“As you know,” Edrich continued, “the object of the Civic Coordination Program is to tap the dynamics of social change in terms of local aspirations for progress. These aspirations may be difficult to establish in a society where there has been no evolution of attitudes or change in value orientation for generations and where there are no new mechanisms for action within the community structure. In order to create a dynamic growth situation resulting in effective exploitation of community potential, aspirations must be identified in relation to felt needs. The individual thus feels himself able to function as a person, at the same time participating in implementation of community goals.”

“What are the group relationships?” The lady next to Flinders sat forward tensely for the reply.

“I’m glad you ask that, Miss Bass. Owing to traditional integration of the family as a unit, the individual seems reluctant to function in a group or sub-group situation. These social patterns may take some time to break down. And this is natural.”

“Yes. This is predictable.” Miss Bass relaxed in her chair.

“Immediately after my arrival, meetings were set up with local officials to alert them to Civic Coordination projects in the vicinity and to inform them of the terms of my assignment as agreed between their own government and the Organization.” Edrich returned to the film, where a herd of shaggy goats had appeared in the main street, followed by a donkey. “A committee was appointed to evaluate needs and resources and to establish work priorities.” The scene changed to a row of sunburned men in dungarees and open shirts. One was leaning self-consciously on a tall staff; another was waving at the camera. “After a certain initial language confusion—owing to a particularly corrupt dialect spoken in this region—my project was accepted enthusiastically, although a slower time-table was eventually agreed upon.”

Here the film came to a splicing, and a series of horizontal black lines twitched frantically up the screen.

“I believe the pictures will speak for themselves from here on.”

There followed, when the film resumed, a succession of scenes involving prodigious bodily labor of all kinds. One by one the men and women of the town passed across the screen—carrying great baskets of earth, digging deep and narrow ditches, or with muscles braced and heads bowed, pushing against a boulder. Once Edrich himself was glimpsed sitting on a rock and mopping his brow. And once, to the horror of Flinders, a tree was chopped down. A bridge was built, across a stream whose course was subsequently diverted. A little blockhouse of raw brick was laboriously constructed among the whitewashed domes and in no time at all bore the legend “Administration Building” in three languages. In the final episode, every able-bodied member of the community was shown on hands and knees, breaking stones for a road that would connect the area to the nearest industrial center.