable to talk of ousting foreign rule, as it was even in Angola and Mozambique. Portugal made no real effort to send significant numbers of settlers until the 20th century; but 300 years had effectively made Africans, Afrikaners, of the descendants of South Africa’s first Dutch settlers. In length of settlement, they were far more African than descendants of laborers brought from India in the late 19th century to work in British-owned plantations on the

292 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT eastern coast, or descendants of British settlers who only began coming after 1800. Yet they were no more African than Cape Coloured (descended from early mingling among Dutch settlers, local inhabitants, and household slaves brought from Dutch-ruled Indonesia). Nor were they more African than those whose lands first they and then the British took over, sometimes after battle, as with the Zulu to the east, sometimes after epidemic, as with the Khoikhoi to the north. Decimated by smallpox in 1713, Khoikhoi then lost many of their

cattle to rinderpest, enabling the early Dutch to force many to accept enslavement in return for food (Ross, in Edinburgh, XXIX 1977). Even in 1990, some Khoikhoi descendants were among the laborers on Afrikaner farms, whose only chance of schooling lay in the willingness of the farm’s owner to provide a school on the farm. After long conflict, Britain sought in South Africa in 1907 to establish a partnership between British settlers and the Boer descendants of the early Dutch, which eventually could include the other peoples in South Africa. The color-blind vote (based on economic and educational qualifications) that Britain installed in the Cape region was repudiated and dismantled after 1948, however, in favor of a system that classified each person by race. That person’s opportunities for education, health services, career, and residence were then defined in terms of what was permitted or allotted to that racial group, until at last the residential segregation and population registration laws were repealed in 1991 (health and education services having been consolidated in 1990). Differentiations already were sharp in Johannesburg by 1921. The migrant labor role of indigenous Africans in Johannesburg as a mining center was clear then, with 772 males per 100 females. Though indigenous African women did manage to come to the city by finding work in British or Boer households, active discouragement toward their joining working husbands kept that ratio to 276 males per 100 females in 1936 and 178 males per 100 females in 1946. Only in 1960 (at 118 males per 100 females) did it go below 120 males per 100 females, and from 1970 onward, it still hovered around 110 males per 100 females (Proctor, in Cordell and Gregory, XXIX 1987). Under such conditions, it could only be expected that woman-headed households would increase in labor-sending areas, and that establishment of lasting marriages in labor-receiving areas was difficult. There, a woman might even balance relationships with more than one man, having one or two children with each, in her effort to build a securer life. In more polygyny-using areas in both west and east Africa, she might come to regard herself as a wife under traditional rules (whether the man in question acknowledged her or not), but that kind of fiction was harder to maintain in more monogamous South Africa. The situation was made worse by the unhappy fact that municipal authorities failed to provide decent housing at affordable prices in the areas to which indigenous Africans were restricted in urban districts, even after they revived the possibility of long-term leaseholds (barred in 1968) in the 1980s for the few who earned

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 293 enough to afford the houses offered to them. Repealing segregation in 1991 let those with money rent or purchase what they could pay for, but for many, that was far from adequate. Neither in the 1900s nor in the 1990s did leaders of those who had lost lands to earlier Dutch and British settlers seek expulsion of Dutch-descended Afrikaners or British-descended South Africans. What they sought and finally began to gain was an end to official assignment of individuals to racial groupings, which determined group members’ access to all public services and decision-making processes. South African Afrikaners proclaimed their intent

to preserve traditional societal values among all the peoples of their land through the classification system. Such an intent ignored the reality of ongoing societal change that takes place among all peoples when they find themselves in new or changing situations, and also the effect of the labor recruitment and residential segregation systems on individuals and families. Afrikaner proclamations of intent to preserve values rang hollowly, as long as the practical result for people like the Zulu or the Tswana was a forced choice between dividing into those who would go to work elsewhere with legal permits and those who would stay in the small areas set aside for them to use (13% of the land for more than 70% of the people), or trying to keep the family united by defying the laws that kept those without work permits in those small areas. Afrikaners and descendants of British settlers enjoyed the better health, education, and network of social services that enabled them to follow patterns of family life and fertility much like those of European-descended citizens in Canada or New Zealand. Among Asians or Cape Coloured, to whom less service was allotted, fertility was between those above them and those below them in the racial hierarchy. At the bottom of the social pyramid, but at the top of the fertility chart, were those whose ancestors had lost land to the Dutch or the British, and who had yet to gain political rights when racial classification was repealed. South Africa in the 1990s was not the South Africa of 1928, when infant mortality among those of European ancestry in Johannesburg was 7.8% but

among those of indigenous African ancestry was an almost unbelievable 70.5% (Gaitskell, in Marks and Rathbone, XXIX 1983). Much of that horrendous difference came from differences in medical care and public sanitation service, like infant mortality in Liverpool in 1899. Yet much surely also came from the custom of returning to the parental home to give birth, which would mean that births were registered elsewhere but deaths counted against births registered in Johannesburg. Even in the 1980s, going home to give birth re-

mained a common practice. South Africa’s experience in many ways was an intensified version of the cycle of initial contact, then conquest, and finally withdrawal of Europeans throughout Africa south of the Sahara, though in South Africa, withdrawal was transmuted into withdrawal of the claim that those of European ancestry should be able to govern others’ destinies without sharing the power to make

294 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT decisions that affected everyone. As elsewhere, contact brought both epidemic disaster (making conquest and initial control easier) and new technology, as well as market-based economic expectations that affected subsistence-based, family-centered social systems deeply even before contact became conquest and control. Who can say that the Zulu practice of regarding a wife as a female brother, permanently a member of her husband’s family even after he dies, was not affected by losses in battles with the early Dutch settlers before outside observers noted Zulu marriage rules? That pattern would protect widows and their children from being edged aside in lineage life, enough

to help encourage warriors to give their all in the full assurance that their wives and children would not be disadvantaged by their deaths. Certainly the more recent tendency of women to balance partnerships in search of more security in mining towns reflects the kinds of pressures that produce similar tendencies in other parts of Africa south of the Sahara, as economic instability and the growing expense of rearing children for an education-demanding soci-

ety force responses on those pressured by them, and as the pledge of bridewealth is increasingly ignored in practice. Though the sterility belt’s experience of frantic slave-trading was not present in South Africa, the arrival of acquired immunodeficiency syndrome brought even graver potential threats. The future of family life for every parent, spouse, and child among the less advantaged groups in South Africa’s pre-1991 racial classification system would hang on how it was dismantled and with what kinds of compensatory programs for those who had been allotted less under it. Even though the formal desegregation of public hospitals and other health facilities in 1990 was an important step, it would take decades to overcome segregation’s effects. The government might claim that teachers in all schools now received the same pay for the same qualifications, but that did not erase such realities as

that few black elementary teachers had as high a level of qualifications as many Asians or Coloureds and all whites, or that black elementary and secon-

dary teachers had far more students per classroom than those in other groups. If medical researchers in the United States in 1990 were suggesting that African-Americans needed at least a full generation of good nutrition and medical care to overcome the gap between their infant mortality and that of European-Americans, it surely would take even longer to overcome South Africa’s even greater gaps.

_CChapter 8 India (South Asia) and China Between the 2nd century B.C. and the 7th century A.D., when reliance on hereditary leaders in India solidified into dominance by priestly and warrior-ruler caste groups, China changed from hereditary leadership to identifying its gov-

erning elite by an examination system. Yet India and China are treated together here because they share the world’s historically and currently highest ratios of males to females among the regions discussed. Although Europe and North America have sex ratios of about 95 males per 100 females of all ages, Africa south of the Sahara about 98, Southeast Asia about 99, Latin America about 100, East Asia other than mainland China about 101, and North Africa and Southwest Asia about 104, mainland China and South Asia show 106 to 107 (Harriss and Watson, in Momsen and Townsend, III 1987; United Na-

tions, II] 1989; Li, XVII] 1988). Delhi in 1833 showed a sex ratio of 107 (Visaria and Visaria, in Kumar, XV 1983). In 1812 in Sichuan province in China, the sex ratio was 122 (Skinner, XVIII 1986). It was 112 for adults in the Shandong peninsula in north China in 1837, and 117 for adults in the province north of Shandong in 1778 (Rozman, XVIII 1982). India’s population history can only be studied effectively after British expansion began in the 18th century. Timothy Dyson (in Dyson, XV 1989) discerns five phases for the period since 1760: an era of almost no growth accompanying general disruption as Britain conquered India, to about 1820; an era of rapid growth to about 1890 as mortality probably declined; an era of slower growth to the 1940s as overcrowding led to higher mortality; an era of more rapid growth as mortality again declined; and recently some slowing of growth by fertility control. McEvedy and Jones (III 1978) hazard a guess of 105 million for all of South Asia in 1500, reaching 135 million in 1600, 165 million in 1700, 190 million in 1800, and 230 million in 1850. Durand (III

296 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 1977) estimates 75 to 150 million in 1500 and 160 to 200 million in 1750. The Visarias (in Kumar, XV 1983) suggest 100 million in 1600, 140 to 200 million in 1750, and 215 to 240 million in 1850. The appearance of a new and more virulent form of cholera in Bengal in 1817 may have slowed population growth, even though landlords’ rent increases in the British era combined with British demands for export crops to increase population by raising labor demands. Growth in the 19th century probably also was in part a recovery from 18th-century losses to a lethal mix of warfare, destruction, famine, and disease, whose worst effects were felt where cultivators did not have stable tenure on the land (Commander, in Dyson, XV 1989; Lardinois, in Dyson, XV 1989). Estimates can be put on a somewhat firmer basis after the first British cen-

sus effort of 1871. The growth rate for 1872-1921 may have been 0.37% a year (McAlpin, XV 1983), in view of setbacks from famine in 1871, 1878, 1881, 1896-97, 1901, and 1907 (Mitra, XV 1978). The worldwide 1918 influenza epidemic took a heavy toll in India, more than 6% (Mills, in Dyson, XV

1989). After 1921, attrition of gains in population came from malnutrition and inadequate welfare provisions more than from famine and epidemic (Mitra, XV 1978). Population grew about 1% a year from 1921 to 1951, slowed by the 1930s depression and World War II. Thereafter it increased more rapidly, as McEvedy and Jones’ estimates (III 1978) of 290 million for 1900, 445 million for 1950, and 775 million by 1975 suggest. Within the region, they estimate 189 million in 1850 for the future republic of India, 237 million in 1900, 356 million in 1950, and 600 million in 1975. The 1991 census showed 844 million. For Pakistan, they estimate 11 million in 1850, 16 million in 1900, 33 million in 1950, and 70 million in 1975; for Bangladesh, periodically wracked by flood and famine, 23 million in 1850, 29 million in 1900, 42 million in 1950, and 74 million in 1975; for Sri Lanka (known to the British as Ceylon), more than 2 million in 1850, 4 million in 1900 (many of them immigrants from nearby south India), 7.5 million in 1950, and 14 million in 1975; for Nepal in the Himalayas, perhaps 4.5 million in 1850, 5.5 million in 1900, 8 million in 1950, and 12.5 million in 1975, much of that from nearby north India; for Afghanistan, less than 4 million in 1850, about 5 million in 1900, 9 million in 1950, and 16 million in 1975. In 1981, Afghanistan

had a sex ratio of 106.7, to 104.8 in Bhutan in the Himalayas (Harriss and Watson, in Momsen and Townsend, III 1987), which put Afghanistan above Southwest Asia levels. South Asian populations increased about 3.5 times from 1850 to 1975. South Asia’s annual increase of 2.29% between 1950-55 and 1980-85 was

lower only than the 2.57% of Latin America and the 2.59% of Africa (Demeny, in Menken, III 1986). By 1981, South Asians numbered more than 900 million—13 million (1979 census) in Afghanistan, 87 million (1981 cen-

sus) in Bangladesh, 1 million (1969 census) in Bhutan, 685 million (1981 census) in India, 15 million (1981 census) in Nepal, 84 million (1981 census)

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 297 in Pakistan, and 15 million (1981 census) in Sri Lanka. Moreover, about 25 million left for other world regions from 1815 to 1914 and comparable mil-

lions more thereafter, lessening what could have been higher numbers (McGreevey, III 1985). India’s population would have looked even larger, and Sri Lanka’s and Nepal’s smaller, if Indians had not emigrated to them. Internal migration within India also could alter local figures drastically. In one dra-

matically affected district of Assam in the northeast, the succession of tea-planting in 1835, importation of labor in 1853, new roads in 1868, lumbering in 1881, coal-mining and a railway in 1882, steamships in 1883, and the discovery of petroleum in 1889 meant that by 1901, immigrants already were 60% of the population. Between 1832 and 1971, the indigenous population of that district multiplied 4.2 times, but the district’s total population mul-

tiplied 35.2 times. Between 1872 and 1971, the total district population multiplied 16.2 times, while that of Assam multiplied six times and that of India, three times (Borooah, XV 1985). Assam’s experience parallels that of northeast China, after the Manchu emperors (reigned 1644-1912) finally opened their former hunting preserve to Han (majority) Chinese settlement to frustrate Russian attempts to enter it. Immigration and natural increase multiplied northeast China’s population by ten between 1850 and 1975. In a migration that began before 1644, south Chinese already outnumbered Taiwan’s indigenous people by 1700. Taiwan’s total population increased from about 1 million in 1700 to about 3 million in 1895, when Japan took the island from the Manchu empire. By 1945, it held more than 6.5 million, but the 500,000 Japanese had to return to Japan after their defeat in World War II. Then more than a million Chinese flocked in from the mainland in 1946-50 as the Communists took over the mainland, and by

1975, the island held more than 16 million. On China’s mainland, the great arid interior probably changed little in overall population in the 16th through 19th centuries. Like peasants in parts of Southwest Asia, Tibetan peasants customarily faded into pastoral nomadism in remote mountain areas if their monastic overlords’ exactions grew too high (Ekvall, in Spooner, III 1972). The arid interior probably tripled in population to about 15 million from 1850 to 1975, if both the state of Mongolia and the Mongol provinces within to-

day’s China are included along with Tibet and Chinese Turkestan (now Xinjiang province).

The better-watered regions from the Sichuan basin east to the sea had a very different experience. The 100 or so million south of the Great Wall and east of Tibet in 1500 only reached 150 million by 1600, thanks to a lethal epi-

demic in 1568-69, and slid back to about 130 million, thanks to another in 1639-44, which clearly hastened the fall of the Manchu dynasty’s predecessor. Between 1585 and 1645, 35% to 40% of the Chinese may have died (Elvin, XVIII 1973). In Sichuan, already down to 5 million by 1645, another 2 million

died by 1680 as the Manchu campaigned against local resistance. Immigration from crowded regions nearer the coast soon made up those losses. By

298 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 1813, Sichuan had at least 22 million people. South of Sichuan, in Yunnan and Guizhou, incoming Han miners and agricultural settlers had to make peace (occasionally enforced by Manchu troops) with indigenous local peoples. The population climbed from about 3.5 million in 1700 to more than 10 million by 1775. By 1850, natural increase and continuing immigration brought that to more than 17 million (Skinner, XVIII 1986). Chinese in coastal regions clearly hungered for release from their densely crowded villages. About as many Chinese as Indians—some 25 million— emigrated in 1815-1914 and additional millions thereafter, or totals for China would be even larger. Both Chinese and Indian emigrants tended to be overwhelmingly men, not families, until after World War II ended in 1945. High sex ratios in both China and India around 1900 presumably would have been even higher—more like those of the years around 1800 for north China and Sichuan—without that migration. For the heavily peopled regions south of the Great Wall and east of Tibet, 130 million in 1650 came back to about 150 million by 1700, reaching perhaps 215 million by 1750 and 320 million by 1800. Cholera from Bengal in 1820-22 killed enough to make 380 million in 1850 seem more reasonable than 430 million (Skinner, XVIII 1986), for official Manchu tallies suggesting 430 million include provably unrealistic estimates. Mortality definitely rose during the 18th century and continued to grow in the 19th, as investigations of lineage genealogies show (Liu, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985; Telford, XVIII 1990). Mid-19th-century rebellions, combined with floods, droughts, famines, and epidemics, kept numbers from ris-

ing beyond 474 million by 1900. In 1920-22, famine in north China almost coincided with the peak of China’s influenza epidemic as well as with destruc-

tive political strife. Yet 583 million in the 1953 count was known to be an undercount. The 1982 census, which found just over 1,008 million in all of mainland China, was probably the first real census, rather than an estimate. China’s growth since 1850 is not as rapid as South Asia’s, 390 million (in-

cluding the arid interior) to 1,008 million from 1850 to 1982 (258%), compared with 230 million to 900 million from 1850 to 1981 (391%). China’s leaders turned contraceptive-minded by 1971; yet most of the difference came from slower growth rates before 1950, 390 to 474 million (about 22%) from 1850 to 1900 and 575 or more million by 1950 (also 22%), versus possibly 230 million to more certainly 290 million (about 22%) from 1850 to 1900 and then to 445 million by 1950 (about 53%) in India. China experienced continuing turmoil from 1900 to 1950. Almost 40 years of strife between would-be ruling armies or armed political movements and more than 30 years of struggle between Chinese and armed Japanese seeking economic opportunity in China followed the 1911-12 revolution that overthrew Manchu rule. Though turmoil surely slowed population growth, the sex ratio also must be considered. The 107.6 found in 1953 actually must have been even higher, for enumerators were sure they had undercounted men (Banister, XVIII 1987). Some men feared that former service on the losing

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 299 side might harm their families; others were determined to avoid involuntary labor duty or military service. Yet even 107.6 was higher than India’s 105.7 in 1951, itself an increase from 102.9 in 1901 (Harriss and Watson, in Momsen and Townsend, III 1987). For the British realm in India (today’s India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh), the 102.9 sex ratio of 1901 was a low point. In 1872, ratios for ages 0 to 11 were 102.9 in Mysore and 104.0 in Madras, both in the south. They were 118.5 in today’s Uttar Pradesh along the middle Ganges and 120.0 in today’s West Bengal, Bangladesh, and the North-West Frontier Province next to Afghanistan. These ratios were much higher than 107 in Delhi in 1833 for all ages, yet lower than 125 in 1826 in a central Gujerat district in the west known for its

upper castes’ use of female infanticide to avoid downward marriage for women. That district’s ratio reached 128.2 in 1867 before a British campaign for marriage reform eroded it to 116.2 in 1891 and 112.3 in 1901. By 1911, all of British-controlled India had an overall ratio of 103.7. It continued rising steadily to 107.5 in 1971, declined slightly to 106.9 in 1981, and rose again to 107.6 in 1991. A study of the 1971 census showed a clear line between less high sex ratios for those under age 15 in southern areas and higher ratios in the north central plateau, the north India plain, and the Himalayan foothills, regardless of whether the group looked at was total population (107.5 over-

all), scheduled or lower castes (separately listed or scheduled by British census-takers) at 108.2, scheduled tribes at 102.9, or the nonscheduled majority at 107.3 (Miller, XV 1990). Overall ratios for all ages together in 1961 were 105.9 in the east, 106.7 in the west, 108.5 in the center, and, as the greatest contrast of all, 113.6 in the

north and 101.4 in the south of India, compared with an all-India ratio of 106.3 (Desai, XV 1969). Ratios for those from infancy through age 9 in parts of the north were as high as 117 by the 1970s (Miller, XV 1986). Girls and young women fare somewhat better in the south than in the north and west, but the apparent greater survivorship of females in the south masks a reality of relatively high death rates for adult women (Clark, in Dyson, XV 1989). Fe-

males simply receive less support than males, as in the custom (more common in the north but not unknown in the south) of men and older boys eating first and women, older girls, and young children eating what is left. Alongside the highest of these figures for India, 1981’s 107.8 in Pakistan, 106.7 in Afghanistan and Bangladesh, 104.9 in Nepal, 104.8 in Bhutan, and 104.0 in Sri Lanka look relatively low. Even though Bangladesh’s range by district in 1961 had only been 99.7 to 105.1, it was up to 108.7 in at least one district by 1980 (Miller, in McKee, III 1984). Pakistan’s ratio for ages 0 to 9 in the 1970s was 110 (Miller, XV 1986), ranging from 100.4 to 114.6 by district

in both 1961 and 1981 (Miller, in McKee, III 1984). Local figures also could be high in China: 124 for those ages 0 to 14 in part of north China in 1778, 119 for ages 0 to 14 in Shandong in 1837, and still 112 for adults in a group of eight villages in north China in 1906 (Rozman,

300 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT XVIII 1982). Sichuan in 1812 showed 122 for all ages, with a range by district of 98 to 133. The 1964 census in China found 105.5, not the 107.6 of 1953, but slightly lower than the 106.3 of the more complete count in 1982 and the

106.4 estimated for 1989 (Sen, III 1990). The 1980 ratio of 105.1 found in Hongkong (Li, XVIII 1988) mainly demonstrated its continuing attraction to mainland refugees, likelier to be young men than young women. Taiwan’s

roughly similar ratio reflected in part the aging veterans of the antiCommunist military who fled to the island before 1950 without their families. Both traditional China and traditional India developed basically monogamous marriage systems. Minor deviations toward polygyny allowed for the

sonless in both and enabled priestly caste Brahmin women in India to have husbands. Pathogen stress was high, but not high enough to push toward widespread polygyny to ensure husbands for all women. Nothing like west Africa’s sickle-cell trait pushed toward women as well as men wanting more than one spouse. Social systems that moved very early to unilineality to transmit cultivation rights in crowded regions wanted assurance of nonsterility, not multiple partnership opportunities. The result was monogamous marriage for

everyone as early as could reasonably be managed. True, the village of Lonikand in north India in 1819 had 7 of a minimum of 122 husbands in polygynous marriages, or possibly up to 6% (Kolenda, XV 1970). All were upper caste and may have chosen polygyny over daughter destruction. Yet even Sri Lanka Muslims scarcely used polygyny by 1985, when only 0.2% of Sri Lanka husbands were polygynous, the lowest polygyny rate in South Asia (Caldwell and others, XVI 1988). In 1931 in undivided preindependence India, only 1% of women aged 45 to 49 had never wed. Despite the high sex ratio, only 4% of men aged 45 to 49 had never wed (Hajnal, in Spengler and Duncan, III 1956). Independent India in 1981 showed almost the same proportions (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980). In 1961, slightly more than 2% of women aged 45 to 49 and slightly more than 5.2% of men aged 45 to 49 in Pakistan had never wed, only about 0.5% of women though more than 3.3% of men in India, and under 0.3% of women and barely more than 1% of men in Bangladesh, rising slightly to 0.4% and 1.1%, respectively, by the mid-1970s. Only 0.8% of older women in Nepal had never wed. Yet in Sri Lanka in 1971, 3.6% of older women and 7.9% of older men had never wed. Sri Lankans ceased to insist on universal marriage as educational levels rose in the 20th century and women joined men in professional and public life. In China, percentages never marrying were, and still are, extremely low. On Taiwan, never-wed women

rose from 0.8% in 1975 (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980) to 2.2% in 1980 (Leete, XIV 1987). Though 10.0% of older Taiwan men were listed as never-wed, that included both veterans who truly never wed and veterans who never wed on Taiwan because they hoped eventually to reunite with a wife left on the mainland. Hongkong’s 1971 percentages of 3.8% for women and 7.2% for men re-

sembled Sri Lanka’s, for similar reasons. Despite high sex ratios, traditional India and China prohibited widow

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 301 remarriage, partly to help each woman in a monogamous system to marry, partly to check fertility. Only the small elites obeyed these prohibitions in full, using them to assert superiority over all who did not. Ordinary people in both China and India took widow remarriage for granted. In India in 1971, onethird of ever-widowed women were remarried, to almost two-thirds of everwidowed men (Bhat and Kanbargi, XV 1984), which probably reflected nonelite custom far more than 19th-century reformers’ efforts to lift the restrictions for elites. Remarriage of both widows and divorcees (if still fairly young) was taken for granted in Muslim areas like today’s Pakistan and Bangladesh, and also was accepted by many Buddhists in Nepal and Sri Lanka. For traditional China, studies of rural Taiwan Chinese families using official Japanese records for 1895-1945 indicate that when a widow had no sons, her husband's parents often sought a younger son from another family as an inmarrying new husband to engender sons (Wolf, in Zubrow, III 1976), even if they had to agree to assign alternate children to his family line and that of his new wife's deceased husband. In one community, about 30% of marriages in 1905-30 were uxorilocal, more often to brotherless daughters than to widowed daughters-in-law. In 1900-44, 90% of remarrying widows were in house-

holds with no working-age male, to only 31% of nonremarrying widows in such households (Pasternak, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985). From time to time over the centuries, Confucian-trained officials on the mainland noted such practices disapprovingly. They continued well into the 20th century nonetheless, but the Chinese Communists quickly outlawed formal contracts to assign children to lineages. Monogamy was harder to maintain in India than in China because of general preference for a large enough spousal age gap to give husbands a senior-

ity advantage. Sex ratios must be kept high by male-favoring and/or female-disfavoring practices to reconcile monogamy, universal marriage for women, and a large spousal age gap. Thus favoring men’s leadership in a monogamous system can both produce practices that keep sex ratios high and be upheld by those same practices, in a cycle that can only be broken by a fundamental shift in both attitudes and practices. If too many women mature for the men available, dowry as inducement for a potential groom is apt to become

prominent, as it has in recent decades in almost all of South Asia. Mean marriage ages were 12.77 for women and 20.01 for men in India in 1891-1901; 13.07 and 20.41 in 1901-11; 13.53 and 20.74 in 1911-21; only 12.52 and 18.44 in 1921-31 (the first time the gap was under seven years, as parents rushed to wed children before new minimum ages of 14 for women and 18 for men became law); 14.94 and 20.30 in 1931-41; 15.38 and 19.93 in 1941-51; and back to a full six-year gap in 1951-61, at 15.43 and 21.76.

Means by province ranged from 10.33 to 14.59 for women and 18.17 to 24.12 for men in 1891. In 1931, they were 10.45 to 17.6 for women and 15.69 to 23.83 for men, despite new laws. In 1941, they were 13.24 to 19.3 for women and 17.3 to 25.26 for men (Mitra, XV 1978). Not until 1961 did

302 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT women’s ages move up to a range of 14.3 to 20.1, and not until 1971 toa range of 15.2 to 20.9 (Dyson and Moore, XV 1983). Such early ages help to make it understandable that parents in India still expect to arrange their children’s marriages, whereas in areas of Chinese culture where marriage ages for

women have risen well into the 20s, the parentally arranged marriage has largely disappeared. Gaps in age between spouses did not vary widely by caste

level among Hindus, judging from all-India data on rural couples married from 1930 to 1950. Mean marriage ages were 14.3 for women and 19.9 for men in upper castes; 13.7 and 18.6 in middle groups; 14.2 and 20.2 in lower, but still clean or respectable castes; and 14.3 and 19.9 for unclean or scheduled castes. Religion made far more difference: Christian women and men, 18.6 and 24.2; Sikh women and men, 16.9 and 21.0; Muslim women and men, 15.1 and 21.2; and Hindu women and men, 14.3 and 19.6. From 1891 on, Christian women’s marriage ages rose consistently, though men’s ages fluctuated, whereas Sikh women’s and men’s ages both rose consistently. Muslim marriage ages declined slightly from 1891 to 1931 and then rose. Marriage ages in the small Jain community rose fairly consistently for both sexes. Hindu marriage ages, always lowest of all, declined for men from 19.3 in 1891 to 18.5 in 1931 and then joined women’s in slowly rising. Hindu women’s rose only from 12.1 to 12.3 in 1891-1931 (Mitra, XV 1978). In 1980, more than half of both Hindu and Muslim women still wed before age 20 (Hobbs, XV 1986). The difference between formal and effective marriage must be recalled

when looking at very early marriage ages. Those Hindu rural couples of 1930-50 waited an average of 38.2 months between wedding and consummation. Effective age for women in rural marriages of 1921-50 was 15.61, rising to 16.11 in 1961-62, when urban effective age was 17.42 (Mitra, XV 1978). As late as 1961, a village in extremely rural Orissa state showed a mean marriage age for women of 11.4, with more than half marrying before age 10. Yet mean effective age was 15.95, only seven weeks above median effective age (half above, half below) at 15.82 (Bebarta, XV 1977). In 60 villages around Varanasi (Banaras) in the north in 1956, mean formal and effective ages for women were 10.9 and 14.6, respectively, and for men, 13.6 and 17.3 (Collver, XV 1963). Singulate means in India of 17.1 for women and 24.7 for men in 1971 (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980) suggest a spousal age gap much like that of

Southwest Asia. The gap was not apt to be smaller in Pakistan, with a singulate mean marriage age in 1971 of 19.2 for women and an even more rapidly growing population, or in Nepal, with a singulate mean of 16.6 for women in 1971. Singulate means in Sri Lanka, with its smaller age gap, were 24.1 for women and 28.0 for men. Of all the 41 World Fertility Survey countries, only Sri Lanka showed median first-marriage ages for women aged 25 to

29 being more than two years greater than median first-marriage ages for women aged 45 to 49 (Hobcraft, in Cleland and Hobcraft, II] 1985). In eastern Bengal (Bangladesh), spousal age gap for first marriages for

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 303 both partners rose steadily from 6.4 years in 1931 to 8.0 years in 1951 and 9.0 in 1961, but was back near 8.0 by 1974 (Barkat-e-Khuda, in Jones, XIV 1984). In the 1970s, the gap was only 5.4 years for grooms under 20, but it was 15.4 years in polygynous marriages in 1975-79. For grooms under 25 ina polygynous marriage, the gap was 4.2 years, to 10.6 years for grooms aged

25 to 34, 17.9 years for grooms aged 35 to 44, and 29.7 years for grooms aged 45 or older. Mean ages for women entering polygynous marriages, who usually were divorced or widowed, ranged from 18.6 in 1975 to 20.5 in 1976. Mean ages for men entering a polygynous marriage in 1975-79 ranged from 33.8 in 1977 to 36.4 in 1976. Most medians were a little more than a year less

than means (Shaikh and others, XVI 1987). Placing too much faith in singulate means in a growing population is risky, however. Singulate mean age at first marriage for women in one Bangladesh village in 1979 was 17.6; but actual mean was 15.1 that year, having been 14.9 to 15.4 for half a century, and actual median was 15.3, having fluctuated between 15.0 and 15.4 for half a century (Abedin, in Cairo Demographic Centre, III 1983). Singulate means may accurately indicate spousal age gaps, but they may mislead with regard to whether marriage ages are indeed chanaing. Both historically and recently, spousal age gaps have been smaller in China than in India. Two fairly prominent clans in coastal Zhejiang province from 1650 to 1850 had mean marriage ages of 16.1 for women and 21.3 for men. Second wives or concubines were brought in to bear wanted sons as well as to replace wives lost in death, with 13% of husbands taking a second partner and 1.2% taking a third one. Age gaps were 4.24 years for first marriages in the wealthier lineage, with 3.3% of women coming in as concubines, and 2.16 years in the other, with 1.5% coming in as concubines (Liu, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985), while 18% of wives in the wealthier lineage and 10% of wives in the other were slightly older than their husbands. In Daoyi, Fengtien, in northeast China, in the 1790s, one out of four wives were slightly older than their husbands (Lee and Eng, XVIII 1984). How many slightly older brides were adopted as children to be married later to sons is hard to estimate. Figures for Taipei in 1896-1925 for preferred or major marriage (bringing the bride at the wedding, rather than adopting her in childhood) suggest that slightly older brides were not uncommon. In families of high socioeconomic status, 26% of brides in major marriages (86.4% of all sons marriages) were older than the groom, to 13% for those of medium status (77.5% of all sons’ marriages) and 7% for those of lower status (71.6% of all sons’ marriages). Among high-status grooms, 92% were 25 or younger, to 71% for those of medium status and even 67% for those of lower status (Sa, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985). Chinese clearly were as unwilling as Indians for grooms to wait to 30 or over, as they might in some polygynous African systems. With women almost never marrying before puberty, a median gap of five years or under in those Taipei matches was natural. Where prepubertal marriage still exists, in Huian county in Fujian province in southeast China,

304 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT the bride remains in her parents’ home. The marriage is not consummated until the bride has matured, and she only goes to the groom’s home after the

first child is born (Peng, XVIII 1989). In the center of the Canton or Guangdong delta farther south, brides customarily remained in their parents’ homes for three or more years before moving into their husbands’ households, though most brides there were well past puberty (Stockard, XVIII 1989). Canton delta people and Huian county people speak distinct local variants of their provinces’ local dialects, which differ markedly from standard Chinese. Local minority peoples who speak languages related to Thai follow similar practices in Guangxi and Guizhou provinces farther inland. Was a bride’s delayed transfer normal throughout south China until conquerors and then settlers from north China brought in the major marriage pattern centuries ago? Among northern villagers in the Shandong peninsula, new wives customarily have spent much more time in their parents’ homes during the first years of marriage than norms for major marriage suggest (Judd, XVIII 1989). What elite ideology may require for elite members may never have been practiced by most Chinese, any more than by middle- to lower-level caste groups in India.

A study of rural Chinese families done in 1929-31 and reanalyzed in 1976 suggests marriage ages of a little over 17 for women and a little over 21 for men (Barclay and others, XVIII 1976). Mean marriage ages for women may have risen from about 19 in rural areas and 20 to 21 in urban areas in 1953-61 to 22.3 in rural areas and 24.8 in urban areas in 1981 (Banister, XVIII 1987). Men’s marriage ages everywhere apparently remained in the mid-20s. One sample showed median marriage ages of 17.8 for women born before the Manchu downfall in 1911-12, to 20.7 for men, but 25.1 for women born in 1952-56 and 25.7 for men (Wei, in Cairo Demographic Centre, III 1983). Thus an increase in both men’s and women’s marriage ages may already have taken place between 1930 and 1950, but with women’s ages rising too slowly to reclose and then reduce the spousal age gap until after 1961. Mean marriage ages for women in Hongkong rose steadily from 19.5 in the years just before 1941 to 23.3 in 1961-65 and then declined in 1966-70 to 22.7 as fertility control began to be more widely used (Mok, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979). This suggests a broadly similar pattern to that of the neighboring mainland.

Singulate means in Hongkong in 1971 were 23.8 for women and 30.2 for men, and in Taiwan in 1975, they were 23.3 for women and 25.6 for men (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980). Taiwan seems likelier to reflect any general Chinese tendencies concerning spousal age gaps than the colonial enclave of Hongkong. In traditional China, minor marriage (adopting a young bride, often by exchanging young daughters between families with young sons) was a second choice, though often used in poorer areas. Bringing a uxorilocal husband into the bride’s home, whether as first husband to a daughter or as next husband to a widowed daughter-in-law, was a desperate last choice. Formally delayed

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 305 transfer was limited to identifiable, culturally distinct local subgroups. Informal delayed-transfer patterns, like those of rural Shandong, were neither discussed nor acknowledged, though they support the suggestion that a deep vein of matrilineality underlies the formal patrilineality of historical Chinese society. Neolocality, setting up an altogether separate household, was almost

unheard of before 1900. Much the same was true in most of South Asia, though it lacked bride adoption as a choice between the favored groom’shome and the disfavored bride’s-home mode. In Sri Lanka and south India, where daughters as well as sons might inherit land, moving into the bride’s home was more acceptable to Sri Lanka Buddhists and even south India Hindus. Muslims throughout South Asia were more willing than most Hindus to

see a man move into the household of a father-in-law of high standing. The roles of dowry versus bridewealth and of rice versus wheat also are significant. Where bridewealth alone is customary, as in Africa, daughters are

welcome, for their bridewealth enables their brothers and male cousins to marry. Bridewealth exists in South Asia. Muslim law requires it, and it also is found in many Hindu communities. Yet in much of north India and in neighboring Pakistan and Bangladesh, a married woman’s father or brothers must give her new clothing whenever she visits them (Miller, in Scheper-Hughes, III 1987). Among Muslims, this custom shows continued willingness to provide

for her under Muslim law, if her husband divorces her. Among Hindus or Sikhs, it is more obviously an attenuated dowry. It makes daughters less welcome because they are a lifelong expense, even if they bring in bridewealth to help sons wed. Where dowry has come to prevail—as it is apt to wherever

younger women become more numerous than the slightly older men they marry—daughters become even less welcome. Until recently in south India, all daughters were married before any sons, so that the family would know how much bridewealth the sons could use. As dowry replaces bridewealth, sons are expected to remain home to earn for daughters’ dowries. Only then may they, or more often their families, seek dowry-bringing wives. In both situations, sons must wait until daughters wed, but waiting to earn dowry for a sis-

ter differs sharply from waiting to see what bridewealth she will bring in (Caldwell and others, XV 1983). In Bangladesh, sons seldom marry much before age 24 in rural areas. They are expected to earn enough before marriage to repay both their own consumption in food and clothing and that of their sisters, so that the parents can save any surpluses for the local combination of bridewealth and dowry (Nag, in Eberstadt, III 1981). Dowry assuredly influenced some groups’ practice of outright female infanticide in the past. In one northwestern region of India in the 1860s, the British found that only 30% of living children were female, a sex ratio among children of 233 (Dickemann, in Chagnon and Irons, II 1979). Dowry clearly encourages selective neglect even today, not only in South Asia, but also in Southwest Asia and North Africa. Moreover, dowry is increasingly common even where it was not previously used, since even a modest age gap between spouses means

306 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT a shortage of potential grooms. Dowry may, therefore, account for much excess female mortality at early ages through selective neglect, and even for the finding that female birth expectancy in India has risen less rapidly than male birth expectancy (Bhat, in Dyson, XV 1989), with the least improvement in female survival at ages 10 to 14 and 30 to 34. At 10 to 14, dowry would soon have to be found, just when a girl’s family would lose any economic contribution she made. At 30 to 34, resistance to contagious and degenerative disease would be weak because of a combination of continued childbearing with growing strains from child-rearing and caring for increasingly infirm older kin. Thus female birth expectancy in India, even at the 1991 census, was not quite up to males’ 58.1—a full decade below the 67.98 for males and 70.94 for females for 1985-90 in mainland China, with its much more comprehensive public health network. Growing rice rather than wheat gives women economic value, for their work is wanted in the intensive gardenlike rice paddy. Women lack perceived value as food-producers in plow-using wheat-growing areas, where a man’s upper-body power is wanted. Even in a mechanizing area like Punjab state, tractors still lack power steering. Rice-growing makes infant girls less vulnerable both in south India (Harris and Ross, II 1987) and in West Bengal state and Bangladesh (Miller, in McKee, II 1984) than in wheat-growing areas of north India and Pakistan. Yet as dowry replaces bridewealth in south India, wifeburning (killing the wife by setting her afire in a nominal kitchen accident so another dowry can be sought) becomes as frequent there as in north India, to the dismay of women’s families and government prosecutors. Few cases can be proved in court, for only circumstantial evidence usually is available. Sex ratios thus remain hich in all of South Asia. Even in many bridewealthusing areas, daughters are expensive to marry properly (at equal or higher level) because of postwedding gift expectations. Sons bring in dowry or their wives’ postwedding gifts and remain at home to contribute. No citations are needed, though many could be given, for the resulting attitudes. Sons are wanted, daughters are not. A wife who bears a son is firmly cemented into her husband’s household. A wife who bears a daughter is, at best, regarded as making a proper effort, which it is hoped forecasts a future son. She often is encouraged to lactate a daughter less long than she would a son, to speed the next conception. The more daughters she bears before a long-awaited son, the more her probable total births and also the greater risk that some of those daughters will die young. Studies have been done since the 1950s in Punjab state, which had India’s second highest sex ratio in 1981 (Das Gupta, XV 1987). It also had the highest per capita income, so this is not a matter of poverty. The third poorest state, Orissa, in the rice-growing east, had the second lowest sex ratio. The seventh poorest, Kerala, in the rice-growing south, had the lowest of all, as well as the highest marriage ages for members of all religions. The other three major southern states were third, fourth, and seventh lowest in sex ratio. The

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 307 fifth, sixth, and eighth lowest sex ratios were in the rice-growing extreme east beyond Assam and on the northeast border of Bangladesh. None of the eight states with the lowest sex ratios was in the top five for per capita income. Punjab’s high sex ratio may have been maintained since the 19th century by

a gradual shift from the upper 25% in socioeconomic standing destroying about half their daughters, at birth or by selective neglect, to almost every fam-

ily destroying one of every seven daughters (Miller, XV 1986). One district had 16.6% of infant girls die in the first year in 1957-59, to 14.7% of infant boys—a decidedly abnormal result if they received equal care, but understandable when half as many girls as boys were brought to the local hospital (Miller, in Scheper-Hughes, III 1987). Hospital staff, therefore, set up outlying clinics and began making home visits; yet during 1965-84, 9.43% of girls and 7.77% of boys still died in the first year (Das Gupta, XV 1987), and 12.54% of girls died by age 5, to 9.53% of boys (Miller, in McKee, III 1984). Medical outlay in that district was 2.34 times as high for boys as for girls in the first year, and 1.21 times as high in the first five years (Das Gupta, XV 1987). This is by no means a purely north India phenomenon. A hospital study in the 1970s at Vellore in south India showed rates of 25.1% of girls dying before age 5, to 21.6% of boys (Miller, in McKee, III 1984). The most telling statistic is that first-year mortalities for 1965-84 in that Punjab district were more than twice as high, at 14.4%, for second or later daughters of mothers with some formal education as for their first sons, at 7.1%, or their later sons, at 5.9%, or

in fact their first daughters, at 5.1%. Schooled mothers’ second or later daughters’ mortality was even greater than for second or later daughters of unschooled mothers, at 13.7% (Das Gupta, XV 1987). The fact that 16% of second or later daughters of landless families died in the first year, to 11.9% of those in families with land, is easier for readers in nonpatrilineal societies to understand than this clear indication that mothers with schooling used their

knowledge for their sons and their first daughters, but against their later daughters. Punjab daughters receive more education and marry at a later age than most, except for Kerala daughters, but only if they are among the fortunate who survive. In an all-Punjab study of malnutrition in 1974, girls were eight out of nine malnourished infants of 6 to 12 months, just under two in three malnourished toddlers of 13 to 24 months, and just over three in five malnourished children of 25 to 72 months (Cassen, XV 1978). Between 1968 and 1969, India may have reached an unhappy turning point

reflecting greater use of dowry. In 1968, all-India infant mortalities were 13.6% for boys and 13.77% for girls, just possibly believable as chance. In 1969, they were 13.23% for boys and 14.87% for girls, or 112.4% of boys’ mortality, much higher than chance. Egypt, with a sex ratio of 102.2 males per 100 females in 1980, shows a first tipover point in infant mortality rates between 1952, when 113% as many male as female infants died, and 1953, when that ratio dropped to a range of 108% to 109% for some years. Egypt

shows a second tipover point between 1961 and 1962, when that ratio

308 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT dropped to about 101% (Hammoud, in World Health Organization, II] 1977). Yet even Egypt only moved on to higher mortality for female infants than for males after 1970. Among a group of Rajputs in the Gangetic plain, 63% of children under age 10 brought in for smallpox vaccination in 1955 were boys, to 37% girls, a result reachable by chance only 10% of the time. Even in 1975

(after a local health clinic, purer water, a local bus service, and a coeducational school were introduced), the figures were still 55% boys and 45% girls, almost possible by chance but still suspect (Miller, in McKee, III 1984). By the 1970s, hospitals in two northern cities already regularly provided amniocentesis and then aborted female fetuses on request. One hospital reported

in 1976-77 that only 20 out of 450 female fetuses were kept (Miller, in Scheper-Hughes, III 1987). China’s Communist leaders faced a similar situation after they began enforcing a one-child policy in 1979. A wave of postamniocentesis abortions of female fetuses appeared in hospitals that offered the service to detect serious potential birth defects so that couples could try again. The Communist leaders were so dismayed that they let parents with defective infants have another child without penalty, and simply banned amniocentesis for all but those at highest risk. When ultrasonic testing became available, they forbade physicians in 1987 to tell prospective parents the sex of a fetus, but enough physicians ignored the law and enough couples sought abortions of females to raise the sex ratio of actual births somewhat. In both Pakistan and Bangladesh, infant mortality remains greater among males in the first month, after which female mortality is greater until age 5 (Hobcraft and others, I] 1985), except in parts of Bangladesh where food supplies seldom run short (Menken and Phillips, in Preston, [If 1990). In famine times, malnutrition (and therefore disease) is worse for girls aged 1 to 4 in all socioeconomic groups, and may show the greatest difference in amounts received by girls and boys at higher rather than lower socioeconomic levels, since higher levels use more dowry and less bridewealth (Bairagi, XVI 1986). That offers an unhappy parallel to Punjab data on better educated mothers. As economic opportunity increased in 20th-century South Asia, patterns favoring male over female survival seem to have become more sophisticated rather than less prevalent (Clark, in Dyson XV 1989). Famine might be harder on adult men than on adult women if men left home to seek work and could not find it, whether in north India in 1877-79 (Mitra, XV 1978) or in Bangladesh in 1974-75 (Menken and Phillips, in Preston, III] 1990), but it also hit young girls harder than young boys (Bhat, in Dyson, XV 1989; Menken and Phillips, in Preston, II] 1990). The plague epidemics, which did not end until after 1921, ordinarily were harder on women and girls because they were indoors more (particularly if they lived in the seclusion of Hindu or Muslim elites) and were, therefore, easier for rat fleas to find and bite. Tuberculosis,

which increased in 1900-50, also hit women harder than men. In independent post-1948 Sri Lanka, female mortality was worse at all ages

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 309 than male mortality until the 1960s, but this gradually changed. By the 1980s, female mortality was slightly worse only at ages 1 to 9 (Nadarajah, XVI 1983). By the 1970s, males’ previously greater life expectancy was giving way to females’ slightly longer life expectancy (Ruzicka, in Jones, XIV 1984). In 192064, female mortality at ages 1 to 4 was more than 118% of male mortality at ages 1 to 4, and still almost 118% in 1971. The real difference came later in life. In 1971, women aged 30 to 34 had only 89% of men’s mortality at the

same ages, although in 1920-64, that figure had ranged by district from 137.5% to 169%. Despite DDT’s environmental threat, it dramatically cut malaria and raised life expectancies in malaria-prone Sri Lanka. Before DDT,

in 1946, birth expectancy was 42.2; after DDT, it jumped to 51.8 in 1947. One can see why DDT was still being used in the similarly malaria-prone area around Madras in south India in 1974, even though its environmental risks were well known by then. The fall in malaria deaths may have aided older girls

and women more than older boys and men, if they were more apt to be near mosquitoes. Yet higher female infant mortality had not prevailed in 1920-22. Neither wealthy nor poor in Colombo and neither Tamil upland plantation workers nor Sinhalese upland villagers nor Sinhalese coastal villagers showed higher female than male mortality. What mattered were socioeconomic, cultural, and geographic situations, with 34.1% of male and 32% of female Colombo poor infants dying (mainly Hindu and Muslim), 24.8% and 21% of

upland plantation Tamil infants (mainly Hindu), 17.3% and 15.1% of Sinhalese upland village infants (mainly Buddhist), 15.8% and 14.4% of Colombo better-off infants (mostly Christian), and only 11.4% and 10.1% of Sinhalese coastal village infants (mainly Buddhist), for sea breezes apparently helped to keep away mosquitoes (D’Souza, in United Nations, III 1986 #94; Meegam, in United Nations, III 1986 #94). Insofar as earlier infant and child mortalities in China can be ascertained, they clearly suggest neglect or even infanticide for unwanted females. Daoyi registers for 1792-1873 show daughters aged 1 to 10 always dying more often than their brothers (Lee and Gerde, XVIII 1988). For those born in 17871840 into marriages that lasted until the wife reached age 45, sex ratio increased with birth order, strongly suggesting early elimination of unwanted later daughters before their births were registered. Moreover, life expectancies for those who reached age 1 and were registered were fully seven years less for females than for males, at 28 more years versus 35.2 more years. In years of both good food supply and few epidemics, they went up only 2.2 years for females, to 9.8 years for males. In years of both famine and epidemics, they went down 9.6 years for females, to 6.3 years for males. Less variation in female than male expectancy (a spread of 11.8 years for females, to 16.1 years for males) suggests that even in good times, females were cared for at levels that were both lower and more consistent than for males. Sons in poor families or very large ones also might be at risk in hard times, but females always were at risk. Witness a Jiangsu province community with high 37.85% mortal-

310 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ity for male infants to an even worse 40.24% for females in 1933-34, a bad year locally, and 15.38% for males to 15.45% for females (scarcely any worse) in 1934-35, a better year (Banister, XVIII 1987). One lower Yangzi village in the 1930s had a sex ratio of 135 males per 100 females for children through age 6. In Anhui province in central China in 1934, it was 126.6 males per 100 females for children aged O to 4 (Dickemann, in Chagnon and Irons, II 1979). These illustrations confirm what the Daoyi registers show. In complex households, the 1774-1873 period showed a clear descending order of survival to registration, from the children of the head to those of his brother, his son, his father’s brother, his brother’s son, his father’s brother’s son, and his father’s brother’s son’s son (Lee and others, XVIII 1988). For children already regis-

tered, sense of obligation and deference to seniority modified that order for those aged 1 to 10, as the head’s younger brother’s sons survived more often than the head’s own sons. The head apparently thought that he must sacrifice his own sons first to maintain household unity. However, the head’s brother’s daughters were among those most at risk. The head’s father’s brother’s children of both sexes almost always had a marginally better chance than those of the head. Though a head’s father’s brother usually was a younger brother of the father, he also usually was older and in a senior generation, giving his offspring priority (Lee and Gjerde, XVIII 1988). The 1929-31 study showed a significant difference between north and south China, with 26.5% of male and 26% of female infants dying in the wheatgrowing north, to 30.6% of male and 34.5% of female infants dying in the ricegrowing south, for an all-China average of 28.8% of males and 30.5% of females (Barclay and others, XVIII 1976). This is not the result expected from rice-growing and wheat-growing areas, nor does it seem to fit with males having longer life expectancies at birth and at age 20 than females in the north but roughly similar ones in the south, until the possibility of greater selective neglect after infancy in the north also is considered. In north China, a woman’s auxiliary contribution to food supply through gardening and raising chickens and waterfowl could be both real and recognized, for she was apt to be less severely kept in a walled residential compound than her north Indian counterpart. In south China, demand for sons to strengthen lineages for local battles over irrigation rights and property boundaries counteracted women’s usefulness in food production, in an era of as much turmoil as the 19th and early 20th centuries. As many sons as possible were wanted as soon as possible. That made lengthy lactation or even retention of daughters undesirable to older household members. Because provincial and central governments were ineffectual in keeping order or resolving disputes satisfactorily through the courts, a lineage had to be ready to defend its own interests in both south and north China. Yet north China villages were less likely to be dominated by one lineage than in the south. Disputes between north China villages were, therefore, less apt to turn into lineage wars, particularly since more open terrain made policing easier in much of the north than in the south. Thus initial will-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 311 ingness to care for female infants could be greater in the north, but the north’s greater risks from drought and famine could lead to more neglect of girls and women later in life. Old habits die hard. The 1982 census in China found females consistently outnumbering males only in minority regions like Tibet and in the largest cities, where health services were best (Li, XVIII 1988). Guangdong province, where lineages had been especially strong (and especially hard for the Communists to replace with commune structures in rural areas), was the first province officially to let rural couples try automatically for another child if the first was a daughter (Peng, XVIII 1989). Its officials may have feared that otherwise, the female infanticide of the not so distant past would return in full force, creating an imbalance between the sexes that could lead to tremendous social problems. Leaders at the center in Beijing might call for population downturn to fit China’s numbers to its natural water supplies and to lessen soil, air, and water problems caused by deforestation and pollution. Local leaders looked at

local crime levels, and wanted every youth to marry and settle down. Infant mortality for females was only slightly higher than for males by 1953. In 1961 (a high-mortality famine year), it went slightly below that for males

(18.69% for males, 17.96% for females), improving in 1962 to 9.23% for males and 8.4% for females (Banister, XVIII 1987) and to 5.01% for males and 4.37% for females in 1973-75 (Li, XVIII 1988). The year 1978, the last before the one-child policy was enforced, saw a slight turning back, with 3.68% for males and 3.77% for females. After 1979, the sex ratio of reported births rose well above the 106 norm for Chinese populations. On the basis of a

106 sex ratio at birth, actual 1984 mortalities would have been 3.39% for males and 6.72% for females, with the difference presumably representing unreported female births (Banister, XVIII 1987). A second or later infant who also was a second or later daughter in a rural household might not be registered, if the parents could avoid that. If the wife went to her home village as soon as she knew she might be pregnant, she might even leave such a daughter for her kin to raise, or she might leave it on a government office’s doorstep somewhere between her parents’ village and her own. By the mid-1980s, reported infants showed ratios of more than 110 males to 100 females—a normal 106 for firstborns, but unbelievably high ratios for the frequent second births and the far less frequent laterborns. Because the school-entering age in 1990 showed 107, only 1 above a normal birth ratio for the mid-1980s infants, clearly a large number of unregistered (and probably not firstborn) females were turning up to attend school, perhaps as many as 250,000 yearly. Communists tried to raise the worth of daughters by enabling them to work and earn and by promoting uxorilocal marriage. They tried to lessen demand for sons by aiding childless aged. Yet son preference remained strong, even though daughters’ ability to earn meant that bridewealth (illegal but real) went up and dowry (also illegal but real) went down as a woman’s work skills became part of her dowry. Because men’s productive work continued

312 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT to be better paid than women’s, son preference remained economically understandable. Taiwan in 1921 showed regional differences in infant mortality. In the northern island area, where adopting future wives was common, 8.89% of males and 9.22% of females died before age 5, compared with 8.08% of males and 7.54% of females in the central island area, where uxorilocal marriage was relatively common. Uxorilocality apparently made that area’s families more will-

ing to keep daughters, since three times out of ten they brought in a sonin-law (Pasternak, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985). Neither Taiwan nor Hongkong would seem to have had as much female infanticide as other Chinese culture areas. Taiwan still had room for agricultural expansion; Hongkong offered commercial and manufacturing opportunities that could employ women as well as men. Socioeconomic status and situation matter in South Asia also. A study of recent infant mortality for agricultural-rural versus educated two-earner metropolitan families in a number of medium-sized countries showed 12.0% for agricultural-rural and 16.2% for educated metropolitan in Nepal, where city health services were still rudimentary enough for village isolation to be an advantage. Infant mortality was 14.4% rural to 12.9% educated metropolitan in Bangladesh, 15.9% rural to 9.2% educated metropolitan in Pakistan, and only 6.0% rural to 5.8% educated metropolitan in Sri Lanka, where health services are more evenly provided across the society (Ruzicka, in Jones, XIV 1984). Rural, urban, Hindu, and Muslim differences appear in a study for 1964-65

showing infant mortalities for Hindu males of 11.79% in rural areas and 8.83% in urban areas, to Muslim males’ 13.22% in rural areas and 9.85% in urban areas. Infant mortalities for Hindu females were 11.24% in rural areas

and 6.89% in urban areas, to Muslim females’ 10.61% in rural areas and 8.72% in urban areas (Mitra, XV 1978). In 1983, overall rural infant mortality was still 11.4%, to 6.6% for urban (Jain and Visaria, in Jain and Visaria, XV 1988). Throughout India, 19.0% of male to only 17.5% of female infants had died in 1941-50. Yet averages in the north were 16% and 15%, in the south 17% and 15.5%, in the west 19% and 18%, in the unhealthier and wetter east

22.5% and 20%, and in the crowded center 25% and 22.5% (Mitra, XV 1978). In 1959, when mortality for the first five years was 25.2% for both sexes together in Uttar Pradesh, it ranged from 15.9% to 19.3% in the band from Orissa and Bihar in the east to Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra, and Gujerat in the west; from 12.7% to 14.4% in the north (Punjab, Haryana, and Rajasthan) and south (Tamil Nadu, Karnataka, and Andhra); and only 9.0% in Kerala in the south and 10.1% in West Bengal in the east, with their more extensive health services (Dyson and Moore, XV 1983). Economic differences appear in rates of 30% miscarriages for the poor to 10% to 15% for the affluent in India (Gray, in Leridon and Menken, III 1977). They appear in numbers born in Mysore state (today’s Karnataka), with averages in 1951-52 of 4.4 births to ever-wed women aged 45 or over for those

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 313 who lived in thatch huts, 4.5 for those in mud houses with thatch roof, and 5.0 for those in either mud houses with tile roof or houses of brick, cement, or stone (Mitra, XV 1978); and in the survival to age 5 of 56.5% of the 4.6 born

to all wives (whether or not both spouses lived to age 45) if the husband earned less than 500 rupees a year, to 79.1% of the 4.3 born to this latermarrying group if the husband earned more than 2,000 rupees, giving them more survivors out of fewer births (Driver, XV 1963). They appear in 17% infant mortality in rural Uttar Pradesh in 1981-83 for those in homes with concrete or cement roof and floor, 24% for tile roof and mud floor, and 28.3% for thatch roof and mud floor (Khan, in Jain and Visaria, XV 1988). In Bangladesh in 1974-77, 3.9% of those aged 1 to 4 in houses of no more than 169 square feet died, 2.27% of those in houses of at least 243 square feet, and 3.15% of those in houses of 170 to 242 square feet. In households with no cows, 3.44% of those aged 1 to 4 died, 1.99% of those in households with at least three cows, and 2.72% of those in households with one or two cows. Though 3.56% of those aged 1 to 4 died in houses with no latrine, 2.81% died

in those that had one (D’Souza, in United Nations, III 1986 #94). Caste, socioeconomic, and religious differences appear in a 1973-74 Tamil Nadu study showing infant mortalities of 16.1% male to 16.2% female for dominantly landowning Vellalas, among whom 72% of husbands were landowners. For other, more urban upper and middle castes, with only 31% of hus-

bands landowning, infant mortalities were 13.8% for males and 12.1% for females. Among scheduled castes, in which just 17% of husbands owned some land, infant mortalities were 15.4% for males and 14.4% for females. Among Muslims, with 54% of husbands owning land but also with a tendency to be in

trade rather than agriculture, infant mortalities were only 10.1% for males, though 10.6% for females. Lower mortalities for scheduled castes than for Vellalas may mask more stillbirths for the poorer group. Mean marriage ages for women in the four groups varied only from 17.0 and 16.6 for Vellalas and other upper and middle Hindus to 15.6 for scheduled castes and 16.0 for Muslims (Ramanujam, in Jain and Visaria, XV 1988). All-India 1980 infant mortality showed 6.5% urban and 12.4% rural rates. For Christians, urban and rural rates were 5.2% and 8.5%; for Sikhs, 5.7% and 10.7%; for Buddhists (usually former unclean laborers), 7.8% and 15.3%; for the small mercantile Jain community, 4.1% and 10.0%; for Muslims, 6.3% and 11.0%; and for Hindus, including scheduled castes, the same as all-India rates, 6.5% and 12.4% (Hobbs, XV 1986). Only toward 1950 did cities begin showing lower mortality than rural areas. It is easy to see why people might want to use roads and railways introduced by the British and extended by Indians to migrate elsewhere in India, or even to use steamships (or roads, where possible, as into Nepal) to leave for other lands. With too many born for local opportunities, migration was a natural choice for some in both India and China. Differences within South Asia in female infant and child mortality, overall sex ratio, and other forms of female disadvantage all reflect patterns of kin-

314 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ship and of household structure. Most of south India and Sri Lanka share what is called a southern kinship pattern for South Asia, with more female work force participation, more female inheritance, and more autonomy for fe-

males in the household than in the northern pattern. The southern pattern also shows less control by grandmothers and a freer relationship between spouses. The northern pattern is shared with north India by Pakistan and, toa lesser but increasing extent, Bangladesh. In it, a married woman loses control to her husband over her dowry to a degree that has increased in the past several generations. Popular stories and songs suggest that marriage ages have historically been slightly higher in south India than in the north. As they have kept increasing during the 20th century, mothers-in-law have actively begun preferring daughters-in-law who are mature enough to trust to raise their own children. Previously, grandmothers had expected to see that young daughtersin-law took proper care of infants and young children (Caldwell and others, XV 1983). Only in Kerala, with India’s latest marriage ages, have sex ratios not risen during the 20th century. Instead, they have remained India’s lowest. Kerala’s performance is influenced by its relatively large Christian population, since that group already consistently wed daughters at an average age of 16.9 in 1891 (Mitra, XV 1978). In a somewhat parallel way, Buddhists in Sri Lanka tend to wed about a year later than Hindus or Muslims (Caldwell and others, XVI 1988). Rising women’s marriage ages and looser grandmotherly controls do not necessarily mean the collapse of the traditional joint family of parents, married sons, and grandchildren. With increased longevity, a joint family may separate before the parents die, so that each son has a separate household with his own married sons and grandchildren, rather than remain under his parents’ control with his wife, his sons, and his sons’ wives. What can be called a serial-stem family appears to be a more frequent outcome. As each son marries, he stays until the next son marries. Then he leaves, taking his share of the family property. Remaining unwed sons continue earning toward any remaining sisters’ dowry. The last son to marry stays with the parents. Because they can rear the children, enabling both him and his wife to work in the fields or at some urban task, he does not get a larger share of the inheritance, as do European stem-family parental caretakers. This pattern is being increasingly followed in south India by all except the priestly caste, among whom all but the most secularized see maintaining the joint family as a religious obligation (Caldwell and others, XV 1984). This serial-stem pattern is close to traditional forms in much of Sri Lanka and most of Southeast Asia, except that there either daughters or sons might stay, depending on how each newly marrying couple and their next older siblings assess the current situation. Sri Lanka’s traditional system adapted readily to rising longevity (near 70 by 1981). Half the Sri Lankan population were in nuclear households in 1975, but more than half of those age 65 or older were in some form of extended household with other kin (De Vos and Murty, XVI 1983). With birth expectancies moving only

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 315 to the mid-5Qs in India and Pakistan in the 1960s and 1970s and only to the late 40s in Bangladesh, that kind of change was still just getting under way in the 1980s. Such rethinking was probably hardly taking place at all in Afghanistan, Bhutan, and Nepal, which moved into the early 40s in birth expectancy by the 1980s (Ruzicka, in Jones, XIV 1984). It is not surprising that serial-stem families would emerge in the south before other parts of India. Despite the pathogen risks of warm and wet climates, life expectancies have been longest in the less crowded south since the British began taking censuses on which estimates could be based. In 1891-1901, birth expectancy was 27.6 for males and 29.9 for females in the south, to 21.3 for males and 22.1 for females in the east. Expectably, with its female infanticide and selective early neglect, the north showed 22.7 for males and 21.8 for females (Visaria and Visaria, in Kumar, XV 1983). By 1941-45, birth expectancy rose only to 36.22 for males and 37.23 for females in the south; 28.15 for males and 27.41 for females (less than for males) in the east; 31.33 for males and 30.93 for females in the west; 25.55 for males and 25.69 for females in the center; and 34.0 for males and 34.36 for females in the north,

perhaps the only time that northern females had even a slight edge over males. All-India female birth expectancy went below male expectancy in 1921-30 to 1961-70, according to Mitra (XV 1978), though Bhat (in Dyson, XV 1989) believes that this only happened in 1951-60. Female birth expectancy slightly surpassed that of males in the 1981 census, but was again less fa-

vorable in 1991. Mitra gives preindependence birth expectancy figures for Muslims in the early 20th century that look staggeringly high compared with figures for nonMuslims, but then points out that this is probably a migration effect resuiung from conversions to Islam as a means of raising status for those classified as unclean laborers or scheduled castes (as the British termed them in their censuses). Conversions raise the proportion of Muslims at later ages to those at early ages and lower the proportion of non-Muslims in later ages to those at early ages. Muslims, therefore, appear to have a much greater birth expectancy, for expectancies are based on current proportions at all ages in the year for which expectancies are figured. Annual migration also needs to be recalled

when using Indian census figures to figure birth or other expectancies. Throughout the century before independence and in the decades since 1947, workers have left for mines and plantations overseas. Hopeful merchants have left to serve them in their new places of work. More recently, highly educated professionals also have sought a better life abroad. Out of a base population that grew from perhaps 189 to about 685 million from 1850 to 1981, an annual average of 500,000 (mostly in their 20s and 30s) have recently been leaving. That can visibly lower calculated results. Joint families have been the norm in India for centuries before a curious British official investigated the north India village of Lonikand in 1819 and found a maximum of 29% of households including more than one married

316 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT couple, not much lower than the 29%, 29%, 34.5%, 41%, and 25% found in the same village in 1967 for five caste groupings ranked from high to low. The lowest socioeconomic grouping showed the lowest percentage. Members’ lives were probably shorter, lessening the likelihood that a household would remain joint for long. The highest groupings, on the other hand, were better able to afford a separation of assets before parents died (Kolenda, XV 1970). The exact year when a village is looked at can make a great deal of difference in how many households may be perceived as joint, however. That is clear from fluctuations over less than 20 years in the well-recorded French village of Hericourt. In 1688, it showed 95% nuclear households and 2.5% multiple households, yet by 1704, it showed only 68% nuclear and fully 23.0% multiple households (Goubert, VIII 1977). Villages in India are apt at any time to show that a high percentage of those who could be in joint households are actually in them. A 1958 study in central India found that averages in male marriage age, age of father at birth of first living son, and life expectancy of males at age 15 suggested that only 23% would be in extended families. Yet 30% actually were, in the villages studied (Orenstein and Miklin, XV 1966). That may demonstrate either the strength of the pull toward shared residence or an underestimation in life expectancies used. Sugao village in Maharashtra was counted in 1977 at a time when 52.6% of families were joint, though with many men working elsewhere (Dandekar, XV 1987). Sugao contrasts with a Karnataka group of one large village and eight associated smaller villages studied in 1981 (Caldwell and others, XV 1984), in

which only 4% of peasant caste households, 4% of service castes, 5% of Harijan or scheduled castes, 6% of Muslims (and no Jains), and 14% of Brahmin households currently were joint, whereas a clear majority in all groups were nuclear, even among labor-needing peasant and scheduled castes. The population list for Sugao village shows that service castes, like carpenters or tailors, are apt to be few in number. Sugao in 1977 had 70% Kshatria, who would hold the land and work it, combining the roles of Brahmin and peasant castes in the Karnataka villages. Service castes numbered 11%. Other clean

laborers (also comparable to the Karnataka service castes) numbered 7%. Neo-Buddhists (converts for the sake of improving status) numbered 6%, whereas 3% still accepted the scheduled caste status of unclean laborers, or 9% in all at the Harijan level of the Karnataka listing. The other few were Muslims. Interestingly, not the Muslims, but the lower socioeconomic groups had the most polygyny, for men in these groups were apt to give a brother’s widow or a first wife’s widowed sister a place to live by taking her as another wife,

thereby adding a worker to a labor-needing household. Karimpur in north India showed more complete families (nuclear, extended, or joint) in 1984 than in 1925, and fewer incomplete (subnuclear and solitary) households, with nuclear households rising from 22.4% to 43.7%, extended going from 26.1% down to 17.7%, but joint or multiple rising from 15.5% to 27.8%, fora

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 317 total of 64.0% in 1925, compared with 89.2% in 1984 (Wiser and Wiser, XV 1989). By comparison, Daoyi in north China in 1801 showed fully 47.9% of households containing 70% of the population as multiple. Only 23.5% of households were simple or nuclear; 12.1% were solitary; 12.5% were extended but included only one married couple; 1.9% were unusual kin households such as unmarried siblings living together but without a couple or parent-child combination; and 1.9% were unclassifiable (Lee and Gjerde, XVIII 1988). During 1906-46, at least half of Taiwan households always included at least two couples. At age 55 or over, men were least apt and women (presumably widows) were most apt to be in extended households with only one couple (Freedman and others, XVIII 1982). By 1982, only 24.2% of households in mainland China held three or more generations, to 66.4% nuclear (Liu, XVIII 1988). Multigenerational families were most frequent in the southeast and the near northwest, along the great bend of the Yellow River (Peng, XVIII 1989). It is probable that many nominally nuclear households were forming what on Taiwan came to be called associative households. Some associative households lived under separate roofs (like cooperating households in Turkey and elsewhere), others under the same roof, while sharing some expenses and tasks; some lived under the same roof and shared tasks but not expenses. Between 1965 and 1985, nominally nuclear households on Taiwan rose from 35% to

65% of all households, whereas joint households fell from 26% to 7% (Hermalin and Freedman, XVIII 1991). Yet the proportion of middlegeneration and older-generation couples who had available parents or children with whom to associate, and were in fact associated with them, went up. In 1988, 71% of those over 65 on Taiwan were in a household with mature offspring (with spouse also, if still living), 13.4% were with a spouse, 3% were with other kin, 11.5% lived as solitaries but often close to offspring, and less than 1% were in nursing homes. The pattern of familial acceptance of responsibility for the aged clearly was persisting into an urbanizing and industrializing society. Short-distance migration has been exhaustively studied in India but is barely

beginning to be looked at in China. Both have undoubtedly used it to balance household economies for centuries, striving (as in Europe and elsewhere) to keep a membership of approximately two adults of working age plus one early adolescent or still-contributing aged person for every two young children or care-needing persons (Burch, III 1967). In south India in 1975-85, marriages clearly were timed to keep food consumption needs as nearly constant as pos-

sible in view of the composition of the household. Within the south’s kinpreference marriage system, kin take care of other kin by accepting new daughters-in-law when it is convenient for their parents to have them leave, as well as when they themselves want another young worker (Rosenzweig and Stark, XV 1987). Households in the north also use marriage timing for departing daughters and incoming brides to balance household food consump-

318 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT tion and need for workers. Because they avoid rather than prefer kin, the overall balancing takes place within the larger caste grouping within which they marry. The south India households that vary most widely in food consumption needs seek and send brides farthest away, perhaps maximizing future sup-

port networks. Status considerations also may lead to seeking and sending brides far away. Those at higher caste levels go farthest, clearly wanting to maintain status by avoiding marrying a daughter downward or bringing ina daughter-in-law from a lower level. It is easier to claim that they have married properly if the new partner’s village is far enough away to make it difficult to gossip about that partner’s origins. Families use migration to minimize risks and/or maximize possible gains, whether a migration is for marriage or to seek work. Almost all women still move at marriage, though it may be within a city rather than between towns or villages. Households try to maintain a favorable composition by whom they bring in and send out (like Taiwan families exchanging daughters to save marriage costs), not only by preferring sons or disfavoring daughters. The 1971 census in India showed that among lifetime migrants, four out of six (three female to one male) merely changed residence within a district. Just over 8 out

of 40 (5 female to 3 male) changed residence within a state. Only 51 out of 500 (26 males to 25 females) changed from one state to another (Premi, XV 1982). In 1961, almost 23% of those aged 0 to 14 in India’s cities were migrants, or 18% of all migrants. One in 31 of migrants aged 0 to 14 worked as a child laborer (3.5 times as many males as females), or just over 3 in 8 of all urban child workers. Furthermore, 2.28% of all children aged 0 to 14 moved during 1961, to 4.69% of females age 15 or over (usually at marriage). In addition, 136 males age 15 or over moved for every 100 females age 15 or over who moved, with a range from 202 males per 100 females in West Bengal to 99 males per 100 females in Andhra in the south. With a sex ratio of more than 107 for the entire population, this suggests that each year, almost 1 in 20 of all Indians moved and almost 1 in 12 of all age 15 or over. Average household composition at that time was about 2.5 aged 0 to 14 and 3.24 age 15 or over.

By 1981, average household composition was about 2.2 aged 0 to 14 and 3.32 age 15 or over, as longevity increased and fertility modestly declined (Prabhakara, XV 1986). Matlab district in Bangladesh also showed 15 to 19 as the peak years for females to move away. Matlab men moved away most often in their late 20s, to seek work (Menken and Phillips, in Preston, II] 1990). In Pakistan in 1970, with birth expectancy in the mid-50s as in India, about 43% of the total population were aged 0 to 14 (Kuznets, III 1978). Using migration to balance household membership clearly was more urgent in Pakistani household planning than in Taiwan by 1975, where average household composition was 3.41 adults and 1.86 aged 0 to 14. Taiwan was beginning to experience the results of combining a reduction of mortality that began in

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 319 about 1910 with a reduction of fertility that began in the late 1950s (Hsieh, XVIII 1982). Birth expectancies in Taiwan were 70 for males and 75 for females by 1975 (Freedman, XVIII 1986). Sugao in Maharashtra illustrates potential impacts of migration on family life. Only 9% of the members of its dominant Kshatria families had emigrated, compared with an all-village average of 23%. Only 9% of the small weaving group had moved, and just 4% each of the few Muslims and the equally few who still accepted scheduled caste status. The latter may have felt too poorly prepared to try urban life. Yet 14% of the neo-Buddhists, whose conversion

showed their enterprise, had left. The service groups had departed overwhelmingly, 64% of them. They may have hoped that their skills, like carpentering and tailoring, could be more lucratively employed than in the increasingly crowded village. By 1977, the average number of living children per woman age 37 or over had grown to four. In the 23% outside the village were 35% of all males age 8 or over, 9% of all females age 8 or over (mainly adult men’s wives, daughters, and possibly sisters), and 15% of all aged 0 to 7. Among the 52.6% of households that were joint families, only 13.2% had all their adult men in the village. The other 39.4% had at least one man out. Of those, 33.1% had at least one man out and at least one man in, whereas 6.3% had all their men out, either on a permanent basis or on a long-term seasonal migration basis that only brought them home for short periods (Dandekar, XV 1987). Migrants visiting their families bring back new ideas, including, in recent decades, thoughts of family limitation as preferable to continued high fertility. Yet putting such thoughts into action takes time, and either favorable circumstances or such obvious population pressure that the only choices seem to be limiting births by contraception or limiting families by the infanticide and selective neglect clearly being used by Daoyi families in northeast China in 17741873. Daoyi families could not migrate. Their special status in the Manchu

imperial system as garrison households kept them in their villages, so that their men were always available for military service. Thus they felt population

pressure more quickly and sharply than people in less limiting situations. Daoyi households lacked the mobility of forager bands, which also grew and

shrank with need. Malapantaram foragers in south India always traveled in large bands of at least 20 to 25 when they still traded the forest products they gathered directly with villagers. Now that they trade with merchants licensed by the government, they go in smaller bands of 6 to 21 (Morris, in Leacock and Lee, II 1982). Foragers and incipient agriculturalists who still forage (those whom census-takers call tribal peoples or scheduled tribes) still compose almost 7% of India’s people (Sinha, XV 1979), more than the almost 6% of China’s people who are pastoral nomads in the north and far west, or agriculturalists, mixed agriculturalist-foragers, or (a few) foragers in the south and the near west between the Tibetan plateau and the great Sichuan river basin (Li, XVIII 1988). In both countries, the livelihoods of foragers and

320 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT agriculturalist-foragers are threatened by lumber workers’ and land-hungry cultivators’ cutting down of forests. Tensions can be high, as in Brazil and other nations with similar situations. The government of India does more than most to bring forest peoples into modern forms of forest use. One reason may be their numbers—1 in 15 of the population, not 1 in 30 or fewer. Another may be that India’s tribal peoples can form locally strong voting blocs, signifi-

cant in a functioning elective governmental system. India’s tribal peoples largely continue to follow customary family patterns, whereas those of China (whether pastoral or foraging or at least partly agricultural) feel more pressure to conform to marriage and family laws set forth as models by the central government. Many people say that those of Confucian heritage are pragmatic and those of Hindu heritage are not. Yet one wonders how unpragmatic ordinary Hindus really are, when one considers how tracing a pattern with rice flour outside the house each day trains ants to go there rather than into the house, or how spilling a little milk from a woman’s brass carrying-jar into the street for a passing dog trains that dog not to attack her because her odor means friendliness and food. The upper castes’ quarantine program has certainly been thorough, although incomplete in the absence of deep wells and the presence of airborne viruses—and unconscionably callous, to more egalitarian-minded observers, in not insisting on the same self-protection for everyone. On that score, Chinese do lead in practicality, universally drinking boiled water and eating precut food with chopsticks. One can suggest many evidences of Chinese practicality. Hongkong residents began reducing fertility even more rapidly than Taiwan residents. Total

fertility rates were still 5.61 in Taiwan in 1961 (Chang and others, XVIII 1987), the year the first family planning program began. In Hongkong, they were already only 5.17, for more restricted space made the risks of overbreeding obvious more rapidly as mortality decreased (Mok, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979). In 1970, they were still 4.0 on Taiwan, though already 3.73 in Hongkong in 1969. On the mainland, urban rates probably were already down to about 3.0 by 1971 (Banister, XVIII 1987). Rates were down to 2.42 in Hongkong in 1977, when Taiwan had reached 2.7 (2.08 in Taipei). By 1984, they were as low as 1.55 in Hongkong (probably because of later childbearing rather than a real drop below social replacement), to 2.05 in Taiwan (1.61 in Taipei, 1.83 in all cities, 2.22 in townships around cities, and 2.29 in rural townships). Li Chengrui (XVIII 1988) stated that mainland China re-

duced the total fertility rates found by George Barclay and others (XVIII 1976) for rural China in 1929-31—5.5 for all, 5.26 for the north, 5.69 for the

south—to 2.343 in rural areas in 1980 and something under 1.5 in urban areas. Ansley Coale and others (XVIII 1991) suggest an overall decline from

about 6 in 1968 to about 2.5 in the 1980s, with rural areas slightly higher, urban areas noticeably lower, and few third or later births even in rural areas.

Susan Greenhalgh (in Preston, II] 1990) states that before 1979, 95% of

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 321 mainland China couples went on from a first to a second birth. By 1984, that was down to 63%, though it went back to 77% by 1987. Before 1979, 40% of

births were third or later children for the mother and only 34% were first births. In 1984, first births were 56% and third or later births were only 17% of

those registered. In 1987, first births were still 52% and third or later births were still about 17%, whereas second births increased a bit as leaders responded to rural complaints. Nonetheless, that contrasts strongly with India’s performance. As late as 1980, India’s total fertility rate remained 4.68 for all, 4.98 for rural, and 3.56 for urban (Hobbs, XV 1986). Still, that was down from estimates of 5.8 for 1891-1911 (Bhat, in Dyson, XV 1989), 6.2 for 1906 (Coale, in Coale and Watkins, VI 1986), and 6.08 for all of South Asia in 1950-55 (Demeny, in Menken, III 1986). It continued going down gradually in the 1980s, being estimated at 4.3 for 1985-90 (United Nations, III 1989). Despite drastic setbacks like the 1959-61 famine, China’s Communist rul-

ers used rural health and education programs administered through communes fo raise rural levels of living materially. (That famine resulted from central planners’ failure to look for problems in production, collection, and allocation of food grains, in their zealous exhortation to local officials to report advances—and deal locally with any trifling difficulties—in the initial Great Leap Forward era of commune-building.) By the 1980s, birth expectancies were more than a decade greater for China than for India. China’s Communists eventually realized that increasing agricultural productivity (rather than merely maintaining per capita production through intensifying effort as numbers grew) could only come by unleashing individual initiative. They therefore removed controls from agricultural production, beginning in 1978. In con-

trast, India saw an actual decrease in per capita agricultural production of about 1% a year in the 1960s and 1970s, a situation that unhappily made India’s many hired agricultural laborers think that they needed even more children to increase household income. Here, small-scale practicality meant large-scale disaster, even though increases in overall production made India self-sufficient in food grains by the end of the 1980s. China’s Communist leaders began providing support for childless older people in the 1950s, to lessen pressure for fertility. They improved communications and transport, to make it easier for ideas to reach the countryside and goods to be exchanged, though in this realm, they caught up to India rather than surpassed it. China’s Communists promoted daughters’ worth to lessen pressure to bear sons, using group controls in the 1970s to ration opportunity

to conceive. These remained effective after 1979 in urban areas where workplaces could enforce them, but became less so in rural areas as the household lease system replaced communes. Yet it would be unfair to Indians to overlook several countervailing factors in comparing India with China. On the environmental side, India has to combat more pathogens in its location nearer the equator, and its annual rainfall is less predictable. India has avoided mass

famines produced by the human errors of decision-makers, like that of

322 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 1959-61 in China, for its political system with periodic general elections forces immediate responsiveness to voter concerns. India also has avoided coercive and invasive pressures in favor of persuasion and example, though that has meant slower fertility decline. By 1989, population increase was down to 2.1% a year, rather than Bangladesh’s 2.4% or Pakistan’s 3.2%, and total fertility rates moved from 5.8 in 1960-65 to 4.3 in 1985-90. The one great exception, the all-out vasectomy campaign of the mid-1970s, lost Indira Gandhi

the 1977 election. The monthly checkoff system followed in Chinese workplaces and residential units, both urban and rural, with its constant inquiries from medical workers—have you had your period? are you still taking

your pills/using your intrauterine device? are you ready to have a tubal ligation?—was absent from the Indian scene. Intrauterine devices were actively promoted in India in the 1960s, but insufficient followup services and re-

sulting infections brought wholesale popular rejection of that technique. One wonders whether China’s 1989 democracy movement was crushed in part because elderly leaders were determined to maintain their coercive and invasive pressures for population limitation until women born before the onechild campaign pass age 40. In 1989, reports admitted that even more physical assaults on local party and government officials came from opposition to birth control policies than from accusations of corruption. China’s population experts warned that in view of the per capita water needs of an industrialized society, China’s natural water resources dictated that its population must decrease by 2080 to about 750 million. They therefore urged that even though a two-child family was socially desirable because each aging pair of parents would have a married child to live with, controls should be strong enough until

2015 to keep the national average down to 1.5 per woman. One wonders whether India’s preference for voluntary teaching (like the woman with the rice-flour pattern, teaching ants to stay outside the house) is ultimately less pragmatic than constant coercive pressure. Such coercion seems likely to raise resentment, not respect, for its users, even though it lowered total fertility rates from 5.9 in 1960-65 to 2.4 in 1985-90 (United Nations, III 1989). India’s higher apparent rate of 4.3 for 1985-90 may even mask decisions to complete childbearing early, as in Kenya, in view of the fact that the rate of growth between 1981 and 1991 was slower than the rate between 1971 and 1981. Both Indians and Chinese found ways to combine partible inheritance systems (meant to give all sons and their families an equal start) with opportunities for the able and/or fortunate to accumulate more and share it with kin. Chinese sought public office through study and examination, relying on fellow students of the same teacher for support. Replacing Confucian study with candidacy for Communist Party membership on the mainland modified, but did not end, that pattern. Officeholding still meant gifts from those who wanted

attention to their needs or wishes. Indians saw it as the duty of upper-caste householders to build up wealth for their sons, between their years as students

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 323 and their years as ascetics within and then outside the household. For those at lower levels, any accumulation would have to be by luck. Upper-caste Indians

also formed networks of fellow students of the same teacher. Chinese networks may seem more open to anyone with ability, regardless of family origin; but they focused in the past on gaining office rather than directly on gaining wealth, as merchants sought to turn respectable landowners so that their sons could enter official life through study and examination, leaving less respectable trade to nephews or cousins. Indian networks, built on both kinship and occupation, were both more closed and more potentially cohesive. Europeans who dealt with the great Baniya and other merchant family groups of India in the 16th and 17th centuries believed that the Chinese merchants they found in

Southeast Asia could never break the control the Baniya exercised through far-flung Southeast Asian and Indian Ocean trade networks, for Baniya remained Baniya generation after generation and worked proudly and enthusiastically within that tradition. This may seem far from total fertility rates in the 1990s; yet it is directly related. Part of why Indians are slower than Chinese to bring down fertility is that people in India’s hereditarily structured society continue to think and act in terms of their hereditary groups, whether caste groups or minority religious groups (usually seen by their members as hereditary, not to be deserted for Hinduism). Despite a century of increasing efforts to remove hereditary barriers, India’s caste structure is far from having been dismantled. By 1990, India’s leaders publicly regretted not having made universal primary schooling compulsory, out of unwillingness to risk local rioting by requiring all to associate with everyone in public schools. Universal literacy could have aided family planning. Yet even with full literacy, caste organization of life would be

apt to frustrate population control. In China, Guangdong lineage members could still press for sons enough to force Guangdong’s provincial government to let rural couples whose first child is a daughter have another child, even though lineages lost power when the commune system took their land, and even though the postcommune household lease system was designed to prevent any new emergence of lineage landholdings. Like Guangdong lineages, members of caste groups and minority religious groups in India still believe that numbers are important, a perception reinforced in every election. Thus even if they want fewer children because of the costs of modernly raising and educating them—let alone if they still see children as earners rather than as

consumers—most caste group or minority religious group members want more children than are wanted by the few with special qualifications, like ad-

vanced university education. Those with such advantages do not expect to need much support from either their children or their hereditary group, even if they aid group members from feelings of common interest. Some, like landlords in Haryana and Punjab in the north, also may try to keep their heirs few so as to lessen the possibility of loss of status for those heirs. Yet only the genuinely advantaged probably are ready to settle for a two-child family.

324 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Lineages in India can still bring pressure for childbearing on young wives in

the band of high sex ratio and high infant mortality states from Punjab, Rajasthan, and Haryana through Gujerat, Maharashtra, Madhya Pradesh, and Uttar Pradesh in the north, west, and center (Dyson and Moore, XV 1983). They also can do so in Bangladesh, where lineages still dominate local political, economic, and social life. Leanings toward and away from asceticism

matter too. Monastic institutions in Buddhism and Christianity and injunctions to take asceticism into one’s life course in Hinduism correlate with their followers’ having slightly fewer births than do Muslims. Though Muslims form overwhelming majorities in Pakistan and Bangladesh, they remain conscious of being faced with a Hindu majority in South Asia, which may contribute, along with Hindu ascetic tendencies, to marital intercourse being more frequent among Muslims than among Hindus in West Bengal (Nag, in Bulatao

and Lee, III 1983). The grandmother effect of terminal abstinence ending pregnancies when grandchildren arrive remains real in Nepal and Banagladesh, about a third of a child in the total fertility rate in 1975-76 (Tan, XVI 1983). It also is real in eastern Uttar Pradesh after the first daughter-in-law enters a household (Yadav and Singh, XV 1986). It probably helps to increase grandchildren’s survival, in view of Ifaluk experience (Turke, in Betzig and others, II] 1988). Terminal abstinence fits well into a culture that extols asceticism, much as west Africans extol a woman who maintains abstinence for her child’s sake. The widespread practice of wives making long visits to kin also enforces abstinence and spaces births, particularly where most wives go to their natal home to bear the first child. In 1951 in Bangalore city, 54% of wives did so, almost as many as the 61% in rural areas around Bangalore (Chandrasekaran, in Mahadevan, XV 1986). Hindu injunctions to uppercaste husbands to abstain until wives are purified (shortly after the first postnatal menstruation) also help to space births and thereby limit them. In north India, kin-avoiding marriage also kept fertility down, since wives’ visits to their families meant long journeys. As kin avoidance lessens, fertility rises slightly because wives need less travel time, even if they visit as often and as long as before (Frenzen, XV 1984). Not all birth-lessening behavior is primarily meant to lessen births, not even later marriage for women, which may be primarily meant to give them time for earning before marriage or for formal education. In India, as in Sri Lanka, parents are more willing to see daughters marry later than before; but this is less true in India than in Sri Lanka because most Indians continue to value caste distinctions despite government efforts to lower barriers. Many Indians still see early marriage for women as needed to maintain status. Differences between India and Sri Lanka also reflect the form of Buddhism practiced among Sinhalese, which places more of the responsibility for a woman’s actions on herself and less on men in her family than either Hinduism or Islam (Caldwell and others, XVI 1988). Sinhalese Buddhism is thus more like Christians’ attitudes in western Europe than in Mediterranean Europe, with its concern for

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 325 family honor. A woman’s downward marriage or nonmarital pregnancy harms her kin group’s reputation less among Buddhist Sinhalese than among Hindu Indians. Caste distinctions in Sri Lanka, never as strong as India’s, have re-

laxed enough in the 20th century to make intercaste marriage somewhat acceptable. Late marriage makes recent abstinence by Sri Lanka grandmothers mean a difference of only 0.02 of a child in total fertility rates; but lessening the grandmother effect is only a side effect of late marriage. Lessening births to younger wives is far more significant. Historically, fertility also has been kept down in Sri Lanka by the facts that couples seldom sleep together in its hot climate, and that in its still limited economy, most couples share their room with a child

or children, a parent with whom they are living, or an unmarried sibling (Caldwell and others, XVI 1988). Earlier restraints clearly have been relaxed. McEvedy and Jones (III 1978) estimate that the Sinhalese and early Tamil im-

migrant population took from 1500 to 1850 to double, not counting newer Tamil laborers brought by the British in the 19th and early 20th centuries. The 1850 population probably took another 75 years to double again, not counting newer Tamil arrivals, and more than another 50 to double yet once more.

Indigenous Sri Lanka growth in the 20th century was rapid, but probably slower than that of the combined Pakistan-India-Bangladesh population (which doubled from 1950 to about 1985), if those who migrated from south India more recently and their descendants are not counted. Not all women in India remained below about 6 births until recent population control efforts, even though total fertility rates seldom went much above 6.0. In Andhra villages in households where youngsters aged 10 to 14 helped in home manufacturing for the market, women married 25 or more years had borne 7, whereas similar women in agricultural households had borne 6.2 (Mahadevan, in Mahadevan, XV 1986). In 60 villages near Varanasi in the north in 1956, those married 30 or more years had borne 7.12, to 6.83 for those married 25 to 29 years, 5.78 for those married 20 to 24 years, and only 4.25 for those widowed before 20 years of marriage (Collver, XV 1963). Widowing kept births for all women under six throughout India most of the time. The all-India mean age of widowing in 1951-61 was 38.3, almost four years older than the 34.4 of 1901-11, enough to make another birth possible with the same early marriage age or to make the same number of births possible with a later marriage age (Nag, III 1980). A 1951 comparison of births to women aged 45 or over in Bangalore and rural Mysore/Karnataka showed 5.8 rural and 5.9 urban for those still married at age 45. For widows, it was only 3.6 rural to 4.2 urban. Husbands were lost earlier in rural areas, but not always to death, for sometimes they went away to seek work and did not return. Over-

all averages were 4.8 rural and 5.3 urban, noticeably fewer than in those Andhra villages or around Varanasi (Mitra, XV 1978). Living in joint families did not affect fertility (Driver, XV 1963). Having better public health and family welfare services was what counted (Dutt and others, XV 1988). Families

326 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT could then be more certain of survival for those born. They did not need to be concerned, like those around Varanasi in 1956, that 22% of parents would

reach 45 with no living son. Fertilities continue to vary in India by religion and by caste level. By religion, total rural fertility rates in 1980 were lowest for Jains and Christians, next lowest for Buddhists, next for Hindus, then Sikhs, and highest for Muslims. Total urban rates were lowest for Christians, next lowest for Jains, next lowest for Hindus, then Buddhists, then Sikhs, and highest for Muslims, as well as being at least a full child lower in all groups than rural rates. Differing mixtures of urban and rural proportions thus led to highly urban Jains having the lowest

overall rate, then Christians, then Buddhists, then Hindus, then Sikhs, and Muslims highest (Hobbs, XV 1986). In the Delhi district, Muslim total fertility

rates around 1970 were almost 2 children higher than those for Hindus or Sikhs, 7.04 to 5.19 and 5.15, respectively. The rather small difference between total fertility rates for lifelong residents at 5.95 and for migrants at 5.45 was still much larger than that between those in nuclear families at 5.54 and those in extended families at 5.59 (Kathuria, in Chari, XV 1975). There also was a clear progression downward from scheduled castes at 8.27 to laboring castes (6.29 for artisans or service castes and 5.81 for agricultural workers) and upper castes (priestly Brahmins at 5.6, commercial Bania at 5.35, Khatri Arorah at warrior-ruler level at 4.86). Both in the Delhi district and across India, Muslim fertility rates remain relatively high; but neither the few Sikhs nor the more numerous Muslims are apt to increase rapidly their share in total population. In neighboring Bangladesh, lineage remains an important enough aid network in that country’s frequent emergency situations to produce pressure for many births. Moreover, children (especially boys) can earn, increasing an individual family’s well-being compared with less fertile neighbors. Still, declining mortality began to bring declines in fertility in the 1950s (Schultz, XVI 1971). Comparisons of Pabna village in rural Pabna district in 1977 with Shihpur village in the Dhaka capital district in 1974 suggest the reality of that change; but they also suggest its modesty. Current total fertility rates in 1977 for all women aged 15 to 49 in Pabna village were 6.23 and in Shihpur village, 5.0, noticeably lower than the actual numbers of births to women aged 45 to 49 and still married at 45 (7.48 and 6.54) but still far from low. The difference between numbers born to all ever-wed women (4.52 and 4.08 for monogamous

wives, 4.07 and 3.40 for polygynous wives) and to women still wed at 45 clearly demonstrates the impacts of widowing (particularly on later wives in polygynous marriages) and divorce. Older men gained more children from polygyny (7.9 and 5.2) than from monogamy (4.6 and 4.2), but scarcely more than women gained by remaining unwidowed at age 45 (Abedin, in Cairo Demographic Centre, III 1983). In 1980, there were 89.13 aged 0 to 14 (94.18 total in the dependent ages below 15 and above 64) per 100 aged 15 to 64 in all of Bangladesh, contrast-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 327 ing vividly with 54.62 aged 0 to 14 (62.6 in dependent ages) per 100 aged 15 to 64 in China in 1982. In the China of the 1930s, when 15 to 49 probably represented full vigor better than 15 to 64, those aged 0 to 14 and 50 or over

probably were about the same percentage of those aged 15 to 49 as those aged 0 to 14 and 65 or over were of those aged 15 to 64 in Bangladesh in 1980, in both rural and urban areas. In the Bangladesh of 1980, where 15 to 49 also might represent full vigor better than 15 to 64, vigorous workers were surely in a minority (Li, XVIII 1988). China had already reached a favorable three-actives-to-two-dependents ratio for the whole society. Bangladesh was far from that, which greatly worsened its families’ problems in trying to escape from household poverty. Figures for Taiwan villages in the early 20th century can help to illustrate the mainland China situation. Those women born in Haishan near Taipei in 1856-1920 who reached 45 still in their first marriage bore 7.37 in a major marriage, but only 5.40 in a minor or adopted-bride one, perhaps from aversion between spouses raised as siblings. The few uxorilocal marriages showed 6.91. Divorcees or widows who remarried and then reached 45 in the new marriage averaged 7.84 if they entered the husband’s household, to 6.71 if the husband joined them. (Japanese law made it easier to divorce a wife than traditional Chinese law. Japan’s own divorce rate was about one for every ten marriages in 1920-24, midway through Japan’s rule in Taiwan.) Unremarried Haishan widows averaged 4.08 and unremarried divorcees, 3.60 (Wolf and Huang, XVIII 1980). Those born in Haishan in 1881-1915 (of whom fully 40% were adopted brides) who completed their fertility in their first marriage showed 5.71 for adopted brides, 7.63 for major marriages, 7.79 for uxorilocal marriages, and 7.0 for the few adopted as intended brides who made major marriages instead (Wolf, in Zubrow, III 1976). In central Taiwan, Chungshe village had about 30% uxorilocal marriages until Japanese introduction of irrigated agriculture made labor cooperation between households easier by ena-

bling farmers to spread out planting and harvesting times. Using total first-marriage fertility rates (not completed births) for 1900-45, Haishan showed 7.52 and Chungshe 7.83 for major marriages, to 5.69 and 7.91 for adopted-bride minor marriages. Chungshe adopted brides came in childhood, not in infancy, which evidently made a difference in young couples’ ability to avoid aversive feelings. Uxorilocal marriages in Haishan showed 7.63 to a large 9.84 in Chungshe. Adopted brides in both villages were more apt to become divorcees than were other brides (Pasternak, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985). These rates fit well with a total fertility rate of at least 7.52 calculated for Daoyi in 1792 (Lee and Eng, XVIII 1984), but not with an estimated 5.5 for 19th-century China (Barclay and others, XVIII 1976). Yet a 19th-century estimate of 5.5 fits 5 births for each first-married wife in 2 Zhejiang clans in 16501850 (Liu, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985). Interviews in 1980-81 with women born in 1896-1927 in a number of parts of China suggest a total fertility rate of

328 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT at least 6 (Wolf, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985), noticeably higher than the

5.44 total fertility rate (5.26 north, 5.69 south) estimated for 1929-31 (Barclay and others, XVIII 1976). Daoyi women seldom lived up to a 7.52 total fertility rate in terms of registered infants. When food prices rose, all families registered fewer female births. The poorest families also registered fewer male births, as did heads and their cousins in complex families (Lee and others, XVIII 1988). Sex ratios among children were highest for the poor during 1787-1840. They even surpassed 130 for those born in first marriages among the wealthy in which both spouses lived until the wife turned 45. Marital fertility for sons who left complex households in 1792-1873 rose 12%, for nephews 15%, and for cousins fully 33%, suggesting the degree to which complex households’ members might pressure couples to keep children few. Couples may have targeted a specific number of sons and halted bearing (or stopped

keeping those born) after they had that many. Bad times probably always meant such controls. More of those born were kept only if there were openings for them. The Daoyi community’s hereditary assignment to cultivate its designated lands denied agricultural expansion, though that was available in areas like Sichuan in the 18th century. Daoyi family members also were unable to use commercial expansion, though it became increasingly available in

quite a few areas in the 19th century. Differing percentages of those aged 0 to 14 in differing parts of a north China county in 1877 strongly suggest selective rearing. In the chief city’s administrative center, with its well-off officials and their staffs, young children were numerous and sex ratios were low, for parents could afford to keep those born. In the entire commercial area, sex ratios and percentages of children were near the all-county average, though children were fewer in the busy center, with its many in-migrants seeking work. Percentages of children were extremely low in the outer ring, where transient laborers came and went. In the villages, percentage at ages O to 14 fell (and sex ratio rose) directly with distance from either the city or the Grand Canal (still the major grain transport

route between central and north China in 1877). Commercial opportunity clearly helped to make parents believe that they could afford to keep daughters, or even all their sons (Rozman, XVIII 1982). China’s Communists had reason to strive to elevate daughters’ worth, and to redouble their efforts when they began the one-child policy. China was unique in bringing fertility down by 53% between 1960 and 1981 while only decreasing its agricultural labor force by 7%. Other developing nations decreased their agricultural labor forces by about 5% but their overall fertility by

only about 10% (McGreevey, III 1985). Overcrowded Sichuan managed to have almost all children in villages born within the first ten years of marriage and in cities within the first five years by 1980-82 (Freedman and others, XVIII 1987), even though rural children still required only 25% as much cash outlay as urban children (Peng, XVIII 1989). When communes were dismantled after 1980, the elimination of rural grain rations and private plots based

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 329 on number in the family were intended to increase rural child-rearing costs, to counteract the potential usefulness of child labor in the new household lease system. Yet until rural provisions for health care and old-age support rose appreciably, no rural couple was apt to want fewer than two sons. Besides, rural wives could combine rearing children with farm duties more easily than urban wives could combine rearing children with jobs outside the home. If the one-child policy was making betrothed couples try to be sure that they could bear the wanted offspring—and interviews in Chengdu in Sichuan in

1987 suggested that 30% of women there had had intercourse before marriage (Gilbert, XVIII 1991)—the mainland press was not reporting it. In Taiwan villages, practical families evidently followed up on the pre-1945 reality of about 4% of births being to women currently husbandless, some, but not all, of whom were recent widows or divorcees (Barrett, XVIII 1980). Increasingly, formal betrothal became tantamount to marriage, as for many European peasants in earlier centuries. Among women born in 1930-34, 6% were already pregnant when they married. That rose to 9% for women born in 1940-44 and fully 19% for women born in 1950-54 (Freedman, XVIII 1986). So accepted did the practice become that the Free China Journal for March 23, 1989, a Taipei publication in English distributed to foreigners, carried a story on a couple whose carefully made match had nearly collapsed when the bride-to-be discovered a tattoo on the thigh of the groom-to-be when they disrobed in their hotel room—a simple flower design, but evidently making her fear previous immorality. She fled, shrieking, and it took long persuasion to bring her to forgive her fiance’s junior high school indiscretion. Confucius must have whirled like a top in his grave. He had adjured men never to touch a woman who was neither blood kin nor wife. His followers even argued over whether to touch a brother’s wife to save her from drowning, and decided that only if no stick was available to hold out to her could the hand legitimately be used. Confucius notwithstanding, the continuing importance to Chinese of having at least one or two children meant that postbetrothal premarital fertility testing might even come to be regarded as a new version of marrying but then having divorce available (always the case in traditional Chinese law). In Taiwan, if not in India, it made a difference as late as 1980 to a woman’s fertility whether she had lived with her husband’s parents (Freedman and others, XVIII 1982), but that difference faded as numbers born converged on two or three. Most Taiwan couples even in the 1980s began married life with the groom’s father and/or mother if one or both were still available, which was likelier for those born on Taiwan than for those born on the mainland. Thus the difference may only have been the difference between more rural Taiwan-born and more urban mainland-born. The expectation that a Taiwan bride would begin married life in her husband’s parents’ household means that Taiwan parents now seek to delay a daughter’s marriage so as to retain more of her earnings, unlike parents on Java in Indonesia, who welcome early marriage for daughters

330 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT and discourage it for sons because the couple usually lives with the bride’s par-

ents at first (Wolf, XVII 1990). Though China’s Communist government clamped down on childbearing for the majority 94% of Han Chinese, it did not do so with the small minorities. Because most of them live in the sensitive border areas with China’s neighbors, from Vietnam, Laos, and Burma to India, Nepal, Afghanistan, Mongolia, and the former Soviet Union, the Beijing government tried not to alarm them into wondering if they would have more freedom to direct their personal lives on the other side of the line. The one partial exception was Tibet. There, Chinese Communist determination to end monastic rule despite Tibetans’ deep religious beliefs led to clash after clash. Close trade relations with fellow Tibetans in neighboring Nepal enabled many Tibetans to leave and form enclaves in both Nepal and neighboring Indian mountains. Tibetans soon began to complain—as did Mongols between the Great Wall and the state of Mongolia—that Beijing was moving young Han Chinese into the area. Tibetans and Mongols further complained that the Communists encouraged marriages between Han and local people, evidently trying to make pure Tibetans or pure Mongols a minority in their own homeland. Local nationalities in So-

viet Asian republics raised similar issues in the late 1980s, weary of being urged to move to other areas while the government settled Kussian speakers and other nationalities in their areas. Beijing tried to placate local peoples through organizing autonomous counties and provinces, but objections to Chinese as residents did not disappear. Nor did fertility rates decrease as rapidly as among the Han majority. Though the Beijing government provided contraceptive services freely to all minority members who asked for them, the coercive and invasive techniques used with Han were not used with minorities. As a result, total fertilities for non-Han were 4.356 in 1980 (Li, XVIII 1988).

Tibet's nomads remained untouched by fertility limitations as late as a 1985-88 study, though villagers near the capital Lhasa were voluntarily limiting themselves to four or so. Only in 1990 were Lhasa’s urban residents told that they must learn to stop with two, as Han urban residents were urged to stop with one (Goldstein and Beall, XVIII 1991). The Yi people of the mountains of Sichuan, who used slavery until the new Communist government ended it, rose 47% in numbers from 1956 to 1980 (Wang and Zhang, XVIII 1984). That increase may parallel earlier increases in African societies when released former slaves became free to choose when and whom to wed. Tibetans used polyandry for centuries to limit total births, much like 17thcentury Sinhalese in central Sri Lanka, who also used contraception and infanticide to avoid fragmenting inherited lands (Fernando, in Dupaquier and others, III 1981). For mountain-dwelling Tibetans, ensuring child survival by

increasing household-level ratios of actives to dependents was essential. Group differences in infant mortality in Nepal between long-resident and im-

migrant Tibetans, Nepalese, and Indian immigrants are not as large as in many developing countries, though slow introduction of public health mea-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 331 sures still keeps rural rates below urban rates (United Nations, III] 1985). Almost all Nepal inhabitants show somewhat moderate fertility (Gubhaju, XVI 1983). Widespread transhumance sends at least some husbands to higher alti-

tudes each summer with their animals, separating them from their wives enough to lower fertility. Those Tibetan mountain herders who ride rather than walk may find that their warm clothing even heats men’s sperm enough to lower its fertility, and riding itself can increase both male impotence and female miscarriages (Ekvall, in Spooner, III 1972). Overall Nepal marriage age means in 1976 were still in the teens for women and barely out of the teens for men (Shrestha, in Cairo Demographic Centre, II] 1983). Women aged 45 or over in 1971-75 had a completed actual fertility of 5.63 in Nepal’s mountain region, which was not expected to go below 5.4 much before A.D. 2000. Several Tibetan communities long resident in Nepal have been closely studied because of anthropologists’ interest in polyandry. Their dynamics shed added light on issues of sex ratio and infanticide. Five Tibetan communities in particular offer such insights: Chumik (Schuler, XVI 1987); Tamang (Fricke, XVI 1986); and Ladog, Rongphug, and Gyaling (Levine, XVI 1987).

Chumik is sharply divided into aristocrats, ordinary commoners, and subcommoners. Of aristocratic marriages, 15% are polyandrous, to 14% of commoner marriages and only 4% of subcommoner marriages. Subcommoners lack property to want to protect from subdivision by limiting births. Tamang has been settled for at least 15 generations. Population pressure is so severe that community members are no longer willing to take time from their own fields, gardens, and herds to mend village trails or to do other community work without pay. Nonetheless, with 95% still owning at least some land, Tamang shows little polyandry. Ladog has about 1.3 hectares of cropland per household. There has been little population growth since about 1868 because available land was taken up by then. Ladog averages about 1.6 husbands per woman and loses fewer children by age 5 than Rongphug or Gyaling. Rongphug has only 0.5 hectares of cropland per household. Its population became dependent on trade with Tibet, but after the Communists took over Tibet, its families had to send members out as seasonal laborers. Rongphug averages 1.3 husbands per woman, has more divorce than Ladog, and loses by far the most children by age 5. Gyaling has 1.2 hectares of cropland per household. Its population is just reaching the kind of saturation level known for more than a century in Ladog, having grown by two-thirds from 1868 to 1983. Gyaling averages 1.2 husbands per woman, has more divorce than Ladog, and loses only a few more of its children than Ladog before age 5. It also shows the least

son preference, apparently fearing more fragmentation of land, whereas Ladog shows the most son preference. Chumik has a number of never-wed women, though fewer never-wed men. Of women aged 45 or over, 28% have not married. Of women aged 35 or over,

9% have vowed celibacy, as have 7% of men 35 or over. Most never-wed women remain in the family home to help in the fields and around the house,

332 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT and most are subcommoners. Commoner and subcommoner men use ritualized bride-capture to seek higher-status brides, paying the family a fee if the woman accepts the man’s marriage offer after one night (for an aristocrat ora young nun) or two nights (for a commoner) with the women of the man’s family. If the woman refuses, she must be returned. Almost 27% of first marriages are by capture, almost 30% by prearranged elopement, and only 44% by pa-

rental arrangement. Marriage age for men averages 21, if being a younger member in a polyandrous marriage is counted, but 22.3 if it is not. Divorce is fairly common, 20% of ever-wed men and 25% of ever-wed women having divorced. Another 10% of men have left a polyandrous marriage to form their own. Remarriage is less common, having been experienced by only 11% of ever-wed women and 27% of ever-wed men (counting those who move out of

polyandry). Most households remain two-generation (63%), but 22% are three-generation or more. As with Jaunsari polyandrists of north India (Nag, in Nag, II] 1975), number of husbands scarcely affects a woman’s fertility, in Chumik or the others. In Tamang, with 41.6% of first marriages arranged, women’s mean marriage age in arranged first marriages is 18, with a year’s delay before co-habitation. Women’s average age at marriage for arranged remarriages after widowing or divorcing is 22.1. For marriages by choice, which sometimes involve premari-

tal pregnancy, 20.99 is women’s mean first-marriage age (21.02 for cohabitation) and 22.72 is the mean remarriage age. An average of 5.25 children have been born to women aged 45 or over, reflecting a normal minimum of three years of lactation and periodic marital separations in transhumant life. With fully two in three reaching age 20 despite 20.4% infant mor-

tality, Tamang numbers are apt to keep growing. Son-preferring Ladog shows 19.4% male and 24.2% female infant mortality, losing 30.2% of males and 33.3% of females through age 4. Gyaling loses 20.4% of male and 18.5% of female infants, and 32.3% of males and 32.1% of

females through age 4. Land-short Rongphug loses 25.5% of males and 27.1% of females in the first year, even more than the others, and a stark 91.1% of males and 43.5% of females through age 4. In all of them, women may have one or two brief unions before marrying stably. That happens most often in Rongphug, where women’s lasting unions begin at 22 on average; next most often in Ladog, the most polyandrous, where women’s lasting unions begin at 20 on average; and least often in Gyaling, slightly less polyandrous than Rongphug, where lasting unions for women begin at about 19. In all of them, certain types of children are especially at risk, though degree of risk varies with specific circumstances. Girls are at risk, unless firstborns, born after several sons, or possible sole heirs because earlier children are dead. Compared with boys, girls are at most risk in Ladog. Boys with healthy older brothers also may be at risk, especially in crowded Rongphug. Illegitimate children of either sex—not unusual, with early, unstable unions—are very much at risk. Children in unstable marriages also are at risk from a husband or

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 333 his kin, if they really want a woman to go. One woman left a marriage when her mother-in-law killed her child. Gyaling villagers clearly are on the edge between providing for themselves and depending on seeking work from unknown employers outside the community. They have not yet shifted to selective neglect of girls. Land-short Rongphug has already changed from combining herding and agriculture with trade to combining herding and agriculture with outside work, having lost its former trade with Tibet. Rongphug villagers show relatively early marriage, high fertility, and high early life mortality, with boys at most risk after the first year and girls at more risk in the first year. Ladog, having reached its limit for self-sufficiency more than a century ago, keeps down its daughters in particular, as part of keeping numbers down, and marries women later than the others. Yet even in Ladog, many sons are not welcome, and all the potentially healthy do not survive. In overcrowded Rongphug, with its many unstable first unions, firstborns are at some risk. Only 42% of firstborns born after 1967 were still living in 1983, to 57% of laterborns born after 1967. In Ladog, 58% of firstborns and 59% of laterborns born after 1967 were still alive in 1983. In Gyaling, 58% of firstborns and 62% of laterborns born after 1967 were still living in 1983. Whether by later marriage, nonremarriage of widows, spousal separation, abstinence, contraception, neglect, or infanticide, most South Asians and Chinese have historically sought to limit numbers to apparent carrying capacity, like Tibetans in Nepal. Commercial expansion in the past 200 years brought opportunities and also pressures that have spurred population growth, much as in other world regions. Technological advances, ranging from building railways and applying the new germ theory of disease in the 19th century to building nuclear power plants and introducing chemical pesticides and fertilizers in the 20th, have helped to improve life even while some of their by-products prove disruptive. More pressured than most other peoples, having gone from already great density to even greater density, Chinese, Indians, and most other South Asians see themselves as more like Rongphug than Gyaling or Ladog. No longer able to sustain themselves without entering into potentially unequal bargains with powerful outsiders, they must keep numbers down or risk reversal of previous livelihood advances. They also need to keep their natural environments from more deforestation and erosion to provide for those already living. Even their agriculture increases the atmospheric warming that concerns many environmental scientists, for both work animals and rice paddies give off large amounts of methane, which increases atmospheric warming, as does carbon dioxide given off by industries burning fossil fuels. The late 1980s discovery in a laboratory in India of a way to bring the fast-growing and useful bamboo to flower and propagate more often than once a century may prove immeasurably helpful to environmental recovery. Realization of the need to protect air, water, and soil from chemical contamination has been spurred by India’s 1984 Bhopal tragedy and by the less dramatic but more threatening re-

334 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ality that 75% of India’s water supply needs treatment for chemical or bacterial pollution. Recognition of the risks that go with large-scale irrigation and hydroelectric projects has been improved by debate among hydraulic and civil engineers in China over whether to supplement the existing dam across the Yangzi with smaller dams on upper tributaries or build an even bigger one.

Greater attention to diverting floodwaters into supplementary channels, rather than relying primarily on reservoirs and dams for flood control, was the major result.

Families must respond to these larger considerations, as well as to their members’ needs. In China and South Asia, as in every region of the world, they need to adjust older patterns (developed when about one in three deaths took children and another one in three took those in early to middle adult life) to the growing concentration of most deaths in later years. The serial-stem family now spreading in South Asia is one response. The associative family found on Taiwan and the Chinese mainland is another, perhaps better suited where currently fertile couples are already close to bearing only two. The drive

to lower births through contraception and voluntary sterilization is yet another, in which longstanding cultural patterns matter. Witness the far greater use of vasectomy in India, which traditionally admired both male and female

abstinence, than in China. Yet in both regions, new contraceptive forms merely extend old habits of seeking ways to limit how many become members

of the household and the numerous community. Most Southeast Asians have not used harsh means to limit numbers, mainly relying on late marriage, abstinence, and contraception; but Japanese and Koreans have historically used both neglect and infanticide. Koreans came to show as high a son preference as Chinese. Japanese were likelier to want a daughter before a son, to help care for him, sometimes even strongly enough to kill a firstborn infant son and wait for a daughter. In modern times, Japanese, Koreans, and more and more Southeast Asians have been bringing down

their fertility through modern contraception as rapidly as Chinese. The Japanese are first in the world to face the issues of a rapidly aging society. Japanese, Koreans, and Southeast Asians, like some Chinese, all seem to be moving toward associative stem families—parents with a married offspring close at hand, but only acting as a single unit in voluntary ways—to cope with those issues without walling off the genuinely helpless aged into institutional oblivion or moving the functioning aged into age-segregated communities, much as South Asians and other Chinese seem to be moving toward serialstem families. The next chapter explores these developments.

oC Chapter 9 Southeast Asia, Korea, and Japan Southeast Asia and Korea, though not Japan, had relatively small populations at the opening of the era of world cities. McEvedy and Jones (III 1978) suggest about 18.5 million for Southeast Asia, as large as South Asia though with less level land. South Asia’s population was probably five times Southeast Asia’s in 1500. Southeast Asia also is about half the size of Europe, which in 1500 had much more than four times as many people. Japan, far smaller, had nearly as many as Southeast Asia, with probably 16 to 17 million, more than the considerably larger area of France in 1500. Korea probably had about 4 million, fewer than comparably sized Great Britain. Portugal alone held as

many people as the Malay peninsula in 1500. By 1850, Portugal had three times as many people as the Malay peninsula, just before large numbers of Chinese and Indian immigrants began going to Malay lands. Great Britain by 1850 had more than twice as many as Korea. Such figures help to explain how

European powers could establish themselves in Southeast Asia, and how Japan’s reunifiers after 16th-century strife could be alarmed enough to want to end almost all foreign contacts after 1600 so as to avoid being taken over like the nearby Philippines or like much of Indonesia and the Malay peninsula. In 1600, Japan held 20 to 22 million people, Korea about 5 million, and all of Southeast Asia about 21 million. The five European states then active in East

and Southeast Asian waters—Spain, Portugal, France, Britain, and the Netherlands—held about 35.5 million. In 1700, Japan held almost 30 million, Korea just over 6 million, and Southeast Asia about 24 million, having gone through many local wars and grown more slowly than unified Japan. The five European states then held about 41 million. In 1800, Japan still held about 30 million. Korea had risen to 7.5 million, and Southeast Asia to about 31.5 million. The five European states still far outnumbered either Japan or

336 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Southeast Asia, with about 56 million. In 1850, with Japan at about 32 million, Korea about 9 million, and Southeast Asia beginning to climb more rapidly at 42 million, those five European states held fully 78 million, almost as many as Japan, Korea, and Southeast Asia put together. By then, Portugal had long since lost its last Southeast Asian land base. Portuguese could only trade in Southeast Asia with rulers’ permission, but they still held Goa in west India and Macau in south China. In 1900, just after the United States forced Spain from the Philippines in 1898, the proportions were Japan 45 million, Korea 12 million, Southeast Asia 83 million, and the five European states 106.5 million. Western European fertility decline meant that the five European states held only 146 million in 1950, to 84 million in Japan, 30 million in Korea, and another doubling in Southeast Asia to 177 million. Southeast Asia continued to receive some Chinese and Indian immigrants, most of them before World War II. By 1975, Southeast Asia held about 314 million, having only recently begun to slow its population growth. Japan and Korea, having slowed their growth slightly earlier, held about 110 and 50 million, respectively, in 1975 (about 120 and 60 in

1985), whereas the five European states held about 163 million in 1975 (about 170 million in 1985). For the first time, the five European states held only about as many people as Japan and Korea together, whereas Southeast Asia’s population surpassed the 305 million in all of northwest Europe— France, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, Scandinavia, the Lowlands, and the British Isles. Southeast Asia’s regions experienced a changeover in the late 18th to early 19th century from slow population growth to more rapid growth based on falling mortality, and another changeover in the late 19th century to slower growth coming from worsening mortality (Xenos, XVII 1990), paralleling India’s turning points at about 1820 and 1890 (Dyson, in Dyson, XV 1989). As in India, so in Southeast Asia, population growth speeded up when downturns in mortality led to higher fertilities in the 20th century; but Southeast Asia has moved much more rapidly than India toward fertility control and far slower growth. It is a general sequence followed around the world since 1800, as the age of world cities makes the globe a village in which what happens everywhere influences everyone, in varying degree and with varying directness. Within Southeast Asia, Burma or Myanmar (as it renamed itself in 1989) grew rather slowly, for its women married relatively late (Reid, XVII 1988). It grew only from about 4 million in 1500 to 12.5 million in 1900, but reached 30 million by 1975 and 35 million by 1985. Laos and Kampuchea/Cambodia grew even more slowly. Laos held about 0.4 million in 1500, 1.5 million in 1900, 3.25 million in 1975, and 3.6 million by 1985. Kampuchea/Cambodia held about 1.5 million in 1500, only 2.5 million in 1900 after 400 years of wartime losses, about 8 million in 1975 just before the Khmer Rouge slaughter of potential opponents, and perhaps as few as 6 million in 1985. Thailand grew more rapidly, from 2 million in 1500 to 7 million in 1900 and 42 million in

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 337 1975, after which its growth slowed greatly. By 1985, Thailand’s population was approaching 50 million. Vietnam also held 2 million in 1500 but grew to 11.5 million by 1900 and 44 million in 1975, approaching 60 million by 1985. Malaysia, with its many late-19th- and early-20th-century immigrants, grew rapidly after going from 0.25 million in 1500 to 1 million in 1850—2 million

in 1900 and fully 15 million in 1975—before its growth slowed like Thailand’s. The Philippines grew most rapidly of all, from 0.5 million in 1500 to 8 million in 1900 and 42 million in 1975, approaching 60 million by 1985. The region’s giant, Indonesia, with 7.75 million in 1500, only reached 16 million by 1850. Then its population soared to 38 million in 1900, 130 million in 1975, and already 148 million by 1980, after which its growth began to slow. Yet Indonesia’s growth rate was slower than in Thailand, Vietnam, or the Phil-

ippines, for Indonesian women continued to lactate and abstain as long as many west Africans. Southeast Asia’s total population was still only about 40% of South Asia’s in the post-1945 era. Southeast Asia plus Korea and Japan held about as many people in the late 20th century, in about the same area, as western and central Europe. Growth in pre-19th-century Southeast Asia, Korea, and Japan was slowed by disease—endemic malaria and periodic epidemics of smallpox, measles, and dysentery, laced with plaque in Indonesia (and possibly elsewhere) and topped off in the 19th century with cholera. Another factor was local wars or external invasions, which continued through the 16th century in Japan, into the 17th in Korea, and on through to the 19th in Southeast Asia. In Southeast

Asia, the lactation and abstinence that accompanied its widespread matrilineality, duolineality, and bilaterality may have mattered even more. Par-

allel practices may well have lingered in Korea even after its conversion to Confucian-style patrilineality, in view of the fact that Korea’s population took

400 years to triple (1500 to 1900), rather than 300 as in China (1500 to 1800). The difference also may illustrate a difference in degree of caution about crowdedness between peninsular and mainland peoples. Then Korea quadrupled in only 75 years from 1900 to 1975, under the initial impetus of foreign domination. Meanwhile China took 175 years from 1800 to 1975 to pass the billion mark by slightly more than tripling. Koreans probably did not use infanticide, as Japanese clearly did in the 18th and early 19th centuries to keep numbers almost steady, for Korean numbers steadily increased in proportion to Japanese numbers during the era when Japanese used what they termed maboko or thinning, as with growing plants. Koreans numbered less than a fourth as many as Japanese from 1500 to 1700, a little more than a fourth by 1800, and well over a fourth in 1850. From 1850 to 1900, when Japanese were no longer using thinning, Japanese numbers grew slightly more rapidly than Korean numbers. Then Korean numbers grew more rapidly, once Koreans had to meet Japanese colonial demands for labor. Confucian ideology also imposed patrilineality on Vietnamese. Any traditional constraints there must have been undercut even before French conquest in the

338 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 19th century, if its population tripled from 1500 to 1800, like China’s. Vietnam went through far more local conflicts than Korea in that period, which may have meant more pressure for births from patrilineages. Thanks to relatively slow population growth in Southeast Asia, Korea, and Japan, they had far less deforestation than South Asia and China between 1500 and 1900. In Southeast Asia, though not in Korea or Japan, new river valley fields for cultivation were available until well into the 20th century, and swidden agriculture could still be practiced in hilly regions. Most of Japan, Korea, and Southeast Asia continued to be well wooded throughout the 20th century, despite heavy cutting for world markets in Southeast Asia (in teak forests in northern Burma and Thailand and in rainforests in Indonesia). The climate remained more reliably moist even in interior areas than in longdeforested northern plains in India and China. As commerce and industry grew, expanded mining could bring major local pollution problems like those at early-20th-century Japan’s Ashio copper mines. Pollution from Japan’s expanded industry became a major factor in post-1970 movements of Japanese manufacturing plants into countries less crowded and often less well regulated. As chemical use expanded in agriculture, so did pollution-linked degenerative disease. Defoliants used by United States forces during the late 1960s in much of Vietnam to deprive guerrillas of forest cover posed special problems there after the war. Still, others’ earlier experience alerted both peoples and governments to be on guard. The post-1970 movements abroad of Japanese manufacturing plants were spurred in part by strong environmental legislation enacted at popular insistence and firmly upheld in the courts. In 1989, the workings of the global village brought a large United States paper products company to decide on using more recycled paper rather than replacing Indonesian rainforest with a eucalyptus plantation, in response to letters and petitions from the United States and around the world, while a British company was similarly pressed not to replace Thai rainforest with eucalyptus. The requests were given added point when water-greedy eucalyptus were yanked up in southern Florida in 1989, as destructive to other plants and, therefore, to animals. Slow population growth facilitated maintenance of longstanding family patterns until faster growth and colonial rule forced change. The persistence of a stem-family pattern in Southeast Asia and its appearance in Japan in the 17th and 18th centuries contrast with the continuance in South Asia and China of large units of father and sons until at least the 1950s. Korea also turned to a stem-family pattern once Japan broke up large lineage-based family groupings when it took control of Korea after 1905. Customary Japanese, Korean, and Southeast Asian family patterns also included monogamy for most, as in China and most of South Asia. Yet widows could remarry, at least in South-

east Asia and Japan. Divorce and delay until remarriage, not widow nonremarriage, helped to limit fertility while also easing household strains. Partner self-selection for those below the elite was real in both Japan and

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 339 Southeast Asia (though less real in more Confucianized Korea), for most women married later than in China or South Asia. All these factors link Southeast Asia, Korea, and Japan. Like China, they also made less use of hereditary castes than did India. Descendants of Southeast Asian ruling families normally moved down to commoner rank as the generations passed, for example. There were exceptions. Until Japan seized Korea, Koreans maintained a broad distinction between elite and commoners. During the 17th to mid-19th centuries, Japan’s rulers tried to keep occupational groups hereditary. Yet adoption between levels greatly mitigated the

regulations’ effects, except for the lowest level, the burakumin, who performed tasks associated in India with unclean laborers in the caste system.

Communal land allocation systems prevailed in most of Southeast Asia until Europeans came and refused to recognize them, much as in most of Africa. Korea’s land was controlled by its hereditary elite; Japan’s, by its post1600 reunifiers. Still, Korean and Japanese cultivators were tied to the land by systems that put relatively fixed demands on them, not rapidly increasing ones. Thus pressure for rapid population growth remained low in all these areas until the late 19th and early 20th centuries, when the great world cities of Europe and North America came into their fullest control over the economies of other regions. The rapid growth of those years was partly a response to resulting labor demands, as well as a natural result of declines in mortality (especially infant mortality) once public health and sanitation began improving everywhere. Yet unlike corresponding growth in pre-A.D. 0 India and China (slower, but more nearly saturating the then available resources), this growth was checked. The 20th century saw country after country begin to limit births. Though different countries’ people did so under varying degrees of population pressure, observers marveled at how rapidly most of them lowered fertility once the fall began. The first countries to be looked at are Thailand (the only Southeast Asian state not ruled by foreigners by 1900) and its eastern and western neighbors. Next come Indonesia, its Malaysian neighbors, and the Philippines, the region longest under colonial rule. Then come Korea (whose imperial overlord from 1905 to 1945 was its Japanese neighbor) and, finally, Japan, which briefly occupied most of Southeast Asia in 1941-45 only to be occupied in turn by United States forces in 1945-51. All thus share some recent experience either with direct foreign occupation or with strong foreign influence. Thailand was known as Siam until the 1930s. Then the nationalist movement that made it a constitutional rather than an absolute monarchy proudly renamed it “Land of the Free,” as a sovereign state surrounded by Britishruled Burma and Malaya; French-controlled Laos, Kampuchea/Cambodia, and Vietnam; Dutch-ruled Indonesia; and the Philippines, to which the United States only promised independence in 1936. In the 16th to mid-19th century, Siam held only half its Burmese neighbor’s numbers, and was at first frequently overrun by the expansion-minded Burmese. At the end of the 18th

340 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT century, Siam entered its own expansionist period. For those in Siam’s border areas with Burma, Laos, Kampuchea/Cambodia, and the Malay peninsula, it made little difference who marched first, who overran them more often, or

who won. All over campaign-plagued precolonial Southeast Asia women probably thought it wise to use not only long lactation, but also as much absti-

nence as they could persuade their husbands to practice through following Buddhist or Muslim modes of self-discipline, to minimize the likelihood of having more than one child too young to flee invaders (Reid, in Owen, XVII 1987). Whether the Thai doubled from 2 to 4 million between 1500 and 1800 (McEvedy and Jones, III 1978), or went from 2.2 million in 1600 to 3.5 million in 1800 (Reid, in Qwen, XVII 1987a), or went from 2.7 million in 1830 to

almost 20 million by 1954 (Fisher, XVII 1984), Thai numbers clearly exploded only after 1850. Annual growth may have risen to 1.3% by the 1860s, and may have been 3% by the 1890s (Reid, in Owen, XVII 1987a), but those estimates are based on local population counts, some of which included slaves

whereas others did not. Either to the degree that everyone was finally counted, or to the degree that slavery may have checked fertility as in African

slave or slaveholding societies, Siam’s post-1850 spurt may reflect a new king’s abolition of slavery after 1868. He also replaced the former system of feudal vassals with centralized tax collection, substituting assessments set in the capital Bangkok for somewhat negotiable tributes. Because these assessments usually were increased locally by whatever the collectors’ feudal predecessors were used to keeping, despite strong royal efforts to prevent that, most

ordinary taxpayers had to pay more than before. Thus households probably wanted more workers, spurring population growth. Vaccination’s lessening of smallpox, which had cut back population in 1621-23, 1659, and 1682 before becoming endemic, also played a part. Women in Siam may have continued to marry at about 20 until the 19th century (Reid, in Owen, XVII 1987). As in all of Southeast Asia, elite members married their daughters early to avoid unwanted husbands, like statusprotecting Indian or Sri Lankan caste members. Greater survival to women’s and men’s marriage ages and then to later ages would increase population without shortening lactation or abstinence, even if marriage ages rose slightly by the early 20th century to a little over 20 for women and 22 or 23 for men (Knodel and others, XVII 1984). However, Thai women in the 1970s observed less than six months of abstinence (Suchart, XVII 1985). Any previous use of abstinence to space births must have diminished notably after 1850. Lactation might continue for two years or until the next birth, but without abstinence, amenorrhea normally would end after 17 months. Intervals could, therefore, decline well below the three or more years noted by 16th-century European travelers in Southeast Asia as a whole (Reid, XVII 1988). Mild dimi-

nution in the Buddhist establishment’s prominence, as Thai turned more to commerce and less to ceremony and ritual, probably also lessened celibacy for

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 341 both sexes. Still, Thailand’s celibacy rates in 1970 were noticeably above South Asia’s or China’s—5.5% for urban women and 5.7% for urban men, twice as high as 2.7% for rural women and 2.8% for rural men. Singulate mean marriage age remained under 25 for both sexes, except in Bangkok (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980). Birth expectancies for both sexes in Thailand passed 60 before 1980, as infant mortality gradually declined to 10.2% of rural infants and 6.1% of those born to educated two-earner metropolitan couples (Ruzicka, in Jones, XIV 1984), reaching 3.9% overall by 1985-90 (United Nations, III 1989). Average Thai households in 1960 included 3.12 adults and 2.52 children aged 0 to 14 (Kuznets, III] 1978). In 1972-73, a sample of wives married more than ten years who remembered losing children bore more than enough to make up

the difference between themselves and those who had lost none (Pitaktepsombate, in Arce and Alvarez, XVII 1983), averaging 2.4 more for 1 lost in rural areas and 2.1 more for 1 lost in urban areas. Overall average births were 6.5 in rural areas and 5.1 in urban areas, to 5.7 rural and 4.5 urban for those with no loss. Expectation of later support affected births also. In the 1972-73 urban sample, with 5.3 average births for those responding to this question, those who expected children to support them in old age averaged 5.8, those who were unsure but hopeful averaged 5.4, those who were unsure but doubtful averaged 5.0, and those who did not expect support averaged only 4.7. This neat progression strongly supports the hypothesis that more concern for saving for one’s own old age means having fewer children. The women’s almost even balance between certainty and uncertainty seems prudent rather than overoptimistic, since in 1982, 44.8% of Thailand’s women aged 60 or over were in three-generation households. That figure even rose to 51.7% in 1986, more even than Japan with 42.4% in both years, let alone the United States with 1.9% in 1982 and 0.5% in 1986 (Atoh, XIX 1988). Another sample survey of couples in which the wife was aged 15 to 44 in the late 1970s showed about one in five ethnically Thai couples aiding kin (Suchart, XVII 1985). Slightly more of the small Thai Muslim group along the Malay border, slightly fewer of the few other Muslims in other areas (some of them resident aliens), and noticeably more though still under 25% of ethnically Chinese Thai also were aiding kin. Thai remain accustomed to spouses not being constantly together, if one or the other is called to an aged relative’s house or goes to aid a sibling (or later in life a child) in time of need. The fact that more Lua and

Karen away from their native highlands (currently in the central basin or in suburban areas) were in families with three or more generations after 1980 than before 1970 also suggests that the aged continue to be kept within the family circle (Kunstadter, in Netting and others, III 1984), though overall decline in percentage of three-generation households in the same central region during the same period (Chamrathrithirong and others, XVII 1986) counsels enough caution to encourage prudence. Variations in kin aid among ethnic Thai, Thai Muslims, other Muslims, and

342 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT ethnically Chinese Thai show that how people live, bear, and die can be affected by ethnicity, which may involve religious difference. Most north Thailand hill peoples have far higher infant mortalities than Thai in the center

(United Nations, III 1985), largely from lack of health services. Yet the Hmong have used what is available well enough to enjoy lower infant mortality than Thai in the plains by the late 1980s (Kunstadter and others, XVII 1990). Hmong customarily give lactating mothers a protein-rich high-fat diet, unlike Karen in the western hills, who only feed them rice, salt, and peppers. Though peppers are a good source of needed calcium, Karen would lack protein. The Hmong clearly wanted children, but not all northerners did. A study in the northern provinces of Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai found that a child’s survival definitely depended on whether both parents really wanted the birth (Frenzen and Hogan, XVII 1982). High infant mortality among Thai Muslims in the south continues to mean

high fertility as they seek to replace those lost. They also are conscious of being in a minority, as are Thailand’s other Muslims (Suchart, XVII 1985). That has made them less receptive than the Buddhist majority to government

promotion of family limitation as population soared and a newly crowded countryside began sending surplus people to cities. In 1965-70, natural increase provided 45% of urban growth, in-migrants 43%, and newcomers’ natural increase 12% (Kingkade and Fulton, XVII 1980). Muslims have main-

tained relatively early marriage ages for both sexes (Suchart, XVII 1985). They are likelier than other groups to see the parents arrange the first marriage, though Thai Muslims are more like ethnic Thai and ethnically Chinese Thai in this than are Thailand’s other Muslims. Thai Muslims may have fewer marriages arranged by parents than urban Thai Chinese women or rural Thai Chinese men. In the 1970s, Thai women aged 45 to 49 averaged 5.88 live births. Thai Chinese women aged 45 to 49, probably more concerned than Thai to educate their offspring for a life of commerce, averaged 4.79. Rural Thai Muslims averaged 6.86 and the few rural other Muslims averaged 8.0, perhaps being even more conscious of minority status among non-Muslim neighbors than Thai Muslims in their own villages in the south. Survivorship for rural Thai Muslims probably resembled that of Karen and Lua in the 1960s, with about 60% for the Lua to about 65% for the Karen still living when surveyed (Kunstadter, in Netting and others, III 1984). Karen had borne more before Bangkok released them from previous rent payments to the Lua. Lua had borne fewer and lost more, perhaps concerned to limit those for whom a properly elite upbringing must be provided. Fertility levels remained high well into the 1960s, but then dramatically dropped by fully 40% from the late 1960s to the early 1980s. As Thailand began industrializing, new jobs opened up away from home for the young and marriage ages rose from singulate means of 22 for women and 24.7 for men in 1970 (Smith/Xenox, XIV 1980). Both young men and young women could see advantages in leaving home to work, saving, meeting new people, having

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 343 more varied experiences, and marrying somewhat later than before. Moreover, Thai cultural and religious traditions did not limit women to household activity. By 1980, couples were choosing the number of their children rather than depending on chance. In view of Thai women’s customary autonomy, most couples made that decision in a genuinely joint way. This fit Thais’ bilateral social organization. A young Thai couple was at least as apt to start married life with the bride’s parents as with the groom’s, until children’s arrival and a younger sibling’s marriage combined to bring departure, in a serial-stem pattern that also was a delayed form of neolocality. Conversations with both older and younger people in both rural and suburban settings in late 1982 and early 1983 illuminate the reasoning behind rapid fertility decline not only in

Thailand but elsewhere. Both generations gave seven reasons for wanting fewer children. Child-rearing cost has risen with general living cost. People want to spend more of their income on things other than rearing children. Schooling is an expense, yet it is needed for better jobs, which everyone wants children to obtain. Land is getting scarce, and rural people cannot be sure all their children can get it. Children help around the household less than before, being at school much of the day during most of the year. A few well-off children will be better able to aid older parents, if needed, than more but less welloff children. Above all, more children live to adulthood than before, making it unnecessary to have more than one wants for one’s own later years (Knodel and others, XVII 1984). Burmese were somewhat slower to take up new ways to limit fertility. They did not grow as rapidly as Thai, either before or after 1800 (Reid, in Owen, XVII 1987a), and by 1975 were far behind Thai in numbers. They maintained customarily high celibacy levels through the colonial era, judging from studies done before Myanmar chose isolation as a protection from rivalry between India and China. One 1952 sample showed 8.5% of both men and women aged 55 to 64 having never wed (Hauser and Kitagawa, in Spengler and Duncan, III 1956). Data from 1953 showed 7.8% of women and 6.6% of men never marrying (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980). Burmese also maintained relatively late marriage for women and customary levels of lactation and abstinence, a virtue much admired in Buddhist Burma. That was unusual in a colonized area; but Britain’s combination of Burma with its Indian domains meant that Indian laborers came in gladly as cultivators and plantation workers, lessening pressures for more laborers that Burmese might otherwise have felt. Still, growth took place, as mortality declined and those who married survived longer and bore more. By 1986, Burma’s annual increase was South-

east Asia’s highest at 2.74% (United Nations, III 1989), compared with 2.49% in Laos, 2.48% in Kampuchea/Cambodia, 2.24% in Vietnam, 1.53%

in Thailand, 1.62% in Indonesia, 2.31% in Malaysia, and 2.55% in the Philippines. Laotians and Khmer or Cambodians were no quicker than Burmese to take up new ways to limit births. Their life expectancies were lower and their rice

344 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT lands uncrowded, compared with south and especially north Vietnam. Laotian birth expectancies remained in the early 40s throughout the 1960s and 1970s. They were still only in the late 40s at the end of the 1980s, along with those of Kampuchea/Cambodia. Of the world’s 25 lowest life expectancy countries, only Laos and Kampuchea/Cambodia were east of India in Asia as the 1980s ended. Each Laotian had twice as much riceland as a south Vietnamese, or almost 3.5 times as much as a north Vietnamese. Before Khmer Rouge slaughters of suspected opponents in the 1970s, Khmer had about 1.4 times as much as south Vietnamese or 2.3 times as much as north Vietnam-

ese, and even more afterward for the survivors. Both peoples, therefore, seemed to remain content with established patterns of marriage at close to 20 for women, long lactation, and moderate abstinence. Before reunification in 1975, Vietnamese experienced 30 years of increasing warfare with only a few breathing spells. They had already suffered losses in the 19th and early 20th centuries, struggling unsuccessfully to resist French control. Vietnamese grew about as much as Khmer and more than Laotians,

more than doubling from 1900 to 1950. Between 1950 and 1975, none of these peoples doubled, as those of Thailand and the Philippines doubled, for each was devastated in its own way by the warfare that began as Japanese withdrew in 1945 and escalated rapidly after full-scale United States involvement in 1965. Wartime dislocations and deaths skewed both age and sex ratios in Vietnam’s cities and countryside alike. Birth expectancy remained low, barely passing 50 by the late 1980s, as infant mortality declined to about 6%, or roughly half the levels of Laos and Kampuchea/Cambodia. Periodic outpourings of boat people after 1975, seeking greater opportunity and safety, suggest that Vietnam’s already crowded ricelands had become oversaturated in the colonial and postcolonial era. Not only ethnic Chinese left, to escape socialist rulers’ antagonism to them as petty traders and entre-

preneurs. Urban Vietnamese (sent from war-damaged cities into a toocrowded countryside) and even some rural Vietnamese sought to leave too. Trying to rebuild war-destroyed irrigation works and to reverse other wartime damages, particularly in areas where defoliant chemicals had been used, made life hard enough for many people to drive them to flee. During ten centuries of Chinese rule in north Vietnam, Vietnamese grew in number enough to push their Khmer neighbors ever farther southward after A.D. 1000, finally forcing the Khmer inland from the Mekong delta between 1500 and 1800. During French rule, when they had to pay French-imposed

taxes and provide French-required labor, Vietnamese increased by just a shade more than Khmer, about 225% in 1900-50 to 220% for Khmer and less

than 170% for Laotians farther up the Mekong. Laotians and Khmer remained largely bilateral, but Vietnamese retained Chinese-introduced patrilineal forms into the colonial era. The Napoleonic code began to modify that (at least in cities) by recognizing daughters’ rights. Yet most villagers continued to use a system of periodic redistribution of communal land according

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 345 to household need that probably dated from pre-Chinese times, until Communist rulers substituted a form of communal organization that gave power and responsibility to party leaders rather than village elders. The traditional communal system’s effective denial of automatic inheritance lessened urges to accumulate, or to have more children to help accumulate. It also predisposed many ordinary Vietnamese to prefer what they learned of socialist teaching to what they experienced of European capitalism. When Marxist-Leninist social-

ism came to Vietnam, it sought to end patrilineality, as in China; but as in China, even though women’s opportunity to earn outside the home increased,

they seldom reached men’s status or income level. A similar communal land redistribution system prevailed in Java and much of the rest of Indonesia until the 19th century. Given frequent warfare there and elsewhere in Southeast Asia, such a communal support system’s protection for households was highly valued. Both Vietnamese and Indonesian com-

munal land systems sought to ensure that even if a household lost many members, its land allotment would be enough to live on without being too much to cultivate. This was workable where new land could still be cleared and used as a village’s population grew, even with labor-intensive wet-rice cultivation. It gave a sense of security, yet it gave no individual or household lasting claims that could lead to socioeconomic differentiation. It strove to avert situa-

tions in which some could require others to labor for them, rather than exchange labor with them. To the degree that it succeeded, no household felt its labor needs increasing to the point of wanting higher fertility, which may have dampened population growth at least as much as intermittent local wars or

smallpox and plague epidemics. |

The plague visited Java in its bubonic form in 1665 and probably in its even deadlier pneumonic form in 1675-76. As for wars, heavy fighting on Java in 36 of the 80 years after 1675 meant that population there was almost surely less in 1755 than a century before, perhaps only 3 million in the early 18th

century (Ricklefs, XVII 1986) instead of the 4 million of a century earlier (Reid, in Owen, XVII 1987a), and only 1 million instead of 3 million in central Java as many fled war-torn areas. If so, then estimates for Java of 5 million for

1800 or 6 million for 1830 mean that growth exploded after the victorious Dutch established control and began centralizing government more effectively. Bali may already have been crowded when its rulers reached out to seize Lombok island in 1740 (Fisher, in Cowan, XVII 1964). In 1600, the outer is-

lands (all but Java) had only a few more people than Java (Reid, in Owen, XVII 1987a). Yet population setbacks on Java in 1665-1755 mean that the outer islands probably held at least half again as many as Java in 1800, which

also was half again as many as they themselves had held in 1600. As 16th- and 17th-century visitors to Indonesia noted, care for all those born, long lactation, and fairly lengthy abstinence (at least on Java) meant long spacing and high survival. Women were valued in most areas as bringers

of bridewealth and transmitters of inheritance rights, whether local people

346 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT were matrilineal, like Minangkabau on Sumatra, or bilateral, like Javanese. By

the time the British briefly took Java from the Dutch in 1811-15 during the Napoleonic Wars, one of their agents learned by inquiring among a group of 141 older women that they had lost one in ten children just to smallpox, with only three in eight reaching adulthood. That was in Batavia (today’s Jakarta), however, and cities everywhere before 1900 had far more deaths at all ages than did rural areas. Probably 60% of Javanese infants reached adulthood in the 19th century (McNicoll and Singarimbun, XVII 1983). Sex ratios were moderately high to very high in 18th-century Batavia for almost all groups, whether Europeans, Muslim traders from India and Southwest Asia, Chinese, free Muslim or Hindu Indonesians, or slaves. Only Eurasians and Christian In-

donesians had lower ratios (Spooner, in Glazier and Da Rosa, III 1986). After the 16th century, Islam became the majority religion in most of Indonesia. Only in the extreme east did Christianity win many converts, either to Portuguese-introduced Roman Catholicism or later to Dutch-introduced Protestantism. Indonesian women, therefore, probably married somewhat earlier than Thai, Burmese, Lao, or Knmer women. Muslims everywhere in Southeast Asia married their daughters earlier than did non-Muslims. Premarital pregnancy was more of a disgrace to a woman’s kinsmen among Muslims

than among Buddhists, with their traditions of individual responsibility (Owen, XVII 1987). Marriage ages on Bali with its rich Hindu-Buddhist tradition have been closer to Buddhist than to Hindu patterns, remaining near 18 in the precolonial period. Yet 17th-century aristocrats at the nearby court of

Makassar married their daughters before age 16, concerned to make proper matches before daughters might find inappropriate suitors (Reid, XVII 1988). The court diary that yields this figure shows high early mortality for aristocrats; but if they reached the teens, they usually reached 50. These estimates suggest an elite birth expectancy of about 35, much like the average death age for middle bronze age royalty who reached age 15 in Greece 3,600 years earlier. In a noncrowded society, this suggests in turn that (as in middle bronze age Greece) birth expectancy for commoners may have been nearly as high as for elite among women as well as men in a nonpatrilineal society. If so, it would confirm early modern European observers’ belief that Southeast Asians lived longer than other Asians, or Africans, or indeed any people except the more fortunate among themselves. Southeast Asians could afford to wait for young women to marry, if reaching the teens ordinarily meant reaching the 40s. Because men’s marriages were not delayed by socioeconomic pressures, hus-

bands also could be expected to live until their wives’ reproduction was completed. Long birth intervals were acceptable, with little pressure for a quicker pace. Throughout the region, not just in Indonesia, two years’ lactation appeared to be usual in past centuries. Any earlier patterns of long abstinence accompanying lactation were no longer visible in Thailand, Malaysia, or the Philippines by the time of the 1970s World Fertility Survey. Yet abstinence expectations

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 347 remained firmly enough in place in Indonesia so that women born in 1930-39 abstained an average of 19 months at lower-income levels, 16 at middle levels,

and 13 at upper levels. Even those born in 1940-49 abstained 16 months at lower-income levels, 14 at middle levels, and 11 at upper levels. Formal marriage might come fairly early—a mean of 17 for women born in 1931-45 and marrying mainly in the 1950s and 1960s, ranging from 16.5 for Java to 20.7 for Bali. The mean was 17.4 for those born in 1946-50, ranging from 16.9 for Java to 20.4 for Bali, and 18.3 for those born in 1951-55, with 17.8 for Java and 20.3 for Bali, as socioeconomic patterns throughout the islands began converging after the Dutch were forced to leave (McNicoll and Singarimbun, XVII 1983). Still, variety continued, in an archipelago with 300 ethnic groups practicing Islam, Christianity, Hindu-Buddhism in Bali, Buddhism among some Chinese, Confucianism among other Chinese, and various local religions on Sulawesi and Kalimantan (Tan and Soeradji, XVII 1986). Differing delays in co-habitation, differing durations of lactation and abstinence, and differing levels of divorce and remarriage all contributed to average numbers of births being notably higher for women still in a first marriage of at least 15 years’ duration in 1973—but ranging from 4.45 in urban east Java and 4.54 in rural east Java to 6.68 in urban Sumatra and 6.36 in rural Sumatra—than for women married before 1958 but married more than once, at 3.12 in urban east Java and 3.94 in rural east Java to 5.80 in urban Sumatra and 5.48 in rural Sumatra (National Research Council, XVII 1987). Those divorced or widowed at higher income levels were more apt to remarry, and to do so more quickly, than those at lower levels (Nag, III 1980). Divorce and remarriage rates were highest for those whose parents arranged their marriages, at least on Java, where parents were apt to use an arranged first marriage as an opportunity for display. One district had 73.1% as many divorces as marriages in 1926, but only 16.4% in 1935 during the great worldwide depression. Even in wartime 1943, the figure was back to 48%. By 1952, it was 52%, though fewer marriages were arranged by parents, which suggests that divorce among those in arranged marriages may have stayed constant as well as high (Geertz, XVII 1961). In 1976, 37% of ever-wed Indonesian women aged 40 to 49 had been married more than once, only 28.5% in the few urban areas (where parents arranged fewer marriages) but 38.6% in rural areas. Java showed the highest percentages (44% overall, 31.6% urban, 46.5% rural). As a group, the outer islands averaged 20% for all, 22.1% urban, 19.6% rural; but they ranged from 15.5% for all (12% urban, 16.5%

rural) on Kalimantan to 31.7% for all (20.6% urban, 36.5% rural) on Sumatra, with its large matrilineal Minangkabau population (National Research Council, XVII 1987). A 1971 sample of Minangkabau on Sumatra showed 66.2% having entered arranged first marriages (2.01% of the women and 0.15% of the men unwillingly), to 33.8% having chosen their own first spouse, while men married at 23 or 24 and women at 18 to 20 (Tanius, in Arce and Alvarez, XVII 1983). The 1973 survey of women first married in

348 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 1958 or earlier found that in Java, 30% divorced within ten years of their first marriage (24% within five years). In the outer islands, 20% divorced within ten years (13% within five years). Half of all the divorced women’s marriages

ended within two years (McNicoll and Singarimbun, XVII 1983). In the 1950s, 8.8% of husbands in a Java town and 5.9% in a nearby village had more than one wife (Geertz, XVII 1961). If a small but visible number of men

could divorce a wife and still have another, that could make divorce more likely, especially in a Muslim society in which the man’s declaration of divorce sufficed. With so much variation in marriage duration, mean numbers born to older women could easily range from 7 among generally nondivorcing Chris-

tians on Sulawesi in the 1930 census to only 3.9 (with just 2.2 surviving to 1930) for older women among easily divorcing neighboring followers of preIslamic, pre-Christian local religions (Gardiner and Oey, in Owen, XVII 1987a). Unfortunately, men in the latter group believed that they could cure gonorrhea by having intercourse with a woman who did not have it, which brought high sterility. East and central Java, the poorest and most crowded regions, showed by far the lowest average births in 1973. They became poor and crowded in the 19th century. Java’s total population probably was about 6 million by the time the Dutch decided to require each district to provide set quotas of desired export crops in 1830, but it may have already been 8 million in 1800 (Singarimbun, in Kantner and McCaffrey, XVII 1975). The quota system, or cu/ture system, was gradually given up after 1862 when a retired Dutch colonial official published the novel Max Havelaar. The author appealed to his compatriots to end it because of its apparently unpreventable abuses, both in its demands on local peasants and in its opportunities for others to increase those demands. Unfortunately the post-1870 substitution of plantations on land leased from indige-

nous village officials was no improvement, despite good intentions in the Netherlands. Only genuinely unused land was supposed to be leased; but often the land taken was in the fallow period of a long swidden cycle, as in much of tropical Africa during the 20th century. Many village officials either felt too pressured to refuse or found that they could profit from being bribed to agree. Moreover, plantation workers received low pay. Java’s population was already at least 12 million in 1850, more than 30 million by 1905, almost 42 million in the 1930 census, 54 million by 1954, 63 million by 1961, and more than 91 million in 1980. The ever more crowded Javanese went from

less than half of Indonesia’s people in 1800 to about two-thirds in 1900, where they have stayed ever since (McNicoll and Singarimbun, XVII 1983). Java’s annual growth rate may have risen from about 1.4% to 1.65% between 1800 and 1850, reaching 1.75% in 1850-1900 (Owen, XVII 1987). Only in west Java, where neither culture system nor plantations were fully used, was there slightly less crowding. Java’s population explosion under the culture system appears to be a clas-

sic case of labor demand producing population growth. Meeting quotas

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 349 forced women as well as men to cultivate, to grow food as well as quota crops.

That meant less lactation, less abstinence (which ended with weaning), and shorter birth intervals. Mothers also found older children helpful with chores and minding toddlers (Alexander, in Handwerker, II 1986). In the 1970s, children aged 10 to 12 in a central Java village worked an average of five hours a day, with those having at least two siblings working about an hour longer than those with one or none. In one sugar-quota area in eastern Java in 1840, each household would have had to put 240 workdays a year (almost a full adult’s labor) into quota-linked requirements. In 1836, a remaining sugar-quota district still required the equivalent of 187 days’ work per year per household, and a remaining coffee-quota district’s households needed 150 days. Moreover, in practice, a sugar quota of one-third of a district’s cultivated land in sugar meant almost all the land near the sugar mill and relatively little in more distant villages. People near the mill virtually had to work a double shift to feed themselves, since the quota system treated quotas as tax obligations, not as products to be paid for. They earned no money to buy rice from those farther away who grew more rice and less sugar. They therefore had to adjust in ways like substituting maize for dry-season rice because it took less work to raise. They cut down on weeding. They shifted harvesting to a slightly earlier time, despite losing part of the crop, to have time when the sugar crop needed it. As time went on, they also increased their labor supply, to try to recover per-acre productivity losses through more intensive cultivation by more hands (White, in Nag, III 1975). Ricelands’ output per acre increased between 1837 and 1851, as did per capita output of rice, while enough new terraces were cut into hillsides so that it took until after 1887 for potential riceland to appear short (Gardiner and Oey, in Owen, XVII 1987a). Yet these figures do not state how much other labor peasant households were providing, either under the culture system delivery quotas or in the plantation era when village officials were expected to find workers. Village officials usually tried to ensure that each household would have to give up someone to work for wages that barely sustained life for the worker (leaving little, if anything, to be sent home), but that no household would have to give up more than one or two. Even so, each family had to produce more workers than would have been wanted without the labor quotas. Not only the culture system’s labor demands led to Java’s population explosion. Great cholera epidemics came about every 13 years from 1821 to after 1900, usually killing fully half of those infected (Boomgaard, in Owen, XVII

1987a). That could have raised anxiety about survivorship enough to make each family want more children than before. There also were at least three other factors. First, public health measures such as smallpox vaccination, antirat campaigns like that of 1910-14 against plague, and what was called houseconstruction improvement in 1919-28 increased longevity. To Dutch officials, improvement meant moving kitchens into outbuildings to keep rats away from houses. Though it did that, it also increased malaria by taking mosquito-

350 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT chasing cooking fires out of the house, just as it did on Fiji when the British required it. Yet it also lowered infant mortality (probably because rebuilt houses were easier to keep clean) to a degree still visible in the 1970s in the most fully

rebuilt districts. Next, annual reallocation of communal land diminished as cultivated land became scarcer, leaving households less certain of their future and wanting to add members who could go to nearby towns to work and earn. Then, as annual reallocation diminished, the fortunate and/or manipulative found that they could increase their lands and income. In a society in which being able to afford to feast one’s neighbors always raised one’s social standing, this also pushed toward increasing potential worker-earners (McNicoll and Singarimbun, XVII 1983). Under all these various influences, Java’s population grew more rapidly between 1830 and 1854 than every other part of Southeast Asia except the initially lightly peopled Malay peninsula, to whose tin mines, rubber plantations, and trade both Indian and Chinese immigrants flowed increasingly as European (mainly British) investors moved into the region in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Mounting population put ever heavier burdens on the ability of newly independent Indonesia’s government to provide for its people during the 1960s and early 1970s. Government leaders, therefore, decided to make an all-out effort to reduce births. With little celibacy—only about 1% of older women and 1.8% of older men never having married in 1971 (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980)—and with overall infant mortality declining from almost 17% in 1969 (McNicoll and Singarimbun, XVII 1983) to 11.5% for agricultural-rural couples and only 4.6% for educated two-earner metropolitan couples at the end of the 1970s, birth expectancy rose from the late 30s to the early 50s between 1960 and 1979, increasing reproductive spans (Ruzicka, in Jones, XIV 1984). That threatened explosive growth, unless steps were rapidly taken. Increased life expectancies made possible a gradual rise in marriage age to 19 for all Indonesian women in 1970 (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980), slightly coun-

teracting longer marriage durations and reproductive spans. One group of ever-wed women born in 1920-25 had borne 4.9 children at ages 40 to 45, whereas those born in 1925-30 bore 5.32 and those born in 1930-35 bore 9.52 (McNicoll and Singarimbun, XVII 1983). By 1961-71, total fertility rates for all women were 9.5, with the lowest in abstinence-using Java, despite its relatively early female marriage (McNicoll and Mamas, XVII 1973). The World Fertility Survey found that fertile women married to husbands in agriculture in Indonesia averaged 5.9 births, noticeably fewer than those married to men in other occupations (Boserup, in Coleman and Schofield, III 1986). Rural Indonesian women lactated and abstained more than urban women (Hull, XVIE 1980), with the poorest rural women lactating and abstaining longest. In 1967, children in central Java only reached standard height and weight for Javanese 4-year-olds at age 5 (Singarimbun, in Kantner and McCaffrey,

XVII 1975). That also is part of why the government activated a strong,

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 351 locally based family planning network during the 1970s. Local women volunteers were persuaded to work at answering questions, encouraging contraceptive use, and emphasizing the preferability of fewer but better educated offspring in an increasingly complex modernizing society. Higher-status women welcomed the program as in full accord with their own wish for better educated children, and also for leisure-time activities and consumer goods rather than simply rearing children. Lower-status women accepted it in recognition (already clear from their longer lactation and abstinence) that they lacked the resources to rear as many children as they could bear (Freedman and others, XVII 1981). Orchestrated by government, all types of community networks worked to reduce births. In a society traditionally based on harmony (cooperation, communal sharing) as a primary value, it would have been hard for anyone to resist such efforts, even if they lacked personal reasons to comply. By 1970-75, the total fertility rate was already down to 5.1, and by 1989, to 3.3. Yet rapid population growth continued through the late 1970s because so many were still entering their childbearing years. Growth only began to slow after 1980 (McNicoll and Singarimbun, XVII 1983). Java and Sumatra experienced a decline of more than a sixth in total fertility rate in 1970-79 (McNicoll, XVII 1982). The greatest drop was in Bali, which plunged from 6.5 in the late 1960s to 3.5 in the late 1970s (Streatfield, XVII 1982). Recognition of the limits of an island home was especially real there. Variations in fertility still exist among islands and among ethnic groups within islands. Javanese and Madurese remain low as before. Balinese have

gone from the next to lowest into the very lowest group. Matrilineal Minangkabau and some others remain moderately low. Sundanese and patrilineal north Sumatra Batak remain relatively high, even though they also bear fewer than before (McNicoll and Singarimbun, XVII 1983). Expectations of support in old age may affect these variations, if aid-giving by couples in which the wife was aged 15 to 44 indicates hope for future aid from others. Among groups in general, relatively prolific Sundanese were among the likeliest in non-Chinese groups to be aiding kin, whether in towns or in rural areas. Urban Javanese and Minangkabau even gave a little more often; but far fewer of their rural counterparts did, fitting their relatively low fertility. Urban Batak

gave somewhat more often and rural Batak less often than rural Javanese, who gave more often than rural Minangkabau. Confounding the purity of the progression, but confirming other Indonesians’ belief in the unusual cohesiveness of Indonesian Chinese, unprolific urban Chinese gave most often. None

of the groups surveyed received much as yet, not being aged (Tan and

Soeradji, XVII 1986). | Only urban Indonesian Chinese in that sample had as many as 6% of men in multiple households, though multiple households are only one measure of continuing close family support. For example, Minangkabau in 1971 still placed special reliance on the mamak, the mother’s eldest brother, who made basic family decisions for 51.23% of all the conjugal households in another

352 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT sample (Tanius, in Arce and Alvarez, XVII 1983). More than 40% in one area

(though only about half as many in another) had used income from matrilineage property held in trust and managed by the mamak to help with children’s expenses, which clearly affected their readiness to have children. At that time, before the government’s official limitation program was fully under way, they wanted an average of 6.3, to only 5.1 for those who had not sought such aid. Undoubtedly, having more multiple households contributed to unfounded beliefs that Chinese had more children per couple than any other Indonesian group. Among non-Chinese sampled by Tan and Soeradji (XVII 1986), all urban and rural men and all urban women believed that Chinese had more children than themselves. Rural women saw many children around themselves. Yet even in rural areas, prolific Batak women thought Chinese outdid them, although rural Javanese, Minangkabau, and Sundanese women did not. Indonesian Chinese still seemed foreign to other Indonesians, which made their children seem more visible. Chinese usually are Buddhist, not Muslim; nor is their Buddhism like Bali’s Hindu-Buddhism. A few are Confucian. Even fewer are Christian, Christianity being practiced mainly in Indonesian groups whose forebears were converted by the Portuguese or the Dutch. Malays in Malaysia feel similarly about Chinese being their country’s most prolific ethnic group, with equally little foundation, since Malays themselves have more. Yet even Indians and some Chinese think that Chinese have more children than other Malaysians, partly because more Chinese are in extended families. Malay couples with the wife aged 15 to 44 are more apt than Malaysian Chinese to aid kin outside the household; Indians are least apt to do so (Abu Bakr and others, XVII 1985). Even in the 1980s, elderly Malays could still remember aged grandparents passing on their own grandparents’ descriptions of life before Chinese and Indian contract laborers began streaming into the Malay peninsula. Malays probably remained near 500,000 between 1600 and 1800, as epidemics and wars wiped out any gains (Reid, in Owen, XVII 1987a). By 1850, with immigration beginning, the peninsula may have held a million, rising to 2.5 million by 1900, tripling that by 1950, and doubling yet again by 1975, even though some left for India and Pakistan when they became independent in 1947. Malay Muslims’ high distaste toward pork-eating mainly Buddhist Chinese is compounded by fear of Chinese numbers (almost as great as Malay) and Chinese economic power, as well as by the feeling that Chinese are mere newcomers. Malays tend to ignore mostly Hindu Indians, who do not eat pork (or offend Muslim sensibility by raising pigs) and are a distant third in numbers at about 10%. Malays resent Chinese cooperation with large-scale British merchants, which enabled Chinese to take over most of the peninsula’s local and intermediate trade by the time the British left in 1957. Malays have focused on

controlling the political system and using it to require Chinese to accept Malaysia's postindependence transformation into an officially Islamic state.

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 353 Yet early-marrying Indians (not Chinese) had the highest total fertility rate per

woman aged 15 to 49 in 1947, at 7.9 (Palmore and others, in Kantner and McCaffrey, XVII 1975). Chinese total fertility rate came next at 6.9, whereas the Malay rate was 5.5. By 1970, the standings altered radically. Both Indians

and Chinese saw that their children needed superior educational qualifications for success in a state ruled by Malays. They therefore brought their total fertility rates down to 4.9 for Indians and 4.8 for Chinese, whereas Malays remained near the 1947 level at 5.2. During the 1970s, total fertility rates in the Malay peninsula reached 4.4 for Malays, 3.0 for Chinese, and 3.3 for Indians (Abu Bakr and others, XVII 1985), as Malays themselves began to recognize

the limits of a peninsular homeland. Marriage ages increased for all three groups between 1956 and 1970 (Palmore and others, in Kantner and McCaffrey, XVII 1973), but the increase affected Indian fertility more than Malay or Chinese fertility. Median ages at marriage (which are not skewed upward by the few who marry late) rose for all Malaysians from 16.6 for women and 22.9 for men in 1947 to 21.4 for women and 25.2 for men in 1974, though female median ages only rose from 15.9 to 18.6 in heavily Malay Kelantan state (Jones, XVII 1981). Dramatic declines in infant mortality helped to persuade people to lessen births. By the 1930s, the early-20th-century’s 25% to 40% was down to less than 20% (Manderson, in Owen, XVII 1987a). The late 1970s showed a range of only 4.9% for agricultural-rural couples to 1.8% for educated two-earner metropolitan couples (Kuzicka, in Jones, XIV 1984). With only 1.4% neverwed older women and 3.2% never-wed older men in 1970 (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980), lower infant mortality meant real need to persuade couples to limit births. As average birth expectancy rose from the early 50s to the late 60s between 1960 and 1979 (Ruzicka, in Jones, XIV 1984), widowing lessened, adding at least as many potential births as later first marriages might remove. Gradual replacement of marriages arranged by parents with self-arranged marriages, as marriage ages rose, also may have added to potential births. Not only does it make divorce less likely (Jones, XVII 1981). It also increases the likelihood that a birth will come within 18 months of marriage rather than 24 or more months afterward (Rindfuss and Morgan, XIV 1983). Divorce remained common as late as 1970, when 26.9% of men and 22.9% of women had married more than once. Heavily Muslim Malay Kelantan state showed 44.8% of men and 41.7% of women having done so, to only 15.1% for men and 12.0% for women in another Malaysian state with a much lower Muslim Malay population. More than 93% of Malaysia’s Muslim divorces at that time were by the husband’s pronouncement. The other 7% resulted from the wife using Muslim law to appeal to a Muslim judge to declare her marriage dissolved, usually because the husband broke a clause in the marriage contract. Wives appealed most often to clauses ensuring livelihood or protecting them from physical assault (Jones, XVII 1981).

In East Malaysia (the two large parts of north Kalimantan that Britain

354 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT yielded to Malaysia in 1963 to help Malays outnumber Chinese in that country), fertility has gone down less rapidly than in the Malay peninsula. Live births for older women in three local Malay groups in East Malaysia in 1960 ranged from 5.5 to 6.9, whereas local Chinese averaged only 5.2 (Jones, XVII

1966). Yet celibacy rates in East Malaysia were a little higher than in the peninsula—2.8% for older women and 5.1% for older men in Sabah in 1970 and 3.3% and 4.2% in Sarawak. Small, oil-rich Brunei sultanate, between Sabah and Sarawak, showed 4.9% for women and 5.1% for men (Smith/ Xenos, XIV 1980). Brunei rates may have reflected immigrants seeking opportunity, as nonindigenous residents rose from 4% in 1911 to 23% in 1947 (Jones, XVII 1966). Indigenous East Malaysians still had lower life expectancies in 1980 than West Malaysian Malays, just as East Malaysian Chinese had higher mortalities than West Malaysian Chinese, for public health services were more developed in the Malay peninsula (Leete and Kwok, XVII 1986). Still, East Malaysian Chinese were longer-lived than indigenous East Malaysians, reflecting their usually higher educational and socioeconomic status.

In Singapore, Southeast Asia’s analogue to Hongkong as a thriving Chinese-peopled city-state, birth expectancies were already past 70 (as in Hongkong) by the end of the 1970s and infant mortalities were below 1.2% (Palan and Takeshita, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979). Median female marriage ages also rose from 19.2 for Chinese women married before 1941 to 21.1 for those married in 1955 and 23.6 for those wed in 1966-70. Medians rose from 17.1 before 1941 to 18.4 in 1950-55 and then 20.9 in 1966-70 for the few Malay women, and from 17.1 before 1941 to 18.4 in 1950-55 and then 20.9 in 1966-70 for the few Indian women. The overall increase was from

18.9 for all women married before 1941 to 20.1 for 1950-55 and 23.1 for 1966-70. Celibacy rates in 1970 were 3.1% for older women and 5.9% for older men (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980). Increased longevity meant decrease in widowing for women aged 45 to 49 from 34.8% for 1947 to 26.8% in 1957 and only 14.6% by 1970 (Palan and Takeshita, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979). Singaporeans were ready to begin decreasing fertility as early as the people of Taiwan or Hongkong, soon after 1950, whereas West Malaysians did not begin until after independence in 1957 and East Malaysians did not

begin until after being joined to West Malaysia in 1963. In the 1970s, Singapore’s total fertility rate plummeted from 6.5 in 1967 to mere replacement level at 2.1 (Chang, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979). The Philippines, east of Kalimantan, were just beginning to be influenced in the southwest by Islam when the Spaniards arrived in the 16th century. Yet a small Chinese trading community already existed where the Spaniards placed their capital of Manila on Luzon in the north. The islands probably held less than a million inhabitants around 1600, when Spanish conquest was consolidated in all except partly Muslim Mindanao in the south. How many local peo-

ple died in epidemics is debatable. Because Chinese were present by the 1290s, they would have introduced most, if not all, of the diseases Spaniards

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 355 could have brought. Just south of Luzon are the Visaya islands, whose 16thcentury people were noted for striving not to have more than two surviving heirs (Reid, XVII 1988). The level of 2 to 2.5 million reached by 1800 evidently was still within resource limits, but then annual growth increased to more than 1%, perhaps to as much as 1.65% for most of 1800-75 (Owen, XVII 1987). Evidently that strained local capacities by the 1870s. Almost 30 years of frequent epidemics followed, as endemic malaria and other ills flared up repeatedly into epidemic force. Famine after famine resulted, as weakened localities failed to find workers to grow enough crops to feed a population still growing at about 0.9% a year. Probably three of four deaths were from endemic diseases in their endemic state, and only one in four from true epidemics (Owen, in Owen, XVII 1987a). Still, with epidemic malaria taking as many as 25% of those contracting it (versus 5% in ordinary times), and with malnutrition worsening the effect of contracting either endemic or epidemic disease, the death toll was enormous. The changeover to United States rule after 1898 was followed by greater efforts in public sanitation and health than the declining Spanish empire could attempt. Warfare continued at first, as United States troops put down indigenous independence fighters who initially welcomed them against Spain only to be prevented from establishing the free republic they wanted. The Bikol area in southeast Luzon in 1900-05 suffered one last horrendous round of deaths from a combination of warfare with cholera, smallpox, malaria, beriberi, and death from rinderpest of more than half the work animals needed to plow the fields. In 1850-99, in a group of 40 parishes, only 2 had no mortality crisis or sudden extraordinary jump in mortality. Another 5 had just 1 such crisis, 8 had only 2, 13 had 3 or 4, and 12 had 5 or more, or 143 crises in the 40 parishes, with 75 in the 1880s alone. Commercialization of agriculture and a changeover from communal land tenure to individual ownership were reflected in that upsurge of mortality (Smith/Xenos, XVII 1978). One rural parish’s registers for 1805-20 suggest a birth expectancy of 42, but vastly increased infant and child mortality made its registers for 1900 suggest only

17.5 (Reid, XVII 1988). As in Indonesia and elsewhere, communal land tenure’s demise opened the way to mortgaging land, losing it, and becoming a

tenant to its purchaser. Although the Roman Catholic Christianity of 85% of Filipinos meant more

celibacy and later marriage for women than in any other Southeast Asian country, Philippine population continued rising rapidly (Smith/Xenos and Nag, XVII 1980). The 1970s World Fertility Survey found 86% of Philippines women still in a first marriage, counteracting celibacy’s effects. Many of the other 14% were among the 4% who were Muslims, the even fewer who followed traditional religions, or a variety of Christian groups that would accept

divorce (McDonald, in Cleland and Hobcraft, II] 1985). In 1903, when singulate mean marriage ages were 20.9 for women and 24.4 for men, 7.8% of women and 6% of men aged 45 to 49 had never married (Smith/Xenos, in

356 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Kantner and McCaffrey, XVII 1975). In 1960, 7.0% of older women and 3.1%

of older men had not wed, and singulate means were 22.3 for women and 24.8 for men. By 1970, those figures were 6.5% of older women and 3.7% of older men having never wed, with singulate means of 22.9 for women and 25.3 for men. Noticeably more urban women than rural had not married, but locale made little difference for men (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980). Filipinos more than doubled between 1900 and 1950 and more than doubled again from 1950 to 1975. Yet infant mortalities in the late 1970s were still 7.7% for agricultural-rural couples and 3.4% for educated 2-earner metro-

politan couples (Ruzicka, in Jones, XIV 1984). Times had changed in the Visayas by 1960, for women aged 45 to 64 who were still wed at age 45 had averaged 7.8 births in urban areas and 7.4 in rural areas if they had wed at ages 15 to 19, or 5.8 in urban areas and 6.1 in rural areas if they had wed at ages 20 to 24. Averages were 6.2 in urban areas and 6.3 in rural areas for those married at all ages (Concepcion, XVII 1974). Across the Philippines, average rural households in 1970-71 held 2.71 adults and 3.12 children aged O to 14, to average urban households’ 3.01 adults and 2.98 children aged 0 to 14 (Kuznets, III 1978), more children and fewer adults than Thailand in 1960,

with 3.12 adults and 2.52 children, or especially Japan in 1970, with 2.75 adults and 0.87 children. In 1975, the average number in all Philippine households, rural or urban, was still about 5.9, noticeably larger than that of Indonesia in 1980 at 4.8 (4.7 in rural households, 5.3 in urban areas), south Korea in

1980 at 4.5, or Japan at only 3.1 in 1985 (3.6 in rural households, 3.0 in urban ones). Of Japan’s households, 20.8% were single, often aged persons, compared with 2.2% for the Philippines in 1975 or 4.6% for Indonesia and 4.8% for south Korea in 1980. The United States in 1980 had 22.7% (Atoh, XIX 1988). Birth expectancies for Filipinos, like Thai and also north and south Koreans, moved from the early 50s to the early 60s between 1960 and 1979 (Ruzicka, in Jones, XIV 1984), increasing household size as older family members lived longer. Relatively late female marriage would be encouraged by realizing that too many children were being born to provide for comfortably. In the Philippines as well as in Thailand, young people could see advantages in leaving home to work and marrying later. Migration itself was a response to overcrowding, as people in Sisya village in central Luzon found in the 1960s. Sisya was founded on newly cleared land in the 1870s. By 1962, it held 571 inhabitants, with 20% of households including parents and one married child in familiar Southeast Asian style. Already 17% of household heads lacked land or a steady job, depending on casual work from day to day. With 149 more births than deaths in 1962-70, total numbers in 1970 would have been 720 if no one had left. However, 116 had migrated—mainly girls and young women aged 11 to 25, who usually became maids in larger towns and cities, and men aged 21 to 40, who usually became factory workers—leaving 604 at home. In 1971, 27% of household heads (101 of 276, not 37 of 221 as in 1962) had to depend on ca-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 357 sual labor. Sisya’s former custom of both groom and bride giving to a conjugal fund changed to a bride giving less and a groom giving nothing (Anderson, in Kantner and McCaffrey, XVII 1975). Migrants still belonged to the shadow

household of those who see a village household as home even though they live and earn elsewhere, perhaps saving toward their own or another’s marriage (Caces and others, XVII 1982). Sisya’s experience clearly shows why migration could be a family strategy in the rural Philippines as much as in rural India. As in parts of Thailand, where young girls left for Bangkok almost as a kind of maturation ritual, most Filipino migrants were single young people. Yet couples and families predominated among migrants to towns other than Bangkok in Thailand, whereas in the Philippines, singles outnumbered other rural migrants in all urban centers. In a 1972 sample of migrants to Cebu city, 72.4% had been actively encouraged by their families. Moreover, 91.3% of individuals and 67.5% of entire households who migrated had been able to live with kin until they could find other places, and 43.6% of individuals were still with kin. Although 53.5% worked more than 60 hours a week, and 65% earned below-average income, 67.3% said that their situation was better than at home, 22.7% said that it was worse, and 10% found it about the same (Zablan, in Arce and Alvarez, XVII 1983). Sisya’s experience shows why family limitation began to be more seriously considered in the 1980s than ever before, though action came slowly, in part because new land to clear and cultivate still appeared to be available on some

islands. A study of Manila and two rural communities in 1966-67 found

that the best educated rural migrants headed toward the largest cities (Hendershot, XVII 1971). Thus it is not surprising that if matched for age, migrants to Manila bore fewer children than those born in the city. Across Philip-

pine society in 1973, those who went down socioeconomically had more births than those who remained at the same level, whether migrants or nonmigrants, rural or urban, whereas those who remained at the same level had more than those who moved upward (de Guzman, in Arce and Alvarez, XVII 1983). Women who went to new frontiers like northern Mindanao married earlier than those who stayed at home (Smith/Xenos, in Kantner and McCaffrey, XVII 1975). Women were scarcer on the frontier. Men also married earlier there, unlike in Indonesia, where Javanese women and men who went to frontier areas in outer islands married later than those who stayed at home. Still, Javanese frontier-openers and Filipino frontier-openers married at similar ages, thanks to different home-area marriage ages (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980). Early marriage might help upwardly mobile farmers have more births than upwardly mobile city workers, since city dwellers married later; but Mindanao frontier-settlers faced risks not faced by urban workers, once the Muslim population began to arm itself in the 1970s (with aid from Libya and elsewhere) to try to force out newcomers. Mindanao’s population had been 31% Muslim in 1903. By 1960, migration had already made that less than

358 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 20%, even though Maranao (Mindanao Muslims) grew fully as rapidly as other groups. Maranao concern for numbers makes it unsurprising that they ranked above the middle in percentage of multiple households or support given to kin

in a late 1970s sample of couples in which the wife was aged 15 to 44. Maranao households averaged 12.8 in rural areas and 15.4 in urban areas, compared with an overall national average of 5.9 for 1975. More than 85% of all sampled Maranao households were extended, with 68.9% multiple households in rural areas and 78.1% in urban areas. Bicolanos of Luzon averaged only 10.6% in rural areas and 19.2% in urban areas, the large Tagalog group

of Luzon averaged only 7.9% in rural and 12.9% in urban areas, and the Ilocano of the center averaged 16.1% in rural and 26.6% in urban areas, while the Chinese (an urban group) averaged only 3.2% of multiple households. Maranao and Chinese were the only groups in which more than 1 in 10 were currently providing support to kin outside the household (Gastardo-Conaco and Kamos-Jimenez, XVII 1986). Yet even they did not reach levels of kin support as high as the more than 1 in 3 among urban Javanese, more than 1 in 4 of Sundanese both rural and urban, 1 in 3 of urban Minangkabau, more than 1 in 5 of urban Batak, and well over 1 in 4 of Indonesian Chinese (Tan and Soeradji, XVII 1986), or roughly 1 in 5 among virtually all groups in Thailand, with a range of 1 in 8 to 3 in 10 (Suchart, XVII 1985), or almost 1 in 5 for Chinese and 1 in 6 for Indians in both rural and urban areas in the Malay peninsula, or about 1 in 3 for rural Malays and about 2 in 5 for urban Malays (Abu Bakr and others, XVII 1985). For Maranao, that may have been because the

aid was being given within rather than between households. Spanish overlords reinforced existing bilateral tendencies in the many peoples of the Philippines, unlike the Chinese overlords who forced patrilineality on matrilineal Koreans more than 1500 years before European ships reached Korean shores. As Koreans fashioned their 2-tier society of aristocrats and commoners, in the centuries after the Chinese occupiers left, they eventually accepted patrilineal practices and attitudes. Both aristocrats and ordinary people strove to maintain the largest possible households, in view of mortalities. Invasions in the 13th, 16th, and 17th centuries that led to temporary population downturns left a concern for defense that finally established patrilineality firmly, and with it a strong son preference. Women as well as men would find son preference natural in a patrilineal patrilocal system, for sons alone could be expected to remain to be of help (Kim, XX 1990). Like some north Chinese, Koreans also frequently married young women in their late teens to barely maturing lads younger than themselves. Since they were not trying (as were most Chinese, and especially most South Asians, with their larger spousal age gaps between young brides and more mature husbands) to match too many younger women to not enough slightly older men, Koreans

were under less pressure to disfavor females actively. When Japan took control of Korea after 1905, Korean numbers had grown

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 359 fairly steadily at a pace of about 25% per century from 1500 to 1800. They had climbed by 20% from 1800 to 1850 and by 33% from 1850 to 1900. Korea’s 19th-century rulers strove to minimize cultural change, which suited Manchu China, but not Japan. Once Japan’s rulers gained access to northeast China after 1895, they wanted access to Korea too, and overcame both Russian and Manchu resistance to obtain it. Korea’s new Japanese rulers effectively broke the power of Korean clans by changing the laws after 1910 to limit kin obligations to those one was ances-

tral to, married to, or descended from. Both fertility and mortality remained high until after 1910, when Japanese expansion of Korean public health initiatives decreased mortality. In 1925-30, birth expectancy was about 37.5 (37.9 for men, 37.2 for women), reaching about 41 (40.4 for men, 41.7 for women) in 1935-40 (Lee, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979). Population more than doubled during Japanese rule from 1910 to 1945, for fertility did not decline. Women’s marriage ages continued to be fairly early until after 1945, earlier than in most of Southeast Asia or Japan itself. Women’s mean first marriage age in 1900 was 17.2 (Grigg, II] 1980), down to 16.6 in 1925 when men’s was 21.1. In 1940, women’s mean was 17.8 and men’s was 21.5 (Lee, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979). Only in 1959 did women in the south (separated from the north in the late 1940s) marry at a mean of 20.2, rising to 21.9 by 1968 (Koh and Cha, in Kim and Chee, XX 1969) as birth expectancy rose to 46.9 for men and 52.5 for women in 1955-60 (Cho, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979). Fertility decline began after 1960, thanks to later female marriage and contraceptive use (Cho, XX 1973). Patterns of marrying women to men slightly younger than themselves evidently continued into the Japanese era. In three villages in the 1960s, wives were older than husbands in 9.6% of the longer-enduring marriages in one village and 8.2% in another. Still, the gap between mean marriage ages for women and for men in the second village grew over time—3.6 years for marriages of wives born in 1931-40, to only 0.8 year for wives born before 1901 (Pak and Gamble, XX 1975). Even in villages, tradition was changing. As late as 1955-60, total fertility rate in south Korea remained constant at

about 6.3, having been 6.2 for all Korea in both 1925-30 and 1935-40. Yet south Korea showed a real rural-urban difference by 1960, with 5.4 in cities (where modernization was bringing a wish for fewer and better educated children) and 6.8 in rural areas, thanks to rising longevity (over 60 by 1970-75) and less widowing. That turned out to be the peak rural level. The south Korean government reactivated mothers’ clubs, which Japanese established to reduce infant and child mortality, and used the revived clubs to provide con-

traceptive information and support. Because modernization had not yet brought much income inequality, most women were ready to agree to reduce fertility together. There was little problem with villagers wondering if some might seek advantage in numbers while others did not (Repetto, XX 1978). By 1970, total fertility rates were already down to 3.5, with 3.1 in cities and

360 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 4.4 in rural areas (Cho and Perry, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979), reaching 2.9 by 1980 (Cho and others, XX 1982). By the late 1980s, infant mortality in

both south and north Korea was under 2.5%, as birth expectancy in both south and north rose in parallel to near 70. In view of continuing nearuniversality of marriage in south Korea, still 99.8% for both sexes in 1970 (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980), and a continuing high level of wanting at least one son, achieving an annual growth rate of 1.05% by 1987 was remarkable. The growth rate in north Korea was still 2.36% for 1985-90 (United Nations, II] 1989). On the average (though not in every south Korean family), daughters were lactated less long than sons, if there was no son yet (Rindfuss and others, XIV 1984). Even after a 1970s revision, south Korean law gave any son 50%

more than a daughter at home, and six times as much as a daughter not at home (Martin, in Preston, II] 1990). Daughters were not valueless; but neither were they valued like sons. The ratio of boys to girls among lastborns in south Korea was high (Park, XX 1983). Almost all families had at least one son, sug-

gesting that parents kept on trying until the wanted son appeared. It is difficult to know much about changing patterns in north Korea after 1945, since the government there provides little information. Even its giant fellow Communist neighbors, China and the Soviet Union, publicly complained at times about knowing little of north Korean affairs. Both parts of Korea brought down mortality rates for all ages at roughly comparable rates, but more north Korean women seemed to work outside the home. Korean culture developed in a unified country during a thousand years and more, stressing in the process the extreme importance of who one is in relation to others. The lanquage itself requires women and men to use different forms, which also differ in how another person is addressed, according to sex, relative age, social standing, and closeness or distance of relationship. Broadly parallel adjustments to mortality changes probably took place in both north and south, in elements like marriage age, since population in the north remained about

half as large as in the south through the 1980s. In the Korean peninsula’s island neighbor, Japanese seem to have gone through a form of fertility transition in the 18th century, using infanticide for lack of other means. This initial recognition of need to restrict growth prepared them to enter a modern contraceptive fertility transition in both urban and rural regions by the 1920s (Hanley, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979),

even earlier than parts of eastern Europe. Despite epidemics and warfare, Japan’s population rose by about 30% in the turbulent 16th century and at least another 30% in the 17th century, even though Japan shared the cold weather that set back European growth. When the founder of the Tokugawa line of imperial agents of rule (1600-1868) defeated all his rivals in the last 16th-century wars, the titular emperor had to appoint him to govern. After restoring order, he and his followers self-protectively isolated Japan, forbidding Japanese to leave as well as forbidding all but a few outsiders to enter (and only at one port). This effectively blocked emigration as an outlet for the is-

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 361 lands’ population, which played its own part in the later use of maboko or thinning. The early Tokugawa regime also fastened a system of hereditary occupational classifications on its people. Peasants were next to the top warrior-

administrator level, not only because Confucian theory (much admired in Japan) valued their provision of food even above the work of artisans, but also

because many lower subordinates of both victorious and defeated military leaders were assigned to peasant rank. Placing them next to the top mollified their distaste for losing warrior status. Then came artisans, makers of useful items, followed by merchants (mere carriers of goods, in Confucian eyes). At

the bottom were burakumin, doers of unclean tasks, who could no longer change occupations as their counterparts in China did. Burakumin eventually became a laboratory demonstration that social degradation produces damaging results, if continued long enough. They experi-

enced more than 250 years of formal discrimination before hereditary classification was abolished. Even then, they faced continuing rejection. Within a generation, the government realized that one’s birthplace told whether one came from a separate burakumin district. Some official Tokugawa maps did not even show such districts, so despised were people in them, despite the necessary services they performed. Because employers and others were still rejecting not only former burakumin but also their children and grandchildren, the government stopped answering inquiries about birthplaces. Yet those who wanted to reject burakumin descendants continued to find ways to do so. In the 1970s and 1980s continuing rejection meant that burakumin descendants still had poorer employment statistics, lower educational levels, and higher crime rates than other Japanese, more than a century after their ancestors had been officially made equal to other Japanese. More than a century after emancipation in the United States, some still claimed that inborn genetic traits contributed to African-American problems. The experience of burakumin, identical to all other Japanese genetically, in language,

and in post-1873 educational access (though prejudice discouraged some from using that access fully), showed otherwise. The key was not genetic inheritance, but others’ prejudice and its results. The vast majority of Japanese were peasants from the beginning of hereditary classification to its end. Only in the 20th century did industrialization and urbanization gradually bring cultivators below 50% of the work force. By the 1980s, few still worked in agriculture—extremely few full-time farmers, plus those who combined farming with a job in a nearby town, like many Europeans. As population increase finally led to land shortage, rural family forms shifted in the late 17th century. The previous large, fully extended joint family with visited-wife daughters and visiting-husband sons (except for the chosen heir, who brought in his wife) gave way to a stem-family pattern. Only one son was allowed to marry, unless there was opportunity to inherit another farm or find a position in a nearby town. A son might be adopted as heir to another farm, which was preferred, or he might marry the daughter-heiress to its cur-

362 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT rent cultivator and move into that household as a son-in-law rather than as an adopted son. Adoption also made town openings available to the fortunate (Mosk, XIX 1983). In practice, a village younger son had three choices: making his way into a new situation by adoption, staying at home as a respected as-

sistant who might find an unwed daughter on a nearby farm to whom to become a visiting husband, or (usually with some family help) establishing a separate bunke or side household of his ie or main household in either village or town. Though occupational classifications were hereditary, adoption rules were flexible. Nominally despised merchants could even use them to purchase a shadow of higher rank. A merchant could, would, and did cancel debts for warrior-administrators, if the family of a warrior-administrator debtor adopted

the merchant’s daughter so that she could marry a son of another warrioradministrator debtor. This did not actually ennoble a merchant; yet to be the known father of a warrior-administrator’s wife greatly increased his standing. At a different social level, a town artisan or merchant who wanted an apprentice might well turn to a descendant of a former warrior-administrator who be-

came a peasant after 1600, or even to an ordinary peasant’s son. Rural upbringing probably meant better health and longer life than being born and reared in town was apt to mean, in a population in which total life expectancies for those registered at the end of their first year of life could range from only 29 to fully 40, even for rural areas (Farris, XIX 1985). Overall birth expectancy as the Tokugawa era closed in 1865 was 35 for males and 38 for females, and 38 for males and 39 for females in 1900 (Atoh, XIX 1988)—not much less than in most of Europe. Longevity affected size of households. In a county for which 382 community registers have been studied, mean household size for the period 1671-1870 was 5.19, though means for specific communities ranged from 3.15 to 14.48 (as large as Philippine Maranao). Proportions of three-generation households are characteristic of stem-family patterns if life expectancies are neither short nor long—30.5% in 1671-1700, 25% in 1751-1800 (suggesting times were worse and lives were shorter, as in China), and 28.4% for the entire period 1671-1870 (Hayami and Uchida, in Laslett, IIl 1972). Desire for workers also affected household size. In a silkworm-raising mountain area with large household labor needs, average household size in 1867 was more than nine. Such large households were maintained by taking in kin or hiring workers, rather than by having

more children (Nakane, in Laslett, HI 1972). In the commercial city of Takayama in 1843, an average household size of nine could be explained by the fact that more hearths or cooking places were counted than houses, suggesting the possibility of an associative family form (Sasaki, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985). Aboriginal Ainu in the north still had large complex households in 1803-53, suggesting that they were clients to warrior-administrators in the northeast who exacted furs, fish, and other natural products in return

for goods and called the exchange “tribute” and “gifts” rather than trade

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT , 363 (Hammel, XIX 1988). Ainu are the Caucasian group whose mingling with later comers from northeastern and Southeast Asia gave Japanese males more facial hair than other Asian males. They had almost died out by the 1980s. Urban artisans and merchants also developed a stem and branch household pattern, though most burakumin remained in larger extended households. In 1757-1858, two wards in Tennoji, next to Osaka, showed 55% of all families as stem families. Almost all the changes in households’ forms during that century were between stem, with parents living, and nuclear, before a member of the next generation married (Smith, XIX 1978). The village of Yokouchi in present-day Nagano prefecture in the central mountains showed a roughly comparable pattern. In 1720, 30% of Yokouchi households were stem families and 26% consisted of married elder and younger brothers. In 1818, 37.4% were stem families and 13.1% consisted of married brothers. By 1818, more daughters whose births were registered reached age 10 (in comparison to how many registered sons reached age 10) than in 1700, perhaps because it had become easier for daughters to earn in neighboring towns or by making goods at home for town-based merchants (Cornell, XIX 1987). Even before Tokugawa times, hereditary nobles customarily separated branches from main households rather than using straight primogeniture (inheritance by eldest son). Tokugawa peasants’ chief motivation for accepting such a pattern was the growing land shortage. Peasants soon recognized that fragmenting lands would lower heirs’ expected village standing by lowering ex-

pected household income. In Japan’s status-conscious social world, this meant that parents would risk being overlooked in village decision-making in their own later lives. The number of branch-household wives in a village varied. Some had almost none; some had a fluctuating but always low proportion, probably influenced by current economic situations when households were deciding how many of their children’s marriages to arrange (Hanley and

Yamamura, XIX 1977). | :

Social historians of Japan argue heatedly over whether peasants really used infanticide in the 18th century when population scarcely grew. Some assign stationary numbers to rising tolls from epidemics, though they agree that epidemics may have combined with neglect of the ill in families with many chil-

dren. Even those who believe that the unusually stationary numbers came from infanticide, not epidemics, disagree warmly over whether the goal was efficiency in bearing and rearing (not wasting efforts on sickly infants, so the mother could quickly conceive again without interference from lactation) or maintaining a desired level of well-being (Mosk, XIX 1978). The hottest debate is over whether infants who were born but did not live to be registered are figments of the demographic theory that suggests that the long gaps found in registers between births are unlikely, or infants who were born but died of natural causes too soon to be registered, or infants who were born and immedi-

ately killed. It is agreed more widely that fixing the rate of taxation in the

364 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 1720s gave peasants incentive to limit children, by enabling peasants to keep more per head in good years (if there were fewer to share it) and making it preferable to have few to feed in bad years because the same amount would still be due. At a probable annual increase rate of 0.16% from the 1720s to 1872, Japan’s population would have taken until the 21st century to double (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977). When a new system based on periodic reassessments was established after 1872, rural and total population began to grow more rapidly. Many Tokugawa population registers were destroyed by World War II bombings of cities in which they were housed in regional archives, but a considerable number survive. The 1720s to 1870s show both regional differences and fluctuations between epidemic-ridden and healthier times. The largest number of studies have been done for central Japan, which saw the least change in numbers from 1720 to 1868. The only visible increases were in the southwest. Defeated foes of the Tokugawa founder had promptly been assigned there as local warrior-administrators, far from the center and watched by Tokugawa loyalists assigned to neighboring districts. Local stimulus from the limited for-

eign trade allowed at Nagasaki apparently made. increases possible. The northeast had population losses as epidemics and natural disasters combined to produce famine and death. Some areas often saw more deaths than births. Registers for Shimoyuda village in a northeast prefecture show life expectancy of only 26.7 for males and 30.1 for females in 1808-13. At almost the same time, other villages in more central regions showed expectancies ranging from 36.8 for males and 36.5 for females in Toraiwa in 1812-15 to 44.1 for males and a much higher 54.4 for females in Fujito in 1800-05. Yet even Fujito showed only 40.8 for males and 40.3 for females in 1825-30, just before six cold, wet years led to the terrible 1837 famine, when some places saw death

tolls 3.5 times those of more normal years (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977). Because central Japan was administered by lightly assessed loyalists or nonassessed tribute-receiving Tokugawa, its people were less heavily taxed

than those of the growing southwest or the declining northeast, the two regions where former foes were placed. The Tokugawa strove to keep their former foes’ purses from filling too rapidly by requiring heavier payments and

more services from them, which burdened the northeast but apparently proved a spur in the southwest. During 1683-1860, Fujito and other villages in the Okayama region of cen-

tral Japan appear to have aimed at three to four children per family, using adoption in and out as well as replacement births for infants registered but later lost. Even landless rural laborers averaged no more than 4.2 registered births. They may have decided that it was better to have only a few to feed in bad years than to have more who could earn in good years. Because their children were far less likely to be able to rise by adoption than children of peasants

with land cultivation rights, that would have been prudent. Moreover, there are absolutely no peasant families with more than eight registered births,

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 365 though often nine or more were found then in western and eastern Europe.

Even families with five to eight births were comparatively rare in these Okayama villages (Hanley, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979), though common then in Europe. Such findings seem explainable only by deliberate infanticide, not just by epidemics. Yokouchi’s prefecture maintained an almost unbelievably steady and favorable proportion of the population at ages 15 to 59—59.1% of males and 58.1% of females in 1671-90, 60.4% of males and 61.7% of females in 176190, 60.7% of males and 59.8% of females in 1857-70. This suggests that parents carefully planned how many adolescent and young adult offspring to expect after age 40 or so. Increasing proportions at ages 15 to 59 in disastertorn Shimoyuda from 1687 to 1832 merely reflected population decline as births failed to replace deaths (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977). Fujito maintained more than 60% in the working ages of 15 to 59 from at least 1775 to 1863, which probably helped to improve local levels of living enough to give a Fujito 2-year-old as many years of life expectancy by the 1850s as a western European 2-year-old. Most households’ sizes also stayed constant through the generations, becoming larger only if they became wealthier or smaller only if they became poorer (Hanley, in Lee, III 1977). Yokouchi household heads came to retire at about age 59, with more than 50% of 18th-century heirs and about 70% of 19th-century heirs taking over before the father died. Because many, or even most, Yokouchi fathers reached their 60s, an heir might be a grandfather before becoming household head unless there was a regular retirement pattern (Jannetta, XIX 1987). From 1671 to 1775, 75% of registered births in Yokouchi reached the sixth year (Hayami and Uchida, in Laslett, [If 1972). Other villages in later years had similar survival rates, like Kando-shinden, where 76% reached the sixth year in 1813-37

and 81% in 1838-62 (Hayami, XIX 1968), which is comparable to the allJapan rate of 81% survival to age 5 for 1940 (Martin and Cutter, XIX 1983). Age 5 in contemporary registration is like the sixth year of the former style, which treated a child as a year old at birth because of the months in the womb. Mortalities for registered infants were not unusually high in Tokugawa times, judging from a 20% rate in Kando-shinden in 1778-1871 for first and second registered births, with more for third and fourth births and up to 25% for fifth

and later births (Hayami, XIX 1968). This suggests a relative neglect of laterborns, like that noted for other world regions. Residential sections of Takayama city in 1803-71 also fluctuated around 20%, with at least 15% after 1823 except in one fortunate year (Sasaki, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985). That was much like 20% for all Japan in 1899 (Martin and Cutter, XIX 1983)

or even 16% to 20% for 1900-19 (Atoh, XIX 1988). Parents evidently planned for four out of five registered infants surviving the first full year of life, about three out of four registered infants reaching the sixth year, and at least three out of five registered infants reaching working age at 15. In four Okayama-region villages, households averaged 3.53 registered

366 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT children in the late 18th century, 3.72 in the early 19th, and 3.22 in the mid19th century (Hanley, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985). Kando-shinden women married after 1808 averaged 3.4 for all women, but 6.3 if they reached 45 in their first marriage. Among women reaching age 45, the few wed by age 20 averaged 7.5 births, those married at the usual ages of 21 to 25 averaged 6.2, and those married later averaged only 4.8. A little more than 50% of marriages of wives born before 1800 lasted at least 15 years and almost 20% lasted no more than 5 years. A little more than 40% of marriages of wives born after 1800 lasted at least 15 years and almost 25% lasted no more than 5 years, suggesting that times were worse and death came earlier to husbands. Thus 7.5 completed fertility for women who wed early meant little to an overall outcome of 3.45 registered births for wives born before 1800 and 3.38 for wives born after 1800. Widowed men often remarried (49%) but widowed women seldom did (only 6.2%), so that widowing normally ended a woman’s reproductive career (Hayami, XIX 1968). Numbers of children also seem to have been limited in cities. Takayama women aged 15 to 38 in 1775, if still in taxpayer records for 1794, averaged 4.0 registered births by then. Women who married in 1794-1810 showed only 2.9 registered births, and all later Takayama cohorts studied showed 3.4 to 3.6 births. Marital disruption limited fertility, even though one in four marriages was a remarriage for at least one partner. Before wives turned 45, 28.4% of husbands died and 30.7% of marriages ended in divorce, making average marriage duration only 10.8 years (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977). Yokouchi village marriages lasted an average of 17.3 years (Morris and Smith, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985). Yet only Takayama households with low tax assessments showed fewer than three births. Those with average assessments showed 3.5, and those with high assessments averaged 4.2, whereas nonowners who lived by wage work only and were not assessed showed 3.3. In Takayama, as in Fujito, most households remained the same size unless their tax level changed (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977). Socioeconomic standing could influence the proportion of stem families in urban areas like Tennoji in 1757-1858, with 32% of owner households as stem households and 18.2% solitary. Tenants showed only 21.5% stem households and 16.7% solitary. Overall averages were 26.8% for stem households and 17.5% solitary (Sasaki, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985). Many of the solitaries would have been older people, as in 1985 with 20.8% solitary households in Japan (Atoh, XIX 1988). Households with more wealth usually maintained their size more consistently through the generations than those with less wealth, hiring assistants when wanted and letting them go when not needed (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977). At the level of the warrior-administrators, not just at lower levels, relative income could affect fertility. In a group of Tokugawa retainers, those with more income married more wives (even taking secondary wives) and sired at least 3.5 children. Those with lower income averaged fewer than three

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 367 children and were likelier than the higher-income group to adopt a successor. That may be how extra sons of the higher-income group found a place. Numbers born also went down over time. Those born in 1500-60 who served the

Tokugawa as they rose to power had 4.24, to only 3.61 for those born in 1621-50 and just 3.32 for those born in 1711-40 (Yamamura, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985), as status became more expensive to maintain. Only the lowly burakumin did not seem to check fertility, apparently want-

ing numbers for household survival, like protoindustrial wage workers or sharecroppers in 18th- and 19th-century Europe. For a community near Osaka whose registers for 1830-69 survive, total marital fertility averaged 8.1. (Marital fertility rate means the average number born to a married woman if she weds at age 20 and remains wed through the reproductive years. It usually exceeds total fertility rate for all women aged 15 to 49.) The few with enough land for a house averaged 8.4 actual births in the 1830s if they hada full 25 or more years of marriage, but only 7.7 by 1868. The many who lacked even that averaged 8.15, with rates fluctuating between 7.0 and 9.6, probably as wages fluctuated. All the women together averaged 7.9 actual births for 25 or more years of marriage. Because 40% of their marriages ended in divorce, and because life expectancy was several years less than peasants’, meaning more widowhood, not many women actually bore so many. Yet there is a striking difference between a total marital fertility rate of 8.1 for this community and 6.3 completed registered fertility for women reaching age 45 in their first marriage in Kando-shinden in the early 19th century (Hayami, XIX 1968), or 6.5 for Nakahara in central Japan for 1717-1830, let alone the drop in Yokouchi from 7.3 in the late 17th century to 5.0 in 1701-50 and only 4.0 in 1751-1800 (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977). That difference between burakumin near Osaka and central Japan’s peasants (with a status to protect) probably repre-

sents patterns in many areas. |

Overall normal survival rates in 17th- and 18th-century Japan probably resembled those of 1899, when bearing four children would leave only 1% of parents without at least one child to survive them, but bearing only two would mean a 1 in 12 chance of that (Martin and Cutter, XIX 1983). Parents in Tokugawa times needed more risk insurance against epidemics than those of 1899, however. Epidemics largely ended by 1899, thanks to the efficient organization of public services by those who replaced the Tokugawa as the emperor’s official agents in 1868 and formalized the new system into a constitutional monarchy in 1881. If most Tokugawa parents aimed at three children reaching age 15, that did indeed require a careful combination of birth spacing, adoption, marriage timing (including reliance on migration for work before marriage for a number

of women as well as for many men), and what Japanese themselves termed maboko or thinning. Tokugawa Japan shows a clear positive correlation between numbers of births registered and crop yield in a given year (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977). Those registrations may well cloak a Daoyi-like readi-

ness to eliminate some infants born in poor crop years.

368 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Some localities clearly used women’s marriage age to lessen births, as in western Europe. In Yokouchi, it rose from 18.8 in 1671 to 21.7 in 1871, not only lowering fertility, but also giving parents some of their daughters’ earn-

ings. By 1818, most daughters could fully repay the cost of raising them (Cornell, XIX 1987). Women’s marriage age averaged 19.6 in Nakahara in 1717-1830, to 27.1 for men, as favoring males in rearing evidently brought enough of a shortage of potential brides to force delay in men’s marriages there and elsewhere (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977). Mean spousal age gap in Nishinomiya in 1713 was 10.36 years (Laslett, III 1977), more than in much of highly polygynous west Africa. In four Okayama-region villages, omitting the few women who only married at age 31 or more (Hanley, in Cho and Kobayashi, XX 1979), mean marriage age for Fujito women in 1775-1863

was 22.6, to 22.8 for two other villages (in 1687-1860 and 1780-1871, respectively) and 21.9 for another with fewer surviving records (1782-96). In Kando-shinden during 1778-1871 (Hayami, XIX 1968), women married at a mean of 21.8 (range 13 to 34) and men at 28.4 (range 18 to 45). Both period and economic circumstances mattered, even for burakumin. Burakumin women married at an average of only 17.9 during 1830-69 in the community near Osaka, men at 21.1; yet averages in 1830-49 were 17.5 for women and 20.7 for men, to 19.3 for women and 22.0 for men in 1850-69, when fewer marriages were registered than numbers at appropriate ages would suggest. Burakumin apparently began using the confusion of the 1850s and 1860s to try to avoid registering life events in their community, hoping to enable themselves and their descendants to shake off burakumin status. Laterregistered marriage might, therefore, only mean having given up efforts to register elsewhere, not later marriage throughout the community. Whether a burakumin family owned its house site made a difference. Daughters of those who did wed at 17.0, sons at 20.4, perhaps marrying earlier because seen as a better match. Others wed later, at averages of 18.3 for daughters and 21.4 for sons (Morris and Smith, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985). Those born in Nishijo village in 1773-1835 showed several gradations. A few landlord families rented land to others. More held about enough for their own needs. Some owned too little land, and rented from others; some owned

none, and rented all they used. Some were not even renters. Because they were not registered, it is hard to assess their position, except by analogy with landless Okayama villagers, who showed 4.2 registered births per married woman in 1683-1860 (Hanley, in Lee, III 1977), hardly more than other villagers. Among all Nishijo women, whether in landlord, owner, part-owner, or tenant households, the few who married at age 16 averaged 7.19 and the few who married at 30 averaged 3.17. Even landlord families sent 39.4% of their

women and 32.5% of their men to work outside the village in 1773-1869. Fewer men (29.6%) but more women (59.1%) went from owner families and from part-owner families (27.8% of men, 64.7% of women). Far more tenant men (63.1%) and women (74.0%) worked outside the village at some time in

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 369 their lives. Of those who left to work in 1773-1868 from all village households, 59.6% of men and 47.5% of women went to Nagoya or some other large city of central Japan. Only 10.7% of men and 14.6% of women went to nearby smaller towns, whereas 29.7% of men and 37.8% of women went to rural households in other villages. Qutworking women born in 1773-1825 married noticeably later (26.3) than those who stayed at home (20.7), perhaps having worked to earn for a better match. Outworking men married slightly later (29.9) than those who stayed at home (28.2). Average age at departure was 14 to 15. Almost one in three men and about one in four women did not return. Landlord offspring born in 1773-1835 married young (women at 21.6, men at 27.4), whereas women of all other groups averaged over 24. Averages were 22.3 for tenant daughters who stayed at home, 21.2 for landlord daughters who stayed at home, and (youngest of all) 21.0 for daughters of owners and part-owners who stayed at home, though outworking daughters averaged 25.6 among tenants and 27.2 among owners and part-owners (24.3 for the few landlord daughters). Outworking men averaged 27.9 in tenant families, 26.3 in owner and part-owner families, and 25.5 for the few landlord sons. Of those who stayed at home, tenant sons wed at 28.0 and owner and part-owner sons wed latest of all, at 29.2 (Hayami, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985), whereas landlord sons wed at 27.7. Nishijo plainly shows that current and future household size was regulated by a complex combination of marriage and migration, made even more complex because it was easier to send workers to cities, towns, or other villages in good crop years, when others had the food to feed them, than in famine or near-famine years. Departures and arrivals in villages whose migration patterns have been studied underline that point. Marriage ages in a stem-family system are influenced by the wish of the groom’s parents to maximize the bride’s age, skills, and goods, within limits set by wanting enough grandsons so that the groom would not eventually have to adopt a son or bring in a husband for an only surviving daughter. Stem families

adjust household size and composition to economic needs, unlike joint extended families, which adjust household size and composition to economic opportunities. Many Tokugawa Japanese stem families brought in needed workers by marriage and adoption. They also hired live-in servants and day laborers, which made relatively late female marriage ages possible. Sending sons and

daughters out to work linked rural and urban marriage markets in Japan enough to make marriage ages about the same throughout the villages and towns of a given region. Parents continued to be active in arranging children’s marriages even if they were away from home, retaining veto power if not making the match themselves. An observably consistent pattern developed as rural women married rural men earlier because the man’s household wanted another worker, and married urban men later because the man’s household wanted household gear or even cash (which the bride must earn), whereas most urban women wed urban rather than rural men (Mosk, XIX 1983).

370 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Given Nishijo’s many outworkers, its marital fertility rate of 7.4 in 1777-

1835 (Hayami, in Hanley and Wolf, XX 1985)—rather like Yokouchi completed fertility before 1700 at 7.3 (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977)—

suggests that neither Nishijo nor Yokouchi was doing much thinning. Nakahara had a marital fertility rate of 6.5 for 1717-1830, suggesting some thinning (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977). Moreover, registered births for all completed marriages in which wives reached age 45 averaged only about four. Nakahara sex ratios also varied too suspiciously for next births in some situations to be merely happenstance. A family with two sons registered in succession had an unlikely ratio of 67 males to 100 females for later births; a family with one son and one daughter registered in succession had an even less likely 148 males per 100 females for later births; and a family with two girls registered in succession had an unbelievable ratio of two boys per girl in later births. For the few with six or more registered births, having two sons in succession meant a ratio of 61 males to 100 females for the next child; having one of each in succession meant a ratio of 146 males to 100 females for the next child; and having two daughters in succession meant a ratio of 164 males to 100 females for the next. Apparently these families let more girls live because they wanted more children. Nakahara residents may have used infanticide for at least five reasons: to limit total family size, to keep family size appropriate to farm size, to distribute children by sex in what were seen as advantageous ways, to let a mother finish one child’s early rearing before having to rear another, and to avoid an unlucky year for a child of that sex (Eng and

Smith, XIX 1975-76). In four Okayama-region villages, sex ratios for lastborns were 140 males per 100 females in agricultural Fujito in 1775-1863, 160 males per 100 females in agricultural Nishikata in 1782-96, 138 males per 100 females in fishing-and-agricultural Fukiage in 1683-1730, but only 87

males per 100 females in 1814-32 and only 78 males per 100 females in 1860-71 in landlocked agricultural Numa. Numa’s parents may have expected that girls could work elsewhere as servants, or they may have feared that too many sons might fragment land and drag down family status (Hanley and Yamamura, XIX 1977). As Numa shows, Tokugawa peasant families might eliminate sons as well as daughters. Japanese were so accustomed to planning family size by the end of the Tokugawa that both reasons and methods for doing it modernly were easily and quickly grasped. Of the five reasons suggested for Tokugawa times by Eng and Smith (XIX 1975-76), only the distribution of children by sex could not be done by contraception, but in a modernizing society with broadening opportunities that mattered less than before. Concern over unlucky years was still evident in 1966, a year of the fiery horse, when the traditional 60-year cycle developed

in China and used across East Asia predicted that any girls born would be a source of misfortune. Many expectant mothers in Japan sought early birth in December of 1965, so that if a daughter was born, her birth certificate would not show 1966. In December of 1966, other expectant mothers did everything

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 371 possible to try to defer the birth to 1967. Overall fertility in Japan was more than 25% lower in 1966 than in 1965 or 1967, as many tried to avoid the unlucky year altogether (Preston, in Davis and others, III 1987). Actual births to completed first marriages in which the wife reached age 45 went steadily downward from an already lowered 4.95 for women born in 1900 to 2.19 for those born in 1930 (Watanabe, XIX 1987), demonstrating that modern contraception was in use by the 1920s, as Japanese responded to decreasing infant mortality. By 1926, infant mortality was already down to 13.8% (Okita and others, in Hauser, III 1979), and fell permanently below 10% in the 1930s. Even in wartime in 1943, it was only 8.66%, declining to 7.67% in 1957, 0.93% in 1978, and 0.52% by 1986 (1943 and 1978 from Atoh, XIX 1988; 1957 from United Nations, II] 1986 #95; 1986 from United Nations, III 1989). Survivorship rose to 90% of all births reaching age 15 by 1950, 95% by 1960, 97.5% by 1970, and 99% by 1980 (1950 and 1970 from Schull and Ochi, in Preston, II 1982; 1960 and 1980 from Martin and Cutter, XIX 1983). Birth expectancy rose to 47 for men and 50 for women by 193536, jumping after World War II to 55.6 for men and 59.4 for women by 1948, passing 65 for men and almost 70 for women by 1959, reaching almost 72 for men and just 77 for women in 1975, and passing 75 for men by 1986 and 80 for women by 1984 (1935-36, 1984, 1986 from Atoh, XIX 1988; 1948 and 1975 from Martin and Cutter, XIX 1983; 1959 from Thomlinson, III 1965). Marriage age for women and men continued rising, with an actual mean of 23 for women by 1950 (Kono, in Davis and others, III 1987). Singulate mean

age for women was 23.6 in 1950 (Atoh, XIX 1988). Singulate mean for women had been 21.2 in 1920, for an actual mean of probably a little under 21. Singulate means for men were 25 in 1920, but 26.2 in 1950, also slightly more than actual means. The difference would be small because population did not grow fast enough to double from 1900 to 1950 and percentages single were not particularly high. Actual means rose to 25.4 for women in 1984 (Kono, in Davis and others, III 1987). Singulate mean for women was 25.8 in 1985, to 29.5 for men (Atoh, XIX 1988), with 4.3% of women aged 45 to 49 and 4.7% of men aged 45 to 49 having never married. Later marriages came partly because many young men migrated to urban centers and took a long time finding wives, whereas young women left behind in smaller places took a long time finding husbands and young women in cities (having many from

whom to select) did not rush into a choice (Smith/Xenos, XIV 1980). Differences between women’s marriage ages in mainly rural and mainly industrial prefectures were only 1.4 years in 1930 and 1.2 years in 1960 (Mosk,

XIX 1983). Mainly agricultural prefectures virtually ceased to exist after 1960, as Japan’s economic boom took off for the stratosphere. That boom’s roots lay in 1868-1912, when population only grew by 1% a year but overall production grew by 4% a year, leaving a sizable margin for further economic expansion and diversification (Okita and others, in Hauser, III 1979). The

coming together of regional rural and urban marriage markets in the

372 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT Tokugawa era became a national coming together in the late 19th century. Young women from all over Japan were brought to dormitories built by textile

factory managers, who hired them from their parents’ homes, provided instruction in housewifely arts to occupy them after work and reassure their parents, and often paid the parents rather than the daughters for their work. True labor markets, with individuals seeking their own jobs and receiving their own wages, scarcely appeared outside the largest cities until after World War I. Only in the late 1950s did education fully replace parental recommendation to urban patrons as sons’ job passport, or partner self-choice (with parental approval still desired) begin replacing arranged marriages. Until then, family eld-

ers usually arranged marriages for daughters and often for sons. Agricultural regions took longer than urban areas to bring down births. As late as 1929, a farm head could still feed and clothe family members all year for less than hiring day workers as needed (Mosk, XIX 1983). Yet births in rural as well as urban areas declined in the 1920s. Lack of strong son preference and willingness to adopt meant greater readiness than in Korea to limit births, as a need for education either to succeed at farming or to find a good position elsewhere became increasingly clear to rural families in an industrializing society. Then a double population shock (from the post-1945 repatria-

tion of 5 million Japanese from Korea, northeast China, and the Pacific islands, where they had settled after 1920, plus 5 million new births in 1945-50 as couples reunited after World War II ended) led to massive efforts to decrease growth. Abortion was legalized in 1948. In 1952, a full-scale government family planning program was launched, whose rapid success quickly cut abortions drastically. The total fertility rate was already below 3 in 1952, having fallen from 4.54 in 1947 to 3.65 in 1950. By 1961, it went below two for the first time, as first births began to come later. By 1978, only 1% of all births were to women under age 20 (Okita and others, in Hauser, II] 1979). Nonmarital births decreased from 1949 to 1980 (rather than increasing, as in

most industrialized countries), with only 0.8% of births out of wedlock (Preston, in Davis and others, III 1987). As most women halted childbearing after two, mean age of birth-giving went below 30 before 1955. It has been about 27 since 1960, with 95% of births at ages 20 to 35 by 1975 (Schull and Ochi, in Preston, I] 1982) and most births in the first four to five years of marriage (Preston, in Davis and others, II] 1987). One reason to stop at two births

was the competitive educational examination system, in a society in which fully 40% of the almost universal high school graduates went on to college or other postsecondary education, which made parents want to limit how many the mother would groom for the best possible performance while the father earned enough to pay for any desired tutoring. Another reason was the wish for better housing, more consumer goods, and wider choices of leisure activities in Japan’s new mass consumption society. Legal changes that ended the recognition of grandfathers as heads of stem families, and the economic shock of near-starvation in the aftermath of defeat, also increased willingness to have

FAMILIES IN CONTEXT 373 smaller families. Expectations changed quickly. In 1950, 55% of one sample said that they expected to depend on children for support rather than their own pensions and savings, yet just 11 years later that was down to only 27% (Freedman, III 1963). Stem families lost legal recognition as Japan democratized in the occupation era of 1945-51. Yet they retained social recognition as valuable for helping newlyweds and aiding aging parents. Given life expectancies, parental and heir generations co-resided in a three-generation household with grandchildren only about 10 years in 1920. By 1980, that grew to 24 years, well past grandchildren’s adolescence rather than only into grandchildren’s first years. Middle-aged offspring might have parents over 65 to tend for about 5 years in 1920, but that grew to 18 years by 1980 (Hanada and others, XIX 1988). In 1970-74, about 30% of newlyweds lived with a spouse’s parents at first, down from 60% in the years of housing shortage in 1945-49 (Atoh, XIX 1988); but

that 30% proved to be a low, for by 1980-82, the percentage was 32.5% (Kojima, XIX 1988). Household membership in 1970 averaged 2.75 adults and 0.87 children, with 3.07 adults and 1.02 children in rural households and

2.65 adults and 0.81 children in urban ones. Yet extended households dropped from 36.5% in 1955 to 29.2% in 1965, 22.2% in 1975, and 19.7% in 1985, whereas solitary or one-person households grew from 3.4% in 1955 to

7.8% in 1965, 13.7% in 1975, and 20.8% in 1985. The 59.4% of nuclear households in 1955 rose only slightly from 1920's 54% (in part because greater longevity kept stem households longer in a three-generation situation)

and rose little thereafter (Atoh, XIX 1988). In 1984, 14.9% of households were still three-generation, most of them probably in the 19.7% of extended households in 1985 (Hanada and others, XIX 1988). Clearly, with 42.4% of women aged 60 or over in a three-generation household in both 1982 and 1986, a modified stem family remained the mode of choice for meeting the needs of aging parents who could no longer care for themselves (Atoh, XIX 1988). The Japanese Statistical Bureau reported in 1985 that 65% of all men and women aged 65 or over were living with children (22% with a spouse, 10% alone, 4% in other arrangements) and that 30% of Japan’s children were

in homes with both parents and at least one grandparent. (The comparable percentages for the United States in 1980, according to the Bureau of the Census, were 6% with children, 51% with a spouse, 29% alone, 14% other, and under 2% of children with both parents and at least one grandparent.) About 35% of Japan’s population in 1980 were aged 0 to 14, but 13% were already 65 or over—no longer as favorable a ratio of actives to dependents as in the 1960s, even though the age of real frailty was nearer 80 than 70. The proportion of aged continued to grow yearly, as the large and largely surviving birth cohorts of earlier years came to outnumber later cohorts. A projected

population pyramid for 2025 shows about as many at age 80 as at age 1 (Keizai Koho Center, XIX 1988). By 2010, Japan expects 21% of its people to

374 FAMILIES IN CONTEXT be 65 or over, rising to a maximum of 23.4% by 2025. The United States ex-

pects 12% of its people to be 65 or over in 2010 and 17.2% in 2025. Maintaining modified stem families clearly would give Japan’s increasingly numerous aged needed psychological support and physical care, if their chil-

dren and grandchildren can make the form fit their needs. Japanese hope to find ways such as subsidizing larger apartments and giving tax credits to facili-

tate a system in which the young co-reside with both parents and grandparents, parents can focus on grandparents’ needs after children’s adolescence, and parents become resident grandparents to a child’s children after their own grandparents are gone. Like Chinese on the mainland and Taiwan, Koreans are using comparable ways to encourage similar patterns. Japan’s continuance of a stem family form clearly shows that the nuclear family is not the only form family life can take in an industrial society with a reasonably complete SS-PE-ES system (safety net of social welfare services that includes public and private pension plans, public education programs, and income that increases with years worked). Yet Japan’s current form of stem family depends heavily on women remaining auxiliary workers, part-time in weekly hours and/or part-time in years during their lifetimes, so that they can care for children and then grandparents while men focus on careers. In societies like those of Europe and North America, in which women expect in-

creasingly to be career workers rather than auxiliary workers (earning their own pensions as well as developing their own capacities), increased use of nonfamilial caretakers for both children and grandparents becomes necessary unless there is a fourth section in the cycle corresponding to what Peter Laslett terms the Third Age (in Loriaux, II] 1990). Familial caretaking also can continue if both women and men work in career positions in early to middle adulthood and become retired grandparents in their early 60s, ready and willing to help sons and daughters care for their own children and/or help their own aging parents as needs might be greater. Given Japanese longevity, the growing number of well-educated Japanese women who want careers, the number of older parents already living with offspring, and a growing shortage of new labor force entrants, Japan might even develop toward that pattern rather than toward relying on nonfamilial assistance, as in Europe and North America. Japanese pension plans, however, do not enable most newly retired workers below management level to live without continuing to earn at least a little, unless they have invested their savings fortunately. Japanese pensions would have to enlarge for a four-generation pattern to be possible. European and North American families would probably be financially more able to move toward such a four-generation cycle, though their current tendency to delay birth-giving works against it. Nonetheless, what has been called the modified

extended family—modified by distance, with constituent units in different communities, not just in different buildings, yet still accepting mutual obligation and giving mutual aid—may foreshadow that four-stage cycle as a future mode.

«Conclusion From the Age of World Cities to the

Global Village

The age of world cities began when Lisbon and Madrid sent explorers and conquerors to Africa, the Americas, and Asia, followed by others from London,

Amsterdam, and Paris. None of the large regions discussed in Chapters 5 through 9 had more than 150 million people in 1500. By 1900, Berlin, Rome, Moscow, Washington, New York, Toronto, and Tokyo were seeking to join London, Amsterdam, and Paris as Madrid and even Lisbon faded in impor-

tance, though Lisbon ruled parts of Africa until 1975. From 1500 to 1900, Europe’s population approximately quintupled, the Americas’ more than doubled, Africa’s and Southwest Asia’s approximately doubled, India’s probably doubled, China’s probably nearly tripled, and Japan’s, Korea’s, and Southeast Asia’s probably tripled. Much of the increase came in the 19th century,

when mortality decreased and longevity grew because of new public health agencies, improved sanitation, improved transportation making it easier to move food to famine areas, improved communication making it easier to know where needs were, and centralizing and colonial governments’ quashing of local conflicts. Growth continued in the 20th century, as the world’s population multiplied 2.5 times in 1900-75 and seemed likely to quadruple by century’s end. As people everywhere experienced these developments, the world increasingly became a global village. The great 19th-century world’s fairs and expositions in Europe and North America signaled the growth of the global village as

much as the establishment of the Ottoman plague regulations in 1841. Because world’s fairs and expositions usually incorporated people from areas whose curios and customs were on display, relatively ordinary people from around the world came face to face with one another—not just rulers, their official representatives, and merchant princes. Though this interaction was lim-

376 CONCLUSION ited and artificial, ordinary people could see that human life the world over was largely organized around the domestic sphere. The real, though unconscious, message of world’s fairs and expositions was that individual, family, and community do not exist to make possible global trade, national governments, international diplomacy, and arts, letters, and sciences. Global trade, national governments, international diplomacy, and arts, letters, and sciences come into being to make life better for individual, family, and community.

World cities first appeared in Europe. Labor shortages after the Black Death of 1348 led to a spirit of innovation there, and to increasing recognition of the worth of individuals to the larger society as well as to the local communities, families, and individuals who compose it. The first baptismal registers in 1406 in the diocese of Nantes in Brittany in western France announced that recognition clearly (Quale, II] 1988). Soon the printing press and a widening of literacy enabled growing numbers to communicate across great distances, thereby also expanding their influence on economic, political, and cultural developments. Europe first massively used coal to smelt iron and make steel, even though China was first to use coal at all. The real industrial revolution was the energy revolution (Thomas, in Rotberg and Rabb, II] 1986). Yet turning to fossil fuels led to using the globe’s stored capital of mineral and timber resources ever more rapidly. Problems of resource depletion and air and water pollution through overuse of resources clearly needed attention on a global scale, not just locally or even nationally. When global environmental protection came to the top of the agenda of the 1989 economic summit of leaders of seven great national economies (led by the world cities of Washington—New York, London, Paris, Berlin, Rome, Tokyo, and Toronto—Ottawa), it clearly

was a turning point, as important in its way as the introduction of nuclear weaponry in 1945, which outmoded war as a usable way to gain and/or keep large-scale dominance. At almost the same moment, the papacy called for an international agency to reverse deforestation and desertification, dispose of the toxic waste products of many modern industrial processes and encourage revising those processes so that more toxic wastes would not be created, and save the atmosphere; for as spiritual leader to people in every continent, the papacy was alert to environmental issues in both industrial and newly industrializing lands, as well as in lands not yet economically diversified. Eastern Europe transformed itself in that same year, 1989, both in reaction to state socialism’s failure to meet both individual and environmental concerns and in a preparatory response to western Europe’s economic unification in 1992, exactly 500 years after Columbus reached the Caribbean. The European Economic Community is becoming the world’s single largest unified maker and user of goods. It may foreshadow a new format for enlarging spheres of cooperation by enabling separate nation-states to continue within an economic union. To deal globally with global problems, methods of economic cooperation are needed that can accommodate local differences in language, political life, and socioeconomic patterns. The former Soviet Union

CONCLUSION 377 might even find the European Economic Community a more useful model than the United States, which combines political with economic union. Yet Europe can only be such a model if it comes to terms with the 10 million Muslims it still treats as aliens. The United States and the former Soviet Union (if its members cooperate) clearly would remain great economic powers along-

side the European Economic Community and Japan; but the same western

Europe where world cities and the possibility of the global village first emerged remains in the forefront of global developments. At the level of family life, western Europeans were the first to combine a conjugal rather than consanguineal family pattern with equal partible inheritance and partner self-selection (Quale, III 1988). That combination fits industrial-commercial life well enough to be increasingly common around the world. Yet whether local family patterns are conjugal or consanguineal, families continue as always to seek the five basic goals outlined in Chapter 1: providing basic food, clothing, and shelter; ensuring care for children, the ill, and the frail through maintaining a ratio of at least three active persons of working age to every two persons who need to be treated as largely dependent; instructing children of both sexes in social interaction with both sexes; meeting psychological needs for satisfying human interaction; and giving as much scope to individual talents and interests as seems feasible within a family’s natural, social, economic, political, and cultural environment. Western Europe’s way of meeting those goals, like its combination of conjugal families, equal partible inheritance, and partner self-selection, has been instructive to others as world cities and the global village develop. Economic diversification and

fertility reduction have been prominent aspects of that western European way, together with governmental provision of social welfare services and education. The process of diversifying economically from agriculture into providing ever more varied tangible and intangible goods began in western Europe and moved across the Alps, the Pyrenees, the North Sea, the Baltic, and the great

plains of central Europe to southern, northern, and eastern Europe. After crossing the Atlantic to North America, it spread to other world regions. As economic life diversified, mortality declined, longevity increased, and overall production grew; but many unhappy pockets of low productivity and/or high demands from overlords remained. Like protoindustrialists or sharecroppers or serfs in 18th-century western, southern, or eastern Europe, those in such

pockets desperately tried to increase household numbers, hoping to keep their own households viable, and used migration (when they could) to reduce resulting strains.

Europeans, and later others, only reduced fertility when migration no longer combined easily with mortality to fit numbers to opportunities. Europeans, and later others, came to regard about two children per couple as appropriate. If not all couples had that many, or if some people had none, this might even help to scale down human demands on resources and help to keep life

378 CONCLUSION sustainable (Davis, in Davis and others, III 1987). In the late 20th century, population declined visibly in western Germany and in Hungary and less greatly in Austria, Belgium, Denmark, and Iceland (Bourgeois-Pichat, in Davis and others, III 1987). Western Europe displayed decreasing numbers of first marriages, remarriages, and births from 1960 to 1979 (Lesthaeghe, VI 1983), but some below-replacement fertility rates observed in industrialized nations in Europe and elsewhere (most notably in Australia, Canada, Japan, New Zealand, and the United States) merely represented a longer earning period for women before marriage and childbearing. By the late 1980s, gradual population decrease in Europe and elsewhere seemed a real possibility. Mainland China’s leaders even sought it actively. Or-

dinary people in many European and other industrialized areas were appar-

ently undertaking it even where governments opposed it, as in much of pre-1989 eastern Europe. Eastern European central planners feared that fewer people and an aging work force would mean fewer goods, not seeing that fewer people and an experienced work force could mean readiness to innovate (Moore, in Davis and others, IIJ 1987). A nontraumatic gradual decrease in population in the industrialized world could even benefit areas where population is still growing by opening potential remittance-earning positions for well-prepared immigrants from them. As those immigrants learn new patterns in their new social context, including fertility limitation, they can intro-

duce those patterns to relatives and friends through visits and letters, increasing a sense of global community. Yet they must feel genuinely welcomed for that sense of community to grow rapidly. Such a sense is critically important to implementing global environmental protection measures from threats like loss of cancer-preventing ozone in the upper atmosphere. Nontraumatic gradual decrease may be a genuinely sensible evolutionary response to human beings’ current overuse of global resources. Yet only if the five goals of families continue to be upheld can that be achieved without attenuating family so much that it lacks meaning. At the core, a family has a man and a woman linked as father and mother with each other and with their children, though it also involves the links with other kin that they bring into their relationship. One woman may be linked with several men as fathers, or one

man as father with several women as mothers. Spouses may live with their own consanguineal kin rather than with each other. Children may be with one parent almost entirely, or raised by grandparents, other kin of a parent, stepparents, foster parents, or adoptive parents. Still, most human beings see good relationships between and among parents and their children as a model for whatever type of social unit they are in, whether hierarchical or egalitarian. At bottom, they are thereby recognizing that the goals of the family must be attained if human life is to go on. Children first learn the need to give as well as take, the need to help as well as to be helped, through interacting with their parents. That prepares them to learn from others in the family household, whether siblings, grandparents, or

CONCLUSION 379 cousins, as well as from yet others in their neighborhood. They eventually learn from still more distant others well beyond kin circle or neighborhood. Most families have relied on helpers beyond parents and siblings early in children’s lives. These helpers might be neighbors or fellow members of a large extended household, freeing one another for needed tasks by taking turns watching one another’s children. Yet early industrial-era employers in western Europe and North America wanted such great geographic mobility for their workers that they also came to insist that each wife-mother should be her children’s sole rearer, so that her husband could move easily. Recreating Motherhood, Barbara Katz Rothman calls it (III 1989). It recreated fatherhood too. Husband-fathers in the first industrialized societies, like wife-mothers, lost previous support from friends and kin in raising children. They even lost much opportunity to be active child-rearers. Industrial life was not like past times, when the workplace was near or in the home for almost everyone. Late in the 20th century, computers and satellites finally enabled some to earn again at home. That could help both women and men combine livelihood and parenting. Yet the new technology can create new problems, if its users do not learn to interact with fellow human beings as well as with machines. It seems more than coincidental that family abuse appears to rise as people spend more time giving commands to machines and less time interacting with other people. Many believe that the rise comes from more complete reporting. That may be partly true; but it is surely harder for a child to learn that it cannot simply command another human being when the child can turn a machine on or off with-

out having to say “please” or “thank you” to start or stop it. Historically, the industrialized nations’ 1945-60 baby boom (after the world’s most destructive war and most economically damaging depression) was a natural effort to make up for 15 years of low fertility and to keep the overall work force in general balance. Yet it also came from urgent desire to strengthen family institutions by increasing family numbers, to meet those industrial-era pressures against maintaining larger kinship ties and neighborhood friendships as supplements to nuclear conjugal family bonds. Parenthood was feverishly pursued. Many who would have accepted being childless or turned to adoption in earlier years sought and obtained increasingly intricate new reproductive technologies, far beyond the initial use of artificial insemination to aid a husband with low sperm count by inseminating his wife with a mixture of his own and a donor’s sperm. Some who craved a sense of being able to create and nurture, in the midst of large impersonal entities like government agencies and economic corporations, even turned to what opponents disparaged as “rent-a-womb.” The first instances involved artifical insemination with a husband’s sperm of a woman not his wife, which meant that the gestating woman was gestating her own infant, coming from her own ovum and the father’s sperm. Courts and legislatures quickly recognized that by giving the gestating woman the right to change her mind after the infant was born. Then extrauterine fertilization and surgical implantation made it

380 CONCLUSION possible to implant a wife’s ovum, artificially inseminated with her husband's sperm, in another woman’s womb; yet even in such a situation, the gestator’s contribution to the eventual infant could scarcely be denied. The same technology even enabled a woman who feared her ova were defective to have an

ovum from another woman, artificially inseminated with her husband’s sperm, implanted in her womb for her to gestate and deliver. One wonders whether both society and the individuals who sought some form of artificial insemination and/or some form of surrogate gestation might have been better served if all that energy and effort had gone into helping to rear children naturally born to parents who needed help because of illness or poverty. More couples needed new reproductive technologies, after the introduction of the contraceptive pill in the 1960s led to widespread relaxation of previous

limitations on premarital intercourse and the same diffusion of sterilitycausing diseases as in spouse-circulation systems. The realities of human physiology continue to make early lifelong monogamous marriage the best guarantee of fecundity in a human population. An extremely detached observer might comment that acquired immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS) may return modern Europeans and North Americans to the procreative equiv-

alent of premarital virginity (or at least premarital monogamy), as use of condoms brings them to partners with whom they mean to parent without previous potentially procreative intercourse. They may, therefore, have less sterility than the many premaritally nonmonogamously experienced couples of this generation. On the other hand, development of a vaccine against AIDS could make such an outcome less possible. The realities of human physiology continue to counsel against close-kin marriage too. Infant mortality remains greater in populations with frequent close-kin marriage than in those where it is less frequent, from Zamora province in Spain (Edo and others, II 1985) to Tamil Nadu (Rao and Inbaraj, II 1979) or Karnataka (Bittles and others, II 1988) in India, and parts of Japan as well (Imaizumi, in United Nations, III

1986 #95). Although some desperately sought to procreate, others avoided procreation in a rapidly changing world whose population seemed to be growing too

quickly for the benefits of industrialization to outweigh its dangers much longer. Some remained celibate, often putting great creative energy into transmitting and building on the cultural heritage children need for effective membership in society. Some applied procreative potential to nonprocreative relationships, as when a man and a woman might agree because of Huntington’s disease in one of them not to bring children into their marriage.

Some women, and some men, formed intimate same-sex partnerships in a search for even closer bonds than the mutually supportive nonintimate partnerships of earlier generations between related or unrelated women or men. Mutually supportive partnerships can be recreative, whether or not they include intimacy or procreative potential, much as marriages are recreative even though not procreative for those past the wife’s childbearing years. As

CONCLUSION 381 percentages not marrying by the early 30s headed toward 20% or even more in late-20th-century North America and Europe, far above recent or even earlier levels, nonmarital recreative partnerships became more numerous. Some became procreative after starting as recreative. They might then become formal marriages, or continue as consensual unions, or sometimes end up in court as “palimony” cases drawing on long traditions of concern that fathers should support their children. Other partnerships of women or of men sought to become parental through adoption (or even, for women, through artificial insemination; or, for men, by finding a woman willing to be artificially inseminated); but social expectation that children should learn to interact with both men and women by having a parent of each sex remained strong enough to make that almost impossible for most of those who tried. Few Europeans or North Americans were prepared to agree that a child could learn satisfactorily about interacting with both sexes through its relations with others besides its legally recognized parents, perhaps in part because of the early industrial era’s insistence that parents alone should have all responsibility for rearing children. Yet such questions had not troubled Africans, who used fictive kinship forms like female fatherhood to ensure children for all who wanted them, and trusted that a child reared in a large consanguineal-family context would learn how to relate to everyone. Paul Demeny proposes (in Davis and others, III] 1987) that spouses might benefit by incorporating. Then if one died, the other would succeed to all the corporation’s assets without delay or difficulty. If the marriage and the corporation dissolved, all real and personal assets purchased or earned (but not inherited) during the life of the corporation would be equally divided, with

negotiations only needed over who gives up what other asset to keep a nondivisible asset like a house. That suggestion could be worth extending to give children in an incorporated marriage an automatic fraction of assets until they reached legal adulthood, perhaps a fourth of a spouse’s share (which ina two-child family would mean 40% for each parent and 10% for each minor child). They would then receive that share, to be administered by a caretaking parent or guardian until they reached majority, if they lost a parent to divorce before that age. Incorporating marriages might even be extended to recreative mutually intended lasting partnerships, giving them a position parallel to but separate from marriage. Formal marriage has long been reserved for those who can

both bear and rear children. It has been treated as different from all other forms of relationship because new members can only be added to society through procreation. Though new reproductive technologies can modify that slightly by removing the need for intercourse, an ovum still needs a sperm and a sperm still needs an ovum to conceive. Yet marriages need not be the only recognized incorporated partnerships. Incorporated partners in a recreative relationship also could be given legal right to share benefits like health insurance and pension payments, with the same provisions for division of assets at

382 CONCLUSION dissolution and shares for minor children reared by the partners as for incorporated marriages. The more communally inclined could incorporate as trios, quartets, or larger partnerships, with or without there being consanguineal or conjugal ties among or between any of the partners. Such larger-scale incorporations could meet the need to make parenthood more feasible (Anderson, in Davis and others, II] 1987) by providing a new way to spread its risks and

responsibilities, comparable to the large joint extended family (van den Berghe, II 1975). For older partners who come out of earlier marriages or partnerships, treating assets acquired in a previous incorporation separately from those acquired in a current one could prove helpful in relationships with partners’ offspring.

Marital incorporation is a natural extension of the idea of the conjugal fund, which has been part of European marriage patterns for many centuries and has spread around the world, as industrialization and commercialization make patterns first developed in Europe seem appropriate to many others as

they commercialize and industrialize. Partnership incorporation can be a modern version of blood brotherhood, godparenthood, foster kinship, and other forms of fictive kin relationships long used to expand kin circles if additional bonds seemed advisable. The conjugal fund came into being to replace the lineage fund as widows’ and orphans’ chief support. It was a more certain protection than relying on other lineage members, who usually had their own spouses and children to want lineage funds for. Chinese or Indian joint extended families’ equal division of household assets tries to meet that problem by pledging deceased siblings’ full share to their survivors. Yet the conju-

gal fund is a better protection, for the children of deceased older siblings often find their parents’ surviving siblings using seniority to claim more than their share, as Zulus knew when they made wives into female brothers in a

consanguineal-family parallel to the concept of the conjugal fund. A conjugal fund made up of the wife’s dowry and the husband’s dower, or marriage-gift to his wife, in the pattern of indissoluble marriage established in Europe by the early Christian church, was very like incorporation. When marriage became less indissoluble—especially in the United States, where divorce became frequent and English common-law tradition regarded husbands as the managers of all marital property and income—all too many divorced wives in the 1970s and 1980s found themselves with children to rear and little paternal help in doing so. All too many fathers did not acknowledge full responsibility for the children whose initial genetic and physical endowment came as much from them as from the mothers. How to encourage each father to recognize that his children are as much his as the mothers’, and take equal responsibility in rearing and supporting them until maturity, remains an issue now as much as it was at the dawn of human life. Setting marriage apart from

other partnerships, even those that might be both recreative and incorporated, remains a way to give fatherhood a status that parallels and equals

CONCLUSION 383 motherhood. Marriage is, therefore, apt to retain a privileged cultural position, even if other forms of partnership become recognized in law. Conjugal funds replaced lineage funds in early medieval Christian Europe in the context of almsgiving and church-sponsored confraternities and guilds, whose members vowed mutual support to one another and to one another’s

surviving spouses and children. Almsgiving, confraternities, and guilds strengthened community bonds as supplements to kinship bonds. Still, conjugal funds foreshadowed western Europe’s 17th- and 18th-century shift from primary concern with lineage or local community well-being to primary con-

cern with household well-being (usually a conjugal or sometimes a stem household, more compatible with the geographic mobility of a diversified economy than larger groupings). Focusing on households led quickly to focusing more strongly on children and less on adults’ immediate welfare, since infant and child mortalities were still high, yet every household’s adults knew that they needed children for their own later years (Lesthaeghe, VI 1983). Yet in Europe, and eventually elsewhere, economic diversification called forth public education; concern for national unity called forth social welfare programs; and geographic mobility called forth private and public pension plans, as parts of the SS-PE-ES system (Bernstam, in Davis and others, III 1987) that made possible the fertility reduction needed to keep numbers in line with resources. John Caldwell and Lado Ruzicka (in Davis and others, III 1987) also suggest that widespread schooling and a welfare safety net are as necessary to fertility reduction as better health, longer life, and greater child survival. Fertility usually has fallen fastest where longevity and per capita income are greatest, even though per capita income statistics distort differences by overlooking what is produced and consumed within households. Longevity is a truer indicator. In 1988, when worldwide birth expectancy for both sexes together was estimated at 61, the world’s lowest birth expectancies were 38 for men in Gambia and 41 for women in the western Sahara. Yet these were higher than those for men and

women in the Netherlands in the 1840s (Acsadi and Nemeskeri, II 1970), thanks to worldwide mortality declines. Even where conditions are favorable for reducing fertility, locally strong son preference or a desire to enlarge one’s ethnic group (as in many multiethnic African states) or one’s hereditary socioeco-

nomic group (as in India) or one’s religious group may keep fertility high. Muslims in Asia and Africa look at 10 million Muslims in European lands with more than 200 million people (some of whom actively oppose a Muslim pres-

ence in their midst), or the small Muslim percentages in the former Soviet Union and China, and feel like a minority even in their own Muslim lands. As Cigdem Kaaitcibasi comments (III 1986), legal and institutional changes provide opportunity for real changes in how people relate to one another in everyday life; but they do not guarantee that those changes will take place, let alone prove that those changes have already occurred. Modern society offers many alternatives to childbearing and child-rearing

384 CONCLUSION as outlets for its members’ energies. Because an economically diversified society provides broadly similar public education for all, both women and men are prepared for public social, economic, political, and cultural life. That differs from most previous postforaging societies. In the past, only men ordinarily received such preparation because women usually stayed in or near the home, whereas both women and men often were actively discouraged from believing

that they might share the same general capacities. Yet in an industrialcommercial society, women as well as men become wanted as workerproducers, and want to be worker-earners as the SS-PE-ES system promotes individual-centeredness (rather than child-centeredness) and a new level of fertility decline (Lesthaeghe, VI 1983). The welfare of adult members again becomes a strong household focus, in degrees varying with those adults’ personal level of concern for children and with broader societal attention to children (Aries, III 1980). The increase in recreative partnerships also reflects individual-centeredness. How many may be between people of the same sex in the future is apt to depend on people’s readiness to see that men and women have broadly similar rather than greatly unlike talents, and are, therefore, entitled to use constructively all the capacities in their genetic inheritance from both parents, without being told “That’s not manly” or “That’s not womanly.” If one knows one has a talent but is told it is inappropriate to one’s sex, one may well believe that one cannot attract or be attracted to the other sex because one differs too much from what one’s own sex supposedly is like. Those who stereotype most harshly, trying to reinforce procreativity by keeping men “manly” and women “womanly,” ironically produce the very results they claim to forestall. Fertility declines mean changes in household composition as larger socioeconomic patterns change and fertility changes with them. Child-centered-

ness came to the fore in Europe and North America during a general economic expansion in 1860-1910, and was consolidated in the next three decades of slower economic growth. Individual-centeredness came to the fore in the next general economic expansion in 1945-70, and was consolidated in the next decade or so of slower economic growth. Mean household sizes are near three in industrialized countries (roughly two adults and one child, masking the presence of many solitaries as affluence enables the widowed and the not yet married to live alone); but mean household sizes tend toward five or more (roughly three adults and two children) in still largely nonindustrial countries. In this list of household sizes, based on data on numbers of households and numbers of those aged 0 to 14 and aged 14 or more in households (United Nations, II] 1989), the greater the gap between those aged 0 to 14 and those aged 14 or more per household, the more rapid the recent fertility decline, outside of Europe, North America, and New Zealand. Where that gap is small, as in Botswana, Guatemala, St. Lucia, Venezuela, and Iran, fertility decline is scarcely visible as yet.

CONCLUSION : 385 Africa

Botswana (1981), 2.57 ages 0-14, 2.78 over 14 Mauritius (1983), 1.55 ages 0-14, 3.27 over 14 Reunion (1982), 1.42 ages 0-14, 2.79 over 14 Americas

Argentina (1980), 1.18 ages 0-14, 2.69 over 14 Aruba (1981), 1.04 ages 0-14, 2.98 over 14

Barbados (1980), 1.07 ages 0-14, 2.54 over 14 Bermuda (1980), 0.66 ages 0-14, 2.26 over 14 , Brazil (1980), 1.79 ages 0-14, 2.87 over 14 Canada (1981), 0.66 ages 0-14, 2.22 over 14 Cuba (1981), 1.25 ages 0-14, 2.86 over 14 Dominica (1981), 1.70 ages 0-14, 2.55 over 14

French Guiana (1982), 1.12 ages 0-14, 2.21 over 14 | Grenada (1981), 1.64 ages 0-14, 2.60 over 14 Guadeloupe (1982), 1.19 ages 0-14, 2.59 over 14 Guatemala (1981), 2.35 ages 0-14, 2.86 over 14 Martinique (1982),.1.08 ages 0-14, 2.69 over 14 Netherlands Antilles (1981), 1.24 ages 0-14, 2.89 over 14 Puerto Rico (1980), 1.16 ages 0-14, 2.49 over 14 St. Lucia (1980), 2.00 ages 0-14, 2.58 over 14 Trinidad and Tobago (1980), 1.54 ages 0-14, 2.93 over 14 United States (1980), 0.59 ages 0-14, 2.09 over 14 Venezuela (1981), 2.13 ages 0-14, 3.16 over 14 Asia

Bangladesh (1981), 2.71 ages 0-14, 3.02 over 14 Burma/Myanmar (1983), 2.02 ages 0-14, 3.17 over 14 Iran (1976), 2.23 ages 0-14, 2.73 over 14 Israel (1983), 1.14 ages 0-14, 2.33 over 14 Japan’ (1980), 0.76 ages 0-14, 2.41 over 14 Singapore (1980), 1.28 ages 0-14, 4.71 over 14 Europe

Austria (1981), 0.55 ages 0~14, 2.16 over 14 Belgium (1981), 0.55 ages 0-14, 2.15 over 14 France (1982), 0.57 ages 0-14, 2.14 over 14 Greece (1981), 0.77 ages 0-14, 2.41 over 14 Hungary (1984), 0.60 ages 0-14, 2.18 over 14 Italy (1981), 0.65 ages 0-14, 2.36 over 14 Luxembourg (1981), 0.52 ages 0-14, 2.27 over 14 Norway (1980), 0.58 ages 0-14, 2.07 over 14 Poland (1978), 0.76 ages 0-14, 2.36 over 14 Spain (1981), 0.91 ages O-14, 2.63 over 14 Switzerland (1980), 0.49 ages 0-14, 2.02 over 14 United Kingdom (1981), 0.56 ages 0-14, 2.14 over 14 Northern Ireland (1981), 0.89 ages 0-14, 2.38 over 14 Oceania

New Zealand (1981), 0.82 ages 0-14, 2.20 over 14

386 CONCLUSION Whereas post-1860 fertility decline in Europe and North America was accompanied by earlier marriage and less nonmarriage, post-1970 fertility de-

cline has been accompanied by later marriage, more nonremarriage, and greatly increased divorce rates. In the United States, divorce rates appeared to peak in the mid-1980s, for later marriage had replaced the early marriage of the baby boom era as the norm (and the worst marital risks perhaps remained unwed). More nonmarriage also has been accompanied by more nonmarital births, in almost every industrialized country except Japan. In Europe, Canada, Australia, or New Zealand, this means more births to women over age 20 who see births outside of marriage as preferable to childlessness, in monogamous systems in which appreciable numbers of men are choosing not to wed and accept the responsibilities of fatherhood. Yet in the United States, with

28% of births nonmarital by 1987, the industrial world’s highest rate, this means more births to teenage young women—especially to quite young teenage women only aged 15 to 17, and most especially to young AfricanAmerican women, even though their rates have declined since 1980. Unwed teenage motherhood among African-Americans is more than twice as high as among young European-American women, who aive birth at least 50% more often than teenage young women in Europe (Westoff, in Davis and others, III 1987). Although African-American teenage pregnancy is linked with poor

health and poor marriage prospects (Geronimus, XXVI 1987), it also results—like that for European-Americans—from lack of the coordinated education provided in most European countries concerning the nature and fulfillment of responsibilities associated with intercourse. As adults in the United

States realized that unknowledgeable teenagers accounted for a large and growing share of abortions, reactions ranged all the way from heated insistence on full sex education and contraceptive provision (usually with insistence on full access to abortion also) to equally heated insistence on trying to keep sex education out of schools as only apt to lead to early intercourse (usually with strong opposition to abortion as well). Most other industrial countries, having accepted sex education and abortion for some time, found the uproar in the United States bemusing. Yet the concern with children’s welfare that emerged amid the uproar suggested a new shift in attitudes toward a less individual-centered and more child-centered approach to marriage and family at both personal and societal levels. In the longer run, the United States might

yet develop a distinctive mode of reuniting generations (divided by industrialization’s focus on the strictly nuclear family) into a larger family form. The United States would need a reexpansion of family more suited to geographic mobility over a large and comparatively thinly settled area than even an associative version of the stem-family pattern. Stem-family patterns could

survive in more densely settled industrial regions, or still more thinly settled neighboring Canada, with its people’s tendency to remain in ethnic communities and thus near other family members. What reexpanding family life in the

CONCLUSION 387 United States might mean—whether in terms of the emergence of a fourgeneration rather than a three-generation cycle, or in terms of family or partner incorporation as a companion to marriage, or in terms of the outcome of the debate over sex education, contraception, and abortion in the age of AIDS—was unclear as the 1990s opened. Yet in all the heat of the debate, the concern that all participants expressed for others’ children, not only for their own, seemed likelier to mean better provision for all children than to mean more individual-centeredness. Individual-centeredness seemed to have surpassed some kind of limit of acceptability that required the whole society to change, in recognition that even though the SS-PE-ES system supplements

and supports families in meeting their goals, the family is still the body through which children enter the larger society. By 1991, with surveys showing as many as three out of ten United States fathers saying that they had re-

fused transfers, promotions, or new jobs that seemed likely to reduce their time with their children, it was already clear that the early industrial era’s redefinition of fatherhood as little more than engendering and earning was being increasingly rejected in favor of a truer recreating of both fatherhood and motherhood. The rise of the global village means more attention to others’ needs beyond

the limits of face-to-face interaction, both within national boundaries and around the world. With all its problems, as Thomas Haskell says (III 1985), living in a market-oriented society has taught people that, over the long run, meeting others’ needs—even distant others—can result in opportunities to benefit oneself and one’s immediate associates that would be lost if those needs were not met. Haskell suggests that the bonds of mutual sympathy once limited to kin and neighbors, and still incompletely extended to compatriots, also are being increasingly extended to the entire world community. As means to express compassion improve, through better transportation, communication, and production technology, readiness to feel and implement compassion has expanded. The growth of such feelings can mean that world cities will no

longer dominate the smaller communities they depend on, as earlier cities dominated villages in the age of regional cities and peasantry. There can truly be a global village of cooperating neighbors who use the power of embarrassment to protect one another and themselves from exploitation, as early villagers could use it to limit leaders before those leaders moved out to distant cities.

That global village was strikingly heralded in a 1989 appeal for aid by the United States Committee for the United Nations Children’s Fund, depicting a camel with a solar-powered refrigerator on its back. The camel carries vaccines to unvaccinated children in desperately poor Chad, as part of worldwide

efforts to control the greatest killers of children in the world’s poorest countries—polio, measles, tuberculosis, diphtheria, whooping cough, and tetanus (but no longer smallpox, eliminated by the success of the worldwide vaccination campaign of the 1970s). The vaccine-bearing camel is a superb illustration of why world per capita

388 CONCLUSION income growth between 1930 and 1960 explains only two years of that period’s total ten-year rise in worldwide average birth expectancy. Such a wonderful mingling of modern technology and simple transport, supported by ordinary people around the world who never expect to meet anyone from Chad, suggests even more forcibly than calls for global environmental protection from economic summits or the papacy that the power of embarrassment is being joined by the powers of advanced technology and ordinary human sympathy to bring the global village into existence. The global village may have fewer people in coming centuries because of recognition that too many people are indeed too many. That recognition is already beginning to be implemented through changes in family forms that provide mutual supportiveness without necessarily putting large family groups under the same roof, yet can further the basic goals of families within the context of diversified economies and political systems that sympathetically supplement what individuals in families can do to meet those goals. Good stewardship of global resources requires self-restraint in procreation, as well as in how tangible goods are produced and used. The people of the coming global village can learn from western Europeans, who are now uniting economically while remaining culturally distinct, as western European numbers begin decreasing gradually. They also can learn from the United States, as its people come to terms with the reality and implications of their growing ethnic diversity more willingly than western Europeans yet seem prepared to do. Eastern Europeans, former Soviets, Japanese, other modern industrial-commercial peoples, and those who are still moving

toward greater economic diversification and the positive changes that it makes possible can all learn with western Europe and the United States how to live more harmoniously with the world of nature (of which all of us are part) than human beings ever have until now.

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New York: Aldine de Gruyter, 1988. Post, John D. The Last Great Subsistence Crisis in the Western World. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1977. Poston, Dudley L., and Mei-Yu Yu. “Completed Single Childedness in Sixty-One Nations, Including China and Other Communist Countries,” Social Research, 70 (1988), pp. 107-09. Preston, Samuel H., ed. World Population: Approaching the Year 2000. 1990. Special edition of Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science.

396 BIBLIOGRAPHY Quale, G. Robina. Eastern Civilizations. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1966; 2d ed. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1975. Quale, G. Robina. A History of Marriage Systems. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood, 1988. Rotberg, Robert I., and Theodore K. Rabb, eds. Marriage and Fertility. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1980. Rotberg, Robert I., and Theodore K. Rabb, eds. Population and Economy: From the Traditional to the Modern World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986. Rothman, Barbara Katz. Recreating Motherhood. New York: W. W. Norton, 1989. Rowe, G., and P. Krishnan. “A Comparative Analysis of Divorce Rates in Canada and the United States, 1921-1967,” Journal of Divorce, 4 (1980), pp. 61-72.

Ruggles, Steven. Prolonged Connections: The Rise of the Extended Family in Nineteenth-Century England and America. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1987. Scheper-Hughes, Nancy, ed. Child Survival: Anthropological Perspectives on the Treatment and Survival of Children. Dordrecht: Reidel, 1987. Schneider, David, and Kathleen Gough, eds. Matrilineal Kinship. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1961. Schoen, Robert. “Measuring the ‘Tightness’ of a ‘Marriage System,’” Population

Index, 48 (1982), p. 460. Schultz, Theodore W., ed. Economics of the Family. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1975. Schutjer, Wayne A., and C. Shannon Stokes, eds. Rural Development and Human Fertility. New York: Macmillan, 1984. Sen, Amartya. “More Than 100 Million Women Are Missing,” The New York Review, December 20, 1990, pp. 61-66. Simon, Rita S., and Caroline B. Brettell, eds. International Migration: The Female Experience. Totowa, N.J.: Rowman and Littlefield, 1986. Spagnoli, Paul. “Industrialization, Proletarianization, and Marriage: A Reconsideration,” Journal of Family History, 8 (1983), pp. 230-47. Spengler, J.J., and Otis D. Duncan, eds. Demographic Analysis: Selected Readings. Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1956. Spooner, Brian, ed. Population Growth: Anthropological Implications. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1972. Suchindran, C. M. “Factors Affecting Infant and Child Mortality,” Journal of Biosocial Science, 17 (1985), pp. 381-96.

Sundin, Jan, and Erik Soderlund, eds. Time, Space and Man: Essays on MicroDemography. Stockholm: Almavist and Wiksell, 1979. Thomlinson, Ralph. Population Dynamics. New York: Random House, 1965.

Tilly, Charles A., ed. Historical Studies of Changing Fertility. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1978. Ucko, Peter J., Ruth Tringham, and G. W. Dimbleby, eds. Man, Settlement, and Urbanism. Cambridge, Mass.: Schenkman, 1972. United Nations. Consequences of Mortality Trends and Differentials. New York: United Nations, 1986. Population Studies #95. United Nations. Determinants of Mortality Change and Differentials in Developing

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Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1976. ,

IV. ANCIENT MESOPOTAMIAN AND MEDITERRANEAN SOCIETIES Bradley, Keith R. Discovering the Roman Family. New York: Oxford University Press, 1990.

Brunt, P. A. Italian Manpower 225 B.C.-A.D. 14. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976. Engels, Donald. “The Problem of Female Infanticide in the Greco-Roman World,” Classical Philology, 75 (1980), pp. 112-20. Foley, Helene P., ed. Reflections of Women in Antiquity. New York: Gordon and Breach, 1981. Gardner, Jane F. Women in Roman Law and Society. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986. Garnsey, Peter, and Richard Salle. The Roman Empire: Economy, Society, and Culture. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987. Golden, Mark. “Demography and the Exposure of Girls at Athens,” Phoenix, 35 (1981), pp. 316-31. Harris, William V. “The Theoretical Possibility of Extensive Infanticide in the GraecoRoman World,” Classical Quarterly, 32 (1982), pp. 114-16. Hopkins, M. Keith. “The Age of Roman Girls at Marriage,” Population Studies, 18 (1965), pp. 309-27. Hopkins, M. Keith. “Brother-Sister Marriage in Roman Egypt,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 22 (1980), pp. 303-54. Hopkins, M. Keith. Death and Renewal. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983. Pomeroy, Sarah B. Women in Hellenistic Egypt: From Alexander to Cleopatra. New York: Schocken, 1984.

398 BIBLIOGRAPHY Rawson, Beryl, ed. The Family in Ancient Rome: New Perspectives. Ithaca, N.Y.:

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Roth, Martha T. “Age at Marriage and the Household: A Study of Neo-Babylonian and Neo-Assyrian Forms,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 29 (1987),

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V. MEDIEVAL EUROPEAN SOCIETIES Brooke, Christopher N. L. The Medieval Idea of Marriage. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989. Brown, Peter. The Body and Society: Men, Women, and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity. New York: Columbia University Press, 1988. Bullough, Vern, and Cameron Campbell. “Female Longevity and Diet in the Middle

Ages,” Speculum, 55 (1980), pp. 317-25. Hanawalt, Barbara A. The Ties That Bound: Peasant Families in Medieval England. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986. Herlihy, David. Medieval Households. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1985. Herlihy, David, and Christiane Klapisch-Zuber. Tuscans and Their Families: A Study of

the Florentine Catasto of 1427. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1985. Hogberg, Ulf, Elisabeth Iregren, Claes-Henrik Siven, and Lennart Diener. “Maternal Deaths in Medieval Sweden: An Osteological and Life-Table Analysis,” Journal

of Biosocial Science, 19 (1987), pp. 495-503. Laiou, Angeliki E. Peasant Society in the Late Byzantine Empire. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1977. Moller, Herbert. “The Social Causation of the Courtly Love Complex,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 1 (1959), pp. 137-63. Razi, Zvi. Life, Marriage and Death in a Medieval Parish: Economy, Society and Demography in Halesowen 1270-1400. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980. Ring, Richard R. “Early Medieval Peasant Households in Central Italy,” Journal of Family History, 4 (1979), pp. 2-25. Russell, Josiah Cox. The Control of Late Ancient and Medieval Population. Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1985. Russell, Josiah Cox. Late Ancient and Medieval Populations. Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1958. Russell, Josiah Cox. Medieval Demography. New York: AMS Press, 1987. Smith, R. M. “The People of Tuscany and Their Families in the Fifteenth Century: Medieval or Mediterranean?” Journal of Family History, 6 (1981), pp. 107-28. Stow, Kenneth R. “The Jewish Family in the Rhineland in the High Middle Ages: Form

and Function,” American Historical Review, 92 (1987), pp. 1085-1110. Trexler, Richard C. “Infanticide in Florence: New Sources and First Results,” History of Childhood Quarterly, 1 (1973-74), pp. 98-116. Wall, Richard, ed., with Jean Robin and Peter Laslett. Family Forms in Historic Europe. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983.

BIBLIOGRAPHY 399 VI. MODERN EUROPE Bengtsson, Tommy, Gunnar Fridlizius, and Rolf Ohlsson, eds. Pre-Industrial Population Change: The Mortality Decline and Short-Term Population Movements. Stockholm: Almqvist and Wiksell, 1984. Berent, Jerzy. “Fertility and Family Planning in Europe Around 1970: A Comparative Study of Twelve National Surveys,” Population Index, 40 (1974), front cover

and p. 441. Birdsall, Nancy. “Fertility and Economic Change in Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century Europe: A Comment,” Population and Development Review, 9 (1983), pp. 111-23. Charbonneau, Hubert, and Andre LaRose, eds. The Great Mortalities: Methodological Studies of Demographic Crises in the Past. Liege: Ordina Editions, n.d. Coale, Ansley J., and Susan Cott Watkins, eds. The Decline of Fertility in Europe. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1986. Cohen, Joel E. “Childhood Mortality, Family Size and Birth Order in Pre-Industrial Europe,” Demography, 12 (1975), pp. 35-55. Flinn, Michael W. The European Demographic System, 1500-1820. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1981. Gaskin, Catharine. “Age at First Marriage in Europe Before 1850: A Summary of Family Reconstitution Data,” Journal of Family History, 3 (1978), pp. 23-36. Goody, Jack. The Development of the Family and Marriage in Europe. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983. Johansson; Sheila Ryan. “Centuries of Childhood/Centuries of Parenting: Philippe Aries and the Modernization of Privileged Infancy,” Journal of Family History,

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Kertzer, David I. “A Life Course Approach to Coresidence,” Current Perspectives on Aging and the Life Cycle, 2 (1986), pp. 1-22. Kertzer, David I. “Anthropology and Family History,” Journal of Family History, 9 (1984), pp. 201-15. Kertzer, David I. “The Joint Family Revisited: Demographic Constraints and Household Complexity in the European Past,” privately circulated draft article, 1988. Krause, John T. “Some Implications of Recent Work in Historical Demography,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 1 (1959), pp. 164-88. Kriedte, Peter, Hans Medick, and Jurgen Schlumbohn, translated by Beate Schempp. Industrialization Before Industrialization: Rural Industry in the Genesis of Capitalism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981. Langer, William L. “Infanticide: A Historical Survey,” History of Childhood Quarterly,

1 (1973-74), pp. 353-65; 2 (1974-75), pp. 129-34. Lesthaeghe, Ron. “A Century of Demographic and Cultural Change in Western Europe: An Exploration of Underlying Dimensions,” Population and Development Review, 9 (1983), pp. 411-35. Levine, David, ed. Proletarianization and Family History. Orlando, Fla.: Academic Press, 1984. Livi-Bacci, Massimo, translated by Tania Croft-Murray. Population and Nutrition: An Essay on European Demographic History. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990. Muir, Edward, and Guido Ruggiero, eds., translated by Margaret A. Gallucci. Sex and

400 BIBLIOGRAPHY Gender in Historical Perspective. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1990. Outhwaite, RK. B., ed. Marriage and Society: Studies in the Social History of Marriage. London: Europa, 1981. Tabutin, Dominique. “The Excess Mortality of Women in Europe Before 1940,” Popu-

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Medicine, 15 (1981), pp. 341-52. Wall, Richard, ed., with Jean Robin and Peter Laslett. Family Forms in Historic Europe. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983. Wall, Richard, and Jay Winter, eds. The Upheaval of War: Family, Work and Welfare in Europe, 1914-1918. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988. Wheaton, Robert. “Family Kinship in Western Europe: The Problem of the Joint Family Household,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History, 4 (1975), pp. 601-28.

VII. ENGLAND, IRELAND, SCOTLAND, AND WALES Flinn, Michael, Judith Gillespie, Nancy Hill, Ailsa Maxwell, Rosalind Mitchison, and Christopher Smout. Scottish Population History from the 17th Century to the 1930s. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977. Gillis, John R. For Better, For Worse: British Marriages, 1600 to the Present. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1985. Houlbrooke, Ralph A. The English Family, 1450-1700. Harlow: Longman, 1984. Levine, David. Reproducing Families: The Political Economy of English Population History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987. Loschky, David J., and Donald F. Krier. “Income and Family Size in Three EighteenthCentury Lancashire Parishes,” Journal of Economic History, 29 (1969), pp. 429-48. Macfarlane, Alan. Marriage and Love in England: Modes of Reproduction 1300-1840. Oxford: Blackwell, 1986. Martin, J. M. “An Investigation into the Small Size of the Household, as Exemplified by Stratford-on-Avon,” Local Population Studies, 19 (1977), pp. 11-22. Outhwaite, R. B. “Age at Marriage in England from the Late Seventeenth to the Nineteenth Century,” Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, 23 (1973), pp. 55-70. Patten, John. English Towns 1500-1700. Hamden: Archon, 1978. Robinson, Diane, and Steven Pinch. “A Geographical Analysis of the Relationship Between Early Childhood Death and Socio-Economic Environment in an English City,” Social Science and Medicine, 25 (1987), pp. 9-18. Shanley, Mary Lyndon. Feminism, Marriage, and the Law in Victorian England, 18501895. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1989. Smith, Richard M. “Fertility, Economy, and Household Formation in England over

Three Centuries,” Population and Development Review, 7 (1981), pp. 595-623. Smith, Richard M., ed. Land, Kinship and Life-Cycle. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984.

BIBLIOGRAPHY 401 Stavins, Robert. “A Model of English Demographic Change: 1573-1873,” Explorations in Economic History, 25 (1988), pp. 98-116. Stone, Lawrence. The Family, Sex, and Marriage in England 1500-1800. New York: Harper and Kow, 1977. Stone, Lawrence. Road to Divorce: England 1530-1987. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990. Woods, Robert, and P. R. Andrew Hinde. “Mortality in Victorian England: Models and Patterns,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History, 18 (1987), pp. 27-54. Wrigley, E. Anthony. People, Cities and Wealth: The Transformation of Traditional Society. Oxford: Blackwell, 1987. Wrigley, E. Anthony, and Roger Schofield. The Population History of England, 1541-

1871: A Reconstruction. London: Edward Arnold, 1981.

VIII. FRANCE AND THE LOW COUNTRIES Accampo, Elinor. /ndustrialization, Family Life, and Class Relations: Saint Chamoud, 1815-1914. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989. Berkner, Lutz, and John Shaffer. “The Joint Family in the Nivernais,” Journal of Fam-

ily History, 5 (1980), pp. 150-62. Bideau, Alain. “A Demographic and Social Analysis of Widowhood and Remarriage: The Example of the Castellany of Thoissey-en-Dombes, 1670-1840,” Journal

of Family History, 5 (1980), pp. 28-43. Biget, Jean-Louis, and Jean Tricard. “‘Livre de Raison’: Family Demography in the Limousin in the Fifteenth Century,” Annales de Demographie Historique, 1981, pp. 321-63. Fuchs, Rachel G., and Leslie Page Moch. “Pregnant, Single, and Far from Home: Migrant Women in Nineteenth-Century Paris,” American Historical Review, 95

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Goubert, Pierre. “Family and Province: A Contribution to the Knowledge of Family Structures in Early Modern France,” Journal of Family History, 2 (1977), pp. 179-95. Gutmann, Myron P. War and Rural Life in the Early Modern Low Countries. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1980. Heywood, Colin. Childhood in Nineteenth-Century France: Work, Health and Education Among the ‘Classes Populaires.’ New York: Cambridge University Press, 1988.

Houdaille, Jacques, and others. “Declining Fertility Rates in the Garonne Valley (1740-1869),” Population, 42 (1987), pp. 503-26. Lynch, Katherine A. Family, Class and Ideology in Early Industrial France: Social Policy and the Working-Class Family. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1988. Lynch, Katherine A. “Marriage Age Among French Factory Workers: An Alsatian Ex-

ample,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History, 16 (1986), pp. 405-29. Moch, Leslie Page. “Marriage, Migration, and Urban Demographic Structure: A Case

from France in the Belle Epoque,” Journal of Family History, 6 (1981), pp. 70-88.

Schellekens, Jona. “Analyzing Demographic Characteristics and Change in an

402 BIBLIOGRAPHY Eighteenth-Century Agricultural Population in the Netherlands.” November 28, 1988, presentation at Population Studies Center, University of Michigan. Segalen, Martine, translated by M. C. Whitehouse and Sarah Matthews. Historical Anthropology of the Family. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986. Tilly, Louise. “The Family Wage Economy of a French Textile City: Roubaix, 1892-

1906,” Journal of Family History, 4 (1979), pp. 381-94. Watkins, Susan Cott. “From Peasants into Frenchwomen.” Paper presented at the 1988 Chicago meeting of Social Science History Association. Weir, David. Life Under Pressure: Questions for a Comparative History of Economy and Demography in France and England, 1670-1870. New Haven, Conn.: Yale Economic Growth Center, 1982. Wheaton, Robert, and Tamara K. Hareven, eds. Family and Sexuality in French History. 1980. Special issue of Journal of Family History.

IX. SCANDINAVIA AND THE BALTIC Akerman, Sune, Hans Christian Johansen, and David Gaunt, eds. Chance and Change: Social and Economic Studies in Historical Demography in the Baltic Area. Odense: Odense University Press, 1978. Bostofte, Erik, Jorgen Serup, and Heinrich Rebbe, “How the Fertility of Danish Men Declined ... Between 1952 and 1972,” International Journal of Fertility. 28 (1983), pp. 91-95. Brandstrom, Anders, Goran Brustrom, and Lars Ake Persson, “The Impact of Feeding Patterns on Infant Mortality in a Nineteenth Century Swedish Parish,” Journal of Tropical Pediatrics, 30 (1984), pp. 154-59.

Drake, Michael. Population and Society in Norway, 1735-1865. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969. Egerbladh, Inez. “From Complex to Simple Family Households: Structural Changes of Rural Households in Northern Sweden circa 1700-1900.” Paper presented at the 1988 Chicago meeting of Social Science History Association. Gunnlaugson, Gisli Agust. Family and Household in Iceland, 1801-1930. Stockholm: Almqvist and Wiksell International, 1988.

Hemminki, Kari, Pentti Kyyronen, Marja-Liisa Niemi, Kari Koskinen, Markku Sallmen, and Harri Vainio. “Spontaneous Abortions in an Industrialized Community in Finland,” American Journal of Public Health, 73 (1983), pp. 32-37. Hofsten, Erland, and Hans Lundstrom. Swedish Population History: Main Trends from 1750-1970. Stockholm: National Central Bureau of Statistics, 1976. Hyrenius, Hannes. The Reindeer-Farming Population in Sweden. Gothenburg: University of Gothenburg Demographic Institute, 1969. Lindgren, Jarl, ed. Yearbook of Population Research in Finland 1987. Helsinki: n.p., 1987. Lutz, Wolfgang, and Kari Pitkanen. “Tracing Back the Eighteenth-Century Nuptiality

Transition in Finland,” Population Index, 53 (1987), p. 379. Mosk, Carl. Patriarchy and Fertility: Japan and Sweden, 1880-1960. New York: Academic Press, 1983. Parming, Tome. “Long-Term Trends in Family Structure in a Soviet Republic,” Sociol-

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BIBLIOGRAPHY 403 Pitkanen, Kari, ed. Yearbook of Population Research in Finland 1983. Helsinki: n.p., 1983. Plakans, Andrejs. “Interaction Between the Household and the Kin Group in the Eastern European Past: Posing the Problem,” Journal of Family History, 12 (1987), pp. 163-75. Plakans, Andrejs, and Charles Wetherell. “The Kinship Domain in an East European Peasant Community: Pinkerhof, 1833-1850,” American Historical Review, 93 (1988), pp. 359-86.

Whitaker, Ian. Social Relations in a Nomadic Lappish Community. Oslo: Norsk Folkemuseum, 1955. Zvidrinsh, Peteris. “Demographic Transition in Latvia,” Beitrage zur Demographie, 7

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Feichtinger, Gustav, and Harald Hansluwka. “The Impact of Mortality on the Life Cycle of the Family in Austria,” Zeitschrift fur Bevolkerungwissenschaftt, 4 (1977), pp. 51-79. Imhof, Arthur E. “Historical Demography as Social History,” Journal of Family History, 2 (1977), pp. 305-22. Knodel, John E. Demographic Behavior in the Past: A Study of Fourteen German Village Populations in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries. Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press, 1988. Knodel, John E. “Demographic History in a Bavarian Village,” Population Studies, 24

(1970), pp. 353-76. Knodel, John E., and Mary Jo Maynes. “Urban and Rural Marriage Patterns in Imper-

ial Germany,” Journal of Family History, 1 (1976), pp. 129-68. Netting, Robert McC. “Household Dynamics in a Nineteenth-Century Swiss Village,”

Journal of Family History, 4 (1979), pp. 39-58. Perrenoud, Alfred. “Growth or Decline? The Mechanisms of Non-Replacement of Urban Populations,” Histoire, Economie et Societe, 4 (1982), pp. 581-602.

XI. RUSSIA AND SLAVIC EASTERN EUROPE Anderson, Barbara A., and Brian D. Anderson. The Changing Shape of Soviet Mortality, 1958-1985: An Evaluation of Old and New Evidence. Ann Arbor: University

of Michigan Population Studies Center, 1987. Research Report #87-111. Andorka, Rudolf, and Sandor Balazs-Kovacs. “The Social Demography of Hungarian Villages in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries with Special Attention to Sarpilis, 1792-1804,” Journal of Family History, 11 (1986), pp. 169-92. Buckley, Cynthia J. “Mortality Patterns in Eastern Europe.” November 8, 1988, presentation at Population Studies Center, University of Michigan. Byrnes, Robert F., ed. Communal Families in the Balkans: The Zadruga. South Bend, Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press, 1976. Capo, Jasna. Socio-Historical Analysis of a Croatian Village. Zagreb: Institute of Folklore Research, 1987. Coale, Ansley J., Barbara A. Anderson, and Erna Harm. Human Fertility in Russia

404 BIBLIOGRAPHY Since the Nineteenth Century. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1979. Dunn, Ethel D. “The Family in a Multi-Ethnic Society: Problems of Social Change and Socialization in the USSR,” Slavic and European Education Review, 1982-83, pp. 58-69. Geiger, Kurt. The Family in Soviet Russia. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1968. Gray, Francine du Plessix. Soviet Women: Walking the Tightrope. New York: Doubleday, 1990. Hammel, Eugene A. “Short-Term Demographic Fluctuations in the Austrian Military

Border, 1830-1847,” Poplation Index, 50 (1984), p. 447. Kiss, Istfan N. “New Data Series for the Analysis of the Rural and Urban Family Structure of Hungary in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries,” Demografia, 26

(1983), pp. 2-3, 352-73. McIntyre, Robert. “The Bulgarian Anomaly: Demographic Transition and Current Fer-

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Gerontologist, 25 (1985), pp. 201-08. Piontek, Janusz, and Maciej Henneberg. “Mortality Changes in a Polish Rural Community (1350-1972) and Estimation of Their Evolutionary Significance,” American Journal of Physical Anthropology, 54 (1981), pp. 129-38. Ransel, David L. Mothers of Misery: Child Abandonment in Russia. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1990. Ransel, David L., ed. The Family in Imperial Russia. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1978.

XII. MEDITERRANEAN EUROPE Brandes, Stanley H. “La Solteria, or Why People Remain Single in Rural Spain,” Jour-

nal of Anthropological Research, 32 (1976), pp. 205-33. Breschi, Marco, and Massimo Livi-Bacci. “Season of Birth and Climate as Determinants of Infant Mortality in the Mainland Part of the Kingdom of Sardinia,” Genus, 42 (1986), pp. 1-2, 87-101. Brettell, Caroline B. Men Who Migrate, Women Who Wait: Population and History in a Portuguese Parish. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1986. da Molin, Giovanna. “Abandoned Children in Italian Towns in the Eighteenth and

Nineteenth Centuries,” Annales de Demographie Historique, 1983, pp. 103-24. Douglass, William A. “The South Italian Family: A Critique,” Journal of Family His-

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2 (1977), pp. 333-49. Kertzer, David I., and Dennis P. Hogan. Family, Political Economy, and Demographic Change: The Transformation of Life in Casalecchio, Italy, 1861-1921. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1989. Livi-Bacci, Massimo. “Fertility and Nuptiality Change in Spain,” Population Studies,

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BIBLIOGRAPHY 405 Peristiany, J. G., ed. Mediterranean Family Structure. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-

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tionary Implications,” Human Biology, 52 (1980), pp. 731-52. Wilson, Stephen. “Infanticide, Child Abandonment, and Female Honour in Nineteenth-Century Corsica,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 30 (1988), pp. 762-83.

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ity,” Journal of Biosocial Science, 17 (1985), pp. 481-96. Al Achkar, Ahmad, and David F. Sly. “The Income, Expenditures and Net Expenditures of Children in Households in Rural Syria,” Population Bulletin, 30

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Al-Rubeai, M.A.F., Amina S. Abdulla, and Elmer Gray. “Analysis of the Human Sex

Ratio: Factors Influencing Family Size in Libya,” Journal of Heredity, 74 (1983), pp. 39-42. Allman, James. “The Demographic Transition in the Middle East and North Africa,” International Journal of Middle East Studies, 12 (1980), pp. 277-301. Allman, James, ed. Women’s Status and Fertility in the Muslim World. New York:

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Beck, Lois, and Nikki Keddie, eds. Women in the Muslim World. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1978. Behar, Cem. “Muslim Pioneers of Fertility Decline: Istanbul (1880-1940).” Privately circulated draft paper, n.d. Behar, Cem. Nuptiality and Marriage Patterns in Istanbul (1883-1940). Istanbul: Bogazici University Institute of Social Science Research, 1985. Behar, Cem. Some Data on Polygyny in Istanbul (1885-1926). Istanbul: Bogazici University Institute of Social Science Research, 1986. Brink, Judy H. “The Effect of Emigration of Husbands on the Status of Their Wives: An Egyptian Case,” International Journal of Middle East Studies, 23 (1991), pp. 201-11. Centre d’Etudes et de Recherches Demographiques. Female Nuptiality in Morocco: Spatial and Temporal Variations. Rabat: Centre d’Etudes et de Recherches Demographiques, 1987. In French. Clarke, John I. “Islamic Populations: Limited Demographic Transition,” Geography,

70 (1985), pt. 2, pp. 118-28. Cohen, Amnon, and Bernard Lewis. Population and Revenue in the Towns of Palestine in the Sixteenth Century. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1978. Cook, Michael A. Population Pressure in Rural Anatolia, 1450-1600. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1972.

406 BIBLIOGRAPHY Duben, Alan. “Household Formation in Late Ottoman Istanbul,” International Journal

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1885-1985,” Population (Paris), 2 (1986), pp. 205-32. In French. Fargues, Philippe. “The Demography of Arab-Muslim Marriage: Tradition and Change,” Monde Arabe: Maghreb-Machreb, 116 (1987), pp. 59-73. In French. Fargues, Philippe. “The Fertility Transition in the Arab Lands.” May 1988 presentation at Centre de la Mediterranee Moderne et Contemporaine in Nice, France. In French. Farhud, D. D., M. S. Kamali, M. Marzban, and N. Nevisi. “Sex Ratio in the Iranian

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Kuwait,” Journal of Biosocial Science, 18 (1986), pp. 197-208. Lewis, Bernard. Race and Slavery in the Middle East. New York: Oxford University Press, 1990. McCarthy, Justin. “Age, Family, and Migration in Nineteenth-Century Black Sea Provinces of the Ottoman Empire,” International Journal of Middle East Studies, 10 (1979), pp. 309-23. McCarthy, Justin. Muslims and Minorities: The Population of Ottoman Anatolia and the End of the Empire. New York: New York University Press, 1983. McCarthy, Justin. The Population of Palestine. New York: Columbia University Press, 1990. Muhsam, H. V. Beduin of the Negev. Jerusalem: Jerusalem Academic Press, 1966. Nasir, Jamal J. The Islamic Law of Personal Status. 2d ed. London: Graham and Trotman, 1990. Prothro, Edwin T., and Lutfy Najib Diab. Changing Family Patterns in the Arab East.

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BIBLIOGRAPHY 407 Shorter, Frederic C., and Miroslav Macura. Trends in Fertility and Mortality in Turkey, 1935-1975. Washington, D.C.: National Academy Press, 1982. Toth, James. “Pride, Purdah, or Paychecks: What Maintains the Gender Division of

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larities and Contrasts with Europe,” Population Studies, 41 (1987), pp. 187-206. Rindfuss, Robert, Larry Bumpass, James Palmore, Mercedes Concepcion, Datin Noor Laily bint Dato Abu Bakr, Sirisena Gamage, Chanpen Saengtienchai, and Nam Kim. Childspacing in Asia: Similarities and Differences. Voorburg: International Statistical Institute, 1984. Rindfuss, Robert, and S. Philip Morgan. “Marriage, Sex, and the First Birth Interval: The Quiet Revolution in Asia,” Population and Development Review, 9 (1983),

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XV. INDIA Anker, Richard, and Martha Anker. Reproductive Behavior in Households of Rural Gujerat. New Delhi: Concept, 1982. Bebarta, Prafulla C. Family Type and Fertility in India. North Quincey, Mass.: Christopher Publishing House, 1977. Bhat, Mari, and R. Kanbargi. “Estimating the Incidence of Widow and Widower ReMarriages in India from Census Data,” Population Studies, 39 (1984), pp. 89-103. Billig, Michael S. “The Marriage Squeeze on High-Caste Rajasthani Women,” Journal of Asian Studies, 50 (1991), pp. 341-60. Borooah, Guna Lata. Population Geography of Assam: A Study of Dibrugarh District: 1872-1971. Delhi: Mittal, 1985. Caldwell, John C., P. J. Reddy, and Pat Caldwell. “The Causes of Marriage Change in South India,” Population Studies, 37 (1983), pp. 343-61. Caldwell, John C., P. J. Reddy, and Pat Caldwell. “The Determinants of Family Structure in Rural South India,” Journal of Marriage and the Family, 46 (1984), pp. 215-29. Cassen, Robert H. India: Population, Economy, Society. London: Macmillan, 1978. Chari, R. B., ed. Demographic Trends in India. Delhi: Sharma and Bhatia, 1975. Coale, Ansley J., and Edgar M. Hoover. Population Growth and Economic Development in Low-Income Countries: A Case Study of India’s Prospects. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1958. Collver, Andrew. “The Family Cycle in India and the United States,” American Anthro-

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408 BIBLIOGRAPHY Dandekar, Hemalata C. Men to Bombay, Women at Home: Urban Influence on Sugao

Village, Deccan Maharashtra, India, 1942-1982. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Center for South and Southeast Asian Studies, 1987. Das Gupta, Monica. “Selective Discrimination Against Female Children in Rural Punjab, India,” Population and Development Review, 13 (1987), pp. 77-100. Desai, P. B. Size and Sex Composition of Population in India, 1901-1961. Bombay: Asia Publishing House, 1969. Driver, Edwin. Differential Fertility in Central India. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1963. Dutt, P. R., T. Rajaretram, K. Ramachandra Sasty, and C. Ramanujam. “Determinants of Fertility in Athoor Block, Tamil Nadu, India,” Fertility Determinants Re-

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50 (1984), pp. 449-50. Hobbs, Frank B. Demographic Estimates, Projections and Selected Social Characteristics of the Population of India. Washington, D.C.: Bureau of the Census, 1986. Jain, Andrudh K., and Pravin Visaria, eds. Infant Mortality in India: Differentials and Determinants. New Delhi: Sage, 1988. Kolenda, Pauline Mahar. “Family Structures in Village Lonikand, India: 1819, 1958

and 1967,” Contributions to Indian Sociology, New Series, 4 (1970), pp. 50-72. Kolenda, Pauline Mahar. Regional Differences in Family Structure in India. Jaipur: Rawar Publications, 1987. Kothari, Devendra K. “Household Structure and Migration Behavior in India,” Popula-

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Marriage in India,” Demography India, 6 (1977), pp. 182-92. Kumar, Dharma, ed. Cambridge Economic History of India, Vol. 2. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983. Kurian, George, ed. The Family in India: A Regional View. The Hague: Mouton, 1974. Mahadevan, K., ed. Fertility and Mortality: Theory, Methodology and Empirical Issues.

New Delhi: Sage, 1986. McAlpin, Michelle B. “Famines, Epidemics, and Population Growth: The Case of India,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History, 14 (1983), pp. 351-70. Miller, Barbara Diane. The Endangered Sex: Neglect of Female Children in Rural North India. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1981. Miller, Barbara Diane. “Female Infanticide and Marriage Payments in the Punjab Region of South Asia.” Paper presented at the 1986 St. Louis meeting of Social Science History Association. Miller, Barbara Diane. “Regional and Class Variation in Gender-Differentiated Juvenile

BIBLIOGRAPHY 409 Mortality in India.” Paper presented at the 1990 Chicago meeting of Association for Asian Studies. Minturn, L. “Changes in the Differential Treatment of Rajput Girls in Khalapur: 19551975,” Medical Anthropology, 8 (1984), pp. 127-32. Mitra, Asok. India’s Population: Aspects of Quality and Control. 2 vols. New Delhi: Abhinavi, 1978. Orenstein, Henry, and Michael Miklin. “The Hindu Joint Family: The Norms and the Numbers,” Pacific Affairs, 39 (1966), pp. 314-25. Prabhakara, N. R. /nternal Migration and Population Redistribution in India: Some Reflections. New Delhi: Concept, 1986. Premi, Mahendra K. The Demographic Situation in India. Honolulu: East-West Population Institute, 1982. Ramu, G. N. Women, Work and Marriage in Urban India: A Study of Dual- and SingleEarner Couples. Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage, 1989. Rosenzweig, Mark R., and Oded Stark. Consumption Smoothing, Migration, and Marriage: Evidence from India. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Center for Population Studies, September 1987. Migration and Development Discussion

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Sinha, U.P. Dynamics of Population and Family Welfare in India. Bombay: Popular Prakashan, 1979. Srinivasan, K., and S. Mukerji, eds. Dynamics of Population and Family Welfare in India. Bombay: Popular Prakashan, 1979. Trautmann, Thomas R. Dravidian Kinship. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981. Wiser, Charlotte, and William Wiser. Behind Mud Walls. With a sequel by Charlotte Wiser and a new chapter by Susan S. Wadley. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989. Yadav, R. C., and B. N. Singh. “Presence of Daughters-in-Law in the Household: A Good Contraceptive,” Demography India, 15 (1986), pp. 249-52.

XVI. SOUTH ASIA OTHER THAN INDIA Bairagi, Radheshyam. “Food Crisis, Nutrition, and Female Children in Rural Bangladesh,” Population and Development Review, 12 (1986), pp. 307-15, 377-79. Caldwell, John C., Indra Gajanayake, Bruce Caldwell, and Pat Caldwell. “Is Marriage Delay a Multiphasic Response to Pressures for Fertility Decline? The Case of Sri Lanka.” Privately circulated draft paper, 1988. Carter, Anthony T. “Sex of Offspring and Fertility in South Asia: Demographic Variance and Decision Procedures in Joint Family Households,” Journal of Family

History, 9 (1984), pp. 273-90. DeVos, Susan, and K. Radhakrishna Murty. Life Course Characteristics and Household Structure in Sri Lanka, 1975. Madison: University of Wisconsin Center for Demography and Ecology, 1983. Working Paper #83-17. Fricke, Thomas E. Himalayan Households: Tamang Demography and Domestic Processes. Ann Arbor, Mich.: UMI Research Press, 1986. Gubhaju, Bhakta. “Fertility Differentials in Nepal,” Journal of Biosocial Science, 15 (1983), pp. 325-31.

410 BIBLIOGRAPHY Levine, Nancy E. “Differential Child Care in Three Tibetan Communities: Beyond Son Preference,” Population and Development Review, 13 (1987), pp. 281-305.

Nadarajah, T. “The Transition from Higher Female to Higher Male Mortality in Sri Lanka,” Population and Development Review, 9 (1983), pp. 317-25, 398, 400. Schuler, Sidney Ruth. The Other Side of Polyandry: Property, Stratification, and Nonmarriage in the Nepal Himalayas. Boulder, Colo.: Westview, 1987. Schultz, T. Paul. “The Decline of Fertility and Child Mortality and Their Interaction in East Pakistan,” Population Index, 37 (1971), pp. 167-68. Shaikh, Kashem, K.M.A. Aziz, and A. I]. Chowdhury. “Differentials of Fertility Between

Polygynous and Monogamous Marriages in Rural Bangladesh,” Journal! of Biosocial Science, 19 (1987), pp. 49-56. Tan, Jee-Peng. “Marital Fertility at Older Ages in Nepal, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka,”

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XVII. SOUTHEAST ASIA Abu Bakr, Noor Laily bint Dato, Tan Boon Ann, Tey Nai Peng, and Rohani Abdul Razak, with the assistance of Nazileh Ramli, Khalipah Mohammed Tora, and Ng Tuck Seng. Ethnicity and Fertility in Malaysia. Singapore: Institute of South-

east Asian Studies, 1985. Arce, Wilfredo F., and Gabriel C. Alvarez, eds. Population Change in Southeast Asia. Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 1983. Caces, Fe, Robert Gardner, and James T. Fawcett. “Shadow Households and Competing Auspices: Migration Behavior in the Philippines,” Population Index, 48 (1982), p. 477. Chamrathrithirong, Aphichat, S. Philip Morgan, and Ronald R. Rindfuss. “When to Marry and Where to Live?” A Sociological Study of Post-Nuptial Residence and Age of Marriage Among Central Thai Women. Bangkok: Mahidol University In-

stitute for Population and Social Research, 1986. Paper #102. Concepcion, Mercedes B. “Some Socio-Economic Correlates of Family Size, 1960,” Philippine Sociological Review, 12 (1974), pp. 16-26. Cowan, C. D., ed. The Economic Development of Southeast Asia. New York: Praeger, 1964. Eder, James F. On the Road to Tribal Extinction: Depopulation, Deculturation, and Adaptive Well-Being Among the Batak of the Philippines. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987. Fisher, Charles A. The Economic Development of Southeast Asia: Studies in Economic History and Political Economy. New York: Praeger, 1964. Freedman, Ronald, Siew-Ean Khoo, and Bondan Supraptilah. Modern Contraceptive Use in Indonesia: A Challenge to Conventional Wisdom. Voorburg: International Statistical Institute, 1981. Frenzen, Paul D., and Dennis P. Hogan. “The Impact of Class, Education, and Health Care on Infant Mortality ina Developing Society: The Case of Thailand,” Popu-

lation Index, 48 (1982), p. 481. Gastardo-Conaco, Maria Cecilia, and Pilar Ramos-Jimenez. Ethnicity and Fertility in the Philippines. Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 1986. Geertz, Clifford. The Javanese Family. Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1961.

BIBLIOGRAPHY 411 Hendershot, Gerry E. “Cityward Migration and Urban Fertility in the Philippines,”

Population Index, 37 (1971), p. 67. ] Hull, Valerie J. “Intermediate Variables in the Explanation of Differential Fertility,” Human Biology, 8 (1980), pp. 213-43. Jones, Gavin W. “Malay Marriage and Divorce in Peninsular Malaysia: Three Decades of Change,” Population and Development Review, 7 (1981), pp. 255-78. Jones, L. W. The Population of Borneo: A Study of the Peoples of Sarawak, Sabah and Brunei. London: Athlone, 1966. Kantner, John F., and Lee McCaffrey, eds. Population and Development in Southeast Asia. Lexington, Mass.: D. C. Heath, 1975. Kingkade, W. Ward, and John Fulton. “Analysis of the Migrant and Native Shares of Urban Growth in Thailand, 1965-1970,” Population Index, 46 (1980), p. 1029. Knodel, John, Napaporn Howanon, and Anthony Pramualratana. “Fertility Transition in Thailand: A Qualitative Analysis,” Population and Development Review, 10 (1984), pp. 297-329. Kunstadter, Peter, Sally Lennington Kunstadter, and Prasat Ritnetikul. “Demographic Variables in Fetal and Child Mortality: The Hmong in Thailand.” Paper presented at the 1990 Chicago meeting of Association for Asian Studies. Leete, Richard, and K. K. Kwok. “Demographic Studies in East Malaysia and Their Relationship with Those in the Peninsula 1960-1980,” Population Studies, 40 (1986), pp. 83-100. Luong, Hy Van. “Vietnamese Kinship: Structural Principles and the Socialist Transfor-

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Trends in Fertility and Mortality in Indonesia. Honolulu: East-West Population

Owen, Norman G. “The Paradox of Nineteenth-Century Population Growth in Southeast Asia: Evidence from Java and the Philippines,” Journal of Southeast Asian

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Owen, Norman G., ed. Death and Disease in Southeast Asia: Explorations in Social,

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tion in Malaysia,” Population Index, 39 (1973), pp. 340-41. Reid, Anthony. “The Seventeenth Century Crisis in Southeast Asia.” Paper presented at the 1989 Washington meeting of Association for Asian Studies. Reid, Anthony. Southeast Asia in the Age of Commerce, 1450-1680, Vol. 1. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1988. Ricklefs, M. C. “Some Statistical Evidence on Javanese Social, Economic and Demo-

412 BIBLIOGRAPHY graphic History in the Later Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries,” Modern Asian Studies, 20 (1986), pp. 1-32. Skinner, William F. “Modernization and Family Extension in the Philippines: A Social Demographic Analysis,” Journal of Marriage and the Family, 41 (1979), pp. 161-68. Smith/Xenos, Peter C. “Crisis Mortality in the Nineteenth Century Philippines: Data

from Parish Records,” Journal of Asian Studies, 38 (1978), pp. 51-76. Smith/Xenos, Peter C., and Shui-Meng Ng. “The Demography of a NineteenthCentury Peasant Community in Southeast Asia,” Population Index, 46 (1980),

p. 378. Streatfield, Peter K. Fertility Decline in a Traditional Society: The Case of Bali. 1982 Ph.D. dissertation at Australian National University, Canberra. Suchart, Prasithrathsint. Ethnicity and Fertility in Thailand. Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 1985. Tan, Mely G., and Budi Soeradji. Ethnicity and Fertility in Indonesia. Singapore: Insti-

tute of Southeast Asian Studies, 1986. Wolf, Diane L. “Gender and Generation in Rural Javanese Households.” Paper presented at the 1990 Chicago meeting of Association for Asian Studies. Xenos, Peter C. “Mortality and the Demographic Balance in 19th Century Southeast Asia.” Paper presented at the 1990 Chicago meeting of Association for Asian Studies.

XVIII. CHINA Banister, Judith. China’s Changing Population. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1987. Barclay, George W., Ansley J. Coale, Michael Stoto, and T. James Trussell. “A Reassessment of the Demography of Traditional Rural China,” Population Index, 42 (1976), pp. 605-35. Barrett, Richard E. “Short-Term Trends in Bastardy in Taiwan,” Journal of Family His-

tory, 5 (1980), pp. 293-312. Chang, Ming-Cheng, Ronald Freedman, and Te-Hsiung Sun. “Trends in Fertility, Family Size Preferences, and Family Planning Practice: Taiwan: 1961-85,” Studies

in Family Planning, 18 (1987), pp. 320-37. Chen, Junshi, T. Colin Campbell, Li Junyao, and Richard Peto, eds. Diet, Life-Style, and Mortality in China: A Study of the Characteristics of 65 Chinese Counties. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1991. Coale, Ansley J., Wang Fong, Nancy E. Riley, and Lin Fu De. “Recent Trends in Fertility and Nuptiality in China,” Science, 251 (1991), pp. 389-93. Elvin, Mark. The Pattern of the Chinese Past. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1973. Freedman, Ronald. “Policy Options After the Demographic Transition: The Case of Taiwan,” Population and Development Review, 12 (1986), pp. 77-100. Freedman, Ronald, Ming-Cheng Chang, and Te-Hsiung Sun. “Household Composition, Extended Kinship and Reproduction in Taiwan: 1973-1980,” Population Studies, 36 (1982), pp. 395-411. Freedman, Ronald, Xiao Zhouyu, Li Bohua, and William R. Lavely. “Education and

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tion Journal, 3 (1987), pp. 3-30. Freedman, Ronald, Xiao Zhouyu, Li Bohua, and William R. Lavely. “Local Area Variations in Reproductive Behaviour in the People’s Republic of China, 1973-82,”

Population Studies, 42 (1988), pp. 39-57. Gilbert, Debbie. “Arranged Marriages Banned in China But Government Discourages Dating,” LSA Magazine (Ann Arbor, Michigan), Spring 1991, p. 31. Goldstein, Melvyn C., and Cynthia M. Beall. “China’s Birth Control Policy in Tibet Au-

tonomous Region: Myths and Realities,” Asian Survey, 31 (1991), pp. 285-303. Greenhalgh, Susan. “The Evolution of the One-Child Policy in Shaanxi, 1979-88,” China Quarterly, #122 (1990), pp. 191-229. Hermalin, Albert, and Ronald Freedman. “Familial Change in Taiwan.” January 15, 1991, presentation at Chinese Studies Center, University of Michigan. Hsieh, Kao-Chiao. “Demographic Modernization,” Journal of Population Studies (Tai-

wan), 6 (1982), pp. 69-85. Huang, Philip C. C. The Peasant Family and Rural Development in the Yangzi Delta, 1350-1988. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1990. Judd, Ellen R. “Niangjia: Chinese Women and Their Natal Families,” Journal of Asian

Studies, 48 (1989), pp. 525-44. Lee, James. “Food Supply and Population Growth in Southwest China, 1250-1850,”

Journal of Asian Studies, 41 (1982), pp. 711-46. Lee, James, Cameron Campbell, and Guofu Tan. Price and Population History in Rural Fengtien 1772-1873. Pasadena: California Institute of Technology Humanities Working Paper #137, 1988. Lee, James, and Robert Y. Eng. “Population and Family History in Eighteenth Century China,” Ch’ing-shih Wen-t’i, 5 (1984), pp. 1-55. Lee, James, and Jon Gjerde. “Interaction of the Life Course and Household Structure: Some Empirical Results.” Paper presented at the 1988 Chicago meeting of Social Science History Association. Li, Chengrui. New China’s Population. New York: Macmillan, 1988. Liu, Ying. “Marriage and the Family,” Beijing Review, May 23-29, 1988, pp. 23-25. Peng, Xizhe. “Major Determinants of China’s Fertility Transition,” China Quarterly,

#117 (1989), pp. 1-37. Poston, Dudley L., Jr., and Baochang Gu. Socioeconomic Differentials and Fertility in the Provinces, Municipalities and Autonomous Regions of the People’s Republic of China, circa 1982. Austin: University of Texas Population Research Cen-

ter, 1984. Rozman, Gilbert. Population and Marketing Settlements in Ch’ing China. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982. Skinner, G. William. “Sichuan’s Population in the Nineteenth Century: Lessons from

Disaggregated Data,” Late Imperial China, 7 (1986), pp. 1-79. Smith, Paul J. “Commerce, Agriculture, and Core Formation in the Upper Yangzi, A.D.

2 to 1948,” Late Imperial China, 9 (1988), pp. 1-78. Song, Jian. China’s Population: Problems and Prospects. Beijing: New World Press, 1981. Stockard, Janice E. Daughters of the Canton Delta: Marriage Patterns and Economic

414 BIBLIOGRAPHY Strategies in South China, 1860-1930. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1989. Telford, Ted A. “Patching the Holes in Chinese Genealogies,” Late Imperial China, 11

(1990), pp. 116-34. Vogel, Ezra. One Step Ahead in China: Guangdong Under Reform. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1989. Wang, Duanyu, and Zhang Guangxian. “A Population Survey of the Yi Nationality in Meigu County, Sichuan Province,” Population Studies (Beijing), 1 (1984), pp. 34.37. Watson, Rubie S., and Patricia Buckley Ebrey, eds. Marriage and Inequality in Chinese Society. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981.

Weinstein, Maxine, Te-Hsiung Sun, Ming-Cheng Chang, and Ronald Freedman. “Household Composition, Extended Kinship, and Reproduction in Taiwan: 1965-1985,” Population Index, 55 (1989), p. 410. Wolf, Arthur P., and Chieh-shan Huang. Marriage and Adoption in China, 1845-1945. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1980. Zeng, Yi, Zhang Chunyuan, and Peng Songjian. “Changing Family Structure and Population Aging in China.” Paper presented at the 1988 Tokyo symposium of the International Union for the Scientific Study of Population.

XIX. JAPAN Atoh, Makoto. “Changes in Family Patterns in Japan.” Paper presented at the 1988 Tokyo symposium of International Union for the Scientific Study of Population. Bailey, Jackson. Ordinary People, Extraordinary Lives: A Study of Political and Economic Change in a Tohoku Village. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1991. Bernstein, Gail Lee, ed. Recreating Japanese Women, 1600-1945. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991. Cornell, L. L. “Hajnal and the Household in Asia: A Comparative History of the Family in Preindustrial Japan, 1600-1870,” Journal of Family History, 12 (1987),

pp. 143-62. Edwards, Walter. Modern Japan Through Its Weddings: Gender, Person, and Society in Ritual Portrayal. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1989. Eng, Robert Y., and Thomas C. Smith. “Peasant Families and Population Control in Eighteenth-Century Japan,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History, 6 (1975-76), pp. 417-45.

Farris, William Wayne. Population, Disease, and Land in Early Japan 645-900. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1985. Hammel, Eugene A. “A Glimpse into the Demography of the Ainu,” American Anthro-

pologist, 90 (1988), pp. 25-41. Hanada, Kyo, Tatsuya Itoh, and Shigemi Kono. “The Future of Japanese Families: A Micro Simulation Study.” Paper presented at the 1988 Tokyo symposium of International Union for the Scientific Study of Population. Hanley, Susan B. “Fertility, Mortality, and Life Expectancy in Pre-Modern Japan,” Population Studies, 28 (1974), pp. 127-42. Hanley, Susan B., and Kozo Yamamura. Economic and Demographic Change in

BIBLIOGRAPHY 415 Preindustrial Japan 1600-1868. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1977. Hayami, Akira. “Demographic Analysis of a Village in Tokugawa Japan,” Keio Economic Studies, 5 (1968), pp. 50-88. Hirosima, Kiyoshi. “Does Very Low Fertility Accelerate Nuclearization?” Paper presented at the 1988 Tokyo symposium of International Union for the Scientific

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Jannetta, Ann Bowman. Epidemics and Mortality in Early Modern Japan. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1987. Keizai Koho Center. Japan 1989: An International Comparison. Tokyo: Keizai Koho Center, 1988. Kojima, Hiroshi. “Determinants of Perinuptial Parent-Child Coresidence in Japan: An Analytical Framework.” Paper presented at the 1988 Tokyo symposium of International Union for the Scientific Study of Population. Koyami, Takashi. “Changing Family Composition and the Position of the Aged in the Japanese Family,” International Journal of Comparative Sociology, 5 (1964), pp. 155-61. Martin, Linda G., and Suzanne Cutter. “Mortality Decline and Japanese Family Structure,” Population and Development Review, 9 (1983), pp. 633-49. Mosk, Carl. “Fecundity, Infanticide, and Food Consumption in Japan,” Explorations in Economic History, 15 (1978), pp. 269-89. Mosk, Carl, and Sheila Ryan Johansson. “Income and Mortality: Evidence from Modern Japan,” Population and Development Review, 12 (1986), pp. 415-40. Mosk, Carl. Patriarchy and Fertility: Japan and Sweden, 1880-1960. New York: Academic Press, 1983. Smith, Robert J. “The Domestic Cycle in Selected Commoner Families in Urban Japan: 1757-1858,” Journal of Family History, 3 (1978), pp. 219-35. Tonomura, Hitomi. “Women and Inheritance in Japan’s Early Warrior Society,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 32 (1990), pp. 592-623. Watanabe, Yoshikazu. “Age Patterns of Reproductive Life Stages in Female Cohorts of the Japanese: 1900-1930,” Journal of Population Problems, #183 (1987), pp.

23-33. | XX. EAST ASIA AND KOREA

Cho, Lee-Jay. “The Demographic Situation in the Republic of Korea,” Population Index, 39 (1973), p. 339. Cho, Lee-Jay, Fred Arnold, and Tai Hwan Kwon. The Determinants of Fertility in the Republic of Korea. Washington, D.C.: National Academy Press, 1982. Cho, Lee-Jay, and Kazumasa Kobayashi, eds. Fertility Transition of the East Asian Populations. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1979. Hanley, Susan B., and Arthur P. Wolf, eds. Family and Population in East Asian History. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1985.

Kim, C. I. Eugene, and Changboh Chee, eds. Aspects of Social Change in Korea. Kalamazoo, Mich.: Korea Research and Publications, 1969. Kim, Myung-nye. “The Politics of the Family: Deconstruction and Reconstruction of

416 BIBLIOGRAPHY Korea’s Families.” Paper presented at the 1990 Chicago meeting of Association for Asian Studies. Pak, Ki-Hyuk, and Sidney D. Gamble. The Changing Korean Village. Seoul: ShinHung Press, 1975. Park, Chai Bin. “Preference for Sons, Family Size, and Sex Ratio: An Empirical Study in Korea,” Demography, 20 (1983), pp. 333-53. Repetto, Robert. “Fertility Decline in Korea and Its Relationship to Development Patterns,” Population Index, 44 (1978), p. 391. Ritter, Philip L. “Social Organization, Incest, and Fertility in a Korean Village,” American Ethnologist, 7 (1980), pp. 759-73.

XXI. AUSTRALIA, NEW GUINEA, NEW ZEALAND, AND OCEANIA Booth, Heather. Fertility and Mortality in Vanuatu: The Demographic Analysis of the 1979 Census. Noumea, New Caledonia: South Pacific Commission, 1985. Pacific Population Paper #1. Clegg, E. J. “Aspects of Fertility in Suva, Fiji,” Journal of Biosocial Science, 20 (1988),

pp. 295-311. Cowlishaw, Gillian. “The Determinants of Fertility Among Australian Aborigines,” Mankind, 13 (1981), pp. 37-54. Crews, Douglas E. “International Migration and Population Structure in American Samoa,” Population Index, 52 (1986), p. 419. Feeney, Griffith. “Nukuoro Birth Rates, Death Rates, and Expectations of Life,” Popu-

lation Index, 40 (1974), p. 422. Grimshaw, Patricia, Chris McConville, and Ellen McEwen, eds. Families in Colonial Australia. Sydney: George Allen and Unwin, 1985. Harbison, Sarah F., Thelma S. Baker, and Michael Levin. “Education and Fertility: Some Evidence from Samoa,” Population Index, 47 (1981), p. 464. Hayes, Geoffrey R. Migration, Population Change, and Socio-Economic Development in the Cook Islands. 1982 Ph.D. dissertation at the University of British Columbia, Vancouver. Hugo, Graeme. Australia’s Changing Population: Trends and Implications. Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1986. Jones, Elsie F. “Fertility Decline in Australia and New Zealand, 1861-1936,” Population Index, 37 (1971), pp. 301-37. Kane, Penny, and David Lucas. “An Overview of South Pacific Population Problems,” Asia-Pacific Population Journal, 1 (1986), pp. 3-16. Kelly, Raymond C. “Demographic Pressure and Descent Group Structure in the New Guinea Highlands,” Oceania, 39 (1968), pp. 36-63. Krupinski, Jerzy, and Alan Stoller, eds. The Family in Australia: Social, Psychological, and Demographic Aspects. 2d ed. Rushcutters Bay: Pergamon Australia, 1978. Pearce, Neil E., Peter B. Davis, Allan H. Smith, and Frank H. Foster. “Mortality and Social Class in New Zealand, III: Male Mortality by Ethnic Group,” New Zealand Medical Journal, 97 (1984), pp. 31-35. Pickens, K. A. “Marriage Patterns in a Nineteenth-Century British Colonial Population,” Journal of Family History, 5 (1980), pp. 180-96.

BIBLIOGRAPHY 417 Piddington, R., ed. Essays in Polynesian Ethnology. Cambridge: Cambridge University

Press, 1939. Pool, I. “Is New Zealand a Healthy Country?” New Zealand Population Review, 8

(1982), pp. 2-27. ,

Post, Ronald, Jeanne S. Newman, Janet Senf, and Esther Stotik. “Factors Affecting Desired Family Size Among Preliterate New Guinea Mothers,” [nternational Journal of Gynaecology and Obstetrics, 23 (1985), pp. 413-20. Rallu, Jean-Louis. “The Depopulation of the Pacific Archipelago: The Example of Four Villages on the Island of Malekula,” Population, 36 (1981), pp. 519-40. Sceats, Janet. “Ethnic Differences in Perinatal and Infant Mortality, 1962-79: A LifeTable Analysis,” New Zealand Population Review, 10 (1984), pp. 2-17. Schooneveldt, M., T. Songer, P. Zimmer, and K. Thomas. “Changing Mortality Patterns in Nauruans: An Example of Epidemiological Transition,” Journal of Epidemiology and Community Health, 42 (1988), pp. 89-95. Smith, Leonard Robert. The Aboriginal Population of Australia. Canberra: Australian National University Press, 1980. Spencer, Geraldine. “Pre-Marital Pregnancies and Ex-Nuptial Births in Australia, 1911-1966,” Australian and New Zealand Journal of Sociology, 5 (1969), pp. 121-27. Taylor, R., and K. Thomas. “Mortality Patterns in the Modernized Pacific Island of Nauru,” American Journal of Public Health, 75 (1985), pp. 149-55. Thomas, Nicholas. “Sanitation and Seeing: The Creation of State Power in Early Colonial Fiji,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 32 (1990), pp. 149-65. Wood, James William. Mechanisms of Demographic Equilibrium in a Small Human Population: The Gainj of Papua New Guinea. 1980 Ph.D. dissertation at University of Michigan, Ann Arbor.

XXII. INDIGENOUS PEOPLES OF THE AMERICAS Becker, Marshall Joseph. “Lenape Population at the Time of European Contact: Estimating Native Numbers in the Lower Delaware Valley.” Privately circulated draft article, 1987. Broudy, David W., and Philip A. May. “Demographic and Epidemiological Transition Among the Navajo Indians,” Social Biology, 30 (1983), pp. 1-16. Callegari Jacques, Sidia M., and Francisco M. Salzano. “Demography and Genetics of the Kraho and Gorotire Indians of Brazil,” Journal of Human Evolution, 8 (1979), pp. 513-22. Choiniere, Robert, and Norbert Robitaille. “Fertility Among the Inuit of New Quebec Since 1931: The Transition from Natural to Controlled Fertility,” Population,

43 (1988), pp. 427-50. Churcher, C. S., and W. A. Kenyon. “The Tabor Hill Ossuaries: A Study in Iroquois De-

mography,” Human Biology, 22 (1960), pp. 249-73. Collins, Jane L. “Fertility Determinants in a High Andes Community,” Population and

Development Review, 9 (1983), pp. 61-75, 197, 199. Cook, N. D. The People of the Colca Valley. Boulder, Colo.: Westview, 1982. Cook, Sherburne F. The Conflict Between the California Indian and White Civilization.

Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976a.

418 BIBLIOGRAPHY Cook, Sherburne F. The Population of the California Indians. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976b. de Meer, Kees. “Mortality in Children Among the Aymara Indians of Southern Peru,”

Social Science and Medicine, 26 (1988), pp. 253-58. Denevan, William M., ed. The Native Population of the Americas in 1492. Madison:

University of Wisconsin Press, 1976. , Gutierrez, Ramon A. When Jesus Came, the Corn Mothers Went Away: Marriage, Sexuality, and Power in New Mexico, 1500-1846. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford Univer-

sity Press, 1990. Jaffe, A. J. “Length of Life Among Prehistoric North Americans,” Population Index,

49 (1983), p. 383. Johansson, Sheila Ryan. “The Demographic History of the Native Peoples of North America: A Selective Bibliography,” Yearbook of Physical Anthropology, 25 (1982), pp. 133-52. Johansson, Sheila Ryan, and Samuel H. Preston. “Tribal Demography: The Hopi and Navaho Populations as Seen Through Manuscripts from the 1900 U.S. Census,” Social Science History, 3 (1978), pp. 1-33. Kaplan, Hillard, and Kim Hill. “Hunting Ability and Reproductive Success Among Male Ache Foragers: Preliminary Results,” Current Anthropology, 26 (1985), pp. 131-33, with followup comments in 27 (1986), pp. 47-50. Lallo, John W., and Jerome C. Rose. “Patterns of Stress, Disease and Mortality in Two Prehistoric Populations from North America,” Journal of Human Evolution, 8 (1979), pp. 323-35. Romaniuk, Anatole, and Victor Piche. “Natality Estimates for the Canadian Indians by Stable Population Models, 1900-1969,” Canadian Review of Sociology and Anthropology, 9 (1972), pp. 1-20. Roth, Eric Abella. “Sedentism and Chanaing Fertility Patterns in a Northern American Isolate,” Journal of Human Evolution, 10 (1981), pp. 413-25. Schrire, Carmel, and William Lee Steiger. “A Matter of Life and Death: An Investigation into the Practice of Female Infanticide in the Arctic,” Man, New Series, 9 (1974), pp. 161-84. Shoemaker, Nancy. “Marriage and Fertility in a Matrilineal Society: The Seneca Indians in Comparative Perspective.” Paper presented at the 1988 Chicago meeting of Social Science History Association. Storey, Rebecca. “An Estimate of Mortality in a Pre-Columbian Urban Population,” American Anthropologist, 87 (1985), pp. 519-35. Thornton, Russell. American Indian Holocaust and Survival: A Population History Since 1492. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1987. Vanlandingham, Mark, James Buehler, Carol Hoyne, and Lilo Strauss. “BirthweightSpecific Mortality for Native Americans Compared with Whites, Six States, 1980,” American Journal of Public Health, 78 (1988), pp. 499-503. Williams, Walter L. The Spirit and the Flesh: Sexual Diversity in American Indian Culture. Boston: Beacon, 1986.

Yesner, David R. “Resource Diversity and Population Stability Among HunterGatherers,” Western Canadian Journal of Anthropology, 7 (1977), pp. 18-59.

BIBLIOGRAPHY 419 XXIII. CANADA Bouchard, Gerard, and Isabelle de Pourbaix. “Family Structures and Geographic Mo-

bility at Lateriere, 1851-1935,” Journal of Family History, 2 (1977), pp. 350-69. Bouchard, Gerard, and Isabelle de Pourbaix. “Individual and Family Life Courses in the Saguenay Region, Quebec, 1842-1911,” Journal of Family History, 12 (1987), pp. 225-42. Bouvier, Leon. “The Spacing of Births Among French-Canadian Families: An Historical Approach,” Canadian Review of Sociology and Anthropology, 5 (1968), pp. 17-26. Legare, Jacques. “Highlights on Family Formation in Canada,” Population Index, 38

(1972), p. 276. Ramu, G. N. Introduction to Canadian Society: Sociological Analysis. Toronto: Macmillan Canada, 1976. Sorg, Marcella H., and Beatrice C. Craig. “Patterns of Infant Mortality in the Upper St. John Valley French Population: 1791-1838,” Human Biology, 55 (1983), pp. 100-13. Tupperman, L. “Ethnic Variations in Marriage and Fertility: Canada, 1871,” Canadian

Review of Sociology and Anthropology, 11 (1979), pp. 324-43. Wright, Robert E., and Paul S. Maxim. “Canadian Fertility Trends: A Further Test of the Easterlin Hypothesis,” Canadian Review of Sociology and Anthropology, 24

(1987), pp. 339-57.

XXIV. UNITED STATES TO 1900 Anderton, Douglas L., and Rebecca J. Emigh. “Fertility in Polygynous Marriages: Re-

productive Competition Versus the Male Demand for Progeny,” American Journal of Sociology, 94 (1989), pp. 832-55. Anderton, Douglas L., Noriko O. Tsuya, Lee L. Bean, and Geraldine P. Mineau. “Intergenerational Transmission of Relative Fertility and Life Course Patterns,”

Demography, 24 (1987), pp. 467-81. Bean, Lee L., and Geraldine P. Mineau. “The Polygyny-Fertility Hypothesis: A ReEvaluation,” Population Studies, 40 (1986), pp. 67-81. Bean, Lee L., Geraldine P. Mineau, and Douglas L. Anderton. “Keproductive Behavior and Child Survival Among Nineteenth Century Mormons.” Paper presented at the 1988 Chicago meeting of Social Science History Association. Bean, Lee L., Geraldine P. Mineau, Douglas L. Anderton, and Yung-chang Hsueh. “The Fertility Effects of Marriage Patterns in a Frontier American Population,” Historical Methods, 20 (1987), pp. 161-71. Bleser, Carol, ed. In Joy and in Sorrow: Women, Family, and Marriage in the Victorian South. New York: Oxford University Press, 1990. Blumin, Stuart M. “Rip Van Winkle’s Grandchildren: Family and Household in the Hudson Valley, 1800-1860,” Journal of Urban History, 1 (1975), pp. 293-315. Bradshaw, Benjamin S., and Frank D. Bean. “The Composition of a NineteenthCentury Mexican-American Population,” Population Index, 36 (1970), pp. 289-90.

420 BIBLIOGRAPHY Censer, Jane Turner. North Carolina Planters and Their Children, 1800-1860. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1990.

Chudakoff, Howard P. Family and Population in Nineteenth-Century America. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1978. Coontz, Stephanie. The Social Origins of Private Life: A History of American Families,

1600-1900. New York: Verso, 1988. Fliess, Kenneth H. Fertility, Nuptiality. and Family Limitation Among the Wends of Serbin, Texas, 1854 to 1920. Austin: University of Texas Population Research Center, 1987. Fogelman, Aaron. “The Peopling of Early America: Two Studies by Bernard Bailyn: A Review Article,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 31 (1989), pp. 605-14. Hammel, Eugene A., Sheila Ryan Johansson, and C. A. Ginsburg. “The Value of Children During Industrialization: Sex Ratios in Childhood in Nineteenth-Century

America,” Journal of Family History, 8 (1983), pp. 346-66.

Hareven, Tamara K., and Maris A. Vinovskis, eds. Family and Population in Nineteenth-Century America. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1978. Higgs, Robert, and David Booth. “Mortality Differentials Within and Among Large American Cities in 1890: A Statistical Study,” Population Index, 44 (1978),

p. 405. Hoffert, Sylvia. Private Matters: American Attitudes Toward Childbearing and Infant Nurture in the Urban North, 1800-1860. Urbana: University of Illinois Press,

1989. |

La Sorte, Michael A. “Urbanization and Fertility: New York State in the Early Nineteenth Century,” Population Index, 40 (1974), p. 417. Leet, Don R. “The Fertility Transition in Ante-Bellum Ohio: 1800-1860,” Population

Index, 40 (1974), p. 416. Lewis, Frank D. “Fertility and Savings in the United States: 1830-1900,” Journal of Po-

litical Economy, 91 (1983), pp. 825-40. Preston, Samuel H., and Michael R. Haines. Fatal Years: Child Mortality in Late Nineteenth-Century America. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1990. Ransom, Roger L., and Richard Sutch. Did Rising Out-Migration Cause Fertility to Decline in Antebellum New England? Pasadena: California Institute of Technology

Social Science Working Paper #610, 1986. Ruggles, Steven, and Miriam L. King. Immigration and Fertility in 1900: A ReAssessment. Madison: University of Wisconsin Center for Demography and Ecology, 1985. Ryan, Mary P. Cradle of the Middle Class: The Family in Oneida County, New York, 1790-1865. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981. Schapiro, M. O. “Land Availability and Fertility in the United States, 1760-1870,”

Journal of Economic History, 42 (1982), pp. 577-600. Smith, Daniel Scott. “‘All in Some Degree Related to Each Other’: A Demographic and Comparative Resolution of the Anomaly of New England Kinship,” American Historical Review, 94 (1989), pp. 44-77.

BIBLIOGRAPHY 421 Smith, Daniel Scott. “Life Course, Norms, and the Family System of Older Americans

in 1900,” Journal of Family History, 4 (1979), pp. 285-98. Vinovskis, Maris A. Fertility in Massachusetts from the Revolution to the Civil War. New York: Academic Press, 1981. Walsh, Andrew S., and Robert V. Wells. “Population Dynamics in the EighteenthCentury Mississippi River Valley: Acadians in Louisiana,” Journal of Social His-

tory, 11 (1978), pp. 521-45.

XXV. UNITED STATES GENERAL Beck, Scott H., and Rubye W. Beck. “The Formation of Extended Households During

Middle Age,” Journal of Marriage and the Family, 46 (1984), pp. 277-87. Caplan, Lincoln. An Open Adoption. New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giraux, 1990. Carlson, Elwood. “Divorce Rate Fluctuation as a Cohort Phenomenon,” Population

Studies, 33 (1979), pp. 523-36. Carter, Hugh, and Paul C. Glick. Marriage and Divorce: A Social and Economic Study. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1970; rev. ed., Cambridge, Mass:.:

Harvard University Press, 1976. Engle, P. L., S. C. Scrimshaw, and R. Smidt. “Sex Differences in Attitudes Towards Newborn Infants Among Women of Mexican Origins,” Medical Anthropology, 8 (1984), pp. 133-44. Espenshade, Thomas J. “Markov Chain Models of Marital Event Histories,” Current Perspectives on Aging and the Life Cycle, 2 (1986), pp. 73-106. Essock-Vitale, Susan M. “The Reproductive Success of Wealthy Americans,” Ethology and Sociobiology, 5 (1984), pp. 45-49. Frisbie, W. Parker, Frank D. Bean, Robert Kaufman, and Jan Mutchler. Nativity and Household-Family Structure Among the Mexican Origin Population of the United States. Austin: University of Texas Population Research Center, 1984. Glenn, Norval D., and Kathryn B. Kramer. The Marriages and Divorces of the Children

of Divorce. Austin: University of Texas Population Research Center, 1987. Goldman, Noreen, Charles F. Westoff, and Charles Hammerslough. “Demography of the Marriage Market in the United States,” Population Index, 50 (1984), pp. 5-25. Gordon, Michael, ed. The American Family in Social-Historical Perspective. 2d ed. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1978. Howard, Alan. “Role Programming for Large Family Size: The Case of HawaiianAmericans,” Population Index, 40 (1974), p. 423. Johnson, Nan E., and Ryoko Nishida. “Minority-Group Status and Fertility: A Study of Japanese and Chinese in Hawaii and California,” Population Index, 46 (1980), pp. 419-20. Lee, Eun Sul, and Robert E. Roberts. “Ethnicity, Poverty, and Fertility in the South-

west,” Population Index, 41 (1975), p. 381. ,

Levin, Jeffrey S., and Kyriakos Markides. “Socioeconomic Status and Infant Mortality

Among Hispanics in a Southwestern City,” Social Biology, 32 (1985), pp. 61-64. Metropolitan Life Insurance Company. “Increased Chances of a Golden Wedding Anniversary,” Statistical Bulletin 67 (1986), pp. 2-6.

422 BIBLIOGRAPHY Mindel, Charles H., and Robert W. Habenstein, eds. Ethnic Families in America: Patterns and Variations. New York: Elsevier, 1976. Mintz, Steven, and Susan Kellogg. Domestic Revolutions: A Social History of American Family Life. New York: Free Press, 1988. Modell, John. “Normative Aspects of American Marriage Timing Since World War II,”

Journal of Family History, 5 (1980), pp. 210-34. Moffitt, Robert A. “Postwar Fertility Cycles and the Easterlin Hypothesis: A Life-Cycle

Approach,” Research in Population Economics, 4 (1982), pp. 237-52. Morgan, S. Philip, Diane N. Lye, and Gretchen A. Condra. “Sons, Daughters, and the Risk of Marital Disruption,” American Journal of Sociology, 94 (1988), pp. 110-29. Nye, F. Ivan, and Felix M. Berardo. The Family: Its Structure and Interaction. New York: Macmillan, 1973. Ogburn, William F., and Meyer Nimhoff. Technology and the Changing Family. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1955. Prehn, John W. “The County Atlas and Rural Farm Directory as a Source of Demo-

graphic Information,” Population Index, 34 (1968), pp. 276-77. Preston, Samuel H. “The Incidence of Divorce Within Cohorts of American Marriages Contracted Since the Civil War,” Population Index, 43 (1977), pp. 435-36.

Reiss, Ira L. Family Systems in America. 3d ed. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1980.

Rindfuss, Ronald R. “Changing Patterns of Fertility in the South: A SocialDemographic Examination,” Social Forces, 57 (1978), pp. 623-35. Seward, Rudy Ray. The American Family: A Demographic History. Beverly Hills, Calif.: Sage, 1978. Smith, James E., and Barbara Laslett, eds. Marriage and Family. 1979. Special issue of Sociology and Social Research. Spickard, Paul R. Mixed Blood: Intermarriage and Ethnic Identity in TwentiethCentury America. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1989. Uhlenberg, Peter. “Death and the Family,” Journal of Family History, 5 (1980), pp. 313-20. Vaupel, James W., and Dianne G. Goodwin. “The Concentration of Reproduction Among U.S. Women, 1917-1980,” Population and Development Review, 13 (1987), pp. 723-30. Vinovskis, Maris A. “Recent Trends in American Historical Demography: Some Meth-

odological and Conceptual Considerations,” Annual Review of Sociology, 4 (1978), pp. 603-27. Vinovskis, Maris A., ed. Studies in American Historical Demography. New York: Aca-

demic Press, 1979. White, Lynn K., and Alan Booth. “The Quality and Stability of Remarriages: The Role of Stepchildren,” American Sociological Review, 50 (1985), pp. 689-98. Wilson, Barbara Foley. “Marital Instability and Age Differences Between U.S. Spouses,” Population Index, 48 (1982), p. 500. Winch, Robert, and Robert McGinnis, eds. Selected Studies in Marriage and the Family. New York: Holt, 1953. Zimmer, B. G. “The Impact of Social Mobility on Fertility: A Reconsideration,” Popula-

tion Studies, 35 (1981), pp. 120-31.

BIBLIOGRAPHY 423 XXVI. AFRICAN-AMERICANS Campbell, John. “Work, Pregnancy, and Infant Mortality Among Southern Slaves,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History, 14 (1984), pp. 793-812. Cody, Cheryll Ann. “A Note on Changing Patterns of Slave Fertility in the South Carolina Rice District, 1735-1865,” Southern Studies, 1977, pp. 457-63. Eblen, Jack E. “Growth of the Black Population in Antebellum America, 1820-1860,” Population Index, 37 (1971), pp. 180-81. Engerman, Stanley L. “Black Fertility and Family Structure in the United States, 18801940,” Journal of Family History, 2 (1977), pp. 117-38. Farley, Reynolds, and Walter R. Allen. The Color Line and the Quality of Life in Amer-

ica. New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1987. Farley, Reynolds, and Suzanne M. Bianchi. The Growing Racial Differences in Marriage and Family Patterns. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Population Studies Center, 1987. Research Report #87-107. Geronimus, Arlene. “On Teenage Childbearing and Neonatal Mortality in the United States,” Population and Development Review, 13 (1987), pp. 245-79. Gutman, Herbert G. The Black Family in Slavery and Freedom, 1750-1925. New York: Pantheon, 1976. Hogue, Carol J. R. “Racial Differences in Infant Mortality Probably Aren’t Genetic.” Paper presented at the October 1988 University of Michigan Conference on Convergent Questions in Genetics and Demography. Kiple, Kenneth F., and Virginia H. Kiple. “Slave Child Mortality: Some Nutritional An-

swers to a Perennial Puzzle,” Journal of Social History, 10 (1977), pp. 284-309. Kulikoff, Allan. “A ‘Prolifick’ People: Black Population Growth in the Chesapeake Colonies, 1700-1790,” Southern Studies, 1977, pp. 391-428.

Lemann, Nicholas. The Promised Land: The Great Black Migration and How It Changed America. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991. McBride, Kim A. “Household Composition in Two Postbellum Mississippi Communities, 1910.” Paper presented at the 1988 Chicago meeting of Social Science History Association. Neckerman, Kathryn M. “Black Illegitimacy and Social Context: Are Black Sharecroppers Like French Peasants?” Paper presented at the 1988 Chicago meeting of

Social Science History Association. |

Steckel, Richard H. “The Fertility of American Slaves,” Research in Economic History,

7 (1982), pp. 239-86.

XXVIII. LATIN AMERICA Archetti, Eduardo. “Rural Families and Demographic Behavior: Some Latin American

Analogies,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 26 (1984), pp. 251-79. Bethell, Leslie, ed. Cambridge History of Latin America, Vol. 2. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984. Browning, Harley L. “Urbanization in Mexico,” Population Index, 30 (1964), pp. 299-300.

424 BIBLIOGRAPHY Cancian, Francesca M., Louis Wolf Goodman, and Peter H. Smith, eds. The Family in Latin America. 1978. Special issue of Journal of Family History. Carmack, Robert M., John Early, and Christopher Luiz, eds. The Historical Demogra-

phy of Highland Guatemala. Albany, N.Y.: SUNY-Albany Institute for Mesoamerican Studies, 1982. Chance, John E., and William B. Taylor. “Estate and Class in a Colonial City: Oaxaca in 1792,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 19 (1977), pp. 454-87. Dandler, Jorge, and Jorge Balan. “Marriage Process and Household Formation in Bolivia and Argentina: The Impact of Migration in a Peasant Society,” Fertility De-

terminants Research Notes, 21 (1988), pp. 10-12. Davidson, William V., and James J. Parsons, eds. Historical Demography of Latin America. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University School of Geoscience, 1980. Foster, George M. “Cofradia and Compadrazgo in Spain and Spanish America,” Southwestern Journal of Anthropology, 9 (1953), pp. 1-28. Garcia-Espana, Felipe. “Marriage Patterns in Latin America, 1950-1975,” Population Index, 52 (1986), p. 418. Goldman, Noreen. “Dissolutions of First Unions in Colombia, Panama, and Peru,” Demography, 18 (1981), pp. 659-79. Houdaille, Jacques. “A Note on Certain Parishes in Guatemala in 1813,” Annales de Demographie Historique, 1986, pp. 41-46. Hout, Michael. “The Role of Household Production and Commodity Trade in Latin American Fertility: 1900-1975,” Population Index, 46 (1980), p. 386. Lam, David. “Demographic Aspects of Brazilian Development.” November 7, 1988, presentation at Population Studies Center, University of Michigan. Malvido, Elsa. “Abandonment of Children: A Form of Control of Family Size and Native Labor: Tula, 1683-1730,” Historia Mexicana, 29 (1980), pp. 521-61. Morris, Earl W. “Culture, Migration, and Fertility in Peru,” Population Index, 52 (1986), p. 344. Moser, Kath. Levels and Trends in Child and Adult Mortality in Peru. Voorburg, Neth-

erlands: International Statistical Institute, 1985. Neri, Rolando, and Ramon Alvarez Gutierrez. “Causes of the Fall in the Birth Rate in Latin America,” Salud Publica de Mexico, 19 (1977), pp. 175-82. Palloni, Albert. “Current Conditions of Mortality in Latin America with Emphasis on

Infancy and Early Childhood,” Population Index, 47 (1981), p. 427. Pebley, Anne R., and Paul W. Stupp. “Reproductive Patterns and Child Mortality in Guatemala,” Demography, 24 (1987), pp. 43-59. Sanchez-Albornoz, Nicolas. The Population of Latin America: A History. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974. Stolcke, Verena. Coffee Planters, Workers and Wives: Class Conflict and Gender Relations on Sao Paolo Plantations. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1988. Wong, Laura Rodriguez. “Kecent Trends in Fertility in the State of Sao Paolo,” Revisa Brasileira de Estudios de Populacao, 2 (1985), pp. 75-103. Wood, Charles H. “The Political Economy of Infant Mortality in Sao Paolo,” International Journal of Health Services, 12 (1982), pp. 215-29.

BIBLIOGRAPHY 425 XXVIII. CARIBBEAN Craton, Michael. “Changing Patterns of Slave Families in the British West Indies,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History, 10 (1979), pp. 1-35. Fry, P. A. Changing Patterns of Marriage and Reproduction in a Depopulating Caribbean Society. 1981 Ph.D. dissertation at Pennsylvania State University, State College. Higman, Barry W. “African and Creole Slave Family Patterns in Trinidad,” Journal of

Family History, 3 (1978), pp. 163-80. Higman, Barry W. “The Demography of Slavery in the British Caribbean,” Population

Index, 43 (1977), pp. 437-38. Hollerback, Paula E., and Sergio Diaz-Briquets. Fertility Determinants in Cuba. Washington, D.C.: National Academy Press, 1983.

Lamur, Humphrey. “Demographic Performance of Two Slave Populations of the Dutch Speaking Caribbean,” Boletin de Estudios Latinoamericanos y del Caribe, 30 (1981), pp. 87-102. Lamur, Humphrey. The Production of Sugar and the Reproduction of Slaves at Vossenburg, Suriname, 1705-1863. Amsterdam: Amsterdam Centre for Carib-

bean Studies, 1987.

XXIX. AFRICA Antoine, Philippe. “Mortality and Fertility Trends in the Ivory Coast,” Espace, Popula-

tions, Societes, 3 (1985), pp. 567-80. In French. Bledsoe, Caroline H. “Side-Stepping the Postpartum Sex Taboo: Mende Cultural Per-

ceptions of Tinned Milk in Sierra Leone,” Fertility Determinants Research Notes, 23 (1988), pp. 7-9. Bongaarts, John, Odile Frank, and Ron Lesthaeghe. “The Proximate Determinants of Fertility in Sub-Saharan Africa,” Population and Development Review, 10 (1984), pp. 511-37. Bradley, A. K.,S.B.J. MacFarlane, J.B. Moody, H. M. Gilles, J.G.C. Blacker, and B. D. Musa. “Malumfashi Endemic Disease Research Project, XX: Demographic Findings: Mortality,” Annals of Tropical Medicine and Parasitology, 76 (1982), pp. 393-404. Brainerd, Jean. “Differential Mortality in Turkana Agriculturalists and Pastoralists,” American Journal of Physical Anthropology, 70 (1986), pp. 525-36. Brainerd, Jean. Herders to Farmers: The Effects of Settlement on the Demography of the Turkana People of Kenya. 1981 Ph.D. dissertation at State University of

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Brass, William, Ansley J. Coale, Paul Demeny, Don F. Heisel, Frank Lorimer, Anatole Romaniuk, and Etienne van de Walle. The Demography of Tropical Africa. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1968. Caldwell, John C. The Socio-Economic Explanation of High Fertility: Papers on the Yoruba Society of Nigeria. Canberra: Australian National University Press, 1976. Caldwell, John C., ed. Population Growth and Socioeconomic Change in West Africa. New York: Columbia University Press, 1975.

426 BIBLIOGRAPHY Cantrelle, Pierre, ed. Population in African Development. 2 vols. Liege: Ordina Editions, 1975. Cordell, Dennis D., and Joel W. Gregory, eds. African Population and Capitalism. Boulder, Colo.: Westview, 1987. David, N., and D. Voas. “Societal Causes of Infertility and Population Decline Among the Settled Fulani of North Cameroon,” Man, 16 (1981), pp. 644-64. Dorjahn, Vernon B. “Rural-Urban Differences in Infant and Child Mortality Among the

Temne of Kolifa,” Journal of Anthropological Research, 32 (1976), pp. 74-103. Edinburgh, University of. African Historical Demography, Vol. 1. Edinburgh: University of Edinburgh Centre of African Studies, 1977. Edinburgh, University of. African Historical Demography, Vol. 2. Edinburgh: University of Edinburgh Centre of African Studies, 1981. Ekeh, Peter P. “Social Anthropology and Two Contrasting Uses of Tribalism in Africa,”

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Index Note: To facilitate using this index to make comparisons, each place name is located within a larger unit, and each ethnic group’s name is located within a country or region. To avoid extremely long index entries under headings such as “mortality, infant,” regions rather than individual countries are listed.

Aberdeen (Scotland), 151 Addis Ababa (Ethiopia), 287

Abidjan (Ivory Coast), 279 adolescence or adolescent(s), 19, 87, 119, Aborigine(s) (indigenous Australians), 169, 174, 373, 374 29-31, 36, 49, 51, 95, 225-230 adoption, 8, 83, 378, 379, 381; in China,

abortion, involuntary. See miscarriage(s) 304, 305, 312, 327; in Japan, 115, 339,

abortion, legal, 165, 372 361, 362, 364, 367, 369, 372; in Rome, 77

abortion, spontaneous. See miscarriage(s) adult(s) or adulthood, 104, 113, 121, 175,

abortion, voluntary, 13, 17, 18, 33, 78, 176, 187, 248, 356, 381; aged, 35, 137,

158, 183, 308, 386, 387 144, 374; early to mid, 25, 374; mid or

abstinence (from intercourse), 19, 20, 83, middle or midlife, 35, 91, 374; young,

93, 109; in Africa, central, 283; in 35, 199

Africa, eastern, 283, 285, 287, 288; in affinal or affine(s), 36-38

Africa, south of the Sahara, 56, Afghanistan (Asia, South), 31, 47, 48, 67, 120-122, 193, 239-241, 251; in Africa, 72, 94, 102, 270, 296, 299, 315, 330

southern, 290; in Africa, western, 18, 23, Africa or African, 12, 17, 25, 27, 41, 55,

244, 270, 275, 277, 279, 281, 285, 337; 63, 69, 105, 131, 133-135, 147, 156, in Americas, 54, 182, 183, 193; in Asia, 173, 192, 195, 200, 209, 229, 233-252, South, 101, 102, 324, 325, 333, 334; in 296, 305, 339, 375, 383; central, 31, Asia, Southeast, 49, 117, 118, 120, 334, 36, 57, 242, 244, 247, 249, 268-270, 337, 340, 343, 344, 346, 347, 349, 350; 283-285 (see also Burundi; Central permanent or terminal, 101, 281, 324. African Republic; Chad; Congo

See also grandmother effect (Brazzaville); Gabon; Rwanda; Sudan; abuse, physical, 144, 177, 215 Zaire); central sterility belt, 242, 250, Acadian(s) (Americans, North), 221 269, 272, 275, 283, 284, 286, 294: accident(s), 9-11, 33, 44, 85, 169, 187, eastern, 57, 127, 233, 235, 239,

208, 230, 231 241-244, 269, 285-289, 292 (see also

Accra (Ghana), 279 Ethiopia; Kenya; Somalia; Tanzania;

Ache (Americans, South), 28 Uganda; Zanzibar); North, 81, 93-96,

acquired immunodeficiency syndrome 123, 124, 131, 232-234, 236-238, 241, (AIDS), 6, 9, 284, 285, 294, 380, 387 243-248, 250-253, 305 (see also

430 INDEX Algeria; Egypt; Libya; Morocco; Tunisia); 83, 377; commercial, 190, 286, 291,

South (see South Africa or African); 355; extensive, 19; hoe, 20, 42-44, 51, south of the Sahara, 57, 58, 66, 103, 52, 55, 128: in Africa, North, 48; in 120-124, 128, 232—252, 259, 268-294. Africa, south of the Sahara, 55, 57, 58, southern, 28, 57, 233, 242-245, 269, 123; in Africa, western, 55; in Americas, 289-294 (see also Angola; Botswana; 53, 124-128, 183; in America, Central, Lesotho; Malawi; Mozambique; Namibia; 53, 124, 125; in America, North, 53, 54,

South Africa; Swaziland; Zambia; 124-126, 197-200, 218; in America,

Zimbabwe); sub-Saharan (see Africa, South, 53, 124, 125; in Asia, East, 52, south of the Sahara); tropical, 5, 6, 16, 53, 107, 113, 115, 321; in Asia, South, 55, 56, 90, 95, 348 (see also Africa or 48, 49, 101, 321, 333; in Asia, African, central; Africa or African, Southeast, 49, 117; in Asia, Southwest, eastern; Africa or African, western); 41-48; in Europe, Mediterranean, 48, western, 13, 18, 20, 23, 31, 54, 56, 132; in Europe, non-Mediterranean, 48, 121, 216, 233, 235-238, 241, 243, 252, 81, 132; in Oceania, 50, 51; intensive,

268-282, 285, 288, 289, 291, 292, 19, 86; irrigated, 19-21, 43, 45, 48, 49, 300 (see also Benin; Burkina Faso; 52, 53, 105, 113, 327; mechanized, Cameroon; Dahomey; Equatorial Guinea; 218-220, 276, 306; plow, 43, 45, 48,

Gambia; Ghana; Gold Coast; Guinea; 49, 51-53, 55, 101, 105, 123, 199, 291, Guinea-Bissau; Ivory Coast; Liberia; Mali; 306; rain-fed, 43, 48, 49, 81, 82, 84,

Mauritania; Niger; Nigeria; Sahara, 120. See also animal(s); canal(s); cultiwestern; Senegal; Sierra Leone; Togo) vation; digging stick; dike(s); fertiliAfrican(s}), 23, 57, 58, 122, 124, 131, 134, zer(s); garden-islands; hoe; irrigation; 173, 182-188, 193, 194, 196, 203, 209, livestock; plow; swidden 224, 231, 233-251, 268-295, 303, 340, Aguacatan (Guatemala), 195 346, 381; central, 268-270, 283-285: AIDS. See acquired immunodeficiency

eastern, 124, 235, 269, 291; North, 5, syndrome (AIDS) 260-268; South (see South African(s)); Ainu (Asians, East), 362, 363 southern, 269, 291: tropical, 5; western, air supply, 132, 376

20, 71, 124, 235, 237, 268-282, 291, airplanes, 151

324, 337 Akan (Africans, western), 13, 280, 284

African-American(s) (United States), 12, al-Ghazzali (Islamic teacher), 257, 272 292, 293, 295, 206, 208, 210, 212, 213, Alabama (U.S.), 216

215~220, 275, 278, 294, 361, 386 Aland islands (Sweden), 150 Afrikaner(s), 291-293. See also South Alaska (U.S.), 53, 54, 108, 201, 230

African(s) Albania (Europe, eastern), 133, 166, 256

aged. See adult(s) or adulthood, aged Albigensian(s) (movement in Christianity), age gap or difference, spousal, 18, 29, 46, 88, 101 47, 50, 117, 196, 214: in Africa, central, albinism or albino(s), 23 283, 284; in Africa, North, 71, 237; in alcoholic(s), 200 Africa, south of the Sahara, 239; in Alegro (Argentina), 187, 188 Africa, western, 18, 270, 272, 274, Aleut(s) (Americans, North), 54, 201, 225 276-278, 280, 368; in Asia, East, 303, Aleutian islands (Alaska), 54 304, 358, 359, 368; in Asia, South, Alexander the Great, 75, 76, 93 301-303, 358; in Asia, Southwest, 71, Alexandria (Egypt), 76, 262 72, 237, 254, 258-260, 262, 263, Algeria (Africa, North), 241, 247, 260-262 265-268; in Europe, Mediterranean, 71, Allman, James, 261-268 73-76; in Europe, non-Mediterranean, 82 = almsgiving, 383. See also system, social

age-grade(s), 239, 245 welfare, religious institutional

age-set(s). See age-grade(s) Alps mountains (Europe), 48, 71, 80, 82,

Agnone (Italy), 159 84, 90, 134, 163, 377

agricultural day laborer(s) or wage Alsonyek (Hungary), 164 worker(s). See wage worker(s), agricultural Alzheimer’s disease, 11

agriculturalist(s), 4, 31, 33, 34, 39-59, Amazon River or basin or valley (America, 106, 120-123, 126-128, 180, 224, 236, South), 179, 183 271, 275, 288, 289, 319, 302. See also Amazonian(s) (Americans, South), 36

cultivator(s) ambilineal or ambilineality, 38, 46, 49, 51,

agriculture, 20, 34, 35, 38-45, 58, 59, 69, 69, 82, 152

INDEX 431 amebic dysentery. See dysentery, amebic — 53. See also animal(s), grazing; livestock;

amenorrhea, 13, 19, 269, 324, 340. See pigs

also anovulation or anovulatory cycle(s); animal(s), grazing, 39, 40, 52, 69. See also

fertile cycle(s); menstruation camel(s); cattle; donkey(s); goat(s);

America or Americas or American, 6, 9, horse(s); ox(en); sheep 12, 23, 25, 27, 33, 41, 53, 63, 105, animal(s), herd, 39, 49, 50, 226. See also 107, 124-128, 131, 134-136, 153-155, animal(s), grazing 172, 179-224, 233~235, 245, 246, animal(s), milk, 39, 40, 56, 286. See also

251-253, 375; Caribbean, 179, 180, cattle; cow(s); dairy products; goat(s)

185, 186, 189, 190, 194, 195, 218 (see animal(s), wild, 11, 115, 226. See also buffalo also Caribbean islands); Central, 53, 66, animal(s), work, 45, 53, 56, 67, 69, 84, 108, 126, 128, 179, 180, 182, 195 (see 101, 106, 333, 355. See also camel(s); also Costa Rica; Guatemala; Honduras; cattle; donkey(s); horse(s); ox(en) Panama); Latin, 24, 64, 95, 182-196, Ankara (Turkey), 255

218, 223, 224, 229, 296 (see also annulment, 91. See also divorce;

countries listed under America, Central; separation, marital, permanent America, South; Caribbean islands; anovulation or anovulatory cycle(s), 13, 28, Mexico); North, 5, 17, 33, 108, 126, 41, 74. See also amenorrhea; fertile 128, 153, 154, 174, 196-224, 226, 256, cycle(s); menstruation 339, 374, 375, 377, 381, 384, 386 (see anthrax, 88 also Canada; Greenland; Mexico; United antibiotic(s), 10 States); South, 40, 47, 53, 66, 78, 108, antibody or antibodies. See immunity 124, 127, 128, 179, 180, 183-195 (see reaction; immunoglobin(s) also Argentina; Brazil; Chile; Colombia; antiepidemic measures, 65, 136 Ecuador; French Guinea; Guyana; apartheid. See South Africa, segregation Paraguay; Peru; Surinam; Uruguay; Aquinas, Thomas (western Christian

Venezuela); tropical, 6 teacher), 88

American(s) (people in the Americas), Arab(s) (in Southwest Asia and North

107; indigenous, ix, 12, 54, 72, 127, Africa), 23, 56, 57, 67, 94, 121-123, 179-191, 194-203, 208, 218, 223-226, 125, 233-236, 241-248, 250, 252, 253, 231, 233 (see also Indian(s), North 257, 259-268, 273, 286

American); Latin, 5, 131, 182-196, 212; Arabian peninsula, 240, 252, 263, 266

North, 127, 212, 380, 381 arctic, 44, 200. See also climate, arctic

American Indian(s). See American(s), Argentina (America, South), 179, 187, indigenous; Indian(s), North American 190-193, 195, 385

Amhara (Africans, eastern), 286 Aries, Philippe, 175

Amin, Idi (Oganda), 288 aristocracy or aristocrat(s), 13, 145, 331, Amman (Jordan), 264, 265 332, 346, 358. See also lord(s); nobility

amniocentesis, 308 or noble(s)

Amsterdam (Netherlands), 63, 147, 375 Arizona (U.S.), 126, 197 Anatolia (Asia, Southwest), 41, 68-73, 81, Armenia (Asia, central), 168 87, 93, 99, 168, 246, 252-255. See also Armenian(s) (Asians, Southwest), 253

Black Sea region; Turkey army or armies, 43. See also order,

Andes mountains (America, South), 47, maintenance of; warfare

124, 125 artificial insemination. See insemination,

Andhra (India), 312, 318, 325 artificial

Andover (Massachusetts), 204 artisan(s), 43, 65, 91, 140, 159, 161, 183,

anemia, 56, 85, 216 195, 210, 361-363

anencephaly, 15, 170 Aruba (Caribbean), 385

Angel, J. Lawrence, 75, 99 ascetic(s) or asceticism, 324. See also

angelito(s), 191 abstinence; celibacy Anglo(s) (in U.S.), 202, 203 Ashio (Japan), 338

Anglo-Saxon(s) (Europeans, western), 12 Asia or Asian, 12, 21, 27, 69, 89, 108,

Angola (Africa, southern), 55, 235, 113, 116, 133, 135, 156, 173, 192, 195,

242-244, 249, 250, 290, 291 200, 222, 233, 256, 344, 375, 383; Anhausen (Germany), 160, 161 central, 67, 81, 106, 167, 168, 238,

Anhui (China), 310 245, 246, 252 (see also Armenia; animal(s), domesticated, 39-41, 47, 49, 50, Azerbaijan; Kazakhstan; Kirgiz;

432 INDEX Mongol(s); Turkmen); East, 52, 119, Bahrain (Asia, Southwest), 260-262, 264 247, 335-339, 341, 356, 358-374 (see Bakongo (Africans, central), 243, 281, 284 also China; Hong Kong; Japan; Korea); Bali (Indonesia), 99, 118, 120, 345-347,

South, 5, 6, 17, 63, 131, 295-303, 351, 352

305-309, 312-327, 330-338 (see also Balinese (Indonesians), 102, 351 Afghanistan; Bangladesh; Bhutan; India; Balkan(s) (Europe, eastern), 89, 252 Nepal; Pakistan; Sri Lanka}; Southeast, Baltic (Europe, eastern), 85, 134, 159,

49-52, 54, 63, 66, 69, 82, 101, 105, 164-166, 168, 377

108, 109, 117-120, 128, 213, 234, 314, Bambara (Africans, western), 271, 272

323, 335-359, 363, 375 (see also bamboo, 333

Burma/Myanmar; Indonesia; Kampuchea; Bamileke (Africans, western), 280, 282

Laos; Malaysia; Philippines; Singapore; bands, forager, 27-31, 35, 39, 40, 44-46, Thailand; Vietnam); Southwest, 67, 81, 227, 239, 319; locally functioning

93-96, 105, 106, 119, 120, 124, 128, groups, 29-31, 34-39

131, 134, 200, 232-238, 241, 243-248, Bangalore (India), 324, 325 250-268, 280, 296, 297, 302, 305, 346, Bangkok (Thailand), 340, 341, 357 375 (see also Anatolia; Bahrain; Iran; Bangladesh (Asia, South), 43, 78, 131,

Iraq; Israel; Jordan; Kuwait; Lebanon; 296, 299-301, 303, 305-308, 312-315, Mediterranean realm; Mesopotamia; 318, 322, 324-327, 385 Oman; Palestine; Qatar; Saudi Arabia; Bania or Baniya (India, caste group), 323,

Syria; Turkey; United Arab Emirates; 326 Yemen; Yemen, Democratic) Bantu (Africans), 36, 55-57

Asian(s), 5, 51, 131, 134, 173, 213, 224, Banyankole (Africans, eastern), 289 228, 293, 346; central, 167, 168, 330; baptismal registers. See registers, baptismal East, 336-339, 356, 358-374; South, 5, baptismal sponsor(s). See godparenthood

288, 289, 333, 358; Southeast, 23, Barbados (Caribbean), 176, 194, 206, 207,

49-52, 117-121, 334, 336-358. 385

Southwest, 125 Barclay, George, 107, 320

Asian-American(s) (United States), 208, 213 barley, 39, 50

Assam (India), 297, 307 Barma (Africans, central), 284

Assyria (Asia, Southwest), 71 barrenness, 111. See also childlessness;

Aswan Dam (Egypt), 241 sterility

Athens (Greece), 72-74, 76 basic care or basic needs. See care, basic

Atlantic Ocean, 23, 47, 52, 55, 124, 135, needs 149, 198, 209, 241, 242, 273, 377 Batak (Indonesians), 351, 352, 358

aunt(s), 37, 38 , Batavia (Indonesia), 346

Australia or Australian (Oceania), 5, 6, 25, Bavaria (Germany), 86, 160

27, 32, 35, 36, 39, 44, 51, 174, 176, beans, 53, 124, 126, 179

223-230, 234, 378, 386 beard growth, 13, 170, 171. See also puberty

Australian(s), 229. See also Aborigine(s); Bedouin (Arabs), 237, 263; Negev, 237, 263

Australian settlers Beidane (Africans, western), 239, 240

Australian settlers, 227-229 Beijing (China), 311

Austria (Europe, central), 69, 132, 163, Beirut (Lebanon), 246, 247, 267

164, 170, 336, 378, 385 Belgium (Europe, western), 132, 146-148,

automobile(s), 4. See also transport, 170, 250, 278, 283, 284, 336, 378, 385

motor(ized). Belgrade (Yugoslavia), 166

auxiliary worker(s). See worker(s), auxiliary below-replacement fertility. See fertility,

Aymara (Americans, South), 192 below-replacement

Ayoreo (Americans, South), 40, 72 Bena (Africans, eastern), 289

Ayrshire (Scotland), 152 Bengal (Asia, South), 104, 120, 296, 298;

Azande (Africans, central), 283 East, 302, 303 (see also Bangladesh); Azerbaijan (Asia, central), 168 West (India), 299, 306, 312, 318, 324 Aztec(s) (in Mexico), 125, 127, 184 Benin (Africa, western), 235, 236, 241, 243, 250, 269, 275, 280

baby boom (ap. 1945-1960), 214, 215, bequest(s), 77

379, 386 Berber(s) (Africans, North), 241-243, 245,

Babylonia (Asia, Southwest), 71 247

bacteria, 3, 10. See also pathogen(s) beriberi, 355

INDEX , 433 Berlin (Germany), 63, 375, 376 —in America: Caribbean, 190, 194 (by Bermuda (Atlantic Ocean), 385 socioeconomic status, 194, 195); Central, Bernstam, Mikhail, 175. See also 190, 191 (by socioeconomic status, 195);

SS_PE_ES system North, 190, 194, 212, 213, 221 (by

Bertalia (Italy), 159 socioeconomic status, 217; by ethnicity, betrothal, 152, 158, 329 202, 210, 213, 217, 218, 219, 222): Bhat, Mari, 315 South, 183, 187, 190-193 (by socioecoBhopal (India), 65, 333 nomic status, 187, 195; by ethnicity, 187, Bhutan (Asia, South), 270, 296, 299, 315 188, 194)

Bicolano(s) (Filipinos), 355, 358 —in Asia: East, 21, 321, 327, 328,

Bihar (India), 312 365-368 (by socioeconomic status, 364, Bikol (Philippines), 355. See also Bicolano(s) 366, 367); South, 20, 325, 331 (by

bilateral or bilaterality, 26, 33, 36-39, socioeconomic status, 325); Southeast, 44-51, 54, 56, 58, 68, 69, 82, 83, 90, 118, 342, 347, 348, 354, 356, 357; 91, 101, 117, 121, 122, 191, 197, 199, Southwest. 71. 248. 268

birth canal, 16 OMA dian. birth control, 146, 152, 154, 156, 173, song 156 wBe et ea ea 237, 291, 337, 344, 346, 358 —in Europe: central 162 163; eastern

322. See also contraception; contra- 154 156 169 365 378 a ceptive(s); fertility control in Oceania 996228 birth interval(s). See birth spacing birth I S fortili leted birth process. See birth-giving; birth canal irths, total. See fertility, completec birth rato(s) 181. See 550 fertility rate(s); birthweight, 103, 216, 219 births

, Black Death (ap. 1331-50), 88-90, 93,

birth spacing, 18-21, 41, 42, 68, 69; in Bit oo ae “ia tolia), 81, 241

neolithic foragers, 28, 29; in neolithic blood b vn Shoe d 36 “a7 57 ‘975 389

agriculturalists, 40, 41, 43, 48; in Africa, ‘S. . ki ih, Feive 56, 242, 249, 251 (central, 269; eastern, , sor 297 DSP, Ticive

269, 285, 286, 288; southern, 269, 290, Bobangi (Africans, central), 245

western, 20, 269, 270, 279, 280): in Boer(s). See Afrikaner(s) _ Americas, 54; in Asia, East, 21, 52, 119, boiled water. See water, boiled

367 (South, 20, 119, 324; Southeast, Bologna (Italv) 1 seth. 40, 191, 192 49, 50, 119, 340, 345, 346, 349): in ,

Europe, Mediterranean, 157 (western, bondservant(s), 203, 206, 207, 251, 272.

20): in Oceania, 42, 51 See also life-cycle servant(hood); semifree

104, 122 siavery

birth-giving, 9, 16, 17, 21, 95, 98, 103, status: servant(s), life-cycle; slave(s) or birth-giving age(s), 21, 41; in Africa, south Boonah (Australia), 228 of Sahara, 121 (western, 216, 280); in Borneo. See Kalimantan

America, North, 197, 198, 214, 216, Boston (Massachusetts), 63, 220 222, 386; in Asia, East, 372; in Europe, Boswell, John, 74

age(s) 291, 384, 385

Mediterranean, 157. See also childbearing Botswana (Africa, southern), 28, 269, 290,

birth-giving, nonmarital, 72; in Africa, bottle-nursing, 146, 160, 201. See also

central, 284 (western, 279, 280); in breast-feeding America, Caribbean, 194 (North, Brahmin (India, caste group), 300, 314,

218-220, 386; South, 185, 186); in 316, 326

Asia, East, 329, 372, 386 (South, 332); Brandenburg (Germany), 161 in Europe, central, 162, 163, 172, 386 Brazil (America, South), 156, 180, (Mediterranean, 156, 157, 172; western, 184-190, 193, 195, 196, 224, 242, 320,

150, 172, 386; Oceania, 386). See also 385

pregnancy, nonmarital breadwinner pay or wage, 141-144. See

births (numbers born, not fertility rates), also wage, family or living 7-9, 17, 18, 22, 24, 25, 28, 41, 44, 47, breaking voice. See voice, breaking

84, 134 breast-feeding. 149, 150, 160. See also

—in Africa: eastern, 286, 287; North, 21, bottle-nursing; lactation; wet nurse or 248; south of Sahara, 121, 123; western, wet-nursing

20, 274, 277, 281 Breda (Netherlands), 148

434 INDEX bridewealth, 236, 243, 259, 273, 280, California (U.S.), 180, 197, 201, 203, 212,

294, 305, 306, 308, 345. See also 213: northern, 180-182, 198, 226

dower; dowry calorie(s). See diet; malnutrition

Bridgetown (Barbados), 206, 207 Cambodia. See Kampuchea/Cambodia

Bristol (Rhode Island), 206 Cambodian(s). See Khmer Britain (Europe, western), 75, 81, 154, camel(s), 67, 236, 387

177, 206, 222, 224, 257, 263, 266, 282, Cameroon (Africa, western), 241-243, 268,

289, 290, 292, 295, 335, 336, 343 269, 275, 280, 282, 283

British (Europeans, western), 98, 104, 147, camp life, 44. See also bands, forager 153, 185, 186, 189, 193, 210, 221, 229, Canaanite(s) (Asians, Southwest), 47 231, 244, 250, 275, 277, 283, 287, 288, Canada (America, North), 127, 176, 180,

290-293, 295, 296, 299, 305, 313, 315, 189, 196, 198-201, 220-225, 228, 230,

325, 339, 346, 350, 352 293, 378, 385, 386

Brittany (France), 145, 376 canal(s), 43, 45, 64. See also irrigation;

bronze, 43, 45, 49, 69-73, 105, 113, 346 dike(s)

brother(s), 37, 38, 43, 57, 68, 73, 77, 78, cancer, 10, 378. See also carcinogen(s)

83, 94, 95, 100, 103, 110-112, 117, Canton (China), 304

237, 258, 264, 273, 291, 305, 309, 310, Cape Coloured (South Africans), 292-294 316, 329, 351, 363; female, 294, 382. Cape of Good Hope (South Africa), 55, See also kinship, fictive; women, property 233, 244

rights; Zulu Cape region (South Africa), 292

Bruges (Belgium), 147 Capela Nova (Brazil), 188 Brunei (Asia, Southeast), 354 capitalism, 142, 162, 167, 345. See also Budapest (Hungary), 164 economy, market

Buddhism (religion originating in India), carbohydrate(s), 28. See also diet 101, 110, 116-119, 324, 340, 347, 352: carcinogen(s), 10. See also cancer; disease, Mahayana, 109, 119; Theravada, 109, degenerative; disease, exogenous

118, 119, 340 care, basic needs, 21, 26, 377; for aged,

Buddhist(s), 103, 301, 305, 309, 313, 314, 4-6, 21, 22, 26, 70, 314, 317, 377: for

316, 319, 326, 342, 343, 346 aged and young simultaneously, 22, 91,

Buenos Aires (Argentina), 187, 188, 191 214, 306, 373, 374; for young, 4, 6, 21,

buffalo, 196, 200 22, 26, 42, 146, 149, 171, 172, 215,

Buffalo (New York), 210 231, 257, 314, 345, 377. See also family

Bulgaria (Europe, eastern), 133, 165 goals; frail or frailty; ill or illness(es); bullion, 135, 136. See also gold; silver infirm or infirmity bunke, 115, 362. See also household, career worker(s). See worker(s), career

branch; household, side; ie Caribbean islands, 23, 95, 179, 185, 186,

burakumin (in Japan), 339, 361, 363, 367, 189, 190, 194, 195, 206, 215, 224. See

368 also America, Caribbean; Aruba;

burial finds, 41, 69, 79, 84, 89, 125-127 Barbados; Bermuda; Cuba; Dominica; Burkina Faso (Africa, western), 237, 249, French West Indies; Grenada:

269-272 Guadeloupe; Haiti; Hispaniola; Jamaica;

Burma (Asia, Southeast), 107, 119, 120, Martinique; Netherlands Antilles; Puerto 330, 335, 336, 338-340, 343, 385. See Rico; Saba; St. Lucia; San Blas; Trinidad;

also Myanmar Trinidad and Tobago

Burmese (Asians, Southeast), 339, 343, 346 Caribbean islanders, 23, 180, 225. See also

Burundi (Africa, central}, 236, 269 Kuna

bush-fallow, 123. See also agriculture, hoe; Caribbean sea (Americas), 23, 179, 376

swidden Carolina, North. See North Carolina

Bwa (Africans, western), 272, 282 Carolina, South. See South Carolina Byzantine, 125. See also Roman empire, Carolinas (U.S.), 203

eastern Carolines (Oceania), 230 Casablanca (Morocco), 237

Caen (France), 145 Casalecchio di Reno (Italy), 158 Cairo (Egypt), 252, 262 Caspian Sea (Asia), 40

calcium, 11, 216, 342. See also diet, cassava, 9

calcium-poor; vitamin D caste(s), 98-102, 107, 110-112, 119, 184,

Caldwell, John, 383 193, 196, 324, 325, 339, 340: lower.

INDEX 435 98-102, 316, 326; scheduled (in India), 164, 166, 175, 214, 243, 258, 259, 281, 299, 313, 315, 316, 319, 326; upper, 284, 289, 294, 325, 350, 356, 378, 379, 98-103, 299, 300, 313, 314, 316, 318, 381, 382, 387. See also daughter(s); 320, 322-324, 326. See also Bania or offspring; son(s)

or Kshatriya 386, 387

Baniya; Brahmin; Khatri Arorah; Kshatria child-centeredness, 174, 175, 383, 384,

caste group(s), 98-102, 111, 304, 316, 323 child-rearing, 4-6, 20-22, 27, 42, 43, 99, castle, 64, 66, 84, 85. See also lord(s); manor 141, 143, 175-177, 207, 208, 213, 270,

Castlemaine (Australia), 228 279, 280, 306, 329, 343, 351, 379,

Catalonia (Spain), 155 382-384. See also care, for young; cattle, 105, 153, 166, 271, 292 education; family goals; needs, Caucasian(s), 363. See also Indo-European(s) psychological

Cebu (Philippines), 357 child labor, 31, 42, 43, 52, 137, 141, 209,

celibacy, 93, 257, 267, 380, 381; among 271, 318, 329, 343, 349

Buddhists, 102; among Christians, 74, child mortality. See mortality, child 83, 92, 95; in America, North, 187, 200, child support allowances, 215. See also

223; in Asia, East, 300, 341, 360 system, social welfare, governmental (South, 300, 331, 341; Southeast, 340, institutional 341, 343, 350, 353-356); in Europe, child tending. See care, for young central, 134, 162-164, 172 (eastern, childbearing, 20, 21, 99, 117, 119, 176, 134, 165-168, 172; Mediterranean, 134, 177, 214, 240, 249, 306, 383, 384. See 154-156, 158, 172; western, 133, also birth-giving; reproductive span 139, 140, 144, 145, 147, 148, 172, childbearing age(s), 21, 22, 56, 78, 121, 150-154); in Oceania, 33, 51, 223, 228. 124, 142, 285, 286, 320, 351. See also See also monastery or monasteries; birth-giving age(s)

nunnery or nunneries childlessness, 206, 207, 212, 221, 226,

cell differentiation, 14 227, 239, 379, 380, 386. See also cell differentiation defect. See defect, cell barrenness; sterility differentiation children, desire for, 26, 32, 35, 49, 109,

cemeteries, 145 120, 147, 181, 189, 207, 208, 215, 239, census(es), 142, 216, 251, 252, 282, 296, 241, 288, 290, 323, 340-342, 350, 352, 298, 315. See also population, registers; 359, 362, 377, 383, 386; in agriculturrecord(s), parish; record(s), official alists, 43, 52, 53, 69, 70, 82, 151, 209, Central African Republic (Africa, central), 269 277, 285, 286; in artisans, 68; in cottage central Africa(n) sterility belt. See Africa or workers, 142, 159, 205; in cultivators,

African, central sterility belt 42, 68, 90, 94, 118, 158, 159, 254,

Central Treaty Organization, 256 271, 274, 279, 280, 296, 329, 339, 345,

cerebral cortex, 14, 15 349. in elites, 32, 42, 68, 272; in cervical mucus. See mucus, cervical foragers, 28; in herders, 42; in

cervical sponge(s). See sponge(s), cervical landholders, 277; in landlords, 118, 323;

Ceylon. See Sri Lanka in merchants, 68; in pastoralists, 47, 94,

388 141, 143

Chad (Africa, central), 269, 283-286, 387, 271, 285, 286; in wage workers, 137,

charity. See system, social welfare, religious Children’s Crusade (12th century ap), 88

institutional Chile (America, South), 190, 193

Charleston (South Carolina), 207 China (Asia, East), 5, 19-21, 41, 49-53,

Chengdu (China), 329 66-71, 82, 85-87, 90, 92, 93, 101,

Chernobyl (Europe, eastern; in former 104-117, 119, 120, 126, 173, 229, 247,

Soviet Union), 24, 65, 133, 169 295, 297-301, 303-306, 308-313, 317,

Cherokee (Americans, North), 198, 199, 253 319-323, 327-330, 333, 334, 338, 339, Chesapeake Bay region (America, North), 343, 361, 362, 375, 376, 383; imperial,

203, 215 106-112, 162, 297-301, 303-305, 309,

Chiang Mai (Thailand), 342 310, 317, 319, 322, 327, 359 (see also

Chiang Rai (Thailand), 342 : Great Wall of China; Manchu); mainland,

Chiapas (Mexico), 194 21, 32, 93, 298, 306, 311, 317, chicken(s), 49, 50, 52, 56, 310. See also fowl 321-323, 327-330, 378; north,

child or children, 10, 24, 34-37, 57, 85, 105-109, 112, 298, 299, 304, 310, 311, 91, 92, 100, 115, 121, 123, 137, 144, 317, 358; northeast, 297, 303, 309, 310,

436 INDEX 317, 319, 328, 329, 359, 372: one-child clan(s), 82, 83, 112, 114, 115, 122, 153,

policy, 7, 93, 322, 328; People’s 240, 303, 327, 359

Republic, 7, 297, 308, 311, 317, 321, class(es), 97, 110 328-330, 360; south, 105-109, 112, Clayworth (England), 144 297, 303, 304, 310, 317, 336; Taiwan, clergy. See priest(s) or priesthood 21, 297, 300, 301, 303, 304, 312, client(s), 67, 102. See also patron(s);

317-320, 327, 329, 354 patron-client system(s)

Chinese (Asians, East), 8, 23, 70, 81, 82, climate, 11; arctic, 11, 12, 150; cooling, 107-112, 114, 120, 131, 173, 222, 224, 28, 68, 79, 80, 83, 84, 87, 106, 113, 231, 295, 297-301, 303-306, 308-312, 126, 136, 138, 252, 360; subtropical, 317, 319-323, 327-330, 333, 334, 336, 18, 188; temperate, 55; tropical, 11, 18,

344-346, 350, 352, 354, 358, 382 19, 55, 188; warming, 29-31, 39, 68,

Chinese-American(s) (U.S.), 213 81, 87, 97, 106, 113, 126, 190

choice(s), life, 10. See also disease, clitoridectomy, 95, 120-123, 239, 278,

degenerative 287. See also initiation, pubertal, female 349, 355 Coale, Ansley, 6, 7, 320. See also life table(s).

cholera, 99, 107, 120, 140, 296, 298, 337, coal, 140, 297, 376 chopsticks, 108, 320. See also common dish cocoa, 274, 275

Christian(s), 16, 67, 74, 79, 83, 84, 87, coffee, 13, 349 88, 123, 236, 244, 246, 247, 250, 252, co-habitation, 193-195, 332, 347. See also 253, 257, 262, 266-268, 278, 279, 282, marriage, delay in co-habitation or 286, 302, 309, 313, 314, 324, 326, 346, consummation

352, 355 coitus interruptus, 239, 288

Christian priest(s) or priesthood, 8, 83-88, Colca valley (Peru), 179

90, 92, 111-113, 140, 154, 157. See collective action, 34

also papacy Colombia (America, South), 190, 195

Christianity (religion originating in colonial rule. See empire, overseas; imperial

Israel/Palestine), 91-93, 95, 102, rule

111-113, 124, 174, 237, 268, 286-288, colonization, 179-189, 199-207, 227

291, 324, 347, 348, 382, 383; colony or colonies, 143, 147, 155, 156,

Orthodox, 90, 91, 93, 94, 154: 174, 203, 221, 224, 253, 270

Protestant, 92, 172, 209, 213; Roman Coloured (South Africans). See Cape

Catholic, 90, 92, 154, 172, 185, 201, Coloured 209, 213, 243, 265, 267, 355 Columbus, Christopher (European Christians, New (Spaniards in South explorer), 107, 376

America), 185 Colyton (England), 136

chromosomal or chromosome abnormality command economy. See economy, command

or defect. See defect, chromosomal commerce, 42, 87, 340. See also trade

Chumik (Nepal), 331, 332 commercialization, 58, 64, 135, 143, 145,

Chungshe (Taiwan), 327 174, 190, 328, 333, 338, 382; industricircumcision, 121, 278, 287. See also alizing, 58, 59, 64, 135, 338. See also initiation, pubertal, male economic diversification city or cities, 11, 12, 43, 45, 47-49, common dish, 98, 107. See also 51-54, 58, 59, 64, 66, 68, 76, 84, 90, chopsticks; food rules

97, 114, 115, 117, 118, 120, 124, 126, common-law marriage. See union, consensual 132, 137, 139, 156, 160, 189-192, 194, commoner(s), 33, 51, 83, 99, 114-116,

200, 205, 211, 218, 220, 222, 247, 254, 122, 331, 332, 339, 346, 358. See also 276, 278, 311-313, 318, 320, 328, 342, aristocracy or aristocrat(s); nobility or 344, 356, 357, 359, 362, 365, 369, 371, noble(s); subcommoner(s) 375, 376, 387; regional, 58, 59, 63-70, communal land use. See land use, communal

91, 94, 111, 117, 231, 387; world, 58, commune(s), 311, 321, 323. See also 59, 63-65, 91, 92, 94, 101, 107, 120, Great Leap Forward: household lease

124, 128, 236, 337, 375-377, 387. See system

also town(s); urban communication, 321, 375, 387, 388 city dwellers, 64-70. See also townspeople Communism or Communist(s), 163, 165,

city-led, 58, 59, 69, 81, 82, 120, 121 167, 169, 171, 177, 321, 322, 328, 345,

city walls, 43, 45 360. See also economy, state-controlled; Civil War (av. 1861-65, U.S.), 186, 199 Marxism-Leninism

INDEX 437 community, 174, 175, 376, 378, 383. convent(s). See nunnery or nunneries See also neighborhood(s); village(s) Cook, Captain James (European explorer),

compadrazgo. See godparenthood 224

companionate marriage. See marriage, Cook, N. D., 179

companionate Cook, Shelburne, 180-182 compassion, 116, 119 Cook islands (Oceania), 230 | compatibility, 152 cooperating household. See household, completed fertility. See fertility, completed cooperating

computer(s), 379 copper, 135, 338

concealing garb. See women, roles, co-residence or co-resident, 133, 134, 176,

concealing garb 215, 280

concubinage. See union, consensual, formal Cordoba (Argentina), 187, 188

concubinage cordon sanitaire, 10, 375. See also

concubine(s), 70, 77, 188, 303. See also antiepidemic measures; Habsburg(s):; union, consensual, formal concubinage quarantine

conformity, | .

condom(s), corn, 54, 124-126, 179, 191, 216. See confraternities, 383. See also system, social C orporation(s) 64

welfare, religious institutional Costa Rica (America Central), 176, 180

Confucian (school of thought originating in 183. 190 Stee O47 8n aeL 320, 322, cottage industry, 141, 142, 146, 166, 205, Confucius (Chinese teacher) 106, 107 363. See also cottage worker(s); proto-

112. 329 industrialization; putting-out system

Congo (Brazzaville) (Africa, central), 283 OS pornerts , 93, 141-143, 146, 148,

Cones Belaon. See we Zaire cottager(s), 88, 141, 142. See also cottage Congo River or basin or valley. See Zaire, worker's) 85 147

river or valley or basin or country courtly love cult of. 90 conjugal family. See family, conjugal , ,

conjugal fund. See fund, conjugal cousins), 37, _ so eran oe ee conjugal household. See household, conjugal 67 079. ‘el 37.3 3 115. » IO, 293, 294. See also invasion(s); warfare iInea!l paraiiel, ; second, 217

conquest(s), 179-183, 196-199, 225-227, , r i 112: » VO, 917 patri-

consanguine(s), 36 cow(s), 313. See also cattle.

consanguineal family. See family, co-wife or couives, 123, 240, 251, 288

consanguineal cremation, 102

consensual union. See union, consensual Creole(s) (Africans, western), 277

Conservative Party (Britain), 144 Croatia (Europe, eastern), 166 consort, 77. See also concubine(s); slave(s), CTSS cousin(s). See cousin(s), cross

female; slave(s), male; union, consensual Crow (Americans, North), 198

consumer(s), 140, 143, 372 Crow kinship terminology. See kinship

contact, 179-182, 198, 233, 293, 294 terminology, Crow — | contagion or contagious. See disease, crowdedness or crowding, 208. See also contagious; disease, endemic; disease, population, dense; population, pressure

epidemic; infection(s) or infectious; of (on resources)

pathogen(s) Crulai (France), 145

contraception, 17, 78, 140, 142, 143, 192, | Cuba (Caribbean), 190, 192, 193, 385 195, 248, 251, 261, 262, 272, 281, 333, | Cuban-American(s) (U.S.), 202, 203

334, 370, 371, 387. See also cultivation, 48, 54, 58, 68, 97, 184, 199,

contraceptive(s) 270, 271, 338. See also agriculture;

contraceptive(s), 18, 44, 143, 194, 195, bush-fallow; long-fallow; short-fallow,;

230, 231, 247, 255, 262, 298, 330, 351, swidden

359, 360; oral, 322, 380. See also con- cultivation rights, 38, 44, 45, 48, 88, 142, dom(s); intrauterine device(s); sponge(s), 296, 300 cervical; sterilization, voluntary; tubal cultivator(s), 25, 43, 50, 54, 55, 57, 64,

ligation; vasectomy 82, 91, 98, 121, 123, 126, 127, 137,

contract, retirement, 91, 92 159, 181, 196, 197, 199, 226, 236, 238,

438 INDEX 241, 245, 271, 273, 274, 288, 296, 320, density of population. See population, density 339, 343, 361. See also agriculturalist(s) dependency ratio (of dependents to

162 296

culture system, 348, 349 actives), 6—-8, 86, 96. See also ratio of Cyprus (Mediterranean), 41 actives to dependents

Czechoslovakia (Europe, eastern), 89, 132, depression (aD. 1929-38), 213, 218, 222, descendant(s) or descent, 152. See also

Dahomey (Africa, western), 241, 243, 245, offspring

246, 275. See also Benin desertification, 241, 376

dairy products, 20. See also animal(s), milk desertion. See separation, marital

Dakar (Senegal), 276 desiccation, 68, 81, 97, 105 Dala (Sweden), 149 desire for children. See children, desire for Damascus (Syria), 265 Devon (England), 136 Dane(s) or Danish (Europeans, western), 180 Dhaka (Bangladesh), 326

Daoism or Daoist (school of thought dialysis, 4

originating in China), 109 diarrhea, 278

Daoyi (China), 303, 309, 310, 317, 319, Dickson Mounds (America, North), 54, 126

327, 328, 367 diet, 10, 28, 29, 31, 41; calcium-poor, 216;

Daudzewas (Estonia), 165 carbohydrate-rich, 94; protein-poor, 41,

daughter(s), 8, 33, 42, 43, 51, 70, 72-74, 49, 94, 275, 290; protein-rich, 28, 342. 76, 77, 87, 95, 103, 112, 115, 134, See also malnutrition; minerals; nutrition; 149, 155, 156, 161, 165, 187, 188, 191, protein; vitamin D 192, 205, 212, 213, 237, 238, 244, 248, — digging stick, 39 277, 291, 300, 304, 305, 307, 309-312, dike(s}, 108, 109. See also canal(s); irrigation

314, 317-319, 321, 324, 328, 329, 333, Diop, L. M., 234 334, 340, 344, 360-363, 368-370, 372 diphtheria, 387 daughter(s)-in-law, 101, 111, 134, 301, discrimination, 143, 361. See also

304, 314, 317, 318, 324 burakumin; prejudice; South Africa,

day laborer(s), agricultural. See wage segregation

worker(s), agricultural disease(s), 25, 26, 55, 68, 79, 88, 93,

de Leon, Ponce (European explorer), 199 98-101, 104, 107, 118, 120, 122, 124, death rate(s), 54, 102, 148, 166, 197. See 128, 180, 199, 218, 225, 226, 229, 231,

also deaths; mortality rate(s) 233, 236, 296, 308, 354; childhood, 10,

deaths, 3, 4, 7-9, 17-19, 22, 24, 25, 41. contagious or infectious, 10, 11, 14, 25, See also death rate(s); mortality rate(s) 44, 126, 132, 159, 181, 284, 306 (see Deerfield (Massachusetts), 204, 206, 208 also acquired immunodeficiency defect, birth, 9, 11, 14, 18, 308; cell syndrome (AIDS); anthrax; cholera; differentiation, 14-16, 18 (see also diarrhea; diphtheria; dysentery; anencephaly; microcephaly); chromo- gonorrhea; influenza; kuru; malaria; somal, 11, 13-16, 18 (see also Down’s measles; pathogen(s); plaque; polio; syndrome, Huntington’s chorea; retinitis rinderpest; sleeping sickness; smallpox;

pigmentosa); congenital, 11, 14 tetanus; tuberculosis; whooping cough);

defoliant(s), 338, 344 degenerative, 4, 9-11, 14, 126, 132,

deforestation, 22, 40, 43, 49, 58, 68, 97, 230, 231, 406 (see also Alzheimer’s 105, 108, 125, 132, 190, 241, 311, 333, disease; anemia; beriberi; cancer;

338, 376 carcinogen(s); choice(s), life;

degradation, environmental, 40, 58, 59, Huntington’s chorea; kwashiorkor; lead 241, 248. See also deforestation; desert- poisoning; pollution, chemical; retinitis ification; desiccation; erosion; pollutants pigmentosa; smoke; sudden infant death

or pollution; salinization; wastes syndrome; wastes, toxic); endemic, 4,

Delaware River or basin or valley (America, 10, 71, 113, 148, 337, 340, 355.

North), 127 endogenous, 10, 11; epidemic, 4, 10, 11,

Delhi (India), 295, 299, 326 148, 337, 355 (see also epidemic(s));

Demeny, Paul, 6, 7, 381. See also exogenous, 10, 11; gastrointestinal, 3, incorporation, marital; life table(s) 145; germ theory of, 4, 333; respiratory,

Denevan, William, 179 3, 145; venereal, 17, 103, 123, 181,

Denmark (Europe, western), 89, 132, 148, 182, 224, 229, 240, 242, 272, 284, 285

171, 180, 378 (see also acquired immunodeficiency

INDEX 439 syndrome (AIDS); gonorrhea; syphilis; economic diversification, 26, 136, 190,

tuberculosis, genital) 207, 371, 376, 377, 383, 384, 388. See

distance and time, 63 also commercialization; economy, market:

divorce, 21, 47-50, 70, 72, 83, 94, 95, energy revolution; industrialization; 102, 173, 381, 382; in neolithic foragers, technology 36; in neolithic agriculturalists, 46, 47 economic system(s): regional, 63, 64; —in Africa: central, 283, 284; eastern, worldwide, 63, 64 283, 285, 287: North, 237; south of economy: command, 64, 167, 248; market, Sahara, 56, 58, 122, 240, 285; southern, 167, 271, 291, 294, 387 (see also 291; western, 236, 270, 271, 274, 277, capitalism; economic diversification);

282, 283 state-controlled, 167 (see also

——Americas, 54, 127 Communism or Communist(s);

—America, North, 181, 201, 210, 214, Marxism-Leninism; socialism, state).

215, 218-220, 222, 382, 386 Ecuador (America, South), 190, 191

—Asia: East, 52, 111, 115, 117, 327, 338, education, 140, 244, 247, 257, 270, 275,

366, 367; South, 305, 326, 331, 332: 279-281, 290, 292-294, 300, 307, 312, Southeast, 119, 338, 347, 348, 353, 315, 341, 350, 351, 353, 356, 357, 359, 355; Southwest, 237, 254, 258-268 361, 372; public, 7, 136, 175-177, 209, ——Europe: central, 163, 386; eastern, 168, — 282, 321, 374, 377, 383, 384 (see also

169, 386; Mediterranean, 74, 77-79, schooling; SS_PE_ES system); sex, 386,

386; western, 91, 144-146, 150, 152, 387

154, 228, 386 Education Bill (ap. 1870, England), 140

—Oceania, 51, 225, 228, 229 egalitarian or egalitarianism, 31, 320, 378. —women’s ages among Barma, 284 See also hierarchy; individual or —See also annulment; separation, marital, individualism

permanent Egypt (Africa, North), 23, 49, 55, 58, 65,

dominance, 198-200. See also conquest(s); 68-72, 76, 78, 81, 86, 87, 94, 95, 120,

contact 241, 243, 244, 246, 247, 262, 265, 266,

Dominica (Caribbean), 385 268, 307, 308 donkey(s), 67 Egypt-Israel wars (ap. 1948, 1956, 1967,

Dorset (England), 144 1973), 268

Douala (Africans, western), 280 Egyptian(s) (Asians, Southwest), 72, 73, dower, 382. See also bridewealth; dowry 76, 92, 95, 121, 233, 244, 264

Down’s syndrome, 15, 237 Ekiti (Nigeria), 281

dowry, 102, 155, 156, 301, 305-308, 311, election(s), 250, 275, 276, 282, 288, 292,

314, 382. See also bridewealth; dower 320, 322, 323

drought(s), 101, 106-108, 114, 241, 270, electricity, 4, 264. See also hydroelectricity;

27/6, 298 power, nuclear

duolineal or duolineality, 33, 37, 38, elite(s), 31, 32, 34, 43, 74, 76, 78, 102, 44-47, 49, 51, 54, 56, 57, 69, 82, 117, 107-109, 118, 133, 134, 140, 162, 183,

121, 122, 127, 291, 337 184, 188, 189, 239, 242, 243, 245, 248,

Durand, John D., 48, 105, 131, 233, 234, 295 260, 301, 304, 308, 338-340, 342, 346;

Dutch (Europeans, western), 147, 186, hereditary, 34, 339; labor demands, 32, 189, 233, 235, 244, 245, 292-294, 339, 52, 53, 57, 58, 68 (see also labor de-

345-348, 352 mand(s); labor duty); punishments by,

dysentery, 12, 337; amebic, 9 33, 34, 236; rewards by, 33. See also

Dyson, Timothy, 295 emperor(s); leader(s); monarch(s) or

monarchy; priest(s) or priesthood; royal

earn or earner(s), 68, 141, 143, 175, 189, or royalty; ruler(s); warrior-administra190, 218, 286, 291, 292, 305, 326, 350, tor(s); warrior-ruler(s) 363, 368, 369, 372, 378, 379, 387. See emancipation, 189, 194, 209, 244, 246, also child labor; employment; protoin- 361. See also manumission; slave(s) or

dustrial; wage worker(s); work, paid slavery

earnings seniority, 175-177, 374, 383, embarrassment, power of, 65, 387, 388. 384. See also SS_.PE_ES system See also global village; villager(s)

earthquake(s), 108, 114, 241 embryo(s), 13-15. See also gestation

eastern See also migration

eastern Roman empire. See Koman empire, emigrant(s) or emigration, 7, 24, 139, 252.

440 INDEX —from Asia: central, 246; East, 298, epidemic disease. See disease, epidemic;

313, 360; South, 297, 313, 315 epidemic(s)

—from Europe: central, 173, 209; eastern, equal partible inheritance. See inheritance,

165, 173, 193, 208; Mediterranean, 155, equal partible

156, 159, 173, 184-186, 193, 208; Equateur (Zaire), 283 western, 14, 139, 147, 149-154, 173, Equatorial Guinea (Africa, western), 269

199, “@) 78, 79 13.116 124.297. Seel population, in equilibrium emperor(s}, /0, /7, ; , , equilibrium. ergotism,

360, 367 Erie County (New York), 210

empire, overseas, 63, 147, 167, 180, 222: erosion, 43, 108, 125, 333

acquisition, 63, 135, 234, 270; loss, 63, Eskimo. See Inuit

293. See also imperial rule Eskimo kinship terminology. See kinship emprovee(s), 379. See also wage worker(s); terminology, Eskimo

WOrk, pal Essex (England), 93, 136

employer(s), 141, 219, 361, 379 octatets) a ontracted with classes), 97, 98 employment, 134, 136. See also work, paid Fetonia (Europe, eastern), 164-168, 172

enclose or enclosure, 136, 137 Estonian(s) (Europeans, eastern), 164-168 endemic disease. See disease, endemic Ethiopia (Africa, eastern), 55, 123, 236, endogamous or endogamy, 186, 222, 239, 944. 286. 287

242, 253, 254, 267, 272, 317338 eucalyptus,

endogenous disease. See disease, endogenous Eurasia or Eurasian, 12, 25, 47, 69, 106,

endurance (human physical). See strength, 113. 127

endurance ble 6 Eurasian(s) (Indonesia), 346

energy, dopond ©; See technol Europe or European, 6, 12, 17, 25, 27, 41, onergy- dependent C6 PECANONOSY: 48, 50, 69, 71, 93-95, 105-108, 124,

energy efficiency, See technology, 126, 131-177, 179, 189, 192, 211, 222,

energy-efficient 223, 225, 232, 233, 238, 245, 247, 248,

energy revolution, 132, 376. See also 250-252, 204, 256, 264, 268, 271, 335,

fuel(s), fossil 336, 339, 362, 365, 367, 374-378,

Eng, Robert Y., 370 381-384, 386

Enga (New Guineans), 8, 102 —central or middle, 82, 85, 89, 134, 135, 159-164, 171, 337, 377. See also

England (Europe, western), 12, 16, 87-90, 8 an

93, 99, 132, 133, 135-149, 152, 153, Austria; Germany; Switzerland 159-162, 166, 168-170, 173, 174, 177, —eastern, 17, 86, 89, 90, 132, 133, 135, 185, 198, 199, 203, 206, 210, 218, 220, 153, 159, 164-172, 177, 209, 210, 245,

221, 223, 225, 227, 228, 254, 989 365, 376-378. See also Albania;

English (Europeans, western), 88, 136-144, Balkan(s); Baltic; Bulgaria; Croatia; 152, 153, 160, 169, 172, 181, 182, 185, Czechoslovakia; Estonia; Hungary; Latvia;

189, 200, 203, 218, 228 245, 382 Macedonia; Poland; Rumania; Russia; English-American(s) (U.S.), 213 Serbia; Soviet Union; Yugoslavia

English-Canadian(s), 222 —medieval (ap. 400-1500), 81-93

entourage(s), female, 72-74, 92-94, 102, —Mediterranean, 73-80, 154-159, 166, 109, 110, 118, 119, 123, 127, 200, 257, 171, 179, 182, 188, 195, 196, 210, 219,

258, 266 324. See also Greece; Italy; Portugal; Spain

environment, 40, 58, 59, 188, 220, 376. —non-Mediterranean, 48, 66, 71, 80-93 See also degradation, environmental; —northern, 82, 84, 85, 135, 145, 198, 377 pollution, environmental; protection, —northwestern, 19, 20, 85, 91, 106, 157, environmental; restoration, environmental 176, 210, 336 epidemic(s), 8, 11-13, 20, 25, 41, 43, 44, | —southeastern, 89, 90, 252 50, 54, 58, 65, 67, 68, 76, 79, 81-84, —southern, 145, 210, 234, 377 87, 89, 90, 92, 99-101, 106-108, 113, —western, 5, 26, 85-90, 98, 116, 114, 116, 117, 120, 125, 136, 150, 171, 134-154, 166, 171, 174-177, 179, 203,

181, 183, 188, 197, 199, 205, 209, 209, 210, 215, 219, 238, 246, 254, 255, 233-235, 252, 271, 289, 292, 294, 270, 324, 337, 365, 376-378, 388. See 296-298, 308, 309, 345, 349, 352, 354, also Belgium; Denmark; England;

355, 360, 363-365, 367. See also Finland; Iceland; Ireland; Italy;

disease, epidemic Luxembourg; Netherlands; Norway:

INDEX 441 Portugal; Scotland; Spain; Sweden; family or families, x, 7, 48, 64, 137, 146,

Switzerland; Wales 376, 387; associative, 334, 362:

European(s), 5, 6, 12, 13, 19, 22, 23, 36, conjugal, 57, 100, 238, 283, 377, 379, 45, 49, 53-57, 65, 73-93, 101, 104, 382; consanguineal, 57, 121, 122, 238, 107, 117, 118, 122, 131-177, 179-181, 284, 377, 378, 381, 382; extended, 20, 184, 186-188, 193, 196, 199, 201, 209, 21, 82, 133, 134, 142, 144, 158, 159,

211, 216, 220, 224-226, 228, 235, 164-166, 169, 183, 200, 202, 210, 219, 242-249, 251, 253, 257, 272, 275-278, 316, 317, 326, 352, 361, 369, 382. 286, 287, 293, 314, 323, 329, 339, 340, four-generation, 22, 374, 387; joint, 20, 345, 346, 350, 358, 361, 377, 380-382, 21, 100, 101, 111, 314-317, 319, 325, central, 159-164; early modern (aD. 361, 369, 382; modified extended, 19, 1500-1800), 21, 131-172; eastern, 65, 374; multiple, 133, 134, 158, 159, 210, 228, 256, 388; medieval (av. 400-1500), 315, 316; nuclear, 34, 82, 100, 138, 16, 19, 31, 72, 81-94; Mediterranean, 200, 202, 203, 316, 317, 326, 374, 379, 73-81, 84, 154-159, 203: northern, 386; stem, 155, 314, 338, 361, 362, 80-93, 199; northwestern, 20, 24; 369, 372-374, 386 (associative, 334, southern, 228, 256; western, 5, 8, 19, 386; serial, 314, 315, 334, 343); three-

72, 155, 252, 336, 368, 377, 388 generation 20-22, 133, 210, 213, 387.

European-African(s) (South Africa), 291-294 See also household European-American(s) (United States), 198, family goals, 7, 21, 22, 26, 84, 175, 176,

200, 205-210, 212-220, 231, 294, 386 377, 378, 387, 388. See also care; ratio,

European-Canadian(s), 221, 222 favorable

European Economic Community, 144, 376, family group(s), 57, 58, 82, 86, 89, 90,

377 100, 108, 109, 111-116, 120-122, 203,

European offshoots, 26, 135, 174, 176, 388

177, 179-232 family households, 46, 89, 90, 94, 108,

evaporation, 108 112, 113, 133, 134, 144

examinations, civil service, 110, 112, 322 family pattern(s) or system(s), ix, 68, 136

exogamous or endogamy, 90 —among neolithic agriculturalists, 44

exogenous disease. See disease, exogenous —among early city-led agriculturalists, 44—46

expectancy: birth, x, 4-6, 25, 41, 54, 78, —among pastoralists, 46, 47 79, 87, 107, 126, 127, 136, 140, 142, —among classical Greeks and Romans, 73,

145, 148, 150, 153, 155-157, 165, 169, 75, 76, 83

170, 176, 192, 197, 200, 204, 206, 216, © —among early Germanic peoples, 80-83 221, 225, 230, 256, 257, 262-265, 270, —among indigenous Americans, 54 271, 283, 288, 341, 344, 354-356, 362, —in Africa: central, 283; eastern, 288:

371, 383, 388; life, x, 3-6, 29, 87, 89, North, 72; south of Sahara, 57, 58, 121, 92, 98, 163, 169, 172, 189, 209, 214, 132, 239-241; southern, 290, 293;

254, 343, 350, 364, 367; at 1 year, 113; western, 244, 270 |

at 5 years, 5, 113, 116, 117; at 10 —in America: Latin, 188, 190; North, 222 years, 5; at 15 years, 4, 5, 18, 19, 39, —in Asia: South, 334; Southeast, 49, 50, 41, 69, 75, 84, 89, 93, 99, 107, 113, 82, 338, 339; Southwest, 72, 257-268 116, 126, 127, 346; at 20 years, 4, 6, —in China, 53, 86, 109, 111-113, 334: 19, 20, 41, 58, 69, 78, 79, 88, 89, 93, north, 106; south, 311 99, 107; at 60 years, 170. See alsolongevity | —in Europe: central or middle, 133, 134;

exposure, of infants, 73, 74, 76, 78; in eastern, 86, 90, 133, 134, 164-166; classical Greece, 72, 75; in classical Mediterranean, 72, 74, 75, 83, 84, 90, Rome, 72, 75-77; in medieval Europe, 133, 134, 155, 157-159: non-Mediter83. See also foundling(s); foundling ranean, 82, 83; western, 81, 91, 133,

hospital(s); offering, of infants 144, 153

extended family. See family, extended —in India, 86, 100, 101, 109, 320: north, extended household. See household, extended 100, 101, 106, 111, 314-316; south,

extrauterine fertilization. See fertilization, 100, 314

extrauterine —in Japan, 114-117, 361-363

—in Korea, 338, 339, 358-360 factory or factories, 64, 132, 136, 137, | —See also ambilineal or ambilineality; 141, 143, 163, 166, 356, 372. See also bilateral or bilaterality; duolineal or duo-

industrialization lineality; fission; fusion; matrilineal or

442 INDEX matrilineality; neolocal or neolocaility; —in islands, 73, 351, 360, 361 patriarchal; patrilineal or patrilineality; —in peninsulas, 73, 337, 353

uxorilocal or uxorilocality —in Africa: eastern, 286-289; North, 76,

family unit(s), 30, 34, 35, 44, 46, 47, 238, 248, 251, 340; south of Sahara, 49-51, 53-58, 68-70, 74, 75, 82, 86, 128, 237, 251: southern, 291, 293;

91, 108, 124, 127 western, 270-282

family wage. See wage, family or living —in America: Caribbean, 190, 192, 195, famine(s), 100, 101, 136, 149, 151, 153, Central, 190, 192, 195; North, 190, 192, 240, 287, 290, 291, 296, 298, 308, 311, 194, 195, 198, 200, 201, 203, 207-213,

321, 355, 365, 375 217, 221-223: South, 190, 192, 195

Far East (Asia, East), 247 —in Asia: East, 110, 173, 301, 320-323,

Fargues, Philippe, 260 328, 330, 336-338, 359, 360, 363-365, farmstead(s), 11, 149, 153, 165, 289 371, 372; South, 100, 101, 104, 295,

Fascist(s) (Italy), 158 301, 323, 324, 326, 330, 336,

father(s), 8, 33, 36-38, 45, 56, 69, 70, 73, Southeast, 118-120, 336-338, 340, 342,

74, 77, 78, 83, 86, 88, 94, 95, 100, 343, 350, 351, 353, 354, 357;

110-112, 117, 156, 190, 215, 236, 237, Southwest, 71, 72, 238, 246-248, 251, 243, 253, 254, 258, 262, 267, 305, 310, 255-257, 260-268 316, 329, 365, 372, 378, 379, 381, 382, —in Europe, 82, 83, 172-177, 251, 377;

387; female, 56, 381. See also central, 161-163; eastern, 164, 165, fatherhood; genitor; kinship, fictive 168, 173; Mediterranean, 72, 74,

father(s)-in-law, 253, 305 154-159, 336; western, 139, 140, 142, fatherhood or fathering, 200, 379, 382, 143, 145-151, 154, 157, 173, 210, 336 386, 387. See also paternal —in Oceania, 225, 231 favela, 190. See also shantytown —See also abstinence; contraception;

fecundability, 21 contraceptive(s); entourage(s), female;

fecundity, 13, 23, 80, 94, 120, 122, 380 fertility reduction; lactation; marriage female brother(s). See brother(s), female ages, late; marriage, delay; separation, female cohesiveness or bonding, 33, 45. marital, temporary; sleeping arrangements See also male cohesiveness or bonding fertility rate(s), marital, xi, 367; total, xi,

female disadvantage, 17, 18, 31, 32, 45, 127, 195, 323 75, 80, 301, 306-311, 313, 332, 358; —in Africa: central, 269; eastern, 269, dietary, 17, 75, 95, 97, 104, 110, 286, 288; North, 261, 262, 264; south of 299, 307. See also male advantage; Sahara, 195; southern, 269; western, malnutrition; mortality, female (high); 269, 279 neglect, of females; son preference —in America: Caribbean, 195; Central, female entourage(s). See entourage(s), female 195; North, 127, 194, 195, 201, 223.

female father(s). See father(s), female South, 195

Fengtien (China), 303. See also Daoyi —in Asia: East, 320, 322, 326-328, 330, fertile cycle(s), 41. See also amenorrhea; 359, 360, 367, 370, 372; South, 321, anovulation or anovulatory cycle(s); 322, 326 (by caste, 326; by religion,

menstruation 336); Southeast, 350, 351 (by ethnicity,

fertility, 23, 142; below-replacement, 351, 353); Southwest, 255, 261, 262,

175-177, 223, 311, 322, 378; 264, 268

completed, xi, 143, 149, 151, 158, 161, —in Oceania, 223 163-165, 168, 182, 183, 190, 191, 194, fertility reduction, 26, 49, 146, 175-177, 197, 200, 201, 204, 205, 207, 209, 211, 211, 212, 220, 248, 290, 311, 318, 221-223, 226-228, 255-257, 271, 272, 320-322, 342, 351, 359, 383, 384, 386. 276, 279, 281, 285-288, 312, 313, 342, See also contraception; contraceptive(s):

350, 354, 356, 366, 367, 370, 371; fertility limitation

high, 42, 122, 154, 165, 202, 227, fertilization, 13, 14, 17; extrauterine, 379, 247-252, 260-269, 342, 359 (reasons 380. See also technology, reproductive or incentives for, 42, 165, 247-251); fertilizer(s), chemical, 190, 333

low, 42 fetal or fetus(es), 14—16, 20, 308;

fertility cycle(s), 19. See also menstruation anomalies, 14-16, 18, 171. See also

fertility limitation, 32, 33, 51, 85, 89, 95, gestation

96, 103, 319, 377, 378, 383 feud(s), 254, 280. See also honor

—in arid regions, 71-73 fictive kinship. See kinship, fictive

INDEX 443 Fiesole (Italy), 157, 171 fowl, 52. See also chicken(s); waterfowl

Fiji (Oceania), 23, 25, 231, 339, 350 frail or frailty, 4-6, 22, 26, 373, 377. See

Filipina(s) or Filipino(s) (Asians, also infirm or infirmity

Southeast), 231, 356-358. See also France (Europe, western), 17, 81, 86, 88,

Philippines 90, 132, 133, 135, 138, 143-146, 148,

Finland (Europe, western), 150, 151 155, 158, 164, 169, 170, 177, 185, 198,

149-151 335, 336, 376, 385 |

Finn(s) or Finnish (Europeans, western), 199, 208, 221, 224, 264-268, 270, 278, fish or fishing, 42, 51, 53, 55, 124, 125, Free China Journal, 329

127, 135, 151, 179, 199 Freetown (Sierra Leone), 277

fish weir(s), 32, 34 French (Europeans, western), 143, 145, fission, 133, 134 146, 161, 186, 189, 193, 200, 207, 221, Flanders, 146, 147 | 224, 229, 245, 249, 261, 264-268, 270, flax, 153, 191. See also linen 271, 275-277, 283, 286, 316, 337, 339, flood(s), 101, 106-108, 114, 298 344 Florence (Italy), 26, 156, 157. See also French-Canadian(s), 221, 222

Tuscany French Guiana (America, South), 385

Florentine. See Florence; Tuscany French Revolution (av. 1789-1815), 145,

Florida (U.S.), 199, 203, 338 208

food(s), staple, 9, 20. See also beans; French West Indies (Caribbean), 193. See

grain(s); quinoa; root crop(s) also Guadeloupe; Martinique

food(s), storage, 3, 13, 140, 170. See also friar(s), 33, 180-183. See a/so missionary

refrigeration or refrigerator(s) or missionaries, Christian

food rules, 98-100, 107. See also caste(s) frontier area(s), 86, 191, 357

footbinding, 110 fuel(s), fossil, 3, 333, 376. See also coal: forager(s), 4, 13, 27, 30-36, 38, 40, 44, energy revolution; oil 47-50, 54, 56-59, 71, 117, 118, 122, Fujian (China), 303 123, 126-128, 180-183, 196, 199-201, Fujito (Japan), 364-366, 368, 370 226, 236, 319, 320. See also bands, Fukiage (Japan), 370

forager; foraging Fulani (Africans, western), 236, 245, 250,

foraging, ix, 29, 34-36, 40, 51, 53, 69, 276, 282. See also Fulbe; Peul

239. See also forager(s) Fulbe (Africans, western), 236, 271, 272.

forced labor. See labor duty See also Fulani; Peul

Fore (New Guineans), 10. See also kuru functioning household. See household,

forest(s), 36, 84-87, 97, 122, 132, 166, functioning

220, 236, 241, 243, 244, 272, 274, 275, — fund, conjugal, 237, 281, 357, 382, 383.

319, 320, 338 lineage or lineal, 294, 382, 383

Fortes, Meyer, 248 furnace(s), 4, 12. See also stove(s)

fossil fuel(s). See fuel(s), fossil fusion, 133, 134 foster grandparent(s), 240. See also

fosterage or fostering; kinship, fictive Gabelbach (Germany), 161

foster kinship. See kinship, foster Gabon (Africa, central), 243, 269, 283 foster mother(s), 240. See also fosterage or | Gainj (New Guineans), 7, 13, 41, 44, 51,

fostering; kinship, fictive 71, 127

fosterage or fostering, 57, 238-241, 244, Galicia (Austria), 155 270, 277, 278, 280, 378, 382. See also Gambia (Africa, western), 241, 243,

foster grandparent(s); foster mother(s); 275-277, 383 kinship Gandhi, Indira, 322 foundling(s), 157, 158, 172, 185, 193. See Ganges River or basin or valley (Asia,

also exposure, of infants; foundling South), 49, 50, 52, 82, 97, 104, 105,

hospital(s) 107, 108, 299, 308

foundling hospital(s), 83, 87, 92, 157, 168, garden-islands, 124 172. See also system, social welfare, Garonne valley (France), 145, 146

religious institutional; wet nurse or gecekondu, 255. See also shantytown

wet-nursing gender role(s), 27, 45, 47, 141, 199, 270;

four-generation family. See family, four- among indigenous North Americans, 200.

generation See also men, role(s); women, role(s)

Fouta Toro (Guinea), 276 generational span, 99

444 INDEX incisions 374

generative organ, 32, 49. See also penile 101, 103, 106, 112, 177, 314, 324, 373,

genetic inheritance, 382, 384 grandmother effect, 20, 101, 281, 324,

Geneva (Switzerland), 163 325. See also abstinence, permanent or genitor, 56, 57, 123, 387. See also terminal

father(s), female grandparent(s), 5, 21, 38, 70, 82, 85, 103,

Georgia (U.S.), 198, 199, 203, 207 176, 177, 197, 200, 202, 219, 314, 352, germ theory of disease. See disease, germ 365, 373, 374, 378

theory of Grasshopper Pueblo (America, North), 126

German(s) (Europeans, central), 25, 138, Graunt, John, 8

143, 160-164, 171, 228, 289 great-grandchild or great-grandchildren, 281

German-American(s) (U.S.), 209, 213 great-grandparent(s), 38, 152, 217

German-Canadian(s), 222 Great Leap Forward (China, ap. 1957-

Germanic peoples (Europeans), 80-86, 106 1961), 321 Germany (Europe, central), 10, 17, 24, Great Wall of China, 106, 297, 298 42, 78, 86, 90, 132, 143, 145, 148, Greece (Europe, Mediterranean), 41, 69, 159-164, 170, 177, 209, 210, 221, 252, 72-76, 80-82, 85, 89-91, 99, 100, 107,

257, 336, 378 134, 154, 155, 253, 254, 346, 385

gerontocracy, 31, 33, 34, 239-241, 244, Greek(s) (Europeans, Mediterranean),

245, 259, 270, 275, 285, 290 73-76, 81-83, 89, 154, 155, 174, 234, 253

gerontocratic polygyny. See polygynous or Greenhalgh, Susan, 320

polygyny, gerontocratic Greenland (America, North), 180, 201, 230

gestation, 16, 18, 21, 379, 380; minimal green party or parties, 132

for viability, 14; surrogate, 379, 380. See © Grenada (Caribbean), 385 also fetal or fetus(es); pregnancy; tech- Guadeloupe (Caribbean), 385. See also

nology, reproductive, female French West Indies

Ghana (Africa, western}, 238, 249, 268, Guangdong (China), 304, 311, 323 269, 271, 275, 279, 280, 282-284. See Guangxi (China), 304

also Gold Coast Guatemala (America, Central), 13, 18, 125,

Ghazzali, al-. See al-Ghazzali 126, 180, 182, 183, 191, 199, 233, 384,

glacier(s), 28-30, 39, 48, 53 385

Glasgow (Scotland), 153 guest people. See Hakka

Glastonbury (England), 87, 88 guild(s), 174, 383. See also system, social global village, 65, 91, 337, 338, 375-377, welfare, religious institutional 387, 388. See also embarrassment, Guinea (Africa, western), 241, 269, 275, 277

power of; McLuhan, Marshall Guinea-Bissau (Africa, western), 275, 277

Goa (India), 336 Guizhou (China), 298, 304

goat(s), 56 Gujerat (India), 299, 312, 324 godkin. See godparenthood guns, 226, 235, 242

godparenthood, 90, 196, 203, 382. See Guyana (America, South), 193. See also

also kinship, fictive French Guiana

gold, 182, 185, 225, 244. See also bullion Gyaling (Nepal), 331-333 Gold Coast (Africa, western), 235, 241.

See also Ghana Habsburg(s) (European rulers), 10, 158, 164 Golden, Mark, 73, 74 Hadza (Africans, eastern), 35

gonorrhea, 12, 348 Haishan (Taiwan), 327

Gorotire (Americans, South), 187, 188 Haiti (Caribbean), 180, 192. See also government(s), 43, 64, 65; central, 10, 11, Hispaniola 65, 111, 113, 114, 118, 127, 136, 285, Hakka (Chinese), 106 311, 320, 345, 350, 351, 361, 375; Halesowen (England), 88, 89, 187 national, 65, 145, 174-177, 189, 190, hamlet life, 44, 45. See also village(s);

200, 256-258, 319, 320, 376, 383 villager(s)

government record(s). See census(es); Han (Chinese), 297, 298, 330

record(s), official Handsome Lake (indigenous North

grain(s), 135-138, 142, 148, 153, 159, American leader), 199

166, 321. See also barley; corn; maize; Harijan. See caste(s), scheduled

millet; oats; rice; rye; wheat harness(es), 84

grandchild or grandchildren, 5, 21, 72, 91, Haryana (India), 312, 323, 324

INDEX 445 Haskell, Thomas, 387 honor, 184, 188, 237, 242, 254, 258, 325.

Hassan, Fekri, 35 See also feud(s); machismo; marianismo Hausa (Africans, western), 122, 273 Honshu (Japan), 113

Hawaii (Oceania), 23, 25, 213, 229-231 Hopi (Americans, North), 197, 198 Hawaiian(s) (Pacific islanders), 12, 230, 231 Hopkins, M. Keith, 78 Hawaiian kinship terminology. See kinship horse(s), 4, 67, 196, 200, 226, 236, 238

terminology, Hawaiian household(s), 7, 39, 45, 47, 48, 94, 95,

head of the household. See household, head 100, 101, 112-116, 120-124, 127, 136,

health hazards, 9-11, 26, 133, 162; of 138, 141, 143, 151, 174, 253, 327: adulthood, 9-11; of aging, 9, 11; of associative, 19, 317; branch, 115, 363; childhood, 9, 11; of infancy, 9, 11 complex, 310, 328, 362; conjugal, 19, health services: city or urban, 139, 211; 26, 206, 351; cooperating, 256, 273, public, 10-12, 133, 175, 192, 211, 317; extended, 19, 142, 161, 163-166, 292-294, 306, 307, 311, 312, 321, 325, 169, 206, 210, 211, 256, 316, 317, 358, 330, 339, 342, 349, 354, 355, 359, 367, 363, 373, 379; functioning, 273; joint,

375 19, 316, 317; multiple, 19, 150, 166,

Hebrew(s) (Asians, Southwest, ancient), 92. 316, 317, 351, 352, 357; nuclear, 19,

See also Israelite(s) 26, 151, 256, 314, 316, 317, 357, 373; Henin, R. A., 285, 286 316, 317, 356, 366, 373; stem, 356, Helgeansholmen (Sweden), 84 shadow, 357; side, 115, 362; solitary,

herder(s) or herding, 34, 36, 39, 47, 48, 363, 366, 373; subresidential units, 273; 57, 58, 331, 333. See also nomad(s) or three-generational, 19, 20, 144, 146, nomadism; pastoralist(s) or pastoralism; 159, 164, 166, 169, 200, 202, 219, 267,

tent group(s); transhumance 273, 317, 332, 341, 362, 373. See also

Hericourt (France), 316 family or families

Hesel (Germany), 160, 161 household, head, 141, 157, 158, 249, 310, hierarchy, 31-34, 37, 39, 46, 97, 184, 328, 356, 365 253, 258, 378. See also egalitarianism household-centeredness, 174, 383 Himalayas (Asia, South), 42, 296, 299 household lease system (in China), 321 Hindu(s), 102, 289, 302, 305, 308, 309, household membership (data on number of

312-314, 320, 324-326, 346, 352 persons, couples, or generations) Hindu-Buddhism, 118, 120, 346, 347, 352 —in Africa: eastern, 289, 385; North, 70:

Hinduism (indigenous religion in India), south of Sahara, 46; southern, 291, 292,

101, 109, 118, 119, 323, 324 384, 385; western, 273, 275-277, 280

Hingham (Massachusetts), 204, 205 —in America: Caribbean, 384, 385; Hippocrates (classical Greek physician), 75 Central, 384, 385; Latin, 46; North, 207,

Hispanic-American(s) (U.S.), 202, 203, 218, 219, 341, 356, 384, 385; South,

213, 218, 219. See also Cuban- 384, 385

American(s); Mexican-American(s); —in Asia, 46; East, 106, 109, 112, 115,

Puerto Rican(s) (in U.S.) 116, 317, 318, 341, 356, 362, 366, 373,

Hispaniola (Caribbean), 180, 182. See also 374, 385; South, 106, 314-318, 385;

Haiti Southeast, 49, 120, 341, 351, 352, 356,

Hitler, Adolf (Nazi leader), 160, 247 357, 385; Southwest, 70, 256, 264, 265, Hiwassee/Dallas (America, North), 126, 127 267, 384, 385

Hmong (Asians, Southeast), 342 —in Europe: central, 86, 91, 161-163,

hoe, 40 384, 385; eastern, 91, 164-166, 169, hoe agriculture. See agriculture, hoe 384, 385; Mediterranean, 70, 75, 91,

Holocaust (Hitlerian), 247 157-159, 384, 385; western, 88, 89, 91,

homicide, 9 144, 146-148, 384, 385 Homo sapiens, 11, 22, 25, 27; neander- —in Oceania, 46, 384, 385

thalis, 11, 27, 28; sapiens, 27, 28 housing, 163, 292, 372-374

homosexuality: female, 381, 382, 384; Huian county (China), 303, 304 male, 74, 381, 382, 384. See also human sacrifice. See sacrifice, human

partnerships, recreative Hun(s), (Asians, central), 84

Honduras (America, Central), 180 Hungary (Europe, eastern), 41, 69, 89, Hong Kong (China), 222, 300, 304, 312, 164, 166, 170, 172, 378, 385

320, 354 hunter-gatherer(s). See forager(s)

446 INDEX hunting: large-game drives, 27-31, 34, 382, 387; partnership, 381, 382, 387.

58; small-game, 29, 125 See also Demeny, Paul

hunting-gathering. See foraging India or Indian (Asia, South), 17, 20, 21,

Huntington’s chorea, 11, 380 23, 24, 49, 65, 66, 68-72, 81, 82,

husband(s), 18, 21, 23, 24, 34, 35, 38, 49, 85-87, 90, 92, 97-106, 108-112, 56, 57, 70, 72-74, 77, 83, 92, 94-96, 115-120, 122, 140, 173, 213, 222, 229, 100-103, 109-111, 115, 117, 119, 120, 231, 234, 289, 291, 295-302, 305-309, 123, 144, 147, 154, 156, 164, 185, 187, 312-326, 330, 333, 334, 336, 339, 343, 189, 193, 196, 200, 211, 218, 237, 238, 344, 346, 352, 375, 380; central, 299, 240, 241, 243, 246, 249, 251, 253-255, 312, 315, 316, 324: eastern, 299, 302, 258, 259, 261, 270, 273, 274, 276, 277, 306, 307, 312, 315, 318, 324; northern, 279-281, 284, 287, 290-292, 294, 300, 13, 41, 47-49, 97, 99-101, 104, 108, 301, 303, 304, 313, 325, 327, 329, 331, 111, 299, 300, 302, 305-308, 310, 332, 350, 353, 358, 359, 361, 362, 366, 312-317, 324~326, 332: southern, 24, 369, 371, 379, 380, 382; visiting, 102, 49, 50, 97, 99, 100, 104, 105, 111,

115, 238, 280, 361, 362. See also 299, 305-307, 309, 312-319, 324, 325.

marriage; spouse(s); wife or wives western, 299, 312, 315, 316, 319, 324, 336

Hutu (Africans, central), 236 Indian(s) (Asians, South), 23, 81, 82,

hydroelectricity, 220, 334 97-103, 111, 173, 231, 243, 295-302,

hypergamy, 102-104 305-309, 312-326, 330, 332-334, 336, 340, 343, 350, 352, 382

Iban (Asians, Southeast), 82 Indian(s), North American (Americans, Iceland (Atlantic Ocean), 151, 378 North), 180-182, 196-203, 225, 226: in ie, 115. See also bunke; household, main Canada, 200, 201, 220; in U.S., Ifaluk (Pacific islanders), 42, 324 197-203. See also American(s), indigenous

Igbo (Africans, western), 194 Indian Knoll (America, North), 54, 126 Iklan (Africans, western), 236 Indian Ocean, 63, 105, 243, 323. See also ill or illness(es), 8, 9, 17-20, 22, 24, 25, Madagascar; Mauritius; Reunion;

41, 181, 377, 380. See also care; Seychelles

disease(s); family goals; frail or frailty; Indiana (U.S.}, 210

infirm or infirmity Indies, the (Asia, Southeast). See Indonesia

illegitimacy. See births, nonmarital; indigenous American(s). See American(s), foundling(s); pregnancy, nonmarital indigenous; Indian(s), North American

Illinois (U.S.), 203 indigenous people as proportion of

Illinois Indian(s) (Americans, North), 183 population, in Americas, 223, 224; in

Ilocano(s) (Filipinos), 358 Australia, 229; in New Zealand, 225, 229

Imhof, Arthur, 161 individual or individualism, 34, 138, 144,

immigrant(s) or immigration, 7, 24, 25, 76, 174-177, 376, 377 79, 106, 113, 143, 149, 159, 173, 184, indiviual-centeredness, 175-177, 383, 384,

185, 191, 208-210, 212, 213, 216, 217, 386, 387

221, 222, 231, 232, 252, 254, 297, 336, —Indo-European(s) (originally from interior of

350, 352, 354, 378. See also migration Asia), 73, 80-82, 97-100, 105, 110. See

immune or immunity, 9, 15, 180, 233 also Caucasian(s)

immunity reaction, 15 Indonesia or Indonesian (Asia, Southeast),

immunoglobin(s), 15 119, 120, 147, 236, 292, 329, 335-339, imperial rule, 234, 245, 248-251, 271, 343, 345-352, 355-357

274-277, 287, 289, 338, 339, 343, 344, Indonesian(s) (Asians, Southeast), 51, 243,

375. See also empire, overseas 345-352

implantation, 14; surgical, 379, 380. See Indonesian Chinese (Asians, Southeast),

also technology, reproductive, female 351, 352, 358

impotence, 200, 331 Indus River or basin or valley (Asia,

Inca (Americans, South), 127, 128, 179 South), 48, 49, 52, 55, 68-73, 81, 94,

income, 135, 139-141, 144, 146, 172, 97, 98, 104

175, 189, 190, 192, 202, 206, 212, 363, industrial-commercial life, ix, 3, 132, 366, 367, 383, 388; agricultural or rural, 141-144, 146, 148, 150, 153, 168-170,

146, 172; distribution, 137, 359 174-177, 220, 231, 248, 256, 317,

incorporation, 381, 382, 387; marital, 381, 377-379, 384, 386~388. See also

INDEX 447 commercialization, industrializing; intrauterine device, 322

industrialization Inuit (Americans, North), 103, 201, 220,

industrial pollutants or pollution. See 225, 226, 230; Netsilik, 33, 72,

pollutants or pollution, industrial Nunamiut, 201

industrialization, 65, 132, 149, 150, 152, invasion(s), 50, 84, 85, 110, 337, 340, 155, 169, 171, 174, 190, 209, 220, 338, 355. See also conquest(s); warfare 342, 361, 372, 376, 379, 380, 382, involuntary abortion. See miscarriage(s) 386-388. See also economic diversifica- Iran (Asia, Southwest), 48, 67, 69, 72, 81,

tion; protoindustrialization 87, 94, 131, 246, 247, 252, 253,

industrializing commercialization. See 257-262, 264, 266, 280, 384, 385 commercialization, industrializing Iranian(s) (Asians, Southwest), 73, 235, infancy or infant(s), 9, 13, 14, 16, 18, 35, 243, 245, 248, 257-260, 271

36, 85, 117, 172, 327 Iraq (Asia, Southwest), 39, 94, 235, 243.

infant mortality. See mortality, infant 259, 261-264. See also Mesopotamia infant-risking practices, 80, 127, 278 Iraq-Iran war (A.D. 1980-88), 259, 263

infanticide, 83, 92, 171, 172, 183, 319, Iraq-Kuwait war (ap. 1990-91), 263, 264 333; female, 33, 44, 51, 72, 74, 83, 87, Ireland (Europe, western), 89, 132, 151, 92, 103, 104, 110, 117, 127, 226, 230, 153, 154, 210, 221, 223, 225, 336; 299, 305, 307, 309-312, 315, 328, 370; Northern, 385 male, 72, 117, 328, 370; in America, Irish (Europeans, western), 153, 154, 173,

North, 33; in America, South, 33; in 208

Asia, East, 110, 309-312, 334, 360, Irish-American(s) (U.S.), 213 363, 365, 370; in Asia, South, 103, 104, Irish-Canadian(s), 222 307; in Europe, Mediterranean, 72, 78. iron, 41, 55, 57, 69, 72, 81, 82, 85, 94, See also exposure, of infants; neglect; 106, 107, 113, 135, 140, 216, 376

offering, of infants Iroquois (Americans, North), 199

infants, separate sleeping. See sleeping Iroquois kinship terminology. See kinship

arrangements terminology, Iroquois

infection(s) or infectious, 9-11, 14. See irrigation, 43, 44, 53, 71, 82, 97, 105,

also disease(s); pathogen(s) 114, 120, 184, 220, 310, 334, 344. See

infirm or infirmity, 6, 306. See also frail or also agriculture, irrigated; canal(s); dike(s)

frailty; ill or illness(es) Isfahan (Iran), 248, 257, 258

influenza, 182, 296, 298 Islam or Islamic (religion originating in

information technology. See technology, Arabian peninsula), 72, 93-96, 118-120,

information 131, 233, 236, 242, 243, 247, 253, 254,

inheritance, 38, 44, 46, 48, 70, 72-74, 76, 256-259, 264, 268, 274, 280, 286, 314, 77, 91, 100, 112, 115, 155, 156, 161, 324, 346-348, 352. See also al-Ghazzali: 237, 240, 264, 272, 273, 280, 291, 305, Islamic teacher(s); Muslim(s); reformer(s), 314, 345, 363; equal partible, 26, 322, Islamic or Muslim; religious charitable 377, 382. See also primogeniture foundations, Islamic; zealots, Islamic initiation, pubertal: female, 74 (in Africa, Islamic teacher(s), 244, 246, 247, 256, 74, 274); male, 74 (in Africa, 74, 274; 258, 259, 274, 280

in Australia, 32, 95). See also Israel (Asia, Southwest), 98, 176, 247, circumcision; clitoridectomy; penile 248, 251, 257, 266, 268, 385

incisions Israeli(s) (Asians, Southwest, modern), 267,

in-migrant(s) or in-migration, 163, 342 268

inoculation, 80, 140, 158, 171. See also Israeli wars. See Eqypt-Israel wars

smallpox Israelite(s) (Asians, Southwest, ancient), 47.

insemination, artificial, 379-381. See also See also Hebrew(s)

technology, reproductive, male Istanbul (Turkey), 246, 253-256 |

instruction. See education; schooling Italian(s) (Europeans, Mediterranean), 64, insurance: health, 172, 202, 219, 381; risk, 65, 147, 154, 158, 191, 236, 286 124, 174, 285, 367; social, 146, 162, Italian-American(s) (U.S.), 213, 220

176, 290 Italy (Europe, Mediterranean), 25, 65, 78, intelligentsia, 34 81, 82, 85, 86, 90, 93, 124, 134, 135, intercourse, 21, 74, 83, 95, 101, 120, 121, 154-159, 166, 172, 228, 385; south, 171, 324, 329, 348, 380, 386; forced, 181 154, 159. See also Florence; Rome;

intermarriage, 282 Sicily; Tuscany

448 INDEX IUD. See intrauterine device Kazakhstan (Asia, central), 168

ivory, 135, 289 Kelantan (Malaysia), 353

Ivory Coast (Africa, western), 239, 269, Kenya (Africa, eastern), 9, 55, 122, 239,

271, 274, 275, 279 241, 251, 269, 283, 287, 288, 322

Izmir (Turkey), 246, 255, 256 Kerala (India), 306, 307, 312, 314

Khatri Arorah (India, caste group), 326

Jain (indigenous religion in India), 302, Khmer (Asians, Southeast), 118, 119, 343,

313, 316, 326 344, 346

Jakarta (Indonesia), 346. See also Batavia Khmer Rouge, 336, 344 Jamaica (Caribbean), 176, 192-194, 231 Khoikhoi (Africans, southern), 233, 292 Japan (Asia, East), 9, 12, 21, 25, 41, 51, Kikuyu (Africans, eastern), 287, 288

53, 66, 69, 86, 93, 101, 108, 109, Kilmarnock (Scotland), 152

113-117, 119, 135, 170, 176, 229, 240, kin, aiders, 341, 351, 352, 357, 358 241, 247, 297, 327, 335-339, 341, 356, __ kin circle or group, 36, 111, 203, 379, 382 359-375, 377, 378, 380, 385, 386. See kindred, 83. See also bilateral or bilaterality

also Tokugawa king(s) or kingship. See monarch(s) or

Japanese (Asians, East), 5, 6, 24, 43, 51, monarchy; royal or royalty

108, 114-117, 125, 173, 224, 229, 231, = King Philip’s War (ap. 1675-76, New

240, 297, 298, 301, 334, 337-339, 344, England), 226

359-374, 388 Kinshasa (Zaire), 283. See also Leopoldville

Japanese-American(s) (U.S.), 212, 213 kinship, 36, 383; fictive, 36, 47, 57, 238,

Japanese Statistical Bureau, 373 239, 381, 382 (see also blood brotherJaunsari (Asians, South), 332 hood; brother(s), female; father(s),

Java (Indonesia), 43, 118, 329, 345-351 female; fosterage or fostering; godparentJavanese (Indonesians), 346-352, 357, 358 hood); foster, 57 (see also foster grand-

Jesus (founder of Christianity), 112 parent(s); foster mother(s); fosterage or Jew(s) (followers of Judaism), 16, 76, 78, fostering) 164, 185, 220, 247, 257; Israeli, 268; kinship terminology, 37, 38; Crow, 37:

orthodox, 16 Dravidian, 37, 104; Eskimo, 37, 38;

Jiangsu (China), 309, 310 Hawaiian, 37, 57; Iroquois, 37; Omaha,

Jie (Africans, eastern), 55 37; Sudanese, 37, 38

Jivaro (Americans, South), 78 kinswoman exchange, 32 Johannesburg (South Africa), 292, 293 Kirghiz (Asia, central), 168, 169

joint family. See family, joint Knodel, John, 160, 161 joint household. See household, joint Kokar (Sweden), 150 Jones, Richard, 35, 48, 105, 233, 234, Kolked (Hungary), 164

295, 296, 325, 335 Kongo. See Bakongo

Jordan (Asia, Southwest), 248, 260-264, Korea (Asia, East), 5, 51, 53, 66, 67, 101,

267, 268 108, 119, 213, 229, 247, 335-339, 356, Israel), 247 360; south, 21, 356, 359, 360

Judaism (religion, originating in ancient 358-360, 372, 375; north, 109, 359,

Justinian code, 155 Korean(s) (Asians, East), 108, 109, 224, 334, 337-339, 356, 358-360, 374.

Kado (Africans, western), 122 north, 356; south, 356

Kafa (Africans, eastern), 286, 287 Kraho (Americans, South), 187, 188

Kagitcibasi, Cigdem, 383 Kru (Africans, western), 279 Kali (Hindu goddess), 99 Ksar Hellal (Tunisia), 248

353, 354 316, 319

Kalimantan (Asia, Southeast), 82, 347, Kshatria or Kshatriya (India, caste group), Kampuchea/Cambodia (Asia, Southeast), Kuna (Americans, Caribbean), 23, 180

336, 339, 340, 343, 344 'Kung, Dobe (Africans, southern), 28, 29, Kando-shinden (Japan), 365-368 36, 44, 71, 115, 127

Kano (Nigeria), 280 kuru, 10. See also Fore

Karen (Asians, Southeast), 118, 341, 342 Kusasi (Africans, western), 249, 279, 280

Karimpur (India), 316, 317 Kutchin (Americans, North), 127. See also Karnataka (India), 312, 316, 325, 380. See Old Crow

also Mysore Kuwait (Asia, Southwest), 260-264, 270

Karpathos (Greece), 155 kwashiorkor, 9, 19

INDEX 449 Kyushu (Japan), 117 latifundista(s), 64, 90. See also minifundista(s)

labor demands, 32, 34, 35, 39, 42, 48, 52, latrine(s), 313 53, 64, 67, 69, 100, 104-106, 109, 116, __ Latvia (Europe, eastern), 164-166, 172 120, 121, 124, 127, 128, 164, 166, 167, —__Latvian(s) (Europeans, eastern), 164-166,

234, 236, 238, 249, 250, 271, 272, 278, 173

283, 289, 290, 296, 297, 339, 343-345, lead poisoning, 79, 106 348, 349. See also elite(s), labor de- leader(s), 31-34, 38, 41-43, 45-48,

mand(s); labor duty 51-53, 64-66, 84, 127, 387. See also

labor duty, 64, 67, 68, 114, 124, 164, 166, elite(s); ruler(s) 167, 245, 249, 250, 272, 274, 278, 289, Leaque of Nations (ap. 1918-45;

290, 299 predecessor of U.N.), 252

laborer(s): clean, 97, 98, 100-102, 316; Lebanese (Asians, Southwest), 278, 288 unclean, 97, 98, 100-102, 315, 339. See | Lebanon (Asia, Southwest), 246, 247,

also burakumin; caste(s), scheduled 260-262, 265-268

Labour Party (Britain), 144 Leicestershire (England), 136, 141

lactation, 18, 19, 27, 40, 42, 48, 50, 51, leisure activities, 270, 351, 372. See also 56, 80, 117, 118, 120, 122, 142, 146, recreation or recreative

171, 237 Lenape (Americans, North), 127

—in Africa: central, 283; eastern, 283, Leningrad (Soviet Union), 169, 172. See

285, 286; south of Sahara, 120, 193; also St. Petersburg

southern, 290; western, 19, 23, 244, Leopoldville (Zaire), 283. See also Kinshasa

270, 275, 281, 285, 337 Le Pen, Jean-Marie (in France), 177

—in Americas, 54, 183, 193 Lesotho (Africa, southern), 269, 283, 290,

—in America: Central, 182; North, 182, 291

195; South, 182 Lesthaeghe, Ron, 174, 175, 268

—in Asia: East, 306, 310, 360, 363; Lhasa (Tibet), 330 South, 306, 332; Southeast, 49, 117, Li, Chengrui, 320

118, 120, 337, 340, 342-344, 346, 347, — Libben (America, North), 126

349, 350 Liberia (Africa, western), 275, 278, 279 —in Oceania, 42 Libreville (Congo), 283

—See also breast-feeding; weaning; wet Libya (Africa, North), 131, 248, 261-263

nurse or wet-nursing life-cycle servant(hood), 19, 24, 87, 133, Ladog (Nepal), 331-333 life expectancy. See expectancy, life Lagos (Nigeria), 281 life table(s), 6, 8, 25, 26. See also Coale, Ladino(s) (Americans, Central), 180 134, 148, 369, 370

land, price, 208 Ansley; Demeny, Paul

landholder(s), 25, 67, 159, 161, 165-167, Liguori, St. Alphonsus (Roman Catholic

205, 207, 256, 313, 323, 331; large, 64, Christian teacher), 158 136, 137, 139, 152-154, 158, 159, 162, Liguria (Italy), 158

164-167, 182, 183, 186-190, 193: Lille (France), 146

small, 189, 190, 205. See also latifundia; Lima (Peru), 185

latifundista(s); minifundista(s) Limousin (France), 145 landless, 139, 149, 159, 161, 162, 165, Linden (Latvia), 165 307, 313, 331, 364, 368. See also poor, lineage, 90, 113, 156, 174, 238, 239, 245,

the; propertyless; unpropertied 249, 259, 272, 280, 285, 294, 298, 301,

landlord(s), 124, 149, 153, 296, 323, 368, 303, 310, 323, 324, 326, 338

369. See also tenant(s) lineage fund. See fund, lineage or lineal

land use, communal, 339, 344, 345, 350, lineal or lineality. See ambilineal or

355 amtilineality; duolineal or duolineality;

Lao or Laotian(s) (Asians, Southeast), 119, matrilineal or matrilineality; patrilineal or

343, 344, 346 patrilineality; unilineality

Laos (Asia, Southeast), 270, 330, 336, lineal fund. See fund, lineage or lineal

339, 340, 343 linen, 85, 146, 147, 153, 154. See also flax

large female entourage(s). See entourage(s), | Lisbon (Portugal), 63, 275, 375

female literacy, 207, 208, 256, 275, 277, 323,

Laslett, Peter, 22, 133, 176, 374 376. See also education; schooling

latifundia, 76, 78, 84 Lithuanian(s), (Europeans, eastern), 169

450 INDEX “little Ice Age” (late 17th century ap), Madras (India), 299, 309

136, 147 Madrid (Spain), 63, 120, 375

liveborn(s), 71, 242. See also birth process; | Madurese (Indonesians), 351

birth-giving; stillbirth(s) or stillborn Magyar(s) (Europeans, eastern), 84

Liverpool (England), 137, 141, 293 Mahabharata (India, epic), 103 livestock, 166. See also animals, domesti- Maharashtra (India), 312, 316, 324

cated; fowl Mahayana. See Buddhism, Mahayana

living wage. See wage, family or living Maine (U.S.), 207

Loango (Zaire), 241 maize, 9, 53, 54, 349. See also corn

locally functioning groups. See bands, major marriage. See marriage, major forager, locally functioning groups Makassar (Asia, Southeast), 346

Lombok (Indonesia), 345 Malapantaram (Asians, South), 319

London (England), 63, 147, 169, 172, 375, = malaria, 10, 54, 56, 78, 104, 117, 203,

376 207, 216, 231, 285, 309, 355. See also

long-fallow, 40-42, 44, 48-53, 55, 58, mosquitoes

113. See also swidden Malawi (Africa, southern), 238, 250, 290

longevity, 3-6, 19-22, 27, 58, 69, 70, 85, Malay(s) (Asians, Southeast), 117, 118,

86, 133, 176, 177, 290. See also 243, 335, 350, 352-354, 358

expectancy Malaysia (Asia, Southeast), 119, 222, 337,

—high, 383 339, 343, 346, 350, 352-354, East, 353,

—low, 18 354; West, 354 —in Africa, 5, 383: central, 283; eastern, Malaysian Chinese (Asians, Southeast), 283; North, 4, 248, 263-265; south of 352-354, 358

Sahara, 4, 283; western, 270, 283 Malaysian Indians (Asians, Southeast), —in America: Latin, 5; North, 5, 6, 176, 352-354, 358

205, 216, 220, 221 male advantage, 31, 32, 80, 301, 307-310,

—in Asia, 5, 6; East, 107, 306, 309, 356, 368; dietary, 17, 299, 307. See also 362, 364-366; South, 99, 306, 315, female disadvantage; son preference 318; Southeast, 341, 344, 349, 350, male cohesiveness or bonding, 27, 33, 38, 354-356; Southwest, 248, 262-265 45: See also female cohesiveness or

—-in Europe, 4—6, 93; central, 170; bonding

eastern, 165, 169; Mediterranean, 75, Mali (Africa, western), 137, 236, 269-273 79, 170; western, 136, 141, 144, 145, malnutrition, 14, 15, 17, 28, 41, 79, 95,

170, 176 125, 126, 128, 170, 171, 191, 296, 307,

—in Oceania, 5, 6, 229, 230 308, 350, 355. See also diet; female

—in world, 383, 388 disadvantage; neglect; nutrition

Lonikand (India), 300, 315, 316 Malthus, Thomas (in England), 140 lord(s) or lordship, 25, 64, 66, 83, 85, 87, Malumfashi (Nigeria), 282

91, 240. See also overload(s) mamak, 51, 52 Louisiana (U.S.), 216, 221 Manchu (Asians, East), 297, 298, 304, Lovedu (Africans, southern), 291 319, 359 Lua (Asians, Southeast), 118, 341, 342 mandate(s), 252. See also League of Nations lumber, 297, 320. See also forest(s); rain- Manila (Philippines), 354, 357

forest; teak; timber manor, 25, 84-89, 91, 116; weaving hall,

Luo (Africans, eastern), 239 85-87, 116. See also castle; lord(s) or Luxembourg (Europe, western), 385 lordship; serf(s) or serfdom Luzon (Philippines), 354-356, 358 Manu (Hindu teacher), code or laws of, 99-102, 118

Maasai (Africans, eastern), 288 manumission, 77, 80, 164, 185, 186, 203.

maboko, 337, 360, 367, 370 See also emancipation; slave(s) or slavery

Macau (China), 336 Maori (indigenous New Zealanders), 12, 38,

Macedonia (Europe, eastern), 89, 90 224-226, 229, 230

Macedonian(s) (Europeans, eastern), 166 Maranao (Filipinos), 358

Machakos (Kenya), 9 Marcilio, Maria Luiza, 179, 180 machismo, 184, 196. See also honor; marianismo, 196. See also honor; machismo marianismo marital fertility rate. See fertility rate, marital

Madagascar (Indian Ocean), 51 market economy. See economy, market Madhya Pradesh (India), 312, 324 marriage, 8, 9, 18, 19, 21, 23, 25, 29, 33,

INDEX 451 84, 127, 136, 145, 154, 162, 163, 176, ~—in Europe: central, 82, 134, 160-164, 181, 185-189, 193-196, 201, 225, 239, 171, 386; eastern, 86, 90, 93, 134, 162, 292, 299, 318, 343, 357, 369, 380-382, 165-168, 171, 172, 386; Mediterranean, 387. See also husband(s); monogamous 72-76, 78-80, 134, 154-159, 171, 179, or monogamy; polyandrous or polyandry; 386; western, 8, 80, 82, 87, 93, 133, polygynist(s) or polygynous or polygyny; 136, 139-154, 171, 172, 179, 210, 386

spouse(s); wife or wives —in Oceania, 223, 225, 228

marriage ages, 19, 22, 58, 83, 84, 134 marriage: arranged, 36, 45, 70, 133, 134, —early (both sexes; under 20), 13, 20, 21, 302, 332, 342, 347, 353, 363, 369, 372: 86; men, 18; women, 17, 18, 21, 41, 46, civil, 254, 291; close-kin (first cousins or

56, 84, 85, 157 closer), 37, 76, 83, 100, 104, 112, 380.

—late (both sexes; late 20s or older), 19, companionate, 270; contract or 21, 26, 85, 154, 156; men, 18, 56, 72, temporary, 259; delay in co-habitation or

India, 101, 302; in Indonesia, 347; ;, 41;, ;in pal, ; in Tunisia,

oer women, 8, 17, 41, 85, 87, consummation, in China, 304 (in Gainj,

—normal ranges, 278 in Kuwait, 264; in Nepal, 332: in Tunisi

— singwate mean, xi, Fo! £07, 284, 303,971 267); dual-career, 21, 22; duration, 214,

988 286. Non "93, oat arneratile 222, 366; first, 237, 378; indissoluble,

, aot , 91, 229, 382; major, 303, 327; minor,

Soe oe ee ore oe 304, 305, 327; pattern(s), 20, 27, 29,

_in America: Caribbean, 127, 196: 30, 71, 81, 166, 193, 209, 218-220, Central, 127, 188, 196; North, 127,187, 22°» 266, 382; premenarcheal or 196, 204-206, 209, 214, 221-223, 386, —-»Prepubertal, 101, 109, 303, 304,

South 127 188 190 191 196 , privileged institution, 176, 381-383; —in Asia: East, 109, 116, 303, 304, 358, uxorilocal, 311, 327

359, 368, 369; South, 99, 104, Martinique (ear sbean), 193, 385. See also

301-303, 314, 331, 332; Southeast, ~~

117, 340-342. 346, 347, 353, 355-357. Marxism-Leninism, 167, 345. See also Southwest, 71, 93, 254, 255, 257-263, communism or Communist(s); economy

265-268 state-controlie

—in Europe: central, 134, 160-164, 171, Maryan (Vs), ee 190 386; eastern, 86, 90, 134, 162, ashpee (Americans, North),

165-168 171. 386: Mediterranean Massachusetts (U.S.), 10, 142, 143,

72-76, 78, 79, 134, 154-159, 171, 179, nediene 208 ; 386; western, 80, 93, 133, 136, atawaska (Canada), 221

139-154, 171, 179, 386 maternal, 291. See also parental; paternal in Oceania. 223. 225. 228 maternal mortality. See mortality, maternal

; ar a Matlab (Bengal), 318 marriage-age data, women, in Africa: “ sO

central, 242, 268, 269, 283; eastern, me 7 40 BL ea ba 5 ee 2 sf 242, 269, 285, 288, 289: North, 93, » FF, D4, II, OF, ID, I/, 0D, 247, 248: south of Sahara, 56, 239, 69, 82, 100, 104, 117, 121-123, 197,

268-272, 274, 276-278, 280 , ; , 247; southern, 269, 290; western, 242, 780 ae oo oe a a cr oo

—in America: Caribbean, 127, 196; 358

Central, 188, 196; 127, 187,aurilius Mautities (Indien Ocean) 388 269-271 196, 197,127, 204-207, 209,North, 214, 221-223, (indian Ocean), 386 (by socioeconomic status, 205, 207); | Max Havelaar (Dutch novel), 348

South, 127, 187, 188, 190-192, 196 Maya or Mayan, 125, 194 —in Asia: central, 167, 168; East, 109, Mbuti (Africans, central), 36

116, 303, 304, 339, 358, 359, 368, 369, © McCormick, Cyrus, 209 371 (by socioeconomic status, 303, 368, McEvedy, Colin, 35, 48, 105, 233, 234,

369, 371); South, 99, 104, 116, 295, 296, 325, 335

301-303, 313, 314, 324, 325, 331, 332 McGreevey, William Paul, 135 (by religion, 302); Southeast, 50, 117, McLuhan, Marshall, 65

334, 336, 339-344, 346, 347, 350, measles, 9, 12, 79, 106, 107, 182, 224, 353-357; Southwest, 71, 93, 253-255, 229, 337, 387

257-268 Mediterranean peoples, 237, 242. See also

452 INDEX African(s), North; Asian(s), Southwest; China, 298; England, 93; Europe, 209;

European(s), Mediterranean Germany, 209; India, 297, 313,

Mediterranean realm, 11, 31, 47, 48, 317-319, 325, 326; Japan, 367-369; 65-80, 84-86, 94, 100, 135, 184, 233, Latin America, 189, 190; Philippines, 243, 246, 250, 274. See also Africa, 356, 357; Russia, 167; Scotland, 152;

North; Asia, Southwest; Europe, Thailand, 357; U.S., 198, 204-206

Mediterranean — See also emigrant(s) or emigration; Southeast), 118, 344 in-migrant(s) or in-migration;

Mekong River or basin or valley (Asia, immigrant(s) or immigration;

Melbourne (Australia), 227 out-migrant(s) or out-migration;

men, older, household situation, 317, 373; population, receiving; population, sending

roles, 239, 247, 379, 384 migration effect, xi, 173, 315

menarche, 13, 28, 29, 74, 94, 101, 170, Milan (Italy), 83 171; age at, in neolithic foragers, 28, 29 military rule, 190, 270

(in neolithic agriculturalists, 41; in Gainj, millet, 52, 107, 108, 286 41; in !Kung, 28). See also menstruation; Minangkabau (Indonesians), 346, 347, 351,

puberty 352, 358

Mencius (Chinese teacher), 106 Mindanao (Philippines), 354, 357, 358 Mende (Africans, western), 277 mineral(s}, 9, 124, 126, 173. See also

menopause, 170 calcium; diet; iron; malnutrition; nutrition menstruation, 13, 14, 324. See also mineral resources. See resources, mineral amenorrhea; anovulation or anovulatory minifundista(s), 190

cycle(s); fertile cycle(s); menarche mining or mines, 64, 135, 143, 166, 169, merchant(s), 67, 85, 91, 97, 142, 162, 182, 183, 185, 189, 190, 230, 244, 245, 174, 187, 233, 243, 244, 288, 319, 323, 249, 271, 278, 283, 284, 290-294, 297,

352, 361-363, 375 315, 338, 350. See also copper; gold;

Mesopotamia (Asia, Southwest), 39, 40, iron; resources, mineral; silver; tin 43-45, 47-49, 52, 53, 55, 58, 68, 71, Minnesota (U.S.), 213 72, 75, 81, 86, 87, 94, 97, 106, 124, minor marriage. See marriage, minor

236. See also Iraq Mirabeau (France), 144

Mesopotamian(s) (Asians, Southwest), 41, miscarriage(s}, 13, 14, 16-18, 71, 79, 95,

52, 72, 73 103, 104, 150, 283, 285, 312, 331

mestiza(s) or mestizo(s) (Americans, Latin), Mishino (Russia), 166, 167 183, 185-188, 194, 196, 201-203, 224 missionary or missionaries: Buddhist, 101,

methane, 333 118, 119: Christian, 174, 180-184, 198, meti(s) (Canadians), 201, 224 201, 224: Muslim, 118, 119 Mexican(s) (Americans, North), 201 Mississippi (U.S.), 205, 216

Mexican-American(s) (U.S.), 202, 203, 213 Mississippi River or basin or valley

Mexico (America, North), 23, 53, 54, 66, (America, North), 199, 207 93, 124, 125, 127, 128, 179, 181-184, mitosis, 14 186, 190, 193-195, 199, 201-203, 213, Mitra, Asok, 315

233 mobility: geographic, 25, 67, 143, 175,

Mexico City (Mexico), 187, 198 383, 386; social, 356

Michigan (U.S.), ix, 221 mode (advantages of), 225 microcephaly, 15 modified extended family. See family, middle-aged. See adult(s) or adulthood, mid modified extended; household(s), or middle or midlife associative; household(s), cooperating Middle East (Southwest Asia and North Moldavia (Europe, eastern), 167

Africa), 247 monarch(s) or monarchy, 138, 247, 257,

midlife. See adult(s) or adulthood, mid or 260, 263, 266, 267, 339, 367. See also

middle or midlife emperor(s); royal or royalty; shah

migration, 8, 9, 23, 142, 155, 161, 189, monastery or monasteries, 83-85, 87, 92,

190, 203, 230-232, 256, 286 109, 110, 117, 119, 297, 324, 330

—causes, 23, 24; cyclical, 24, 25, 177, monastic institution(s). See monastery or 190, 292. forced, 23, 50, 198, 253, 288, monasteries; nunnery or nunneries 289; permanent, 23-25, 177, 194, 319; Mongol(s) (Asians, central}, 94, 106, 297, seasonal, 24, 25, 167, 194, 195, 274, 319 330 —within Bangladesh, 318; Canada, 220; Mongolia (Asia, central, 297, 330

INDEX 453 monogamous or monogamy, 18, 20, 21, 218; in Australia, 170, 226, 227; in 30, 32, 33, 35, 39, 44, 46, 48, 71-74, Nauru, 230; in New Zealand, 225 92, 94, 102-104, 110, 117, 118, 183, —maternal, 17, 42, 103, 104, 160 211, 227, 236, 239, 251, 254, 268, 278, —midlife, 59, 70, 126, 271, 306 279, 282, 285, 288, 292, 300, 301, 326, mortality crisis, 355 328, 380; conditions favoring, 20, 29, mortality differences, 212, 225; by region,

30, 32, 236, 251, 301 192, 206, 288; by religion, 313; by

monopolistic or monopoly, 135, 167 socioeconomic status, 215, 313; by urban monopsonistic or monopsony, 135, 167 versus rural, 12, 25, 139, 153, 160, 163,

Montana (U.S.), 198 172, 188, 191, 192, 206, 208, 209, 278, Montplaisant (France), 144 313, 340, 346, 350, 353, 356

Mormon(s) (Americans, North), 211 mortality level(s) or rate(s), 20, 41, 215, Morocco (Africa, North), 5, 67, 81, 94, 360. See also death rate(s); deaths; 102, 124, 237, 243, 247, 252, 260-262, mortality, all subheadings

264, 266 Moscow (Russia), 63, 64, 167, 375

mortality: adolescent, 3, 12 Moses (prophet of Judaism), 92

119g | : 1 malaria

—adult. 3. 12. 141. 209. 248 299 mosquitoes, 117, 231, 309, 349. See also 172 188 208 212, 267,279. 287, 330. Mossi (Africans, western), 237, 272, 274

355, 359, 383 mother(s), 8, 33, 36-38, 68, 74, 77, 86, —decrease, 139, 140, 145, 146, 205, 207, FA a Oo oe ee ee ob 211, 256, 295, 318, 336, 339, 377, 383 986, 990 991. 307, 391, 399, 35]. 359, —early (months 1-60), 26, 29, 47, 59, 70, 370), 379 379 389. inlaw i11 314 ,

126, 142, 145, 248, 271, 333, S , I be. 286-288, 306, 331,218, 332 . 238, See also motherhood or mothering

—epidemic-driven, 6, 148, 166, 231 mo tperood Se mothering, ae 270, 379, —female (high), 103, 169, 170; in Mozambique (Africa, southern) 55, 249

Australia, 170, 226, 227; in Belgium, 950. 290. 291 , aon , 149; in China, 309-312; in Egypt, 262, mucus cervical 13

265, 266, 307, 308; in Germany, 149; in Muhammad (prophet of Islam), 94, 268

India, 294, 299, 306-309, 312, 315; in latta(s) or mulatto(s) | Ameri n. Latin)

Iran, 258, 259; in Jordan, 262; in Nepal, » 18d 186-188. 196. 224 ieans, 332; in Sri Lanka, 308, 309; in Sweden, multiple family. See family, multiple

ton in vans oe 268; in U.S., 149, multiple household. See household, multiple

gh Te 9,14, 151,155, Mult, 84, 8,58, 9496,° toe 300 doe AO 227, 288, 249, 243, 244, 247, 248, 250, 252, 253, 256,

, 266-268, 279, 282, 286, 287, 289,

Tinian “ones face Ba 0 384 o 300-302, 305, 308, 309, 312-316, 324, Africa, central, 283 (eastern, 287, 288; 37, Seg 377 ae an ae aia ooo, North, 307, 308; southern, 293: western, Islamic 276-279, 281, 282); in America, Mussolini, Benito (Fascist leader), 158 Central, 188, 191, 192 (North, 126, Myanmar (Asia, Southeast), 336, 343, 385.

197, 198, 202, 208, 211, 216, 221, 294. See also Burma. |

South, 188, 190, 192); in Asia, East, Mysore (India), 299, 312, 325. See also

309-312, 360, 371 (South, 307-309, Karnataka 312, 313, 330-332; Southeast, 341,

342, 344, 346, 350, 353, 355, 356; Nagano (Japan), 363

Southwest, 256-258, 262, 264-268); in Nagasaki (Japan), 364 Europe, 171, 172 (central, 160, 102, Nagoya (Japan), 369 103, 171; eastern, 164, 166, 168, 169, Nakahara (Japan), 367, 368, 370 171; Mediterranean, 78, 155, 158, 171; Namibia (Africa, southern), 290 western, 42, 137, 141, 146, 148-151, Nantes (France), 376 153, 160, 164, 169, 171); in Oceania, Napoleonic code, 344

226, 227 Napoleonic wars (A.D. 1798-1815), 346

—male (high), 29, 103, 169, 170, 216, Natal (South Africa), 23

454 INDEX nation-state. See government(s) New Zealand (Oceania), 5, 6, 25, 38, 176, native American(s). See American(s), 223-225, 228-230, 234, 293, 378, 385,

indigenous 386; settlers, 223-225, 229. See also Maori

Nauru (Oceania), 230, 231 newborn(s). See infancy or infantis) Navaho (Americans, North), 196-198, 226 Ngoni (Africans, eastern), 289

navy or navies, 174 Nicollet County (Minnesota), 213 Nazi(s) (Germany), 160, 257 niece(s), 76, 92, 206

Neanderthal(s). See Homo sapiens Niger (Africa, western), 269, 271-273

neanderthalis Niger River or basin or valley, 55, 58, 66, Nedertornea (Sweden), 149 121, 235, 270

needs, basic (food, shelter, clothing). See Nigeria or Nigerian (Africa, western), 23,

family goals; care, basic needs 43, 55, 57, 122, 194, 241, 250, 251,

needs, psychological. See family goals 269, 275, 280-282

Negev Bedouin. See Bedouin, Negev Nile River or basin or valley, 48, 52, 53,

neglect, 334 55, 58, 66, 69, 71, 121, 241, 252, 286 —of females, 83, 87, 92, 103, 127; in Nishijo (Japan), 368-370 America, North, 206, 208; in Asia, East, Nishikata (Japan), 370

110, 113, 117, 310, 328 (South, 104, Nishinomiya (Japan), 368 305, 307, 308, 315; Southwest, 307, nobility or noble(s), 88, 90, 114-116, 122, 308); in Europe, western, 147, 149 156, 184, 271, 363. See also aristocracy —of very young, 145; in Germany, 160; in or aristocrat(s); lord(s) or lordship Guatemala, 191; in Latin America, 191, nomad(s) or nomadism, 67, 69, 270, 271,

192 285, 286, 297, 319. See also herder(s)

—selective, 305, 307, 308, 310, 319, 328, or herding; pastoralist(s) or pastoralism;

333, 363, 365, 368 tent group(s); transhumance

—See also female disadvantage; Norman(s) (Europeans, western), 136 footbinding; infant-risking practices; Normandy (France), 145

malnutrition Norse. See Norwegian(s)

neighborhood(s), 137, 174, 253, 379. See North Atlantic Treaty Organization, 256

also community or communities North Carolina (U.S.}, 216, 219

neolithic, 29; agricultural, 41, 68, 71; North Sea (Atlantic Ocean), 152

foraging, 29 North-West Frontier Province (Asia, South),

neolocal or neolocality, 19, 26, 133, 134, 299 136, 138, 144, 280, 304, 343 Norway (Europe, western), 132, 151, 152, Nepal (Asia, South), 103, 270, 296, 297, 154, 160, 228, 385 299-302, 312, 313, 315, 324, 330-334 Norwegian(s), 38, 152, 170

nephew(s), 68, 69, 92, 206, 328 Nottinghamshire (England), 144 Netherlands (Europe, western), 132, 135, Nova Scotia (Canada), 221, 222 147, 148, 160, 185, 198, 224, 335, 336, | Ntomba (Africans, central), 283

348, 383 nuclear family. See family, nuclear

Netherlands Antilles (Caribbean), 184, 385 nuclear household. See household, nuclear

Netsilik. See Inuit, Netsilik nuclear power. See power, nuclear

networks: support, 20, 21, 36, 38, 68, 83, nuclear war. See warfare, nuclear

111, 144, 227, 238, 240, 318, 322; nuclear weaponry. See weaponry, nuclear

trade, 323 Nukuoro (Oceania), 230

New Brunswick (Canada), 221, 222 Numa (Japan), 370

New Christians. See Christians, New Nunamiut. See Inuit, Nunamiut New England (U.S.), 149, 199, 203-208, nunnery or nunneries, 31, 72, 83, 84, 87,

212, 216, 226. See also Maine; 92, 102, 103, 109, 110, 117, 187 Massachusetts; Rhode Island; United Nupe (Africans, western), 250, 282

States, northeastern nursing. See lactation

New Guinea (Oceania), 7, 8, 10, 13, 50, nurturance or nurture, 27. See also care, of 51, 102, 230. See also Papua New Guinea young; education; family goals; schooling

New Jersey (U.S.), 203 nutrition, 10, 13, 19, 68, 108. See also New Mexico (U.S.), 126, 197 diet; malnutrition

New South Wales (Australia), 227 nutritional deficiency, 9, 10, 12, 13, 151, New York (U.S.): city, 63, 220, 375, 276; 216. See also anemia; beriberi; diet; colony and state, 199, 203, 207, 210 kwashiorkor; malnutrition; nutrition

INDEX 455 Nyasaland. See Malawi Pacific islanders, 22, 32, 131, 223, 229-232 Nzakara (Africans, central), 283 Pacific islands, 8, 9, 22, 25, 34, 51, 134, 224, 372. See also Oceania

oats, 9, 50, 152 Pacific Ocean, 22, 42, 108, 198

Oaxaca (Mexico), 186 paddy. See rice, wet-field or paddy Occupation (of Japan by U.S., ap. pagan(s), 123

1945-51), 373 pair-bonding, 27, 29

Oceania, 6. See also Australia; New Pakistan (Asia, South), 131, 289, 296, Guinea; New Zealand; Pacific islands 297, 299, 300-302, 305, 306, 308, 312, offering, of children (to monasteries or 314, 315, 318, 322, 324, 325, 352

nunneries), 83, 87, 92, 138 Palestine (Asia, Southwest), 67, 87, 88, official records. See records, official 112, 243 offspring, 56, 70, 86, 91, 106, 115, 118, Palestinian(s) (Asians, Southwest), 247,

120, 133, 144, 237, 244, 273, 334, 374, 264, 267 382. See also child or children; palimony, 381. See also partnerships,

grandchild or grandchildren; recreative

great-grandchild or great-grandchildren Panama (America, Central), 23, 180, 192, Ohio (U.S.), 207, 221 193

oil, 152, 247, 257, 264, 297 papacy (Roman Catholic leadership), 64,

Ojibway (Americans, North), 197 376, 388

Okayama (Japan), 364-366, 368, 370 Papua New Guinea (Oceania), 41. See also

Okiek (Africans, eastern), 122, 123 New Guinea

Old Crow (Americans, North), 127, 200, Paraguay (America, South), 28, 40

201. See also Kutchin parent(s}, 8, 19, 22, 35, 37, 38, 44, 46,

Omaha kinship terminology. See kinship 50, 53, 54, 56, 57, 70, 75, 82, 83, 85,

terminology, Omaha 86, 91, 99-101, 106, 110, 111, 115,

Oman (Asia, Southwest), 235, 261, 263 116, 133, 134, 137, 141, 147, 158, 164, one-child policy. See China, one-child policy 166, 169, 172, 189, 192, 193, 207, 214,

Oneida County (New York), 207 215, 218, 240, 248, 264, 273, 294, 301,

Ontario (Canada), 221, 222 314, 322, 324, 325, 328-330, 334, 342,

Oppong, Christine, 249 343, 347, 353, 356, 363, 367-369,

order, maintenance of, 109, 112. See also 372-374, 378, 379, 381, 382. See also

army or armies father(s); mother(s)

Orthodox paternal

Orthodox Christianity. See Christianity, parental, 136, 280, 293. See also maternal:

Orissa (India), 302, 306, 312 parental duty (to provide for children), 83 orphan(s), 137, 169, 285, 382 parenthood, 379, 381, 382. See also Osaka (Japan), 63, 363, 367, 368 fatherhood; motherhood or mothering

Ottawa (Canada), 376 parenting, flexible, 56, 57. See also Ottoman(s). See Turk(s), Ottoman; Turkey, adoption; kinship, fictive

Ottoman Paris (France), 63, 275, 375, 376

Ouro Preto (Brazil), 188 parish records. See records, parish outer islands (Indonesia), 345. See also park(s) or park systems, 132 Bali; Kalimantan; Lombok; Sulawesi; Parma (Italy), 158, 159

Sumatra Parrel (Mexico), 186

out-migrant(s) or out-migration, 173, 204, partner circulation, 123, 284. See also

205, 283, 284. See also migration spouse circulation

overlaying, 172. See also sudden infant partner self-choice, 26, 133, 134, 229, 338,

death syndrome 339, 353, 372, 377. See also marriage,

overlord(s), 86, 87, 113-115, 161, 163, arranged

164, 221, 236, 238, 240, 273, 297, 377 partnerships, 380-382; incorporation, 381,

overshooting, 93, 122, 124 382; procreative, 380-382; recreative,

ovum or ova, 13, 14, 379, 380. See also 380-382, 384. See also incorporation;

processes, generative, female marriage, privileged institution; union, ox(en), 52 consensual ozone, 378 pastoralist(s) or pastoralism, 39, 47, 52,

54, 55, 57-59, 67, 69, 85, 94, 97, 100,

Pabna (Bangladesh), 326 106, 120-125, 137, 197, 198, 236, 239,

456 INDEX 240, 263, 270-272, 275, 285, 286, 288, plague, 65, 79, 84, 99, 106, 120, 138, 289, 297, 319, 320; mounted, 64, 66, 158, 308, 337, 349, 375; bubonic, 10,

106, 198, 236. See also herder(s) or 11, 182, 345; pneumonic, 345 herding; nomad(s) or nomadism; tent plantation(s), 135, 239, 345

group(s); transhumance —in Africa: central, 278, 283, 284: south

paternal, 138, 139. See also father(s); of Sahara, 249; southern, 290, 291:

fatherhood; maternal; mother(s); western, 274, 278

motherhood or mothering; paternal —in America: Caribbean, 182, 183, 185, pathogen(s), 9-12, 16-20, 41, 55, 98, 186, 189, 193, 194, 206; Central, 182, 108, 239, 241, 300, 315, 321. See also 183, 185, 186, 189; North, 217; South, bacteria; disease, contagious or infectious; 182, 183, 185, 186, 188, 189

virus(es) a —in Asia: South, 309; Southeast, 343,

patriarchal, 138, 258. See also patrilineal 348-350

or patrilineality —in Oceania, 229

patrician(s), 76-79 . plebeian(s), 76-79

patrilineal or patrilineality, 33, 37-39, Pliny (classical Roman scientist), 78 44-51, 93, 54, 56, 97, 68-70, 74, 82, plow agriculture. See agriculture, plow 83, 90, 91, 99, 100, 106, 108, 109, Plymouth (Massachusetts), 203, 204

112, 115, 121-124, 127, 197, 237, 238, ; , pneumonic plague. See plague, pneumonic

245, 249, 258, 274, 289, 291, 305, 337,

338 344. 345 351. 358 S ; Poland (Europe, eastern), 89, 132, 140,

catrarchal ce also 162, 165, 169, 170, 385

patron(s), 67, 70, 102. See also client(s): vote 387 Polish (Europeans, eastern), 173

patron-client system(s) Polish-American(s) (United States), 209, 213 patron-client system(s), 66. See also ” . political system(s), large-scale, 11. See also

client(s); patron(s) governments)

108, 113, 152, 157, 161, 221, 271,142, 297,145, 316,149, 329, 348, 349,

peasant(s) or peasantry, 64-71, 91, 93, 94, pollutant(s) or pollution, 10, 26, 132, 133, 220, 311, 338; bacterial, 334; chemical, 10, 65, 190, 333, 334, 338; environ-

361-364, 367, 370, 387. See also tal 4. 132. 176.177. 338. 376-

peon(s) or peonage; serf(s) or serfdom ti o, i 10 65 132 136 148 169

Pecos Pueblo (America, North), 126, 127 338. See ; , th ‘ , , ,

penile incisions, 32, 49. See also generative ; 4 Ce also mn ha 39. 56) 57 103 organ; initiation, pubertal, male polyancrous OF polyanary, 27, OV, of, —s

; 110,(U.S.), 111,203, 230, conditions favoring, Pennsylvania 205278; 29. 103: serial 57: in Himal 1

pension(s), 22, 26, 162, 381, 384: private, , 103; serial, 97; in Himalayas, 103,

22, 26, 136, 175-177, 374, 383: public. ee aoa 103, 331-333; in 22, 26, 136, 175-177, 374, 383. S Hoel,

also SS-PE-ES system ee polygynist(s) or polygynous or polygyny, peon(s) or peonage, 182, 187, 189 18-20, 30, 32, 39, 46, 47, 49, o2, 71, People’s Republic of China. See China, 93, 103, 111, 127, 168, 188; conditions

People’s Republic favoring, 20, 29, 30, 239; gerontocratic,

Persian Gulf (Asia, Southwest), 24, 72, 31, 91, 239, 240; mild (not more than

261-264 10%-15% of husbands polygynists), 93,

Peru (America, South), 80, 125, 127, 128, 94; in Africa, central, 242, 244, 268,

179, 185, 192-194, 224 269, 274, 280, 282, 284 (eastern, 242,

Peul (Africans, western), 250; Bande, 276. 244, 269, 283, 285, 287-289, 292;

See also Fulani: Fulbe North, 21, 70, 72, 93-95, 134, 237,

Philippine Chinese (Asians, Southeast), 247, 251, 260-268; south of Sahara, 57,

354, 358 58, 120, 122-124, 134, 236, 237,

Philippines (Asia, Southeast), 23, 119, 120, 239-241, 247, 251, 268-270, 303; 265, 335-337, 339, 343, 346, 354-358. southern, 244, 245, 269, 290, 291;

See also Filipina(s) or Filipino(s) western, 18, 19, 23, 88, 237, 242, 244,

Piedmont (Italy), 158 268-270, 274, 276-282, 292, 368): in pig(s), 49, 50, 52, 352 America, North, 183, 197, 200, 211; in pill. See contraceptive(s), oral Asia, central, 168 (South, 70, 102, 300,

Pisa (Italy), 158 303, 316, 326; Southeast, 50, 117-119, Place, Francis (in England), 140 348; Southwest, 21, 70, 72, 93-95, 134.

INDEX 457 237, 247, 251, 253, 254, 256-263, —pressure, 30, 32, 35, 39-44, 48-54, 68,

265-268); in Oceania, 51 69, 72, 82, 87-89, 109, 125-128,

poor, the, 112, 116, 139, 146, 157, 148-150, 190, 221, 241, 266, 276, 319,

158, 164, 169, 256, 328. See also 331-333, 344

poverty —rate of increase, 28, 35, 39, 40, 43, 44,

Poor Laws (av. 1601), 133, 137-139, 174; 48, 68, 69, 72, 88, 93, 114, 116, 117, New (4.0. 1834), 137, 138, 168, 169. 131, 132, 173, 195, 196, 239, 322, 325,

See also workhouse(s) 340, 343-345, 348, 355, 358, 360, 364, population, closed, 22 375 |

—comparisons at specified times, 81, 375 —receiving, 24, 25 (in 3000 Bc. to 400 Bc, 52, 81, 82; in —registers, 105, 113, 117 AD. 0 to 600, 81; in av. 1000 to 1500, —sending, 24, 25

87, 89, 105, 131, 135, 233, 234, 335; —stable, 7, 25 in aD. 1600 to 1700, 234, 235; in ap. —stationary, 7, 8, 25 1750 to 1850, 131, 136, 234, 335, 336: pork, 98, 216, 352 in aD. 1900 to 1975, 131, 136, 234, Portugal (Europe, Mediterranean), 81, 85,

336; recent, 337) 89, 132, 134, 135, 154-156, 159, 187,

—decline or decrease, 7, 18, 26, 30, 83, 244, 249, 275, 277, 290, 291, 335, 336 88, 176, 177, 311, 378, 388 (in Africa, Portuguese (Europeans, Mediterranean), 12,

central, 241, 250; eastern, 287, 288; 36.53. 155. 180. 182-189. 234. 235 Sahara, 234, 251; southern, 290, 292: 241-245, 200, 330, 392 western 241 250 271 282): in ) potato(es), 93, 125, 152, 153, 162

North, 80, 81, 87, 88, 251; south of . oF ,

Americas, 127, 128, 179-184, 251: in potiatch. See prestation | America, Caribbean, 180, 182, 183 Nonny fiver orth), or basin or valley (America, 180.188 197, 199, 201: South 179 poverty, 17, 18, 76, 79, 83, 87, 137, 140,

182, 183): in Asia, East, 106, 297, 358 573 aoe 380 boo an ee 251,

(South, 88, 296; Southwest, 81, 87, 88, Las. , 106, 246, 251, 252, 254): In Europe, distribution; poor, the; stress, economic central, 88, 106, 160, 377 (eastern, 88, or soctosconomir

106, 377: Mediterranean, 25, 80, 81, 88, Powell, Enoch (in England), 177

106, 157; western, 88, 106, 132, 138, Power, nuclear, 533 147, 153, 378); in Oceania, 224-227, 230 power of embarrassment. See embarrass-

—dense, 52, 53, 82, 90, 105-109, 118, 157 ment, power of

—density, 48, 104, 107, 124, 132 power, purchasing, 135. See also —growth or increase, 28, 30, 32, 35, monopolistic or monopoly; monopsonistic

39-44, 80, 81, 84, 101, 136, 177; in or monopsony

Africa, 195, 234, 250, 296, 330 (North, Power, upper-body (human physical). See

248, 268; south of Sahara, 241, 248; strength, upper-body power southern, 290; western, 282): in pregnancy or pregnant, 12, 14-16, 18, 20, America, Caribbean, 190, 220 (Central, 27, 40, 104, 110, 122, 150, 158, 191, 125, 220: Latin, 190, 195, 220, 223, 216, 251, 274, 283, 285, 311, 386. See 224, 296: North, 124, 125, 197, 201, also gestation; processes, generative, female

- , . See also births, nonmarita

215-217, 220, 221, 223, 224; South, Pregnancs: nonmarita’ 87, 8 _ 325, 007, 508 390, 343, 336 338, 368, 360. prejudice, 361. See also discrimination

364, 371, 372; South, 295-297, 322, prestation, 33 331, 333, 336; Southeast, 335-338, priest(s) or priesthood, 43, 52, 97, 98, 340, 343-345, 348-350, 352, 355, 356; 103, 113 Southwest, 248, 252): in Europe, central, prime. See adult(s) or adulthood, early to mid

160, 162, 171 (eastern, 165, 168, 171; primogeniture, 363. See also inheritance Mediterranean, 25, 84, 90, 92, 132, 157, _ printing press, 65, 246, 376 158, 171; non-Mediterranean, 80, 84, 87, | processes, generative, 13; female, 13-17;

90, 92, 132, 171; western, 88, 133, male, 13. See also birth-giving; birth 138-142, 144, 146, 151-154, 171); in process; embryo; fertilization; fetal or

Oceania, 225, 230 fetus(es); generative organ; gestation;

—in equilibrium, 7, 25, 41, 94 implantation; ovum or ova; sperm;

458 INDEX pregnancy; reproduction; reproductive Qatar (Asia, Southwest), 261, 262

processes Quaker(s) (U.S.), 205

procreation. See processes, generative quarantine, 65, 99, 136, 140, 158, 320.

productivity, 377 See also antiepidemic measures; cordon

proletarian(s). See wage worker(s) sanitaire

propertied or propertyholder(s), 137-143. Quebec (Canada), 199 See also landholder(s); propertyless; Queensland (Australia), 227

unpropertied; wealthy, the quinoa, 125

propertyless, 137-142, 146; urban, 139. quota system. See culture system See also landless; poor, the; propertied;

unpropertied railroad(s), 4, 63, 222, 297, 313, 333, 375

proportions at various ages, 4-6, 8, 26, 35; rain-fed. See agriculture, rain-fed

in neolithic foragers, 4; in neolithic rainforest, 36, 54, 55, 183, 186, 338 agriculturalists, 4; in Africa, eastern, 385 Rajasthan (India), 312, 324 (Southern, 385); in America, Caribbean, Rajput(s) (Asians, South), 308

206, 207, 385 (Central, 385; North, rank(s), 45

197, 199, 206, 374, 385; South, 385); rape. See intercourse, forced in Asia, East, 326, 328, 365, 373, 374, ratio, favorable, 21, 26, 39, 57, 59, 94, 385 (South, 318, 326, 385; Southeast, 166, 174-177, 317, 327, 365, 373, 377. 385; Southwest, 385); in Europe, central, See also family goals 385 (eastern, 385; Mediterranean, 26, ratio, of actives to dependents, 21, 26, 39, 385; western, 89, 385); in Oceania, 226, 42, 44, 57, 59, 100, 103, 290, 317, 385. See also dependency ratio; ratio, 327, 344, 373. See also dependency ratio favorable; ratio of actives to dependents ratio, sex, 16, 44, 80, 82; adults, 86, 87; at

protection, environmental, 376, 378 birth, 57; affected by stress, 16; in Africa,

protectorate(s), 251, 252 central, 242, 250, 283, 284 (North, 247, protein, 9, 19, 20, 27-29, 41, 50, 52, 53, 295; south of Sahara, 247, 295: 56, 93, 117, 124, 125, 270, 342. See southern, 290, 292; western, 274); in

also diet; malnutrition; nutrition America, Caribbean, 183-185, 194

Protestantism. See Christianity, Protestant (Central, 183-185; Latin, 295; North, protoindustrialization, 141, 142, 367, 377. 181, 202, 204, 206-208, 210, 211, 217,

See also cottage industry; cottage 218, 295; South, 183-185, 188); in worker(s); putting-out system Asia, East, 295, 298-300, 308, 310, Providence (Rhode Island), 210 311, 328, 370 (South, 295, 298-300,

Prussia (Germany), 161 305-307, 313, 314, 324; Southeast, psychological needs. See family goals 295, 344; Southwest, 247, 295); in puberty, 13, 31, 50, 81, 82, 239, 258, Europe, 295 (eastern, 167, 168,

303. See also beard growth; circumcision; Mediterranean, 154-157: western, 152,

clitoridectomy; initiation, pubertal; 154, 211); in Oceania, 226 menarche; voice, breaking real wages. See wages or wage income, real

public aid. See system, social welfare, reconstitution(s), 143, 148; potential

governmental institutional inaccuracies, 142, 143

public education. See education, public records: official, 113, 116, 362, 364, 366, public health services. See health services, 367; parish, 89, 148, 355; written, 117

public recreation or recreative, 132. See also

public sanitation. See sanitation, public partnership(s), recreative

Puddletown (England), 144 reforestation, 132

Puerto Rican(s): in Puerto Rico, 195; in reformer(s), Christian, 92; Islamic or

U.S., 202, 203, 213 Muslim, 246, 247, 280

Puerto Rico (Caribbean), 199, 385 refrigeration or refrigerator(s), 4:

pumping system(s), 3, 4. See also sewage solar-powered, 387 removal; water supply; wells, pumped registers, baptismal, 193, 376. See also

Punjab (India), 306-308, 323, 324 record(s), parish

purchasing power. See power, purchasing religious charitable foundations: Christian, putting-out system, 141, 142, 162. See also 157, 158, 172, 185, 193, 383; Islamic or cottage industry; protoindustrialization Muslim, 113, 256, 258. See also system, Pyrenees mountains (Europe), 48, 71, 80, social welfare, religious institutional

81, 84, 132, 161, 200 remarriage(s), 204, 218, 225, 229, 239,

INDEX 459 240, 254, 260-263, 266, 270, 274, 282, _—road-building, 64, 109, 132, 249, 250, 271,

283, 285, 327, 332, 347, 366, 378; 313

divorcee(s), 215, 240, 265, 274, 284, Rognonas (France), 144 301, 327, 338, 347; widow(s), 20, 21, Roman or Koman Catholic Christianity. See 87, 88, 102, 104, 109, 110, 117, 118, Christianity, Roman Catholic. 145, 211, 237, 240, 265, 274, 277, 300, | Roman empire (Mediterranean realm),

301, 316, 327, 333, 338, 347, 366; 75-84, 123, 125; eastern, 79-81, 94, widower(s), 87, 88, 118, 145, 148, 301, 107, 111, 252 (see also Byzantine);

366 western, 79-81, 83, 84, 106, 111, 233 rent(s) or renter(s), 205, 207. See also Rome or Roman (Italy), 64, 375, 376; landlord(s); landholder(s), large; tenant(s) classical or imperial, 8, 13, 71, 72,

rent-a-womb, 379. See also gestation, 75-84, 86, 92, 93, 95, 106, 234

surrogate Rongphug (Nepal), 331-333

replacement, social, 8, 17, 20, 21, 72, 76, root crop(s), 50, 51, 53-55, 123, 125. See 78, 143, 150, 162, 176, 182, 183, 188, also cassava; potato(es); yam(s)

193, 198, 200, 238, 320, 355, 377 Rothman, Barbara May 5091 99 108

reproduction, 141. See also birth-giving; Toya" OF Yoyany, 20, 09, 2, 74, 77; birth process; childbearing; gestation; mnorarch(s) or monarchy. 346. See also processes, generative; reproductive

. Ruggles, Steven, 166

system, female; technology, reproductive rubber, 242, 249, 272, 278, 350

reproductive span, 28, 29, 41, 69, 71, 79, ruler(s), 65-67, 105, 109, 118-121, 124

Se ge 200: 279, SAS, 346, 125, 157, 171, 174, 230, 235, 236, 239,

er 243, 245, 246, 249, 275, 336, 339, 359,

reproductive system, female, 14—17, 20, 375, See also elite(s): leader(s) 170, 274. See also mucus, cervical; Rumania (Europe eastern) 167 processes, generative, female; uterine or rural. 108 130. 139 140 ‘1 48 152

uterus 161-163, 167, 172, 209, 256, 262, 264,

reproductive technology. See technology, 276-278. 281. 284 302. 312. 313. 320

reproductive oe 321, 326, 329, 331, 341-343, 347,

Republic of China. See China, Taiwan 350-353. 356-360. 362. 364. 369. 371

resources, mineral, 376 373. See also urban; village(s); villager(s) restoration, environmental, 376, 378, 388 Russia (Europe, eastern), 105, 106, 162 retinitis pigmentosa, 23 165-169, 171, 173, 246, 252, 253, 257; retirement, 365, 374. See also contract, Asiatic (Asia, central and northern), retirement; pension(s); SS__PE_ES 165-169, 330; European (Europe,

system; Third Age eastern), 133, 167-169. See also Soviet Reunion (Indian Ocean), 385 Union Rh factor, 15, 56 Russian(s) (Europeans, eastern), 150,

147, 159 Soviet(s)

Rhine River or basin or valley (Europe), 165-169, 252, 297, 330, 359. See also

Rhode Island (U.S.), 206, 210 Russian-American(s) (U.S.), 213

Rhodesia, Northern and Southern. See Ruzicka, Lado, 383

Zambia; Zimbabwe Rwanda, (Africa, central), 236, 239, 247, 269

Riazan (Russia), 167 rye, 9, 10, 50 rice, 9, 49-53, 86, 104, 107, 108, 113,

114, 125, 305, 306, 310, 342, 349; Saba (Netherlands Antilles), 194 wet-field or paddy, 52, 53, 306, 333, 345 Sabah (Malaysia, East), 354 )

riceland, 344, 349 sacrifice, human, 125-128 Richmond (Virginia), 220 | Saguenay (Quebec), 221

Rimaibe (Africans, western), 236 Sahara(n) (Africa), 67, 124, 233, 237,

rinderpest, 292, 355 241-243, 252: western, 383

Rio de Janeiro (America, South), 195 Sahel (Africa), 236, 237, 269 Rio de la Plata (America, South), 179, St. Lawrence River or basin or valley

180, 183 (America, North), 221

Rio Grande (America, North), 179, 180, St. Lucia (Caribbean), 384, 385

182, 183, 196, 224 St. Petersburg (Russia), 168, 172. See also

risk aversion, 67, 124 Leningrad

460 INDEX

salinization, 97 Serbia (Europe, eastern), 166, 172 Samoa (Oceania), 230 Serer (Africans, western), 250, 276

Samoan(s) (Pacific islanders), 12 serf(s) or serfdom, 25, 84, 86, 164-167,

San Antonio (Texas), 202 238. See also semifree status; slave(s) or

Sanchez Albornoz, Nicolas, 179 slavery

sanitation, public, 99, 132, 136, 140, 190, servant(s), 91, 134, 157, 187, 369, 370.

211, 248, 293, 339, 349, 355, 375 See also bondservant(s); life-cycle

Santa Fe (Argentina), 191 servant(hood)

Sao Paolo (Brazil), 185, 192, 195, 196 services, required. See labor demands; labor

Sarawak (Malaysia, East), 354 duty; seigneurial system; semifree status;

Sarpilis (Hungary), 164 serf(s) or serfdom satellite(s), 65, 379 sewage removal, 3, 4, 264 Saudi Arabia (Asia, Southwest), 234, 240, sex ratio. See ratio, sex

261-263 sex roles. See gender role(s)

374 arrangements

saving, for later years, 175, 207, 341, 373, sexes, separate sleeping. See sleeping

Savoy (Italy), 158 Seychelles (Indian Ocean), 239

Saxony (Germany), 161, 162 shadow household. See household, shadow

Scandinavia (Europe, western), 89, 91, shah (in Iran), 257-260 133, 148-152, 171, 336. See also Shandong (China), 295, 299, 304, 305 Denmark; Finland; Norway; Sweden shantytown, 190, 255 Scandinavian(s) (Europeans, western), 12, sharecropper(s), 145, 146, 154, 158, 159,

13. See also Dane(s) or Danish; Finn(s) 166, 218, 219, 236, 256, 367, 377 or Finnish; Norwegian(s); Swede(s) or Shatt-al-Arab (Asia, Southwest), 39

Swedish; Viking(s) sheep, 136, 137, 142, 152

schooling, 134, 140, 141, 146, 217, 281, Shelburne (Massachusetts), 208 292, 308, 311, 323, 343, 383. See also shellfish, 54, 98, 124, 127

education; literacy Shepshed (England), 136, 141, 142

Scot(s) or Scottish (Europeans, western), Shihpur (Bangladesh), 326

12, 38, 152, 153, 158, 221 Shimoyuda (Japan), 364, 365.

Scotland (Europe, western), 11, 89, 132, Shinto (indigenous religion in Japan),

151-153, 158, 170, 173, 221, 223, 225 114-116 Scottish-Canadian(s), 221, 222 short-fallow, 40, 41, 43, 44, 48, 49, 51-53,

sedentary, 67 58, 113, 123

segregation. See discrimination; South Siam (Asia, Southeast), 339, 340. See also

Africa, segregation Thailand

seigneurial system (in Canada), 221 Siberia (Asia), 108 self-choice of partner(s). See partner sibling(s), 34, 37, 38, 46, 57, 91, 155,

self-choice 156, 206, 248, 278, 284, 314, 317, 325,

self-control, 118, 120. See also self-discipline 343, 349, 378, 382. See also brother(s);

self-discipline, 101, 108, 116, 119, 340. sister(s)

See also self-control Sichuan (China), 295, 297, 298, 300, 319, self-reliance, 119 328-330 self-selection, of partner(s). See partner Sicily (Italy), 159

self-choice sickle-cell blood trait, 56, 57, 216, 300

male; sperm 277, 278

semen, 148. See also processes, generative, Sierra Leone (Africa, western}, 80, 275,

semifree status, 236, 239, 250, 275. See Sikh(s) (indigenous religion in India), 302, also bondservant(s); peon(s) or peonage; 305, 313, 326

serf(s) or serfdom silk, 85, 135, 362

Seneca (Americans, North), 197 silver, 182, 185. See also bullion Senegal (Africa, western), 123, 241-243, Singapore (Asia, Southeast), 222, 354, 385

250, 268, 275-277, 282, 283 singulate mean marriage age. See marriage

Senegal River or basin or valley (Africa, ages, singulate mean

western), 121 Sinhalese (Asians, South), 309, 324, 325, 330

separation, marital, permanent, 325; sister(s), 37, 38, 43, 51, 57, 68, 77, 96,

temporary, 19, 23, 74, 239, 286, 112, 277, 289-291, 305, 316, 319. See

289-291, 324, 331-333 also sibling(s)

INDEX 461 sister(s)-in-law, 100 316, 318, 321, 322, 328-330, 333, 334,

Sisya (Philippines), 356, 357 360-363, 367, 369, 370, 372

slash-and-burn. See swidden son(s)-in-law, 91, 134, 253, 312, 362 slaughter, 181, 182, 189, 199, 225-227, son preference, 383; in Bangladesh, 306; in 336, 344. See also conquest(s); invasion(s) China, 306, 311, 312, 334; in India, Slav(s) or Slavic (Europeans, eastern), 82, 306; in Korea, 334, 358, 360; in Nepal,

84-86, 91 331, 332; in Pakistan, 306

slave(s) or slavery, 52, 70, 84, 224, 229; South Africa (Africa, southern), 5, 6, 55, female, 70, 94, 216, 235, 242, 244 275, 244, 245, 249-251, 283, 289-294. 282; male, 235, 241; in classical Greece, segregation, 292-294 73-75, 272; in classical Rome, 76-80, South African(s) (Africans, southern), 245 86, 272; in Africa, North, 124, 245, 246, South Australia (Australian state), 227

251 (south of Sahara, 58, 121, 123, South Carolina (U.S.), 207, 216, 220 124, 235, 236, 238-247, 249, 251, Soviet(s) (citizens of former Soviet Union),

272-277, 280, 282, 284, 289, 290, 388

292): in America, North, 182, 203, 206, Soviet Union (Europe, eastern, and Asia,

207, 209, 278 (Latin, 182-186, 188, central and northern), 24, 65, 133, 165, 189, 193, 194, 196); in Asia, East, 52, 168-170, 189, 211, 256, 257, 330, 360, 330 (Southeast, 340, 346; Southwest, 376, 377, 383. See also Russia

124, 235, 245, 246, 251) spacing of births. See birth spacing

slave officeholder(s), 245, 246 Spain (Europe, Mediterranean), 81, 85, slave-owning societies, 242, 245, 246, 340. 88-90, 94, 132, 134, 135, 154-156,

See also slave societies 159, 180, 183, 185, 203, 335, 336, 355,

slave procreation, 80, 186, 193, 217, 238 380, 385

slave-raiding, 135, 182, 198, 235, 236, Spaniard(s) (Europeans, Mediterranean), 238-240, 244, 249, 250, 273, 275, 280, 12, 53, 80, 155, 180-190, 195, 196,

289, 290. See also slave-taking 200, 203, 218, 245, 354

slave societies, 245, 340. See also slave- Spanish (Spaniard in origin), 33, 47, 119,

owning societies 127, 154, 155, 161, 180-190, 195, 196,

slave-taking, 121, 123, 135, 235, 274. See 198, 199, 201, 224, 355

also slave-raiding Spanish speaker(s) (in U.S.), 201-203. See

slave-trader(s), 75, 76, 124, 135, 185, 186, also Hispanic-American(s)

193, 209, 233-236, 238, 241-244, Sparta (Greece), 74, 80

250-252, 275, 276, 289, 294 sperm, 13, 331, 379, 380. See also

325 spices, 135, 147

sleeping arrangements, 172, 181, 237-239, processes, generative, male

sleeping sickness, 11, 236 sponge(s), cervical, 78

smallpox, 4, 9, 12, 79, 80, 99, 102, 106, spontaneous abortion. See miscarriage(s) 107, 113, 114, 120, 140, 151, 158, 171, — spousal age gap. See age gap or difference,

181, 182, 224, 229, 233, 288, 292, 308, spousal 337, 340, 345, 346, 349, 355, 387. See spousal bond(s), 238, 239, 285. See also

also inoculation; vaccination marriage, companionate

Smith, Thomas C., 370 spouse(s), 19, 23, 34, 36, 44, 46, 50, 70, smoke, 3, 132, 231, 350. See also 75, 82, 91, 100, 118, 121, 133, 137, pollutant(s) or pollution 144, 206, 207, 210, 220, 244, 270, 273,

social replacement. See replacement, social 279-281, 284, 294, 373, 378, 381, 382. social welfare services. See system, social See also spousal bond(s); husband(s);

welfare wife or wives

socialism, state, 376. See also Communism spouse age gap. See age gap or difference,

or Communist(s); economy, state- spousal

controlled; Marxism-Leninism spouse circulation, 56, 57, 123, 240, 275,

Soeradji, Budi, 352 284, 285, 380. See also partner circulation Somalia (Africa, eastern), 123, 269, 287 spouses, separate accounting, 279-281,

son(s), 8, 33, 43, 45, 68, 69, 72-74, 76, 284, 291 77, 86-88, 90-92, 100, 102, 106, Sri Lanka (Asia, South), 5, 101, 102, 109,

110-112, 115, 134, 149, 155, 156, 158, 296, 297, 299-302, 305, 308, 309, 312, 161, 188, 191, 192, 213, 238, 248, 255, 314, 324, 325, 330

289, 301, 303-305, 307, 309, 310, 314, SriLankan(s) (Asians, South), 119, 300, 340

462 INDEX SS-PE-ES system, 175-177, 374, 383, Surinam (America, South), 193 384, 387. See also Bernstam, Mikhail; surrogate gestation. See gestation, surrogate education, public; pension(s); system, survival, 3, 29, 68, 95, 100, 101, 103, social welfare, governmental institutional 104, 107, 133, 142, 143, 158, 192, 212, stable population. See population, stable 248, 249, 342, 383 state socialism. See socialism, state —=in Africa: central, 250; eastern, 288; stationarity. See population, stationary western, 276, 278, 282 (by ethnicity, 271) status anxiety or concern, 31, 102, 103, —in America: North, 197, 206, 208, 213, 144, 184, 212, 242, 243, 272, 363, 367, 216; South, 190

370 —in Asia: East, 113, 365, 367, 371;

status group(s), 97, 275 South, 313, 319, 326, 332, 333; status protection, 31, 340 Southeast, 118, 342, 343, 345, 346, steamship(s), 4, 63, 140, 151, 246, 297, 348, 349

313, 375 —in Europe: central, 161; Mediterranean,

steel, 376 73, 78, 89; western, 91, 142, 149, 208 stem family. See family, stem —in Oceania, 43, 227

stem household. See household, stem —to 1 year, 17, 18, 78

stepchildren, 215 —to 3 years, 279

stepparents, 215, 378 —to 5 years, 31, 113, 190, 197, 282, 313,

steppes, 67, 106, 108 365

sterility, 103, 275, 279, 283-287; —to 10 years, 216, 276

secondary or acquired, 103, 181, 183, —to 15 years, 213, 227, 250, 365, 371 229, 240, 250, 272, 283, 348, 380. See —to 20 years, 208, 332

also disease, venereal; partner circulation; survival strategies. See parenting, flexible;

spouse circulation partner circulation; polyandry; risk

sterilization, voluntary, 334. See also tubal aversion; son preference; spouse circulation

ligation; vasectomy Swahili (African language, eastern), 244

stillbirth(s) or stillborn, 17, 71, 79, 103, Swaziland (Africa, southern), 269, 290, 291 104, 170, 171, 313. See also birth Swede(s) or Swedish (Europeans, western), process; birth-giving; mortality, maternal 206

Stone, Lawrence, 174 Sweden (Europe, western), 17, 84, 89, stove(s), 3, 12. See also furnace(s) 138, 148-151, 154, 156, 159, 170 stratum or strata, 45 , swidden, 40, 49-51, 55, 113, 115, 117,

strength, endurance, 45; upper-body power, 118, 124, 125, 238, 241, 291, 338, 348.

31, 45, 149, 306 See also bush-fallow; long-fallow

stress, 14, 16-18, 163; economic or Swiss (Europeans, central), 163

socioeconomic, 16, 143, 144; physio- Switzerland (Europe, central), 132, 163, logical, 15; psychological, 13, 144, 146 164, 171, 336, 385

Sturbridge (Massachusetts), 204, 205 syphilis, 181 subcommoner(s), 331, 332. See also Syria (Asia, Southwest), 243, 260-266, 268

commoner(s) system, social welfare, 7, 162, 175, 325,

suburb or suburban, 343 374, 383 (see also health services, Sudan (Africa, central), 47, 55, 123, 240, public; SS-PE-ES system); governmental 246, 269, 282, 285, 286 institutional, 26, 113, 133, 136, 215, Sudanese kinship terminology. See kinship 293, 294, 377, 383, 384 (see also Poor terminology, Sudanese Laws; Poor Laws, New); religious sudden infant death syndrome, 157, 172. institutional, 113, 133, 383 (see also See also overlaying almsgiving; confraternities; foundling

Suez Canal (Egypt), 246 hospital(s); guild(s); offering, of children) Sugao (India), 316, 319 sugar, 185, 189, 229, 349 Tabor Hill (America, North), 54

suicide, 9, 111 Tacitus (classical Roman historian), 80-82 Sulawesi (Indonesia), 347, 348 Tagalog (Filipinos), 358

Sumatra (Indonesia), 346, 347, 351 Taipei (Taiwan), 303, 320, 329

Sundanese, 351, 352, 358 Takayama (Japan), 362, 365, 366 support network(s). See network(s), support talent development. See education; family

surgical implantation. See implantation, goals; nurturance or nurturing; schooling

surgical Tamang (Nepal), 112, 331, 332

INDEX 463 Tamasheq (Africans, western), 236, 240, herding; nomad(s) or nomadism;

271, 272. See also Tuareg pastoralist(s) or pastoralism

Tamil(s) (Asians, South), 309, 325 Teotihuacan (Mexico), 126

Tamil Nadu (India), 312, 313, 380 Terling (England), 136 |

Tan, Mely G., 352 tetanus, 98, 287, 387

Tasmania, 225-227. See also Aborigine(s) Texas (U.S.), 201-203, 209 tax(es) or taxation, 64, 67, 105, 109, 137, Thai (Asians, Southeast), 119, 304, 338,

156, 157, 213, 249, 250, 252, 271, 340, 340-343, 346, 356, 358

344, 349, 363, 364, 374 Thai Chinese (Asians, Southeast), 341, taxpayer(s), 105, 137, 205, 340, 366 342, 358

tea, 13 Thailand (Asia, Southeast), 49, 118, teak. 338 , 336-343, 346, 356, 357. See also Siam technology, 21, 24-26, 30, 32, 34, 35, 39, Thai Muslims (Asians, Southeast), 341,

43, 52, 55, 87, 92, 109, 133, 137, 184, __ 342, 358 |

294, 333, 375, 387, 388. See also Theravada. See Buddhism, Theravada agriculture; bronze; cultivation; electricity; Third Age, 22, 176, 374. See also Laslett,

furnace(s); hydroelectricity,; mining or Peter mines; pumping system(s); steel; stove(s); Thornton, Russell, 179

, three-generation family. See family, 7

meudee 4, 6, 376 three-generation energy cepe a ,220, three-generational household. See

—eneray-efficient, 4, 6

—health, 4, 14, 15 (see also air supply: household, three-generational antibiotic(s); chopsticks; dialysis; food Tibet (Asia, East), 297, 298, 311, 330

rules; health services; inoculation: nen ussians, Fast. are Oe

latrine(s); park(s) or park systems; ibetan plateau (Asia, East), ed also Tibet pumping system(s); quarantine: _. Tilburg (Netherlands), 148

re rigeration or re rigerator(s); sanitation, timber, 135, 166, 199, 376. See also public, sewage removal; vaccination or forest(s); lumber; rainforest; teak vaccine(s); water, boiled; water supply; time and distance, 63

wells, pumped) tin, 350

—information, 63, 65, 379. See also Togo (Africa, western), 269, 271, 275, 279 computer(s); satellite(s); telegraph; Tokugawa (A.D. 1600-1868, in Japan), 12,

television; writing 360-370. See also warrior-administrator(s)

—reproductive, 379, 380 (see also Tokyo (Japan), 63, 375, 376

contraception; contraceptive(s)); female, Toltec(s) ( Americans, North) 125-127

379, 380 (see also amniocentesis; Tonga (Africans, southern) 991

gestation, surrogate; implantation, Toraiwa ( Japan) 364

surgical; Rh factor; ultrasonic testing); Toronto (Canada), 63, 375, 376 male, 379, 380 (see also insemination, total births. See fertility, completed

artificial) town(s), 25, 87, 91, 115, 116, 139, 145,

—transportation, 3, 4, 63, 140, 170, 379, 147, 162, 163, 189, 190, 205, 206, 220,

387, 388 (see also airplane(s); 222, 244, 245, 253-255, 264, 273, 318,

automobile(s); harness(es); transport, 348, 356, 361-363, 369. See also city motor(ized); railroad(s); road-building; or Cities

steamship(s)) townspeople, 160, 236, 260. See also city

tectonic shift (before 2000 B.c.), 97 dweller(s)

teenage. See adolescence or adolescent(s) trade, 44, 55, 57, 67, 85, 105, 113, 116,

Tehuacan (Mexico), 124, 125 120, 123, 135, 137, 147, 155, 160, 161,

telegraph, 63 166, 167, 199, 233, 238, 243, 246, 249, television, 65 274, 275, 281, 289, 333, 344, 346, 350, Temne (Africans, western), 80, 277, 278 364, 376. See also commerce temperate. See climate, temperate trade, a (form of livelihood), 139, 141, 146 tenant(s), 88-90, 118, 149, 152-154, 158, _ trade network(s). See network(s), trade 159, 273, 355, 366, 368, 369. See also transatlantic, 186, 274

landlord(s); rent(s) or renter(s) Transdanubia (Hungary), 164

Tennoji (Japan), 363, 366 transhumance, 331, 332 tent group(s), 47. See also herder(s) or transoceanic, 54, 209

464 INDEX transport, motor(ized), xi, 67, 308, 375 Northern; Scotland: Wales transportation. See technology, transportation | United Nations Children’s Fund, United

transsaharan, 121, 174 States Committee for, 387

tree(s), 34, 39, 40, 58, 68, 105, 115, 132, United States (America, North), 12, 17, 22,

241. See also forest(s) 23, 65, 136, 136, 149, 154, 159, 168,

tribe(s), scheduled (in India), 299, 319, 320 176, 177, 182, 185, 186, 189, 196-225, Trinidad (Caribbean), 194; and Tobago, 385 228, 231, 252, 253, 256-258, 275, 278,

Tristan da Cunha, 23 | 336, 338, 339, 344, 355, 356, 377, 378, ropical. eee Gimate, tropical 385-388, eastern, 199; middle Atlantic, trust, 204-206, 216; north central (Great Tshapa (Zaire), 283 Lakes), 199, 206, 210, 212, 220:

’ ’ ; ; northern, ; ;

Teena (Africans, southern) 293 pon eastern new eng Tuareg (Airicans, western), 236, 272. See northwestern, 199: southern, 24, 189,

also tamasneq 206, 207, 210, 212, 216-218,

tubercular, 6 oat atthe Car,

tubal ligation, 322 southwestern, 199, 202, 220: western, 199 United States B ftheC 202, 2 tuberculosis, 12, 75, 84, 126, 128, 208, nited States Bureau of the Census, 202, 273 217, 229, 284, 308, 387; genital, 16 unlucky year(s), 370, 371 Tukolor (Africans, western), sone unpropertied, 139, 141, 143, 146, 161.

; , , See also propertyless

Tula (Mexico), 193 untouchable(s). See caste(s), scheduled Tunisia (Africa, North), 248, 257, bod h husical 260-262. upper: oy power { man physical). See ; aa ; , 265-268 strength, upper-body power

Turi (Aborigines Australia), 39 Upper Volta. See Burkina Faso

Turk(s) or Turkish (Asians, Southwest), urban. 4. 132. 139. 140 142 143. 147

125, 239, 289-247, 203-257, 260; 152, 161-163, 167, 169, 172, 212, 218, Ottoman, 10, 67, 107, 154, 164, 165, 256, 260, 261, 264, 276-279, 281, 284

243, 246, 252, 280, 375 , , , we

Turkana (Africans, eastern), 288 sat oD aa ve set an 329-331,

Turkestan, Chinese (Asia, East), 297 363° 360 371. 373) Gee 92, 356-360, Turkey (Asia, Southwest), 5, 132, 246, “tics: rural urbarivathon. also city or Ottoman 65 24] 3oo p68 Gee igo urbanization, 208, 209, 211, 212, 220,

247, 252-258, 260-262, 265, 268; n

Anatolia. 317, 361. See also city-led; commerTurkmen industrial-commercial life; industri-

Turkish speakers. See Turk(s) or Turkish; cialization; economic diversification;

Turkmen (Asians, central), 168 alization, urban

also Florence . 195

Tuscany (Italy), 25, 157-159, 187. See Uruguay (America, South), 190, 192, 193,

Tutsi (Africans, central), 236 Utah (U.S.), 211 typhoon(s), 108, 114, 241 uterine or uterus, 14, 16, 17. See also reproductive system, female

Uganda (Africa, eastern), 55, 288, 289 Uttar Pradesh (India), 299, 313, 324 Ukrainian(s) (Europeans, eastern), 169 uxorilocal or uxorilocality, 253, 301, 304,

ulcer(s), 10 311, 312. See also marriage, uxorilocal ultrasonic testing, 308

uncle(s), 37, 38, 68, 69, 76, 88, 115 vaccination or vaccine(s), 4, 80, 136, 140,

unemployment, 202, 218, 248, 361 158, 171, 308, 340, 349, 380, 387 unilineality, 300. See also duolineal or Vandra (Estonia), 165

duolineality; matrilineal or matrilineality; Vanuatu (Oceania), 230

patrilineal or patrilineality Varanasi (India), 302, 325, 326

union, consensual, 77, 79, 150, 152, 162, vasectomy, 322, 334

188, 189, 193-195, 218, 229, 381; vassal(s). See lord(s)

formal concubinage, 77; visiting, 193 Vastmaniand (Sweden), 149 United Arab Emirates (Asia, Southwest), veil. See women, role(s), concealing garb

261, 262 Vellala(s) (India, caste group), 313

United Kingdom (Europe, western), 385. Vellore (India}, 307 See also Britain; England; Ireland, Venezuela (America, South), 384, 385

INDEX 465 viability of fetus. See gestation, minimal 140-142, 162, 372; real, 137, 138, 142,

for viability 147, 153, 192, 248 Victorian era (mid to late 19th century 143-146, 148, 153, 160, 161, 173, 221, A.D.), 139, 140 223, 225, 228 Vietnam (Asia, Southeast), 109, 119, 330, —- warfare, 9, 39, 43, 50, 107-109, 126, 147, Victoria (Australia), 226-228 Wales (Europe, western), 132, 139, 141,

337, 339, 343-345 159, 160, 180-183, 198, 199, 235, 240,

Vietnamese (Asians, Southeast), 109, 337, 252-254, 259, 276, 287, 296, 298,

344, 345 336-340, 344, 345, 352, 355, 360, 376,

Viking(s) (Europeans, western), 84, 201 nuclear, 15, 176. See also conquest(s);

Vila Rica (Brazil), 185 invasion(s)

village(s), 11, 12, 41, 44-47, 52, 66, 68, warrior-administrator(s), 361, 362, 364,

76, 97, 98, 115, 122, 127, 136, 140, 366, 367. See also Tokugawa

142, 145, 147, 148, 156, 160, 163, 174, warrior-ruler(s), 97, 103. See also Kshatria

179, 194, 197, 221, 239, 247, 253-256, or Kshatriya 273, 278, 284, 286, 290, 302, 311, 315, Washington (U.S., city), 63, 198, 375, 376 316, 318, 319, 327-329, 345, 348, 349, wastes, animal, 4. human, 132: industrial, 356, 357, 359, 362, 365, 366, 368, 369, 132, 190; Inorganic, 132; organic, 132;

387. See also community; villager(s) toxic, 376. See also pollutant(s) or villager(s), 39, 47, 48, 52, 64-70, 117, Wotsite (Africans eastern), 251 236, 260, 264, 276, 285, 286, 309, 312, Water, boiled, 13, 107, 320 319, 330, 332, 344, 359, 368, 387. See Water supply, 3, 4, 132, 264, 308, 311,

122-125, 142, 146, 160, 162, 171, 189, ,

also client(s); embarrassment, power of; roto 40 See also fow! peasant(s) or peasantry; village(s) watermill(s) BA

violence. See accident . wy:

Virginia (U.S.), 126, 199, 203, 206, 216, 220 ween 16 137 208 21S 275, 366. See

virginity, premarital, 238, 380 also income

pathogen(s) OG!

virus(es), 3, 10, 102, 320. See also wealthy, the, 172, 236, 309

Visaria, Leela and Pravin, 296 seco ig ots o1, 68, 92, 278, 286. See Visaya islands (Philippines), 355 weaponry, nuclear, 376 visiting union. See union, consensual, visiting weaving hall. See manor weaving hall

vitamin D, 216. See also calcium; diet; well(s), 98, 271, 320: pumped, 11

malnutrition; nutrition Welsh (Europeans, western), 140

voice, breaking, 13, 170. See also puberty Wend(s) (German-Americans in U.S.)

volcanoe(s) or volcanic eruption(s), 108, 909 114, 151, 241 West Bengal. See Bengal, West western), 271 Westerhus (Sweden), 84, 89

Volta River or basin or valley (Africa, West Indies. See Caribbean islands

Vossenburg (Surinam), 193 Western Australia (state in Australia), 226,

vulnerability (to disease), 128; male, 15, 227

31, 75. See also immune or immunity; wet nurse or wet-nursing, 92, 146, 193 immunity reaction; immunoglobin(s) wheat, 9, 39, 52, 104, 107, 108, 305, 306, 310

wage, family or living, 141, 142. See also whooping cough, 387

breadwinner pay or wage widow remarriage. See remarriage, widow(s)

wage laborer(s), 88, 89, 143, 161, 189. widower remarriage. See remarriage,

oe ork Ney 93, 138, 141, 143 widower(s) wage worker(s), 79, ,139 , ; widowhood or widowing, 83, 102, 110,

144, 146, 164, 167, 187, 209, 210, 212, 117, 122, 141, 157, 218, 240, 254, 260, 257, 258, 349, 369; agricultural, 89, 261, 266, 270, 274, 277, 282, 283, 285, 139, 141, 142, 152, 158, 159, 161, 162, 354, 367, 382 189, 207, 224, 256, 321, 372; industrial, | widowing age(s) for women, 78; in Africa,

141, 143. See also employee(s); wage south of Sahara, 239, 240, 274; in India,

laborer(s) 102; in Mediterranean realm, 157, 237;

wages or wage income, 121, 137, 138, in Mesopotamia, 71

466 INDEX wife or wives, 18, 21, 23, 24, 34-36, World War I (A.D. 1914-18), 156, 160, 38, 46, 49, 51, 56, 57, 70, 72, 73, 77, 165, 170, 209, 246, 252, 257, 263, 264,

80, 86, 87, 90, 92, 95, 100-102, 109, 266, 276, 289, 372

111, 115, 117, 123, 142, 144, 157, 188, |= World War II (A.D. 1939-45), 143, 164,

189, 195, 196, 200, 206, 207, 211, 165, 168, 170, 257, 276, 296, 298, 336,

235-240, 243, 245, 251, 253-255, 364, 371, 372

258-269, 273, 274, 276, 277, 279-282, writing, 43, 52, 53, 117, 198 284, 287, 290-292, 294, 300, 303, 306, written record(s). See record(s), written; 312, 314, 316, 319, 324-326, 329, 331, writing 348, 353, 359, 361-363, 366, 371, 379, Wuli (Africans, western), 276, 277 380, 382; secondary, 35, 111, 303, 366. See also co-wife or co-wives; husband(s); Xinjiang (China), 297 marriage; spouse(s)

wife-burning, 306 Yakima (Americans, North), 197

witchcraft, 10 yam(s), 9, 123 Wolof (Africans, western), 250 Yangzi River or basin or valley (China), 53, women, older, household situation, 85, 144, 106, 310, 334

146, 159, 163, 317, 341, 373 Yellow River or basin or valley (China), 52,

women, property rights, 83, 189, 272, 314, 53, 82, 106, 108, 317

382 Yemen (Asia, Southwest), 260-263, 270,

women, role(s), 239, 247, 379, 384; 287; Democratic, 261, 263 concealing garb, 95, 246, 258, 259; work _——Yi (Asians, East), 330

outside home, 95, 123, 144, 150, 191, Yokouchi (Japan), 363, 365, 367, 368, 370 201, 204, 207, 208, 211, 215, 230, 239, Yoruba (Africans, western), 43, 280, 281 244, 267, 300, 312, 329, 342, 343, 345, ~=youth. See adolescence or adolescent(s)

360, 363, 367-370, 374, 378. See also Yucatan (Mexico), 125, 179

footbinding Yugoslav(s) (Europeans, eastern), 28

wool or woolen(s), 85, 86, 136, 138, Yugoslavia (Europe, eastern), 166, 228

152 Yunnan (China), 298

work, paid, 251, 273, 276, 278, 286, 291, 348; full-time or steady, 137, 189; part- Zaire (Africa, central), 147, 241, 250, 269,

time or irregular or casual, 137, 189, 283, 284

211, 244, 245, 356, 357. See also Zaire River or basin or valley (Africa,

employment central), 242, 245, 281, 284

work load, 122, 123 Zambia (Africa, southern), 55, 290, 291

worker(s): auxiliary, 374 (see also work, Zamora (Spain), 380 paid, part-time or irregular or casual); Zanzibar (Africa, eastern), 235, 286, 289 career, 374, 384 (see also work, full-time Zaria (Nigeria), 282

or steady) zealots, Islamic, 131, 266

workhouse(s), 137, 146, 169. See also Zhejiang (China), 303, 327

Poor Laws, New Zimbabwe (Africa, southern), 243, 290, 291

world’s fairs or expositions, 375, 376 Zulu (Africans, southern), 292-294

About the Author G. ROBINA QUALE is Professor of History at Albion College. She is the author of A History of Marriage Systems (Greenwood Press, 1988) and Eastern Civilizations (1966; 2nd ed. 1975).