CHAPTER IV

SOCIAL LIFE

Property--Slavery--Utilitarian morals--A bashful race--The Levirate--Law and custom--An amateur arbitrator--Principles and practice of the Ordeal.

The Moï who inhabit the more northerly portion of this country have largely fallen under the domination of their neighbours the Laotians. In the south, however, in spite of their proximity to the warlike and powerful Annamites, the Moï have, to a large degree, resisted absorption and preserved their independence. Consequently their immemorial institutions have survived the chances and changes of the centuries without appreciable modification.

The unit of administration is the village, which forms a kind of anarchical republic with a nominal chief who is elected. As a general rule these shadow potentates are chosen either for their physical prowess or reputed moral superiority. The Chief's powers are not transferable and lapse on his death.

It sometimes happens that several villages of the same region are united by community of interests or family alliances. The union is then cemented by the formation of a league with a view to defence against common enemies. From such associations for mutual insurance the tribe takes its origin. In many cases one of the first signs that this new organization has become a social or political entity is the appearance of an obligation on its members to intermarry.

It is well known that in the primitive ages of the Aryan races the tribesmen were not only shepherds rather than warriors but also essentially nomadic in habit. It was in the character of owners-in-common that they held the land on which they pastured their flocks. Later, when they began to settle in defined localities to till the soil, the ownership of property ceased to be collective. As population and the area under cultivation increased, private property appeared at first as the right of the family and finally as the right of the individual.

Even to-day, however, we see traces of such primitive collectivism in the "Mir" of Russia, the "Dessa" of Java, and the "Zadruga" of Bulgaria. The peculiarity of the Moï is that they exhibit the three forms of ownership, collective, family, and individual, in conjunction.

Evidence of the communistic basis of their proprietary system is plentiful and cumulative. The whole group takes part in the acquisition and development of a tract of land sufficient to satisfy all their needs. The trophies of war, the spoils of the chase and the harvests are divided equally among those entitled to them. Inequality of distribution is almost unknown. The Chief reserves a portion in addition to his own to offer as a sacrifice to the Spirits or to dispense in hospitality to strangers.

There is equally strong evidence of the system of family ownership of property. Every family has its private residence and household implements. This economic dispensation accounts for differences of wealth and station among members of the same communal group. For example a family in which there are many grown-up girls will become rich on the proceeds of their skill in weaving, pot-making, and other spheres of activity.

The individual ownership of property seems to be confined to jewellery, pipes, weapons, and similar objects which any man can make for himself. Further, any member of the group is entitled to do what he likes with the portion of food distributed to him. In most cases if he does not consume it himself he will lend it to some less thrifty neighbour who finds his store exhausted. If the day for repayment comes round and the liability is not discharged, the borrower, his wife and children, become the absolute property of the lender whose sole obligation is to support them. The debtor thus becomes a slave, or rather, to speak more accurately, a servant for life. It is not at all unusual in times of great scarcity for the Moï to sell both themselves and their families when faced with the prospect of starvation. These facts are well known to our Government, which is powerless to prevent such evils so long as the imperfect means of communication prevent the easy transport of food supplies from a fertile region to a famine-stricken province.

Trading in slaves is prohibited, but there is no doubt that it goes on in secret.

In principle the debtor-slave can procure his own redemption by his own labour. But the value of that labour is calculated by the master and at so ridiculous a figure that in practice hardly any slave earns his freedom before his death. The annual value of the labour of a strong man is reckoned at about five francs more than the cost of his support. Further, if a slave does not satisfy his master he may be resold at a price which represents an increase of twenty-five per cent. on the original debt.

The system may truly be described as in every sense an exploitation of human misery. At the current rate of calculation it may take several generations of sufferers to pay off the first debt.

In theory there is another mode of redemption. On his master's death a slave can recover his liberty by sacrificing a buffalo and placing a small portion of the flesh in the mouth of the deceased. The mere idea of a debtor-slave having the means to buy a buffalo is one to provoke bitter mirth!

Any reform should aim at an equitable calculation of the value of the services rendered and the rate of interest should be drastically revised. This rate, which is extremely exorbitant, soon trebles and even quadruples the amount of the original debt. It is to be noted, however, that a slave shares in the family life, is consulted in any crisis that may arise, and, if a woman, may inherit. Cruelty and ill-usage are rare, and even where they exist there is some safeguard in the slave's right of appeal to the village Elders.

A female slave is protected against any abuse of authority by her master. If he violates her she is freed at once by the act.

In Babylon the law was equally favourable to slaves and even went so far as to permit them to contract independently of their masters under the ingenious system of _peculium_. It was also quite usual for anyone to escape from an embarrassing financial position by entering on a kind of voluntary servitude which could be terminated in time by payment of a sum for redemption out of the earnings of the service. Further, it was enacted by Hammurabi's code, two thousand years before the Christian era, that a creditor, after three years, must set free the wife or daughter of his debtor if he had accepted them as sureties for the debt.

The laws of the Hebrews likewise permitted an insolvent debtor to sell himself and his family into bondage to extinguish a debt. A peculiar feature in this case was the debtor's right to sell his wife or daughters and himself retain his liberty.

The laws of the Annamites forbid this same transaction, but there is no doubt that it frequently takes place. Custom in these matters is of far more force than the law, and the actual nature of the contract is concealed under various disguises.

The Chinese code contains a special provision relating to "The letting on hire of wives or daughters."

Another force working to the same end is the fact that in countries in which individualistic ownership of land prevails, and where labour is scarce the owner stops at nothing to increase the number of hands on his estate. This necessity is the mother of all manner of abuses, to which the weakest naturally fall victims.

The Sorcerers, for example, impose the most exorbitant fines on those who have failed to carry out the least detail of the rites. A penalty thus inflicted constitutes the delinquent to all intents and purposes a slave of the offended Spirit. He has to place himself at the disposal of the Sorcerer, the representative of the deity. Another species of slavery is created by the capture of prisoners of war. There are no provisions in law or custom for their redemption or liberation except by way of exchange. Otherwise the servitude is deemed perpetual.

The independent Moï have recourse to a raid on their neighbours, the Annamites, when their stock of slaves falls low. The prisoner of war is considered as belonging to an inferior order of creation with no status and few rights. A woman may not marry and neither male nor female may inherit; but the law contemplates the case of a free woman marrying a male prisoner of war. The father and the male children become the slaves of the woman. Female children are freed. If the children are all boys or all girls they are divided and one half become the slaves of the other.

In short, although less cruel and inhuman than wholesale slaughter, slavery is one of the most blighting institutions in these barbarous regions. The Moï prefer the milder to the more drastic treatment, not from any motives of altruism but solely from considerations of self-interest. The death of an individual for religious disobedience or even the commission of a crime profits no one, but material benefits accrue both to the private citizen and to the state from the fine imposed or the services exacted as punishment. The most superficial investigation reveals the essential utilitarianism of the conception of justice which obtains among the Moï.

No less utilitarian is their conception of morality. They never ask whether an act is good or bad in itself, for abstract standards of right and wrong are unknown to them. They merely ask whether the act is prejudicial to private or public well-being. It follows from this that crimes against the individual are punished far less severely than crimes against the state, and further that the most serious offences are those which touch material prosperity and enjoyment. A theft of rice from the public granary is punished by enslavement, for rice is the staple food and an indispensable necessity to the whole group. The same theft from a private individual is regarded only as a minor offence punishable summarily by fine. In this case Society does not suffer, or at least only indirectly and to an imperceptible degree.

In the same way a murderer receives no punishment if his act is one of vengeance for a similar crime. He is exacting the price of blood, and the blood-feud is recognized and approved. It is highly meritorious to kill a foreigner or a public enemy, and the slayer becomes _ipso facto_ a popular hero.

This conception of morality is the production of tradition and has been influenced in various ways by the jurisdiction of the Sorcerers over a number of offences, especially those relating to sex and ritual.

It has long been popularly supposed that races in a rudimentary stage of civilization enjoy absolute immunity from regulation in the matter of sexual relations. Nothing could be further from the truth, the evidence all pointing the other way. Indeed, paradoxical as it may seem, it is none the less true that sexual relations of primitive peoples are more restricted, more bound round by various interdictions, than those of peoples which have reached a higher stage of development. It is plain that we have often confused complete sexual licence with the exercise of perfectly limited and defined rights which are only permitted during certain public festivals. It is only necessary in this connection to remind ourselves of the Saturnalia in Rome.

The same error appears in the popular attitude towards polyandry, which is frequently attributed to the moral abandonment of the women. In reality the system is no less organized and regulated than that of polygamy. Further, all educated travellers who have lived long enough among primitive races to attain some degree of intimacy have expressed surprise at their reticence in speaking of these matters. They display the most marked repugnance to give any information about their women, and if pressed to answer questions, take refuge in evasion or refuse to continue the conversation.

It is only after years spent amongst them, and, after winning their confidence, mainly by medical services, that a European can penetrate at all into that region of mystery from which he is jealously excluded.

Some of the following observations are the result of personal investigation. Others are made on the authority of several of my countrymen with the experience of a long residence in the country behind them, while others again are founded on information supplied by the natives which I have myself verified. Some of my remarks apply only to a tribe or a particular region, but in many cases they hold good of the whole group, and even of a wider circle, for it must never be forgotten that resemblances are encountered everywhere between the customs of these folk and those, not only of other peoples of the Far East, but also of the semi-savages of Africa and Polynesia.

I have had occasion to speak before of the custom, practised by several of the Moï tribes, of killing the firstborn if no one comes forward to claim the paternity. Thanks to this convenient institution, it is quite usual for a young girl to become a mother solely to prove her fertility.

We find this same custom among the Bohindu of the Belgian Congo, where the girls indulge in promiscuous prostitution until conception takes place. This event guarantees them a husband, for sterility is a ground for divorce, and the man looks upon fertility as the highest virtue in a woman. Thus, calculated prostitution, if I may use the phrase, is not regarded with disfavour by some primitive peoples. Where the motive is other than the desire for maternity it is regarded merely as mental aberration or weakness of mind. If a woman gives herself without love, she is not a criminal but an idiot. The same attitude is displayed by the Abahua of the Belgian Congo. Each time that we made the acquaintance of a Moï tribe the Chief was careful to demonstrate his hospitality by the offer of some female slaves instructed to put themselves at our disposal. It seems that this act of courtesy is invariably extended to strangers of their own race, and consequently their astonishment was all the greater when we declined the honour.

This magnanimous custom is also found among several of the races which inhabit equatorial Africa, notably the Medgé and the Mangbetù.

Incestuous relationships are by no means uncommon among the Moï. I once spent several months in the village of Lebouy, where the chief was the father of his daughter's children. Nor was any exception taken to his action, which was regarded merely as the exercise of a right which immemorial precedent had sanctioned.

These incestuous connections are by no means confined to the eastern archipelago, but are constantly met with in Africa also. I need only mention the Avura-Gura of the Congo as an example. It is a mere matter of history that incest was practised and recognized by the royal family in ancient Egypt. The most usual instance was a union between sisters and brothers. The object, of course, was to ensure that the royal blood should be transmitted from generation to generation without any admixture of alien strains, and thus preserve its identity with its true and first origin the union of a god and some creature, such as the hawk or gryphon. The example of the princes soon found imitators among their subjects, and after being confined to the nobility and ruling classes, it spread among all orders of society. We possess an accumulation of proof, which places the matter beyond doubt, in the documents and inscriptions which archæological research has brought to light.

By way of contrast, a custom obtains among certain groups in Indo-China (though almost unknown elsewhere), especially the Man Coc, and Man Pa Tong, which formally prohibits intercourse between a woman and her father-in-law or uncles, and likewise between a man and his mother-in-law, his aunts, or his sisters-in-law. I shall have occasion further on to investigate this peculiar veto which is enforced by certain African tribes also.

The Levirate (from "Levir," a brother-in-law, in Sanscrit _dêvar_) is also found operating as a stringent injunction.

This, as everyone knows, takes its name from that law of Moses which commanded a brother-in-law to marry his deceased brother's widow (in cases where there had been no issue) in order to provide an heir to the family and to perpetuate his name. It was a species of "adoption beyond the tomb."

In the same way, there are laws among certain of the Moï tribes, such as the Radé, by which a widow is compelled to remarry with some member of her husband's family. Various reasons are assigned for this injunction, but primarily it is dictated by a desire to secure the inheritance to the family of the deceased.

I was told of several cases of bestiality which seemed to me, even if proved, to present no features worthy of comment. Sexual perversions of this character are not confined to any one country nor any one period, and it is sufficient to remark that nearly every race has legends of gods changing themselves into animals with the aim of uniting themselves with mortals. These fables are not mere fictions of a poet's brain but reminiscences of a distant period when Egyptians and Greeks worshipped animal-gods whom superstition had endowed with mortal offspring.

One fact which I was able to prove to my own satisfaction was the dietary regulations to which pregnant women are subjected. Among the prohibited foods at that period figures the flesh of all male animals which have not been castrated. Here, without doubt, is an analogy with the law of the Man-Coc that no sexual intercourse may take place after the third month of pregnancy. In particular, the mother-to-be must abstain from fat and green vegetables. She may undertake no kind of work, not even the most trivial of household duties.

Like other races with a low degree of civilization, the Moï attribute to physical excess of all kinds a loss of force which puts an individual at a disadvantage in his contest with the powers of the earth or the air. On this belief are based the rules which prescribe the preparations of one who is about to face some judicial test or ordeal. He must pass the previous night in a state of complete abstinence, so that his moral and physical condition shall be perfect for the trial he is to undergo. The golden rule is summed up in a motto of the Adio of Central Africa: "No man may face the ordeal if not pure in body and mind, sinless and unstained." It seems doubtful whether the origin of this belief is religious or experimental. We know that it flourished among the Egyptians from an early period.

It is impossible to obtain even the most superficial understanding of many Moï laws and institutions without investigating the peculiar conceptions of morality on which they are based.

A Moï woman appears before the Council of the Ancients with a charge that some man has touched her without her consent. A fine is inflicted on the accused varying in amount with the importance of the part of the body which he touched. If there has been complete seduction and the seducer refuses to marry the complainant the fine is doubled.

Perhaps it is a husband who complains that his wife has committed adultery on three different occasions with three different men. He himself will be punished, and the sentence will be accompanied by some withering reflections on his incompetence and complacence, hardly flattering to his vanity. I ought to add that this curious judicial perversion is met with only on the shores of the great lakes, where morals are less rigid than in other parts of Indo-China.

I was told that among a few groups adultery is not considered criminal if the woman's accomplice is a relation of her husband. The Batua of the Congo also seem to regard this as an extenuating circumstance, but their neighbours, the Medgé and the Mangbetù, take a precisely opposite view and rigorously forbid brothers to seduce each other's wives. All the Moï consider it a gross aggravation of the offence if the seducer takes advantage of the husband's absence in war or the hunting-field.

I have already recorded that I was frequently prevailed on by the Moï to act as arbitrator in their disputes. I have the gravest misgivings that my judgments did more credit to my kindly intentions than to my legal knowledge.

I always made a point of using all my resources to impress the litigants with a due sense of the importance of the occasion and the dignity of the tribunal.

A scarlet cloth is thrown over my folding table. Next the huge blue-cotton umbrella, whose humble function is to protect our theodolite from the sun's rays, is commandeered to shelter the miserable packing-case which serves me for my curule chair. I don a wide-brimmed Boer hat and my revolver-case is reverentially attached to my belt by my boy, who is crier, clerk, and usher all in one.

To-day the case in the list is:

"Annamite _v._ Moï."

It would be altogether a miracle if the plaintiff did not herald his appearance with a present of some kind, in this case chickens, eggs and bananas. He is convulsed with astonishment when, incorruptible, I reject his bribes. His ordinary judges, the Mandarins, have other and better manners. They have not prepared him for such a rebuff.

The Moï, on the other hand, has brought nothing with which to seek my favour. Perhaps he is too poor or perhaps he has already sufficient faith in my impartiality.

The case opens with a recital of the facts in issue.

The Annamite tells his story first.

He bows three times, kisses the ground and remains on his knees throughout the hearing in accordance with the procedure prescribed for the plaintiff.

"I am a dealer in pigs," he tells me, "and I was bringing four of them to market in the hills.

"While passing through this Moï village the heat and my weariness compelled me to break my journey; so I sought out the Pholy with a request for hospitality and the shelter of my pigs in his sty. You may imagine my amazement when, on resuming my journey, I discovered that my fine animals, all more than two years old, were nowhere to be seen and had been replaced by four miserable creatures which are hardly six weeks old.

"I demand therefore that the great soldier Mandarin shall restore to me what is my own."

Questioned in turn, the defendant swears by the Spirit of the Hearth that the plaintiff's story is a mere tissue of lies. His version is that the Annamite took advantage of the previous night to steal some of his young pigs which had got loose in the neighbourhood, and that, failing to procure sufficient food for them, he had attempted to exchange them legally for animals of greater value.

Under these perplexing circumstances I find Solomon's mantle weighing heavily upon me.

Suddenly an inspiration comes to me, doubtless a gift from the Spirit of the Hearth.

If the animals have really been stolen from the village they will surely be able to return to their homes by themselves. They have fasted since the morning and it will be strange if their empty stomachs cannot spur their memories to something more than normal activity.

Accordingly with the becoming solemnity of a just and wise judge, I order the plaintiff to drive the four animals in dispute before him through every street in the village. The procession forms up, the Tribunal, strangely nervous as to the result of its experiment, bringing up the rear.

The Annamite assumes a swaggering air and brandishes his whip like a man sure of his facts, but a significant contraction of his eyebrows gives me the impression that he is not wholeheartedly in agreement with my plan. Sure enough, before the troupe has progressed more than a few hundred yards, one of the pigs hesitates, sniffs suspiciously, and wags its tail, then, uttering a vigorous grunt, dashes into a stable with a certitude that leaves no doubt of its familiarity.

A few steps farther on a second animal repeats the comedy, with the same features of hesitation, recognition, and precipitation. The Annamite thrashes the air with his whip and swears by Buddha that he is the victim of a pernicious conspiracy. All in vain. Soon all the pigs have recovered their native haunts and there is nothing left for him to drive. The Ministry of Justice has an easy task in constructing a case against him and the impudent rascal is unanimously convicted of theft, aggravated by abuse of hospitality. He thinks himself lucky to escape with the loss of one of his gold rings as a fine and compensation to the Head of the village.

I wonder if I was right?

Happily for my reputation as judge, this _cause célèbre_ was positively my last appearance in the rôle. A few days afterwards I was a spectator, by official invitation and on the principle of reciprocity, at one of the native trials.

No luxurious court-house, no gilt and trappings here! The Pholy, following the example of St. Louis, administers justice beneath a sacred fig-tree--the most majestic object conceivable--beneath whose all-embracing branches a concourse, vaster than any that throngs our courts at a sensational trial, could find shelter. The chiefs surround their President and form a truly imposing tribunal. The Sorcerer, too, is there, and he will play the chief part to-day.

Some cattle have been stolen a week or so ago and every man suspects his neighbour of the crime. The real malefactor, however, is known only to the Spirits, and they alone can expose him. As their cares and interests are too multifarious to permit them to appear in person on the earth, our Sorcerer declares that they have assigned to him their powers and functions for the occasion. To-day he will be their mouthpiece. He takes an egg lightly between his thumb and first finger, pressing the ends with two other fingers. At his request a young assistant proclaims in a wailing voice the names of all the neighbouring lands. He cannot believe, he tells us, that a fellow countryman should be guilty of so dastardly an outrage. But the recital is over and the egg has not trembled. There is nothing left but to call out the name of his own village. Alas! No sooner are the words uttered than an ominous crack is heard and a sticky yellow fluid issues from the shell, now broken in two. Recourse must now be had to the evidence. The circle of inquiry is narrowed and it only remains to discover the guilty individual.

The first experiment has proved far too successful to be discarded in favour of any innovation. An egg, balanced in the same way as before, will be the sole cost of the continued investigation. The same unsophisticated youth now proceeds to recite the names of all the inhabitants of the village. In most cases he designates them by their nicknames. The "Squirrel," the "Pagoda Cock" and the "Marabout" are at present white as snow. They all appear to heave an immense sigh of relief as their names are called out without any sign of expostulation from the egg. It is plain that their belief in the justice of the Spirits is far from profound. They lose no time in vanishing from the scene.

Suddenly, just as the youthful voice proclaims "The Scorpion," the egg unmistakably collapses. The malefactor thus indicated is a broken-down old man, an object more of sympathy than of suspicion. His rickety frame is supported with considerable difficulty by his legs, which are swollen to an unnatural degree by gout. But the eye of the Spirits is piercing, their justice unfailing. No escape for the guilty is possible. However, as the accused protests his innocence with all the emphasis at his command, the Pholy condescends to allow him to prove it by submitting to the ordeal prescribed by the Gods. Two alternatives are offered to him, the ordeal by water and that by boiling resin, in which an innocent man may plunge his hand and withdraw it unharmed.

"The Scorpion" is not slow to choose the former. The divine instrument of trial is near at hand in the shape of a river which flows within a short distance of the sacred judgment tree. While the preparations for the ordeal are going forward, the accused asks for permission to make a preliminary statement. If he can associate an accomplice with him in the crime it will doubtless mitigate his punishment. Accordingly he formally names another villager as his partner in transgression. The alleged partner's vigorous denials are followed by immediate arrest. The question now is as to the respective degrees of guilt, a point which the river will ultimately settle. Two stakes are driven into the middle of the stream at a point where the depth is about ten feet. The unfortunate victims are conveyed by canoe to the spot and left clinging desperately to the stakes while trying to keep their heads under water as long as possible. The test is quite simple. The one who loses his breath and comes up to the surface first stands convicted of being the principal in the theft, while his larger-lunged rival is cleared of everything save the charge of complicity.

In a few seconds the performance is over, for the unhappy "Scorpion," already paralysed by fear of the immersion, cannot hold his breath at all, and bobs up to the surface immediately, half asphyxiated. The Sorcerer, delighted at the result of his experiment, expresses his appreciation in a series of approving gestures.

The principle of the ordeal rests on the belief, prevalent among the great majority of half-civilized races, that the tutelary deity of any individual withdraws his protection and assistance if his "ward" has violated any of the fundamental principles of morality, or neglected the rites and ceremonies enjoined by his religion.

This notion of loss of protection of a higher power may possibly be associated with the vague idea of a conscience. It is certainly one of the most curious conceptions which research into the science of divination has brought to our notice. The submission of a suspected criminal to trial by ordeal is an invitation to the Spirits to give a manifestation of their desires.

There are many forms of this species of divine interrogatory, varying in number and character in different parts of the world. Fifty varieties at least are met with in Africa. It is not to be believed, however, that every ordeal is dangerous or even necessarily harmful. Many forms are known far less cruel than those which arrest the imagination of the traveller by virtue of their more inhuman incidents, such as the ordeal by boiling water, molten lead, or poison dropped into the eyes.

Thus, among the Moï, a favourite ordeal is to compel the accused to drink an excessive quantity of water or alcohol resulting in temporary discomfort without danger or permanent injury.

In Africa cases are known where an ordeal is carried through without the suspected criminal knowing of it. For example, it has been considered sufficient to observe the direction in which the smoke of a chimney is blown, or to set a trap in some place known to be frequented by rats. The innocence or guilt of the accused will be determined according to whether a rat is caught or not.

To judge by the enormous quantity of spirits consumed by the Moï I should have said that this form of ordeal was the most frequent incident of daily life. My flask of ammonia was in perpetual requisition after I had, in an evil moment, revealed to them the peculiar property of ammonia gas, which dissipates the fumes of alcohol.

Perhaps I am doing my friends an injustice. Perhaps there was a more edifying explanation of the run on my flask. May it not be that it furnished a magic potion to some lover of the "bottle" with which to renew his stock of dreams?

A psychologist friend of mine once said that man cannot do without his "dream-world."

The Moï is no exception. He, too, needs an artificial paradise and finds it in the bottle. He drinks to see life rosy!