Food looms large in the globalization debates. Both proponents
and opponents of globalization, both those who bring an economic
analysis to bear and those who prefer to talk about culture,
point to McDonalds, Nestl, ADM, Cargill, the Rockefeller
Foundation and the FAO in support of their arguments. The
role of such organizations in spreading the western diet,
with its heavy emphasis on wheat bread, beef, and dairy products,
far beyond its original home in the countries of the so-called
Atlantic economy cannot be denied.
My question, though, is why have consumers by and large been
happy to accept new foods such as wheat bread, hamburgers,
and condensed milk? Important as revolutionary changes in
agriculture, growth in food processing, extensive transportation
networks, and aggressive marketing by multinational corporations
have been, they cannot be the whole story. People are
quite capable of rejecting new foods in the face of hunger
or even starvation as history makes clear. Europeans resisted
replacing their familiar grainswheat, oats, and ryewith
potatoes for more than a hundred years in spite of constant
government badgering. Having accepted the potato, both the
Irish during the Famine and other northern Europeans in World
War I found maize, a strange grain and one associated with
animal feed, unpalatable. American POWs captured in the Korean
War often refused the rations offered by their captors on
the grounds that they were repellent and as a result died
of diseases brought on by malnutrition.1
To understand why the western diet has been accepted, then,
we need to look at what made consumers in many parts of the
world receptive to western foods by the middle of the twentieth
century. As my examples, I shall take two foodstuffs, wheat
bread and beef, and two countries, Mexico and Japan
(though Italy, Brazil, Turkey, and Iran would all be excellent
alternatives).
The western diet is a relative newcomer on the world scene.
Inspired by new Paracelsan principles of nutrition and digestion,
it was invented around 1650 in England, France and Holland
and promoted as healthier than the cuisine then dominant across
Europe, the cuisine informed by humoral theory and associated
with Catholic, Hapsburg southern Europe. That cuisine relied
not on beef but on lamb and pork and valued rice as well as
bread.
The substance of the western diet may have differed from that
of its predecessor but the two diets shared some important
features. First they were both power cuisines, that is they
were cuisines for the powerful and they were heavy in foodstuffs
reserved for the powerful, above all meats (or expensive surrogates)
and elite grains. Thus, they were eaten by only a tiny fraction
of the population. Everyone else, the common people, ate diets
that were largely carbohydrate, largely made up of lesser
grains (millets, oats, rye, or barley) or roots and tubers.2
Second, underlying the distinction between power cuisines
and common cuisines was a dietary determinism, that is the
belief that what one ate determined how strong and healthy
one was, how intelligent one was, and the quality of ones
moral fibre. From antiquity on, physicians and their elite
patients were of one mind that power foods created and maintained
their power, while common foods sufficed for the lesser demands
of ordinary people.
Third, the western and the southern European power cuisines
were part of a global network of such cuisines stretching
from China and Japan through India, Persia, Turkey to New
Spain and Peru.3
Power cuisines had originated with the civilizations of Sumer,
Egypt and the Indus Valley and for five thousand years successive
ruling classes had emulated and emended the cuisines of their
predecessors and competitors, the constant throughout being
a prudent dietary determinism.
In the years following 1650, the western power diet evolved
in tandem with western nutritional science, the two mutually
reinforcing each other. By the 1830s and 40s, scientists had
identified the two major components of food: the nitrogenous
or azotized (our proteins) and the carbonaceous (our carbohydrates).
Enthusiastic about their discoveries, scientists made bold
claims about the power of proteins. Proteins, argued the famous
German scientist, Justus Liebig, were the only true nutrients.4
Without them, added the French scientist, Geoffroy Sainte-Hilaire,
mental activity ground to a halt. Challenges to such
extreme claims were mounted in the succeeding fifty years.
Indeed the very necessity of protein-rich diets was questioned
by some trained nutritionists and some others of radical religious
persuasion such as Sylvester Graham (of the Graham cracker)
and the Seventh Day Adventists (including the inventor of
Cornflakes, John Harvey Kellogg). Notwithstanding as the nineteenth
century drew to a close, most scientists and doctors concurred
that the two pillars of the healthy diet (along with salts,
water, and perhaps certain appetite stimulants such as tea,
coffee or spices) were carbonaceous and nitrogenous foods.
They enshrined beef as the most concentrated of the nitrogenous
foods and wheat, high in nitrogen and with gluten similar
to animal proteins, as the best of the carbonaceous.
In northwest Europe and the United States, the well-to-do
embraced the power diet of bread and beef. Housewives snapped
up Liebigs beef extract which he promoted as equivalent to
the flesh itself. British middle-class women referred
to Mrs. Beetons Household Management (1861) in which she
ranked the cereals according to their respective richness
in alimentary elements: . . .Wheat, and its varieties, Rye,
Barley, Oats, Rice, Indian Corn. The moral was that In our
own times, and among civilized peoples, bread has become an
article of food of the first necessity, and properly so, for
it constitutes of itself a complete life-sustainer, the gluten,
starch and sugar, which it contains, representing azotized
and hydro-carbonated nutrients, and combining the sustaining
powers of the animal and vegetable kingdoms in one product.5
Americans heard the same story from Sarah Hale, the author
of the popular Good Housekeeper (1841): animal food strengthens
the reasoning power, or the brain, the organ of the mind,
better than vegetable food could do.6
Given that all global elites were dietary determinists, accustomed
to coopting and adapting coming power cuisines, it is no surprise
that they quickly began experimenting with the power diet
of the increasingly powerful western nations. They opted for
its most elaborate and expensive form, French haute cuisine.
From St Petersburg to San Francisco, from Tokyo to Mexico
City, canny chefs and entrepreneurial restauranteurs and hoteliers
were quick to cater to these tastes. In Mexico, for example,
the well-to-do, who ate a version of the older Hapsburg cuisine,
now flocked to cafes and restaurants based on French models,
enjoyed French cuisine served at state functions, made sure
that their daughters learnt French cooking, and read in the
Nuevo Cocinero Mexicano en Forma de Diccionario (1888) that
the meat of the ox is one of the best foods and one of the
most nutritious . . . the most appropriate to restore the
strength, drained by violent exercise or hard work.7
In Japan, where the elite had eaten white rice and fresh fish,
the Emperor Meiji set the tone. On January 24th 1872 he ate
beef in public. At the same time he abolished the Prohibition
of Killing Law, the antecedents of which went back to 676.
Soon the elite could eat French cuisine at the Imperial, the
new western-style hotel in Tokyo, in railroad dining cars,
and of course, at formal, official banquets in the Palace.8
What we have thus far is simply one more set of expropriations
of a new power diet, interesting, but not enough in itself
to set the stage for the late twentieth century globalization
of the western diet. To understand that we must look
at one further feature of the western diet, namely its extension
to all social classes at the beginning of the twentieth century.
In England, for example, by the 1860s 90% of all breadstuffs
(bread, crackers, biscuits, etc.) were made of wheat.9
In the United States between the 1880s and the 1930s wheat
bread and beef displaced the earlier diet of maize (as
hominy, grits or corn bread) and salt pork except among the
southern poor.10 For a variety
of reasons, prominent among them the perception that modern
nations needed well fed (and hence strong and intelligent)
factory workers and soldiers not just sluggish agricultural
laborers, the powerful, far from resisting this change, encouraged
it.11
For the first time in history whole nations were eating power
cuisine.
For many scientists, politicians and writers this democratized
power diet of white bread and beef, rather than climate or
heredity for example, explained the wests industrial prowess,
intellectual achievements, and above all its overseas empires.
Sarah Hale reminded her readers that the portion of the human
family, who have the means of obtaining [animal] food at least
once a day . . . hold dominion over the earth. Forty thousand
of the beef-fed British govern and control ninety millions
of the rice-eating natives of India. Edwin Lankester, a British
science popularizer, baldly stated that Those races who have
partaken of animal food are the most vigorous, most moral,
and most intellectual of races.12
A well-known Australian doctor assured the readers of his
dietary text that Rice is, from an economical point of view,
a wretched article of diet . . . We might expect to find rice-eaters
everywhere a wretched, impotent, and effeminate race, and
such is the case.13 The growing
evidence that eating large quantities of rice or maize caused
beriberi or pellagra reinforced such low opinions.
The western nations introduced a variety of policies to make
sure their peoples ate the power diet. In the United States,
for example, immigrants diets were scrutinized. Where they
appeared to fall short, as in the case of newly arrived eastern
and southern Europeans, home economists moved in to convert
them to white bread, milk and beef. Where they appeared
totally foreign, as in the case of the Chinese, the fact could
be use to argue a change in immigration policy. You
can not work a man who must have beef and bread, and would
prefer beef alongside of a man who can live on rice. In all
such conflicts, and in all such struggles, the result is not
to bring up the man who lives on rice to the beef-and-bread
standard, but it is to bring down the beef-and bread man to
the rice standard, campaigned Senator James Blaine. His line
was echoed by the President of the American Federation of
Labor, Samuel Gompers, in his 1902 testimony to the US Senate,
Man vs. Rice. Some Reasons for Chinese Exclusion.14
For the British, it was the diet for the colonies that was
at stake. Most doctors argued that, while the colonizers should
stick to their empowering western cuisine, they should be
wary of introducing it to the colonized. For the European
a diet of sago and rice was a low diet to be eaten by convalescents.
For the Asian, it was likely to be stimulant and injurious.15
A minority dissented. The leading Dutch nutritionist, Jacob
Moleschott in The Science of Foodstuffs for the People (1850)
protested that potato-eaters had no chance of competing with
wheat-eaters. Sluggish potato bread, is it supposed to impart
the power for labor to the muscles, and the enlivening verve
of hope to the brain? Poor Ireland . . . You cannot win! For
your diet awakens powerless despair, not enthusiasm, and only
enthusiasm is able to blow over the giant [England] through
whose veins courses the energy of rich blood.16
Nor was rice much better. As long as the Javanese live mainly
on rice . . . they will be subjugated by the Dutch. It is
undeniable that the superiority of the English and the Dutch
over the native populations of their colonies is in the first
place a superiority of the brain, but this superiority rests
on a superiority of the blood, which in turn depends on the
quality of nourishment.17
With the fate of nations, not just individuals, now attributed
to diet, one nation after another began to believe it had
a nutritional crisis on its hands. If a nation was to emulate
the modern industry and modern armies of the west then, argued
many, its population had to eat the strengthening western
diet. Although for centuries states, as part of the implicit
pact that maintained civil order, had tried to make
sure the poor were fed using devices such as price controls
on the staple food, government granaries, charity from religious
orders and civic authorities, more or less forced imposition
of high-yielding but unpopular staples, work houses, and rationing,
never had they dreamed of extending the power cuisine to the
entire population. Quite the contrary: conspicuously consuming
power cuisine was one of their defining prerogatives. Now
that had to change. Not without debate, countries such as
Mexico and Japan began creating policies to ensure their citizens
consumed an economical version of the bread and beef diet.
In Mexico intellectuals such as Justo Sierra had expressed
concern about the debilitating indigenous diet as early as
the 1880s. The issue was brought to a head, though, in 1899
by Francisco Bulnes, a prominent if controversial member of
the modernizing, French-leaning Porfirian elite, in his book
The Future of the Hispano-American Nations. He divided the
world into three races: wheat eaters, rice eaters and maize
eaters. Wheat eaters had established all the great civilizations
of antiquity, Egypt, Vedic India, Greece and Rome. Wheat eaters,
even in tiny numbers, had overthrown the seemingly powerful
Aztec and Inca empires. Wheat eating Britons had the whip
hand over Irish potato eaters and had established a great
Asian empire at the expense of rice eaters. Bulnes cited Liebig
as having shown that we needed 130 grams of protein a day
and Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire as having proved that without meat
the brain stopped functioning and civilization became impossible.
This explained why the rural poor, who ate a vegetarian diet
of maize, salt, beans and pulque, were so sluggish. To maintain
even their physical energy, let alone their mental energy,
they would have to consume 2,300 grams of maize daily to get
130 grams of protein. This meant something like seventy tortillas.
No one expected that even the hungriest campesino could down
that number. If they changed to wheat bread, they would need
only 1,400 grams, that is three loaves, still high but perhaps
possible.
Those who believed national unity depended on recognizing
the indigenous contribution to Mexicos history, dissented.
Andrs Molina Enrquez, for example, in Los Grandes Problemas
Nacionales (1909) argued that the maize that constituted the
diet of mestizos represented in an absolutely indubitable
manner the national cuisine.18
Muralists such as Diego Rivera featured maize prominently
and the well known poet Ramn Lopez Velarde began his poem,
La Patria, Patria: Your surface is maize.
Nonetheless Mexican leaders continued to harbor doubts about
maize. From about 1900 to about 1950, the countrys leaders
tried one means after another to reduce dependence on this
particular grain. The anthropologist, Manuel Gamio, who had
denounced Bulnes as a racist and who headed the indigenismo
movement, nonetheless argued that maize should be replaced
by soy beans. The politician and intellectual, Jos Vasconselas,
minister of education from 1921 to 1924 and architect of Mexicos
system of rural schooling, believed that if the country were
to progress Mexicans should give up maize for wheat.19
From 1921 on at least some schoolchildren received free breakfasts
of bread, beans and coffee. School teachers and social workers
instructed rural women in the arts of making bread and macaroni
and cheese. Sociologists used the continued consumption of
tortillas as a measure of the social backwardness of rural
areas in the 1940s.
Food processing became industrialized, benefitting from the
governments investment in infrastructure. Modern steel roller
mills for wheat had been built in the first half of the twentieth
century, long before mills for processing maize had even been
invented.20 Factories turned out soda crackers
and milk processing plants produced condensed and dried milks.
Efforts to modernize agriculture, interrupted by the Revolution,
were renewed in the 1930s at least on the large irrigated
farms of the northwestern states. The government began modest
support for wheat farmers, instituting a network of wheat
storage facilities. Soon the programs escalated and in 1938
President Crdenas created a state food agency (its name changed
with bewildering frequency) designed to stabilize prices and
prevent urban unrest. Although eventually extended to include
maize and beans, subsidies for wheat came first. In 1942,
at the invitation of the Mexican government, the Rockefeller
Foundation began the research that led to the Green Revolution.
Although maize again was included, it was the wheat production
that quadrupled in two decades.
In the towns, workers began to pick up tortas compuestas,
wheat rolls with meat and condiments. In town and country
alike, mothers satisfied hungry children with a snack of soda
crackers and canned tuna. In the first national census, carried
out in 1940, 45 percent of Mexicans reported that they ate
wheat at least occasionally. A decade later, 55 percent reported
eating it daily.21
In Japan we find many of the same themes, the major difference
being that (as in France) it was the military that introduced
the rural poor, their major source of conscripts, to
bread and beef.22 Like their western
counterparts, the military leaders decided that standardized
rations of cheap, nourishing food would make planning easier
even as it made their troops more effective. Military doctors
such as Sato Susumu, educated in Europe, appointed Army Surgeon
General in 1895, and author of an early text incorporating
western nutritional theory, New Theory of Dietary Cure, published
in 1888, wanted to westernize military diets. Unhappy with
the physical condition of the conscripts whose average height
in 1887 was only about 5 feet compared to the Dutch average
of just under 5' 6", they agreed with the vociferous
pro-bread group that argued that rice, the food of country
bumpkins (though in fact it was the rare country bumpkin who
could afford rice), should be abandoned in favor of bread.
The Army surveyed the conscripts diet, carried out a nutritional
analysis, compared it with western diets, and recommended
improvements. The Navy tried to implement the new diet immediately,
serving bread and biscuits instead of rice. But the western
diet was still expensive and the proponents of rice had not
given up.
Indeed the pro-rice group had responded with consummate panache.23
They had arranged for sumo wrestlers to heave backbreaking
sacks of rice over their heads in front of foreign journalists
gathered at the Imperial Hotel. The wrestlers could pull this
off, explained one of their number, because they ate Japans
native food, rice grown on Japanese soil. Rice, which was
80% food, strengthened whereas meat, which was 70% water,
weakened. It was not rice that caused beriberi but the germs
that western science had recently discovered. For a while
both Army and Navy added rice, but not western foods, to the
military diet.
But just as the proponents of maize did not prevail in Mexico,
the proponents of rice did not prevent the rise of wheat in
Japan. By the 1920s the Army and Navy were both incorporating
western-style dishes in military diets. By now, intellectuals,
restauranteurs, home economists, cook book authors, and food
processors, enthusiastically supported by the government,
had adapted western dishes to Japanese tastes and created
the infrastructure to provide the ingredients. According
to intellectuals, such as Inoue Tetsujiro, professor of philosophy
at Tokyo University, even though Japanese cuisine was more
refined western food packed more nutritional punch. As he
put it in 1910, Japanese food is simple and flavoursome,
originally good for mouth and stomach, but Western food makes
us enjoy a rich taste and a nutritional value.
The promotion of beef had begun even before Emperor
Meijis retraction of the anti-meat laws and continued for
decades. In 1869 the Finance Ministry had set up the Cattle
Company to coordinate the sale of beef, milk and dairy products.
In 1871, they produced a how-to manual on beef-eating. The
hero of a play called Sitting Around the Stewpan, staged
the same year, proclaimed that beef eating measured Japans
progress toward civilization. Only philosophically-ignorant
savages could say this conflicted with the teachings of the
Buddha. When even a leading tea master, in a book, Theory
on the Improvement of the Japanese Race (1884), promoted beef
and dairy products who could disagree? By 1877 nearly five
hundred restaurants in Tokyo sold a forerunner of sukiyaki,
thin slices of beef with vegetables and bean curd simmered
in a sauce of water, sugar, soy and sake.
The Japanese government established Encouragement of Industry
Offices where foreign contractors taught entrepreneurs western
methods of food processing. Between the 1880s and the 1920s,
dozens of companies started up. Besides Japanese specialties
(soy sauce for example) they produced Worcester sauce,
canned meats and fish, dairy products and canned tomatoes.
By 1895 Japan had acquired flour milling machinery and from
1905 wheat flour was widely available.24 Soon Tokyo had over
a hundred bakeries turning out bread, by then a popular snack
food. Between 1877 and 1900, the industrialization of food,
much of it western style, accounted for 40% of Japans economic
growth.25
Using newly available ingredients, street stands, restaurants
and take out places offered Japanese versions of western dishes
by the 1920s: omelettes, croquettes, hayashi rice (hashed
beef rice), tonkatsu (breaded pork cutlets) and curry. These
were deliberate inventions not accidental occurrences as we
can see from the case of curry. When a western expert, working
at the Sapporo Agriculture College in Hokkaido, discovered
that his students preferred their familiar millet to the rice
he was supposed to introduce, he made it more acceptable with
a British-style curry sauce based on a fat-flour roux and
flavored with Crosse & Blackwell curry powder. Womens
colleges and private cooking schools such as the Akebori Cooking
Class introduced their middle-class students to these Anglo-Japanese
dishes. French haute cuisine was too labour-consuming and
troublesome, as Tetsuka Keaneko, an instructor at the Japan
Womans College, sniffed. As democratic as American homes
are, and as unsophisticated as the English homes are, so extremely
simple is their food, and easily adaptable for Japanese homes.26
Thus by the 1920s the military could draw on suppliers of
western foods and on a repertoire of western dishes adapted
to Japanese taste. Western-style dishes (meat, lard, potatoes,
fried dishes and oil dressed salads) were cheaper and more
calorific than Japanese dishes. This was a big help
in meeting the goal of 4000 calories a day per person (more
than double the estimated daily intake of 1,850 calories of
country people at the end of the nineteenth century) set in
1929.27
Recruits saw western-style dishes as national not regional,
as upscale not common, and they were encouraged to join up
in droves. Young men who had been raised on one-pot meals
of millet, taro, and other grains and roots and tubers, with
a few vegetables such as daikon or sea vegetables to add flavor
and the occasional bite of salted fish, found themselves sitting
down to curry rice. In the army they might also have fried
hamburgers with boiled potatoes, simmered pork and chopped
vegetables thickened with starch and seasoned with curry powder,
salt and sugar, croquettes (korokke) of minced fish or meat,
boiled crushed ships biscuits flavored with sugar and salt,
or donuts (donatsu). In the Navy, besides the now ubiquitous
curry, stew, and croquettes, they had macaroni, beef,
potatoes, onions and carrots in a white sauce (makaroni bifu),
boiled potatoes dressed with mustard, sugar, miso and vinegar,
and ships biscuits fried in sesame oil and seasoned with
sugar.
In the wake of World War II, state policies reversed and the
native grains were promoted once again. In Mexico, Francisco
de Paula Miranda, director of the Institute of Nutrition founded
in 1942, and his American colleagues made the first serious
study of an indigenous diet, that of the Otomi, in 1943 and
found it much more nutritious than had been assumed.28 Maize, formerly a grain
of the poor, was promoted to the symbol of national unity
as intellectuals, cookbook authors, dieticians and politicians
celebrated its centrality to the life of the country. In Japan
rice, formerly an elite grain, was proclaimed a food for everyone
and a meal composed of rice and three (rice, soup, pickle
and a protein dish) the national dish. In both countries,
collective memory was that these were the ancestral foods
of the people.
The reality was though that bread and beef by now were
rolling along with near-unstoppable inertia in Mexico, in
Japan, and we may assume in other countries too. Farmers had
learnt to plant wheat and raise beef, food processors had
wheat mills working, cracker factories in full swing, canneries
turning out processed pork products and tuna, and, in short
order, bakeries for the new sliced, wrapped wheat loaves.
Housewives had cookbooks full of recipes for western-style
dishes. Country people found crackers and the new wrapped
loaves good snacks and emergency supplies. Soldiers left the
forces more familiar with hamburgers and croquettes than with
millet and sea vegetables.
Thus the answer to my questionwhy were people prepared to
accept western foods in the second half of the twentieth century?is
that they had been well prepared to do so. Convinced that
the scientific credentials of a democratized western diet
were ratified by the success of western nations, relying on
the venerable and widely accepted theory of dietary determinism,
one nation after another had taken measures to convert their
citizens to the western diet to avert what they saw as a nutritional
crisis. Thus in the 1950s when the nutritionists of the FAO
began preaching the importance of protein, they found a ready
audience. When the United States began shipping its
surplus wheat as aid following the passing of Public Law 480
in 1954, the shipments were welcomed. By the early 1960s,
this wheat amounted to over one third of the world wheat trade
and wheat itself was second only to petroleum in the commodities
traded globally.29 The subsequent success of MdDonalds,
ADM, Cargill, and other such organizations depended on a climate
of opinion created originally by nutritionists.