Lang Andrew
Magic and Religion
A curious piece of evidence by Dr. Callaway is given in a note not in his book. One Zulu account is that Unkulunkulu was created by Utikxo. Now Unkulunkulu was visible, Utikxo was invisible, and so was more prominent and popular.'433 Thus regarded, Unkulunkulu is the demiurge and deputy of Utikxo, as sometimes are Daramulun, Tundun, Hobamok, Okee, Bobowissi, the deputies of Baiame, Mungan-ngaur, Kiehtan, Ahone, Nyankupon, and so on. The idea is usual in savage theologies. Now Dr. Callaway cites the evidence of another Zulu: I We had this word before the missionaries came; we had God (Utikxo) long ago; for a man when dying would utter his last words, saying, "I am going home; I am going up on high." For there is a word in a song which says:
Guide me, O Hawk!
That I may go heavenward,
To seek the one-hearted man,
Away from double-hearted men,
Who deal in blessing and cursing.
We see, then, that those people used to speak of a matter of the present time, which we clearly understand by the word which the missionaries teach us… So we say there is no God' (no new God) 'who has just come to us.' Dr. Callaway explains: 'That God of whom the missionaries speak is not a new God, but the same God of whom we spoke by the terms Ukqamata and Utikxo.'434
Dr. Callaway could not produce this testimony, or translate it, owing to the archaisms and allusions demanding familiarity with ancient Zulu songs, till he got the aid of a Kxosa Kaffir.
I am apt to regard the archaic character of the piece as fairly good proof of genuine antiquity. If the testimony is accepted, it settles the question in my sense. The Zulu religion, in its higher elements, was a waning religion Utikxo was, 'with his one foot in the grave,' like John Knox; he was not, as by Mr. Hartland's theory, a god in the making. Old hymns are our best authorities, and the hymn proves a belief in a future far nobler than the transfiguration of Zulu souls into serpents. A deity is also attested by the witness. But from the use of the word Utikxo by this witness, he may be speaking of ideas borrowed by Hottentots from the Dutch, and by Kaffirs from Hottentots.
Another odd example occurs elsewhere. Mr. Frazer quotes the King of Sofala, or of Quiteva, or 'The Quiteva.'435 This king ranks with the deity; in fact, 'the Caffres acknowledge no other gods than their monarch,' says Dos Santos. But Mr. Frazer omits the circumstance that the same author adds: 'They acknowledge a God who both in this world and the world to come they fancy measures retribution for the good and evil done in this… Though convinced of the existence of a deity they neither adore nor pray to him.'436 Here we have a belief in a future life and a god (Molunga) analogous to that revealed in the archaic Zulu hymn. But Dos Santos only recognised as god a god who receives prayer and adoration; hence he says that the Kaffirs have no gods, and also that they 'acknowledge a god' – unworshipped. The name of that god, Molunga, is the same, I presume, as Mulungu, who now, 'in the world beyond the grave, is represented as assigning to spirits their proper places.'437
To myself, then, Zulu religion, now almost exclusively ancestor-worship, does seem to contain a broken and almost obliterated element of belief in a high unworshipped god, presiding over a future life. Obviously archaic hymns are better evidence, with their native interpretation, than the contradictory statements of individual Zulus, who speak dubiously of what the fathers used to say. The analogy between the Utikxo and Mulungu belief also counts as corroboration, while the unworshipped supreme being, with a deputy or deputies (Utikxo – Unkulunkulu), is a pervading feature of savage religion. If philology could throw any certain light on the meanings of names like Mulungu, and so forth, more sure ground might be reached. Again, when the name of a relatively supreme being may be regarded as a plural, like Elohim, the inference may be that many ancestral spirits are being blended, or have been blended, into one being. The case of the Mura Mura of the Australian Dieri has met us already, in the essay on 'Magic and Religion.' Is it a case of 'They' or 'He?' 'Mulungu= God,' a native told Mr. Clement Scott; 'you can't put the plural, as God is One.' 'Spirits are spirits of people who have died' (Mzima), 'not gods.' On the other hand, Mr. Macdonald learned that 'people who have died become Mulungu.' Yet he is also regarded as a separate and supreme being, who assigns their places to the spirits of the dead. His very name is variously interpreted as 'sky' or 'ancestor.'
We may argue that Mulungu is primal, and that the spirits of the dead, Mzima, are only 'the people of Mulungu,' who was, in the myth, prior to death. Or we may argue that many Mzima have been combined in a later conception of Mulungu as a single being. Such beings do occur, it is certain, where spirits of the dead are held of no account in religion. I fear that, in the condition of the evidence, students will take sides in accordance with their bias: at least both parties will think that their opponents do so. I have observed that many writers appear only to be aware of the existence of the religious bias, which denotes lack of humour.
As to Utikxo, Mr. Beiderbecke, like Dr. Callaway, thinks that Kaffirs, living near Hottentots, borrowed their name for god, Tixo (Utikxo), and dropped Unkulunkulu. Among the Ovaherero, in a region 'which had not yet been under the influence of civilisation and Christianity' (1873), Mr. Beiderbecke found that a god called Karunga was believed in. 'Look at our oxen and sheep: is it not Karunga who has made us so rich,' as Jehovah made the Israelites? Mukuru was used by believers in Kuringa as the name for the missionaries' God. Mukuru 'is in Otyihereró the name for god.' The derivation is unknown, but Omurunga, the sacred fan-palm tree, must be derived from Omuru, not Omuru from Omurunga. The Otyihereró word for spirit differs from both: it is Otyimbosi. As a god, Karunga seems to have no sacrifices: these are made to ancestral spirits. Karunga does not appear to be offended by sin, but this seems merely to be inferred from his receiving no atonement, as the spirits do. When people are dying they say 'Karunga has bid them come.' Traces of him as a creator are very dubious, but rain, thunder, and so on come from him, as proverbial sayings prove, and he is prayed to in time of danger – the prayers may be post-Christian. The Omuambo creation tale, or one of the tales, makes Kalunga, like Morimo, come out of the earth, and create men and women. He is no ghost. 'They also had ghosts,' the witness said, I but Kalunga was quite a distinct and unique being.'438
My bias in favour of my own theory is unconcealed, but I conceive that South African belief in a god, 'a unique being,' indicates itself in Mr. Beiderbecke's evidence.
There are different words for this being and for ghosts and spirits; though in other cases philology finds cognate African words for both.
Dr. Callaway concludes: 'It appears that in the native mind there is scarcely any idea of deity, if any at all, wrapped up in their sayings about a heavenly chief. When it is applied to God it is simply the result of teaching. Among themselves he is not regarded as the Creator, nor as the preserver of men; but as a power, it may be nothing more than an earthly chief, still celebrated by name – a relic of the king worship of the Egyptians; another form of ancestor-worship' – only he is not worshipped!439 Dr. Callaway, a most impartial inquirer, has given several cases of very old Zulus, who in childhood heard from their elders about a creator, a creative lord. But this excellent collector had just a trifle of most justifiable bias. He was arguing to prove that Unkulunkulu, Uthlanga, Utikxo, and the rest were not safe equivalents to be used by missionaries for God. And they were not safe equivalents. Umpengula argued that point to perfection. Unkulunkulu, he said, was a name to deceive children with; you must not come to us with a new great god, and call him by the name of a being whom every adult Zulu despises.440 But that the name was despised, say in 1860, by 'convinced manes-worshippers,' by no means proves the non-existence of a higher belief in the past. Mr. Ridley deemed Baiame a fit name for the Christian God: probably it was imprudent to employ it in teaching natives.
Urged by his justifiable objection to the use of native names to indicate the Christian God, Dr. Callaway, in the conclusion just quoted, forgot, or had abandoned, his opinion that the evidence of old Zulus represented a blending of beliefs, beginning with 'a primitive faith in a heavenly Lord or Creator.'441 I entirely go with his conclusion that the natives at large, of his generation, did not regard 'the heavenly chief as the Creator or preserver of men,' and that 'they had scarcely any notion of deity at all.' But, on the evidence collected from very old people by Dr. Callaway, I feel disposed to think it probable enough that, under stress of military life, conquest, and ancestor-worship, the Zulus may have forgotten and almost obliterated the higher belief which the old men had heard of in their infancy. If so, the Zulus fall into the general line of my argument. Their faint traditions (as in the case of Atahocan) have dwindled to children's tales. They are not the 'theoplasm' of a god who was in course of becoming. But, of course, it may be argued that these faint rudiments came in, with Utikxo, through the Hottentots, who picked them up in conversation with the Dutch. This process, however, does not apply to the belief in superior beings, carefully concealed from the native women, the children, and the Europeans, by the Australians. Nor does it apply to the American Kiehtan, Ahone, Andouagni, Atahocan, and many others. Such are the hesitating conclusions which I venture to draw from what we are told about religion among the peoples of South Africa. In favour of my theory is the fact that the oldest evidence, that of persons born before the genius of Chaka revolutionised Zulu life, agrees with what I expect to find, a creative tradition.
The success of either of the competing theories – that which sees elements of a high religion among low savages, and that which denies the existence of these elements – does not appear to me to affect our ideas about 'the truth of religion.' Each theory regards religion as a thing evolved by mankind in accordance with their essential nature. The only question is as to the sequence of stages of evolution. Suppose that the beginning of religion was (as in my hypothesis) regard for a maker and father, who was credited with sanctioning morality, and, in some cases, with rewarding or punishing the good or bad in a future life. These ideas occur in modern religion. But the circumstance that they also occurred in primitive religion would not prove modern religion to be 'true.' It would only prove that the men who evolved primitive religion were really human: very like their descendants. Why not? They did not produce the higher ideas pure: or at least, as we find them, they are always contaminated, soften overlaid, by myths of every degree of absurdity and viciousness. But it is to be observed that the faith of primitive man, as far as it is represented by the evidence which I offer as to very backward man, had not some of the worst elements of the creeds of more advanced races. Sacrifices there were none. But when agriculture arose, it brought with it hecatombs of human sacrifices, especially if we agree with Mr. Frazer's theory stated in 'The Golden Bough.' So far it cannot be doubted that, as man advanced in social progress, he became more deeply stained with religious cruelty. In similar fashion the religion of peace and goodwill came to be accompanied, thanks to the nature of mankind, by religious cruelties as barbarous as those of the Aztecs. Tantæ molis erat: so hard has it been to elevate the race in any one direction without introducing new depressions in other directions.
XIII
'CUP AND RING:' AN OLD PROBLEM SOLVED
History and antiquity supply our curious minds with many pleasant profitless exercises. Even in these days of education there are still many persons who have heard of the Man in the Iron Mask, and would like to know who he was. Nobody, of course, reads the 'Letters of Junius,' but many would be glad to be certain as to who wrote them.
My riddle is infinitely more remote, but it has this merit: that I think I can unriddle it. If ever you roamed on that moor of the Cheviot Hills which is near Chatton Park (I think on Lord Tankerville's ground), you may have noticed, engraved on the boulders, central cup-like depressions, surrounded by incised concentric circles. Who hollowed out these devices, why, and in what age?
I remember putting these questions when I first saw the 'scalps' of whinstone, just swelling out of the turf among the heather, on a beautiful day of September. It was a lonely spot, where victual never grew; about us were the blue heights of the Cheviots, below us the fabulosus amnis of Till, that drowns three men to one drowned by Tweed. My friend told me that some said the stones were places of Druid human sacrifice, and others, men of common sense, held that the herd-boys carved the circles out of sheer idleness.
But these answers will not pass. There were no herd-boys nor Druids in Central Australia, nor on the Rio Negro in Brazil, among the Waimara Indians, nor in Fiji, nor in Georgia of old, nor in Zululand, where these decorative markings occur with others of primeval character. In our own country they are found, not only on scalps of rock, but on the stones of 'Druid circles,' from Inverness-shire to Lancashire, Cumberland, and the Isle of Man. They also occur on great stones arranged in avenues; on cromlechs (one huge horizontal stone supported on others which are erect); on the stones of chambered tumuli (artificial mounds) in Yorkshire; on stone 'kist' or coffins, in Scotland, Ireland, and in Dorset; on prehistoric obelisks, or solitary 'standing stones,' in Argyll; on walls in underground Picts' houses in the Orkneys and Forfarshire; in prehistoric Scottish forts; near old camps; as well as on isolated rocks, scalps, and stones. Analogous double spirals occur at New Grange, in Ireland, at the entrance of the great gallery leading to the domed chamber; in Scandinavia; in Asia Minor; in China and Zululand; in Australia, India, America, North and South, and in Fiji.442
Now, who made these marks, when, and why? Sir James Simpson says: 'They are archæological enigmas, which we have no present power of solving.' He cites some guesses. The markings are 'archaic maps or plans of old circular camps and cities.' They are sundials – but they occur in dark chambers of sepulchres, or underground houses! They stand for sun, or moon, or for Lingam worship. They are Roman, or they are Phœnician – a theory on which much learning has been wasted.
To all these guesses Sir James Simpson opposed the solution that the markings are merely decorative. 'From the very earliest historic periods in the architecture of Egypt, Assyria, Greece, &c., down to our own day, circles, single or double, and spirals have formed, under various modifications, perhaps the most common types of lapidary decoration.' It appears in Polynesian tattooing, this love of spirals and volutes. But, added Sir James, 'that they were emblems or symbols, connected in some way with the religious thoughts and doctrines of those that carved them, appears to me to be rendered probable, at least, by the position and circumstances in which we occasionally find them placed,' as on the lids of stone coffins and mortuary urns. Their date must be 'very remote.' They preceded writing and tradition. They are found in company with polished neolithic stone weapons, as in Brittany, without any remains of the metals, save in one case, of gold. The markings are certainly, in Australia, earlier than the use of metals. Sir James found by experiment that the markings could be made even on Aberdeen granite with a flint celt and a wooden mallet. He reckoned them earlier than the arrival of the Celtic race, and asked for evidence of their existence in Africa, America, or Polynesia. He did not know the Fijian example in Williams's work on the Fijians, nor the American and Australian examples.
Sir James did not live to hear much about these mysterious marks in remote and savage lands. But, in 1875, Professor Daniel Wilson discovered, or rather reported his discovery of, cups and rings on a granite boulder in Georgia. The designs are quite of the familiar orthodox sort, and rocks covered with deep cup-marks occur in Ohio.443 Now there are romantic antiquaries, all for Druids and Phœnicians; and there are sardonic antiquaries, who like to rub the gilt off the gingerbread. Dr. Wilson was of the latter class, and explained the cups as holes made by early men in grinding stone pestles. The concentric rings may have been drawn round the cups 'for amusement.' This is clamping, but early man did not use stone kists and the inner walls of sepulchres as grindstones; yet on these the marks occur. Nor would he climb an almost inaccessible rock to find his grindstone; yet the summit of such a rock has the decorations, in the parish of Tannadyce (Forfarshire). We may, therefore, discard Dr. Wilson's theory as a general solution of the problem. Sir James Simpson left it with the answer that the marks are decorative, plus religious symbolism.444 His guess, as I think I can prove, or, at least, cause to seem probable, was correct. The cups and circles, with other marks, were originally decorative, with a symbolical and religious meaning in certain cases. How I have reached this conclusion I go on to show.
When you want to understand an old meaningless custom or belief, found in the middle of civilisation, you try to discover the belief or custom in some region where it possesses intelligible life. Then you may reckon that, where you now find it without meaning, it once meant what it now does where it is full of vitality, or meant something analogous.
The place where the concentric circles and other markings have a living and potent signification I discovered by pure accident. I had been reading the proofs of Messrs. Spencer and Gillen's valuable book on the 'Native Tribes of Central Australia' (Macmillan). There I had noted plenty of facts about the native churinga, or 'sacred things,' flat oval pieces of wood or stone, covered with concentric circles, cups, and other decorations, which are read, or deciphered, as records of the myths and legendary history of the native race. These churinga are of various sizes, down to a foot or less in length. I did not think of them in connection with our cups, circles, and so forth on our boulders and standing stones. But a friend chanced to come into my study, who began to tell me about the singular old site, Dumbuck, discovered by Mr. W. A. Donnelly (July 1898), under high-tide mark in the Clyde estuary, near Dumbarton. 'The odd thing,' said my friend, 'is that they have found small portable stones, amulets marked in the same way as the cup and ring marked rocks,' and he began to sketch a diagram. 'Why, that's a churinga,' said I, 'a Central Australian churinga,' enlightened by Messrs. Spencer and Gillen. My friend, after being informed as to churinga, told me that other examples had been dug up, also by Mr. Donnelly, in an ancient fort near the other site, at a place called Dunbuie. Here, then, I had things very like churinga, and of the same markings as our boulders, kists, and so on, in two Scottish sites, where I understand neither pottery nor metal has yet been detected. Next, I found that the marks which the Australians engrave on their small churinga, they also paint on boulders, rock-walls, and other fixtures in the landscape, on sacred ground, tabooed to women.
The startling analogy between Australian and old Scottish markings saute aux yeux.
On the cover of Sir James Simpson's book, stamped in gold, is a central set of six concentric circles, surrounding a cup. From the inmost circle a groove goes to the circumference of the outer circle (the circles often occur without this radial groove), and there the line gives a wriggle, suggesting that the circle was evolved out of a spiral. Above and below this figure are a similar one with three and another with four concentric circles; at each side are two-circled and one-circled specimens with the wriggled line, and two cups and circles with no wriggle. Now compare fig. 131, p. 631, of Messrs Spencer and Gillen. Here we have the churinga ilkinia, or sacred rock-drawing, in red and white, of the honey ant totem in the Warramunga tribe. Here are, first, seven concentric circles, through the centre of which goes a straight line of the same breadth (only found among the Warramunga), while to each extremity are added two concentric circles of small dimensions, ending in a cross. Around, as on Sir James's cover, are smaller sets of less numerous concentric circles, exactly like Sir James's, except for the radial groove which ends in a wriggle. Again (fig. 124, p. 615), we have two sets of concentric circles with white dots answering to cups, and, where the third set of circles should be, is a volute, as at New Grange, in Ireland, and in many other examples in our islands.
Now, in Central Australia the decorative motives, or analogous motives, of the permanent rock-paintings are repeated on the small portable churinga, which are deciphered by the blacks in a religious, or rather in a mythical, sense. It is, therefore, arguable that the small portable Scottish cup and circle marked stones, only recently discovered, bore the same relation to the engravings on permanent stones, scalps, and boulders as do the Australian churinga to the Australian sacred rock-paintings. They may have been portable sacred things.
I have been unable to visit Dumbuck, now in course of excavation, and have only seen some casts and pen-and-ink sketches sent to me by Mr. Donnelly. But I have examined the similar objects from Dunbuie, in the museum at Edinburgh. The antiquaries looked dubiously on them, because they had seen no such matters before (they might have done so in Ireland), because a shell, with a very modern scratched face, was among the finds, and because a few of the markings on one or two stones look recent and fresh. But I argue that a Dumbarton humourist wishing to hoax us Monkbarnses would hardly 'salt' an old site with objects unknown to Scottish antiquaries, yet afterwards discovered in Central Australia. How could the idea occur to him? A forger would forge things known, such as flint weapons; he would not forge novelties, which, later, are found to tally with savage sacred things in actual use.
Many of the Dunbuie finds are engraved in Mr. Millar's paper on Dunbuie.445 But he has not engraved the most unmistakable churinga, a small oval slab of stone, with an ornament of little cups following its outline (much as in an Irish instance), and provided, like stone churinga in Australia, with a hole for suspension.
He does engrave certain hitherto unheard-of articles-spearheads of slate, two supplied with suspension holes. One (p. 294) has a pattern of the simplest, like a child's drawing of a larch, which recurs in Australia.446 That these slate spear-heads, pierced for suspension, were used in war I doubt, though some Australians do use spear-heads 'of a flinty slate;' and where flint is so scarce, as in Scotland, hard slate may be used – for example, in North America.447 I rather regard the slate weapons as amulets, or churinga, analogous to the very old and rare boomerang-shaped churinga of the Arunta (lizard totem) of Central Australia. Mr. Millar observes: 'They have all been saturated with oil or fat, as water does not adhere to them, but runs off as from a greasy surface.' Now the Australian churinga are very frequently rubbed with red ochre, and made greasy with 'hand grease' – a singular coincidence. Footmarks are among the sacred Australian rock-paintings with a legendary sense. They also occur, engraved on rock in Brittany, Ireland, on 'The Fairy Stone' (ilkinia) in Glenesk, and on 'The Witches' Stone' at Monzie, associated with cups and concentric circles.448 These close analogies point all in one direction.
Meaningless in Europe, what meaning have these designs in Australia? Though certainty is impossible, I take it that they were first purely decorative, before the mythical and symbolical meaning was read into them by the savages. They occur on the mystic 'bull-roarers' of Central Queensland, but I do not learn that in Queensland the circles and so on are interpreted or deciphered as among the Arunta.449 Still, they occur here in a religious connection – the bull-roarer being swung at the mysteries – and they are carved on trees at mysteries held far south in New South Wales.450 But even in Central Australia the markings sometimes occur as purely decorative, on one rock or other object, while on others they are sacred, and are interpreted as records of legends,451 according to Spencer and Gillen. There are 'ordinary rock-paintings,' and certain other drawings, in many cases not distinguishable from some of the first series, so far as their form is concerned, but belonging to a class all of which are spoken of as churinga ilkinia, and are regarded as sacred because they are associated with totems. Each local totemic group has certain of these specially belonging to the group, and in very many cases preserved on rock-surfaces in spots which are strictly tabu to the women, children, and uninitiated men.' One of the commonest I represents a snake coming out of a hole in a rock,' which the wriggle out of the cup in our circle-marked stones would stand for fairly well. Some designs are only 'play-work;' others exactly similar, on another spot, have a definite meaning. The meaning is read, where the spot is sacred ground. The concentric circles are 'believed, on good ground, to have been derived from an original spiral.' 'It is much more easy to imagine a series of concentric circles originating out of a spiral than to imagine a spiral originating out of a series of concentric circles.' In this country the spiral seems to be later than the circle.
These devices not only occur on fixed rocks and portable churinga, they are also painted on the bodies of boys when initiated in the mysteries: 'concentric circles with radiating lines preponderate.'
In Mr. Haddon's 'Decorative Art of British New Guinea' he describes designs of concentric circles and spirals which are clearly derivatives of drawings of the human face.452 Thus our concentric circles and spirals may, in the last resort, have been derived from drawings of the human face, though diablement changés en route.
What, then, however we interpret the origin, decorative or symbolic, of the sacred designs, is their significance as understood by the Arunta of Central Australia at the present time?
The Arunta are totemistic – that is, they believe in close relations which bind up the groups of their society with certain plants and animals. But they differ vastly from other totemistic races all over the world, and even in Australia. So much do they differ that it may be doubted whether their totems can properly be called totems at all. Elsewhere a man of a given totem – say the emu – cannot marry a woman of that stock; it is incest. The children inherit their totem, either from the mother, or, less frequently, the father. Any local group in a given region contains persons of various totems. People may not kill, eat, or make any use of the plants and animals which, in each case, are their totems.
Among the Arunta all is otherwise. A child's totem may be that of his father, of his mother, or different from that of either parent. A man may marry a woman of his own totem, which elsewhere is incest, and capitally punished. Thus, father is a grub; mother is a grub; one child may be a grub, another an emu. Moreover, here totems are local; almost every one in a given place will be, for example, a lizard or a plum tree. Usually people do eat their own totems, though sparingly, at magical rites, intended to multiply the animal or plant with which it is associated, in the interests of the general food supply. The Grubs work a rite to cause plenty of grubs, and they give the other groups a lead by eating sparingly of the first fruits of the grubs. This bears, in my opinion, no strong analogy to the so-called 'totem-sacrament.' To work the magic, the men of the grub or other totem must eat a little of it. This probably confirms their relation to the grub, but involves no religious element. They do not adore the grub. If any one likes to call this a 'totem-sacrament,' he is rather easily satisfied. Nor does it agree with the notion that a man's totem is the receptacle of his 'life' or 'soul;' if so, why should he encourage his neighbour to kill and eat it? Nay, he even helps them to destroy it.
Whether Arunta totemism is the most archaic kind, from which all other totemism has varied, or whether it is a private 'sport' from the main stock, does not concern us here, and is matter of conjecture. The Arunta, and other Central Australian tribes, look back to a mythic past, when ancestors, closely connected with this or that plant or animal, perhaps transformations of such animal or plant, roamed the country in groups, each of the same totem name, each feeding freely on its own totem.
This was 'the Alcheringa time,' and existing rites are explained by 'ætiological myths,'stating how such or such a mummery, still practised, was originally practised in the Alcheringa. Nothing of the sort, of course, need have been the case, and such myths cannot tell us what the manners and customs of that dim age really were. Demeter was a woman of the Greek Alcheringa, and the Eleusinian rites were explained by the Greeks as originating in her Alcheringa adventures. But these obviously were invented purely to account for the rites themselves, not vice versâ.
