UNDERGRADUATE PAGE
Changing Sardinia
i, H. G. KLEMPERER (Christ Church, Oxford) B1' travelling one may visit not only other countries but other periods of time. Features of all past ages arc encountered in Sardinia. Slow oxen dragging by their horns heavy waggons and the weary ones treading grain from the wheat might have plodded patiently for as many centuries as the old women have
spun wool in their doorways. In the pathless valleys of the interior, rocky home of wild sheep and even boars and vultures, one can walk for days and find no sign of man other than old charcoal-burning sites and occasional conical shepherds' huts built of stones and branches in the neolithic style. The peasant's struggle with soil and climate in such a country has an almost pioneer appeal. One little town in particular gives an immediate "Wild West" impres- sion. Horses run in the street, carabinieri ride past bristling with arms, a peasant boy, 'barefoot and without saddle, whips his horse into the most furious efforts as he gallops up the hillside above the town. A bandit hold-up can be an almost weekly occurrence. Miniature battles are fought between carabinieri escorts and brigands up on the barricaded pass roads. Silent sentries of a forgotten age, the mysterious Nutaghi, stone towers of uncertain purpose, stretch. in chains across the hills.
One shadow is older than all of these. It is a sorrow remembered in the weird Arab-like chant carried up on the wind from the fishermen singing on the shore, a fear reflected in Sardinian customs. In Roman times malaria made exile to the island a punishment little better than death. But at last the ancient disease is being fought with modern weapons. Huge quantities of D.D.T. have been used in an attack on all accessible places where a mosquito may shelter and every piece of water where it may breed. The letters D.D.T. with a date recording treatment with insecticide appear beside the entrance of every building in Sardinia. Not even mine-shafts, caves, bridges and miles of dry stone-wall escaped in the campaign. Spray- ing of all ships touching Sardinia has been started to prevent re- importation of mosquitoes.
Most spectacular of all has been the treatment of water. Malaria occurs throughout the island, and the mosquito larvae have been found in the mountains at over 3,000 feet. The mosquito breeds not only in stagnant water, but also in streams and springs. The aim has therefore been to discover and treat every piece of water from the extensive coastal swamps to the smallest mountain rivulets, and even water-filled animal-footprints, in a country a little larger than Wales. A whole army of Sardinians has been employed not only to find and spray water with D.D.T., but also for the work of drainage and clearing vegetation which choked ditches and prevented penetration of D.D.T. to the water surface. Although much has been done by hand, flame-throwers have helped to remove thick mats of bramble hindering access to streams, and by the use of ditching-dynamite large marshes have been changed into good agri- cultural land in a few days. Six aeroplanes, now replaced by two helicopters, have attacked suitable stretches of water from the air. Checking every piece of water for possible mosquito larvae surviving the D.D.T. treatment was a second army of scouts.
The main attack on mosquito breeding-grounds was launched in 1948 after house-spraying in the previous winter had reduced the numbers of hibernating mosquitoes. During one week in the late summer over 30,000 men were employed out of a population of little over a million. For this reason alone a Public Relations Department Is necessary, though it performs many other services, among them demonstrating thy sheep thrive on heavily treated water. Not least among the many requirements which the supply service had to meet were thousands of pairs of boots essential for good work in a rocky country where the people are so poor. The repair depot in Cagliari has even made appropriately-named " Paludina " boats out of oil- drums and D.D.T. containers to help operations on large areas of water.
It was my good fortune to go out with the larvae scouts, who
this year comprise most of the labour force, extensive disinfcstation now being necessary only when malaria-mosquito larvae are found, an increasingly rare occurrence. Suitably armed with a net and shallow metal dish, I followed my nimble companions on their round. Cheerful and generous fellows they were, always insisting on sharing their carta di musica (pancakes of dry biscuit-bread) and goat cheese with any visitor. They were all small and dark, and among themselves talked their quiet native dialect, a language which needs no support by gesticulation. One I remember in particular.
A wiry five-foot, topped by a battered tropical hat, he was glad to teach the Italian name of anything in sight, and was popular with the others for his jokes and songs. At night by the camp-fire he persuaded his friends to help him in an impromptu quartet, which, like other Sardinian songs, had the extraordinary lilt and intervals reminiscent of Eastern music. Sung in their strong Southern voices, they rather overshadowed my thin and equally unprepared rendering of English folk songs.
At midday, while we were soaking the carra di musica at a shaded spring, my companion had told me of his home, the small patch of land and few goats, and how he wished he could keep his family small enough—" Ma come ? "—for his limited income. I remem- bered a family in a little mountain village where traditional costume is still worn—many children, ragged clothes and bare feet, soup and bread for supper, drinking water five minutes away. Being the guest, I had been obliged to accept the only mattress that night, though one boy still suffered from the consequences of malaria. Others slept in the yard with the sick dog and undernourished donkey. There was hard work and few rewards. No wonder my friend was not alone in his vague hope of emigration.
The scouts were good guides, too. They showed me great caves, one of which even sheltered the well-preserved remains of a sup- posedly prehistoric village embalmed by stalagmites. They made friends with the shepherds in whose hut we slept, and their know- ledge of the best water, in one place only reached by climbing down into a cleft in the limestone with a juniper torch, was of great value in dry districts where most water was undrinkable. Every one of them is proud of the results of the campaign. Whereas thousands of primary cases of malaria once occurred annually, not a single first infection has been reported in the first half of this year. The greater number of relapses and rcinfections has been very considerably reduced, too. It is hoped that complete exter- mination of the malaria mosquito will be achieved in 1950. House- spraying has killed off domestic parasites and made flies hard to find in the towns ; with them the incidence of other diseases has decreased. Large drained areas have been set free for cultivation. From feeling themselves a neglected, isolated people hopelessly caught in a vicious circle involving disease, weakness and poverty, many have discovered in their newer conditions self-confidence and pride in the results of an undertaking in which they have helped. A sense of both cleanliness and personal conduct is growing up.
A fear of many Sardinians is that the hoped-for success of 1950 will mean the end of the scheme (at present supported by Marshall Aid and the Rockefeller Foundation) which brings them a badly- needed addition to their incomes. Moreover, such an end might also be the loss of a far greater opportunity of further development of the whole island. The present team-spirit could well be extended to other projects more far-sighted than the immediate aim of malaria- eradication. One such undertaking might be drainage on a larger scale. Mussolini's experiment at Arborca, where acres of light green rice wave in the strong Sardinian wind, shows how such reclaimed land can support a flourishing community. The well-organised society at Arborca was able to deal with its own local malaria problem with some success before the present comprehensive scheme. This has a bearing on the historical question of whether malaria has been involved in the failure of past civilisations or whether decay occurred first and malaria followed in the disorganised society. If there is some truth in the latter and the aim of a rehabilitation scheme is that its results shall be permanent, then eradication of malaria should be quickly followed by a general raising of the standard of living in Sardinia.
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