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Tongans In Trousers And

Embarrassing Errors of Early Missionaries

By Julian Dashwood

A NUMBER of books, giving promin ence to early missionary work in the Pacific, have appeared recently, causing, according to their particular slant, approbation or disapproval among those competent to judge.

In all such works the author’s own bias colours his recital of facts and, however unemotionally he records these, it will obtrude like a thin Him over the whole book. In some, it is almost im possible to separate the truth from those prejudices which cement his writing.

Conversely, in many books wrtiten by missionaries themselves, one is often un able to distinguish between the narra tor’s enthusiasm for his subject and the real value of the work performed.

Perhaps no fairer method of criticism could be devised than to draw upon the various societies’ own journals, always remembering that these were written at a time when the religious life of the world generally moved at a different tempo than it does now.

THE most powerful society was and still is— the London Missionary So ciety, launched in 1794 as a child of that evangelical revival originated by White field and Wesley, and which swept Eng land as a popular reaction to the neigh bouring revolution in France.

In an address by Dr. Haweis to as sembled ministers at Spa Fields Chapel on September 22, 1795, the former re marked that “. . . we desire to carry the glad tidings of this salvation to the dis tant lands, sunk deep in heathen dark ness and covered with the shadow of death”.

Dr. Haweis was referring to Tahiti, an island of which he—in common with those associated with him—knew very little; although Bougainville, writing in 1768, with the wider vision of a man of the world, stated that in Tahiti he ‘‘seemed to be transported into the Gar den of Eden”. In fact, according to Havelock Ellis, the view spread by early missionaries, that the Tahitians prac tised “the worst pollutions of which it was possible for man to be guilty” re quires, in the light of modern knowledge, serious modification.

At this meeting it was indicated that if educated men were not forthcoming, then the Society would select uneducated ones: and indeed, from the whole tenor of the address, it would appear that these were even favoured, although there were some who realised the folly of such a course.

“There have not ceased to be men of influence in the Society who sincerely think that the best education for mis sionaries is none at all, and the next best is that which consists in teaching them to make wheelbarrows or plant turnips”. (History of the L.M.S., Vol. 1. page 73).

The sailing of the mission ship “Duff” is familiar history. But a singular retic ence has been observed regarding the subsidiary details. Out of the 30 who composed the original batch of evangel ists, 23 ceased to have any connection with the Society shortly after their re turn to England, following the capture of the “Duff” by a French privateer; and out of the second 30 who finally reached Tahiti, only nine were still with in the fold three years later.

A sublime disregard for local conditions went hand in hand with almost incred ible stupidity in the selection of those to undertake the work. The Rev. John Eyre, a young man of 25, was accom panied by his wife, a lady of 64. while another, named Cover, brought along a small boy in the last stages of consump tion! The child died while the ship still lay at Portsmouth.

ON March 5, 1797, the “Duff” reached Tahiti, where it was at once appar ent that the newcomers would not share the rhapsodies of Bougainville.

“. . , For the first time, those sent to begin, on behalf of the Society, the glori ous work of preaching Christianity to the heathen, came into direct contact with the human beings they sought to bless. . .

When the first ceremonies were over we began to view our friends with an eye of enquiry; their wild disorderly behav iour, strong smell of coconut oil, to gether with the tricks of the areois, lessened the favourable impression we had formed of them. Neither could we see aught of that elegance and beauty in their women for which they had been so greatly celebrated. . . we endeavoured

to make them understand that this was the day of the Atua, and that on it we durst not trade, but their women, re pulsed, occasioned even greater wonder among them”. (From the official Jour nal kept on board the “Duff”).

And yet in J. R. Forster’s “Observa tions Made on a Voyage Round the World”, published in 1778, we find a charming description of Tahiti, and its people. “In short, their character”, he concludes, “is as amiable as that of any nation that ever came unimproved out of the hands of Nature. . . Whenever we came to this happy island we could perceive the opulence and happiness of its inhabitants”.

Turnbull, who visited Tahiti in 1880 writes that “their manner of addressing strangers, from the king to the meanest subject, is courteous and affable in the extreme. . . They certainly live amongst each other in more harmony than is usual amongst Europeans”.

Yet these were the same people of whom the chronicler on the “Duff” could find little or nothing to praise, and to whom the pilgrim evangelists sang their sombre and prophetic hymn, beginning “O’er the gloomy hills of darkness”.

FROM the outset, arguments arose as to the wisdom of entering either the political or commercial fields. In

1837 we find the missionary J. M Ors mond writing that “we are a set of trad ing priests, our closets are neglected and our cloth disgraced”.

Politically, too, the Society soon found itself unabie or unwilling to refrain from interference with secular affairs. First in Tahiti and Kaiatea, then in Raroton ga in 1826, a code of laws was drawn up by the missionaries in consultation with the leading chiefs, and subsequently ratified by the peopie generally. In this manner, as will readily be understood, the Society not only strengthened its spiritual authority, but also obtained a temporal hold over those islands on which it was represented.

The severity- of many of these laws and their puritanical insistence on the preservation of moral standards led, in 1891, to Mr. F. J. Moss, first British Re sident at Rarotonga, including the fol lowing remarks in his report for that year on the conditions in Mangaia: “• • • There is no regard for personal liberty, nor any pretence to sucn a re gard. At sunset a bell rings from the Mission House, and the streets of the two adjacent villages are at once paraded by policemen, each with a native drum, who warns the people to remain in their own premises, which they cannot then leave unless with a lighted torch in hand.

After sunset, the streets are thoroughly deserted, except by the police, who prowl about secretly and enter any house, at any hour, to satisfy themselves that no improper proceedings are going on with in. These policemen number 150—about one to every twelve of the population.

Their only qualification is church-mem bership, and the night duty is done by detachments selected weekly. . . Women are said to have been exposed in dark holes, and with little or no clothing, to the attacks of mosquitoes; men are said to have been hung up by the feet; and similar means taken to extort criminat ing confession and its attendant fine”.

That these methods had not earned unanimous approval is clearly demonstra ted in a letter, from Tahiti, by the mis sionary Howe, in 1848: “Having registered the lands as na tional property, the Governor passed a law . . . that the people should keep the schools, chapels and missionary pre mises in repair ... out of 80 delegates there were only seven in favour of his motion, those who spoke said that we had got enough out of them already!

Such things are excessively painful to hear”.

BUT perhaps the worst indictment which can be levelled against the Society is the inoculation of the peoples under its influence with a fear of death and a sense of sin—innovations which in the case of the Tahitians had as far-reaching results as the opening of Pandora’s box. That neither existed formerly has been amply established. In Cook’s “Third Voyage of Discovery, 1776- 1780”, occurs the passage: “I never saw

them, in any misfortune, labour under the appearance of anxiety after the critical moment was past. Neither does care ever seem to wrinkle their brow.

On the contrary, even the approach of death does not appear to alter their usual vivacity”.

To compare with this we find, in the “History of the L.M.S., Vol. 1, pages 268- 269”: “A generation trained in heathenism could not thus have come under the power of the Gospel without in many cases passing through the deep waters of spiritual experience. Pomare him self was an example of this. Fear of eternal punishment as the only fit re ward for crimes such as his, and hope that in some way Christ would deliver him seem to have alternately tortured and’soothed his darkened mind. . . Civ ilisation, apart from the Gospel, could never have started such questions as these and could certainly have held out no comfort to any such troubled souls”.

NO review, however brief, would be com plete without some mention of the sweeping changes wrought by the Society in the domestic life and customs of the people generally, often to the det riment of health and happiness.

These attempts to transplant Victorian niceties to the South Seas were most clearly seen in Tonga where, by the close of last century, the population had been dizened out in old bonnets, shape less gowns, trousers and swallow-tailed coats for Sunday, and where, in place of the cool spaciousness of their former homes, houses had become receptacles for accumulated rubbish, the chairs cov ered with hideous antimacassars and the tables loaded with round worsted mats.

Punishable too, by fine and imprison ment: (a) To wear native clothing; (b) to play at ball; (c) to bathe on Sunday; rd) to wear a garland of flowers; (e) to build a native-fashioned house.

And when one pauses to think that out of a total revenue of over £6,500,000. a large proportion was expended m bringing about a state of affairs similar to that just described, one is not only inclined to deplore such misplaced zeal but also to endorse the words of the late Lord Stanmore, a former Governor of Fiji and High Commissioner of the Paci fic, who said, apropos of conditions m Tonga that “men in such circumstances are ripe for revolt, and sometimes the revolt comes”.