Ghana without Nkrumah
The Winter Of Discontent
Irving Markovitz
Africa Report, April 1966
Some observers have been surprised by the apparent unanimity of support
in Ghana for the little-known army officers who led the coup d'etat
against President Kwame Nkrumah on February 24. Their astonishment
paralleled the embarrassment of the Chinese chief of protocol who had
to seat the deposed leader at a state banquet in Peking even as the
Ghanaian Embassy was removing Nkrumah's portrait from a sidewalk
display case in the Chinese capital. In Accra itself, members of
Nkrumah's personal guard regiment mounted an armed resistance to the
takeover, but it was all over in a few hours. The old regime died
quickly, and with it the nine-year rule of West Africa's original and
seemingly best established nationalist leader. From an overseas
viewpoint, it has been hard to reconcile the coup with the fact that a
consensus on government and policy had seemed to emerge in Ghana out of
the struggle between originally antagonistic interests. Unlike many
other African countries, including several that have recently
experienced military takeovers, Ghana seemed to have passed
successfully through its time of troubles. Some regimes are unstable
because important elements are neither represented in them nor
decisively suppressed; but in Ghana, in one way or another every major
social group had apparently reached an understanding with the regime.
Politics was not the monopoly of an elite coalition of middle-class
intellectuals and a traditional hierarchy that excluded the peasants,
skilled laborers, and businessmen. There was considerable unrest and
dissatisfaction, several assassination attempts against Nkrumah, and
constant rumors of coups, yet the government had made conciliatory
gestures toward its opponents both within and outside its ranks, and
showed every sign of having attained a durable balance of interests.
Perhaps the kindest verdict on Nkrumah in the Western press was that he
tried too hard and was in too much of a hurry. He was called a "clown"
in the London Observer, and "Stalin-like" in the New York Herald
Tribune', The New York Times made his 1961 proclamation of compulsory
education appear to have been a totalitarian act. Yet, to interpret
Nkrumah as a ruthless totalitarian leader -a kind of sub-Saharan
Hitler-is to misunderstand both the sources and the loss of his power.
Seeds of Change
Ghana was neither a terrorized nor a poverty-stricken country. In
traveling overland to Accra from francophone Africa, for example, two
things were striking: the visible wealth of Ghana, and the visible
breadth of its distribution. The number of cars, the condition of
residential areas, roads, restaurants, shops, markets, office
buildings, and department stores-and the widespread use of these
facilities by Africans, not just the European commercial and technical
elites- produced the image of a far from destitute country. Beneath the
surface there were chronic periodic shortages of many imported goods,
including basic foodstuffs, and mounting inflation.
Civil liberties were in a chaotic condition marked by the dismissal of
judges and the retrial of cases which resulted in verdicts unfavorable
to Nkrumah. The abuses of preventive detention and the outlawing of
opposition parties were notorious. To assert, however, that the mass of
the people lived in terror would be quite wrong. The commonly accepted
estimate of the number of Nkrumah's political prisoners is 1,100, and
reports of individual beatings by prison guards may well be believed.
On the other hand, credible evidence of systematic torture has yet to
be produced, and though the old regime sentenced several people to
death for participating in one of the assassination plots, no one in
Ghana appears to have been executed for a political crime.
In these circumstances, a mass revolt against tyranny or impoverishment
was unlikely, and to suggest that the Army intervened only when the
government had begun to lose control of the "forces of discontent"
explains little. Every African country harbors similar discontents
arising from unemployment, low wages, and economic and social
disparities. The Army is said to have chafed at Nkrumah's non-military
decision to ask the USSR to train and equip one part of its forces, and
Britain and the Commonwealth the other part. Another irritant was
Nkrumah's proposal to create a "People's Militia" that would be
separate from the Army, and hence a potential threat to the Army's
authority and its share of the annual budget. Colonel E. K. Kotoka,
commander of the second army brigade at Kumasi and leader of the coup,
announced on the day of the takeover that the Army was motivated by
Ghana's serious economic and political situation. It was unthinkable,
he said on Radio Accra, that Ghana's economy had developed in the last
three years at a rate of only three percent per annum, given its vast
potentialities. He accused Nkrumah of running Ghana as his personal
property and bringing the country to the "brink of bankruptcy." He
promised a sweeping revision of economic, financial, and political
affairs that would include a constitutional referendum on a new system
of government based on the separation of powers, and a reversal of
Ghana's mounting economic dependence on the Communist world.
The military regime quickly announced that it would redirect trade
toward the West, make no new barter agreements, curtail Communist aid,
reverse Nkrumah's, long march toward "scientific socialism," outlaw the
ruling Convention People's Party (CPP) and all other political
activities, and eventually return Ghana to civilian rule. The Soviet,
East German, and Chinese technicians were asked to leave. At the Army's
request, senior civil servants took charge of all ministries and the
provincial administrations, and eight of them issued a statement in
support of the new regime.
Taming the Opposition
The Army's seizure of power was the climax of a long sequence of
changes in Ghana's society and governmental system. Ghana has undergone
a very rapid evolution in which the Convention People's Party, which
brought the country to independence in 1957, continued to govern in the
post-independence period, while successfully overcoming opposition from
distinctly different sources. Before Ghana became self-governing, the
issues were the pace of advance to independence, and who would control
the government at this critical transition point; deep conflicts arose
over the purpose and nature of every significant governmental
institution.
As far back as 1954, the particularistic National Liberation Movement
in Ashanti and the cocoa growers had found common cause in opposing the
growing influence of the "coastal modernizers' The Ashanti-cocoa grower
nucleus attracted other interest groups, among them the Togoland
Congress and the Northern People's Party. The British-sponsored
constitutional instrument drafted just prior to independence in 1957
sought to accommodate these forces in a semi-federal system, but the
post-independence government did not wait long to adopt a hard line
toward them. It repealed the constitutional provisions that encouraged
regionalism, passed legislation against regional and tribal political
parties, and compelled the opposition forces to recombine in a national
organization which in fact incorporated regionalism under a different
name.
After 1957, the only opposition group with a significant mass following
was the United Party, a coalition of disparate ethnic and religious
interests joined principally by their resistance to the unifying
policies of the CPP. This original anti-Nkrumah group was founded with
the blessing of the Asantehene, traditional leader of the Ashanti, soon
after the passage in 1954 of legislation reducing the government price
for cocoa and thus increasing the amount of money available for
government development schemes. The names of the five groups that
composed the United Party are indicative of the interests involved: the
National Liberation Movement (itself a coalition of anti-CPP
interests), the Northern People's Party, the Moslem Association Party,
the Togoland Congress Party, and the Ga Shifimo Kpee. The old
middle-class intellectuals-the doctors and lawyers who had advised the
colonial administration and were the first moderate reformers-were also
opposed to the CPP's policies of socialization, and still resentful of
having been pushed aside by the more vigorous young nationalists.
Combined, these forces were a powerful movement for the redress of
individual grievances, and the strong traditional loyalties attaching
to the Asantehene, plus the organizational and theoretical ability of
the intellectuals, enabled the party to attract a mass following.
None of the groups embraced in the United Party thought primarily in
terms of national unity or orderly economic development based on a mass
mobilization of the people. The cocoa farmers were unwilling to
postpone immediate consumption for enforced savings; at most, they held
that funds not paid directly to them should be invested in their local
area, and not spread thinly over the country to be used to the
advantage of "foreigners." Tribal leaders, who at one time were willing
to hand over the government to freely elected representatives and admit
that they had no place in party politics, were encouraged by their
alliance with the cocoa farmers to revive their aspirations to a share
of power. The opposition platform advocated a complex system of
federation in which regional governments were to assume most of the
powers of the central government. Traditional leaders were not only to
head each region, but were also to dominate the cabinet and the upper
house of a bicameral parliament. Most significantly, these officials
would not be elected, but would rule by virtue of their ancient
positions; only the lower house was to be chosen by universal suffrage.
Revenue for the federal government was to be derived from limited
sources, and a broad-based tax prohibited.
Nothing could have been more irritating to the CPP. Federation would
strengthen tribalism and virtually stifle economic development, and
Nkrumah accordingly considered the United Party's proposals a
fundamental challenge to the system of government. Western standards of
secular government, he believed, could not accommodate the divisive
loyalties commanded by "uneducated and parochial minded" tribal
leaders. Loyalty to the Asantehene meant focusing on the past and
Ashanti, instead of looking to the future and the nation. Chieftancy
might be exalted as a monument to Ghana's proud African heritage, but
it could not be allowed to play an active role in contemporary politics.
At stake were opposing philosophies of government. In view of the
latter-day cynicism of the Nkrumah regime, it may well be difficult to
recall the moral fervor of the time. Followers of the CPP were
convinced that they were fighting not for selfish interests, but for
the creation of a national society. Because they could not agree on
basic ends, the antagonists sought victory through intense conflict
rather than compromise; and because the CPP saw the traditional
interests (which would grow fat on cocoa surpluses while others went
hungry) as a national menace, it believed that harsh repression was
morally justified and socially necessary.
Among the first people thrown into jail under the Preventive Detention
Law were wealthy Ashanti cocoa farmers, anti-government intellectuals,
and tribal leaders who wished to subordinate the disciplines of
economic development to the interests of a weak federation based on an
indirect electoral system that would favor the traditionalists. This
original opposition challenged the authority of the government, and the
structure and polity of the state itself.
To cope with an opposition that threatened the unity of the state and
widespread public disorder that included assassinations and bombings,
the government resorted to a series of repressive measures,
deportations, arrests, censorship, and overt intimidation. For the most
part, these acts were directed at limited political objectives, and in
the circumstances some of the measures were obviously needed. Moreover,
for an understanding of the recent coup d'etat, it is important to note
that the government's actions were not altogether arbitrary, but were
sanctioned by law. Each of the legal measures was approved by a
popularly elected parliament and was accepted by the elements in the
governing groups, as well as by many of the bureaucrats and
technicians. Increasingly, however, the government enacted capricious
and arbitrary laws marking a sharp departure from the standards of
rationality established by the British Colonial Service, and from the
standards of the revolution itself.
At the same time, the government was installing the machinery of
coercion. It obtained an increasing number of anti-riot vehicles and
other quasi-military hardware, enlarged the police force, established a
reserve army, and organized a secret service. Again, given the
circumstances, these measures seemed not unreasonable. The net result,
however, was the strengthening of an institution - the Army - that
proved lethal to the regime that nurtured it. This history
differentiates the Army of Ghana from the armed forces of most other
African states, and provides the context for the coup d'etat.
As the clash of political objectives drove the CPP to greater militancy
against the United Party, the opposition in turn was compelled to
reassess and eventually modify its position. It dropped the issue of
federation and began for the first time to place a high value on
parliamentary institutions within a unified Ghana as a forum for the
expression of its demands. Chiefs abandoned their interference in
secular life. Economic development was universally accepted as the
major objective of all social groups. Where once Nkrumah stood almost
alone in arguing that "progress could be measured by the number of
children in school, the quality of their education, the availability of
water and electricity, and the control of sickness," these goals became
the aspiration of the whole society. Long before the end of the regime,
large numbers of traditional notables had joined the CPP, taken their
seats in many councils, and proved themselves flexible enough lo become
influential and persuasive spokesmen. The drawing of new boundaries lo
the political arena was perhaps Nkrumah's major accomplishment.
Cracks in the Consensus
In September 1961, hundreds of workers went on strike, and a
qualitatively different kind of opposition began to arise in the ranks
of organized labor. Originating among the harbor and railway workers in
Takoradi, the walkouts spread to the industrial and commercial workers
in Sekondi and Kumasi. Municipal transport employees in Accra soon
joined the movement, and workers staged brief sympathy strikes
throughout western Ghana. The walkouts were essentially a protest
against government austerity measures that reduced the average worker's
buying power by raising the cost of basic imports dramatically, almost
overnight. Clothing and shoes rose by a third, and food prices soared
as transportation costs increased. To forestall inflation, the
government lightened existing controls on wages, and imposed a
compulsory savings scheme by which five percent was deducted from all
wages and salaries in excess of £120 a year, and invested in
interest-bearing development bonds.
The strikers ignored back-to-work appeals from their union leaders as
well as from the government, which came under heavy fire not only from
the formal opposition but also from loyal CPP supporters who ordinarily
looked to Nkrumah for leadership. The strike thus marked the beginning
of a different type of opposition from within the government's own
ranks. It touched the heart of its mass support in the coastal cities
where the strikers had earlier endorsed the government and its policies
by large majorities. This new opposition sought some compromises and
modifications of the program for reaching the goals they had already
agreed on, though they did not challenge the goals themselves.
When the government imprisoned the leaders of the strike, thus adding a
new category of prisoners held under the Preventive Detention laws, the
CPP appeared to be on the threshold of a, period of violence and terror
in which The government turned against its own| mass base and
suppressed The very people who had brought it to power. In an earlier
day this possibility would have been academic, for the government did
not command sufficient instruments of repression to dismember the old,
semi-feudal opposition by force. By 1961 however, the coercive
apparatus of the state had increased enormously in strength, and there
was a wing within the ruling party that urged its use.
A showdown was avoided as the government retreated from the system of
compulsory savings, and a return to normality seemed to follow. Behind
the facade, however, the strikers had revealed not only a growing
discontent with the government's austerity measures (which had indeed
been anticipated), but also the extent lo which the trade union leaders
were acting as tools for the CPP and the state.
Meanwhile, the influence of the CPP's militant wing was shown in
attempts to intensify the ideological indoctrination of the people
and the key elites. Several new doctrinaire journals were
established; the Kwame Nkrumah Ideological Institute was opened at
Winneba, and an effort was made lo reorient the university along
ideological lines. Soviet, Chinese, arid East German technicians began
to arrive in increasing numbers; trade with the Eastern bloc was
increased, sometimes under disadvantageous conditions; attacks against
United States policies became increasingly vituperative, and the
ideological theme shifted from an emphasis of the uniqueness of the
African personality to the universal applicability of scientific
socialism. Most important of all, economic decisions apparently came to
be made primarily on the basis of ideological factors rather than
economic Calculations. The expenditure of millions on a convention hall
or an Olympic sports center, and the decisions to continue losing money
on an airline or unprofitable factories, or in disadvantageous barter
deals with the USSR, were justified in terms of a certain political
calculus. These apparently self-defeating choices can be viewed as
highly rational in the perspective of men who believed strongly in
building African unity and scientific socialism in a short time.
Granting that millions were spent on prestige projects, the key
question remains unanswered: what percentage of the government's total
expenditure did these projects represent? The assertion that Nkrumah
brought Ghana to the verge of bankruptcy does not take into sufficient
account the catastrophic drop in the price of cocoa on the world
market, and ignores long-range, highly productive projects, such as the
Volta development scheme, which are coming to fruition years ahead of
schedule, but which had until now been a drain on the economy. It turns
a blind eye to what Ghana got for its money: an extended life
expectancy from fundamental improvements in medical services,
nutrition, and hygiene; a huge educational system serving a larger
percentage of school age children than in any other Black African
country; the creation of thousands of jobs; and an economy at the
threshold of self-sustaining development.
Nkrumah and the militants of the CPP would argue that these
accomplishments were achieved not despite, but because of, political
persuasion and manipulation and an ideology to guide the selection of
objectives and strategies. To them, independence from the British,
unity within the state, and financing for the Volta project were
equally political objects. They believed that without a sound
"ideological" and "political" foundation, Ghana could not hope to
prosper.
Alienation of Peasants and Bureaucrats
It is well known that the ideological militancy of the regime was
accompanied by corruption. The effects of corruption were felt deep in
the bush, where the peasantry accepted Nkrumah's overthrow for reasons
far removed from the policy questions that seem to have motivated the
military. People in the bush know whether a regime is corrupt. The
peasant is rightly suspicious, for there is always some doubt as to the
social consequences of any innovation. After he has spent six to nine
months hoeing, sowing, weeding, and harvesting a crop of maize, cocoa,
cotton, or peanuts, what must he feel-a man who has never been lo town
-as he holds for the first time a few banknotes in his hand and watches
the truck with his stuffed sacks trundle down the road-to where?
Ultimately, corruption in an underdeveloped country operates to milk
the peasant. The salaries of functionaries and politicians, who arc the
best organized interests in the society, tend to be downwardly
inflexible, but peasants, to the extent that they are engaged in a
market economy, have a minimum of economic resources and organizational
skills, and are highly vulnerable to economic exploitation. Corruption
poisons the atmosphere; the government loses authority as enclaves of
power are established in urban areas where a small. Westernized elite
holds a monopoly of influence. In such a situation, the peasants always
oppose the regime - or more precisely, they are increasingly separated
from it. To avoid unnecessarily alienating the peasantry is one of the
principal reasons that Communist regimes are notorious for their
puritanism.
Whether corruption is equivalent to waste depends on the type of social
system in which it occurs, for it may serve functionally to keep
certain elites and classes satisfied. If assuaging such interests is a
necessary consideration, then corruption may be the least painful
(because it is the most indirect) method of achieving stability. From
the perspective of economic development, however, corruption
perpetuates stagnation by cur tailing capital, and robs the government
of its political persuasiveness and moral authority. The technical
knowledge necessary for the introduction of scientific agriculture is a
monopoly of the educated government intelligentsia. To educate the
peasant involves convincing the peasant to listen and to do a great
many things that seem unnatural and threatening. Leadership of this
kind is possible only when there is moral authority, not simply force,
and this is true no matter how knowledgeable the technician.
As corruption was alienating the peasants in Ghana, it was also
arousing resentment among the civil servants and technicians who worked
with the peasants in the back country. Their task of inducing the
peasantry to accept modern agricultural techniques became increasingly
difficult in proportion to the government's loss of credibility among
the rural masses. The alienation of both groups in turn affected what
the French call encadrement - that is, the reorganization of the
populace into a social structure that makes the resources of the
community available for economic development. Encadrement was not only
the next logical step following the government's defeat of semi-feudal
rural interests; it was also essential if unfulfilled material
ambitions - the so-called revolution of rising expectations-were to be
satisfied in the country at large.
The unsolved problem of restructuring the rural society was a basic
issue underlying Nkrumah's ouster. On the one hand, the government
could choose among a variety of ideological solutions ranging through
Chinese communalization to Moshavism or laissez-faire capitalism. On
the other hand, the problem could be viewed simply as a technical
exercise in maximizing output. Militants within the ruling party, the
press, radio, youth organizations, and trade unions pressed for an
ideological solution. Opposing them were the "technocrats," who
included members of the higher civil service.
Two things distinguished the technocrats from the nucleus of civil
servants carried over from pre-independence days. First, their large
numbers: the government acquired thousands of employees as it
Africanized the administrative structure, extended its services from
the large cities to millions of people in the bush, and undertook
sweeping programs of welfare and economic development, instead of
confining itself (as did the colonial administration) to the household
tasks of maintaining peace, order, and a system of justice.
A second distinction is their awareness of membership in a technocratic
elite. From the apolitical British tradition, in which neutrality is a
source of pride and effectiveness is conceived as a concomitant of
non-involvement, the newcomers to Ghana's bureaucracy slowly developed
an awareness of a collective interest distinct from the interests of
the politicians, who, in the British tradition, were entitled to make
policy. By their style of dress, patterns of speech, education,
training, vocabulary - and by the images in their heads, their
attitudes toward economic development, political goals, and methods of
governing - the administrative elite can be distinguished from the
political elite. They found Nkrumah's personality cult objectionable,
and the servile flattery bestowed on him in many quarters demoralizing,
because it clashed with the tastes and traditions of the civil servant.
This is not to say that the technocratic elite, a bulwark of the new
military government, is democratic. The men most deeply concerned with
economic development have a manipulative attitude toward the rural
groups with whom they work. They make no hortatory appeals to the
crowd-a major distinction between the technocrats and the ousted
politicians. Their approach is that of the social worker to his
culturally and educationally deprived brethren. They appeal to the
villagers' "home-town spirit" and "reason" with them until they accept
previously decided projects, then reward the village with a ceremony
attended by the local notables and honored by greetings from national
officials. In going about their work, the civil servants make little
effort to identify with the villagers; rather, they attempt to persuade
the villagers that they, as technicians, can be of use by virtue of
their unique knowledge and skills. Nor, in Nkrumah's day, did they make
an effort to identify themselves to the people as party members. They
often cooperated with the party, particularly in local community
development projects, and some indeed were card-carrying members of the
CPP. But when they joined the party, they did so because membership was
useful to their careers, not out of political conviction.
These functionaries are little interested in ideology or
indoctrination. They brush aside questions on socialism or the African
personality, preferring to discuss their programs in terms of specific
goals and rational techniques to meet them. They judge their
accomplishments objectively and honestly, and readily admit mistakes.
In sum, their efforts are directed toward the creation of a social
system based on rational calculations demanding predictability and
regularity in the conduct of affairs. By their attitudes, training, and
objectives, they consider themselves a class apart from the politicians
as well as from the people-a purposeful class that knows how to get a
job done, if left alone to do it. Perhaps their biggest complaint was
that Nkrumah's government did not always consider their work important
enough. Their budget requests were often cut, their resources limited,
and their advice rejected; worst of all, the government made decisions
on the basis of criteria they could not accept, on the counsel of
ideologues they could not tolerate.
The Army Holds the Bag
Ghana's real problem on the eve of the coup was deeper than the threat
of bankruptcy, for national productivity was still increasing as the
economy began to unlock its potential. A more basic issue was the
system of decision-making legitimated by Nkrumah, for which he was held
personally responsible by the bureaucratic elites. Nkrumah saw himself
in the historically appointed task of "sweeping away the fetters on
production", eliminating "feudal elements," and "neocolonialism," so
that the "productive forces of society could be liberated." Ironically,
the new technicians, though they use a different vocabulary, see
themselves as performing the identical tasks, freeing the economy from
the waste and inefficiency spawned by wayward ideologists and corrupt
politicians. In their eyes, Nkrumah had become the chief fetter on the
forces of production.
In many respects, the Army and police are also bureaucracies, their
officers sharing many of the attitudes and concerns of the civil
service. Unlike politicians, neither the army officers nor the
bureaucrats include the art of persuasion in their usual kit of tools.
To govern, however, it is not enough to be "modern-minded" and
incorruptible. The value of the politician lies in his ability to
manipulate opposing factions, and thus mitigate conflict through
compromise. In the absence of the politician's special skill, Ghana's
military government may turn ineluctably to the use of authoritarian
measures, a tendency that would be reinforced by the paternalistic
attitudes of the technocrats.
The regime's general prohibition of political activity and membership
in the Convention People's Party raises the fundamental issue: how to
avoid a gulf between the government and the governed that would compel
the regime to use increasing force to remain in power. The CPP was a
mass party with tens of thousands of members. For the Army to reform
the party is one thing, but to eliminate it altogether is to burn the
bridges between the citizens and the state. Moreover, the National
Liberation Council is heir to the economic frustrations and unfulfilled
popular aspirations of the previous regime. The experiences of military
governments in the Sudan, Burma, and several Latin American countries
suggest that neither the Army nor the bureaucracy can move far toward
fulfilling popular aspirations in Ghana without some form of mass
support. Since the regime cannot maintain itself in power indefinitely
without a social base, to whom will it turn?
Other recent moves cast additional light on the political complexion of
the new regime. Communist aid technicians have been ousted from the
country; trade patterns with the East are being revised; the end of
"disastrous" scientific socialism has been proclaimed; the regime has
jailed several militant intellectuals; the Asantehene and traditional
chiefs have declared their allegiance; and the very name of the
National Liberation Council recalls the name of a former conservative
opposition group, the National Liberation Movement. By themselves these
actions are not conclusive evidence of the nature of the regime. One
could reasonably assume, for example, that any of these moves could
have occurred without demolishing the original framework of government
established by Nkrumah and the CPP.
They assume a different aspect when viewed in context of the regime's
announcement on February 26 that the new constitution of Ghana is to
establish a government based on the separation of powers. The proposal
of a system in which "sovereign powers of the state are judiciously
shared among . . . the legislature, the executive, and the judiciary"
was of course inspired by the constitution of the United States; but
Ghana resembles neither the US today nor the 13 original states of
1787. In the revolutionary American colonies, the separation of powers
was designed not only to ensure personal freedoms, but also to
establish a "negative" government without a social program and endowed
only with limited authority. The system was intended to inhibit the
formation of a tyrannous majority by deliberately pitting faction
against faction; it recognized the existence of antagonistic interests,
and institutionalized them in the government itself.
A formal separation of governmental powers in Ghana would not
necessarily mean that the government will be unable to assert authority
in the hinterland. Nevertheless, to weaken the powers of the central
government in a country where the countervailant forces are hostile to
the state is to engage in an experiment that could imperil national
unity and slow the pace of economic development. A revival or
institutionalization of regional, tribal, and class interests would
alter the evolution of Ghanaian society, and jeopardize the continued
existence of either democracy or stability. If that prospect came to
pass, who would then mourn the passing of the "clown"?
See also: The Men
in Charge
Africa 1966
