Highlands of Papua

HIGHLANDS OF PAPUA

139LEADERSHIP AND WARFARE

CHAPTER SEVEN

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Leadership in traditional Highland Papuan society was often, but not always, connected with warfare. In some cultures, there were separate war and non-war leaders. While being a war leader was essential in many societies, to become a paramount leader, wealth

Leadership in warfare for positions of power was an important requirement in many highlands societies. A leader also needed to be persuasive.

140 HIGHLANDS OF PAPUA

A (former) Dani war chief explains why and how he led warriors into battle. His body showed many scars from arrows and one spear wound. .


and generosity were part of the necessary equation. Leadership in !ghting did not only involve actual physical skills, but also organizational abilities, timing and a connection to the world of spirits that would insure victory. Leadership in the Papuan highlands was traditionally held by

what is generally called Big Men. "ese leaders did not inherit their dominant positions but acquired it through qualities es-teemed by the societies at large. In varying degrees, depending on di#erent groups, the main qualities required were !ghting prow-ess, intelligence, oratory ability, hard work and wealth (shells and pigs) and helping to come up with the brideswealth for their followers. Physically, the leader had to be well built, strong and without deformities, although arrow and spear wounds were or no hindrance. A !rm personality had to be supported by the ability to speak well and persuasively in public. As elsewhere, charisma helped. "e man had to be willing to work hard and have the shrewdness to translate this work into economic pro-duction: wives, gardens and pigs. It helped to be skillful in trade. Above all, the man had to be able to distribute

A chief of the Me tribe called Motuwi opens a pig feast in the 1950s by proclaiming this from a roof-top. Me chiefs built their prestige through their wealth in cowrie shells and pigs. (Photo Smedts)


his wealth wisely, to the maximum e#ect both for himself and his kin or residence group. "e concept of leadership presents a complex picture to outsid-

ers, especially those unfamiliar with traditional societies. To an American, there should be ‘one chief and lots of Indians’ who do his bidding. "e Javanese are used to a highly structured society with clear lines of power from the sultan (now high government o$cials) on down. Highland societies are generally egalitarian, with one’s e#orts more important than who one’s parents are. However, as in all societies, it helped to have a powerful father, but for the highland Papuans, only to some extent. If the son was unworthy, he had little chance of attaining a leadership position. Of course, each highlands society had its own rules, some similar, some di#erent. Let us take a few examples.

"e Amungme are in gen-eral a very egalitarian so-ciety. Contrasted to other highland groups, they were less willing to follow lead-ers than the more structured Dani. But the Me were even more individualistic than the Amungme. Ellenberger, writing of the Damal, states that ‘each man is a chief

A Me leader or ‘tonowi’ makes a speech to his followers. Young men depended on these leaders to raise the bride price necessary for marriage. Leaders throughout the highlands usually had several wives, thanks to their prestige and wealth. (Photo Pospisil)


unto himself ’. He adds that men wanted the leaders an-nounce the decisions they reached by consensus. With the Amungme, the lead-ers were not necessarily the most popular or the oldest persons. And their leaders had quite limited powers (unlike some other high-land groups), as there was no concept of coercion or enforcement (unless a taboo has been broken). Each man was free to either conform to jointly reached decisions, or to try to lead his own group of dissidents to another loca-tion. Among the Me, wealth in

cowrie shells was the essen-tial quali!cation for lead-ership. But hoarding this wealth was most objectionable. "e cowries had to be used to help young male dependents acquire wives, as well as organizing large-scale festivals. In contrast, among the Baliem Valley Dani, !ghting skills, and organization ability for ambushes was para-mount. Leadership in the highlands was tied to the degree of social or-

ganization. Small, isolated communities might only have one or

A Dani enters his walled compound. Warfare among the Dani seldom reached their compounds, with most of the !ghting held either on open battle!elds or by ambush. Some PNG villages had much higher and stronger walls for protection.


two leaders per settlement. Where hamlets were situated with easier contact one with another, within a valley or a language group, there would likely be Big Men with in%uence over the whole but restricted area. Larger units, such as those of war alli-ances (sometimes called confederations) would have paramount leaders, who were specialists in warfare.

SELF&MADE LEADERS

We have pointed out that leadership among Papuan highland so-cieties depended more than anything else on individual initiative; so how could a young man become a leader? As in most other societies, it helped to have a rich father and

A Dani leader strolls though the upper Baliem Valley. He carries a jabbing spear and wears a necklace of small Nassa shells. But he would never wear such a long penis sheath during any battles.


relatives to get a start in life. But it was also possible for a poor young man to ‘lift himself by his bootstraps’, that is to help him-self by hard work. He could go on trading trips to start gathering capital for a wife, and payments for her could be stretched out over time, although an initial base price had to materialize some-how, usually with help from relatives. Or a marriage could be an ‘exchange’, allied clans supplying women for each other with the bride price largely canceled out by the time the mutual payments were completed. Today, in areas where wage work is available, a young man can raise a cash payment which is sometimes su$-

A group of Dani shows how they used to charge in a formal battle, in their !nest decorations. Very few men were killed during open !eld battles, although wounding was common. Ambushes were responsible for most deaths.


cient by itself to give in exchange for the brideswealth, although pigs are still an essential part of most the payments.Once a young man had a wife, it was time for them to get to

work: clearing land and planting sweet potatoes and taro, feeding and caring for piglets. At this stage, what counted was the couple’s ability to become e$cient farmers and to raise pigs. Once a man had one or more large pigs, he could start trading for valuable shells. And perhaps acquire another wife or two to enable him to open more gardens to raise more pigs and feed more people. (Since the 1960s, with the wide acceptance of Christianity, hav-

Bows and arrows were the most common weapons in hunting as well as !ghting but as arrows were not feathered, they were deadly only at close range.


ing more than one wife has become somewhat less acceptable. But recently polygamy has made a comeback.) While the accu-mulation of wealth in the form of pigs and shells was the essential base for acquiring in%uence and prestige, other factors also come into play. "e wise use of the resources to help kinfolk and others with the brideswealth was also essential. "e leader also had to make judicious use of his economic power to host various feasts to celebrate special events, such as the opening of a garden, a cur-ing ritual or war-related ceremonies, where many pigs were killed and distributed to the participants. Now, the feasts in many plac-es just mark various important dates in the Christian calendar. Just as important as spreading his wealth was the man’s abil-

ity to speak convincingly in the settlement of disputes. It was never a matter of a leader directly imposing his will: as Ellenberg-

"e Dani used long spears for close-range !ghting. As the spears were quite valuable, they were rarely thrown and reserved for close combat.


er wrote ‘Decisions, rather than being “handed down” are “dis-cussed down” resulting in a majority vote in which the minority by silence gives consent to the decision.’ When a potential war situation arose, the leader had to be able to speak convincingly enough to keep the impetuous young men from setting o# if the conditions or the o#enses did not warrant it, or if the group as a whole was not ready. "e leader would know that discussions should be allowed to go on, until the minority ceased objecting. While one path to leadership came through wealth, in several

highlands societies !ghting abilities could also bring the prestige necessary to in%uence. While many young men were fearless, ag-ile and clever !ghters, this was but one requirement. Strategic thinking, planning of a battle or a raid were also requirements for becoming a war leader. But being a leader this way, even if hav-

While warfare in the Papuan highland was a serious matter, with deaths, there were always an element of display and insults hurled back and forth between opposing parties. (Photo Steiger)


ing killed many of the enemy, was not enough. Just as wealth by itself was insu$cient to become a Big Man, other qualities came into play before any group conceded a leadership position to an individual.

NEW FORMS OF LEADERSHIP

We !nd two new forms of leadership in the highlands today, co-existing with the much-diminished traditional one. Both of the new forms require knowledge of the Indonesian language, and adaptability to change. "e preparation for these new positions often begins when a man is quite young, with his participation in the formal schooling system. With the arrival of Christianity and the end of most tribal !ght-

ing, leadership in the highlands began to shift to church hierar-chy. Western missionaries trained young men after they accepted the new religion. "is training consisted of an understanding of the Gospels and the ability to preach skillfully in terms under-standable to their fellows. Older men very seldom were able and willing to undergo this process. Missions gave alternate leader-ship opportunities to those young men with a low stake in tradi-tional politics. Some of the young men became preachers, setting up their own congregations, in line with evangelical concepts of independent churches. A body of church elders, some of who might have been traditional leaders, supported the local preach-ers. When the Indonesian political structure was imposed on the

traditional leadership, the government chose village headmen. ("e Indonesian concept of ‘village’ applies to an area, not just the central settlement.) "e village chiefs were chosen due to


their ability to speak Indonesian and relative loyalty and docility. "ey are paid a monthly wage. "eir status is on the rise, but they are far from being always accepted as top leaders. In an e#ort to recognize the ‘real’ leaders, the government has also appointed in another position the ‘kepala suku’ (literally meaning ‘chief of ethnic group’, a traditional leader), sometimes choosing the right person, sometimes not.

WARFARE

"is section deals only with ‘Papuan versus Papuan’ warfare. It does not cover !ghting the Dutch colonial power. Papuans quickly learned that is was impossible to !ght those who con-trolled !rearms. Among the Me in the Paniai area, the !rst to be ‘paci!ed’ in the highlands, this process took the lives of some 200 men. Nowhere else were there killings to this extent. For all other groups, one or two deaths were enough to convince them not to mess violently with the white man. We must also remember that the ease of paci!cation in many areas was due to an incomplete understanding of the long-term changes that would result. Once the practice of tribal warfare started, wars could not be

stopped, as societies that established stationary populations by other means than male supremacist warfare were routed and de-stroyed by their more aggressive neighbors. Where politics cen-tered upon Big Men, these leaders struggled to maintain their unstable leadership by inducing their fellows to !ght in wars, which weakens their rivals’ communities and so diminished their threats to their authority and domination. In many PNG societ-ies, the initiation rituals were long, di$cult and painful. "is was meant to make warriors out of the boys. Yet in other societies


where war was endemic, male initiation was either absent of quite benign. Some of these causes apply to Papua, but by and large, no single theory can account for warfare. "e only common and stated reasons for !ghting was that it was necessary for revenge, and so that a very few men could acquire power and prestige that led to leadership status.Tribal warfare was practiced to various degrees throughout the

Papuan highlands. While most ‘formal battles’ stopped by the 1970s, !ghting still continues in some areas, but on a much re-duced scale. "ere are still revenges to be settled, even from past generations. Violent deaths require killing to ‘even up the score’. On the PNG side of the border, peace was enforced by Australian patrol o$cers backed by a small number of police with !rearms. Since independence and no more patrol o$cers, the police have

Warfare was the way of life in the highlands until it was stopped by missionaries and Dutch-led police. Di#erent skills became more important in modern Papua, although tribal warfare still occurs occasionally. . (Photo Steiger)


been unable or unwilling to stop much of the resurgent tribal warfare in the highlands. And now !rearms are used, leading to a very di#erent kind of !ghting from what was practiced in the days when only traditional weapons were used. "e intensity, size and frequency of battles varied considerably

in the Papuan highlands. We have only seen published accounts of Dani, Lani and Yali warfare. We know little about the other groups’ warfare. Perhaps smaller groups, living in very rugged ar-eas, such as the Ok and the Amungme, did not !ght in set formal battles, being hampered by terrain and forest. "e main causes for warfare were revenge for past killings, in-

sults, accusations of sorcery, pigs breaking into gardens and the abduction of women. It was very seldom that tribal warfare in the Papuan highlands was directed at acquiring more land, except

Young Yali boys’ games often revolved around building up skills later necessary during tribal warfare. Skills with bows and arrows were essential to adult men. (Photo Koch)


occasionally and in a very few areas with high population pres-sure that translated into the need for more garden areas. Or when there were disputes over an area with a valuable food resource, such as pandanus groves. Men needed !ghting to become prominent. Various authors,

mostly writing about PNG, give us many basic reasons for high-lands warfare. "ese include male supremacy, population con-trol, increasingly starchy diets, integration and intensi!cation of kinship or group ties, ecology, and land pressures, especially in PNG after land for subsistence crops was planted with co#ee or used for pastures. Most of the warfare was directed at members of one’s own lan-

guage group and were never, as in the outside world, to impose an ideology (religious or political). While the Lani and the Baliem Valley Dani could muster quite large !ghting forces running to hundreds of men, most other warrior groups were much smaller, a few dozen being a more usual number. Two types of battles were included in the former Papuan high-

land wars. "ere were large-scale !ghts between large groups of men, at a determined time and place and lasting a limited amount of time. "e !ght could be stopped if rain dampened the !ght-ing spirit or messed up elaborate personal decorations. Old men, women and children were o# limits in these battles. A couple of serious wounds or one death were usually were su$cient to call a halt to one of these battles. We have some splendid documenta-tion of these battles, in a !lm (Dead Birds) and a book (Gardens of War). Westerners were impressed with the spectacle that in a way resembled sport games in their own cultures. Another type of warfare, raids, was not at all splendid. "en all


members of the enemy group were fair game. Sometimes whole villages were overrun and many of those who could not %ee fast enough were mercilessly killed - although young women were often spared to become extra wives of the victors. However, some of the aspects of warfare considered by outsiders to be outrageous were seldom if ever practiced in the Papuan highlands. We have seen no references to headhunting and cannibalism was not fre-quent or widespread.Warfare was in the blood of the mountain Papuans and so it

remains, partially at least, to this day. For young and middle-aged men everywhere, war was a major preoccupation. "ey had to be prepared at any moment to take up their bows and arrows to re-pel an attacking group. Warfare was a part of ordinary life. It has been estimated that 28.5% of the Dani males (and 2.4% of the females) died bloody, unnatural deaths. As many of those men who died were young, this partially explains the high frequency of polygamy among older men among the Dani. In 1966, a sec-tion of the Baliem Valley saw a raid that resulted in one alliance losing 125 people, or 6.25 per cent of its population. "e at-tackers lost 20 men. But such large-scale devastations were rare. Among one group of Lani, warfare resulted in the deaths of an average of four persons a year. In the Ilaga Valley, between 1915 and 1960, there was a war on the average of every three years, but little loss of life. "e generally practice of polygamy took up too many young

women for older men, leaving too few women to marry all the young men. "us young men had to be killed in wars, and only those who survived could, eventually, obtain a wife. It seems that in most, if not all highlands societies, boys were favored over


girls, to the point that some practiced female infanticide. "e ‘production’ of young !ghting males was paramount. But not their ‘right’ to marry young. Fighting was an integral part of the highland societies, intimate-

ly tied to leadership, power, prestige and religion almost every-where, and, to varying lesser degrees, to economics, and initia-tion. So while in this section we look at warfare, remember to think also of it in the context of general social relationships. Let’s take in-law kinship and economics for example. While loy-

alty was based most often on residency and sometimes on clan membership, there were con%icts of interest when individuals from enemy sides had kinship or trade ties with each other. Of-ten these ties, which were to be resumed after the !ghting ceased,

Ambushes were the most frequent sources of deaths in the Papuan highlands wars. Anyone from the enemy side was then fair game: small children, old folks, and women. (Photos Koch)


had a mitigating in%uence on warfare, to the point where some men in opposing sides refused to target individual opponents, even in the heat of battle. Or, when a group was totally defeated and forced to abandon their hamlet, the refugees seeking protec-tion could invoke trade partners or marriage ties. If they stayed long enough, they changed their a$liation and were integrated into their hosts’ society, losing their previous identity. Potential mutual refugee sites were insured through economic exchanges, marriages and reciprocal gifts.Revenge, acquiring power and prestige were the main reasons

for the widespread warfare. While looting (and rape) did occur, material considerations were not a dominant motive for !ghting. ‘Keep your enemies and !ght them another day’ might have been a subconscious motto. Battles with enemies were expected to re-

When possible, Yali warriors brought back their dead. Leaving them might mean they would be eaten by the enemy. (Photos Koch)


cur. But not only battles: large ceremonial exchanges with them might well also happen. But then in a peaceful context. Large payments could settle war deaths, formerly with pigs and

shells, today, pigs and rupiahs. But war leaders made most of the death-payments to the family of the deceased of their own allies and core groups, not to the enemies. And deaths had to be avenged in order to appease the spirits of the ancestors as well as that of the deceased. In the Baliem Valley, it was believed that famine and sickness would result if wars were not undertaken for the ancestors, especially those who had died in battles. Con%ict resolution between enemy groups was seldom prac-

ticed in the highlands. What was important was to resolve any con%icts within one’s clan, fellow hamlet residents or blood rela-tives. "en, to a lesser extent, there were attempts to resolve out-standing problems with current or potential allies. But, unless both sides considered the current !ghting was enough, no e#ort was directed at making peace with other large groups of current or potential enemies.

WEAPONS

Weapon technology did not evolve, even with so much !ghting going on. Bows and arrows were the main weapons, and as the arrows were sharp but not feathered, their accuracy was severely limited by distance. Most arrows were !red in an overhead arc at the enemy, easy enough to dodge by the %eet-footed men. Long, heavy spears were deadly, but only at very close range. Body pro-tection was limited to plaited rattan vests, and shields were some-times used in the eastern highlands, but not in the Sibil Valley. In recent times, we know of at least one instance where, in a !ght


between two groups who had never before used shields, the use of plywood, stolen from a mining company as shields by one side resulted in their victory. "e losers considered this most ‘unfair’. Black palm wood is the best choice for the making of bows. "e

bowstrings are of rattan. "e shaping of the bows is a delicate af-fair, to come up with the slight curvature and the varying width along the length of the bow. Stone tools, held by the stone rather than the handle for greater accuracy, gave the general shape to the bow, while shell or pig tusk scarpers served for the !nal !n-ishing. "e light cane shafts of arrows were made of sti# grasses. Arrowheads, made of hard woods, were inserted into the shaft. War arrows were tipped with sharpened bamboo or with short, backward pointed spikes making arrows di$cult to pull out once they had entered %esh. Arrow tips were glued with sticky tree saps and bound with rattan. Occasionally, clubs and adzes were used in close !ghting. Magic was an important component of warfare. While this ap-

plied to individual weapons, far more emphasis was placed on seeking the help of ancestral spirits in helping their descendants. When thinking about this, consider that in warfare as practiced by Christian Europeans, each side invoked the same God in seek-ing His help to assure victory.

RESURGENCE OF FIGHTING IN POST&INDEPENDENCE PNG

Aside from the government’s exclusive use of !rearms in colo-nial times, other factors helped to eliminate !ghting. Traditional goods were (mostly) no longer needed, thus stopping the friendly trade networks that had helped in controlling warfare. Feasting with participation of past or potential enemies involved the ex-


change of pork that transformed aggression into friendliness. "us the former ‘feasting on’ my enemy became ‘feasting with’ my enemy. "e end of trading led to a dramatic reduction of inter-tribal

marriages as potential spouses met during trading. "is had sig-ni!cant implications for relations between autonomous groups who were potentially enemies. And the access to western goods was also important. As a man from the Enga group in PNG said: ‘We stopped !ghting because we did not want to lose the source of beads, salt, steel axes…we followed the kiaps [Australian pa-trol o$cers], so previously important trade relations no longer needed to be kept up’. Where there were con%icts over land, the Australian govern-

ment froze boundaries as they existed then warfare was prohib-

Victory dances marked the death of an enemy. Depending on the relations between opposing groups, the body of an enemy was sometimes eaten or returned entire to his kin. (Photo Koch)


ited. Problems of land ownership, along with other items such as delayed revenge, long dormant, resurfaced after independence. Even before independence, there were problems of insu$cient land for subsistence crops as co#ee trees and pastures for livestock took land previous used for sweet potatoes and other staples. And a fair amount of land had been taken out of gardening areas for landing strips, buildings, roads and other infrastructure. "e colonial power era also saw a partial decline in ‘attack and

cannibalistic witchcraft’ where people believed that deaths were caused by supernatural, witch-directed magic with the sorceress gradually ‘eating’ the body of her victim until death. "ese types of witchcraft were (and still are) seen as alternatives to warfare, or as forms of supernatural warfare themselves. Attribution of

Successful warfare meant one or more enemy killed. But the winners knew that the losers would eventually try to even the score. (Photo Koch)


deaths to sorcerers or witches was actually a common post-con-tact development in many areas of Papua as indiscriminate pay-back killings or tribal wars became forbidden. "e local Chris-tian churches had forbidden the use of traditional methods of divination to seek out and punish witches. But these injunctions lost their power after independence. In 1996, after the dramatic deaths by !re of two young men, two women, accused of causing their deaths by witchcraft, were driven out of the community. "e women’s kin were forced to pay compensation to the relatives of the two dead men. Assault sorcery is closely related with notions of warfare and

is therefore likely to %ourish when community spaces de!ned by warfare have lost their de!nition because of paci!cation. If caught, a sorcerer’s body was dishonored and abused before being returned to home village, in the same way as might happen to a war casualty. "e assault sorcerer can devastate the community from the outside while the witch can destroy it by ‘eating’ victims from within the community. Sorcery of both types has become increasingly frequent in post-independence PNG, sometimes causing recent warfare. After nearly 25 years of peace in PNG under colonial rule, !ght-

ing resumed in the post-independence period. Due to this, a State of Emergency had to be declared for !ve Highland provinces. In the Eastern Highlands province by 1978 violence reached a level that police could no longer control. A psychological insecurity surrounded the political independence from Australia combined with disappointment with the slow speed of development and the relaxation of government control that had suppressed !ght-ing since paci!cation. "e resumption of warfare was due to seri-

While the Baliem Valley Dani cremated their dead, the bodies of famous chiefs were preserved as mummies by smoke-curing them in a men’s house. "us the spirit of the powerful deceased would help his kinfolk in warfare and general prosperity.


ous matters such as sorcery or land disputes, pitting large groups against each other, when the courts and mediators were unable come up with satisfactory judgments. In 1979, during the !rst 6 months of the year there were 56 clan !ghts with 44 killed, 264 wounded. Between 1980 and 1983, !ghting resulted in 423 dead and millions of dollars worth of damage. "e resurgence of overt physical violence was the result of the

dismantling of the powers of the colonial government’s patrol o$cers and their dissipation into a supposedly rational bureau-cratic structure. "e highlands experienced the loss of sanctions associated with indigenous religions and the inability of Christian missions to !ll the gap so created. During pre-independence, the colonial government o$cials were chosen and paid, represent-ing the government’s interests and concerns to the people, but in no way depended on them for continuity of their employment. "e departure of the colonial power created an administrative gap, without the clear lines of authority that the Papuans had depended on to manage their con%icts. In post-colonial times, politicians, have to favor their electors

and use their local support for raising issues at the national level. And these politicians are among the most important suppliers of guns because guns buy votes. "e voters receive money, vehicles, and business opportunities in return for supporting politicians. "e national politicians have access to discretionary ‘slush’ funds for stimulating local development and services. But there is local resistance to nationally planned development activities. Legiti-macy is claimed from the bottom and the national government does not have this legitimacy. Another post-independence problem is that of the ‘raskols’, the


pidgin word for ‘rascals’. "ese are young, educated or semi-educated males who band on local clan basis or through ethnic or interethnic alliances, then gain access to weapons through the sale of marijuana. As there are insu$cient jobs in the formal economy, they specialize in car thefts, highway robbery, house and shop break-ins, murder and rape. At !rst, they operated in all urban centers, and then quickly realized the potential of hold-ups on major Highland highways. Jealousy of another’s success in the competitive game of wealth has lead to murder or sorcery. Criminal gangs merged with rich PNG business-men, either preying on or living symbiotically with them. "e ‘raskols’ are seen as a blow to political legitimacy of control by the state.

QUESTIONSWhat were the requirements of leadership in the traditional highlands? How could a man become a leader? Why was !ghting ability not the only requirement for leadership? Do you think that the new types of leadership as e$cient as the old ones? Have you ever made a bow and arrows? If so, describe how you did it. Do you know anyone who actually took part in a war? If so, ask them to tell you about it.What were the main reasons for warfare in the highlands? Describe the two main types of !ghting. Why did tribal wars start again in PNG after independence?


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Highlands of Papua