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BACK to Home page to Writing index Posted: 24 August 01 Last edited: 12 July 2006 Trends in Motives and Organisation in Solomon Island Agriculture (C)
Cyril Belshaw COMMENT In this
1949 paper I set out for the first time my ideas about the theory of socio-cultural
change. It is based on a variation of the model of Talcott Parsons' "unit act"
(though it is not here emphasized). and
concepts of choice in economics, and is thus more about the theory of change and
the application of economics concepts than about Solomon Islands agriculture. The perspective begun here and
developed in my Ph.D. thesis was repeated and amended in several later
publications, but although I myself value later formulations as predictive, it
seems to be a long way from current anthropological writing. Note
in paper The data upon which this paper is based are being more extensively set out, among others, in a thesis under preparation in the University of London on Economic aspects of Culture Change in Eastern Me1anesia, with special reference to the influence of monetary economy”, with the financial support of the Emslie Horniman Trustees. [later published as Changing Melanesia - Social Economics of Culture Contact, Melbourne, Oxford University Press, 1954] _____________________________ Bookmarks : Early Native Agriculture The Effects of European Activity Effects of the War Implications of the Post-War Situation Conclusions Bibliography References are also linked to the bibliographical entries.
The
object of this paper is to outline the changes that have occurred in Solomon
Island Melanesian agriculture since the arrival of the Europeans, and to see
whether some of the concepts of economics may be used to this end, supplementing
the current anthropological approach.
At the outset I must make it clear that the paper is not based upon any
deep understanding of native society such as would be expected to come from an
intensive and prolonged anthropo1ogical field study. My observations as to the
war and postwar periods were undertaken haphazardly during administrative
duties, and before I had grasped their full imp1ications or learnt the
possibilities of observing more thoroughly. For the rest, I have drawn
extensively upon published materials, especially those given in the bibliography
The facts of this paper are hardly new, but it is necessary to re-examine them
in the light of modern problems. Early
Native Agriculture
With regard to the early literature on the Solomon Islands, two facts
stand out. The first is that there has been no systematic attempt at a study of
agriculture qua agriculture or as a problem in agricultural economics.
Although Guppy (2) and Ivens (9)(1O) have short sections on gardening, and
though Hogbin in his later work (13) (14) gives a very clear and forceful picture
of the dynamic way in which men attain agricultural wealth, there are, as we shall
see, many 1acunae.
The second point is that Solomon Island society has changed a great deal
in the past hundred years. It is true that observations by Mendana (5) by and
1arge present a picture which is recognisable today. The view is very
superficial, however, and if we examine later writings we must alter this
opinion. The most striking example to me has been the comparison of the writing
of Verguet (1) (published in 1885 on observations
he made in 1845, with those of Fox (8) in 1924 for San Cristoval, and
with my own memories of my stay there in 1946. The il1ustrations given in
Verguet are quite different from those given by Fox, and the descriptions of
both, especially with regard to the materia1 paraphernalia of ritual, are
unrecognisable today.
This raises the question of the validity of reconstructions of early
native agriculture, since we have no other early observers of the calibre of
Verguet, and even such excellent later writers as Codrington pay practically no
attention to agriculture (4). The answer is that we cannot hope to provide a
completely full account of agriculture, and it is not necessary that we do so.
The general principles of native agricultural activity are fairly clear, and
even observations of the cultivation of traditional plants made today are
reasonably useful for any descriptive purposes. We run certain risks of
overlooking some changes, of giving some activity a traditional status which in
fact it should not have, but the degree of error is not likely to be large nor
to affect the general conclusions that we draw. Nor is it indeed necessary to
postulate a pre—European agriculture as a starting point of study. All we need
is a state of agriculture which preceded a later state of agriculture, in that
way obtaining the time dimension essential to any study of change. The best way
of doing this in the present circumstances is to postulate a “subsistence”
or “primitive” agriculture which can be compared with a “cash-crop” or
“monetary” agriculture (b) (b)
It may be pointed out, for instance, that if we are concerned with general
principles or types rather than detailed ethnographic data, then many of the
general affirmations of Professor Firth (15) hold good for Melanesia just as for
Polynesia — the social effects of the standard of technology, and the
significance of ceremonial distribution of food, for instance. Institutional
details, of course, vary considerably. ________________________________________________________________________________ As
will be apparent to any anthropologist, subsistence agriculture does not mean
that every one produced exactly as much agricultural produce as he wanted for
his own direct consumption. It is purely a
relative term indicating that the standard of technology and of demand was such
that men could if they so wished produce what they required for themselves, that
the quantity of trade was relatively low, and, in particular, that produce was
not exported to an impersonal speculative market. These points will be mentioned
later, but it is as well to emphasise them at the outset.
Agricultural activity, like any other activity, is organised to meet
specific ends, which are present in the minds of the actors as a medley of
conscious purpose, unconscious desire and habitual drive. It is beyond our
present task to examine the ways in which patterns of agricultural activity
arise — the interplay of upbringing, of adaptation to the activity of the
family fellow-villagers and acquaintances, of limitations and possibilities
imposed by the environment, of the influence of developments in near-by
communities. It is however relevant to note the ends which were in fact present
in Melanesian society in the Solomons.
In the first p1ace, of course, agricultural activity provided food. Panna,
yam, and taro were the commonest cultivated staples, varying in importance with
soil conditions. It is interesting to note the influence of environment here
upon the acquisition of taste. In areas where yam grew well it always took pride
of place: but in some areas, such as Gela, it was difficult to cultivate, and
hence panna replaced it. Gela people became accustomed to a panna preference,
which they retained even when visiting yam-growing areas or working away from
home. Other foods cultivated included the plantain, and, since they required
p1anting and a certain amount of care, one could also include the breadfruit,
coconut, and a number of shrubs which provided edible leaves. Except in limited
areas of the Western Solomons, the sago palm was not cultivated for its food
value by Melanesians, but for its leaf, though in times of shortage the pith was
occasionally eaten.
The direct consumption of food is not necessarily a simple phenomenon.
Anthropologists have drawn sufficient attention to sociological factors which
modify and accompany it -- such factors as ritual abstentions, proscriptions
applying to clan members, abstentions during child - birth, and so forth (7)
(8) (9) (1O).
Indeed, we might draw together all such food habits together with traditionally
developed tastes, under one heading such as customary or habitual behaviour. By
such a phrase we imply that for sociological reasons men, when confronted with
specific situations, act in certain ways and adopt certain values which may be
predicted for their society. Demand, in the economist’s sense, is socially
determined.
At the same time there are two other concepts which may be applied to the
same behaviour, the concepts of competition and complementarity. By competition
I mean that a choice has to be made as between ends or between means according
to customary rule, by considering advantages or disadvantages rationally in
terms of more ultimate ends, or by an emotional decision, or by all three. But
whatever end he adopts for his activity, however unconsciously realised,
principles of choice are involved, implying the sacrifice or postponement of
some other ends not so important at the moment, whether they be leisure,
alternative ritual forms, warfare, or what you will.
Competition is quite evident, for instance, in the provision of food. If
we take a year’s activity, most Solomon Island communities will eat both fish
and tubers. But at any particular time they may eat fish alone or tubers alone
or fish (of different kinds) in combination with tubers (of different kinds). In
other words, even limited resources permit a wide variety in consumption. Moreover
the balance will be decided not solely by reference to some ideal standard of
preference, but in weighing up, rationally or irrationally, the advantages and disadvantages
to be attained in acting to achieve particular ends. Any single activity
involves a number of considerations —inland San Cristoval people, for
instance, when deciding whether to eat fish, have to consider whether it can be
bought from coastal dwellers and at what price, whether they are in position to
fish for it themselves by individua1 effort, whether the journey to get it is
worth while, how much alternative food is available, whether the time used to
get it could be better employed in gardening or taking part in a memorial feast
for a departed elder, and so on. Of course, not all these considerations will apply
at one particular moment - men are not completely rational, sometimes
certain things weigh more heavily on the mind than others. Nevertheless I feel
that anthropo1ogists have tended to overlook to some degree the play of competition
in native life. Sociologioa1 and environmental determinism plays a large
part in establishing the range of ends in a community, and even in establishing
habitua1 responses, but it does not destroy the great variety of life and the
numerous competing ways of employing time and resources. By the second concept, comp1ementarity, I mean that in order to achieve certain ends particular resources or particular kinds of activity must be combined. Insofar as they may be substituted one for another, they are said to be in competition; insofar as an increase in one involves an increase in another they are said to be complementary. Thus If we take the end broadly as the provision of food, the cultivation of panna may be conceived as being in competition with the cultivation of yams. If however we take a specific occasion, the provision of food for a marriage feast, it may be customary to provide specific kind of food in which several resources are mixed. Thus coconut flesh, tubers, and forest nuts are combined into many pudding recipes, pounded and fermented or baked, and for this purpose may be considered to be complementary. The activity of gardening involves clearing, burning, digging holes, planting, weeding, gathering, and considerable ritual at many stages, all of which may be considered as complementary activities.
Comparison of the two examples shows a further distinction. Not only are
resources or activity complementary, but they are complementary to different
degrees. The complementary nature of the resouces in the first case is based
upon their power to combine to produce a tasty or ritually required dish. But if
one of them is lacking or difficult to procure, substitution may be possible,
although there will be loss in subjective value satisfied. In the second case,
it is true that different activities may be combined in different proportions -
one fami1y may take greater care over burning, while another may be painstaking
over clearing - but the variations possible are not great, and it is not practicable
to do away altogether with any one activity, at least in the native's view,
without complete loss of the end result.
The
food is complementary in a less essential sense than the item of technical
activity; we may say, to introduce another term, that the elasticity of demand is
greater in the case of food than in the case of the item of technical activity.
Such variations of degree introduce the possibility of measurement, but we have
not the space to go into this complicated question at the moment.
The reason I have paid particular attention to these concepts is that I
believe that they and others developed with some precision in economics can be
of considerable use in describing culture change. Their use makes one such questions as, if value A is introduced as an end of activity, how will
it compete for resources and time with value B? If value C disappears as an end
of activity, will it mean that the demand for D and E lessens because they are
complements, or increases because they are in competition? If resources increase,
can we regard the demand for A as being elastic or inelastic — that is, will
it increase more than in proportion to the increase in resources or less? We are
accustomed to thinking of such
terms as applicable to material goods in a money economy. But, surely, even if
we cannot measure the quantities involved with accuracy, the same concepts apply
in relation to values and non-monetary activity. If ritua1 activity is held
onto tenaciously, demand for ritua1 is inelastic, and its inelasticity may
be compared with the elasticity of demand for food or art forms or whatever is
relevant. The functiona1 interrelations of behaviour may be observed through the
degree of competition or complementarity which applies. If Church-going ritual decreases it will permit totemica1 objects to enter into competition as
food. If Church-going or labour supply or court cases increase, time available
for other activities must decrease, and we can query how the adjustment is made,
what re-arrangements are necessary.
Let us now note as briefly as possible the salient features of Melanesian
agriculture that are relevant for our present discussion. Apart from food, there
were numerous other agricultural ends. Cultivated plants provided numerous items
of raw materia1, such as thatch from sago pa1m and coconut, spoons and bowls from the coconut, weaving material from coconut and pandanus, wood
from coconut and breadfruit. There is no need to enlarge upon the list.
The food used was not
simply for direct consumption - the
prevention of hunger. In particular it was used for ceremonial purposes and the
ostentatious display and exchange of goods that accompanied most socially
important occasions. Certain foods, particularly the first-fruits, were sacrificed
to the spirits when occasion demanded. Stores of food, either gathered or left
to ripen in the gardens, were important capital resources, for they could be
used to maintain craftsmen while working to order, to supply the feasts which called
forth the labour required for cooperative activity such as house-building or
garden clearing, to feed visitors. In most cases such uses were deliberately
planned for, thus maintaining the direct relationship between production and
use, but a margin for emergencies had to be maintained thus introducing a speculative
element.
To fulfil these ends, agricu1ture as whole was often times in competition
with and sometimes complementary to fishing and animal husbandry (of pigs), and
self-sufficient agriculture was in competition with acquisition by exchange, as
with the fish-markets of Malaita. The problems of choice were often decided by
reference to limitations of resources in particular areas. Trade between Gela
and Malaita for instance altered as the balance of resources altered - as Malaita
became richer in coconuts, so the export of coconuts from Gela declined. The
pattern
of trade has not been investigated with authority, but it is quite extensive (18).
Agriculture also competed with forest gathering - of nuts, roots, edible leaves,
fibres and the like.
Given the desire for agriculture,
organisation.of activity was required. Here again we may observe the operation
of competition and complementarity within a socially and environmentally determined
framework. Techniques were simple but effective, permitting the use of land on
the almost universal steeply sloping hil1aides. Large trees were felled by chopping
and burning to prevent undue shade, but habits of shifting cultivation had
reduced the stands of mature trees so that the task, though lengthy, was not as
great as might be thought. Roots were left in the ground to hold the soil
together — many of these quickly started to grow again. The main im1plements
were shells for weeding, the well-known digging sticks forming holes. Certain signs,
such as the budding of particular trees, provided indications of times for various
operations to commence. Ritual incantations, prayers, and sacrifices were made at
every stage. Most of these factors
are an expression of technical knowledge and the interpretation of the unseen
forces controlling or having an effect upon agricultural fortune. Such. knowledge
and interpretation was passed on from generation to generation by upbringing,
continual association with such activity, and by the lack of environmental
factors which could indicate the possibility of anything else. Given these
factors, the people could conceive of no substitute for the methods, which, so
far as we know, were varied in direct proportion to the quantity of
end—product desired (c). (c) An economist might object that diminishing returns would be expected. Diminishing returns are however largely a function of scarcity of the best resources, and except in limited areas I doubt if this principle applied in any great degree in the Solomon Islands.
Agriculture was organised with reference to numerous social groups, of which
we may distinguish groups of kin, local groups, and groups of friends. Working parties were seldom institutionalised - though Ivens
(9) reports named
cooperating groups on U1awa - but the individuals cooperated very much according
to circumstances. Clan members, village members, and friends would gather to
help families prepare the garden ground, build houses, paddle canoes or go
fishing. This often involved the leadership and direction of a village head.
People were attracted to such cooperative work by the preference they had for
group activity rather than isolated activity (though there were a few semi-hermits
and introverts), by the joy of the feasts that accompanied such work, by the
sense of achievement that resulted from the rapid progress made,
and by affection for the family for whom they worked. An allied principle of
great importance was that of reciprocity. Those who cooperated were often working
off a debt they owed to the family for a similar service rendered to them in the
past; or else they were creating a moral obligation for aid some time in the
future - a truly native form of interest. Hogbin (13) (14) has given very clear
accounts of the operation of reciprocity and the calculation of obligations as a
factor governing advancement in material wealth and social prestige.
The principles governing the use of land have been given hard1y any attention
by investigators in the Solomons. There is no satisfactory account of the systems
of land rights, though it would appear that overall rights were held by clans,
where such groups existed, and immediate rights of usufruct by individuals.
The importance of inheritance in transmitting wealth was diminished by the
quantity of lend available, for those with less land could relatively easily extend the areas of cultivation, either in unclaimed
land, or in land claimed only by the clan and not by individuals. Nevertheless,
the fertility of 1and varies and the costs of production vary even more when the density of
bush, distance from the village, steepness of slope, and availabi1ity of water,
are taken into account. Certain property, such
as sago palms, coconut trees, and nut groves, could be passed on after the death
of the owner, and this, together with the specia1 character of the soil required
for their growth, resulted in a certain inequality of wealth. This tendency was
limited, at least in the case of coconut resources, by the destruction of some
trees on death, but it must be admitted we have very little concrete evidence
of the distribution of wealth. Before going further we may ask if we can discern any elements of change existing in native society before its stimulation by Europeans. This is rather difficult because I cannot look back at things in a Melanesian manner and because no chronicler of change existed before the arrival of the Europeans. We can only make assumptions on a priori grounds. There are however a number of theoretical hypotheses that can be made and applied to both the pre—European and the post-European situation; and certain deductions can be drawn from them regarding subsistence economy. (d)
We
must recognise here, as do economists when using an allied concept of
equilibrium, that in our own society actual equilibrium is never achieved,
though we can discern tendencies towards it. No sooner does one action
result in adjustments by other people than new conditions intervene to cause
disturbance in other directions. In particular, knowledge
In Melanesian society we can discern a number of factors which, if the above
hypotheses are true, must have resulted in dis-equilibrium and therefore
change. We may regard knowledge of means as relatively static, and,
speaking for small community units, we can infer that ends were relatively
compatible. We can say this on the assumption that pure invention is a rare
occurrence, that the communities were sufficiently old for behaviour to
become adjusted, and that there was relatively little contact with communities
of radically different culture which would have increased the range of
perception and new ideas. This was only relatively so, however. The prevalence
of warfare indicated that, at least outside the smallest community units, ends
were sometimes regarded as incompatible. Resources, being beyond the control of
man in large degree must have changed from time to time, resulting in alteration of
behaviour. Such changes would have included population trends, and the influence of
weather in drought or times of excessive rain. Warfare itself must have resulted
from time to time in changes in the relation of men to resources —— the land
available to them, the size of the po1itical unit or social group, and so forth.
Contact with other groups must have resulted in the perception of hitherto
unknown ends, which were then available for adoption, becoming potential and
perhaps effective, resulting in diffusion. Such alteration in ends, and
alteration in resources, must have resulted. in further changes in means, as
the pattern of means and ends, considered in terms of efficiency, would require
new balances.
These considerations must not be unduly laboured, but they should draw
attention
to the dynamic aspects of primitive society, so often mistakenly described as
static.. The effects of European activity
We are now In position
to describe and interpret changes in agriculture
which resulted from the presence of Europeans. European activity affected each
of the four factors in equilibrium both directly and indirectly —— the
indirect effect being traceable through the operation of competitive and
complementary principles. We may consider these from the agricultural point of
view.
Ends, since they control activity,
may first be examined. Observation in this field tends to support the view that the
concrete form of ends changes, that the meaning given to ends changes as
connotations alter in the new society,
but that function in the sense of subjective purpose, of a new form is similar
to that of the form replaced. They do not support the view that function, in the
sense of inter—relations with other ends and activities (through competition
or comp1ementarity), does not alter.
To exemplify, in agrricu1ture there was considerable ritual activity, in
part1cu1ar, prayers and offerings to the spirits during operations, and the
sacrifice of first-fruits. Today Christian
communities pray to God. for the success of gardens, and conduct harvest
festivals. The concrete form of this activity has altered and so has its meaning
in terms of synthesis of the new theology with old conceptions. The subjective
purpose has not altered. But the inter-relations of the activity with other
activity has altered pari passu with its form —— it calls into play a
different religious organisation with different sanctions and methods of reward;
it involves Church—building; it sometimes casts doubt upon the efficacy of
certain spells in agriculture with which it is in competition, and therefore
in a complementary way upon certain spells in other activities; it places ritual power in the
hands of a priest, thus partly removing it from those of the
sorcerer and removing a part of the religious sanction supporting the secular
authority of the headman, and so on.
This does not, however, justify us in reaching the conclusion that the
general ends of agricultural activity are the
European activity
was not directly incompatible with Melanesian
agriculture, and thus no direct conflict arose in this field, and information
is too vague to permit any precise description of indirect effects. We my note
however that a large number of incompatible ends in other fields were solved by
the use of po1itica1 force on the part of the Europeans and by secrecy and
reserve on the part of the Melanesians —— thus head—hunting was put down,
and men of the status of headman or chief hid themselves from European eyes by
means of puppet go—betweens. Though we have no direct descriptive evidence,
this must have had indirect effects upon agriculture. For instance, the
allocation of time must have altered when the cessation of head—hunting or the
adminstrative enforcement of the maintenance of paths in considered. This
competitive effect is matched by complementary effects such as the decline in
feasts required for head—hunting, and therefore in agricultural demand.
The effect of European activity upon resources and the knowledge of
means will mainly be considered in relation to techniques and organisation, but
we my record here the way in which connections with the great outside world
opened up new choices, and broadened the range of agricultural goods possessed
by the natives —— fruits, such as pineapple, and improved strains of pigs,
dogs, and so on. Apart from this, however, we can assume that native resources
—— in particular the avai1ability of land and labour —— on balance remained very much the
same, though we will have more to say in connection with
techniques and organisation.
European activity had
a very marked effect upon the range of ends and
therefore upon the relation of potential ends to effective ends, and the
efficient achievement of ends. Natives could choose activity not only be
reference to former Melanesian patterns, but, added to these, there were ends
interpreted from the actions of planters, traders, officials, and missionaries.
These first took on the form of hopes and desires, and then as they became
satisfied became effective demand. Sometimes activity was directly copied, as
when Queensland labourers adopted clothing; sometimes it was inculcated, as
when missionaries exacted the wearing of clothing, or when plantation labourers
carried the taste for rice into the villages. The most significant thing about
this, from our present point of view, is that agriculture became directly
concerned with the achievement of such ends, in addition to those already
existing, through the use of barter and money-exchange with traders. I think,
moreover, that it is true to say that before the war there was fairly
steady equilibrium achieved in this field. European living standards were not
particularly high, and hence the range of possible desires presented to the natives was limited. It
was a1so limited by the small range of goods kept in the
stores, which hardly altered over fifty or sixty years. This conclusion may have
to be modified if we find that the depression, and consequent decline in
purchasing power, caused any frustration.
At the same time we must
take note of a number of indirect effects.
The essential feature of this new range of ends was that it could be purchased
for money, and although agriculture was an important earner of money, it was not the only one. The
collection of copra and ivory nuts was rival1ed by
fishing for trochus shell and beche-le-mer, and, above all, by the sale of
labour to Europeans, particularly for European agr1culture which was in
competition with the cash—crop element of native agriculture since the
organsation available —~ mainly small Chinese traders —~ was not able
to pay a good price for village products, natives preferred on the whole to sell their labour to
Europeans than produce themselves. This was in
contrast to the New Hebrides, where there was about an equa1
We must also bear in mind the role of agricultural ends as a complement to and
in competition with other ends. In contrast to labour-selling, agricultural ends
were complementary to the satisfaction of those ends connected with village
life. The sale of labour competed not only in the market with the sale of
peasant copra, but also involved a temporary break with the subsistence element
of agriculture and all that went with it. Even if he remained in the village, a
man had to adjust his activity between cash-producing, and subsistence
agriculture, house-building, Church attendance, festivals and the like.
Given the new range of preferences, certain adjustments were necessary in the
techniques and organisation of agriculture. In connection with resources, there
has been a tendency towards increased competition for the
ownership of resources and increased competition in the use of different kinds of resources, and different uses of the
same resources. Compeetition of this
kind is very largely a function of scarcity, however, and since pressure upon
resources has not been great in the Solomons in re1ation to their availability,
competition has not been great enough to involve any radical departure from old
methods. One can however observe a number of tendencies. There is thus a tendency for
individuals to extend their concepts of ownership of land. Not only to they require
more land for cash crops, but land not now in use may have a potential value if
Europeans require it for plantations. Individuals are beginning to claim rights over virgin forest, while the
rights of the clan decrease as it become less organised. Men must now decide whether they will use
land for subsistence crops, cattle, or coconuts —— since pressure on
resources is still slight, however, such questions may still be decided by
reference to the quality of the land rather than the returns to be expected.
Again, resources are so great that the decision whether to use coconuts for food
or for copra is not yet of serious moment.
By the time the war had broken out know1edge of appropriate techniques
had not changed much either, again due to the fact that for most individuals
there were other ways of earning cash than by agriculture. Melanesians were not
hard pressed to it; traditional techniques —— almost haphazard growth of
coconuts, smoke—drying, and digging—sticks for gardens —— were quite
well adapted to securing the returns they required in relation to the effort.
It is true that some individuals, impressed not only by monetary wealth but by
the prestige of doing as the Europeans did, maintained their own neatly planted
plantations and pastured cattle. But such individuals were rare. They
gave an indication of the way activity might shape if motives were intensified,
but were otherwise not significant.
Nor have we any reason to believe that the organisation of agricultuure changed
in any of its essentials. Labour teams continued to
operate in the same manner, and the role of reciprocity was still important, even in
connection with those natives who copied European
estates in their techniques. It is sometimes said that the introduction of
money which could be earned by plantation labour altered the balance of wealth
from the older people to the younger people; and therefore the structure of authority
and leadership involving agricu1ture among other things, must have altered. It is true that there must
have been some initial disturbance of
the equilibrium, but it is also evident that by the outbreak of war there had
been ample time for a return to the former structure, though based upon money
rather then upon garden produce. Even in early days the accumulation of
It might be thought that preoccupation with wage labour must have had
some effect upon agriculture, if not through effects upon resources and
organisation, at least through the altered balance of available time. If
other things had been equal, this certainly would have been the case: men could
have offered labour services only by sacrificing time spent on other things,
including, agriculture. However, when we view native life as a whole, it is
evident that time can be diverted from many other things.
To sum up, the pattern of agricultural activity changed, but not in any
great degree. “Subsistence" agriculture was retained, for, in terms of local
organisation, income, and prices, it was the most efficient method of
achieving the ends for which it was designed. “Cash—crops” were produced
mainly as a by product of Effects
of the war
The broad outlines of war-time activity are clear. The Japanese advanced
as far south as Tulagi and Guadalcanal, and the main body of Europeans evacuated.
Cash production came to
This contact did not originate without mixed feelings for [they] are numerous. They had
sometimes been told this by a few of the troops with
anti-Imperial ideas. The British exacted prices through the trade stores which
were not only contrasted with American and New Zealand generosity, but with
pre—war prices, which were much lower. The trade stores only supplied goods
which pandered to the bodily taste of the native, whereas many of them wanted
substantial capital goods. In fairness to the administration, we must record
that these conditions were largely outside their control, being governed by the
supply policy of the United States Corporation. Finally, the administration,
with an eye to postwar conditions, refused to increase wages, which, though
slightly higher than pre-war, did not correspond to price levels, and were
not nearly competitive with prices offered by troops on the black-market or
by private individuals in the New Hebrides.
Implications of the Post-war Situation
(e)
These Solomons figures however compare unfavourably with the New
Hebrides, where wages are £4 to £6 per month and copra reached considerable
internal and external transport difficulties, partly met by occasional shipping
from overseas under the control of one of the large trading firms operating
widely in the Pacific, and by unscheduled inter-island trips by small
government vessels. Although there are signs that copra production has been
increasing in recent months, available figures show a serious collapse by
comparison with pre-war years. Before the war the Solomons constituted one
of the chief copra-producing areas in the Pacific, exporting about 20,000 tons
annually. During the war, no copra was produced, but employment more than
doubled. Since the war copra is produced at a rate of 1,500 tons annually, about
1/13th the pre-war figure. This does not mean that employment has fallen
to 1/13th the prewar figure, because presumably numbers will still be engaged in
rehabilitation work, while government services have increased considerably. But
it does indicate a considerable loss of income to the Protectorate.
All
these conflicts are I think capable of resolution by various means, at
1east in theory if not in practice. What is certain is that society will remain in a seething, even
dangerous condition until they are resolved. The direct
practical measurea must be left to the administration (f), but we can suggest the
kind (f)
Arrests have been made, but such action only touches the immediate problem and does nothing to resolve the long—term of
solution that could be considered. The accusation that Europeans are with—ho1ding
advance can perhaps be countered by rapid advance in education, by taking
natives to Austra1i and New Zealand so that they can appreciate the magnitude of
the technical problems that have to be faced, and by inducing as high a standard of living as
is possible. I can suggest no solution to the second problem
of split in native society itself — this is a problem of political
organisation and the moulding of a colonial loyalty rather than sectarian
loyalties. The third problem can be resolved only if the natives can be given
a greater measure of economic power in the v1llages, thus decreasing the
necessity for wage-labour, and by increasing both wages and the range of
goods they can buy. This appltes also the solution of the fourth aspect of
conflict.
It is more than probable that such measures, if practicable, will even
then not wholly remove the dynamic effects inherent in the present situation.
They cannot go the whole distance in making ends compatible, or in equating
potential ends with effective demand. We must indeed regard Solomon Island
society today in very much the same light as our own. Solomon Islanders like
ourselves, have become acquainted with the vast possibilites of modern
industry. Whereas heretofore the things they could buy with their income
appeared to be limited, today they appear to be limitless. This does not mean that they will expend
limitless energy to achieve limitless ends: leisure,
village life, and so forth are still important ends and must be balanced in the
native view with the advantages to be derived from the purchase of
This raises the problem of economic efficiency, We have noted from time
to time the great diversity of competing ends in Solomon Island society - many derived from ancient
times, others originating In recent times. Agriculture, and its different forms, must be judge by the
degree to which it satisfies some among these ends, and at what sacrifice of
alternatives. Only
upon such judgment can successful policy be based.
It is my contention that native village agriculture will satisfy native
ends far more fully and at less social cost than most forms of plantation
agriculture; though this might not be true if the processing of secondary
products became reality. Peasant agriculture enables full participation in
village life, the adjustment of the calendar to local needs, the adoption
of economic organisation in native patterns, and the desired balance between
subsistence and cash-crop agriculture. It may be contended that this was true
in pre-war years, but that natives chose to work on plantations instead. But
now the balance has moved in the opposite direction. Village life was sacrificed enough during the war. Standards of
purchasing power are higher -- people will not work except for a higher income. The
question is, can peasant copra production be organised to provide higher
returns, and can rather
more expensive capital goods be introduced to provide the required rewards?
These questions I have discussed elsewhere (23) and I will be content here with
drawing attention to the problem.
The question of efficiency is also very relevant in
considering crops alterntaive to copra. An instance of this is the rice—growing scheme
recently introduced by the Agricultural Department. Rice stands high in native
estimation: Melanesians have previously been willing to pay high prices for it,
and have been accustomed to it as a chief food on plantations. It was not grown
in native agriculture largely because most were ignorant that it could be
grown, and one or two attempts had failed for technical reasons. During the war
a large-scale rice-growing scheme was started by the Agricultural Department
on Guadalcanal, which impressed the natives with its possibilities, and in
several areas, with administrative encouragement, native plots have been
started. This however involves a radical departure from old techniques. Not only
does the rice use some of the best land, but it involves painstaking gathering
and intricate methods of despatch to government stations for husking, while
returns vary considerably.
I have not heard whether the scheme is in fact a success. But we can
predict a number of problems that are bound to occur. If rice is still available
in stores and if natives have the income to pay for it, the purchase of rice
will compete with its growing, and, especially since purchase is easy,
growing may not become habit. This possibility might be countered by the
presentation of a wider range of goods in the stores, providing competition for
the limited amount of money available.
This is not in the least to suggest that the Cyril.
S. Belshaw M.A.(NZ) (a)
References to Solomon Island Agriculture 1. L.Verguet "Arossi ou San Cristoval et ses habitants” Revue d’ethnographie 1885 2.
H.P.Guppy "The Solomon Islands and their Natives" Swan Sonnenschein
1887 3. A.Penny “Ten years in Melanesia” Wells Gardner Darton 1887 4.
R.H.Codrington “The Melanesians’ Oxford 1890 5.
Lord Hackney “The Discovery of the Solomon Islands in 1568” Haluyt
Society 1901 6.
Handbook of the British Solomon lalands Tulagi 1913. 7. W.
H.R.Rivers “A History of Melanesian Society” Cambridge 1914 8.
C.E. Fox “Threshold of the Pacific" Kegan Paul. 192 9.
W.G Ivens “Melanesians of the
South-east Solornona” Kegan Paul 1927 10.
W.G. Ivens “Island Builders of the Pacific” Seeley 1930 11. H,I.Hogbin “Culture Change in the Solomons” Oceania
1934 12.
H.I.Hogbin “The Hill People of North-Eastern Guadalcana1" Oceania 1937 13. H.I.Hogbin “Social Advancement on Gudaalcanal" Oceania 1938 14. H.I.Hogbin
“Ixperimente in Civilisation" Routledge 1939 15.
R. Firth “Primitive Polynesian
Economy” Routledge 1939 16. J.S.Phillips “Coconut Quest"
Jarrolds 1940 17.
C.Y.Shepherd "Report on Agricultural Policy” Fiji 1944 18.
C.S. Belshaw “EconomIc Development of Gela” (typescript thesis) 19. C.Y.Shepherd “Solomon Is1ands” Tropical Agr1culture 1945 20.
C. S. .Belshaw "Native Politics in the Solomon Islands" Pacific 21.
C.M.Davis “Coconuts in the Russell Islands” Geographical Review 1947 22.
E. Ojala “Grassland Plains Soil of
Guadalcanal” New Zland Journal of Science and Technology 1947 23.
C.S.Belshaw “The Post-War Solomon Islands” Far Eastern Survey (b)
Relevant general
works. 24.
Smith
and Pape “Coconuts, Consuls of the East” Tropical Life Publishers 1913 25.
F.M.Keesing "Standards of Living among Native Peoples in the Prcific" Pacific Affairs 1913 26.
F.M.Keesing "South
Seas in the Modern World” Institute of Pacific Relations and
John Day 1941 27.
M. Mead “Role of Sma11 South Sea Cultures in the Postwar World” American Anthropologist 1943 28.
R.G.Bowman “Army Farms and Agricultural Development in the South West
Pacific” Geographical Review 1946 29. J.W.Coulter
‘Impact of War on the South Sea Islands’
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