CHAPTER XIXART AND WAR
In thePrinciples of SociologyMr. Spencer has devoted some of his most forcible paragraphs to a treatment of the social influences of war. By adducing and comparing with each other types of social life among different tribes, he has been able to show how military customs everywhere tend to reduce the individual liberty and strengthen the central power.[415]Many other writers on sociology have perceived and commented on the truism that the internal coherence of tribes has been chiefly produced by the need of combination for defensive purposes.[416]But perhaps sufficient attention has not been paid to the share which art has had in the development of those peculiarities which are common to all military nations. And yet as a means of facilitating tribal unity of action and feeling, music and dance must be of exceptional sociological importance in warlike communities.[417]
We shall therefore meet with highly developed choral dances in those nations in whose life war is a customaryoccurrence. The North American Indians,[418]as well as the Dahomeyans,[419]are noted for the soldier-like regularity of their dances. But nowhere among the lower tribes of mankind is the time-sense so refined as among the pre-eminently warlike Maori. Notwithstanding the furious movements in their war dances, the gesticulation of all the participants is always uniform and regular.[420]According to Cruise the very slightest motions of their fingers are simultaneous;[421]and, if we are to believe Mr. Bidwill, even their eyes all move together.[422]Highly accomplished dancers as are certain other Polynesian tribes[423]less warlike than the Maori, it will be admitted that such a pitch of more than Prussian precision would never have been attained if it were not for its military advantages. To the same cause one is also tempted to ascribe the regularity of the Kaffir dances,[424]which bytheir choral character stand in so marked a contrast to the amusements of the neighbour tribe, the peaceful Hottentots, among whom every dancer acts “separately for himself.”[425]
It is evident that a regular co-operation in fighting is effectually promoted by rhythmical music. And we do in fact find that music, especially instrumental music, at the lower stages of development is closely connected with war.[426]It is, however, more natural to assume that military music, and similarly military poetry and dance, have had their chief importance not as regulating but as stimulating influences. There are many tribes which seem quite unable to observe any kind of military discipline. But even in the undeveloped and unmethodical warfare of the lowest savages, music, songs, and dances have been used as means of infusing courage and strength. The psychology of these military stimuli is of course the same as that of industrial art. But the general principles appear with far greater clearness when applied to this peculiar kind of activity.
First of all, the need of stimulation is never so great as when a man has to risk his life in an open battle. If in work he has to overcome his natural inertia, laziness, he has here to overcome the still stronger obstacle of fear. Contrary to the romantic notions of popular literature, primitive man seems to be timorous rather than brave when not encouraged by adventitious excitement.[427]This cowardice can, however, to a greatextent be explained by defective military organisation. Where the mutual support which the well-drilled soldiers of a regular army render each other is lacking, the need of personal courage is of course so much the greater. Civilised warfare tries to avoid the conflict between the instinct of self-preservation and of a soldier’s duty by the pressure of strict discipline; savage warfare, which cannot count on the same forces of submission and mental control, is compelled to minimise this conflict by deadening the consciousness of peril. Hence the indispensability of some means of producing violent excitement by which the necessary forgetfulness of danger and death may be attained.[428]
Apart from the influence of fear, the task of slaughter is one which, from its very nature, cannot be performed in cold blood. Even where the element of danger is absent, as when unarmed foes are killed or tortured, the savage executioners do not generally get to work straight away. As soon as a beginning has been made, a sort of intoxication will indeed be produced by mental as well as physical agencies, such as the sight of blood or the pride of conquest. But this intoxication, so eagerly desired by savages in civilised as well as in primitive communities, cannot be produced even in the lowest tribes of man without a preliminary working up. The passion of cruelty, like that of love, is, in its higher and more ecstatic forms, too overwhelming in its mental effects to be attained without an artificial enhancement of psychical capacity. But whereas the erotic feelingstend with growing development to become more and more a private matter, cruelty is among warlike tribes an emotion of national importance. The incitement to slaughter is therefore apt to become social—that is, common to several individuals at once. This is one of the reasons why war is of so much greater importance than love as a motive for tribal art.
There are some tribes in which the soldiers try to acquire courage and thirst for blood by magical expedients, such as smearing themselves with some powerful unguent, or eating the raw meat of a newly slaughtered ox.[429]Sometimes a joint tattooing of the whole corps with a common pattern is undertaken, most probably for the same magical purpose.[430]But however effectually such ceremonies may be supposed to operate, savages do not generally put so much trust in them as to give up their favourite means of stimulation—music and dancing. In people who sincerely believe in their own magic any rite will of course arouse increased confidence and courage. But this suggestive influence is only indirect in comparison with the immediate psychological effects of inciting dances.
Popular novels have familiarised us all with the weird war dances which play such an important part in the warfare of the North American Indians. In its main features this type of pantomimic incitement is the same everywhere—among the African and Oceanic tribes as well as among the savage nations described in classic literature.[431]By imitating the movements of areal fight, by exulting cries, deafening noise, and brandishing of weapons, the dancers work themselves up to a pitch of frenzy which cannot be compared to anything but a transient madness. Especially among the nations of America war dances often arouse so much excitement, even when performed during times of perfect peace, that they become dangerous to friendly and peaceful onlookers.[432]Here also—just as in the Hungarian “Enlistment”—dancing is used as a means of enticing men to join the ranks of the war chief who wants recruits for some war-expedition.[433]
It is evident that the influence of such pantomimes is not restricted to a generalised stimulation and encouragement. These sham fights, just as the sportive imitations of work, must facilitate the execution of those movements which they imitate. And even those who do not join the dance will profit by watching the evolutions which they themselves will afterwards be called on to perform in reality. Thus there may originally have been a very utilitarian reason for the curious warfare of the Headhunters of Ceram, who always have the Jakalele dance performed in front of their fighting line. It is pathetic to read that even intheir wars with the Dutchmen a few fantastically dressed dancers head the advance against the repeating guns of the European force.[434]
This fact, which is certainly not without its parallels in other savage tribes, gives the most convincing proof of the indispensability of pantomimic stimulation to savage warfare. Although less intimately connected with fighting itself, poetry has had for war an importance which can scarcely be estimated at a much lower rate. Words, of course, can never provoke such a direct and almost physiological stimulation as the imitation of actions. But words, on the other hand, have a greater effect on the mind. The suggestive power of the war songs is also attested by the descriptions of travellers among various tribes. In Australia, for instance, four or five mischievously inclined old women can soon stir up forty or fifty men to any deed of blood by means of their chants, which are accompanied by tears and groans, until the men are worked into a perfect state of frenzy.[435]“The savage blood of the Ahts always boiled when the war songs were recited, their fingers worked convulsively on the paddles, and their eyes gleamed ferociously; altogether they were two hundred murderous-looking villains.”[436]In Ashanti and in New Zealand—in short, amongst all the most warlike tribes—the military singers are able to bring themselves and their audience up to a pitch of frenzy which is almost equal to that produced by the dances.[437]
In one of the preceding chapters we have already pointed out how invaluable a support historic art has given to national pride. This feeling, on the other hand, is never so indispensable as in time of war. Wherever a tribe has any traditions of its past history, such traditions are always revived and recited to the soldiers before and during the battles.[438]And if a people has no glorious ancestors to boast of, it can none the less gain the necessary confidence by glorifying its own valour and reviling its enemies. Even tribes like the Bakairis, for example, are thus able to “sing themselves full of courage” in boasting and defiant exultation.[439]
According to competent observers, such songs are more particularly employed when the natives are afraid.[440]The expression of bravery, even if originally affected, must necessarily awaken some real feeling of pride or confidence. Contempt, on the other hand, however laboriously worked up, is the most effectual means of preserving equanimity under the stress of depressing feelings, admiration, envy, or fear. Songs and pantomimes, such as, for instance, those with which the Polynesians invariably begin their battles, must therefore have a great power of emboldening the warriors.[441]And while such outward shows of valour enable the performersto reconquer their courage, the enemy is intimidated by these manifestations of a feeling which is as yet incipient within themselves. In warfare, where the hostile armies stand within sight and hearing of each other, this consideration must of course be of extreme importance.
It seems, indeed, as if natural selection had developed in man an almost instinctive tendency to overcome fear by simulating the expressions proper to valour and menace. Just as animals, when frightened, make themselves bigger and more formidable to their enemies, whether from fear or anger we know not, so man tries to awaken fear in the enemy confronting him at the same time, and by the same means, as he vanquishes his own fear. This appears with especial clearness in wars between savage races, where both sides often seem to be as timid as they try to appear formidable and courageous. Their threats and boastings are terrifying enough, but the real fights are very bloodless and free from danger. Among the Cammas “the words really seem to do more damage than the blows.”[442]The gallant game of bluff is in primitive politics not restricted to diplomatic negotiations; it plays an important part in the actual fighting. This remains true even with regard to tribes which are capable of real courage, not only in stealthy assault, but also in open battle. The Maorian military pantomimes afford the best example of such a manifestation, which not only stimulates the warriors to fight and regulates their movements in the battle, but also, as a European traveller has been compelled to admit, “strikes terror into the heart of any man.”[443]Inthis case the terrible effect is further strengthened by the hideous grimaces, rolling of the eyes, protruding of the tongue, and so on, with which the warriors accompany their dance.[444]So important is this distortion of the countenance considered by the Maoris, that instruction in the art of grimacing forms a part in their military education.[445]The most warlike of savage tribes thus does not despise the naïve expedient which constitutes almost the sole means of self-defence among peaceful Eskimos.[446]And so highly do the Maoris appreciate the terrifying effects of the protruded tongue, that they carve the grimace upon their spears, the “hanis,” evidently in the belief that such representations will—perhaps by some magic power—demoralise the enemy.[447]
This pictorial pantomime brings us to the employment of formative arts in war. To some extent even painting, especially in its decorative branches, may be considered as a means of exhortation. The various decorations of the body which are usually adopted for fighting no doubt raise the courage of their wearers. A festival dress, when assumed for battle—for example, by the Khonds—must needs bring with it a light and festive mood.[448]The red colour, so often used in military dress, tends, on the other hand, to arouse increased vigour by direct physiological as well as by associative action.[449]Perhaps also, as some old authors suggest, the use of red may have had a negative importance by concealing the wounds and the blood, which else might depress the men and encourage their enemies.[450]Like every beautiful thing, highly ornamented weapons will afford their owners an invigorating feeling of pride, which, however,—to judge from the unheroic character of many tribes whose weapons are most gorgeously decorated,—does not seem to be of any great military advantage.[451]
Military ensigns, such as banners, standards, and the like, will naturally, as outward symbols of the tribe, exercise an exciting influence on the warriors. Even for barbarous nations, with their undeveloped feelings of patriotism, in the modern sense of the word, a flag may representla patrie en marche. Well knowing the moral value of these apparently unimportant things, the Aztecs employed in their army men whose only task was “to remove from the eyes of the enemy every object that could heighten their courage and inflame their pride.”[452]
The importance of field badges is of course increased when, as generally is the case, they are adorned with some religious or magical representation. Be it a tutelar saint, a heathen god, or simply a totem animal, which is depicted, these images will always be relied upon as a strong support to the army.[453]The marvellous tales of assistance afforded by idols which have been carried in the front of battle may of course have somereal foundation in the encouraging mental effects produced upon the warriors.
It thus appears that ornaments, painting, and sculpture have been of no small influence in enhancing the fighting powers of warlike nations. Among the lower tribes of man these arts are, however, on the whole much more appreciated as means of frightening the enemy. As was mentioned in a preceding chapter, some bodily deformations are, if we may believe the natives, undertaken solely for this purpose.[454]Other warlike tribes endeavour to make themselves dreaded by their enemies by staining their bodies with ghastly colours, blood-red, azure, or black. Tattooing may, of course, often aim at the same end. And among the detached ornaments there is an especial class—for which the German ethnologists have invented the characteristic designation “Schreckschmuck”—which are only worn in order to make the appearance more frightful. The war helmets of the Thlinkeets[455]and the curious tooth masks of the Papuas are the most typical specimens of this pre-eminently warlike decoration.[456]
The highest development of art as a means of terrifying is, however, to be found in the decorated shields of the Dyaks. No form of pictorial threat could be more effectual than the devices which ornament the face of these ghastly weapons. A grinning mouth, with sharp tusks in either jaw, is always to be found in the middle of the shield. Above it stand a pair of staring,circular eyes, usually surrounded by dark and light concentric rings. Sometimes also there is a highly simplified outline of the lower parts of the body. The trunk is completely ignored, and arms and legs are quite swamped in a bewilderment of entangled lines, which extend over the whole surface of the shield. But in this ornamentation the warlike motive is repeated over and over again. Tusks protrude from the scrolls, and big round eyes stare menacingly out between them. Thus even the decorative “padding” (Einfüllung) operates as a multiplied expression of defiant menace. As an eloquent commentary on this text the whole shield is furthermore hung with tufts of human hair,—trophies of vanquished enemies,—which partly conceal the brown, red, and black design.[457]The whole composition, which in a description may seem merely bizarre and brutal, is, however, executed with a severe symmetry and a wild grace which afford a most peculiar contrast to the weird motive. By these æsthetic qualities the ornamentation acquires an art-value which is quite independent of its supposed military advantages. One can indeed easily understand that the savage foes of the Dyaks may be paralysed with terror when confronted in battle with those glaring eyes and menacing jaws. But even the civilised observer who examines at his ease the shields which stand in the glass cases of ethnological collections must needs be impressed by their power. Though they do not frighten us, they are not, as might be expected, mere examples of ridiculous grimace. They still extort our admiration for that weird kind of beauty which, in primitive art as well as in animal warningcolorationn, is so often found in close connection with the feelings of terror.
We have deemed it profitable to dwell at some length on these remarkable products of savage decorative art. The demon shields of the Dyaks, in spite of the fact that their motives have evidently been borrowed from Chinese and Indian art,[458]are eminently representative of the nation and its socialmilieu. These wild men of the woods have been able to express in their ornamental composition, better than would have been possible in any higher form of art, all the intense feelings of their wild romantic life. The terror and intoxication of slaughter, as they are experienced in a tribe for which furtive murder is the holiest of all religious actions, speak their violent language in the glaring patterns. But at the same time the elegant design, which is so characteristic a peculiarity of the shields, as well as of every other specimen of Dyak art, corresponds to the graceful and elegant personal appearance which, according to the unanimous verdict of all travellers, distinguishes these fierce savages.[459]And it seems as if this gracefulness, no less than the weird emotional content of the pictures, may be derived from the custom of head-hunting. The continuous insecurity which has given its own character even to the Dyak architecture[460]has of course not been without its influence on the physical development of the tribe itself. Where assault from insidious enemies is always to be expected, and where the type of fighting is single combat, lightness and suppleness of movement must be indispensable for the struggle for existence. We can, therefore, easily understand how these people have acquired that natural grace which similar utilitarian causes have developed among all mountainous animals, and among most beasts of prey.[461]Nor is it difficult to comprehend that this beauty of the human body, once called into existence by natural selection, must have awakened æsthetic attention to form and grace, and thus indirectly influenced even the manifestations of ornamental art.
If it be objected that such sociological explanations of decorative patterns are too far-fetched, we at once refer to the marvellous Maori ornaments, in which the temperament of another warlike tribe has found a most characteristic expression. Like the fantastic convolutions on the Dyak shields, the flaming scrolls of black and red which extend over the ceilings and walls of the Maori houses unmistakably attest their origin from a nation which war has made violent, vigorous, and intensely energetic.[462]Generally speaking, it may be futile to seek for any differentiated expressional qualities in such an impersonal and unemotional art as that of linear ornament. But in face of these powerful designs even the most neutral observer will be struck with the strong emotional exaltation which has here found a vent, not in words, or sounds, or images, but in pure lines and colours. Such mighty strokes, so full of life and agitation, could never have been drawn by any peaceful and quiet natives. The velocity and the wild inspiration of these patterns are only possible in a nation which has experienced in continuous fights an ever-repeated state of high-strung emotional excitement.
The more official Maori decorative art, the Moko, aswell as the Maori sculpture, probably because of their close connection with religion, are too rigid in their traditional character to admit of any strongly pronounced emotional content. But the influence of warlike exaltation has instead made itself felt in the poetical productions of the race. And, as has already been pointed out, but for the military type of life dancing could not have reached so marvellous a degree of development. Owing to the more organised character of Maori warfare, military customs do not, as among the Dyaks, aim chiefly at producing suppleness and graceful movements in the individual. But one has only to read the enthusiastic descriptions of the painter Earle in order to realise the influence which military customs have even here exercised on the development of plastic beauty.[463]
The Dyaks and Maoris are but two of the most typical among savage tribes whose artistic productions have grown up under the auspices of war. For a complete account of art in its connection with war it would be necessary to dwell on the war songs of the North American Indians,[464]to give some account of the art-style which is found in the military despotisms of Western Africa,[465]and to describe in detail the poetry which has been called into existence by the continuous tribal feuds of the North African nomadic hordes.[466]In its broad aspects, however, the æsthetic importance of war will, we hope, appear with sufficient clearness from the cursory review which has been given above.
We have seen that war, as the hardest form of the struggle for life, has needed, more than any other kindof work, the support which æsthetic stimulation affords to practical activities. And the art which has developed under its influence has, to a greater degree than is usual in primitive production, fulfilled the conditions of emotional community and emotional intensity. Moreover, the requirements of fighting have called forth æsthetic qualities of power and gracefulness in the physical type which seem to be reflected even in artistic creation. Thus the art-production of military tribes has everywhere, independently of racial and climatic influences, acquired some common qualities; their decorative arts, as well as their poetry and dramatic dances, are always characterised by an intense and forcible life, which is often combined with dignified power and graceful elegance.
All these are, of course, only restricted merits, which correspond to some striking deficiencies. It is easily understood that art-life in a military state of society always tends to be circumscribed within the narrow boundaries of tribal sympathy. It may also be pointed out, at least as a curious and significant coincidence, that descriptive and figurative art, in the sense of realistic, faithful rendering of nature and life, has never attained any high development among the most military tribes. Such a sympathetic interest in the picturesque qualities of the human and animal body as that which characterises the art of the prehistoric European cave-dwellers, the Bushmen, and the Eskimo, does not seem compatible with the customs of war. In this connection it is not our business to estimate critically the comparative importance of these merits and deficiencies: we have only to point out the undeniable significance which, from an historical point of view, must be accorded to war as a factor in the development of art.