This Is The Solomon Islander In

Peace

By Donald Gilbert Kennedy

DARK-BROWN, wiry, straight-haired Micronesians of the little islands; honey-brown and honey-tongued Polynesians of the many islands; and art loving, cunning, crinkly-haired Melane sians of the black islands—that is the whole story of the Pacific’s mankind.

I use the term “black islands” advisedly in connection with Melanesia, for the word Melanesian (Greek melas—black) originated from the appearance of the islands themselves and not from the colour of the inhabitants. The islands, unlike those of Polynesia and Micronesia, stand out on approach, almost black against the horizon. This appearance is probably due to the complete cover of

dark-green foliage, much of it enclosed in sunless ravines on the steep mountain sides. It may be added, however, that, in point of cultural development towards civilisation, Melanesians are many thous ands of years behind the Polynesians, who may' be said to have attained, before they saw their first Europeans, the stage of the Germanic and Frankish tribes in Europe at the time of Charlemagne, The Polynesians were barbarians while the Melanesians were still savages.

The Solomon Islands form part of Melanesia, and determining the Solomon Islander’s place in the scheme of things is important to us in order to decide what is to be our post-war approach

towards these jungled islands and their primitive peoples who have been witness ing the magnificent spectacle of modern war as waged by the world’s most highly civilised people.

The adventurous sailors of our own breed who first touched at the Solomon Islands have rarely recorded their impres sions of the native people and their ways of life. From their accounts, we get a vague picture of unattractive, primitive men, dwelling in the depths of dark for est recesses, on steep, almost inaccessible hills, each eternally on the defensive, liv ing in trepidation, moving by stealth, attacking by treachery and killing, and robbing all those weaker or less wary than himself. That picture was true enough, but only as far as it went, and in our dealings with the present-day Solomon Islander, it is those primitive qualities which we must study carefully in order to use some of them to his and our advantage. rpHERE is no Melanesian tribal cohesion.

X Generally speaking, there is no wider social organisation than the village, which consists of a few leaf thatched and leaf-walled houses and in which live from 30 to 100 people. The chief of the village is such because of his superior strength or courage or cunning.

Neither his father nor any relative need necessarily have been chief before him.

It has been sometimes observed that a chief would be succeeded by one of his own sons, but this was only because a strong, cunning leader was likely to trans mit to at least one of his progeny those qualities of strength, skill, stealth and treachery which made him a leader.

Their food came mostly from garden farms made in small bush clearings, crop ped with yams and, in damper places, taro, followed by sweet potatoes, for three or four years in all, and then allowed to lie fallow and recover for another eight to 12 years.

Their diversions, like those of London and New York, were feasting, dancing, love-making and intrigue.

To-day, the soldier on reconnaissance patrol, walks unexpectedly out of a dark jungle track into a village clearing. His eye takes in the clipped green grass studded with a dozen or more brown leaf huts. On the margin of the clearing stand a few fruit trees, citrus, mango, paw-paw. canariam almond. The übi quitous domestic fowl pecks around the smaller huts near the bush line. These smaller huts are the kitchen. A lazy sow with a farrow at her dugs lies stretched by one of the houses.

There is a flutter of short dingy skirts as two or three “marys” shyly duck into the nearest kitchen. There is no crowd ing around, no squeals from the children, no smiling menfolk with the word of greeting or the outstretched hand of wel come such as our soldier might find in Polynesia. No bold, appraising glances, shy pretty eyes and furtive smiles, or debonair insouciance, which would be his lot in Micronesia.

He is here in dark, solemn Melanesia and he will have to break the ice of shy, or even sulky, indifference. There may be a man or two about. Unless they are of the sophisticated few, inhabiting villages near military camps and mixing daily with the soldiery to barter shoddy walking sticks and grass kilts for dollars and cents and items of personal equip ment, they will keep their distance. The visitor must make the approach.

Signs are exchanged, a grunt or two of Pidgin English, and our soldier goes on his way, probably unenlightened from the intercourse. It takes long to break down the average Solomon Islander’s indifference to strangers.

There are, of course, exceptions; plan

tation boys, mission boys, Government boys—glib, sophisticated confidence men ever alurk for the gullible stranger. But these are not ordinary Solomon Island ers. They may be 90 per cent, evident in obvious places and hence, perhaps, form 90 per cent, of your evidence as regards the Solomon Islanders; but they are probably less than 5 per cent, of the population.

The rest of the people live their conser vative lives in jungle or coastal villages.

They wear scanty raiment, usually rather soiled. They fish,* using many methods: they hunt, with axes, spears and bows, the wild pig, the opossum, the crocodile (which is eaten in some places), bush nigeons. wild duck and other edible birds. They gather thei canarium almond in season, and pack it in bamboo con tainers. They plant citrus fruits, paw paws, rose apples, mangoes and coconuts.

Each family builds its own house.

Skilled craftsmen make and sell canoes.

Others fashion wooden food vessels of many sizes and shapes, according to the requirements of the culinary art. They make love in devious but highly conven tional ways. They contract marriages with a bride price in strings of shell money, which is returnable in the event of breach of contract on the part of the bride. If it is the man who misbehaves, his “mary” may return to her people and he loses both money and bride. Except in Malaita, they are a matrilineal people —that is, they trace their descent and inherit property through the female line.

They adopt a form of Christianity and build a leaf church in the village. In Pidgin, this is called the “school.” Their mission, whether it be Roman Catholic, Seventh Day Adventist, South Sea Evan gelical, Baptist or Church of England (and all of these are to be heard in a chorus of little harmony) will train for them, a priest and send him to order their lives. The natives attend his ser vices, sing his songs, and try to appear devout. They adapt his version of Chris tianity into their old superstitious philos ophy and make, of the result, a two faced-Janus of a religion, which permits them to reconnoitre the present without losing sight of the past.

The Melanesian of the Solomon Islands is a slave to his imagination. His whole world is one of luck or magic. There is nothing else. The mundane philosophy of natural cause and effect is just too ridiculous for him to notice, Even if you could get a native to apply his mind to the possibility that this uninspiring philosophy does result in, for instance, the Flying Fortress, he would probably like to say to you, “Better a world with out Flying Fortresses if such things mean the loss of our rich, adventurous and unpredictable life of magic and chance.”

BUT western civilisation brought more than a village church with its enter taining ritual. It brought trade, with iron implements, cloth and tobacco, which desirable things might be had by turning surplus coconuts into copra and taking this to the nearest trader. Pearl and trochas shell also might be collected off the reefs and turned in for imported goods. Traders soon discovered that the Solomon Islander has no desire to amass wealth. When he has acquired his neces sary fish-hooks, fish-line, tobacco and calicoes for his family, he is content to pursue his own sweet way. He has no wish to hoard cash against the proverbial rainy day.

Uncle Sam’s over-generous doughboys have discovered, to their consternation, that doubling the monthly pay cheque of a Solomon “boy” will not only reduce his efforts to give satisfactory service, but will, in eight cases out of ten, induce him to ask for a month’s holiday at frequent

intervals in order to spend his unearned increment in gentlemanly leisure. Except in the poor areas of there are no Solomon Islanders living so close to the margin of starvation that they must work regularly in order to live. There are always coconuts to be had for the asking, fish to be caught, shell-fish to be gathered. Warm clothing is unnecessary.

“Then why accept tedious employment?” says our native friend not witoout logic.

DW’lre be?n‘ considered afThey wm

teTo ton the Solomon. Islander it the int ° mdUstnoUS ' pr °ductive citizen.

The vocabularies of the islands are legion. The island of Malaita, alone, is reputed to have so many different tongues

that, in the course of a day’s walk, you may pass through the areas of three or four groups of villages each using a speech which is not understood by the other groups. (I use the word “vocabu laries” rather than “dialects” for the difference is not one of pronunciation or irmection or idiom, but the use of differ ent words to signify the same common object.) mHROUGHOUT the Pacific, the minds 1 of ‘he philologists and linguists

slona^ha^e e

prTlem of flndin b g ee a coSspee'chta order to facilitate communication with, and between, natives over a relatively wide unit area. In several places, such as Fiji, the dominant tongue of one par

ticular place was chosen and agreed upon by all missions and the Government, and this became the lingua franca of the island group—the only written language and therefore the medium of all literary work.

In the Solomon Islands the impact of European influence came from dissociated bodies at widely separated places. One mission tried to introduce a Melanesian dialect of the New Hebrides as a lingua franca. Although this mission has per sisted in its efforts for 70 years or more, its only success has been with the hier archy of its own native priests and teach ers. The efforts of other missions have been equally fruitless.

Meanwhile, growing up sporadically within the islands, and unguided by any external influence, was a new “vocabu lary” using English words with distorted pronunciation and somewhat limited meaning. And the mysterious force which developed, and continues to develop, this new “vocabulary” adapted it, not to Eng lish, but to Melanesian grammar, so that “Pidgin English,” the only lingua franca of the Solomon Islands, is nothing but another Melanesian tongue.' Its idiom is wholly Melanesian. The words alone have an English derivation, and not necessarily the meaning they have in English. Some complementary phrases have reversed their meanings: some Melanesian dialects have six different words for the English personal pronoun “we.” Most have four. Pidgin follows the Melanesian, not the English usage.

This “inclusive” and “exclusive” use, as it is called, of the personal pronoun has certain social advantages not possessed by the inflexible English “we.” When a Melanesian says, in mixed company, “We shall go now,” meaning “Me and my pal (or me and my gal) are about to leave the comnany.” he says, “Me-two-fella go now.” which leaves no excuse for a third party to horn in, whereas the word “we” might be inconveniently interpreted as all-embracing.

Pidgin is the official language of the Solomons and often lends a spice of humour to the staid proceedings of His Britannic Majesty’s High Commissioner’s Court. rour way of thinking, Solomon Islanders may not be. superficially, a very attractive people. Neither, to their way of thinking, may we be attrac tive to them. But they have no more hking than we have for the fire-eating Sons of Nippon. In the last two years they have been invaluable with their canoe transport, their bush lore and their knowledge of tracks through the other wise impenetrable jungle. Wherever they have been able to understand our prob lems they have been sympathetic and readv to help; and whenever we have exerted ourselves enough to understand them, we have had no difficulty in get ting the best out of them. If our rela tions are continued in this spirit, the co-operation thus propitiously begun, need not cease with the downfall of the com mon enemy.

NOUMEA. August 20. —Travelling in New Caledonia these days one sees flourishing patches of green amid the grey, drab landscape. They are victory gardens planted by the American and New Zealand Forces. On this island alone the Seabees have recently harvested 2,862 lb. of green beans, 3,740 ears of sweet corn, and 2,370 lb. of cucumbers. The New Zealand gardens will be taken over, with NZ clubs and camps, by the Americans.