Orokaiva - Colonial

Inhabitants. The Orokaiva settled in small villages rather than urban centres. The colonial authorities also established settlements, especially in coastal areas. Ira Baschkow ^[1] : ’Through WWII these were only small settlements, hardly worthy of the term "town" at all.’ Janice Newton ^[2] : ’A few families of Orokaivans had visited Port Moresby and worked there or been imprisoned there before the second World War. By the 1970s Port Moresby had built up quite a large population in squatter settlements but these were informally ordered into regional sections and sometimes involved rent payments to original landowners. Popondetta was a small agricultural base before the war, became strategic during the war as an allied air base and was developed as a small administration centre with a few general stores after the war. Although there were small ’squatter like’ settlements around the outskirts in 1977-9 it was nothing like Port Moresby in terms of makeshift developments.’ Jonathan Ritchie ^[3] : Does he mean Port Moresby? The other ‘urban’ locations were hardly that, at least in Northern District/Province) - and wasn’t Higaturu the main centre - not a town at all but the administrative headquarters? Nigel Oram (Colonial Town to Melanesian City) and Ian Stuart (Port Moresby Yesterday and Today 1970.)have written about early Port Moresby (and should have population estimates).] ’The small urban population lives for the most part in towns whose original location was determined either by access to a good harbour for early colonial planters or, in the interior, by the availability of level land sufficient for an airstrip. Despite the greatly diminished importance of plantations and the relocation of most of these airstrips out of the towns, those origins helped determine the existing urban layout. Port Moresby and Lae, on the Huon Gulf, are the largest cities.’ ^[4] ’The establishment of towns, unknown before the coming of Europeans, has forced an even more drastic adaptation than have the changes in rural areas. For a man to leave his village and go to work in the town means long separation from his family and from his kin, an experience unheard of in the past. Separation from his relatives means that he may be facing dangerous risks from the sorcery of foreigners in an unknown country. This is one reason why migrant workers tend to live in kin clusters in the towns. Unemployment, inadequate living quarters, low wages, the necessity for paying in cash for all goods and services, and the obligation to send cash gifts to relatives in the villages, all add to the town dwellers’ difficulties.’ ^[5] Popondetta is a notable example in the Northern Division: ’Popondetta is a small town, population 6343 in 1980 (National Statistics Office 1980:14), with a few general stores, a market, hospital, courthouse, various government and semi-government offices and an hotel. It is a sleepy town, livened only recently by oil palm activity, the bustle of wholesale buying for village trade stores, and the ‘fortnight’, the government pay day, which stimulates a long weekend of drinking, singing and the occasional fight. Children love to visit the ‘town’, but adult women in particular yearn for the bright lights of Port Moresby spoken of by their menfolk.’ ^[6] Its size in colonial times is unclear from the sources, but as indicated by the expert, the colonial ’towns’ did not amount to much at the time. We have therefore decided to code for Orokaiva villages instead; we have provided a range based on a number provided below (see ’settlement hierarchy’).

[1]: Ira Baschkow, pers. comm.

[2]: Janice Newton, pers. comm.

[3]: Jonathan Ritchie, pers. comm.

[4]: http://www.britannica.com/place/Papua-New-Guinea

[5]: Dakeyne, R. B. 1969. “Village And Town In New Guinea”, 3

[6]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 77p

in squared kilometers ’New Guinea, island of the eastern Malay Archipelago, in the western Pacific Ocean, north of Australia. It is bounded by the Pacific Ocean to the north, the Bismarck and Solomon seas to the east, the Coral Sea and Torres Strait to the south, and the Arafura Sea to the southwest. New Guinea is administratively divided into two parts: its western half comprises the Indonesian propinsi (or provinsi; provinces) of Papua and West Papua (collectively, formerly called Irian Jaya); and its eastern half comprises the major part of Papua New Guinea, an independent country since 1975. The second largest island in the world (after Greenland), New Guinea is about 1,500 miles (2,400 km) long (from northwest to southeast) and about 400 miles (650 km) wide at its widest (north to south) part. Area island, 317,150 square miles (821,400 square km).’ ^[1] The Orokaiva are found in the Northern Divisiont, the district system originating in the colonial period: ’In response to Australian pressure, the British government annexed Papua in 1888. Gold was discovered shortly thereafter, resulting in a major movement of prospectors and miners to what was then the Northern District. Relations with the Papuans were bad from the start, and there were numerous killings on both sides. The Protectorate of British New Guinea became Australian territory by the passing of the Papua Act of 1905 by the Commonwealth Government of Australia. The new administration adopted a policy of peaceful penetration, and many measures of social and economic national development were introduced. Local control was in the hands of village constables, paid servants of the Crown. Chosen by European officers, they were intermediaries between the government and the people. In 1951 an eruption occurred on Mount Lamington, completely devastating a large part of the area occupied by the Orokaiva.’ ^[2] THE Orokaiva occupy the major part of the Northern Division of Papua. From Oro Bay, some little distance below Buna on the north-eastern coast, a line might be drawn westward, skirting the foothills of the Hydrographers and the Lamington group and passing over the small divide of the Kumusi and Yodda rivers, to the neighbourhood of Kokoda; thence, curving round the Ajura Kijala, it would proceed northwards, keeping on its left the uninhabited mountains which are merely eastern appendages of the Main Range, and passing through Ioma would continue on to the border of the Mandated Territory. This line, together with the territorial boundary which coincides with the 8th meridian, would enclose the demesne of the people whom we call Orokaiva. One cannot do better than follow the distribution given by E. W. P. Chinnery and the late W. N. Beaver, both of whom travelled the Northern Division more widely than the present writer, and the actual boundaries of the Orokaiva country which appear in the map are approximately theirs.’ ^[3] Ethnic boundaries are not always clearly drawn: ’It must be understood, however, that while marking the limits of those people who are distinctly and exclusively called Orokaiva, these boundaries are nevertheless somewhat arbitrary. In a general treatment it would be permissible to include, for instance, the people of the lower Waria and beyond, although they go by a different name. Similarly in the south the specified boundary beginning at Oro Bay cannot be regarded as a rigid limit, for along the coast of Dyke Ackland Bay almost as far as Cape Nelson, there are settled several groups of people who are virtually identical with the Orokaiva although commonly named Okeina. The present report, however, will observe the limits already set down.’ ^[3] The Northern Division is around 22,800 km squared. This kind of regional integration was a result of colonial policies.

[1]: http://www.britannica.com/place/New-Guinea

[2]: Latham, Christopher S.: eHRAf Cultural Summary for the Orokaiva

[3]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, 1

People. The number of Orokaiva at the time of first contact is unknown due to lack of demographic data: ’The indigenous population of the Popondetta district totals some 36,500, of whom 26,500 are Orokaiva in the central lowland area. The number of Orokaiva at the time of Western contact is not known. [Editors note: Ethnologue (SIL International), lists 33,400 as of 1989.]’ ^[1] Williams claims around 9,000 residents for the early 20th century. [Ira Baschkow (pers. comm.): This is a realistic figure. If conflicting figures exist, these will be found in the Papua Annual Reports. Janice Newton (pers. comm.): Caveat: early colonists often underestimate the size of indigenous populations. Jonathan Ritchie (pers. comm.): Patrol reports could serve as a primary source to investigate this.] ’It is on the assumption of general uniformity among the tribes that the present report claims to refer to the people as a whole. The tribe with which I am best acquainted is that of the Aiga, who seemed to offer the best opportunities for research because they are fairly central and as yet less contaminated by European influence than most of the others. Out of a total Orokaiva population of some 9,000, this tribe numbers approximately 1,300, who are scattered in nearly fifty villages on or between the Opi and Kumusi rivers. To avoid confusion it will be the rule of this report to use the Aiga dialectal form for native words.’ ^[2] ’Koropata is part of the Orokaivan linguistic division which according to Williams (1930:7) numbered about 9000 in the 1920s. The Orokaivans live mainly in the Saiho Census Division which is the most densely populated part of the Northern Province. In the 1980 census the population of this division was 8715 (National [Page 62] Statistics Office 1980:14). The Saiho Census area covers the rich volcanic plains around Mt Lamington, criss-crossed by numerous streams and rivers, notably the Kumusi River. The thick dark brown topsoil combined with a thin layer of volcanic ash produces extremely fertile soil. The warm humid climate and very high rainfall (2000-3500mm per annum) mean that the land is excellent for subsistence gardening and offers some of the best prospects for agricultural development in Northern Province (CSIRO 1954:4, 10-12).’ ^[3] The regional integration that allows us to treat the Orokaiva as a population rather than an assortment of individual tribes and villages was a result of colonial policies.

[1]: Latham, Christopher S.: eHRAF Cultural Summary for the Orokaiva

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, 7

[3]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 61

levels. SCCS variable 157 ’Scale 9-Political Integration’ is coded as ‘2’ or ’Autonomous local communities’. We have excluded colonial settlements from the code here.
[(1) Colonial Settlements;]
(2) Small Residential Villages
Residential villages are predominant: ’Small villages with populations not exceeding 720 are the typical units of settlement, with houses dispersed in a more or less rectangular form around a central earth or grass "square." Villages are in flat clearings where the grass is scrupulously cut and kept free of rubbish. Houses are built by the men, each house normally being occupied by one nuclear family. Bachelors’ houses, of the same size and construction, are also built.’ ^[1] ’This chapter describes briefly the Orokaiva pattern of production and distribution, with particular reference to Sivepe and Inonda. Traditionally the villager operated within quite narrowly circumscribed physical limits. Each community functioned largely as an independent subsistence unit, almost all the requirements of life being produced through shifting agriculture and the subsidiary pursuits of fishing, hunting and foraging on its own land. Production was directed almost entirely to immediate and direct consumption, none of the staple foodstuffs except yams lending themselves to storage; exchange was confined largely to kindred within the community or in closely neighbouring communities. Beyond this, minor and informal trade links had developed between some of the inland and coastal peoples, but the degree of inter-dependence established can be considered insignificant.’ ^[2] The rural settlement pattern may have become more dispersed during the colonial period: ’Williams and others judge that with the modern pacification, the Orokaiva have tended to disperse in even smaller living units than before. This appears to apply particularly to the relatively densely populated Lamington slopes, though a few instances of larger aggregations approaching a village type also occurred, particularly as a result of Mission influence. Over against this greater dispersal, the people have mingled more freely as a result of travel on the government roads and trails (which they have to keep in order), trading, Mission and official gatherings, and other new opportunities for interpersonal relations. One special feature of Orokaiva life in modern times is the annual burning-off of grasslands by hunting parties in order to get wild game. This has probably involved the assembly of larger groups and is one of the few activities which could induce intersettlement co-operation. The writer sensed the parallel of the crude local fires set for garden clearing and the general burning-off of grasslands to the major burning and blackening in the wake of the volcano-doubtless a mighty job of clearing to the Orokaiva eye.’ ^[3] The colonial authorities also established settlements. [Ira Baschkow (pers. comm.): Through WWII these were only small settlements, hardly worthy of the term "town" at all. Janice Newton (pers. comm.): A few families of Orokaivans had visited Port Moresby and worked there or been imprisoned there before the second World War, . By the 1970s Port Moresby had built up quite a large population in squatter settlements but these were informally ordered into regional sections and sometimes involved rent payments to original landowners. Popondetta was a small agricultural base before the war, became strategic during the war as an allied air base and was developed as a small administration centre with a few general stores after the war. Although there were small ’squatter like’ settlements around the outskirts in 1977-9 it was nothing like Port Moresby in terms of makeshift developments. Jonathan Ritchie (pers. comm.): Does he mean Port Moresby? The other ‘urban’ locations were hardly that, at least in Northern District/Province) - and wasn’t Higaturu the main centre - not a town at all but the administrative headquarters? Nigel Oram (Colonial Town to Melanesian City) and Ian Stuart (Port Moresby Yesterday and Today 1970.)have written about early Port Moresby (and should have population estimates).] ’The establishment of towns, unknown before the coming of Europeans, has forced an even more drastic adaptation than have the changes in rural areas. For a man to leave his village and go to work in the town means long separation from his family and from his kin, an experience unheard of in the past. Separation from his relatives means that he may be facing dangerous risks from the sorcery of foreigners in an unknown country. This is one reason why migrant workers tend to live in kin clusters in the towns. Unemployment, inadequate living quarters, low wages, the necessity for paying in cash for all goods and services, and the obligation to send cash gifts to relatives in the villages, all add to the town dwellers’ difficulties.’ ^[4] ’The small urban population lives for the most part in towns whose original location was determined either by access to a good harbour for early colonial planters or, in the interior, by the availability of level land sufficient for an airstrip. Despite the greatly diminished importance of plantations and the relocation of most of these airstrips out of the towns, those origins helped determine the existing urban layout. Port Moresby and Lae, on the Huon Gulf, are the largest cities.’ ^[5] Popondetta is a notable example: ’Popondetta is a small town, population 6343 in 1980 (National Statistics Office 1980:14), with a few general stores, a market, hospital, courthouse, various government and semi-government offices and an hotel. It is a sleepy town, livened only recently by oil palm activity, the bustle of wholesale buying for village trade stores, and the ‘fortnight’, the government pay day, which stimulates a long weekend of drinking, singing and the occasional fight. Children love to visit the ‘town’, but adult women in particular yearn for the bright lights of Port Moresby spoken of by their menfolk.’ ^[6] We have provisionally assumed that most Orokaiva continued to reside in rural villages rather than small colonial settlements.

[1]: Latham, Christopher S.: eHRAF Cultural Summary for the Orokaiva

[2]: Waddell, Eric, and P. A. Krinks 1968. “Organisation Of Production And Distribution Among The Orokaiva: An Analysis Of Work And Exchange In Two Communities Participating In Both The Subsistence And Monetary Sectors Of The Economy”, 23

[3]: Keesing, Felix Maxwell 1952. “Papuan Orokaiva Vs Mt. Lamington: Cultural Shock And Its Aftermath”, 18

[4]: Dakeyne, R. B. 1969. “Village And Town In New Guinea”, 3

[5]: http://www.britannica.com/place/Papua-New-Guinea

[6]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 77p

levels.
(1) prominent figures in New Religious Movements;
(2) Local Shamans and Practitioners
Ritual practices were initially confined to the household level:’The belief in ghosts and spirits is a predominant characteristic of the northern native. In almost every tribe I have observed the propitiation of family ghosts with individual offerings of food by ordinary persons to secure the vitality of their food supply, and by sorcerers to stimulate their charms. Ghosts are invoked during ceremonies by divination to reveal crimes and criminals. Food offerings to ghosts are made during death feasts and during certain initiation rites. The house of initiation and the paraphernalia of the dance are believed to have spiritual powers, and when the paraphernalia are thrown into the river at the completion of the rites, they are invoked to smite the enemies of the dancers.’ ^[1] ’The traditional beliefs of the Orokaiva, though in many respects vague and locally variable, focused primarily on the "spirits of the dead" and their influence on the living. The Orokaiva had no high god. Formerly, they were animists, believing in the existence of souls (ASISI) in humans, plants, and animals. The taro spirit was of particular importance and was the inspiration and foundation of the Taro Cult. The Orokaiva have been swept recently by a series of new cults, indicative of their religious adaptability in the face of fresh experience. Mission influence is strong in the Northern District. Religious training is provided almost exclusively by the Anglican church, although mission influence has not totally eradicated traditional beliefs, producing an air of mysticism about the resultant religious system.’ ^[2] The colonial period saw both the spread of Christianity and the emergence of new supralocal religious movements: ’Mission influence is strong in the Northern District. This is provided almost exclusively by the Anglican church and is of a fairly orthodox nature. Mission influence is mixed somewhat with traditional beliefs and there is an air of mysticism about the resultant religious system.’ ^[3] ’There has been European contact of some form over a long period. The people are perhaps best known by the work of Williams (1928 and 1930) in which he describes the earlier cult movements and the attempts to master and control new contact situations. Two of these were the cult of the Baigona men and the Taro cult. The former was concerned with healing and sorcery through a type of priest who was in communication with the spirits of the dead and now resident in various reptiles, particularly the snake. The latter was evidenced in sorcery through a priest who was possessed with the spirit of the Taro. Violent dancing or ecstatic movements often accompanied by a trance were not unlike the dance of St Vitus or St John which swept Europe in the fourteenth century (Sargant 1957).’ ^[4] The Taro and Snake Cults are notable examples: ’The Orokaiva religious history is also particularly interesting here. Their traditional faith, Williams says, though in many respects vague and locally variable, concerned itself “primarily with the spirits of the dead” and their influence on the welfare of the living. Death was appraised with particular realism, although it was considered ultimately as the result of supernatural causes. Magic had a consistent place. Orokaiva country, however, has been swept in modern times by a series of new cults indicative of religious adaptability in the face of fresh experience. First to come into prominence was the Baigona, or “snake cult” of 1911-12, succeeded from 1914 on by the so-called “Taro cult” which in turn had undergone a series of local reformulations by the time Williams reported on it in 1924. Central features of the Taro cult were association of successful taro cultivation with the ancestral spirits, approached by way of a “shaking-fit” technique of revelation, together with somewhat new types of public ritual and symbols, including fragmentary elements from Christianity. Later Belshaw and others reported that “Christian Co-operative Evangelist” societies, which were developed by the Anglican Mission among some Orokaiva converts for the cooperative growing of rice and other crops, tended to assume a somewhat parallel and absorbing mystical agriculture context. Rumors spread of “an order from the King (of England) that co-operatives should be formed … (and that) as a result of their activities the white people would leave Papua and the villagers would be in charge of their own affairs.” This type of cooperative movement was stimulated after the war, and included putting crosses in the gardens, offering prayers before gardening activity, building special houses in which cooperators could meet and eat, and collecting money for vague purposes. Even in the face of Mission reluctance and some Orokaiva opposition, Government finally stepped in to try to give it better direction; a Cooperative officer was trying to bring the situation under control when the volcano exploded.’ ^[5] The specialists serving the Taro Cult are known as Taro men: ’Orokaiva shamans, or "taro men" serve as healers, weather magicians, and sorcerers.’ ^[2] The movement has produced leaders of intertribal renown: ’While practically every one has been a willing convert to the Taro cult in so far as it meant participation in the song and feast, and while perhaps the majority have given way at some time or other to the pleasant abandonment of the jipari, there is a wide class of Taro experts or special exponents of the cult. It is impossible to set a definite limit to this class. There are some who are recognized as leaders and who are very strongly ‘possessed’, and others who are little more than laymen. However, it is possible to include them all under the name of ba-embo, which means literally ‘Taro man’. Such men, who, like the Baigona men, might be called priests of the cult, officiate and lead in the ceremonial feasting; they perform certain duties in the taro gardens; they make a special practice of jipari and similar contortions; and they subject themselves to certain taboos. The theory of their conduct is that of possession by a spirit, either of the taro itself or of the dead.’ ^[6] ’It is perhaps on law and organization that the Taro cult has the most significant effect, albeit a rudimentary and indefinite one. The voluntary acceptance of a new ritual, however lax, the observance of taboos, the necessity for probation, are all influences making for law and law-abidingness. More significant still is the elementary hierarchy which we have observed among the Taro men (p. 32). The existence of leaders in one tribe who are recognized by distant votaries of the cult in another tribe stands perhaps for a new idea among the Orokaiva. The absence of any political cohesion among and within the peoples of Papua has been remarked by others. It is conceivable that such a movement as Taro might give the initial impetus to some more or less spontaneous political organization.’ ^[7] The codes given above combine local practice with patterns of the Taro Cult, reflecting its importance within the framework of culture change.

[1]: Chinnery, E. W. P., and Alfred C. (Alfred Cort) Haddon 1917. “Five New Religious Cults In British New Guinea”, 448

[2]: Latham, Christopher S.: eHRAF Cultural Summary for the Orokaiva

[3]: Kearney, George E. 1966. “Cognitive Capacity Among The Orokaiva”, 6

[4]: Kearney, George E. 1966. “Cognitive Capacity Among The Orokaiva”, 5

[5]: Keesing, Felix Maxwell 1952. “Papuan Orokaiva Vs Mt. Lamington: Cultural Shock And Its Aftermath”, 19

[6]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar) 1928. “Orokaiva Magic”, 10

[7]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar) 1928. “Orokaiva Magic”, 95

levels.
(1) Leaders of Village Clusters;
(2) Local War-Leaders or Strategists;(3) Citizen-Soldiers from local communities
The Orokaiva did not employ professional military officers in interclan warfare, relying on residential and kin ties as well as informal leadership: ’In interclan warfare, the Binandere organised a division of fighting labour. The first group, the scouts, were sent ahead to kill the scouts of the enemy’s main body. Then there were the front-line fighters, experienced men armed with clubs/spears and shields, forming the vanguard. Then there was a group of young people and men who had not killed. They beat drums, blew conch shells, sang war songs and generally used sound to frighten the enemy. Full-scale tribal warfare required the addition of two more groups. Firstly, sorcerers were carried on roofed litters from which they attempted to ward off enemy spirits. Being ritually pure they could have no contact with water. They ate only baked taro or bananas with coconut juice as well as much ginger. The second additional group were the strategists who were vital for long-drawn-out battles. This small group planned tactics, directed the front line and organised ambush killings and so on (1972:13-25).’ ^[1] ’Kinship and local affiliation together were the basic principles by which subgroups of the raiding party seem to have been drawn up during attack and on which leaders within the party based their rights to command specific combatants.’ ^[2] ’Waiko (1972) describes in detail the warfare of the Binandere, a society which like the ancient Spartans was reputed to practise infanticide on weak or deformed sons (Monckton 1922:130). Training for warfare began at an early age for boys. At about 12 years old they began living together in a men’s house and learning to dodge spears and to hold shields. Eventually they were required to prove themselves by killing a person in a raid (Waiko 1972:21). Part of the education imparted to the youths in the house was their primary duty to take revenge for the death of a clan member. A clan victim represented the clan and failure to avenge his death badly weakened their prestige and status. Killings had up to two generations delayed payback (1972:24-5).’ ^[3] There was no supralocal tribal leadership: ’There were ordinarily no persons who could command the allegiance of the tribe as a whole, nor was there any status with authority to effect the settlement of disputes between different subgroups or their individual members. Sometimes persistent intratribal conflicts led to short-term migration or to a splinter-group’s secession from the tribe. However, these disturbances were very minor in comparison with the ‘flight, dispersal and migration’ in general resulting from incessant intertribal feuds (see p. 35).’ ^[2] Some sources report the formation of ad hoc confederacies for the purpose of combat, but these seem to relate to geographical area rather than tribal institutions: ’Williams ascribes the formation of ‘somewhat loose’ and temporary ‘confederacies of clans’, which conducted raids upon the tribe’s kitoho, to a local spirit. But it is not clear whether by this he means the identification of members of a tribe with one territory or the unity of the ‘locality group’ which usually takes in a number of ‘clan-village units’ (see p.34) and which he describes as a more restricted ‘sympathy-group’ than the tribe (1930:107, 157, 163, 309-12). When he states (1925:407) that ‘over and above clan patriarchs there are recognised leaders of small clan confederacies and even - in war-time - of tribes’, he seems to equate the tribe with the district among the mountain Orokaiva (in particular Wasida and Isivita; see W.23, 124).’ ^[4] During the colonial period, a constabulary was formed: ’Thus, in the initial contact period, there were two major influences on the Orokaivan social order. First, the narrow moral universe of pre-contact days was widened. Orokaivans united in attempts to repulse the European intruders and also began to modify their traditional magic to improve taro. New spiritual rationale and ritual for these taro cults quickly spread through the Division after pacification. Some Orokaivans united with Europeans as armed constabulary or as friends and defenders of the missionaries.’ ^[5] [Janice Newton (pers. comm.): After official British annexation in 1884 and Crown colony status in 1888, in 1890 a police force was formed and a Resident Magistrate appointed for each administrative division. It seems there was not much training. The early constabulary were taught a little English and some of the rules for living like the white man (latrines, cleanliness etc). The British administration appointed village officials, village constables and armed constabulary. Often the Orokaivans were captured, taken back to stations taught some English and some of the English ways and laws. Imprisonment of villagers for offences was another way of imparting British principles of law. By 1924 many adult males had passed through the Armed Constabulary and hardly an adult male had not worked for Europeans (Cyndi Banks Women in Transition: Social Control in PNG Australian Institute of Criminology 1993).] In this case, a clear-cut distinction between law enforcement and military is hard to establish. In World War II, Orokaiva men were drafted into the Australian colonial army: ’The war of 1939-1945 affected the Yega in several important ways. Their territory became one of the major battlefields of the Pacific War. Every person migrated from the area with the exception of one old crippled woman who somehow managed to survive for eighteen months in the bush. Almost all able-bodied men served in the army or labour corps and the women and children lived at another Anglican mission about thirty miles to the north. When they returned, they found all buildings, and any belongings that they had left behind, destroyed and most of their coconut palms cut down or damaged by gunfire. There were some compensations. The Australian Government paid thousands of dollars in war-damage compensation for all trees and property but, more important, the stimulus of travel, and meeting and working with Australian and American soldiers, gave the younger men in particular a broader view of life which triggered off changes in their traditional economy. In addition, the transfer of the Administrative headquarters from Buna to Higaturu resulted in the construction of a major road to the port of Cape Killerton and brought the Yega into closer touch with the outside world than ever before. As a result, between 1945 and 1950, about twenty families left their re-built villages and moved east to found the new village of Surilai at Cape Killerton (Fig. 9).’ ^[6] Orokaiva men also worked as carriers, although their loyalties as a group were at times ambiguous: ’Those in the Northern Division saw the Japanese invasion, bloody fighting and occupation by Allied forces. This led to the peculiar position where the Orokaivans were seen as ‘fuzzy wuzzy angels’ as well as traitors and murderers. ‘Fuzzy wuzzy angel’ was a nickname given to conscripted carriers who demonstrated remarkable solicitude for the wounded whom they carried during the battle on the Kokoda Trail, and who showed considerable endurance in carrying both men and supplies for the Allies over the four months from July until October 1942. The Japanese presence in Northern Division did, however, lead to a reassessment of loyalties on the part of the Orokaivans and the consequent betrayal of some Allied personnel.’ ^[7] Orokaivas were conscripted into many non-combat roles as well: ’During the heavy fighting, most villagers had fled to garden houses where they could hide safely. However, in June 1942, there was an order made that ‘any native might be conscripted to serve anywhere in the Territories or Papua or New Guinea, more or less on any conditions imposed by the District Officers’. Carriers had worked so well during the Kokoda campaign that officials of the Australian New Guinea Army Unit (ANGAU) were keen to recruit more (Army File 285/1/680A; Benson 1957:18; Ryan 1969). Those men who were able to avoid the physical confrontations of the war by hiding in rough garden shelters for the duration could not avoid the consequences of the war. They became subject to conscription for work on plantations, for carrying, for malaria control and for clearing and construction work until the war was over (Army File 5/3/147).’ ^[8] The code reflects intertribal warfare rather than the Constabulary and colonial armed forces or the World War situation (and may therefore be somewhat dated). Both were realities of the colonial period. Some information on the Constabulary was included under ’Professions’. [Jonathan Ritchie (pers. comm.): On the military, I think pre-War this means the Police… and during the War, we’re looking at the Papuan Infantry Battalion - perhaps either Jim Sinclair’s To Find a Path - The Life and Times of the Royal Pacific Islands Regiment or G.M. Byrnes’ Green Shadows will help? The first recruits for the PIB were 70 from the Buna area - who I think were all drawn from the Royal Papuan Constabulary - who came in July 1940, supplemented by another 62 in May 1941. ’Military training was carried out until August 28, 1940 when everybody was put on road construction. During November, 24-hour guard duty was ordered at key points in the Port area [of Port Moresby]…. Until the end of August 1941 the guarding of vulnerable points, together with working parties on roads and wharves and training were the duties of the battalion. During September the battalion was allotted the defence area from Napa Napa to Jolers Bay. Recce (Reconnaissance) parties covered this area and the two companies moved out to positions in the allotted areas and began constructing tactical roads and defence positions. Working parties were practically discontinued as guard duties and intensive training were the order of the day.’ (from Byrnes, pp. 5-6).]

[1]: Newton, Janice 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production”, 490

[2]: Rimoldi, Max, Cromwell Burau, and Robert Ferraris 1966. “Land Tenure And Land Use Among The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 30

[3]: Newton, Janice 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production”, 489

[4]: Rimoldi, Max, Cromwell Burau, and Robert Ferraris 1966. “Land Tenure And Land Use Among The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 36

[5]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 34

[6]: Dakeyne, R. B. 1969. “Village And Town In New Guinea”, 13

[7]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 43

[8]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 46

levels. According to the Ethnographic Atlas’ variable 33 ’Jurisdictional Hierarchy Beyond Local Community’ was ‘1’ or ’No levels (no political authority beyond community) (.0)’. SCCS variable 76 ’Community Leadership’ is coded as ‘3’ or ’Single local leader and council’. SCCS variable 237 ’Jurisdictional Hierarchy Beyond Local Community’ is coded as ‘1’ or ’No levels (no political authority beyond community)’. We have excluded the central colonial government and the colonial district government from the code here.
(1) [Central Colonial Government]
(2) [Colonial District Government](3) Village Constables and other local officials(4) Village Elders and Big Men (Embo Dambo)
Initially, political authority was confined to the informal leadership of elders and local big men: ’Political organization incorporates no central authority or hereditary leadership. Instead, it is characterized by big-men(EMBO DAMBO) and an ascendancy of elders who have proved themselves equal to the task. Such men command the respect of the village, based upon observed qualities of generosity, diligence, wealth, ability to make wise decisions, and skill in arranging ceremonial activities. This status confers no sanctioning authority, however. The Orokaiva tribes, around twelve in number, are very loose units politically and recognize no single leader. The largest unit is the tribe, which has a common territory usually demarcated from neighboring tribal territories by a belt of uninhabited land.’ ^[1] The labour and support of wives and younger men was key in the career of big men: ’Without multiple wives or a pool of single men retainers, the scope for a leader in large-scale exchange is limited. The lack of retainers attaching themselves to leaders’ households could perhaps be due to the end of warfare and to improved community health so that there are now few orphans or fatherless sons. Almost every youth has a father or older brother to guarantee the payment of his brideprice. The productive relations between old men and young men are interesting in that they provide the possibility for a form of exploitation or unequal return for equal work, with the old men withholding the young men’s access to a bride.’ ^[2] ’The social system is characterized by flexibility in arrangements for group membership and for transmission of rights to land. A village normally contains more than one clan branch and consequently is not necessarily a landholding unit. Residents may have closer kinship ties to residents of other villages than with some of their coresidents. Nevertheless, common residence implies some community of interest and a degree of group solidarity that is reinforced by government policy, which recognizes villages rather than descent groups as functional entities. Marriages between members of different clan branches within the village also reinforce this solidarity, which is expressed in ways such as daily food gifts, cooperation in certain tasks, and joint ceremonial activities. On the average, a lineage comprises three households. Usually, several clans are represented in a village, with members of a single clan (clan branches) being scattered among a number of neighboring villages. Lineages are more localized in cha racter, frequently being confined to a single village and tending to occupy one section of it.’ ^[1] ’There were ordinarily no persons who could command the allegiance of the tribe as a whole, nor was there any status with authority to effect the settlement of disputes between different subgroups or their individual members. Sometimes persistent intratribal conflicts led to short-term migration or to a splinter-group’s secession from the tribe. However, these disturbances were very minor in comparison with the ‘flight, dispersal and migration’ in general resulting from incessant intertribal feuds (see p. 35).’ ^[3] According to Williams, village and clan clusters occasionally formed ad hoc alliances when facing external threats: ’Williams ascribes the formation of ‘somewhat loose’ and temporary ‘confederacies of clans’, which conducted raids upon the tribe’s kitoho, to a local spirit. But it is not clear whether by this he means the identification of members of a tribe with one territory or the unity of the ‘locality group’ which usually takes in a number of ‘clan-village units’ (see p.34) and which he describes as a more restricted ‘sympathy-group’ than the tribe (1930:107, 157, 163, 309-12). When he states (1925:407) that ‘over and above clan patriarchs there are recognised leaders of small clan confederacies and even - in war-time - of tribes’, he seems to equate the tribe with the district among the mountain Orokaiva (in particular Wasida and Isivita; see W.23, 124).’ ^[4] ’This combination for better defence may have been characteristic of tribes throughout the Orokaiva area. We believe, however, that the subdividing of the tribe into discrete named groups of named villages (either district or ‘hamlet group’) would be unique to the mountain Orokaiva in the culture area; we do not have enough evidence to show if this feature is related to the earlier clustering for safety, and to the greater population density in this tribe.’ ^[5] During the colonial period, British and Australian authorities superimposed their own administrative structure on the native system, installing village constables as intermediaries: ’In response to Australian pressure, the British government annexed Papua in 1888. Gold was discovered shortly thereafter, resulting in a major movement of prospectors and miners to what was then the Northern District. Relations with the Papuans were bad from the start, and there were numerous killings on both sides. The Protectorate of British New Guinea became Australian territory by the passing of the Papua Act of 1905 by the Commonwealth Government of Australia. The new administration adopted a policy of peaceful penetration, and many measures of social and economic national development were introduced. Local control was in the hands of village constables, paid servants of the Crown. Chosen by European officers, they were intermediaries between the government and the people. In 1951 an eruption occurred on Mount Lamington, completely devastating a large part of the area occupied by the Orokaiva.’ ^[6] [Janice Newton (pers. comm.): After official British annexation in 1884 and Crown colony status in 1888, in 1890 a police force was formed and a Resident Magistrate appointed for each administrative division. It seems there was not much training. The early constabulary were taught a little English and some of the rules for living like the white man (latrines, cleanliness etc). The British administration appointed village officials, village constables and armed constabulary. Often the Orokaivans were captured, taken back to stations taught some English and some of the English ways and laws. Imprisonment of villagers for offences was another way of imparting British principles of law. By 1924 many adult males had passed through the Armed Constabulary and hardly an adult male had not worked for Europeans (Cyndi Banks Women in Transition: Social Control in PNG Australian Institute of Criminology 1993).]

[1]: Latham, Christopher S.: eHRAF Cultural Summary for the Orokaiva

[2]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 204

[3]: Rimoldi, Max, Cromwell Burau, and Robert Ferraris 1966. “Land Tenure And Land Use Among The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 30

[4]: Rimoldi, Max, Cromwell Burau, and Robert Ferraris 1966. “Land Tenure And Land Use Among The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 36

[5]: Rimoldi, Max, Cromwell Burau, and Robert Ferraris 1966. “Land Tenure And Land Use Among The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 37

[6]: Latham, Christopher S.: eHRAf Cultural Summary for the Orokaiva

The Orokaiva did not employ professional military officers in interclan warfare, relying on residential and kin ties as well as informal leadership: ’In interclan warfare, the Binandere organised a division of fighting labour. The first group, the scouts, were sent ahead to kill the scouts of the enemy’s main body. Then there were the front-line fighters, experienced men armed with clubs/spears and shields, forming the vanguard. Then there was a group of young people and men who had not killed. They beat drums, blew conch shells, sang war songs and generally used sound to frighten the enemy. Full-scale tribal warfare required the addition of two more groups. Firstly, sorcerers were carried on roofed litters from which they attempted to ward off enemy spirits. Being ritually pure they could have no contact with water. They ate only baked taro or bananas with coconut juice as well as much ginger. The second additional group were the strategists who were vital for long-drawn-out battles. This small group planned tactics, directed the front line and organised ambush killings and so on (1972:13-25).’ ^[1] ’Kinship and local affiliation together were the basic principles by which subgroups of the raiding party seem to have been drawn up during attack and on which leaders within the party based their rights to command specific combatants.’ ^[2] ’Waiko (1972) describes in detail the warfare of the Binandere, a society which like the ancient Spartans was reputed to practise infanticide on weak or deformed sons (Monckton 1922:130). Training for warfare began at an early age for boys. At about 12 years old they began living together in a men’s house and learning to dodge spears and to hold shields. Eventually they were required to prove themselves by killing a person in a raid (Waiko 1972:21). Part of the education imparted to the youths in the house was their primary duty to take revenge for the death of a clan member. A clan victim represented the clan and failure to avenge his death badly weakened their prestige and status. Killings had up to two generations delayed payback (1972:24-5).’ ^[3] During the colonial period, the Royal Papuan Constabulary was formed. [The constabulary was not Orokaiva specifically, but Orokaiva men were drawn into the Royal Papuan Constabulary, where they often served alongside men from elsewhere in the Territory. There they received training from colonial authorities.] ’Thus, in the initial contact period, there were two major influences on the Orokaivan social order. First, the narrow moral universe of pre-contact days was widened. Orokaivans united in attempts to repulse the European intruders and also began to modify their traditional magic to improve taro. New spiritual rationale and ritual for these taro cults quickly spread through the Division after pacification. Some Orokaivans united with Europeans as armed constabulary or as friends and defenders of the missionaries.’ ^[4] The development of the constabulary can be sketched as follows: ’During the first phase, no legislation allowed for a police force in either possession, a situation that ended in Papua in 1890 and in New Guinea in 1896. The second phase, which lasted until 1910, saw the establishment of police forces and was characterized by haphazard training and punitive expeditions. In the third phase, from 1910 to 1940, the police forces were consolidated and a coordinated and systematic training program was inaugurated. The disruption and trauma of World War II characterized the fourth phase, from 1940 to 1946. The fifth phase, which began after the war and continued into the 1960s, was marked by changes in structure and organization to accommodate changing conditions.’ ^[5] ’In New Guinea in 1888, the New Guinea Company took over the responsibility for the formation of a “peace keeping” force for the maintenance of law and order wherever the Germans had established jurisdiction. [...] However, very few Papuans and New Guineans were included in the early forces, which were composed mainly of foreigners: Australians, British, Germans, Malays, and South Sea Islanders (Dutton 1987, 62-63; Sinclair 1972, 918).’ ^[6] Training was initially on an ad hoc basis, but became more formalized later on: ’In Papua the annual reports for the period between 1890 and 1910 indicated that the training of new recruits was at best haphazard and at worst nonexistent. [...] In my assessment, the third phase, from 1911 of 1940 was the most significant. It not only marked the beginning of a coordinated and systematic police training program, but also set a pattern that continued to be influential after the war.’ ^[7] ’The fourth phase, 1940 to 1946, spanned the dramatic era of World War II. Because of the exigencies of the situation, policemen of both forces underwent short but intensive military training in Port Moresby before being deployed wherever they were most needed. The nature of the training received has no parallel in pre- or postwar forces of either territory.’ ^[8] Drill-sergeants (aka their equivalents among the colonial forces) worked from a training manual adopted in 1911 that was ’historically linked to British armies and the Royal Irish Constabulary. It proved attractive initially to the Papuan force, and later to the combined force’ ^[9] Training involved mostly military-style drills, giving the Constabulary a para-military character. In the 1930s, some elementary-level schooling was added: ’During the 1930s young men in Rabaul learned simple arithmetic, simple English, to tell the time of day by observing changes in the daily routine, and, for those selected for the police band, to read music. During 1933-1934, recruits with particular technical skills were accepted for the first time.’ ^[10] [Janice Newton (pers. comm.): After official British annexation in 1884 and Crown colony status in 1888, in 1890 a police force was formed and a Resident Magistrate appointed for each administrative division. It seems there was not much training. The early constabulary were taught a little English and some of the rules for living like the white man (latrines, cleanliness etc). The British administration appointed village officials, village constables and armed constabulary. Often the Orokaivans were captured, taken back to stations taught some English and some of the English ways and laws. Imprisonment of villagers for offences was another way of imparting British principles of law. By 1924 many adult males had passed through the Armed Constabulary and hardly an adult male had not worked for Europeans (Cyndi Banks Women in Transition: Social Control in PNG Australian Institute of Criminology 1993).] A clear-cut distinction between law enforcement and military is hard to draw in this context. In World War II, Orokaiva men were drafted into the Australian colonial army: ’The war of 1939-1945 affected the Yega in several important ways. Their territory became one of the major battlefields of the Pacific War. Every person migrated from the area with the exception of one old crippled woman who somehow managed to survive for eighteen months in the bush. Almost all able-bodied men served in the army or labour corps and the women and children lived at another Anglican mission about thirty miles to the north. When they returned, they found all buildings, and any belongings that they had left behind, destroyed and most of their coconut palms cut down or damaged by gunfire. There were some compensations. The Australian Government paid thousands of dollars in war-damage compensation for all trees and property but, more important, the stimulus of travel, and meeting and working with Australian and American soldiers, gave the younger men in particular a broader view of life which triggered off changes in their traditional economy. In addition, the transfer of the Administrative headquarters from Buna to Higaturu resulted in the construction of a major road to the port of Cape Killerton and brought the Yega into closer touch with the outside world than ever before. As a result, between 1945 and 1950, about twenty families left their re-built villages and moved east to found the new village of Surilai at Cape Killerton (Fig. 9).’ ^[11] Orokaiva men also worked as carriers, although their loyalties as a group were at times ambiguous: ’Those in the Northern Division saw the Japanese invasion, bloody fighting and occupation by Allied forces. This led to the peculiar position where the Orokaivans were seen as ‘fuzzy wuzzy angels’ as well as traitors and murderers. ‘Fuzzy wuzzy angel’ was a nickname given to conscripted carriers who demonstrated remarkable solicitude for the wounded whom they carried during the battle on the Kokoda Trail, and who showed considerable endurance in carrying both men and supplies for the Allies over the four months from July until October 1942. The Japanese presence in Northern Division did, however, lead to a reassessment of loyalties on the part of the Orokaivans and the consequent betrayal of some Allied personnel.’ ^[12] Orokaivas were conscripted into many non-combat roles as well: ’During the heavy fighting, most villagers had fled to garden houses where they could hide safely. However, in June 1942, there was an order made that ‘any native might be conscripted to serve anywhere in the Territories or Papua or New Guinea, more or less on any conditions imposed by the District Officers’. Carriers had worked so well during the Kokoda campaign that officials of the Australian New Guinea Army Unit (ANGAU) were keen to recruit more (Army File 285/1/680A; Benson 1957:18; Ryan 1969). Those men who were able to avoid the physical confrontations of the war by hiding in rough garden shelters for the duration could not avoid the consequences of the war. They became subject to conscription for work on plantations, for carrying, for malaria control and for clearing and construction work until the war was over (Army File 5/3/147).’ ^[13] The code takes into account the presence of colonial armed forces and the recruitment of native men to armed bodies. [Jonathan Ritchie (pers. comm.): On the military, I think pre-War this means the Police… and during the War, we’re looking at the Papuan Infantry Battalion - perhaps either Jim Sinclair’s To Find a Path - The Life and Times of the Royal Pacific Islands Regiment or G.M. Byrnes’ Green Shadows will help? The first recruits for the PIB were 70 from the Buna area - who I think were all drawn from the Royal Papuan Constabulary - who came in July 1940, supplemented by another 62 in May 1941. ’Military training was carried out until August 28, 1940 when everybody was put on road construction. During November, 24-hour guard duty was ordered at key points in the Port area [of Port Moresby]…. Until the end of August 1941 the guarding of vulnerable points, together with working parties on roads and wharves and training were the duties of the battalion. During September the battalion was allotted the defence area from Napa Napa to Jolers Bay. Recce (Reconnaissance) parties covered this area and the two companies moved out to positions in the allotted areas and began constructing tactical roads and defence positions. Working parties were practically discontinued as guard duties and intensive training were the order of the day.’ (from Byrnes, pp. 5-6).]

[1]: Newton, Janice 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production”, 490

[2]: Rimoldi, Max, Cromwell Burau, and Robert Ferraris 1966. “Land Tenure And Land Use Among The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 30

[3]: Newton, Janice 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production”, 489

[4]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 34

[5]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 85

[6]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 85p

[7]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 86p

[8]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 87

[9]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 109

[10]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 98

[11]: Dakeyne, R. B. 1969. “Village And Town In New Guinea”, 13

[12]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 43

[13]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 46

Ritual practices were initially confined to the household level:’The belief in ghosts and spirits is a predominant characteristic of the northern native. In almost every tribe I have observed the propitiation of family ghosts with individual offerings of food by ordinary persons to secure the vitality of their food supply, and by sorcerers to stimulate their charms. Ghosts are invoked during ceremonies by divination to reveal crimes and criminals. Food offerings to ghosts are made during death feasts and during certain initiation rites. The house of initiation and the paraphernalia of the dance are believed to have spiritual powers, and when the paraphernalia are thrown into the river at the completion of the rites, they are invoked to smite the enemies of the dancers.’ ^[1] ’The traditional beliefs of the Orokaiva, though in many respects vague and locally variable, focused primarily on the "spirits of the dead" and their influence on the living. The Orokaiva had no high god. Formerly, they were animists, believing in the existence of souls (ASISI) in humans, plants, and animals. The taro spirit was of particular importance and was the inspiration and foundation of the Taro Cult. The Orokaiva have been swept recently by a series of new cults, indicative of their religious adaptability in the face of fresh experience. Mission influence is strong in the Northern District. Religious training is provided almost exclusively by the Anglican church, although mission influence has not totally eradicated traditional beliefs, producing an air of mysticism about the resultant religious system.’ ^[2] The colonial period saw both the spread of Christianity and the emergence of new religious movements: ’Mission influence is strong in the Northern District. This is provided almost exclusively by the Anglican church and is of a fairly orthodox nature. Mission influence is mixed somewhat with traditional beliefs and there is an air of mysticism about the resultant religious system.’ ^[3] ’There has been European contact of some form over a long period. The people are perhaps best known by the work of Williams (1928 and 1930) in which he describes the earlier cult movements and the attempts to master and control new contact situations. Two of these were the cult of the Baigona men and the Taro cult. The former was concerned with healing and sorcery through a type of priest who was in communication with the spirits of the dead and now resident in various reptiles, particularly the snake. The latter was evidenced in sorcery through a priest who was possessed with the spirit of the Taro. Violent dancing or ecstatic movements often accompanied by a trance were not unlike the dance of St Vitus or St John which swept Europe in the fourteenth century (Sargant 1957).’ ^[4] The Taro and Snake Cults are notable examples: ’The Orokaiva religious history is also particularly interesting here. Their traditional faith, Williams says, though in many respects vague and locally variable, concerned itself “primarily with the spirits of the dead” and their influence on the welfare of the living. Death was appraised with particular realism, although it was considered ultimately as the result of supernatural causes. Magic had a consistent place. Orokaiva country, however, has been swept in modern times by a series of new cults indicative of religious adaptability in the face of fresh experience. First to come into prominence was the Baigona, or “snake cult” of 1911-12, succeeded from 1914 on by the so-called “Taro cult” which in turn had undergone a series of local reformulations by the time Williams reported on it in 1924. Central features of the Taro cult were association of successful taro cultivation with the ancestral spirits, approached by way of a “shaking-fit” technique of revelation, together with somewhat new types of public ritual and symbols, including fragmentary elements from Christianity. Later Belshaw and others reported that “Christian Co-operative Evangelist” societies, which were developed by the Anglican Mission among some Orokaiva converts for the cooperative growing of rice and other crops, tended to assume a somewhat parallel and absorbing mystical agriculture context. Rumors spread of “an order from the King (of England) that co-operatives should be formed … (and that) as a result of their activities the white people would leave Papua and the villagers would be in charge of their own affairs.” This type of cooperative movement was stimulated after the war, and included putting crosses in the gardens, offering prayers before gardening activity, building special houses in which cooperators could meet and eat, and collecting money for vague purposes. Even in the face of Mission reluctance and some Orokaiva opposition, Government finally stepped in to try to give it better direction; a Cooperative officer was trying to bring the situation under control when the volcano exploded.’ ^[5] The specialists serving the Taro Cult are known as Taro men: ’Orokaiva shamans, or "taro men" serve as healers, weather magicians, and sorcerers.’ ^[2] The movement has produced leaders of intertribal renown: ’It is perhaps on law and organization that the Taro cult has the most significant effect, albeit a rudimentary and indefinite one. The voluntary acceptance of a new ritual, however lax, the observance of taboos, the necessity for probation, are all influences making for law and law-abidingness. More significant still is the elementary hierarchy which we have observed among the Taro men (p. 32). The existence of leaders in one tribe who are recognized by distant votaries of the cult in another tribe stands perhaps for a new idea among the Orokaiva. The absence of any political cohesion among and within the peoples of Papua has been remarked by others. It is conceivable that such a movement as Taro might give the initial impetus to some more or less spontaneous political organization.’ ^[6] It remains unclear whether Taro Men can be considered full-time specialists: ’While practically every one has been a willing convert to the Taro cult in so far as it meant participation in the song and feast, and while perhaps the majority have given way at some time or other to the pleasant abandonment of the jipari, there is a wide class of Taro experts or special exponents of the cult. It is impossible to set a definite limit to this class. There are some who are recognized as leaders and who are very strongly ‘possessed’, and others who are little more than laymen. However, it is possible to include them all under the name of ba-embo, which means literally ‘Taro man’. Such men, who, like the Baigona men, might be called priests of the cult, officiate and lead in the ceremonial feasting; they perform certain duties in the taro gardens; they make a special practice of jipari and similar contortions; and they subject themselves to certain taboos. The theory of their conduct is that of possession by a spirit, either of the taro itself or of the dead.’ ^[7]

[1]: Chinnery, E. W. P., and Alfred C. (Alfred Cort) Haddon 1917. “Five New Religious Cults In British New Guinea”, 448

[2]: Latham, Christopher S.: eHRAF Cultural Summary for the Orokaiva

[3]: Kearney, George E. 1966. “Cognitive Capacity Among The Orokaiva”, 6

[4]: Kearney, George E. 1966. “Cognitive Capacity Among The Orokaiva”, 5

[5]: Keesing, Felix Maxwell 1952. “Papuan Orokaiva Vs Mt. Lamington: Cultural Shock And Its Aftermath”, 19

[6]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar) 1928. “Orokaiva Magic”, 95

[7]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar) 1928. “Orokaiva Magic”, 10

The Orokaiva did not employ professional military officers in interclan warfare, relying on residential and kin ties as well as informal leadership: ’In interclan warfare, the Binandere organised a division of fighting labour. The first group, the scouts, were sent ahead to kill the scouts of the enemy’s main body. Then there were the front-line fighters, experienced men armed with clubs/spears and shields, forming the vanguard. Then there was a group of young people and men who had not killed. They beat drums, blew conch shells, sang war songs and generally used sound to frighten the enemy. Full-scale tribal warfare required the addition of two more groups. Firstly, sorcerers were carried on roofed litters from which they attempted to ward off enemy spirits. Being ritually pure they could have no contact with water. They ate only baked taro or bananas with coconut juice as well as much ginger. The second additional group were the strategists who were vital for long-drawn-out battles. This small group planned tactics, directed the front line and organised ambush killings and so on (1972:13-25).’ ^[1] ’Kinship and local affiliation together were the basic principles by which subgroups of the raiding party seem to have been drawn up during attack and on which leaders within the party based their rights to command specific combatants.’ ^[2] ’Waiko (1972) describes in detail the warfare of the Binandere, a society which like the ancient Spartans was reputed to practise infanticide on weak or deformed sons (Monckton 1922:130). Training for warfare began at an early age for boys. At about 12 years old they began living together in a men’s house and learning to dodge spears and to hold shields. Eventually they were required to prove themselves by killing a person in a raid (Waiko 1972:21). Part of the education imparted to the youths in the house was their primary duty to take revenge for the death of a clan member. A clan victim represented the clan and failure to avenge his death badly weakened their prestige and status. Killings had up to two generations delayed payback (1972:24-5).’ ^[3] During the colonial period, the Royal Papuan Constabulary was formed. [The constabulary was not Orokaiva specifically but Orokaiva men were drawn into the Royal Papuan Constabulary, where they often served alongside men from elsewhere in the Territory. There they received training from colonial authorities.] ’Thus, in the initial contact period, there were two major influences on the Orokaivan social order. First, the narrow moral universe of pre-contact days was widened. Orokaivans united in attempts to repulse the European intruders and also began to modify their traditional magic to improve taro. New spiritual rationale and ritual for these taro cults quickly spread through the Division after pacification. Some Orokaivans united with Europeans as armed constabulary or as friends and defenders of the missionaries.’ ^[4] The development of the constabulary can be sketched as follows: ’During the first phase, no legislation allowed for a police force in either possession, a situation that ended in Papua in 1890 and in New Guinea in 1896. The second phase, which lasted until 1910, saw the establishment of police forces and was characterized by haphazard training and punitive expeditions. In the third phase, from 1910 to 1940, the police forces were consolidated and a coordinated and systematic training program was inaugurated. The disruption and trauma of World War II characterized the fourth phase, from 1940 to 1946. The fifth phase, which began after the war and continued into the 1960s, was marked by changes in structure and organization to accommodate changing conditions.’ ^[5] ’In New Guinea in 1888, the New Guinea Company took over the responsibility for the formation of a “peace keeping” force for the maintenance of law and order wherever the Germans had established jurisdiction. [...] However, very few Papuans and New Guineans were included in the early forces, which were composed mainly of foreigners: Australians, British, Germans, Malays, and South Sea Islanders (Dutton 1987, 62-63; Sinclair 1972, 918).’ ^[6] Training was initially on an ad hoc basis, but became more formalized later on: ’In Papua the annual reports for the period between 1890 and 1910 indicated that the training of new recruits was at best haphazard and at worst nonexistent. [...] In my assessment, the third phase, from 1911 of 1940 was the most significant. It not only marked the beginning of a coordinated and systematic police training program, but also set a pattern that continued to be influential after the war.’ ^[7] ’The fourth phase, 1940 to 1946, spanned the dramatic era of World War II. Because of the exigencies of the situation, policemen of both forces underwent short but intensive military training in Port Moresby before being deployed wherever they were most needed. The nature of the training received has no parallel in pre- or postwar forces of either territory.’ ^[8] Drill-sergeants (aka their equivalents among the colonial forces) worked from a training manual adopted in 1911 that was ’historically linked to British armies and the Royal Irish Constabulary. It proved attractive initially to the Papuan force, and later to the combined force’ ^[9] Training involved mostly military-style drills, giving the Constabulary a para-military character. In the 1930s, some elementary-level schooling was added: ’During the 1930s young men in Rabaul learned simple arithmetic, simple English, to tell the time of day by observing changes in the daily routine, and, for those selected for the police band, to read music. During 1933-1934, recruits with particular technical skills were accepted for the first time.’ ^[10] [Janice Newton (pers. comm.): After official British annexation in 1884 and Crown colony status in 1888, in 1890 a police force was formed and a Resident Magistrate appointed for each administrative division. It seems there was not much training. The early constabulary were taught a little English and some of the rules for living like the white man (latrines, cleanliness etc). The British administration appointed village officials, village constables and armed constabulary. Often the Orokaivans were captured, taken back to stations taught some English and some of the English ways and laws. Imprisonment of villagers for offences was another way of imparting British principles of law. By 1924 many adult males had passed through the Armed Constabulary and hardly an adult male had not worked for Europeans (Cyndi Banks Women in Transition: Social Control in PNG Australian Institute of Criminology 1993).] A clear-cut distinction between law enforcement and military is hard to draw in this context. In World War II, Orokaiva men were drafted into the Australian colonial army: ’The war of 1939-1945 affected the Yega in several important ways. Their territory became one of the major battlefields of the Pacific War. Every person migrated from the area with the exception of one old crippled woman who somehow managed to survive for eighteen months in the bush. Almost all able-bodied men served in the army or labour corps and the women and children lived at another Anglican mission about thirty miles to the north. When they returned, they found all buildings, and any belongings that they had left behind, destroyed and most of their coconut palms cut down or damaged by gunfire. There were some compensations. The Australian Government paid thousands of dollars in war-damage compensation for all trees and property but, more important, the stimulus of travel, and meeting and working with Australian and American soldiers, gave the younger men in particular a broader view of life which triggered off changes in their traditional economy. In addition, the transfer of the Administrative headquarters from Buna to Higaturu resulted in the construction of a major road to the port of Cape Killerton and brought the Yega into closer touch with the outside world than ever before. As a result, between 1945 and 1950, about twenty families left their re-built villages and moved east to found the new village of Surilai at Cape Killerton (Fig. 9).’ ^[11] Orokaiva men also worked as carriers, although their loyalties as a group were at times ambiguous: ’Those in the Northern Division saw the Japanese invasion, bloody fighting and occupation by Allied forces. This led to the peculiar position where the Orokaivans were seen as ‘fuzzy wuzzy angels’ as well as traitors and murderers. ‘Fuzzy wuzzy angel’ was a nickname given to conscripted carriers who demonstrated remarkable solicitude for the wounded whom they carried during the battle on the Kokoda Trail, and who showed considerable endurance in carrying both men and supplies for the Allies over the four months from July until October 1942. The Japanese presence in Northern Division did, however, lead to a reassessment of loyalties on the part of the Orokaivans and the consequent betrayal of some Allied personnel.’ ^[12] Orokaivas were conscripted into many non-combat roles as well: ’During the heavy fighting, most villagers had fled to garden houses where they could hide safely. However, in June 1942, there was an order made that ‘any native might be conscripted to serve anywhere in the Territories or Papua or New Guinea, more or less on any conditions imposed by the District Officers’. Carriers had worked so well during the Kokoda campaign that officials of the Australian New Guinea Army Unit (ANGAU) were keen to recruit more (Army File 285/1/680A; Benson 1957:18; Ryan 1969). Those men who were able to avoid the physical confrontations of the war by hiding in rough garden shelters for the duration could not avoid the consequences of the war. They became subject to conscription for work on plantations, for carrying, for malaria control and for clearing and construction work until the war was over (Army File 5/3/147).’ ^[13] The code takes into account the presence of colonial armed forces and the recruitment of native men into armed bodies. [Jonathan Ritchie (pers. comm.): On the military, I think pre-War this means the Police… and during the War, we’re looking at the Papuan Infantry Battalion - perhaps either Jim Sinclair’s To Find a Path - The Life and Times of the Royal Pacific Islands Regiment or G.M. Byrnes’ Green Shadows will help? The first recruits for the PIB were 70 from the Buna area - who I think were all drawn from the Royal Papuan Constabulary - who came in July 1940, supplemented by another 62 in May 1941. ’Military training was carried out until August 28, 1940 when everybody was put on road construction. During November, 24-hour guard duty was ordered at key points in the Port area [of Port Moresby]…. Until the end of August 1941 the guarding of vulnerable points, together with working parties on roads and wharves and training were the duties of the battalion. During September the battalion was allotted the defence area from Napa Napa to Jolers Bay. Recce (Reconnaissance) parties covered this area and the two companies moved out to positions in the allotted areas and began constructing tactical roads and defence positions. Working parties were practically discontinued as guard duties and intensive training were the order of the day.’ (from Byrnes, pp. 5-6).]

[1]: Newton, Janice 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production”, 490

[2]: Rimoldi, Max, Cromwell Burau, and Robert Ferraris 1966. “Land Tenure And Land Use Among The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 30

[3]: Newton, Janice 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production”, 489

[4]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 34

[5]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 85

[6]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 85p

[7]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 86p

[8]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 87

[9]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 109

[10]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 98

[11]: Dakeyne, R. B. 1969. “Village And Town In New Guinea”, 13

[12]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 43

[13]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 46

The colonial administration erected patrol houses in pacified areas, and probably relied on government buildings in colonial settlements, such as Port Moresby: ’Koropata was one of the earliest inland Orokaivan villages to co-operate with the newcomers. Their men carried for patrols in 1901, and around 1902 village policemen or constables were appointed and the government claimed a reliable friendship with the community. In 1905, a patrol house was built on 2½ acres of village land at Koropata. Village men were used to build the house and make gardens for which they received tobacco and other goods (Griffin, in File 412, Box 6549, G91; Elliot in 6548, 684C, G91).’ ^[1] More information on patrol houses is needed.

[1]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 55

The colonial administration initially struggled to extend its reach to the interior: ’Armed clashes and the threat of use of violence were, of course, not effective means of achieving pacification. Government, commerce and the missionaries all used gift-giving as a method of establishing some kind of modus vivendi with the local people. The missionaries were most likely to handle threatening situations by giving goods such as cloth, iron, tobacco, beads and mirrors. They lamented that their Christian message was taken by the people as secondary to their provision of medical aid and goods. The Administration also made some use of the giving of gifts as a placatory technique. MacGregor and Monckton used presents suspended on trees or left on paths to avert trouble. However, in riskier situations, government officers would not hesitate to use firearms (Cecil King 1934:13; Chignell 1911:6, 140, 226; Wetherell 1977:32, 159).’ ^[1] Village constables were installed as intermediaries: ’Village Constables. The suppression by force which had marked the early contact phase gave way to a form of ‘indirect rule’ through the appointment of Village Constables. The earliest Village Constables were the strong, leading men who had confronted the Europeans as warriors. As time passed war leaders were no longer a feature of the society, but patrol reports indicate that by and large Village Constables were influential and effective in the maintenance of law and order. The position of Village Constables was an uncomfortable and interstitial one. They had the difficult task of attempting to juggle the interests of their relatives and exchange partners and of the Administration, so that both sides were reasonably happy most of the time. Between 1907 and 1914 the number of Village Constables in the Northern Division rose from fifty-four to eighty-three, indicating that this system of administration was satisfactory to the Australian authorities. The Village Constables were concerned with enforcing legislation which impinged upon many aspects of daily life: burial of the dead, upkeep of roads, construction of latrines, neatness of houses and so on. Failure to obey these regulations could lead to imprisonment.’ ^[2] ’Patrol reports from 1915 to the 1920s note regular satisfactory reporting by the Village Constables despite variations in the standard of housing, village cleanliness and road maintenance. Occasionally police would have to deal with disobedience against the colonial authority. In some cases the non-compliance stemmed from confusion about changed regulations but at other times the people deliberately avoided their obligations to carry for the government. In 1918 the Koropatan Village Constable enquired if carrying was still to be compulsory. He was probably confused following rumours of new legislation on carrying conditions. In 1919 and 1924 men in the area ran away when requested to carry (Bowden, 423, 6550, G91; Baker, 3995, 6548, G91; Flint, 402, 6549, G91).’ ^[3] ’At the time of the eruption, a certain number of new roles had already become firmly established among Papuans: member of the Royal Papuan Constabulary, Village Constable, Mission Teacher, Medical Orderly, Clerk, Labourer. Post-war government policy aimed at greatly increasing the number and scope of these roles, both by [Page 56] instituting numerous training programmes for the development of skills hitherto unknown to Papuans, and by setting up organisations in which Papuans wield a limited amount of political and administrative responsibility. It suffices, for my present purpose, to enumerate modern roles, performed by Papuans, with which the people of Sivepe came into contact during the year of my field study.’ ^[4] Government Councils later replaced ad hoc administration by individual officials: ’The Government, keen now to develop a prosperous and loyal colony for defence purposes, no longer used coercion in the establishment of cash crops. They strongly encouraged such activity, but in the context of individual plots as anything co-operative or communal smacked of communism (Schwimmer 1969:86). They promoted coffee and cocoa by promising large, individual returns. The new Local Government Councils became the agencies of the Administration to promote land-tenure conversion and the planting of coffee and Malayan rubber on the individual blocks created (Waddell & Krinks 1968:15; Healey 1961:490; Jinks 1968:31, 28; Griffin, Nelson & Firth 1979:123).’ ^[5] Village Constables were paid by the colonial administration: ’In response to Australian pressure, the British government annexed Papua in 1888. Gold was discovered shortly thereafter, resulting in a major movement of prospectors and miners to what was then the Northern District. Relations with the Papuans were bad from the start, and there were numerous killings on both sides. The Protectorate of British New Guinea became Australian territory by the passing of the Papua Act of 1905 by the Commonwealth Government of Australia. The new administration adopted a policy of peaceful penetration, and many measures of social and economic national development were introduced. Local control was in the hands of village constables, paid servants of the Crown. Chosen by European officers, they were intermediaries between the government and the people. In 1951 an eruption occurred on Mount Lamington, completely devastating a large part of the area occupied by the Orokaiva.’ ^[6] [Constables received training from colonial authorities. As to local bureaucrats, it is not quite clear how extensively they were examined, in the early days. It may not have been a formal, standard examination with set questions but something more of an interview. This remains in need of further confirmation. The Papua Annual Reports, other reports by J.H.P. Murray (possibly a special reivew of the administration for the government in Canberra around 1920 or 1922) or his letters or biography by Francis West may provide more information on this. While there was some training, it was limited (i.e., mostly "on the job") until after WWII, when the Australian School of Pacific Adminsitration (ASOPA) was formed. An attempt that was made In the 1920s to start a formal training course in Sydney for administrative officers ("patrol officers", also called "kiaps") who were bound for Papua. How long the course continued remains in need of confirmation.] Constables were promoted based on merit, but systematic formal examination seems to have been rare overall for native officials: ’Some idea of the education level reached after the completion of the six months training at the depot in Papua is revealed by Corporal Garuwa’s examination paper (figure 4). Two lance-corporals vied for promotion to the rank of corporal in the Papuan Armed Constabulary in 1932. As both men had given meritorious service to the force, an examination was conducted to decide the one most eligible for the promotion. Corporal Garuwa made only one mistake and was promoted.’ ^[7] There may have been more standardization for colonial officials. We have provisionally assumed little formalization for the promotion system as it applied to native officials. This is open to re-evaluation. [Janice Newton (pers. comm.): On p 25 of my monograph footnote 6, I claim that the first Resident magistrates and their assistants were ‘a motley group of adventurers varying greatly in their concept of humanity and their methods..... They were trained on the job. The Encyclopaedia of Papua and New Guinea Melbourne University Press 1972, p50 has a detailed entry on the evolution of training under ASOPA (Australian School of Pacific Administration) After the Second World War’’ Patrol Officers and Administrators were trained in Mosman Sydney, with a general orientation course followed up by academic training and refresher courses, ‘ acknowledging that expatriates needed special skills to function effectively in non -European environments.’ Jonathan Ritchie (pers. comm.): Do you think they mean the training provided to patrol officers before or after the war? If after, then of course they were trained at ASOPA. Ian Campbell has written about this, I think, in JOURNAL OF Pacific History (The ASOPA Controversy: A Pivot of Australian Policy for Papua and New Guinea, 1945-49 Journal of Pacific History 08/2010; 35(1):83-99. DOI: 10.1080/713682830.]

[1]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 30

[2]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 38

[3]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 57

[4]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 55

[5]: Newton, Janice 1982. “Feasting For Oil Palm”, 66

[6]: Latham, Christopher S.: eHRAF Cultural Summary for the Orokaiva

[7]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My Gun, My Brother: The World of the Papua New Guinea Colonial Police, 1920-1960", 100

The colonial administration initially struggled to extend its reach to the interior: ’Armed clashes and the threat of use of violence were, of course, not effective means of achieving pacification. Government, commerce and the missionaries all used gift-giving as a method of establishing some kind of modus vivendi with the local people. The missionaries were most likely to handle threatening situations by giving goods such as cloth, iron, tobacco, beads and mirrors. They lamented that their Christian message was taken by the people as secondary to their provision of medical aid and goods. The Administration also made some use of the giving of gifts as a placatory technique. MacGregor and Monckton used presents suspended on trees or left on paths to avert trouble. However, in riskier situations, government officers would not hesitate to use firearms (Cecil King 1934:13; Chignell 1911:6, 140, 226; Wetherell 1977:32, 159).’ ^[1] Village constables were installed as intermediaries: ’Village Constables. The suppression by force which had marked the early contact phase gave way to a form of ‘indirect rule’ through the appointment of Village Constables. The earliest Village Constables were the strong, leading men who had confronted the Europeans as warriors. As time passed war leaders were no longer a feature of the society, but patrol reports indicate that by and large Village Constables were influential and effective in the maintenance of law and order. The position of Village Constables was an uncomfortable and interstitial one. They had the difficult task of attempting to juggle the interests of their relatives and exchange partners and of the Administration, so that both sides were reasonably happy most of the time. Between 1907 and 1914 the number of Village Constables in the Northern Division rose from fifty-four to eighty-three, indicating that this system of administration was satisfactory to the Australian authorities. The Village Constables were concerned with enforcing legislation which impinged upon many aspects of daily life: burial of the dead, upkeep of roads, construction of latrines, neatness of houses and so on. Failure to obey these regulations could lead to imprisonment.’ ^[2] ’Patrol reports from 1915 to the 1920s note regular satisfactory reporting by the Village Constables despite variations in the standard of housing, village cleanliness and road maintenance. Occasionally police would have to deal with disobedience against the colonial authority. In some cases the non-compliance stemmed from confusion about changed regulations but at other times the people deliberately avoided their obligations to carry for the government. In 1918 the Koropatan Village Constable enquired if carrying was still to be compulsory. He was probably confused following rumours of new legislation on carrying conditions. In 1919 and 1924 men in the area ran away when requested to carry (Bowden, 423, 6550, G91; Baker, 3995, 6548, G91; Flint, 402, 6549, G91).’ ^[3] ’At the time of the eruption, a certain number of new roles had already become firmly established among Papuans: member of the Royal Papuan Constabulary, Village Constable, Mission Teacher, Medical Orderly, Clerk, Labourer. Post-war government policy aimed at greatly increasing the number and scope of these roles, both by [Page 56] instituting numerous training programmes for the development of skills hitherto unknown to Papuans, and by setting up organisations in which Papuans wield a limited amount of political and administrative responsibility. It suffices, for my present purpose, to enumerate modern roles, performed by Papuans, with which the people of Sivepe came into contact during the year of my field study.’ ^[4] Government Councils later replaced ad hoc administration by individual officials: ’The Government, keen now to develop a prosperous and loyal colony for defence purposes, no longer used coercion in the establishment of cash crops. They strongly encouraged such activity, but in the context of individual plots as anything co-operative or communal smacked of communism (Schwimmer 1969:86). They promoted coffee and cocoa by promising large, individual returns. The new Local Government Councils became the agencies of the Administration to promote land-tenure conversion and the planting of coffee and Malayan rubber on the individual blocks created (Waddell & Krinks 1968:15; Healey 1961:490; Jinks 1968:31, 28; Griffin, Nelson & Firth 1979:123).’ ^[5] The code takes into account the presence of colonial administrators and the recruitment of native men into the military administration. [Janice Newton (pers. comm.): On p 25 of my monograph footnote 6, I claim that the first Resident magistrates and their assistants were ‘a motley group of adventurers varying greatly in their concept of humanity and their methods..... They were trained on the job. The Encyclopaedia of Papua and New Guinea Melbourne University Press 1972, p50 has a detailed entry on the evolution of training under ASOPA (Australian School of Pacific Administration) After the Second World War’’ Patrol Officers and Administrators were trained in Mosman Sydney, with a general orientation course followed up by academic training and refresher courses, ‘ acknowledging that expatriates needed special skills to function effectively in non -European environments.’ Jonathan Ritchie (pers. comm.): Do you think they mean the training provided to patrol officers before or after the war? If after, then of course they were trained at ASOPA. Ian Campbell has written about this, I think, in JOURNAL OF Pacific History (The ASOPA Controversy: A Pivot of Australian Policy for Papua and New Guinea, 1945-49 Journal of Pacific History 08/2010; 35(1):83-99. DOI: 10.1080/713682830.]

[1]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 30

[2]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 38

[3]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 57

[4]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 55

[5]: Newton, Janice 1982. “Feasting For Oil Palm”, 66

The colonial administration initially struggled to extend its reach to the interior: ’Armed clashes and the threat of use of violence were, of course, not effective means of achieving pacification. Government, commerce and the missionaries all used gift-giving as a method of establishing some kind of modus vivendi with the local people. The missionaries were most likely to handle threatening situations by giving goods such as cloth, iron, tobacco, beads and mirrors. They lamented that their Christian message was taken by the people as secondary to their provision of medical aid and goods. The Administration also made some use of the giving of gifts as a placatory technique. MacGregor and Monckton used presents suspended on trees or left on paths to avert trouble. However, in riskier situations, government officers would not hesitate to use firearms (Cecil King 1934:13; Chignell 1911:6, 140, 226; Wetherell 1977:32, 159).’ ^[1] Village constables were installed as intermediaries: ’Village Constables. The suppression by force which had marked the early contact phase gave way to a form of ‘indirect rule’ through the appointment of Village Constables. The earliest Village Constables were the strong, leading men who had confronted the Europeans as warriors. As time passed war leaders were no longer a feature of the society, but patrol reports indicate that by and large Village Constables were influential and effective in the maintenance of law and order. The position of Village Constables was an uncomfortable and interstitial one. They had the difficult task of attempting to juggle the interests of their relatives and exchange partners and of the Administration, so that both sides were reasonably happy most of the time. Between 1907 and 1914 the number of Village Constables in the Northern Division rose from fifty-four to eighty-three, indicating that this system of administration was satisfactory to the Australian authorities. The Village Constables were concerned with enforcing legislation which impinged upon many aspects of daily life: burial of the dead, upkeep of roads, construction of latrines, neatness of houses and so on. Failure to obey these regulations could lead to imprisonment.’ ^[2] ’Patrol reports from 1915 to the 1920s note regular satisfactory reporting by the Village Constables despite variations in the standard of housing, village cleanliness and road maintenance. Occasionally police would have to deal with disobedience against the colonial authority. In some cases the non-compliance stemmed from confusion about changed regulations but at other times the people deliberately avoided their obligations to carry for the government. In 1918 the Koropatan Village Constable enquired if carrying was still to be compulsory. He was probably confused following rumours of new legislation on carrying conditions. In 1919 and 1924 men in the area ran away when requested to carry (Bowden, 423, 6550, G91; Baker, 3995, 6548, G91; Flint, 402, 6549, G91).’ ^[3] ’At the time of the eruption, a certain number of new roles had already become firmly established among Papuans: member of the Royal Papuan Constabulary, Village Constable, Mission Teacher, Medical Orderly, Clerk, Labourer. Post-war government policy aimed at greatly increasing the number and scope of these roles, both by [Page 56] instituting numerous training programmes for the development of skills hitherto unknown to Papuans, and by setting up organisations in which Papuans wield a limited amount of political and administrative responsibility. It suffices, for my present purpose, to enumerate modern roles, performed by Papuans, with which the people of Sivepe came into contact during the year of my field study.’ ^[4] Government Councils later replaced ad hoc administration by individual officials: ’The Government, keen now to develop a prosperous and loyal colony for defence purposes, no longer used coercion in the establishment of cash crops. They strongly encouraged such activity, but in the context of individual plots as anything co-operative or communal smacked of communism (Schwimmer 1969:86). They promoted coffee and cocoa by promising large, individual returns. The new Local Government Councils became the agencies of the Administration to promote land-tenure conversion and the planting of coffee and Malayan rubber on the individual blocks created (Waddell & Krinks 1968:15; Healey 1961:490; Jinks 1968:31, 28; Griffin, Nelson & Firth 1979:123).’ ^[5] Village Constables were paid by the colonial administration: ’In response to Australian pressure, the British government annexed Papua in 1888. Gold was discovered shortly thereafter, resulting in a major movement of prospectors and miners to what was then the Northern District. Relations with the Papuans were bad from the start, and there were numerous killings on both sides. The Protectorate of British New Guinea became Australian territory by the passing of the Papua Act of 1905 by the Commonwealth Government of Australia. The new administration adopted a policy of peaceful penetration, and many measures of social and economic national development were introduced. Local control was in the hands of village constables, paid servants of the Crown. Chosen by European officers, they were intermediaries between the government and the people. In 1951 an eruption occurred on Mount Lamington, completely devastating a large part of the area occupied by the Orokaiva.’ ^[6] [Constables received training from colonial authorities. As to local bureaucrats, it is not quite clear how extensively they were examined, in the early days. It may not have been a formal, standard examination with set questions but something more of an interview. This remains in need of further confirmation. The Papua Annual Reports, other reports by J.H.P. Murray (possibly a special reivew of the administration for the government in Canberra around 1920 or 1922) or his letters or biography by Francis West may provide more information on this. While there was some training, it was limited (i.e., mostly "on the job") until after WWII, when the Australian School of Pacific Adminsitration (ASOPA) was formed. An attempt that was made In the 1920s to start a formal training course in Sydney for administrative officers ("patrol officers", also called "kiaps") who were bound for Papua. How long the course continued remains in need of confirmation.] Training for constables was largely physical and based on military-style drills. Formal examination seems to have been rare for constables during this time period, although the process may have been more formalized for colonial officials: ’Some idea of the education level reached after the completion of the six months training at the depot in Papua is revealed by Corporal Garuwa’s examination paper (figure 4). Two lance-corporals vied for promotion to the rank of corporal in the Papuan Armed Constabulary in 1932. As both men had given meritorious service to the force, an examination was conducted to decide the one most eligible for the promotion. Corporal Garuwa made only one mistake and was promoted.’ ^[7] We have therefore assumed no standardized examination for native officials. Kituai’s comments seem to confirm this: ’Records in the annual reports for both administrative centers for the period before World War II did not always summarize what constituted proper training for the police force, but they frequently provided statistics on recruitment and distribution after training.’ ^[8] [Janice Newton (pers. comm.): On p 25 of my monograph footnote 6, I claim that the first Resident magistrates and their assistants were ‘a motley group of adventurers varying greatly in their concept of humanity and their methods..... They were trained on the job. The Encyclopaedia of Papua and New Guinea Melbourne University Press 1972, p50 has a detailed entry on the evolution of training under ASOPA (Australian School of Pacific Administration) After the Second World War’’ Patrol Officers and Administrators were trained in Mosman Sydney, with a general orientation course followed up by academic training and refresher courses, ‘ acknowledging that expatriates needed special skills to function effectively in non -European environments.’ Jonathan Ritchie (pers. comm.): Do you think they mean the training provided to patrol officers before or after the war? If after, then of course they were trained at ASOPA. Ian Campbell has written about this, I think, in JOURNAL OF Pacific History (The ASOPA Controversy: A Pivot of Australian Policy for Papua and New Guinea, 1945-49 Journal of Pacific History 08/2010; 35(1):83-99. DOI: 10.1080/713682830.]

[1]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 30

[2]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 38

[3]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 57

[4]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 55

[5]: Newton, Janice 1982. “Feasting For Oil Palm”, 66

[6]: Latham, Christopher S.: eHRAF Cultural Summary for the Orokaiva

[7]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My Gun, My Brother: The World of the Papua New Guinea Colonial Police, 1920-1960", 100

[8]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My Gun, My Brother: The World of the Papua New Guinea Colonial Police, 1920-1960", 103

The sources reviewed make no mention of lawyers and other professional advocates.

SCCS variable 89 ’Judiciary’ is coded as ‘1’ or ’absent’. Village procedure was informal: ’For those who remain in the village, the sanctioning mechanisms are mostly informal. Failure in one’s obligations means loss of status, leads to gossip, derogatory remarks to one’s face, perhaps even a harangue at night by a man at the other end in the village. The councillor, the court and the police are only a last resort in serious quarrels. I saw a councillor enter a dispute once, playing a mediating role between disputants from two villages, but without playing more than an advisory role. One quarrel was taken to court, but this was not a case where traditional mechanisms of social control had failed. A woman accused her husband of adultery with one of the new Garombi arrivals. She and the husband fought and had to be separated as the lady had an axe; the domestic dispute soon died down but the Garombi woman laid a complaint for slander with the police. Before this came to court, the wife had been roundly condemned by almost everyone in the village; she had repented, had gone round the village to signify her regrets, and been as contrite as her pride could possibly allow her to be. The court let her off with a reprimand. The episode, far from suggesting a flagging of Orokaiva traditional social control, had demonstrated to me that it was still effective. Nonetheless, the Orokaiva, as so many other peoples in contact with Western civilisation, have been quick to see the advantages of a judicial system providing an impartial arbiter in disputes, to whose decisions both parties will defer. At the moment, this western judicial system is an additional resource of Orokaiva law, without undermining its existing institutions.’ ^[1] ’There is no judicial procedure among the Orokaiva, and no ‘police force’. In so far as sorcery is concerned, by the way, these deficiencies are perhaps not altogether deplorable. The suspicion of sorcery, where it is backed up by ignorant legal authority, may go to extraordinary lengths of oppression. No Papuan people has reached that stage of legal development which would have made possible such condemnations as those of West Africa’ ^[2] The Constabulary did not have judicial powers and mostly filled the role of law enforcement: ’Village Constables. The suppression by force which had marked the early contact phase gave way to a form of ‘indirect rule’ through the appointment of Village Constables. The earliest Village Constables were the strong, leading men who had confronted the Europeans as warriors. As time passed war leaders were no longer a feature of the society, but patrol reports indicate that by and large Village Constables were influential and effective in the maintenance of law and order. The position of Village Constables was an uncomfortable and interstitial one. They had the difficult task of attempting to juggle the interests of their relatives and exchange partners and of the Administration, so that both sides were reasonably happy most of the time. Between 1907 and 1914 the number of Village Constables in the Northern Division rose from fifty-four to eighty-three, indicating that this system of administration was satisfactory to the Australian authorities. The Village Constables were concerned with enforcing legislation which impinged upon many aspects of daily life: burial of the dead, upkeep of roads, construction of latrines, neatness of houses and so on. Failure to obey these regulations could lead to imprisonment.’ ^[3] The colonial authorities established prisons: ’Part of the setting up of a governmental organization was the establishment of gaols and the punishment of villagers who infringed the laws and regulations. By 1903, 100 Orokaivans had been committed for trial on charges ranging from murder to breach of school regulations. Kokoda gaol alone had seventy-nine prisoners in 1905 and 168 in 1906. Speaking of one of the groups who inhabited Northern Division, Wetherell observes that this time they had ‘brushed with a tribe they could never conquer’’ ^[4] Colonial magistrates fulfilled both executive and judicial roles rather than being full-time judges (see below).

[1]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 182p

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar) 1928. “Orokaiva Magic”, 224

[3]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 38

[4]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 32p

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’ Local law was informal: ’There is a word igege (Binandele yege) which may be translated ‘moral law’, or perhaps, since the examples are all negative, ‘moral prohibition’. The examples were such as the following: not to steal a man’s vegetables, canoes, spears, &c.; not to usurp his fishing rights; not to take his dog to hunt, but to drive it back if it followed the hunter of its own accord; not to commit adultery; not to beat one’s wife overmuch; not to commit assault on another man. These igege were for adults; they did not apply to children, who had to be treated with so much indulgence; still less to dogs, whose nature it was to steal on sight. While not implying standardization, the mere existence of the word hints at a definite conception of right and wrong.’ ^[1] ’For those who remain in the village, the sanctioning mechanisms are mostly informal. Failure in one’s obligations means loss of status, leads to gossip, derogatory remarks to one’s face, perhaps even a harangue at night by a man at the other end in the village. The councillor, the court and the police are only a last resort in serious quarrels. I saw a councillor enter a dispute once, playing a mediating role between disputants from two villages, but without playing more than an advisory role. One quarrel was taken to court, but this was not a case where traditional mechanisms of social control had failed. A woman accused her husband of adultery with one of the new Garombi arrivals. She and the husband fought and had to be separated as the lady had an axe; the domestic dispute soon died down but the Garombi woman laid a complaint for slander with the police. Before this came to court, the wife had been roundly condemned by almost everyone in the village; she had repented, had gone round the village to signify her regrets, and been as contrite as her pride could possibly allow her to be. The court let her off with a reprimand. The episode, far from suggesting a flagging of Orokaiva traditional social control, had demonstrated to me that it was still effective. Nonetheless, the Orokaiva, as so many other peoples in contact with Western civilisation, have been quick to see the advantages of a judicial system providing an impartial arbiter in disputes, to whose decisions both parties will defer. At the moment, this western judicial system is an additional resource of Orokaiva law, without undermining its existing institutions.’ ^[2] But legal codes were introduced by the colonial authorities: ’When the Papuan Act was passed in 1905 by the Australian Commonwealth Parliament, it provided a legal framework for the Australian Administration in the whole of the Territory, of which Northern Division was a part. Ordinances whose provisions had a particular relevance for Northern Division were those that imposed a tax and made cash cropping, carrying and roadbuilding compulsory.’ ^[3] ’Part of the setting up of a governmental organization was the establishment of gaols and the punishment of villagers who infringed the laws and regulations. By 1903, 100 Orokaivans had been committed for trial on charges ranging from murder to breach of school regulations. Kokoda gaol alone had seventy-nine prisoners in 1905 and 168 in 1906. Speaking of one of the groups who inhabited Northern Division, Wetherell observes that this time they had ‘brushed with a tribe they could never conquer’’ ^[4] As indicated, native villagers were subject to legal codes established by the colonial authorities and tried according to them.

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, 323

[2]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 182p

[3]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change", 34

[4]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 32p

During the colonial period, foreign legal institutions became more relevant, with colonial magistrates fulfilling executive and judicial roles: ’Cases of imputed sorcery often come before the magistrate, but not a few of them, I believe, have to be dismissed as unproven. Some of these are deliberately trumped up, but many more are the outcome of mere groundless suspicion. It is probably true, moreover, that but a small proportion of the ‘cases’ are ever referred to the magistrate, for unless the evidence is very strong the native feels there is little hope of securing an indictment. Sorcery and magic, indeed, are often regarded as something a little beyond the ken of the matter-of-fact white man.’ ^[1] Courts were of colonial origin: ’The term pure ari is appropriate to describe the white man’s labour if for no other reason than that a ‘job’ just like the pure is a place where one spends the day. The new dispensation has, sure enough, its own conflict (isoro) and mode of conflict resolution. Councillor-Colin brings this out by his example of the policeman who puts village men into handcuffs and takes them off to court. In such a case it was the task of the sorcerer to ensure that the men would escape conviction and be set free again.’ ^[2] Institutions remained informal on the village level: ’For those who remain in the village, the sanctioning mechanisms are mostly informal. Failure in one’s obligations means loss of status, leads to gossip, derogatory remarks to one’s face, perhaps even a harangue at night by a man at the other end in the village. The councillor, the court and the police are only a last resort in serious quarrels. I saw a councillor enter a dispute once, playing a mediating role between disputants from two villages, but without playing more than an advisory role. One quarrel was taken to court, but this was not a case where traditional mechanisms of social control had failed. A woman accused her husband of adultery with one of the new Garombi arrivals. She and the husband fought and had to be separated as the lady had an axe; the domestic dispute soon died down but the Garombi woman laid a complaint for slander with the police. Before this came to court, the wife had been roundly condemned by almost everyone in the village; she had repented, had gone round the village to signify her regrets, and been as contrite as her pride could possibly allow her to be. The court let her off with a reprimand. The episode, far from suggesting a flagging of Orokaiva traditional social control, had demonstrated to me that it was still effective. Nonetheless, the Orokaiva, as so many other peoples in contact with Western civilisation, have been quick to see the advantages of a judicial system providing an impartial arbiter in disputes, to whose decisions both parties will defer. At the moment, this western judicial system is an additional resource of Orokaiva law, without undermining its existing institutions.’ ^[3] No native courts were introduced by the British and Australian administrations: ’It will be seen, from what I have said, that this book offers a many-sided attraction, but to an administrator the most interesting part is the last chapter. For in that chapter Mr. Williams deals with a phenomenon which has always appeared to me to be very difficult to understand, though it is common enough in Papua, and that is the well-ordered regulation of a peaceful society with apparently no government and no administration of justice to support it. There are no chiefs with any authority worth talking about among the Orokaiva, and the same is true of nearly the whole of Papua, and there are no Courts and no recognized method of enforcing native law or custom, and yet within the community, within what Mr. Williams calls the ‘sympathy group’, life is probably as peaceful and as orderly as it is with us. How this result can be obtained in the absence of any objective sanction is one of the puzzles of native administration.’ ^[4] Native offenders were tried by colonial courts instead.

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar) 1928. “Orokaiva Magic”, 215p

[2]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1979. “Self And The Product: Concepts Of Work In Comparative Perspective”, 303

[3]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 182p

[4]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, xxiip

The foreign authorities established colonial settlements (see above), enabling trading relations with the Orokaiva population: ’European contact was to alter radically two major facets of pre-contact Orokaivan life. Forced pacification and compulsory labour would inhibit the scope of feasting and fighting. It would also open the path for the more regular association of different clans and tribes in the context of voluntary market exchange and government carrying and road work. This wider, peaceful association would modify the narrow moral universe. This was also to be challenged by the introduced missionaries, who would call on people to love all fellow humans.’ ^[1] [Even in colonial settlements, services were of a makeshift character.] Given the introduction of cash-cropping, we have assumed that Orokaiva farmers visited colonial markets occasionally.

[1]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 24

The Orokaiva practiced no irrigation: ’Very full data on the size of these gardens have been provided by Crocombe and Hogbin (1963) and Rimoldi (1966). A household tends to establish something like one and a half to two acres of garden per year. A garden is never used for more than one taro season, but as planting and consumption of the taro each tend to be stretched over most of a year, almost two years elapse between the clearing and final abandonment. This gives time for the bananas and sugar-cane to reach maturity too. Once a garden is abandoned, it is not used again for at least eight years or so. The usual swidden agriculture techniques are used, burning, clearing, careful removal of ‘rubbish’ remaining after the burning process, planting with a digging stick, periodic attention to weeding and heaping up of earth around growing taro, removal of corm-bearing bases of petioles of mature taro for removal and planting in a new garden. The Orokaiva practise no irrigation, no form of terracing or drainage, no manuring, no measures against parasites. Sometimes a fence is made out of tree trunks to keep pigs from breaking in. This is usually done only after a pig has made its first expedition, and only on the side where the pig entered.’ ^[1] [Even in colonial settlements, services were of a makeshift character.]

[1]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1973. “Exchange In The Social Structure Of The Orokaiva: Traditional And Emergent Ideologies In The Northern District Of Papua”, 20

According to SCCS variable 20 ’Food Storage’ ’Individual households’, not ’Communal facilities’, ’Political agent controlled repositories’, or ’Economic agent controlled repositories’ were present, coded in the SCCS as ‘2’. Roots and tubers were stored in yam-houses. [Ira Baschkow (pers. comm.): These were the property of individuals, usually men (though in some respects it might be more accurate to call them the property of married couple or households). Some yam houses had internal divisions such that the yams in different areas belonged to different persons, who were invariably related. Janice Newton (pers. comm.): By the 1970s there were no communal yam houses where I worked and display shelters of food were mainly of taro and bananas for special occasions such as end of mourning or puberty ceremonies.] ’While time devoted to taro cultivation always exceeds that of the other two crops, harvesting falls off markedly during the dry season. In contrast, the time devoted to the harvesting of sweet potato increases steadily through the survey, while that of yams is confined almost entirely to the wet season when large quantities are stored in specially constructed yam houses (or occasionally in holes in the ground).’ ^[1] ’The storing of yams is in the harau or yam-houses, seen commonly in many of the southern villages of the division. The harau usually takes the form of a small platform sheltered by a gabled roof in which there is a sort of attic. The platform is simply a place of social intercourse; the attic is the storehouse for yams. It is closed at either end, and thus dry and dark. When the yams are sprouting it is time for replanting.’ ^[2] ’A mere roofless platform is sometimes to be seen as a place of social intercourse. Among the southern tribes it is more usually combined with the picturesque little harau or yam-house, in which a small attic compartment above is the repository for the sprouting yams.’ ^[3] Other crops were accumulated for feasts: ’The fact that there is never real famine and that scarcity is a rare thing, brings about an attitude of mind which we might call improvidence. Yams are stored where they are grown; so also are Tauga nuts and Puga. But the two former are not common except in the south of the Division. Beyond these, and of course the coconut, the native puts by no vegetable food. When a feast is preparing, the taro will be gathered in great quantities and stacked on platforms. Some is eaten at the feast, some distributed with a great display of cordiality to the guests, who take it home. There is no method of preserving taro, and sometimes, when a feast is for any reason delayed, a great deal of food may deteriorate and become inedible.’ ^[4] ’Coco-nuts are accumulated, under strict taboo, for a feast. The huge coco-nut-laden tripod in the centre of the village, or the long lines of dry nuts on the ground, indicate that there is some entertainment pending towards which all the villagers will contribute. Sometimes one may see the tragedy of a feast over-long delayed and the nuts sprouting head high, too far gone to eat and perhaps too far gone to plant.’ ^[2] [The yams stored in yam houses were distinctly not constructed for the purpose of communal feasts only, but for feasts as well as general consumption. It was (and still is) usual for Orokaiva to plant special garden plots whose produce is earmarked for consumption or distribution at communal feasts, but the main crop for that is taro, and usually the food is stored, basically, in the ground (it is left to continue "hardening" or "ripening" in the unharvested garden) until just several days before the feast will be held. There may be some regional variation involved, though.]

[1]: Waddell, Eric, and P. A. Krinks 1968. “Organisation Of Production And Distribution Among The Orokaiva: An Analysis Of Work And Exchange In Two Communities Participating In Both The Subsistence And Monetary Sectors Of The Economy”, 83

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar) 1928. “Orokaiva Magic”, 145

[3]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, 70

[4]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar) 1928. “Orokaiva Magic”, 144

The absence of irrigation systems suggests that drinking water was collected from streams nearby rather than supply systems: ’Very full data on the size of these gardens have been provided by Crocombe and Hogbin (1963) and Rimoldi (1966). A household tends to establish something like one and a half to two acres of garden per year. A garden is never used for more than one taro season, but as planting and consumption of the taro each tend to be stretched over most of a year, almost two years elapse between the clearing and final abandonment. This gives time for the bananas and sugar-cane to reach maturity too. Once a garden is abandoned, it is not used again for at least eight years or so. The usual swidden agriculture techniques are used, burning, clearing, careful removal of ‘rubbish’ remaining after the burning process, planting with a digging stick, periodic attention to weeding and heaping up of earth around growing taro, removal of corm-bearing bases of petioles of mature taro for removal and planting in a new garden. The Orokaiva practise no irrigation, no form of terracing or drainage, no manuring, no measures against parasites. Sometimes a fence is made out of tree trunks to keep pigs from breaking in. This is usually done only after a pig has made its first expedition, and only on the side where the pig entered.’ ^[1] [Even in colonial settlements, services were of a makeshift character.]

[1]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1973. “Exchange In The Social Structure Of The Orokaiva: Traditional And Emergent Ideologies In The Northern District Of Papua”, 20

According to SCCS variable 14 ’Routes of Land Transport’ only ‘1’ or ’unimproved trails’ were used for land transport, not roads. The Orokaiva intially relied on trails: ’(a) As an Identity Token. So far I have not mentioned the uses of the plant emblem. If one asks a native what he actually does with his heratu, he will assuredly answer: ‘I place it on the track so that others who may follow may know I have passed that way.’ This, indeed, though not the only use for the heratu, is the commonest. At the juncture of two paths I have come upon eight different kinds of leaves or grass, placed there during the morning and as yet scarcely wilted. My boys, who were inhabitants of the district, were able to identify each clan by its heratu; the owners of them had passed this spot at intervals, all bound for one village as guests to a feast and dance. The stem of the leaf, the root of the grass, or the butt of the branch, should point in the direction which its owner has taken, but apparently this rule is not observed with strictness.’ ^[1] But the colonial authorities carried out a compulsory roadbuilding scheme, conscripting native labour: ’When the Papuan Act was passed in 1905 by the Australian Commonwealth Parliament, it provided a legal framework for the Australian Administration in the whole of the Territory, of which Northern Division was a part. Ordinances whose provisions had a particular relevance for Northern Division were those that imposed a tax and made cash cropping, carrying and roadbuilding compulsory.’ ^[2] [Even in colonial settlements, services were of a makeshift character.]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, 115

[2]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change", 34

According to SCCS variable 14 ’Routes of Land Transport’ only ‘1’ or ’unimproved trails’ were used for land transport, not roads. The colonial powers built forts and coastal towns, which were raided by the Japanese during World War II: ’In December 1941 the Japanese entered World War II when they bombed Pearl Harbor. In January 1942 they captured Rabaul and the next month they attacked Port Moresby from the air. The battle of the Coral Sea in May thwarted a sea invasion, so the Japanese attempted a land invasion of Port Moresby. In July 1942 they landed between Buna and Gona on the Northern Division coast (Robinson 1979:12). Individual battles such as those on the Kokoda Trail, which became part of the Australian national mythology, have merged in the minds of Papua New Guinean villagers. [Page 43] However, the war has become a most important division in contact history, marking the beginning of a new era.’ ^[1] [Even in colonial settlements, services were of a makeshift character.] We have provisionally assumed that natives had little access to these ports.

[1]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 42

According to SCCS variable 14 ’Routes of Land Transport’ only ‘1’ or ’unimproved trails’ were used for land transport, not roads.

According to SCCS variable 14 ’Routes of Land Transport’ only ‘1’ or ’unimproved trails’ were used for land transport, not roads. The Orokaiva constructed wooden bridges or gangways: ’Bridges. Formerly, I am told, stretches of swamp were spanned by single logs supported on cross-trestles. The modern type of this bridge has an adzed surface to make walking safer, and is certainly preferable to the other style (viz. a raised gangway with clumsily laid cross-pieces) until, as is so often the case, the log is found to be slippery and aslant. Small creeks are crossed by single tree-trunks, over which the native, a fearless balancer, walks without misgiving, despite the queer and disconcerting vibrations set up by his footsteps on a long log.’ ^[1] By the time of the Mt. Lamington eruption, the colonial authorities had built bridges for its own infrastructural needs: ’When the volcano erupted on 21 January 1951, Koropatans noticed the dark smoke and cloud and saw ash and stones carried through the air. The survivors including the sick moved to Wairope on the Kumusi bridge. A married couple from Koropata, Stephenson Kareka and Flora Amaupa, evoked the scene: ‘There was no water and no food as both had been spoiled by the lava and ash. The government supplied food. They flew in rice and fish. The people stayed at Wairope for three months. After that time, Bishop David Hand sent the people back to the villages as the volcano had finished …’’ ^[2] [Even in colonial settlements, services were of a makeshift character.]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, 72

[2]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 59

The colonial authorities organized mining operations with a focus on precious metals: ’In response to Australian pressure, the British government annexed Papua in 1888. Gold was discovered shortly thereafter, resulting in a major movement of prospectors and miners to what was then the Northern District. Relations with the Papuans were bad from the start, and there were numerous killings on both sides. The Protectorate of British New Guinea became Australian territory by the passing of the Papua Act of 1905 by the Commonwealth Government of Australia. The new administration adopted a policy of peaceful penetration, and many measures of social and economic national development were introduced. Local control was in the hands of village constables, paid servants of the Crown. Chosen by European officers, they were intermediaries between the government and the people. In 1951 an eruption occurred on Mount Lamington, completely devastating a large part of the area occupied by the Orokaiva.’ ^[1] Orokaiva men were recruited for labour in the mines: ’None of the cash crop or natural resource industries developed in the Division had fulfilled expectations. Nevertheless, the mining industry had survived, the number of plantations continued to grow and the resident European population increased. All of these factors influenced the working habits of the Orokaivans, in spite of the fact that they still controlled the bulk of their village land. A considerable number of Orokaivan men went to work on plantations, in mines and in European houses. In 1924 a Resident Magistrate commented that a large number of the male population had already worked on plantations or in stores, or had been members of the police force (see Table 2.4 and Flint 1926:44).’ ^[2]

[1]: Latham, Christopher S.: eHRAf Cultural Summary for the Orokaiva

[2]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 38

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’ Written records were introduced by colonial authorities and missions, but Schwimmer’s later material suggests a significant time-lag in the spread of literacy: ’For the rest, the skills acquired by Orokaiva over the last 15 years are largely concerned not directly with village development but rather with an increase of understanding of the world outside. While before the war, only a small minority had school education, the Anglican Mission spread its operations to several new stations, including Sasembata, after the war. After the eruption, the scope of education was again greatly extended and it could be said that the eruption marked the beginning of universal school education in the majority of Orokaiva villages. The Sasembata station began to draw virtually the entire child population of the surrounding villages, and most students now follow a five or six year course. While this development had been planned ever since the war, it may be significant that regular school attendance of all the villages in the district was experienced for the first time at Ilimo, where a school was conducted for the whole evacuee child population, and adult classes as well. It is the objective of present school programmes, as far as I can see, to make the population literate and the increase of literacy is a major aspect of acculturation over the period. Literacy has certainly progressed to a point where letters written in Orokaiva to any family in Sivepe can be read and understood with the help of at least a junior member of the family; and can be replied to. While I could see no evidence that people have acquired mathematical knowledge of any sophistication, I was struck by a strong quantitative orientation. In the Orokaiva language, there are no numerals higher than 2; hence, it is the invariable practise to use English numerals when speaking the Orokaiva language. The numerals are, in fact, among the main English linquistic features that have been borrowed. They are used with remarkable frequency; the number of coffee trees, the value in pounds of trade goods included in a bride price, the calculation of money prices, even the number of brothers or men who together played some role in a mythological tale (a distinctly contemporary touch, this)-all these phenomena show that “numbers” have become an integral part of Orokaiva culture. The Orokaiva use the English word “number” for a variety of quantitative concepts, including price. Finally, one must regard as an aspect of acculturation, the introduction of many [Page 80] concepts drawn from the scene of world affairs. While among the Orokaiva, I heard talk about Vietnam, Indonesia, Africa, India. The political orientation displayed was a mild kind of nationalism, and a sense of closeness to newly independent non-white states. But the information, derived from radio broadcasts and speeches by councillors, introduced an acculturative kind of perspective. Its dissemination is being actively encouraged by the Australian authorities.’ ^[1]

[1]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 79

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’ Written records were introduced by colonial authorities and missions, but Schwimmer’s later material suggests a significant time-lag in the spread of literacy: ’For the rest, the skills acquired by Orokaiva over the last 15 years are largely concerned not directly with village development but rather with an increase of understanding of the world outside. While before the war, only a small minority had school education, the Anglican Mission spread its operations to several new stations, including Sasembata, after the war. After the eruption, the scope of education was again greatly extended and it could be said that the eruption marked the beginning of universal school education in the majority of Orokaiva villages. The Sasembata station began to draw virtually the entire child population of the surrounding villages, and most students now follow a five or six year course. While this development had been planned ever since the war, it may be significant that regular school attendance of all the villages in the district was experienced for the first time at Ilimo, where a school was conducted for the whole evacuee child population, and adult classes as well. It is the objective of present school programmes, as far as I can see, to make the population literate and the increase of literacy is a major aspect of acculturation over the period. Literacy has certainly progressed to a point where letters written in Orokaiva to any family in Sivepe can be read and understood with the help of at least a junior member of the family; and can be replied to. While I could see no evidence that people have acquired mathematical knowledge of any sophistication, I was struck by a strong quantitative orientation. In the Orokaiva language, there are no numerals higher than 2; hence, it is the invariable practise to use English numerals when speaking the Orokaiva language. The numerals are, in fact, among the main English linquistic features that have been borrowed. They are used with remarkable frequency; the number of coffee trees, the value in pounds of trade goods included in a bride price, the calculation of money prices, even the number of brothers or men who together played some role in a mythological tale (a distinctly contemporary touch, this)-all these phenomena show that “numbers” have become an integral part of Orokaiva culture. The Orokaiva use the English word “number” for a variety of quantitative concepts, including price. Finally, one must regard as an aspect of acculturation, the introduction of many [Page 80] concepts drawn from the scene of world affairs. While among the Orokaiva, I heard talk about Vietnam, Indonesia, Africa, India. The political orientation displayed was a mild kind of nationalism, and a sense of closeness to newly independent non-white states. But the information, derived from radio broadcasts and speeches by councillors, introduced an acculturative kind of perspective. Its dissemination is being actively encouraged by the Australian authorities.’ ^[1]

[1]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 79

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’ Written records were introduced by colonial authorities and missions, but Schwimmer’s later material suggests a significant time-lag in the spread of literacy: ’For the rest, the skills acquired by Orokaiva over the last 15 years are largely concerned not directly with village development but rather with an increase of understanding of the world outside. While before the war, only a small minority had school education, the Anglican Mission spread its operations to several new stations, including Sasembata, after the war. After the eruption, the scope of education was again greatly extended and it could be said that the eruption marked the beginning of universal school education in the majority of Orokaiva villages. The Sasembata station began to draw virtually the entire child population of the surrounding villages, and most students now follow a five or six year course. While this development had been planned ever since the war, it may be significant that regular school attendance of all the villages in the district was experienced for the first time at Ilimo, where a school was conducted for the whole evacuee child population, and adult classes as well. It is the objective of present school programmes, as far as I can see, to make the population literate and the increase of literacy is a major aspect of acculturation over the period. Literacy has certainly progressed to a point where letters written in Orokaiva to any family in Sivepe can be read and understood with the help of at least a junior member of the family; and can be replied to. While I could see no evidence that people have acquired mathematical knowledge of any sophistication, I was struck by a strong quantitative orientation. In the Orokaiva language, there are no numerals higher than 2; hence, it is the invariable practise to use English numerals when speaking the Orokaiva language. The numerals are, in fact, among the main English linquistic features that have been borrowed. They are used with remarkable frequency; the number of coffee trees, the value in pounds of trade goods included in a bride price, the calculation of money prices, even the number of brothers or men who together played some role in a mythological tale (a distinctly contemporary touch, this)-all these phenomena show that “numbers” have become an integral part of Orokaiva culture. The Orokaiva use the English word “number” for a variety of quantitative concepts, including price. Finally, one must regard as an aspect of acculturation, the introduction of many [Page 80] concepts drawn from the scene of world affairs. While among the Orokaiva, I heard talk about Vietnam, Indonesia, Africa, India. The political orientation displayed was a mild kind of nationalism, and a sense of closeness to newly independent non-white states. But the information, derived from radio broadcasts and speeches by councillors, introduced an acculturative kind of perspective. Its dissemination is being actively encouraged by the Australian authorities.’ ^[1]

[1]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 79

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’ The Orokaive had nonwritten mythical traditions: ’Hunting figures prominently in a widely-known Orokaivan myth concerning the origin of marriage. To become fully married the single men had to become the meat-givers to the single girls who swept, harvested and cooked for them. Brothers showed lineage solidarity and co-operation, and husbands and wives ideally established a balanced exchange of services. Themes such as these reassert themselves in the fishing and hunting activities of the Koropatans today.’ ^[1] ’As in many parts of Melanesia, pigs in Koropata are extremely important for feasts and in some senses they represent or sybmolize human beings. Speaking of the Orokaivan Sivepe people, Schwimmer has noted that a gift of pig meat restores relations after a quarrel, and establishes new social relations. He suggests that pig sacrifice can be seen as communion with primeval ancestral beings (Schwimmer 1973:138-9, 145, 148, 153). In Koropata too the gift of pig meat can be used to emphasize the strength and importance of a particular social relationship. The creation myth told by Koropatans is centred on Totoima, a pig-man figure with long teeth (cf. Schwimmer 1973:55). His death and subsequent division into pieces represents the origin of the different language groups around the Orokaiva area. There are examples of pig-man association in myth, ritual and exchange throughout Melanesia. Societies project humanity on to pigs in contexts as varied as myths and compensation payments (see Modjeska 1977; Meggitt 1974) and in the household situation of raising pigs.’ ^[2]

[1]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 99

[2]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 105

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’ Tokens called heratu served multiple purposes: ’There is another use similar in principle. When a hungry man sees a ripe bunch of bananas in the garden of his friend he will not hesitate to help himself. It is to be feared that he would not hesitate over long if he met-the same temptation in the garden of a stranger. In the first instance, however, he will eat his fill of the bananas, or whatever it may be, and leave his heratu. When the owner comes to his garden and sees this, he will be satisfied, for no native grudges food to his friend.’ ^[1] ’Of the three main uses of the heratu previously described, viz. (1) as an identity token, (2) as a mark of individual abstinence, (3) as the naterari, or village tabu post, the last will seem tolerably clear. The naterari stands as a symbol of the dead man in whose behalf the tabu is imposed. Formerly it may have been something more than a formal symbol of the dead, in fact a crude image. This association between the wooden post and the dead man which it represents is strengthened by using his particular namesake tree: then, besides other associations, the two have this important bond between them-a common name.’ ^[2] The Constabulary relied on sticks and other ad hoc devices for the purpose of record-keeping: ’The producer’s half of the income from the coffee was paid, not on delivery, but at the end of each year. The official in charge of the scheme visited each village to make the payments. The ordinance required that payment was to be made in proportion to days worked and, as the village constable who was in charge of the plantation was almost invariably illiterate, some of them kept an “attendance stick” for each man. A notch was cut in the stick for each day of absence other than that caused by illness or the death of a close relative. When the government officer visited the village to make the payments the constable produced the attendance stick of each man as he came up for payment. Some constables relied on memory to inform government officers of absentees, but the few literate ones (e. g. at Sombo) were provided with attendance books.’ ^[3]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, 115

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, 125

[3]: Crocombe, R. G. 1964. “Communal Cash Cropping Among The Orokaiva”, 15

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’ The Bible played a prominent role in mission schools: ’Teachers are trained both in the mission and the government system, but the mission system is primarily aimed at training in Bible knowledge, religious doctrine and Christian values. In the early years of the mission any promising pupil, with two or more years of elementary schooling, might be chosen for training as a mission teacher. Certainly he would get some coaching in how to teach school, but the emphasis was above all religious. More recently, a number of courses were set up by government and mission teachers were encouraged to enter for such courses. The A course is open to men with a Standard 6 education and takes one year. The B course is open to men with a Form 2 education and takes two years. The administration insists on an A certificate as a minimum qualification; in the Northern District, new appointees were usually expected to have a B certificate. The mission is less fortunate; in 1966 in the Northern District, only 97 out of 274 mission teachers had either an A or a B certificate. Out of the Sasembata staff of 12, five were trained; out of the Hohota staff of four, one was trained.’ ^[1] By the time of the eruption of Mt. Lamington, some Orokaiva communities were fairly familiar with Biblical themes: ’Certainly, the eruption would be followed by a resolve not to make the harsh power that brought the eruption angry again. Whether this power was primarily identified with God or with Sumbiripa is extremely hard to tell; it is even harder to tell whether these powers were viewed as being entirely distinct. Father Albert’s testimony strongly suggests that the eruption was treated as symbolic of divine wroth as it was presented in the Bible.’ ^[2] But Schwimmer’s other comments (see above) suggest significant time-lags in the spread of literacy.

[1]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 118

[2]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 74

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’ Given the role of missionary schools in the spread of literacy, some religious literature may have been present. Expert feedback on schooling and literacy is needed.

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’ Some native officials may have handled more complex administrative texts than lists. Feedback is needed on the matter.

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’

The Constabulary relied on ad hoc devices rather than written lists when administering government plantations, but there was a literate minority using attendance books: ’The producer’s half of the income from the coffee was paid, not on delivery, but at the end of each year. The official in charge of the scheme visited each village to make the payments. The ordinance required that payment was to be made in proportion to days worked and, as the village constable who was in charge of the plantation was almost invariably illiterate, some of them kept an “attendance stick” for each man. A notch was cut in the stick for each day of absence other than that caused by illness or the death of a close relative. When the government officer visited the village to make the payments the constable produced the attendance stick of each man as he came up for payment. Some constables relied on memory to inform government officers of absentees, but the few literate ones (e. g. at Sombo) were provided with attendance books.’ ^[1]

[1]: Crocombe, R. G. 1964. “Communal Cash Cropping Among The Orokaiva”, 15

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’

SCCS variable 149 ’Writing and Records’ is coded as ‘1’ or ‘None’, not ‘Mnemonic devices’, or ‘Nonwritten records’, or ’True writing, no records’, or ‘True writing; records’

Native time measurements followed the natural cycle: ’The Inonda people refer to the dry season as huvira because the huvira tree (Erythrina indica) flowers at that time. The wet season is divided into a number of periods which are recognized by the ripening of various nuts (especially hauga) and edible pit-pit (ina), and by the flowering of the garepa tree. For instance, the garepa season begins about November or December and lasts for two or three months. These are the wettest months of the year and plant growth is therefore rapid at that time. The pasiro (a variety of pit-pit) ripens about March, which is a time of more moderate rainfall. Food is in abundance at this period, and it is accordingly the most popular season for feasting.’ ^[1] During the colonial period, European calendars were superimposed on the native system: ’In recent years, two further calendars have become superimposed upon the traditional one: that of the Christian festivals and that of the European economy, notably monthly coffee sales from June to December and the payment of Local Government Council tax supposedly in September.’ ^[2] ’The weekly pattern. The Sivepe people speak of Wednesdays as ‘Mission day’ (for work at Sasembata mission station), Fridays as ‘Council day’ (for road maintenance and cleaning the village) and Sundays as a day of rest and attendance at church services. Of the remaining days, Monday and Tuesday are devoted to cash cropping, and Thursday and Saturday to subsistence. They claim to have been directed by the Higaturu Local Government Council to work according to this routine and while it is not strictly adhered to, the concept of the week is firmly implanted in the Orokaiva mind (see Table 6:9).’ ^[3]

[1]: Crocombe, R. G., and G. R. (Geoffrey Robert) Hogbin 1963. “Land, Work, And Productivity At Inonda”, 6

[2]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 26

[3]: Waddell, Eric, and P. A. Krinks 1968. “Organisation Of Production And Distribution Among The Orokaiva: An Analysis Of Work And Exchange In Two Communities Participating In Both The Subsistence And Monetary Sectors Of The Economy”, 106

According to SCCS variable 17 ’Money (Media of Exchange) and Credit’, ‘1’ or ’No media of exchange or money’ was present, not ’Domestically used articles as media of exchange’ or ’Tokens of conventional value as media of exchange’ or ’Foreign coinage or paper coinage’, or ’Indigenous coinage or paper currency’. Shell beads served as tokens of exchange in brideprice negotiations: ’Traditional valuables. The possession of hambo (bone and shell ornaments) and di (feather headdress) may give some indication of a man’s adherence to traditional values. In traditional Orokaiva society the possession of such valuables demonstrated wealth and prowess, but this function is now being taken over by money, as the relative importance of cash as the means of procuring desirable products increases, and money transactions become more frequent. Hambo and di are inherited through the father and sometimes other relatives, and they are usually distributed among the surviving sons. It is difficult to assess the traditional valuables owned by any one individual, as a man often looks after his younger brothers’ shares and more than one person, both within and without the nuclear family, may have rights to the hambo and di kept in a particular household.’ ^[1] ’Traditional bridewealth exchanges in Papua New Guinea invariably incorporated important valuables symbolizing male and female qualities and duties, the linking of two kinship groups or family networks and so on. The modern stress on cash seems almost an obsession. Orokaiva brideprice includes traditional goods such as pigs and taro, and sometimes feather head-dresses and shell necklaces. But it is the cash component which dominates the aggressive demands and which becomes a focus of talk in the village.’ ^[2] ’In the first case this was the exchange between man and woman in making their own contributions and deriving their own benefits in the taro garden - a cycle of exchange which parallels the cultivation cycle of the taro itself. In the second case it was the exchange between clansmen which is complete only when the man who received the brideprice provides recruits for the clan, as well as a steady new affinal alliance. It does not concern me here whether psychologists would, in such cases, accept the exchange breakdown as the real cause of the social breakdown; I have illustrated that the Orokaiva view social breakdowns in this manner.’ ^[3]

[1]: Oostermeyer, W. J., and Joanne Gray 1967. “Twelve Orokaiva Traders”, 35

[2]: Newton, Janice 1989. “Women And Modern Marriage Among The Orokaivans”, 39

[3]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1973. “Exchange In The Social Structure Of The Orokaiva: Traditional And Emergent Ideologies In The Northern District Of Papua”, 50

According to SCCS variable 17 ’Money (Media of Exchange) and Credit’, ‘1’ or ’No media of exchange or money’ was present, not ’Domestically used articles as media of exchange’ or ’Tokens of conventional value as media of exchange’ or ’Foreign coinage or paper coinage’, or ’Indigenous coinage or paper currency’.

According to SCCS variable 17 ’Money (Media of Exchange) and Credit’, ‘1’ or ’No media of exchange or money’ was present, not ’Domestically used articles as media of exchange’ or ’Tokens of conventional value as media of exchange’ or ’Foreign coinage or paper coinage’, or ’Indigenous coinage or paper currency’. Monetary exchange was introduced by the colonial powers: ’By the 1930s many Koropata men had been to gaol for disobeying one or other of the Native Regulations. Tax had been introduced before World War I and the consequent need for money was a powerful impetus for the planting of village cash crops and continued signing on for plantation work. In this decade more Koropatans were recruited to work on Kokoda rubber plantations, thus coming into contact with other Papuans. More of the villagers were becoming familiar with Papuans from other areas. The mission was known only by rumour until 1928 when the Anglicans bought 5 acres at Baravaturu. During the 1930s the more mobile Koropatans became acquainted with a kind of white man whose activities and objectives seemed to differ from those they had previously encountered, the missionary more interested in their beliefs than their labour power (Files 407, Karius in 409, 411; Box 6549, G91).’ ^[1]

[1]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 57

According to SCCS variable 17 ’Money (Media of Exchange) and Credit’, ‘1’ or ’No media of exchange or money’ was present, not ’Domestically used articles as media of exchange’ or ’Tokens of conventional value as media of exchange’ or ’Foreign coinage or paper coinage’, or ’Indigenous coinage or paper currency’.

According to SCCS variable 17 ’Money (Media of Exchange) and Credit’, ‘1’ or ’No media of exchange or money’ was present, not ’Domestically used articles as media of exchange’ or ’Tokens of conventional value as media of exchange’ or ’Foreign coinage or paper coinage’, or ’Indigenous coinage or paper currency’. Monetary exchange was introduced by the colonial powers: ’By the 1930s many Koropata men had been to gaol for disobeying one or other of the Native Regulations. Tax had been introduced before World War I and the consequent need for money was a powerful impetus for the planting of village cash crops and continued signing on for plantation work. In this decade more Koropatans were recruited to work on Kokoda rubber plantations, thus coming into contact with other Papuans. More of the villagers were becoming familiar with Papuans from other areas. The mission was known only by rumour until 1928 when the Anglicans bought 5 acres at Baravaturu. During the 1930s the more mobile Koropatans became acquainted with a kind of white man whose activities and objectives seemed to differ from those they had previously encountered, the missionary more interested in their beliefs than their labour power (Files 407, Karius in 409, 411; Box 6549, G91).’ ^[1]

[1]: Newton, Janice 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change”, 57

According to SCCS variable 17 ’Money (Media of Exchange) and Credit’, ‘1’ or ’No media of exchange or money’ was present, not ’Domestically used articles as media of exchange’ or ’Tokens of conventional value as media of exchange’ or ’Foreign coinage or paper coinage’, or ’Indigenous coinage or paper currency’. Salt was occasionally used as a form of payment: ’Salt. The native shows the usual craving for salt, so that among the inlanders it is useful pay for carriers. Visiting the coast, these inlanders will even take calabashes and bring them home full of sea-water. The only means of obtaining it locally is by burning certain leaves and the husks of coco-nut or Tauga nuts. Over a layer of dry wood are set a number of large pottery fragments, and over these again are piled the leaves and husks. Ignited, the pile smokes abundantly, and when it has burnt away leaves a residue of [Page 65] ash in the pottery fragments. For actual use the ash, which has a salty taste, is placed in a half coco-nut shell and watered; and the salty water percolates through the eyehole of the coco-nut into the cooking-pot.’ ^[1]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, 64

Schwimmer’s material suggests a very late introduction of postal stations: ’For the rest, the skills acquired by Orokaiva over the last 15 years are largely concerned not directly with village development but rather with an increase of understanding of the world outside. While before the war, only a small minority had school education, the Anglican Mission spread its operations to several new stations, including Sasembata, after the war. After the eruption, the scope of education was again greatly extended and it could be said that the eruption marked the beginning of universal school education in the majority of Orokaiva villages. The Sasembata station began to draw virtually the entire child population of the surrounding villages, and most students now follow a five or six year course. While this development had been planned ever since the war, it may be significant that regular school attendance of all the villages in the district was experienced for the first time at Ilimo, where a school was conducted for the whole evacuee child population, and adult classes as well. It is the objective of present school programmes, as far as I can see, to make the population literate and the increase of literacy is a major aspect of acculturation over the period. Literacy has certainly progressed to a point where letters written in Orokaiva to any family in Sivepe can be read and understood with the help of at least a junior member of the family; and can be replied to. While I could see no evidence that people have acquired mathematical knowledge of any sophistication, I was struck by a strong quantitative orientation. In the Orokaiva language, there are no numerals higher than 2; hence, it is the invariable practise to use English numerals when speaking the Orokaiva language. The numerals are, in fact, among the main English linquistic features that have been borrowed. They are used with remarkable frequency; the number of coffee trees, the value in pounds of trade goods included in a bride price, the calculation of money prices, even the number of brothers or men who together played some role in a mythological tale (a distinctly contemporary touch, this)-all these phenomena show that “numbers” have become an integral part of Orokaiva culture. The Orokaiva use the English word “number” for a variety of quantitative concepts, including price. Finally, one must regard as an aspect of acculturation, the introduction of many [Page 80] concepts drawn from the scene of world affairs. While among the Orokaiva, I heard talk about Vietnam, Indonesia, Africa, India. The political orientation displayed was a mild kind of nationalism, and a sense of closeness to newly independent non-white states. But the information, derived from radio broadcasts and speeches by councillors, introduced an acculturative kind of perspective. Its dissemination is being actively encouraged by the Australian authorities.’ ^[1]

[1]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 79

Schwimmer’s material suggests a very late introduction of postal services: ’For the rest, the skills acquired by Orokaiva over the last 15 years are largely concerned not directly with village development but rather with an increase of understanding of the world outside. While before the war, only a small minority had school education, the Anglican Mission spread its operations to several new stations, including Sasembata, after the war. After the eruption, the scope of education was again greatly extended and it could be said that the eruption marked the beginning of universal school education in the majority of Orokaiva villages. The Sasembata station began to draw virtually the entire child population of the surrounding villages, and most students now follow a five or six year course. While this development had been planned ever since the war, it may be significant that regular school attendance of all the villages in the district was experienced for the first time at Ilimo, where a school was conducted for the whole evacuee child population, and adult classes as well. It is the objective of present school programmes, as far as I can see, to make the population literate and the increase of literacy is a major aspect of acculturation over the period. Literacy has certainly progressed to a point where letters written in Orokaiva to any family in Sivepe can be read and understood with the help of at least a junior member of the family; and can be replied to. While I could see no evidence that people have acquired mathematical knowledge of any sophistication, I was struck by a strong quantitative orientation. In the Orokaiva language, there are no numerals higher than 2; hence, it is the invariable practise to use English numerals when speaking the Orokaiva language. The numerals are, in fact, among the main English linquistic features that have been borrowed. They are used with remarkable frequency; the number of coffee trees, the value in pounds of trade goods included in a bride price, the calculation of money prices, even the number of brothers or men who together played some role in a mythological tale (a distinctly contemporary touch, this)-all these phenomena show that “numbers” have become an integral part of Orokaiva culture. The Orokaiva use the English word “number” for a variety of quantitative concepts, including price. Finally, one must regard as an aspect of acculturation, the introduction of many [Page 80] concepts drawn from the scene of world affairs. While among the Orokaiva, I heard talk about Vietnam, Indonesia, Africa, India. The political orientation displayed was a mild kind of nationalism, and a sense of closeness to newly independent non-white states. But the information, derived from radio broadcasts and speeches by councillors, introduced an acculturative kind of perspective. Its dissemination is being actively encouraged by the Australian authorities.’ ^[1]

[1]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 79

Travellers, sound-signals, and emissaries communicated information to other groups, but not professional runners were used: ’So much at present for the native theories of the manner in which the Taro is passed on. In reality the movement has spread in two ways. (a) The common way is for travellers or visitors to acquire the cult and return to inaugurate it in their own villagers; this is merely contact transmission. (b) The other way is that of active proselytism. One or two examples will illustrate these methods.’ ^[1] ’Trumpets. The Orokaiva chorus is accompanied not only by drums but usually also by a conch shell, blown by one of the most juvenile of the performers. This instrument adds much to the volume but little to the harmony of the concert. It is commonly a large spiral shell with a hole, but an alternative, somewhat rarely seen, is made of wood. Both are called hui. The principal use of the hui is for making sound-signals, such as the alarm of war, the announcement of a death, or the approach of a party bearing a pig. For such purposes there are distinctive rhythms of long and short notes, though it cannot be said that they amount to any elaborate system.’ ^[2] ’In the article referred to elsewhere in this report, viz. ‘The Movements of the Tribes of the Mambare Division of Northern Papua’ (Chinnery and Beaver), there is an interesting anecdote, still well remembered in the region of which it is told. The Binandele, led by a man Waia, had been raiding on the river Gira, and searching for their real enemies had in error attacked the Yema tribe, killed the chief, and captured a youth Jiani. For this unhappy mistake Waia expresses his sorrow, and desires that Kewatai, the absent son of the chief, be sent on a visit to the Binandele country in order to effect reconciliation and alliance.’ ^[3]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar) 1928. “Orokaiva Magic”, 17

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, 87p

[3]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray 1930. “Orokaiva Society”, 126

It seems that in certain cases at least the village was provided with some kind of stockade, though no trace of these defences remains to-day. ^[1] In former times, if native accounts are to be trusted, villages were more extensive through need of mutual protection against the raider; and a resident magistrate patrolling the river Gira in 1901 speaks of a village 200 yards long by two chains broad, which contained seventy-one houses and was ‘barricaded in with a look-out and fighting platforms on the stockade’. But nowadays [1923] pacification has brought about a tendency to scatter in small isolated groups. ^[2] Norton (1962:6) says that sometimes villages, which ‘are known to have been quite large’ and stockaded (cf. Williams 1930:67, 164-6), were separated by tracts of unclaimed virgin land until the time of the suppression of feuding. ^[3] That warfare was a constant in precontact Orokaivan life is also borne out by descriptions of material defence arrangements. Villages along the Kumusi, Ope, Mambare and Gira rivers, in particular, were reported to be stockaded in many cases and several had lookout platforms in large trees. In 1906 the Resident Magistrate reported fighting in the Kumusi area in which 102 houses, including several tree-houses, were burned. ^[4]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 166

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 68

[3]: Rimoldi, Max, Cromwell Burau, and Robert Ferraris 1966. “Land Tenure And Land Use Among The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 36

[4]: Newton, Janice. 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production.”, 488

It seems that in certain cases at least the village was provided with some kind of stockade, though no trace of these defences remains to-day. ^[1] In former times, if native accounts are to be trusted, villages were more extensive through need of mutual protection against the raider; and a resident magistrate patrolling the river Gira in 1901 speaks of a village 200 yards long by two chains broad, which contained seventy-one houses and was ‘barricaded in with a look-out and fighting platforms on the stockade’. But nowadays [1923] pacification has brought about a tendency to scatter in small isolated groups. ^[2] Norton (1962:6) says that sometimes villages, which ‘are known to have been quite large’ and stockaded (cf. Williams 1930:67, 164-6), were separated by tracts of unclaimed virgin land until the time of the suppression of feuding. ^[3] That warfare was a constant in precontact Orokaivan life is also borne out by descriptions of material defence arrangements. Villages along the Kumusi, Ope, Mambare and Gira rivers, in particular, were reported to be stockaded in many cases and several had lookout platforms in large trees. In 1906 the Resident Magistrate reported fighting in the Kumusi area in which 102 houses, including several tree-houses, were burned. ^[4]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 166

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 68

[3]: Rimoldi, Max, Cromwell Burau, and Robert Ferraris 1966. “Land Tenure And Land Use Among The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 36

[4]: Newton, Janice. 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production.”, 488

It seems that in certain cases at least the village was provided with some kind of stockade, though no trace of these defences remains to-day. ^[1] In former times, if native accounts are to be trusted, villages were more extensive through need of mutual protection against the raider; and a resident magistrate patrolling the river Gira in 1901 speaks of a village 200 yards long by two chains broad, which contained seventy-one houses and was ‘barricaded in with a look-out and fighting platforms on the stockade’. But nowadays [1923] pacification has brought about a tendency to scatter in small isolated groups. ^[2] Norton (1962:6) says that sometimes villages, which ‘are known to have been quite large’ and stockaded (cf. Williams 1930:67, 164-6), were separated by tracts of unclaimed virgin land until the time of the suppression of feuding. ^[3] That warfare was a constant in precontact Orokaivan life is also borne out by descriptions of material defence arrangements. Villages along the Kumusi, Ope, Mambare and Gira rivers, in particular, were reported to be stockaded in many cases and several had lookout platforms in large trees. In 1906 the Resident Magistrate reported fighting in the Kumusi area in which 102 houses, including several tree-houses, were burned. ^[4]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 166

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 68

[3]: Rimoldi, Max, Cromwell Burau, and Robert Ferraris 1966. “Land Tenure And Land Use Among The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 36

[4]: Newton, Janice. 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production.”, 488

It seems that in certain cases at least the village was provided with some kind of stockade, though no trace of these defences remains to-day. ^[1] In former times, if native accounts are to be trusted, villages were more extensive through need of mutual protection against the raider; and a resident magistrate patrolling the river Gira in 1901 speaks of a village 200 yards long by two chains broad, which contained seventy-one houses and was ‘barricaded in with a look-out and fighting platforms on the stockade’. But nowadays [1923] pacification has brought about a tendency to scatter in small isolated groups. ^[2] Norton (1962:6) says that sometimes villages, which ‘are known to have been quite large’ and stockaded (cf. Williams 1930:67, 164-6), were separated by tracts of unclaimed virgin land until the time of the suppression of feuding. ^[3] That warfare was a constant in precontact Orokaivan life is also borne out by descriptions of material defence arrangements. Villages along the Kumusi, Ope, Mambare and Gira rivers, in particular, were reported to be stockaded in many cases and several had lookout platforms in large trees. In 1906 the Resident Magistrate reported fighting in the Kumusi area in which 102 houses, including several tree-houses, were burned. ^[4]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 166

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 68

[3]: Rimoldi, Max, Cromwell Burau, and Robert Ferraris 1966. “Land Tenure And Land Use Among The Mount Lamington Orokaiva”, 36

[4]: Newton, Janice. 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production.”, 488

Villages were often built on hill-tops (where there were any hills) by way of defence, and many such sites are marked by clusters of coco-nut palms in the Tain-Daware district. In these easy-going times they have been abandoned for more accessible positions. ^[1]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 164

Whether colonial military forts were constructed remains in need of confirmation.

Williams and Murray report the construction of spear pits: ’As a last point may be mentioned the miniature spear-pits (see p. 49) with which the paths were sometimes beset. They are mentioned as occurring in the Kokoda district, often beside a tree-trunk that has fallen across the path, so that the unwary might step over the log and into the trap. Several of the police had their feet spiked in this manner. Near Bogi, again, Mr. Alec Elliot, attacking a force of natives established in a strong position on the opposite side of a garden, found this garden to be ‘one mass of small spears and spear-pits’.’ ^[1] Whether these traps qualify as fortifications remains in question.

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.", 166

Given the presence of colonial forces, this remains in need of confirmation.

Given the presence of colonial forces, this remains in need of confirmation.

(NB: Mentioned only in a fishing, rather than military context.) Shotguns, iron-ended spears, goggles, lanterns and nylon fishing nets made hunting and fishing easier and have, according to the villagers, contributed to decimation of game and fish as well as to a decreased need for co-operation in the tasks. ^[1] Fishing-spears. Any spear will serve on emergency for a fishing-spear, but nowadays it is frequently furnished with a point of iron wire. ^[2]

[1]: Newton, Janice. 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change.”, 229

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 57

The Sling. The sling (taiha) is said to have been once a genuine weapon, yet the early reports contain no mention of it as being used by the hostile natives. W. E. Armit speaks of the men of the Upper Kumusi and Yodda river as ‘stone-throwers and rushing natives’, but other stories tell of the natives sometimes attacking with no weapons save large stones which they had picked up on the track, and there is no reason to suppose that the stone-throwers mentioned by Mr. Armit threw with anything but their hands. Now, at any rate, the sling is little more than a toy, though why elderly men should sometimes carry these playthings in their bags I have not been able to discover. In the typical example the pouch is of roughly netted string (Plate XVIIIb). Of the attached strings one is in the form of a loop, which is passed round a finger; the other is released in throwing. ^[1]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 83

The use of bows and arrows has been reported for other Papua New Guinean societies, such as the Wola: ’Food. Highlanders were able to meet their food requirements easily and with scarcely any direct use of flaked lithics. Garden vegetables are available all year and the domestic pig is the main source of meat. Some animals are hunted, but hunting is not important to subsistence (Pospisil 1963; Salisbury 1962; Sillitoe 2001). Wild pig is the largest and most dangerous animal hunted and people use their most effective weapons to hunt it, or employ other techniques such as trapping. Though hunting is relatively danger-free, the same equipment is used for warfare, thus relating it to danger. Hunting equipment comprises bows and arrows hafted with slivers of bamboo and palm. Stone arrowheads were not made. There is no connection between perilous activities and stone which might enhance its status. The all-important agricultural tools are made predominantly of wood. Not only is more care taken with these extractive tools, they also take considerably longer to make (e.g. digging sticks took on average four hours using stone tools) (Sillitoe 1988).’ ^[1] This code may therefore be in need of reconsideration.

[1]: Sillitoe, Paul and Hardy, Karen 2003. "Living Lithics: ethnoarchaeology in Highland Papua New Guinea", 562p

The beha is held under-grip in the warrior’s left hand, which also contrives to hold a club and even an extra spear. His right hand poises or brandishes the spear which he is about to throw, giving little jerks which cause it to vibrate like a twanged string. ^[1]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 84

Guns and snorkels were introduced shortly after the Second World War. ^[1] The game population was virtually exterminated after the introduction of guns in the 1950s. ^[2] This conflicts with Kituai’s account of a WW I-related incident: ’In contrast to the localized, but sometimes ferocious and lethal tribal wars, two world wars came to Papua New Guinea. During World War I, Papua New Guinea almost escaped the violence. A semblance of military combat between an Australian force and German soldiers at Bitapaka, New Britain, lasted only one day […] Significantly, New Guinean police did most of the fighting and dying for the Germans. Among those who fought, 30 died from rifle fire, 10 were wounded, and 56 were taken prisoners (Mackenzie 1987, 73-74; Burnell 1915). Germany’s New Guinea possessions, then known as the “old protectorate”, included the northeast portion of the mainland, the Bismarck Archipelago, and Bougainville. They came under Australian military rule in September 1914 and remained subject to the Australian Naval and Military Expeditionary Force (ANMEF) until civil administration was restored on 9 May 1921. Papua remained an Australian territory, while what was formerly German New Guinea became in 1921 a mandated territory under the League of Nations. Australia was given responsibility to administer both territories, this time under civilian government.’ ^[3] The constabulary was armed with rifles and trained in a paramilitary fashion: ’Second, the Papua New Guinean policemen of the period did not receive professional training the same way as a teacher, lawyer, or economist. There were no hard theories to be learned, for instance, in social anthropology, to assist them in their work, and no mind-stretching examinations to be sat. A policeman’s training from the 1890s to the 1960s was brief and intellectually slight, both from the traditional perspective and in comparison to the training given today. […] Apart from that, their important achievement was as part of a small mobile army unit -foot patrolling, keeping guard using the rifle, and maintaining law and order. In this they were quite effective. […] If however, during their service they performed diligently and achieved things in a manner in keeping with those who received professional training, then credit must go to the noncommissioned officers and officers who continued their training in the field -and to their own initiative, innate abilities, and understanding of local conditions.’ ^[4]

[1]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva.”, 34

[2]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1973. “Exchange In The Social Structure Of The Orokaiva: Traditional And Emergent Ideologies In The Northern District Of Papua.”, 19

[3]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 166

[4]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 108

Guns and snorkels were introduced shortly after the Second World War. ^[1] The game population was virtually exterminated after the introduction of guns in the 1950s. ^[2] This conflicts with Kituai’s account of a WW I-related incident: ’In contrast to the localized, but sometimes ferocious and lethal tribal wars, two world wars came to Papua New Guinea. During World War I, Papua New Guinea almost escaped the violence. A semblance of military combat between an Australian force and German soldiers at Bitapaka, New Britain, lasted only one day […] Significantly, New Guinean police did most of the fighting and dying for the Germans. Among those who fought, 30 died from rifle fire, 10 were wounded, and 56 were taken prisoners (Mackenzie 1987, 73-74; Burnell 1915). Germany’s New Guinea possessions, then known as the “old protectorate”, included the northeast portion of the mainland, the Bismarck Archipelago, and Bougainville. They came under Australian military rule in September 1914 and remained subject to the Australian Naval and Military Expeditionary Force (ANMEF) until civil administration was restored on 9 May 1921. Papua remained an Australian territory, while what was formerly German New Guinea became in 1921 a mandated territory under the League of Nations. Australia was given responsibility to administer both territories, this time under civilian government.’ ^[3] The constabulary was armed with rifles and trained in a paramilitary fashion: ’Second, the Papua New Guinean policemen of the period did not receive professional training the same way as a teacher, lawyer, or economist. There were no hard theories to be learned, for instance, in social anthropology, to assist them in their work, and no mind-stretching examinations to be sat. A policeman’s training from the 1890s to the 1960s was brief and intellectually slight, both from the traditional perspective and in comparison to the training given today. […] Apart from that, their important achievement was as part of a small mobile army unit -foot patrolling, keeping guard using the rifle, and maintaining law and order. In this they were quite effective. […] If however, during their service they performed diligently and achieved things in a manner in keeping with those who received professional training, then credit must go to the noncommissioned officers and officers who continued their training in the field -and to their own initiative, innate abilities, and understanding of local conditions.’ ^[4]

[1]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1969. “Cultural Consequences Of A Volcanic Eruption Experienced By The Mount Lamington Orokaiva.”, 34

[2]: Schwimmer, Eric G. 1973. “Exchange In The Social Structure Of The Orokaiva: Traditional And Emergent Ideologies In The Northern District Of Papua.”, 19

[3]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 166

[4]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 108

Stone Clubs. Stone clubs are of two principal kinds, the ‘pineapple’ (gishi) and the disk (emi). They are made from river pebbles. The former variety has a hole through the longer axis for the haft, and its striking surface is serrated by means of longitudinal and lateral grooves, which leave a number of processes or points. The latter is more or less disk-shaped, the outer edge being ground down to a fairly sharp cutting-edge. ^[1] Wooden ‘Swords’. The wooden sword (asivo) is a blade-shaped length of black palm-wood usually some 3 feet 6 inches long. The point and edges are not so sharp as to pierce or cut, and the weapon is virtually a club. Being used with two hands, it is much less unwieldy than the stone-headed club, and probably gains in effectiveness by its lightness. The asivo is often painted and befeathered. ^[2]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 83

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 82

(NB: Oro "Swords" were all wooden; Williams & Murray describe them as "virtually a club" ^[1] (see above) and it has been coded as such.)

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 82

Spears. The principal weapon is the spear, of which several varieties are distinguished. ^[1] One or two varieties of hard-woods are used for spears, but these weapons as well as the wooden ‘sword’ are usually made from the tough and springy Koropa palm. ^[2] The significance of warfare to Orokaivan men is obvious but several descriptions suggest that Orokaivan women were also directly involved. Women had their own weapon, a quarterstaff ‘poreha’ (Williams 1930:163) and on at least one occasion joined in with the men in spear fighting. On most occasions it seems that women used only their staffs and fought alongside men in aggressive sham fights between clans (Waiko 1972, Williams 1930:162-163). They were more noted for their verbal contribution. The people most difficult to pacify were women, who, while doing little actual violence with their … quarterstaffs, were very successfully inciting to violence with their tongues (Williams 1930:163). ^[3]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 80

[2]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 16

[3]: Newton, Janice. 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production.”, 492

As the miners and carriers moved into Gira River and Yodda Valley districts there was more violence between villagers and intruders. Over a period of about 18 months, large numbers of Kumusi villagers joined with the Kokoda people to attack miners and storekeepers nearly every week. Resident Magistrate Armit intervened in an attempt to reduce the tension, but in various encounters with parties of Orokavians armed with stones, spears and tomahawks, he shot between fifty and sixty. ^[1]

[1]: Newton, Janice. 1985. “Orokaiva Production And Change.”, 26

[NB: only in shields.] The Shield. The shield (beha or pere) is made of light wood, about ½ inch thick, strongly bound with narrow strips of cane to prevent splitting. The handle is a loop of stout rattan which passes through the wood. The shape of the shield-square cut above and pointed below-caused early observers to refer to it very appropriately as ‘Gothic’. It sometimes bears a device-in no manner heraldic but purely decorative-made by interlacing black strands among the yellow cane binding strips; and when this is well done the effect may be artistic and even dainty (Plate XIX)... Shields are used very adroitly in turning or intercepting missiles, and a broken spear-point buried in the wood is regarded as a trophy. Despite the fact that their serious use is over they are still very commonly kept in readiness-at least by the Aiga-and they always make a fracas possible. Like most other men the Orokaiva has no stomach for the plain spear, and he enjoys his inter-tribal brawl much more when he has a beha in his hand. ^[1]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 84

The Shield. The shield (beha or pere) is made of light wood, about ½ inch thick, strongly bound with narrow strips of cane to prevent splitting. The handle is a loop of stout rattan which passes through the wood. The shape of the shield-square cut above and pointed below-caused early observers to refer to it very appropriately as ‘Gothic’. It sometimes bears a device-in no manner heraldic but purely decorative-made by interlacing black strands among the yellow cane binding strips; and when this is well done the effect may be artistic and even dainty (Plate XIX)... Shields are used very adroitly in turning or intercepting missiles, and a broken spear-point buried in the wood is regarded as a trophy. Despite the fact that their serious use is over they are still very commonly kept in readiness-at least by the Aiga-and they always make a fracas possible. Like most other men the Orokaiva has no stomach for the plain spear, and he enjoys his inter-tribal brawl much more when he has a beha in his hand. ^[1]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 84

This may require reconsideration, given the presence of colonial forces on the island.

This variable may also be in need of reconsideration. Kituai mentions armed naval vessels when narrating German punitive expeditions and the early colonial situation in general, primarily in the capacity of providing supplies and assistance to land forces, and occasional bombardments. ^[1]

[1]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 85p

This variable may also be in need of reconsideration. Kituai mentions armed naval vessels when narrating German punitive expeditions and the early colonial situation in general, primarily in the capacity of providing supplies and assistance to land forces, and occasional bombardments. ^[1]

[1]: Kituai, August Ibrum K. 1998. "My gun, my brother: the world of the Papua New Guinea colonial police, 1920-1960", 85p

With few exceptions the trees are soft-woods, and these supply easy material for canoes and much of the house-building. ^[1] The Binandere “built canoes and explored the river, extending their settlement wherever land was suitable” (Chinnery and Beaver 1917:160). ^[2]

[1]: Williams, F. E. (Francis Edgar), and Hubert Murray. 1930. “Orokaiva Society.”, 16

[2]: Newton, Janice. 1983. “Orokaiva Warfare And Production.” Journal Of The Polynesian Society 92 (4): 487-507