XI.
January 30, 1907.
MUCH has been said of flogging and the chicotte. There is no question that flogging is general throughout the Congo Free State. The English word “flogging” is one which is generally known and understood by officials of every nationality throughout the country; it is known, too, by a surprising number of natives. The chicotte is known to everybody within the state limits—its name is Portuguese. In all my journey in the Congo, while I frequently heard the word “flogging” and constantly heard the word “chicotte,” I never heard the French term for either. Nor do I think the native has. It is plain that neither flogging nor the chicotte was introduced by Belgians. These found them in the country on their arrival, introduced by English and Portuguese.
It is not the fact of flogging in itself that raises objections; not only the state and traders but the missionaries find it necessary to whip their black employés. In fact, at a missionary conference—I think it was—one missionary referred laughingly to the boys whom another (by the way, one of the chief witnesses against the state) “had flogged into the kingdom of heaven.” He did not mean the boys had died as a result of the flogging, but simply that they had found salvation through its means. It is, then, the amount, severity, and undeservedness of the whipping which are reprobated.
I saw, of course, plenty of flogging. Not, indeed, with such an instrument as has been recently shown throughout the United States by a complaining missionary. I was conversing recently with a friend who had been profoundly stirred in connection with Congo atrocities. He happened to mention the chicotte, then said: “Have you ever seen a chicotte? You know it is made of six thongs of hippopotamus skin, twisted tightly together.” I told him that I had seen hundreds of chicottes, but that I had never seen one such as he described. As a matter of fact, I have seen chicottes of a single thong, and of two or three twisted together, but I have never seen one composed of six. I do not know whether such an instrument would cause greater suffering in punishment, but it certainly is better suited for display to sympathetic audiences who want to be harrowed by dreadful reports. The first flogging that I happened to see was at a distance. I was busy measuring soldiers; hearing cries, I looked in the direction whence they came, and saw a black man being publicly whipped before the office of the commissaire. An officer of proper authority was present inspecting the punishment, which I presume was entirely legal.
In the second flogging which I witnessed, this time at close quarters, I was myself implicated to a degree. We were at a mission station. The mission force and practically all the people from the place were attending Sunday morning service. It was fruiting time for the mango trees, which were loaded with golden fruit. Suddenly we heard an outcry, and in a moment the mission sentry, delighted and excited, came up to our veranda with an unfortunate prisoner, whom he had taken in the act of stealing fruit. He insisted on leaving him with us for guarding. I turned him over to my companion, who set him on his veranda, telling him to stay there until the missionary should come from the service.
The prisoner squatted down upon the veranda without a word of discussion, laying the fruit, evidence of his guilt, upon the floor at his side. We were so angry at him that he made no attempt at escaping, and did not even eat the fruit which he had stolen, that we washed our hands of the whole affair, and believed he deserved all that might be coming. The service over, the missionary appeared, accompanied by the triumphant sentry. When the prisoner had admitted his guilt, the missionary asked whether he preferred to be sent to the state for punishment or to be whipped by him, to which the prisoner replied that he should prefer the mission flogging.
With great formality the instrument of punishment was produced; it consisted of two long and narrow boards, perhaps six feet in length and two or three inches wide; between them was fixed a board of the same width, but of half the length. At one end these were firmly screwed together, while the other end was left open. It will be seen that when a heavy blow was given with the instrument the free ends of the two long sticks would strike together, producing a resounding whack which, no doubt, produced a psychic suffering in the victim in addition to the true physical pain. However that may be, fifteen blows, I think, were administered, and the prisoner discharged.
One day, upon the Kasai steamer, we witnessed a wholesale whipping, which was typical of this mode of punishment as regularly administered. The night before we had been forced to tie up beside the forest. The night was dark and the cutters refused to make wood for the next day’s journey. This was a serious act of insurrection, involving delay and trouble. When, finally, the next morning the wood had been loaded and the steamer was under way, ten of the rebels were marched up to the captain. In turn each lay down upon the floor, a friend held his hands and wrists, while the capita administered twenty blows. It is comparatively rare that the white man himself does the flogging; usually it is the regular capita who is in charge of the workmen, or a special one of the working force detailed to play the part.
It makes a notable difference in the way in which the punishment is received whether the hands are firmly held to prevent struggling. An English-speaking white man not in the government or company employ, who had had more or less opportunity for observation in our Southern states, and whose experience in the Congo extends over several years, told me that flogging with the chicotte was a rather mild and simple punishment; that it hurt but little, and that, for his part, he preferred to hit the workmen on the head and kick them in the shins, those being places more tender to the application than the part subjected to the chicotte. On the whole, I am inclined to think that there was something in what he said. It is certain that in most cases the suffering from a flogging is momentary. I have even seen persons undergoing serious flogging exchange significant glances and signals with their friends, in which the suggestion of pain was quite absent. Many a time, also, I have seen a man immediately after being flogged, laughing and playing with his companions as if naught had happened. Personally, though I have seen many cases of this form of punishment, I have never seen blood drawn, nor the fainting of the victim.
It is common to speak of the chain-gang with great sympathy. One sees chain-gangs at every state post; it is the common punishment for minor offenses to put the prisoner on the chain. Sometimes as many as twelve or fifteen are thus joined together by chains attached to iron rings placed about their necks. They are employed in all sorts of work—bringing water for use about the station, sweeping roads, clearing fields, carrying burdens. On our arrival at a state post, immediately after we had presented our introductions to the commandant, the chain-gang would be sent to bring our freight and baggage to the rooms to which we were assigned. The ring around the necks of these prisoners is a light iron ring, weighing certainly not to exceed two pounds. The weight of chain falling upon each prisoner can hardly be more than six or eight pounds additional. In other words, the weight which they are forced to carry in the shape of ring and chain does not exceed, probably does not equal, ten pounds.
From the viewpoint of service rendered, the chain-gang has little value. It dawdles, lags, idles, and plays; only when it is carrying burdens does it really work. I have never seen a chain-gang composed of women, nor have I seen women on the same gang with men. It is stated by the missionaries that such things occur. Certainly, every one would object to the chaining together of male and female prisoners. Apart from this, the chain-gang does not particularly arouse my sympathy. It is a very mild form of punishment, and one which, of course, is common in as bad a form or worse throughout many of our Southern states. To grieve over the weight carried in the form of chain and ring is simply ridiculous; there are to-day thousands of women among these Congo tribes who for the sake of decoration carry about their neck a heavy ring of brass weighing twenty, twenty-five, or thirty pounds. It is no uncommon thing for both men and women to have a weight of thirty, forty, or fifty pounds of brass and iron rings and ornaments upon them.
I cannot believe that the ordinary flogging, such as I have seen, causes notable suffering to people who, for purposes of decoration or treatment of rheumatism, submit without evidence of pain to such operations as I have described in detail in an earlier article. Nor can I feel that the mere fact of carrying chain and ring of less than ten pounds’ weight involves terrible suffering for people who regularly carry much heavier burdens of ornaments.
Much has been said of late in regard to hostages. The taking of hostages and holding them until some obligation or agreement had been performed was a common native custom. Stanley frequently captured women and children, or even men, of tribes in the districts through which he was passing and held them as hostages until they should show him the trail he should follow, or until their people supplied him with the food or other things which he desired. At the ill-fated Yambuya camp the rear guard frequently seized the women of the natives who had failed to bring in food supplies in return for the trade stuffs offered. This seizure of hostages is mentioned repeatedly in the writings of the early travelers, and seems to have caused no outcry on the part of the sensitive civilized world at that time. Why should it now?
It is a common practice, though a disagreeable one to us, for one who sells a thing to keep back a part of it in making delivery of the goods. On one occasion we bought a musical instrument, a marimba, which consisted, in part, of a dozen gourds as resounding bodies. Every one of these gourds was necessary to the instrument, yet the seller, after we had examined it with care to see that it was perfect, removed three of the gourds, in accordance with this custom. The instrument was sent to us by the son of the seller’s chief, old Chicoma. When we found the instrument at home we at once noted the absence of the three gourds. Old Chicoma’s son had a companion with him. We at once decided to hold the chief’s son as a hostage, sending word by his companion that he would be set free only on the appearance of the missing gourds. When we told the youth that we had “tied him up,” that being the expression for holding a person hostage, he looked sheepish, but made no complaint, recognizing the justice of our action.
This was at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. He made no attempt to escape, although we had not in any way actually interfered with his freedom of movement. We gave him supper when the time came and breakfast in the morning. He found his stay tedious, however, and finally, when none was looking, slipped away. He must have met the messenger bringing the missing gourds before he was any distance from the house, as he appeared with our property about half an hour after the flight.
The only other personal experience in the matter of hostages that we had was in the High Kasai. A white man, agent of the Kasai company, was our guest for the night. In the early morning our friend, Chief Ndombe, appeared, in great excitement, begging us to loan him cloth, as the white man had seized one of his slaves and would not release him until he had fully paid a debt which the white man claimed he owed him. The question appeared complicated, and we let him have the cloth, after which we went over to hear the palaver accompanying the payment. Both sides told their story, with much gesticulation. The white man’s boy had owned a woman, for whom he claimed to have paid six pieces of cloth; she had run away, and he had sought in vain for her. The chief, old Chicoma, told him that the woman was at Ndombe and in the house of the great chief. So they seized Ndombe’s slave—a little lad about 11 years of age, whose bright face and curious head shaving always had greatly attracted me. This boy our visitors were holding as a hostage until Ndombe should produce the woman or pay her value.
Of course, the whole procedure was illegal, and I was inclined to take up the matter vigorously. There were, however, so many elements of doubt in the matter that I finally concluded to let it pass. Of hostages held by company agents or by state people we saw but few, and never learned the circumstances under which they had been taken. They were rarely in actual confinement, and we saw no evidences of bad treatment toward them. In native custom, the hostages are regularly well treated and fed regularly, while held in captivity. While we have never seen maltreatment of hostages, we can readily understand how such could arise. Taken, as they usually are, in order to force the bringing in of food or forest products, if their holding does not produce the desired effect the feeling of vexation resulting may easily lead to cruelty.
Men Sentenced to the Death Penalty for Murderand Cannibalism, Basoko
Men Sentenced to the Death Penalty for Murderand Cannibalism, Basoko
XII.
January 31, 1907.
PEOPLE in this country seem to expect that every traveler in the Congo must meet with crowds of people who have had one or both hands cut off. We have all seen pictures of these unfortunates, and have heard most harrowing tales in regard to them. Casement, the English consul, whose report to the British government has caused so much agitation, and who described many cases of mutilation, himself saw[A]but a single case; and that case, though put forward by the missionaries as an example of state atrocities, was finally withdrawn by them, as the subject had not been mutilated by human assailants, but by a wild boar. Casement traveled many miles and spent much time in securing the material for his indictment, and yet saw[B]but this one case. We saw a single case of mutilation. It was a boy at Ikoko, probably some twelve years old. He had been found, a child of three or four years, by the side of his dead mother, after a punitive expedition had visited the town. His mother’s body had been mutilated and the child’s hand cut off. We might have seen a second case of this sort at this place if we had searched for her. There is a second there.
No one, I think, would desire to excuse the barbarity of cutting off the hands of either dead or living, but we must remember that the soldiers in these expeditions are natives, and in the excitement and bloodthirst roused by a military attack they relapse to ancient customs. There has, indeed, been considerable question recently whether the cutting off of hands is really a native custom. Sir Francis de Winton, himself an Englishman, and Stanley’s successor in the administration of the Congo State, says that it was. And Glave says: “In every village in this section (Lukolela) will be found slaves of both sexes with one ear cut off. This is a popular form of punishment in an African village. It is not at all unusual to hear such threats as ‘I will cut your ear off,’ ‘I will sell you,’ or ‘I will kill you,’ and often they are said in earnest.” Where such customs were constant in native life it is not strange that they have lasted on into the present.
Of course, in this connection we must not forget that mutilation of dead bodies is not by any means confined to the Congo Free State, nor to its natives. Only a few months ago, in Southern Africa, the British force cut off the head of a hostile chief. When the matter was investigated, the excuse given was that it was done for purposes of identification, and that the body was afterwards brought in and buried with it.
The most of the difficulty with the natives of the Congo Free State, of course, comes in connection with the demand to gather rubber. The native hates the forest; he dislikes to gather rubber; it takes him from his home, and comfort, and wife. We have never accompanied a party of natives gathering rubber, but we have seen them started and have also seen them bringing in their product. The best rubber of the Congo is produced by vines which frequently grow to several inches in diameter. The same vine may be tapped many times. The milky juice, which exudes abundantly, promptly coagulates into rubber; as it hardens it is rolled into balls between the palm and some portion of the body, such as the chest or leg.
The place where we have seen most of rubber production is in the High Kasai, where the famous red rubber is produced, which sells for the highest price of any African caoutchouc. My missionary friends have told me that conditions in the Kasai are not bad and that they have no special fault to find with the Kasai company. While there were things that might be criticised, there was apparent fairness in the business. The natives waited several days after they had gathered their balls of rubber before bringing them in. This was for the reason that the company’s agent had but an unattractive stock of goods in his magazine at the moment; they preferred to wait until a new stock should come up on the expected steamer. As soon as it appeared they sent word that they might be expected the following day.
The old Bachoko chief, Maiila, was brought in state, in his blue hammock; his people came singing and dancing with the baskets full of balls of rubber on their heads. All proceeded to the magazine, where the great steelyards were suspended and the rubber weighed; each man looked carefully to see that his stock balanced evenly, and one of their number, who understood the instrument and could figure, stood by to see that all went fair. While the rubber was a demanded tax, a regular price of 1 franc and 25 centimes the kilo was paid. This was given in stuffs, of course, and the native selected what he pleased from the now abundant stock of cloths, blankets, graniteware, and so forth. It may truly be said that they came in singing gayly and went home glad.
At Mobandja we saw a large party setting out to the forest to gather rubber, different from any that we had seen before in that a considerable number of women formed a part of it. This feature I did not like, although I presume it is an effort to meet the criticisms of the report of the royal commission of investigation. The commission particularly criticised the fact that the men, in going into the forest, were deprived of the company of their women—a hardship strongly emphasized. It is surely a mistake, however well it may be meant, to send the women into the forest with the men to gather rubber. Such a procedure involves the neglect of her fields and interrupts the woman’s work.
And here we touch upon the thing which in my opinion is the worst feature of the whole Congo business. Anything that affects the woman’s work necessarily brings hardship. I have seen many heart-rending statements in regard to the loss of work time which the man suffers by going to the forest to gather rubber. We are told that by the time he has gone several days’ journey into the dense forest, gathered his balls of rubber, and returned again to his village, he has no time left for work, and his family and the whole community suffers as a consequence. But from what work does this gathering of rubber take the man?
We have already called attention to the fact that the support of the family and the actual work in any village fall upon the woman. The man, before he went into the forest to gather rubber, had no pressing duties. His wife supported him; he spent his time in visiting, dancing, lolling under shelters, drinking with his friends, or in palavers, sometimes of great importance but frequently of no consequence; in other words, he was an idler, or a man of leisure. I feel no sorrow on account of the labors from which he is restrained. Personally, I should have no objection to his idling. If he does not want to work and need not work, I see no reason why he should not idle. But my readers are practical men, who talk much of the dignity of labor and the elevation of the lazy negro. Very good; if work is dignified and the elevation of the negro necessary, let him collect rubber, but do not mourn over the fact that he is deprived of opportunity to earn a living for himself and family.
There is, indeed, one set of circumstances under which the man may really be deprived of opportunity to aid in the work of gaining a living. Where the men in a community are really fishermen—they are not always so—to take them from their fishing entails a hardship.
The thing which seems to me the worst is the kwanga tax on women and the fish tax on men. The former is at its worst, perhaps, in Leopoldville; the latter is bad enough at Nouvelle Anvers. Leopoldville is situated in a district which yields much less for food than necessary. It has always been so. Even in the days before the white man came, the people in the native villages on Stanley Pool were obliged to buy food supplies from outside, as they themselves, being devoted to trading, did no cultivation. With the coming of the white man, and the establishing of a great post at Leopoldville, with thousands of native workmen and soldiers to be fed, the food question became serious. The state has solved the problem by levying a food tax on the native villages for many miles around.
The women are required to bring a certain amount of kwanga—native cassava bread—to Leopoldville within a stated period of time. To do this involves almost continuous labor, and really leaves the women little time for attending to the needs of their own people. Some of them are forced to come many miles with the supply of bread. When they have cared for the growing plants in their fields, prepared the required stint of kwanga, brought it the weary distance over the trails, and again come back to their village, they must begin to prepare for the next installment. For this heavy burden there must certainly be found some remedy. Personally, it seems to me that the women belonging to the workmen and the soldiers might be utilized in cultivating extensive fields to supply the need. The condition of the men who pay the fish tax is analogous to that of these kwanga-taxed women.
The question of the population of the Congo is an unsettled one. Stanley estimated it at 29,000,000 people; Reclus, in 1888, estimated it at something over 20,000,000; Wagner and Supan claimed 17,000,000, and Vierkandt sets the figure at 11,000,000. The governor-general, Baron Wahis, who has several times made the inspection of the whole river, is inclined to think that even Stanley’s figure is below the true one. Between these limits of 11,000,000 and 29,000,000 any one may choose which he prefers. No one knows, or is likely for many years to know. Those who believe that Stanley’s figure was true in its time, and that Vierkandt’s is true at present, may well insist, as they do, that depopulation is taking place.
Personally, I have no doubt that depopulation is going on. Of course, the enemies of the Free State government attribute the diminution in population chiefly to the cruelties practiced by the state, but it is certain that many causes combine in the result.
The distribution of the Congo population is exceedingly irregular. From Stanley Pool to Chumbiri there has been almost no population during the period of our knowledge. On the other hand, from Basoko to Stanley Falls the population is abundant and there is almost a continuous line of native villages along the banks for miles. Practically, the state of population is really known only along the river banks. Back from the riverines are inland tribes, the areas of which in some cases are but sparsely settled, while in others they swarm. They are, however, little known, and just how the population is distributed is uncertain. The district which we personally best know—the Kasai—is one of the most populous of all the Congo State, and around the Sankuru, one of the main tributaries of the Kasai, we perhaps have the densest population of the country. If we take Stanley’s estimate as accurate, the population would average twelve to the square kilometer.
Among known causes for the diminution of Congo population we may mention first the raiding expeditions of the Arabs. These were numerous and destructive in the extreme, throughout the region of the Upper Congo and the Lualaba. Organized for taking slaves and getting booty, they destroyed ruthlessly the adult male population and deported the women and children. Towns were burned and whole districts left unoccupied. There is no question that many of the punitive expeditions of the state have been far more severe than necessity demanded; “the people must be shown the power of Bula Matadi.” It is said that Vankerckhoven’s expedition destroyed whole towns needlessly in the district of Chumbiri and Bolobo. Certainly, the population in this section was formerly abundant. Everywhere along the shores one sees the groups of palm trees marking the sites of former villages; probably the present population is no more than one fourth that which existed formerly.
Throughout the whole district, where the French Congo touches on the river, it is a common thing for timid or disgruntled villagers to moveen masseacross the river into French territory. These wholesale removals are an advantage to the natives, as that portion of the French Congo is less well occupied by white posts and government officials than the corresponding part of the Congo Free State. The natives who have thus removed unquestionably have an easier time in the French colony. This, however, can hardly be called depopulation, as it involves no loss in persons, but merely a transfer from the Free State side to the other. It does not at all affect the actual number of the race.
Sleeping-sickness is carrying off its tens of thousands.
But after we suggest these causes we are still far from a full solution of the problem of depopulation, which is a mysterious thing. In Polynesia we have another example of it on a prodigious scale. In Polynesia we have neither slave raids, nor punitive expeditions, nor sleeping-sickness. Yet, adults die and children are not born. If things continue in the future as in the past, the time is not far distant when the Polynesian—one of the most interesting and attractive of human races—will be a thing completely of the past.
The case of our own American Indians is similar. Whole tribes have disappeared; others are dying out so rapidly that a few years will see their complete extinction. I am familiar with the arguments which, from time to time, are printed to demonstrate that the number of American Indians is as great as ever. It seems, however, that it is only rich tribes that hold their own; the reason is not far to seek, but we may not here pursue the argument further.
[A]I am here in error. Casementsawmore than one case of mutilation; he carefullyinvestigatedbut one.
[A]
I am here in error. Casementsawmore than one case of mutilation; he carefullyinvestigatedbut one.
[B]See footnote A.
[B]
See footnote A.
XIII.
February 1, 1907.
NOR is apparent depopulation of the Congo a matter of recent date. Quotations might be given from many travelers. We quote three from Bentley, because he was well acquainted with the country and because he was an English missionary. In speaking of the town of Mputu, an hour and a half distant from San Salvador, he describes the chief, Mbumba, a man of energy, feared in all his district. He was strict in his demands regarding conduct. In his presence others were required to sit tailor-fashion. “To ease the cramped limbs, by stretching them out before one, is a gross breach of decorum; any one who did so in Mbumba’s presence was taken out, and was fortunate if he lost only an ear. We have known several great chiefs who would order a man who sat carelessly to be thus mutilated. His own people were much afraid of him on account of his cruel, murderous ways; for a small offense he would kill them relentlessly. He was superstitious and very ready to kill witches. Through his evil temper, pride, and superstition, his town of several hundred people was reduced to eighty or ninety souls.”
Again he says: “Our next camp was at Manzi; but as we had so many people, the natives preferred that we should camp in a wood at Matamba, twenty minutes’ walk beyond the town. The wood marked the site of a town deserted some years before. There were no other towns on the road from there to Isangila, a distance of thirty miles, for the wicked people had killed each other out over their witch palavers. This was what the natives told us themselves. Yet they went on killing their witches, believing that if they did not do so all the people would be exterminated. Two wretched villages of a few huts each were to be found a few miles off the path, but the country was practically depopulated.”
In another place he says, in speaking of the caravan days: “All the carriers suffered acutely from fever, and this was the case with all the caravans on the road. This mortality was largely increased by the improvidence of the carriers themselves. Thousands of men were engaged in transport work at the time, but very few troubled to carry enough food with them, or money wherewith to buy it. As a rule, the young men staid in their towns as long as they had anything to buy food with; when they failed, they borrowed until their debts became too great. Then they arranged to go with some caravan to carry, and received ration money for the road. This would be partly used up in the town, and the rest go to those from whom they borrowed. On the road they lived largely on palm nuts and raw cassava, and returned to their homes in a terribly exhausted condition. With the influx of cloth gained by transportation came hunger, for wealth made the women lazy; they preferred to buy food rather than produce—the gardens came to an end, then hunger followed, and sickness and death. Women staid at home to mourn, and the mischief became worse. Sleep-sickness and smallpox spread. The population of the cataracts district is not more than half what it was fifteen years ago. The railway is now complete, and the country will adapt itself to its new conditions.”
Those who are hostile to the state, of course, will find great comfort in this quotation; for the transport system was an introduction by the Belgians. It will be observed, however, that the author mentions no cruelty on the part of the new masters in this connection; it must also be remembered that the missionaries were as much interested in the caravan system as any, and assisted in its development. My chief object in introducing the quotation is to show how impossible it is to affect native conditions in one way without bringing about a connected series of changes, not always easy to foresee.
To me, the real wonder is that there are any of the Congo peoples left. Think of the constant drain due to the foreign slave trade, continued from an early date until after the middle of the last century. Think of the continuous losses due to the barbarism of native chiefs and demands of native customs—to wars, cannibalism, execution, and ordeal. Think of the destruction caused by punitive expeditions—towns burned, people killed. Think of the drafts made by the caravan system and the public works which the state has been forced to carry out. Think of the multitudes who have died with the diseases of the country and from pestilence introduced by the newcomers. Yet the population really shows signs of great vitality to-day, and the most discouraged missionary hesitates a real prediction for the future.
There is a most interesting and suggestive map in Morel’s new book, “Red Rubber.” It bears the legend, “Map showing revenue division of the Congo Free State.” Upon this map we find marked with little crosses the localities where specific reports of atrocities have been received. The distribution of these crosses is interesting. We find a concentration of them along the main river from the Rubi River almost to the mouth of the Kasai, a notable bunch of them in the region of the A. B. I. R., and in an area worked by the Antwerp trust; also in the district of Lake Leopold II. There are few crosses indicative of bad treatment in the Congo above this district, and practically none in the lower Congo and the Kasai. It is precisely in the areas where these crosses are so frequent that the early travelers had difficulty with the natives in first traversing the country. In other words, the districts where native hostility has in recent years produced the acts of alleged cruelty have always been centers of disturbance and attack against the white man. Districts which were found occupied by peaceful and friendly tribes have been the scenes of few outrages. This seems to me a point worthy of serious consideration.
For my own part, I believe that any well-behaved white man can to-day traverse Africa in every direction without danger as long as his journey confines itself to areas of Bantu and true negroes. Livingstone practically had no trouble with native tribes; Schweinfurth, entering from the Nile, penetrated to the heart of Africa with little trouble; Du Chaillu traveled throughout the Ogowe valley without difficulty with natives; Junker, following Schweinfurth’s trail, penetrated farther into what is now the Congo Free State, passing through the territory of many warlike and cannibal tribes, but never armed his men and never had a difficulty with any native chief. It is true, however, that the tribes of the Congo differ vastly from each other in disposition. Some are warlike, some are peaceful to cowardice; some are genial, friendly, open; others are surly, hostile, reserved, treacherous. While I have always felt that Stanley looked for trouble and that he left a trail of blood unnecessarily behind him, I recognize that the Bangala and many of their neighbors are less agreeable, less kindly, more disposed for trouble than many of the other tribes in the Free State. It is precisely with these tribes that the chief difficulties of the state have been.
Another curious point is shown on Morel’s map. From what has been said by critics of the state we would be justified in expecting to find those districts where the white man’s influence had penetrated most fully, and where he himself existed in greatest number, the worst in the matter of atrocity. But it is precisely in these districts that Morel’s map shows no marks of reported atrocities. It is plain, then, that the officials of the Congo Free State are not, as a body, men delighting in cruelty and outrage. Where there are numbers of them, instead of conditions being at their worst they are at their happiest. It is only where there are lonely men surrounded by depressing influences and in the midst of hostile and surly tribes that these dreadful things are found. It is natural to expect that with fuller penetration of the white men into these districts conditions will change hopefully.
But why should we pick out the Congo Free State for our assault? Atrocities occur wherever the white man, with his thirst for gold, comes into contact with “a lower people.” He is ever there to exploit; he believes that they were created for exploitation. If we want to find cruelty, atrocities, all kinds of frightful maltreatment, we may find them in almost every part of negro Africa. They exist in the French Congo, in German Africa, in Nigeria, even in Uganda. If we insist on finding them, we may find cruelty, dispossession, destruction of life and property, in all these areas. The only ruthless act involving the death of a black native that we really saw was in French territory. If there were any object in doing so, we could write a harrowing story of British iniquity in Africa, but it is unnecessary; every one who stops to think and who reads at all knows the fact.
Wherever British trade finds native custom standing in its way, we shall find cruelty. Why was King Ja Ja deported? I have heard an interesting incident connected with his case. One who for many years has voyaged up and down the western coast of Africa tells me that while Ja Ja was still at his height of power the natives of his district, paddling near the shores in their canoes, were always happy and joyous. Ja Ja stood in the way of the British traders gaining so much money as they wanted, and so he was exiled and taken a prisoner to distant lands. From the day of his departure the happiness of life was gone from all the country. Few natives put out in their canoes, and those who did were silent; the song and laughter of former days were hushed. Until the day when he was brought home, a corpse, for burial, somberness and sadness settled down upon his people, before so gay and light hearted. What was it caused the trouble at Benin but British greed insisting on opening up a territory which its natives desired to keep closed? The Benin massacre that followed was dreadful, but it did not begin to compare in frightful bloodshed with the punitive expedition which followed—a feat scarce worthy of British arms. What was the cause of hut-tax wars? What is the matter now in Natal? Do we know all that goes on in Nigeria? Wherein is excellence in the expropriation of lands and products in Uganda for the benefit of concession companies of the same kind exactly as those in Congo? Why is it worse to cut off the hands of dead men for purposes of tally than to cut off the heads of dead chiefs for purposes of identification? But let it pass—we are not undertaking an assault on Britain.
XIV.
February 2, 1907.
RETURNED from the Congo country and a year and more of contact with the dark natives, I find a curious and most disagreeable sensation has possession of me. I had often read and heard that other peoples regularly find the faces of white men terrifying and cruel. The Chinese, the Japanese, other peoples of Asia, all tell the same story.
The white man’s face is fierce and terrible. His great and prominent nose suggests the tearing beak of some bird of prey. His fierce face causes babes to cry, children to run in terror, grown folk to tremble. I had always been inclined to think that this feeling was individual and trifling; that it was solely due to strangeness and lack of contact. To-day I know better. Contrasted with the other faces of the world, the face of the fair white is terrible, fierce, and cruel. No doubt our intensity of purpose, our firmness and dislike of interference, our manner in walk and action, and in speech, all add to the effect. However that may be, both in Europe and our own land, after my visit to the blacks, I see the cruelty and fierceness of the white man’s face as I never would have believed was possible. For the first time, I can appreciate fully the feeling of the natives. The white man’s dreadful face is a prediction; where the fair white goes he devastates, destroys, depopulates. Witness America, Australia, and Van Diemen’s Land.
Morel’s “Red Rubber” contains an introductory chapter by Sir Harry Johnston. In it the ex-ruler of British Central Africa says the following: “A few words as to the logic of my own position as a critic of King Leopold’s rule on the Congo. I have been reminded, in some of the publications issued by the Congo government; that I have instituted a hut-tax in regions intrusted to my administration; that I have created crown lands which have become the property of the government; that as an agent of the government I have sold and leased portions of African soil to European traders; that I have favored, or at any rate have not condemned, the assumption by an African state of control over natural sources of wealth; that I have advocated measures which have installed Europeans as the master—for the time being—over the uncivilized negro or the semicivilized Somali, Arab, or Berber.”
It is true that Sir Harry Johnston has done all these things. They are things which, done by Belgium, are heinous in English eyes. He proceeds to justify them by their motive and their end. He aims to show a notable difference between these things as Belgian and as English. He seems to feel that the fact of a portion of the product of these acts being used to benefit the native is an ample excuse. But so long as (a) the judge of the value of the return made to the sufferer is the usurper, and not the recipient, there is no difference between a well-meaning overlord and a bloody-minded tyrant; and (b) as long as the taxed is not consulted and his permission is not gained for taxation, there is only injustice in its infliction, no matter for what end. Sir Harry uses the word “logic.” A logical argument leaves him and Leopold in precisely the same position with reference to the native.
Sir Harry closes his introduction with a strange and interesting statement. He says:
“The danger in this state of affairs lies in the ferment of hatred which is being created against the white race in general, by the agents of the king of Belgium, in the minds of the Congo negroes. The negro has a remarkably keen sense of justice. He recognizes in British Central Africa, in East Africa, in Nigeria, in South Africa, in Togoland, Dahomey, the Gold Coast, Sierra Leone, and Senegambia that, on the whole, though the white men ruling in those regions have made some mistakes and committed some crimes, have been guilty of some injustice, yet that the state of affairs they have brought into existence as regards the black man is one infinitely superior to that which preceded the arrival of the white man as a temporary ruler. Therefore, though there may be a rising here or a partial tumult there, the mass of the people increase and multiply with content and acquiesce in our tutelary position.
“Were it otherwise, any attempt at combination on their part would soon overwhelm us and extinguish our rule. Why, in the majority of cases, the soldiers with whom we keep them in subjection are of their own race. But unless some stop can be put to the misgovernment of the Congo region, I venture to warn those who are interested in African politics that a movement is already begun and is spreading fast which will unite the negroes against the white race, a movement which will prematurely stamp out the beginnings of the new civilization we are trying to implant, and against which movement, except so far as the actual coast line is concerned, the resources of men and money which Europe can put into the field will be powerless.”
This is curious and interesting. But it is scarcely logical or candid. Allow me to quote beside Sir Harry’s observations the following, taken from the papers of March 4, 1906:
“Sir Arthur Lawley, who has just been appointed governor of Madras, after devoting many years to the administration of the Transvaal, gave frank utterance the other day, before his departure from South Africa for India, to his conviction that ere long a great rising of the blacks against the whites will take place, extending all over the British colonies from the Cape to the Zambesi. Sir Arthur, who is recognized as an authority on all problems connected with the subject of native races, besides being a singularly level-headed man, spoke with profound earnestness when he explained in the course of the farewell address: ‘See to this question. For it is the greatest problem you have to face.’ And the solemn character of his valedictory warning was rendered additionally impressive in the knowledge that it was based upon information beyond all question.”
It is certain that the affairs in the Congo Free State have produced neither restlessness nor concerted action in British Africa. Why is it that on both sides of Southern Africa there have been recent outbreaks of turbulence? The natives, indeed, seem ungrateful for the benefits of English rule. Sir Arthur Lawley looks for a rising over the whole of British Africa, from the Cape to the Zambesi. In what way can the misgovernment of the Congo by its ruler have produced a condition so threatening? Both these gentlemen have reason, perhaps, for their fears of an outbreak, but as I have said, there is neither logic nor candor in attributing the present agitation in Southern Africa to King Leopold.
What really is the motive underlying the assault upon the Congo? What has maintained an agitation and a propaganda with apparently such disinterested aims? Personally, although I began my consideration of the question with a different belief, I consider it entirely political and selfish. Sir Harry Johnston naïvely says: “When I first visited the western regions of the Congo it was in the days of imperialism, when most young Britishers abroad could conceive of no better fate for an undeveloped country than to come under the British flag. The outcome of Stanley’s work seemed to me clear; it should be eventually the Britannicising of much of the Congo basin, perhaps in friendly agreement and partition of interests with France and Portugal.”
Unquestionably this notion of the proper solution of the question took possession of many minds in Great Britain at the same time. And England was never satisfied with the foundation of the Congo Free State as an independent nation.
A little further on, Sir Harry states that the British missionaries of that time were against such solution; they did not wish the taking over of the district by Great Britain. And why? “They anticipated troubles and bloodshed arising from any attempt on the part of Great Britain to subdue the vast and unknown regions of the Congo, even then clearly threatened by Arabs.” In other words, Britons at home would have been glad to have absorbed the Congo; Britons on the ground feared the trouble and bloodshed necessary. But now that the Belgians have borne the trouble and the bloodshed and paid the bills, Britain does not despise the plum. Indeed, Britain’s ambitions in Africa are magnificent. Why should she not absorb the entire continent? She has Egypt—temporarily—and shows no sign of relinquishing it; she has the Transvaal and the Orange Free State; how she picked a quarrel and how she seized them we all know. Now she could conveniently annex the Congo.
The missionaries in the Congo Free State are no doubt honest in saying, what they say on every possible occasion, that they do not wish England to take over the country; that they would prefer to have it stay in Belgian hands; that, however, they would have the Belgian government itself responsible instead of a single person. I believe them honest when they say this, but I think them self-deceived; I feel convinced that if the question was placed directly to them, “Shall England or Belgium govern the Congo?” and they knew that their answer would be decisive, their vote would be exceedingly one-sided and produce a change of masters. But the missionaries are not the British government; they do not shape the policies of the empire; their agitation may be useful to the scheming politician and may bring about results which they themselves had not intended. It is always the scheme of rulers and of parties to take advantage of the generous outbursts of sympathy and feeling of the masses for their selfish ends.
The missionaries and many of the prominent agitators in the propaganda against the Free State have said they would be satisfied if Belgium takes over the government. This statement never has seemed to me honest or candid. The agitators will not be suited if Belgium takes the Congo; I have said this all the time, and the incidents of the last few days have demonstrated the justness of my opinion. Already hostility to Belgian ownership is evident. It will increase. When the king really turns the Congo Free State government into Belgium’s hands the agitation will continue, complaints still will be made, and conditions will be much as formerly.
Great Britain never has been the friend of the Congo Free State; its birth thwarted her plans; its continuance threatens her commerce and interferes with expansion and with the carrying out of grand enterprises. In the earlier edition of his little book entitled “The Colonization of Africa,” Sir Harry Johnston spoke in high terms of the Congo Free State and the work which it was doing. In the later editions of the same book he retracts his words of praise; he quotes the atrocities and maladministration of the country. My quotation is not verbal, as for the moment I have not the book at hand, but he ends by saying something of this sort: “Belgium should rule the Congo Free State; it may safely be allowed to govern the greater portion of that territory.”
“The greater portion of the territory”—and what portion is it that Belgium perhaps cannot well govern? Of course, that district through which the Cape-to-Cairo Railroad would find its most convenient roadbed. If Great Britain can get that, we shall hear no more of Congo atrocities. There are two ways possible in which this district may be gained. If England can enlist our sympathy, our aid, our influence, she may bid defiance to Germany and France and seize from Leopold or from little Belgium so much of the Congo Free State as she considers necessary for her purpose, leaving the rest to the king or to his country.
If we are not to be inveigled into such assistance, she may, in time and by good diplomacy, come to an understanding with France and Germany for the partition of the Free State. Of course, in such event France would take that section which adjoins her territory, Germany would take the whole Kasai, which was first explored and visited by German travelers, and England would take the eastern portion, touching on Uganda and furnishing the best site for her desired railroad.
The same steamer which took me to the Congo carried a newly appointed British vice-consul to that country. On one occasion he detailed to a missionary friend his instructions as laid down in his commission. I was seated close by those in conversation, and no attempt was made on my part to overhear or on their part toward secrecy. His statement indicated that the prime object of his appointment was to make a careful examination of the Aruwimi River, to see whether its valley could be utilized for a railroad. The second of the four objects of his appointment was to secure as large a volume as possible of complaints from British subjects (blacks) resident in the Congo Free State. The third was to accumulate all possible information regarding atrocities upon the natives. These three, out of four, objects of his appointment seem to be most interesting and suggestive.
On a later occasion I was in company with this same gentleman. A missionary present had expressed anxiety that the report of the commission of inquiry and investigation should appear. It will be remembered that a considerable time elapsed between the return of the commission to Europe and the publishing of its report. After the missionary had expressed his anxiety for its appearance and to know its contents, the vice-consul remarked: “It makes no difference when the report appears; it makes no difference if it never appears; the British government has decided upon its course of action, and it will not be influenced by whatever the commission’s report may contain.” Comment upon this observation is superfluous.
Upon the Atlantic steamer which brought us from Antwerp to New York City there was a young Canadian returning from three years abroad. He knew that we had been in the Congo Free State, and on several occasions conversed with me about my journey. We had never referred to atrocities, nor conditions, nor politics. One day, with no particular reason in the preceding conversation for the statement, he said: “Of course, the Belgians will lose the Congo. We have got to have it. We must build the Cape-to-Cairo road. You know, we wanted the Transvaal. We found a way to get it; we have it. So we will find some way to get the Congo.”
Of course, this was the remark of a very young man. But the remarks of young men, wild and foolish though they often sound, usually voice the feelings and thoughts which older men cherish, but dare not speak.