46.
MELANESIAN RELIGION1
ByR. H.n/aCODRINGTONn/an/an/an/a
The religion of the Melanesians is the expression of their
conception of the supernatural, and embraces a very wide range of beliefs
and practices, the limits of which it would be very difficult to define.
It is equally difficult to ascertain with precision what these beliefs are.
The ideas of the natives are not clear upon many points, they are not
accustomed to present them in any systematic form among themselves. An
observer who should set himself the task of making systematic enquiries,
must find himself baffled at the outset by the multiplicity of the
languages with which he has to deal. Suppose him to have as a medium of
communication a language which he and those from whom he seeks
information can use freely for the ordinary purposes of life, he finds that
to fail when he seeks to know what is the real meaning of those expressions
which his informant must needs use in his own tongue, because he knows no
equivalent for them in the common language which is employed. Or if he
gives what he supposes to be an equivalent, it will often happen that he
and the enquirer do not understand that word in the same sense. A
missionary has his own difficulty in the fact that very much of his
communication is with the young, who do not themselves know and
understand very much of what their elders believe and practice. Converts
are disposed to blacken generally and indiscriminately their own former
state, and with greater zeal the present practises of others. There are
some things they are really ashamed to speak of; and there are others which
they think they ought to consider wrong, because they are associated in
their memory with what they know to be really bad. Many a native Christian
will roundly condemn native songs and dances, who, when questions begin to
clear his mind, acknowledges that some dances are quite innocent, explains
that none that he knows have any religious significance whatever, says th
at many songs also have nothing whatever bad in them, and writes out one or
two as examples. Natives who are still heathen will speak with reserve of
what still retains with them a sacred character, and a considerate
missionary will respect such reserve; if he should not respect it the
native may very likely fail in his respect for him, and amuse himself at
his expense. Few missionaries have time to make systematic enquiries; if
they do, they are likely to make them too soon,
and for the whole of their after-career make whatever they observe fit
into their early scheme of the native religion. Often missionaries, it is
to be feared, so manage it that neither they nor the first generation of
their converts really know what the old religion of the native people was.
There is always with missionaries the difficulty of language; a man may
speak a native language every day for years and have reason to believe he
speaks it well, but it will argue ill for his real acquaintance with it if
he does not find out that he makes mistakes, Resident traders, if
observant, are free from some of a missionary’s difficulties; but they
have their own. The ’pigeon English,’ which is sure
to come in, carries its own deceits; ’plenty devil’ serves to
convey much information; a chief’s grave is ’devil stones,’
the dancing ground of a village is a ’devil ground,’ the drums
are idols, a dancing club is a ’devil stick.’2 The
most intelligent travellers and naval officers pass their short period of
observation in this atmosphere of confusion. Besides, every one, missionary
and visitor, carries with him some preconceived ideas; he expects to see
idols, and be sees them; images are labelled idols in museums whose makers
carved them for amusement; a Solomon islander fashions the head of his
lime-box stick into a grotesque figure, and it becomes the subject of a
woodcut as ’a Solomon Island god.’ It is extremely difficult for
any one to begin enquiries without some prepossessions, which, even if he
can communicate with the natives in their own language, affect his
conceptions of the meaning of the answers he receives. The questions he
puts guide the native to the answer he thinks he ought to give. The native,
with very vague beliefs and noti ons floating in cloudy solution in his
mind, finds in the questions of the European a thread on which these will
precipitate themselves, and, without any intention to deceive, avails
himself of the opportunity to clear his own mind while he satisfies the
questioner.
Some such statement as this of the difficulties in the way of a certain
knowledge of the subject is a necessary introduction to the account
which is given here of the religion of the Melanesians; and it
is desirable that the writer should disclaim pretentions to accuracy or
completeness. The general view which is presented must be taken with the
particular examples of Melanesian belief and customs in matters of religion
which follow.
(1) The Melanesian mind is entirely possessed by the belief in a
supernatural power or influence, called almost universally
mana.3 This is what works to effect everything
which is beyond the ordinary power of men, outside the common processes of
nature; it is present in the atmosphere of life, attaches itself to persons
and to things, and is manifested by results which can only be ascribed to
its operation. When one has got it he can use it and direct it, but its
force may break forth at some new point; the presence of it is ascertained
by proof. A man comes by chance upon a stone which takes his fancy; its
shape is singular, it is like something, it is certainly not a common
stone, there must be mana in it. So he argues with himself, and he
puts it to the proof; he lays it at the root of a tree to the fruit of
which it has a certain resemblance, or he buries it in the ground when he
plants his garden; an abundant crop on the tree or in the garden shews that
he is right, the stone is mana,4 has that power
in it. Having that power it is a vehicle to convey mana to other
stones. In the same way certain forms of words, generally in the form of a
song, have power for certain purposes; a charm of words is called a
mana. But this power, though itself impersonal, is always
connected with some person who directs it; all spirits have it, ghosts
generally, some men. If a stone is found to have supernatural power, it
is because a spirit has associated itself with it; a dead man’s bone
has with
it mann, because the ghost is with the bone; a man may have so
close a connexion with a spirit or ghost that he has mana in himself
also, and can so direct it as to effect what he desires; a charm is
powerful because the name of a spirit or ghost expressed in the form of
words brings into it the power which the ghost or spirit exercises through
it. Thus all conspicuous success is a proof that a man has mana; his
influence depends on the impression made on the people’s mind that he
has it; he becomes a chief by virtue of it. Hence a man’s power, though
political or social in its character, is his mana; the word is
naturally used in accordance with the native conception of the character of
all power and influence as supernatural. If a man has been successful in
fighting, it has not been his natural strength of arm, quickness of eye, or
readiness of resource that has won success; he has certainly got the
mana of a spirit or of some deceased warrior to empower him,
conveyed in an amulet of a stone round his neck, or a tuft of leaves in his
belt, in a tooth hung upon a finger of his bow hand, or in the form of
words with which he brings supernatural assistance to his side. If a
man’s pigs multiply, and his gardens are productive, it is not because
he is industrious and looks after his property, but because of the stones
full of mana for pigs and yams that he possesses. Of course a yam
naturally grows when planted, that is well known, but it will not be very
large unless mana comes into play; a canoe will not be swift unless
mana be brought to bear upon it, a net will not catch many fish, nor
an arrow inflict a mortal wound.
(2) The Melanesians believe in the existence of beings personal,
intelligent, full of mana, with a certain bodily form which is
visible but not fleshly like the bodies of men. These they think to be more
or less actively concerned in the affairs of men, and they invoke and
otherwise approach them. These may be called spirits; but it is most
important to distinguish between spirits who are beings of an order higher
than mankind, and the disembodied spirits of men, which have become in
the vulgar sense of the word ghosts. From the neglect of this distinction
great confusion and misunderstanding arises; and it is much to be desired
that missionaries at any rate would carefully observe the distinction. Any
personal object of Worship among natives in all parts of the world is taken
by the European observer to be a spirit or a god, or a devil; but among
Melanesians at any rate it is very common to invoke departed relatives and
friends, and to use religious rites addressed to them. A man therefore who
is approaching with some rite his dead father, whose spirit he believes to
be existing and pleased with his pious action, is thought to be worshipping
a false god or deceiving spirit, and very probably is told that the being
he worships does not exist. The perplexed native hears with one ear that
there is no such thing as that departed spirit of a man which he venerates
as a ghost but his instructor takes to be a god, and with the other that
the soul never dies, and that his own
spiritual interests are paramount and eternal. They themselves make a
clear distinction between the existing, conscious, powerful, disembodied
spirits of the dead, and other spiritual beings that never have been men at
all. It is true that the two orders of beings get confused in native
language and thought, but their confusion begins at one end and the
confusion of their visitors at another; they think so much and constantly
of ghosts that they speak of beings who were never men as ghosts; Europeans
take the spirits of the lately dead for gods; less educated Europeans call
them roundly devils. All Melanesians, as far as my acquaintance with them
extends, believe in the existence both of spirits that never were men, and
of ghosts which are the disembodied souls of men deceased: to preserve as
far as possible this distinction, the supernatural beings that were never
in a human body are here called spirits, men’s spirits that have
left the body are called ghosts.
There is, however, a very remarkable difference between the
natives of the New Hebrides and Banks’ Islands to the east, and the
natives of the Solomon Islands to the west; the direction of the religious
ideas and practices of the former is towards spirits rather than ghosts,
the latter pay very little attention to spirits and address themselves
almost wholly to ghosts. This goes with a much greater development of a
sacrificial system in the west than in the east; and goes along also with a
certain advance in the arts of life. Enough is hardly known of the Santa
Cruz people, who lie between, to speak with certainty, but they appear to
range themselves, as they rather do geographically, on the side of the
Solomon Islands. In Fiji it is the established custom to call the objects
of the old worship gods; but Mr. Fison was ’inclined to think all the
spiritual beings of Fiji, including the gods, simply the Mota
tamate,’ i.e., ghosts; and the words of Mr. Hazelwood, quoted
by Mr. Brenchley (Cruise of the Curaçoa, p. 181), confirm this view.
Tuikilakila told one of the first missionaries how he proposed to treat
him. ’If you die first,’ said he, ’I shall make you my
god.’ And the same Tuikilakila would sometimes say of himself, ’I
am a god.’ It is added that he believed it too; and his belief was
surely correct. For it should be observed that the chief never said he was
or should be a god, in English, but that he was or should be a kalou,
in Fijian, and a kalou he no doubt became; that is to say, on
his decease his departed spirit was invoked and worshipped as he knew it
would be. He used no verb ’am’ or ’shall be’; said only
’I a kalou.’ In Fiji also this worship of the dead rather
than of beings that never were in the flesh, accompanies a more
considerable advance in the arts of life than is found in, for example,
the Banks’ Islands. It is plain that the natives of the southern
islands of the New Hebrides, though they are said to worship
’gods,’ believe in the existence and power of spirits other than
the disembodied spirits of the dead, as well as of the ghosts of men.
When a missionary visitor to Anaiteum reported that the people ’lived
under the
most abject bondage to their Natmases,’ and called these
’gods,’ he was evidently speaking of the ghosts, the Natmat
of the Banks’ Islands, for the word is no doubt the same. The
belief in other spirits not ghosts of the dead, appears equally clear in
the account given of the sacred stones and places, which correspond to
those of the northern islands of the same group, and in the ’minor
deities’ said to be the progeny of Nugerain, and called ’gods of
the sea, of the land, of mountains and valleys,’ who represent the
wui of Lepers’ Island and Araga. There does not appear to be
anywhere in Melanesia a belief in a spirit which animates any natural
object, a tree, waterfall, storm or rock, so as to be to it what the soul
is believed to be to the body of a man. Europeans it is true speak of the
spirits of the sea or of the storm or of the forest; but the native idea
which they represent is that ghosts haunt the sea and the forest, having
power to raise storms and to strike a traveller with disease, or that
supernatural beings never men do the same. It may be said, then, that
Melanesian religion divides the people into two groups; one, where, with an
accompanying belief in spirits never men, worship is directed to the ghosts
of the dead, as in the Solomon Islands; the other, where both ghosts and
spirits have an important place, but the spirits have more worship than the
ghosts, as is the case in the New Hebrides and in the Banks’
Islands.
(3) In the Banks’ Islands a spirit is called a vui, and is
thus described by a native who was exhorted to give as far as possible the
original notion conveyed among the old people by the word, and gave his
definition after considerable reflection:—’What is a vui?
It lives, thinks, has more intelligence than a man; knows things which
are secret without seeing; is supernaturally powerful with mana;
has no form to be seen; has no soul, because itself is like a
soul.’ But though the true conception of a vui represents it as
incorporeal, the stories about the vui who have names treat them as
if they were men possessed of supernatural power. The wui of the
Northern New Hebrides are the same. . . .
These spirits, such as they are, have no position in the religion of the
Solomon Islands; the ghosts, the disembodied spirits of the dead, are
objects of worship; the tindalo of Florida, tidadho of
Ysabel, tinda’o of Guadalcanar, lio’a of Saa,
’ataro of San Cristoval. But it must not be supposed that every
ghost becomes an object of worship. A man in danger may call upon his
father, his grandfather, or his uncle; his nearness of kin is sufficient
ground for it. The ghost who is to be worshipped is the spirit of a man who
in his lifetime had mana in him; the souls of common men are the
common herd of ghosts, nobodies alike before and after death. The
supernatural power abiding in the powerful living man abides in his ghost
after death, with increased vigour and more ease of movement. After his
death, therefore, it is expected that he should begin to work, and some one
will come forward and claim particular acquaintance
with the ghost; if his power should shew itself, his position is
assured as one worthy to be invoked, and to receive offerings, till his
cultus gives way before the rising importance of one newly dead, and the
sacred place where his shrine once stood and his relics were preserved is
the only memorial of him that remains; if no proof of his activity appears,
he sinks into oblivion at once. An admirable example of the establishment
of the worship of a tindalo in Florida is given in the story of
Ganindo, for which I am indebted to Bishop Selwyn. There was a gathering of
men at Honggo to go on a head-hunting expedition under the leading of
Kulanikama the chief (himself afterwards a ghost of worship), and Ganindo
was their great fighting man. They went to attack Gaeta, and Lumba of Gaeta
shot Ganindo near the collar-bone with an arrow. Having failed in their
purpose they returned to Honggo, and said they, ’our friend is
dead.’ But as he still lived they took him over to Nggaombata in
Guadalcanar, brought him back again, and put him on the hill Bonipari,
where he died and was buried. Then they took his head, wove a basket for
it, and built a house for it, and they said he was a tindalo.’
Let us go and take heads,’ said they; so they made an
expedition. As they went they ceased paddling in a quiet place and waited
till they felt their canoe rock under them; then said they, ’Here is a
tindalo.’ To find out who he was they called the names of
tindalos, and when they called the name of Ganindo the canoe shook
again. In the same way they learnt what village they were to attack.
Returning successful, they threw a spear into the roof of Ganindo’s
house, blew conches, and danced around it crying, ’Our tindalo
is strong to kill.’ Then they sacrificed to him, fish and food.
Then they built him a new house, and made four images for the four corn
ers, one of Ganindo himself, two of his sisters, and another. Then, when
eight men had carried up the ridge covering for the house, eight men
translated the relics to the shrine. One carried the bones of Ganindo,
another his betel-nuts, another his lime-box, another his shell trumpet.
They all went in crouching, as if under a heavy weight, and singing slowly,
’Ma-i-i, ma-i-i, ka saka tua, hither, hither, let us lift the
leg’; the eight legs were lifted together, and again they chanted
’ma-i-i, ms-i-i,’ and at the last mai the eight
legs went down together. With this solemn procession the relics were set
upon a bamboo platform, and sacrifices to the new keramo were begun;
by Nisi first, then by Satani, then by Begoni, the last, at whose death
some four years ago the sacrifices ceased, and the shrine fell to ruin
before the advance of Christian teaching. To the natives of Florida this
Ganindo was a tindalo, a ghost of worship, a keramo, a ghost
powerful for war; he would be spoken of now by some Europeans as a god, by
others as a devil, and the pigeon-English speaking natives now, who think
that ’devil’ is the English for tindalo, would use the
same word.
1
2 It may be asserted with confidence that a belief in a
devil, that is of an evil spirit, has no place whatever in the native
Melanesian mind. The word has certainly not been introduced in the Solomon
or Banks Islands by missionaries, who in those groups have never used the
word devil. Yet most unfortunately it has come to pass that the religious
beliefs of European traders have been conveyed to the natives in the word
’devil,’ which they use without knowing what it means. It is much
to be wished that educated Europeans would not use the word so loosely as
they do.
3 Professor Max Müller, in his Hibbert Lectures of 1878, did me the
honour of quoting the following words from a letter. ’The religion of
the Melanesians consists, as far as belief goes, in the persuasion that
there is a supernatural power about belonging to the region of the unseen;
and, as far as practice goes, in the use of means of getting this power
turned to their own benefit. The notion of a Supreme Being is altogether
foreign to them, or indeed of any being occupying a very elevated place in
their world. . . . There is a belief in a force altogether distinct from
physical power, which acts in all kinds of ways for good and evil, and
which it is of the greatest advantage to possess or control. This is Mana.
The word is common I believe to the whole Pacific, and people have tried
very hard to describe what it is in different regions. I think I know what
our people meant by it, and that meaning seems to me to cover all that I
hear about it elsewhere. It is a power or influence, not physical, and in a
way supernatural; but it shews itself in physical force, or in any kind of
power or excellence which a man possesses. This Mana is not fixed in
anything, and can be conveyed in almost anything; but spirits, whether
disembodied souls or supernatural beings, have it and can impart it; and it
essentially belongs to personal beings to originate it, though it may act
through the medium of water, or a stone, or a bone. All Melanesian religion
consists, in fact, in getting this Mana for one’s self, or getting it
used for one’s benefit—all religion, that is, as far as religious
practices go, prayers and sacrifices.’
4 The word mana is both a noun substantive and a
verb; a transitive form of the verb, manag, manahi, manangi, means
to impart mana, or to influence with it. An object in which mana
resides, and a spirit which naturally has mana, is said to be
mana, with the use of the verb; a man has mana, but cannot
properly be said to be mana.