Up Front

with the Editor

All is not idyllic in the Pacific Islands by any means, comments American journalist John Griffin in this issue. But for centuries, he points out, the Islands have provided Western man with an important element of mystery and dreams, of smiling friendly people—and the hope now is that the charm will continue to survive and that the best of the Pacific way of life will not die from the “disease of progress”.

GRIFFIN, an intelligent observer

who has travelled widely in the Pacific in the last two or three years, puts forward his hope not with any selfish, short-sighted attitude of keep ing all those fascinating natives in their natural state so that Westerners may amuse themselves by photo graphing them in living Kodacolour.

His hope is not so much in the inter ests of Westerners as of Islanders.

Which brings up the question of what is charm?

Apia and Nukualofa have much charm for me, but not New York.

On the other hand I find no charm in Port Moresby, although I do find that town virile and attractively brash and cynical. New York, for me, was

depressively cynical.

What is charm

made of?

Charm, for me, is concerned with people and pace. Friendly people, get ting on with their affairs at a pace I can move with without strain. Not a pace so fast and super-efficient that I am exasperated, nor one so slow and inefficient that I am frustrated.

I have been charmed in some parts of Japan and England, but not in others. Some New Yorkers I know have been charmed by Melbourne.

Will the charm of the Pacific Is lands survive John Griffin’s “disease of progress”?

I don’t think there is a simple answer. I think that at worst there must always be parts of the Pacific which remain charming to somebody,

if you accept my definition. The people and the pace must be charm ing by comparison for some of us, somewhere.

What we want to know is whether the Pacific Islands as an entity will retain their charm—whether Western visitors will continue to return home and report that their travel agent was right—that the Islanders are among the last of God’s lovely people, living in fascinating kingdoms where true values are still practised.

That question is harder to answer.

You’ll find evidence in PlM’s columns of a hardening of some attitudes in the Pacific. In growing concern in Fiji and the New Hebrides over land and speculators, of a tightening of immigration laws in some territories.

It is the Westerner who is mostly affected by the changing attitude. He has brought much of it on himself in two ways. Firstly by following poli cies, such as land speculation, which invite protective legislation by the Islanders, and secondly, but not neces sarily in that order, by giving the Islanders the reins of government.

Those Islanders still without the reins of government are eventually eoing to have it. There is nothing any body is going to do about it, and there is no reason why they should.

But Islands governments cannot necessarily be expected to behave like Westerners think they ought. They are eoing to do things their way. New Guinea’s decision a few years ago to ban playing cards, even for a game of bridge (visitors must declare playing cards to the Customs man) is a pretty useless move in most Western eyes, including mine. But that’s what the

New Guinean-dominated House of Assembly wanted, and that’s what it got.

The New Guinea House also wants to bring back hanging—which would be a return to the Dark Ages in the calendar of Western man, but appar ently not for Islands man.

The recent decision in the Cook Islands to ban Europeans from citi zenship—even if only temporarily— is a disgraceful decision in my eyes because there is little that it was introduced expressly to “get” one or two individuals who were in disfavour in some quarters. But it was an Islands government that made the decision, and it is entitled to make it, despite my objections.

Naturally governments can expect opposition to some of their policies from all kinds of people. The Cook Islands parliamentary Opposition ob jected to the recent immigration changes, for instance. So the danger is that as the common problems of the Western world intrude into Islands affairs, and are dealt with by Islands governments in their own way, we may expect a change in atmosphere.

Islanders will change as the daily pressures grow. There may not be the same harmony, and I think we may expect more cynicism.

Thus the charm of the Islands dims.

And yet I don’t mean to be as pessimistic as I probably sound. As a body, Islanders are at this moment a charming people, with a basic courtesy and strength of character that may take longer to eradicate than anybody expects.

Their charm may dim —and I expect it will —but the Islands will perhaps remain something of an oasite of calm and sanity compared with most other parts of this wide wooden world.

Stuart Inder