Warlike Character

The number of weapons in use is difficult to harmonise with the gentle character belonging to most Polynesian tribes. Yet the predominance of militarism is not everywhere merely apparent. The Fijian cannot be described as fundamentally warlike by nature, yet the entire archipelago is seldom free from war. It lies in their circumstances and usages, and is the simple consequence of their numerous independent lordships. A phenomenon no more unusual than the cackling of hens by night, is regarded as a warlike prognostic, whereas in Europe we at least allow ourselves the time which elapses between one comet and another. In Polynesia some races are more warlike than others; the Maoris might be called the Zulus or Apaches of Polynesia. War, as a necessity, passes like a red, very red thread, through the whole life of Marquesans, Tahitians, and Gilbert Islanders. The military renown of the small Paumotu Islands was such that Tahitian chiefs fetched mercenaries thence.

Fijian warrior. (From the Godeffroy Album.)

The very narrowness of the space contributed to develop such conditions; the smaller the states the more embittered and unconciliatory their politics. An inexhaustible source of hostilities is an accusation on the part of one family group that another has done despite or injury to their dead; breach of promise of marriage is another. Therewith naturally the general prosperity suffers, not only that of natives but also of foreign settlers, so that it has always been the effort of the missionaries to bring about a union of the different districts. But it has been in vain; the tendency to small states had sealed the ruin of Polynesia long before the people had thought about European culture and the excess of it. Herein lies one of the impediments which has compelled the roots of Polynesian culture to spread laterally instead of vertically; we need only think of the way in which the New Zealanders have split up.

To the frequency of wars conduced also the standing organisations of the military character. Kamehameha I. founded a special army the name of which was "eating on foot"; that is, always ready for battle. In the Society Islands and elsewhere, a warrior caste existed as a permanent suite to the chiefs. In every district may be found a village whose inhabitants possess the right in war time of opening the battle. The post in the vanguard is highly esteemed as a post of honour, since it secures a special authority in times of peace and a conspicuous share in all festive enjoyments. On all the great islands there are specially warlike tribes, - on the north coast of New Guinea the Mansuari, in Fiji men who adopt a celibate life.

The very frequency of naval wars gives rise to a certain organisation, since the guidance of the war-canoes can only be entrusted to practised hands. In sea encounters, boats which belong together are indicated by some common sign - a bundle of palm leaves, a strip of tapa, or a picture of an animal on the same material. In just the same way people fighting on land wear some sign by which they may be recognised, and these are changed every two or three days in order to avoid ruses on the part of the enemy. They paint particular figures upon their bodies in black, white, or red, wear a shell round the neck or the arm, or dress their hair in some peculiar way.

Casus Belli

But in their opinion every war has sufficient ground; battle is to them the best solution of a mass of contested questions, and their final arbiter is the god of war. Violations of the rights of property, annexation of land, fishing and hunting in disputed districts lead to wars, still more do violations of taboo, marriages between persons belonging to hostile tribes, murder, adultery, witchcraft, and, most frequently of all, personal insults and blood feuds. Whole generations labour to wash away spots on the honour of their forefathers, while to nourish the sentiment of revenge is one of a chief's first duties. The Navigator's Islands testify that envy of the success of a peacefully working tribe may contribute its fair share to the kindling of ever new wars. That among the causes of war women have their place can be all the more understood from the fact that a fundamental rule is "Once a chief's wife always his wife." Wars of succession are also recorded.

Lastly, a further ground of quarrels is to be found in the complicated feudal relations. Connected with this is the fact that in kingdoms so small as these all personal relations are thought more of than would be the case in larger states, to which further importance is given by the manner in which social ties are indebted for their vitality to the half monarchical, half oligocratic constitution, so that the dissolution of personal relations must also, as observed by Semper, relax the political relation of states to each other. It is in the nature of these people neither to break wholly with each other nor to unite with each other frankly. What prevails is neither open war nor undoubted peace; small causes are sufficient to evoke a tendency in one or the other direction.

In Polynesia war is conducted with formalities no less strict than those which govern peaceful intercourse, and within their limits it often proceeds in a fairly harmless manner. As a chronic evil it became converted into a settled institution. Head-stealing is partly the object, partly the symbol of warfare. It can never degenerate into aimless murder; and it is rarely that more than one man is killed. Both sides know quite well what is taking place, and cunning on one side is met by precaution and indefatigable vigilance on the other. This kind of warfare is recognised by the Micronesians as a chief institution of their political life, for the further reason that it is essential to the provision of means for meeting state-expenditure. The head chief pays with his own money. He has considerable outgoings at his accession, and must defray those of all the muis, ruks, and other festivities. But the country pays no taxes, and the expenses must be met somehow. That is the use of the war-dance. The head chief travels through friendly districts with a head which his warriors have secured, executes the war-dance, and receives for the performance a fee proportionate to the size of the country. But, in order to prevent too great a drain of money in any one direction, the rule is that when one village has finished with the head, another has a turn with it. Thus, though by a somewhat unusual method, the very usual object of keeping money in circulation is attained.

Head-hunting is common in New Guinea, as, for example, among the Tugeris, who cut off the head with a bamboo knife; and so too in the Malay Archipelago. Among the Motus he only who has killed a man may wear the half-skull of a horn-bill in his hair. A woman will do; and there is no objection to the employment of treachery.

Unluckily, where things are on a smaller scale, as in the Marshalls, war degenerates into an incessant devastation of fields and plantations. It is therefore easy to understand why bullet-proof houses of stone are supplanting huts of wood and straw. There is nothing about which the gods are so keen as war: nor is anything an occasion of larger sacrifices. Before coming to blows with men, it is necessary to come to an understanding with the gods. Temples half buried in weeds are tidied up or rebuilt. The greater the sacrifice, the firmer is the confidence. Among the Maoris the priests had to decide whether or not the war will be victorious. Sticks were stuck in the earth, and if they remained upright it denoted a loss, and the war was deferred. In other cases food was cooked for the gods and the fighting-men; then the troops started, followed by slaves and women, who had to attend to transport and commissariat.