ART AND WAR
In the _Principles of Sociology_ Mr. Spencer has devoted some of his
most forcible paragraphs to a treatment of the social influences of
war. By adducing and comparing with each other types of social life
among different tribes, he has been able to show how military customs
everywhere tend to reduce the individual liberty and strengthen the
central power.[415] Many other writers on sociology have perceived
and commented on the truism that the internal coherence of tribes
has been chiefly produced by the need of combination for defensive
purposes.[416] But perhaps sufficient attention has not been paid to
the share which art has had in the development of those peculiarities
which are common to all military nations. And yet as a means of
facilitating tribal unity of action and feeling, music and dance must
be of exceptional sociological importance in warlike communities.[417]
We shall therefore meet with highly developed choral dances in those
nations in whose life war is a customary occurrence. The North
American Indians,[418] as well as the Dahomeyans,[419] are noted for
the soldier-like regularity of their dances. But nowhere among the
lower tribes of mankind is the time-sense so refined as among the
pre-eminently warlike Maori. Notwithstanding the furious movements in
their war dances, the gesticulation of all the participants is always
uniform and regular.[420] According to Cruise the very slightest
motions of their fingers are simultaneous;[421] and, if we are to
believe Mr. Bidwill, even their eyes all move together.[422] Highly
accomplished dancers as are certain other Polynesian tribes[423] less
warlike than the Maori, it will be admitted that such a pitch of more
than Prussian precision would never have been attained if it were not
for its military advantages. To the same cause one is also tempted
to ascribe the regularity of the Kaffir dances,[424] which by their
choral character stand in so marked a contrast to the amusements of the
neighbour tribe, the peaceful Hottentots, among whom every dancer acts
“separately for himself.”[425]
It is evident that a regular co-operation in fighting is effectually
promoted by rhythmical music. And we do in fact find that music,
especially instrumental music, at the lower stages of development is
closely connected with war.[426] It is, however, more natural to assume
that military music, and similarly military poetry and dance, have had
their chief importance not as regulating but as stimulating influences.
There are many tribes which seem quite unable to observe any kind of
military discipline. But even in the undeveloped and unmethodical
warfare of the lowest savages, music, songs, and dances have been used
as means of infusing courage and strength. The psychology of these
military stimuli is of course the same as that of industrial art. But
the general principles appear with far greater clearness when applied
to this peculiar kind of activity.
First of all, the need of stimulation is never so great as when a man
has to risk his life in an open battle. If in work he has to overcome
his natural inertia, laziness, he has here to overcome the still
stronger obstacle of fear. Contrary to the romantic notions of popular
literature, primitive man seems to be timorous rather than brave
when not encouraged by adventitious excitement.[427] This cowardice
can, however, to a great extent be explained by defective military
organisation. Where the mutual support which the well-drilled soldiers
of a regular army render each other is lacking, the need of personal
courage is of course so much the greater. Civilised warfare tries to
avoid the conflict between the instinct of self-preservation and of a
soldier’s duty by the pressure of strict discipline; savage warfare,
which cannot count on the same forces of submission and mental control,
is compelled to minimise this conflict by deadening the consciousness
of peril. Hence the indispensability of some means of producing violent
excitement by which the necessary forgetfulness of danger and death may
be attained.[428]
Apart from the influence of fear, the task of slaughter is one which,
from its very nature, cannot be performed in cold blood. Even where
the element of danger is absent, as when unarmed foes are killed or
tortured, the savage executioners do not generally get to work straight
away. As soon as a beginning has been made, a sort of intoxication
will indeed be produced by mental as well as physical agencies, such
as the sight of blood or the pride of conquest. But this intoxication,
so eagerly desired by savages in civilised as well as in primitive
communities, cannot be produced even in the lowest tribes of man
without a preliminary working up. The passion of cruelty, like that of
love, is, in its higher and more ecstatic forms, too overwhelming in
its mental effects to be attained without an artificial enhancement of
psychical capacity. But whereas the erotic feelings tend with growing
development to become more and more a private matter, cruelty is among
warlike tribes an emotion of national importance. The incitement to
slaughter is therefore apt to become social—that is, common to several
individuals at once. This is one of the reasons why war is of so much
greater importance than love as a motive for tribal art.
There are some tribes in which the soldiers try to acquire courage and
thirst for blood by magical expedients, such as smearing themselves
with some powerful unguent, or eating the raw meat of a newly
slaughtered ox.[429] Sometimes a joint tattooing of the whole corps
with a common pattern is undertaken, most probably for the same magical
purpose.[430] But however effectually such ceremonies may be supposed
to operate, savages do not generally put so much trust in them as to
give up their favourite means of stimulation—music and dancing. In
people who sincerely believe in their own magic any rite will of course
arouse increased confidence and courage. But this suggestive influence
is only indirect in comparison with the immediate psychological effects
of inciting dances.
Popular novels have familiarised us all with the weird war dances
which play such an important part in the warfare of the North American
Indians. In its main features this type of pantomimic incitement is the
same everywhere—among the African and Oceanic tribes as well as among
the savage nations described in classic literature.[431] By imitating
the movements of a real fight, by exulting cries, deafening noise, and
brandishing of weapons, the dancers work themselves up to a pitch of
frenzy which cannot be compared to anything but a transient madness.
Especially among the nations of America war dances often arouse so much
excitement, even when performed during times of perfect peace, that
they become dangerous to friendly and peaceful onlookers.[432] Here
also—just as in the Hungarian “Enlistment”—dancing is used as a means
of enticing men to join the ranks of the war chief who wants recruits
for some war-expedition.[433]
It is evident that the influence of such pantomimes is not restricted
to a generalised stimulation and encouragement. These sham fights,
just as the sportive imitations of work, must facilitate the execution
of those movements which they imitate. And even those who do not join
the dance will profit by watching the evolutions which they themselves
will afterwards be called on to perform in reality. Thus there may
originally have been a very utilitarian reason for the curious warfare
of the Headhunters of Ceram, who always have the Jakalele dance
performed in front of their fighting line. It is pathetic to read that
even in their wars with the Dutchmen a few fantastically dressed
dancers head the advance against the repeating guns of the European
force.[434]
This fact, which is certainly not without its parallels in other savage
tribes, gives the most convincing proof of the indispensability of
pantomimic stimulation to savage warfare. Although less intimately
connected with fighting itself, poetry has had for war an importance
which can scarcely be estimated at a much lower rate. Words, of course,
can never provoke such a direct and almost physiological stimulation as
the imitation of actions. But words, on the other hand, have a greater
effect on the mind. The suggestive power of the war songs is also
attested by the descriptions of travellers among various tribes. In
Australia, for instance, four or five mischievously inclined old women
can soon stir up forty or fifty men to any deed of blood by means of
their chants, which are accompanied by tears and groans, until the men
are worked into a perfect state of frenzy.[435] “The savage blood of
the Ahts always boiled when the war songs were recited, their fingers
worked convulsively on the paddles, and their eyes gleamed ferociously;
altogether they were two hundred murderous-looking villains.”[436]
In Ashanti and in New Zealand—in short, amongst all the most warlike
tribes—the military singers are able to bring themselves and their
audience up to a pitch of frenzy which is almost equal to that produced
by the dances.[437]
In one of the preceding chapters we have already pointed out how
invaluable a support historic art has given to national pride. This
feeling, on the other hand, is never so indispensable as in time of
war. Wherever a tribe has any traditions of its past history, such
traditions are always revived and recited to the soldiers before and
during the battles.[438] And if a people has no glorious ancestors
to boast of, it can none the less gain the necessary confidence by
glorifying its own valour and reviling its enemies. Even tribes like
the Bakairis, for example, are thus able to “sing themselves full of
courage” in boasting and defiant exultation.[439]
According to competent observers, such songs are more particularly
employed when the natives are afraid.[440] The expression of bravery,
even if originally affected, must necessarily awaken some real
feeling of pride or confidence. Contempt, on the other hand, however
laboriously worked up, is the most effectual means of preserving
equanimity under the stress of depressing feelings, admiration, envy,
or fear. Songs and pantomimes, such as, for instance, those with which
the Polynesians invariably begin their battles, must therefore have a
great power of emboldening the warriors.[441] And while such outward
shows of valour enable the performers to reconquer their courage, the
enemy is intimidated by these manifestations of a feeling which is as
yet incipient within themselves. In warfare, where the hostile armies
stand within sight and hearing of each other, this consideration must
of course be of extreme importance.
It seems, indeed, as if natural selection had developed in man an
almost instinctive tendency to overcome fear by simulating the
expressions proper to valour and menace. Just as animals, when
frightened, make themselves bigger and more formidable to their
enemies, whether from fear or anger we know not, so man tries to
awaken fear in the enemy confronting him at the same time, and by the
same means, as he vanquishes his own fear. This appears with especial
clearness in wars between savage races, where both sides often seem
to be as timid as they try to appear formidable and courageous. Their
threats and boastings are terrifying enough, but the real fights are
very bloodless and free from danger. Among the Cammas “the words really
seem to do more damage than the blows.”[442] The gallant game of bluff
is in primitive politics not restricted to diplomatic negotiations;
it plays an important part in the actual fighting. This remains true
even with regard to tribes which are capable of real courage, not only
in stealthy assault, but also in open battle. The Maorian military
pantomimes afford the best example of such a manifestation, which not
only stimulates the warriors to fight and regulates their movements
in the battle, but also, as a European traveller has been compelled
to admit, “strikes terror into the heart of any man.”[443] In this
case the terrible effect is further strengthened by the hideous
grimaces, rolling of the eyes, protruding of the tongue, and so on,
with which the warriors accompany their dance.[444] So important is
this distortion of the countenance considered by the Maoris, that
instruction in the art of grimacing forms a part in their military
education.[445] The most warlike of savage tribes thus does not
despise the naïve expedient which constitutes almost the sole means
of self-defence among peaceful Eskimos.[446] And so highly do the
Maoris appreciate the terrifying effects of the protruded tongue,
that they carve the grimace upon their spears, the “hanis,” evidently
in the belief that such representations will—perhaps by some magic
power—demoralise the enemy.[447]
This pictorial pantomime brings us to the employment of formative arts
in war. To some extent even painting, especially in its decorative
branches, may be considered as a means of exhortation. The various
decorations of the body which are usually adopted for fighting no
doubt raise the courage of their wearers. A festival dress, when
assumed for battle—for example, by the Khonds—must needs bring with
it a light and festive mood.[448] The red colour, so often used in
military dress, tends, on the other hand, to arouse increased vigour
by direct physiological as well as by associative action.[449] Perhaps
also, as some old authors suggest, the use of red may have had a
negative importance by concealing the wounds and the blood, which else
might depress the men and encourage their enemies.[450] Like every
beautiful thing, highly ornamented weapons will afford their owners
an invigorating feeling of pride, which, however,—to judge from the
unheroic character of many tribes whose weapons are most gorgeously
decorated,—does not seem to be of any great military advantage.[451]
Military ensigns, such as banners, standards, and the like, will
naturally, as outward symbols of the tribe, exercise an exciting
influence on the warriors. Even for barbarous nations, with their
undeveloped feelings of patriotism, in the modern sense of the word,
a flag may represent _la patrie en marche_. Well knowing the moral
value of these apparently unimportant things, the Aztecs employed in
their army men whose only task was “to remove from the eyes of the
enemy every object that could heighten their courage and inflame their
pride.”[452]
The importance of field badges is of course increased when, as
generally is the case, they are adorned with some religious or magical
representation. Be it a tutelar saint, a heathen god, or simply a totem
animal, which is depicted, these images will always be relied upon as
a strong support to the army.[453] The marvellous tales of assistance
afforded by idols which have been carried in the front of battle may
of course have some real foundation in the encouraging mental effects
produced upon the warriors.
It thus appears that ornaments, painting, and sculpture have been
of no small influence in enhancing the fighting powers of warlike
nations. Among the lower tribes of man these arts are, however, on the
whole much more appreciated as means of frightening the enemy. As was
mentioned in a preceding chapter, some bodily deformations are, if
we may believe the natives, undertaken solely for this purpose.[454]
Other warlike tribes endeavour to make themselves dreaded by their
enemies by staining their bodies with ghastly colours, blood-red,
azure, or black. Tattooing may, of course, often aim at the same end.
And among the detached ornaments there is an especial class—for which
the German ethnologists have invented the characteristic designation
“Schreckschmuck”—which are only worn in order to make the appearance
more frightful. The war helmets of the Thlinkeets[455] and the curious
tooth masks of the Papuas are the most typical specimens of this
pre-eminently warlike decoration.[456]
The highest development of art as a means of terrifying is, however, to
be found in the decorated shields of the Dyaks. No form of pictorial
threat could be more effectual than the devices which ornament the face
of these ghastly weapons. A grinning mouth, with sharp tusks in either
jaw, is always to be found in the middle of the shield. Above it stand
a pair of staring, circular eyes, usually surrounded by dark and light
concentric rings. Sometimes also there is a highly simplified outline
of the lower parts of the body. The trunk is completely ignored,
and arms and legs are quite swamped in a bewilderment of entangled
lines, which extend over the whole surface of the shield. But in this
ornamentation the warlike motive is repeated over and over again.
Tusks protrude from the scrolls, and big round eyes stare menacingly
out between them. Thus even the decorative “padding” (Einfüllung)
operates as a multiplied expression of defiant menace. As an eloquent
commentary on this text the whole shield is furthermore hung with tufts
of human hair,—trophies of vanquished enemies,—which partly conceal
the brown, red, and black design.[457] The whole composition, which
in a description may seem merely bizarre and brutal, is, however,
executed with a severe symmetry and a wild grace which afford a most
peculiar contrast to the weird motive. By these æsthetic qualities the
ornamentation acquires an art-value which is quite independent of its
supposed military advantages. One can indeed easily understand that the
savage foes of the Dyaks may be paralysed with terror when confronted
in battle with those glaring eyes and menacing jaws. But even the
civilised observer who examines at his ease the shields which stand in
the glass cases of ethnological collections must needs be impressed by
their power. Though they do not frighten us, they are not, as might
be expected, mere examples of ridiculous grimace. They still extort
our admiration for that weird kind of beauty which, in primitive art
as well as in animal warning colorationn, is so often found in close
connection with the feelings of terror.
We have deemed it profitable to dwell at some length on these
remarkable products of savage decorative art. The demon shields of
the Dyaks, in spite of the fact that their motives have evidently
been borrowed from Chinese and Indian art,[458] are eminently
representative of the nation and its social _milieu_. These wild men of
the woods have been able to express in their ornamental composition,
better than would have been possible in any higher form of art, all
the intense feelings of their wild romantic life. The terror and
intoxication of slaughter, as they are experienced in a tribe for
which furtive murder is the holiest of all religious actions, speak
their violent language in the glaring patterns. But at the same time
the elegant design, which is so characteristic a peculiarity of the
shields, as well as of every other specimen of Dyak art, corresponds
to the graceful and elegant personal appearance which, according to
the unanimous verdict of all travellers, distinguishes these fierce
savages.[459] And it seems as if this gracefulness, no less than the
weird emotional content of the pictures, may be derived from the custom
of head-hunting. The continuous insecurity which has given its own
character even to the Dyak architecture[460] has of course not been
without its influence on the physical development of the tribe itself.
Where assault from insidious enemies is always to be expected, and
where the type of fighting is single combat, lightness and suppleness
of movement must be indispensable for the struggle for existence. We
can, therefore, easily understand how these people have acquired that
natural grace which similar utilitarian causes have developed among
all mountainous animals, and among most beasts of prey.[461] Nor is
it difficult to comprehend that this beauty of the human body, once
called into existence by natural selection, must have awakened æsthetic
attention to form and grace, and thus indirectly influenced even the
manifestations of ornamental art.
If it be objected that such sociological explanations of decorative
patterns are too far-fetched, we at once refer to the marvellous Maori
ornaments, in which the temperament of another warlike tribe has found
a most characteristic expression. Like the fantastic convolutions on
the Dyak shields, the flaming scrolls of black and red which extend
over the ceilings and walls of the Maori houses unmistakably attest
their origin from a nation which war has made violent, vigorous, and
intensely energetic.[462] Generally speaking, it may be futile to seek
for any differentiated expressional qualities in such an impersonal
and unemotional art as that of linear ornament. But in face of these
powerful designs even the most neutral observer will be struck with
the strong emotional exaltation which has here found a vent, not in
words, or sounds, or images, but in pure lines and colours. Such mighty
strokes, so full of life and agitation, could never have been drawn by
any peaceful and quiet natives. The velocity and the wild inspiration
of these patterns are only possible in a nation which has experienced
in continuous fights an ever-repeated state of high-strung emotional
excitement.
The more official Maori decorative art, the Moko, as well as the Maori
sculpture, probably because of their close connection with religion,
are too rigid in their traditional character to admit of any strongly
pronounced emotional content. But the influence of warlike exaltation
has instead made itself felt in the poetical productions of the race.
And, as has already been pointed out, but for the military type of life
dancing could not have reached so marvellous a degree of development.
Owing to the more organised character of Maori warfare, military
customs do not, as among the Dyaks, aim chiefly at producing suppleness
and graceful movements in the individual. But one has only to read the
enthusiastic descriptions of the painter Earle in order to realise
the influence which military customs have even here exercised on the
development of plastic beauty.[463]
The Dyaks and Maoris are but two of the most typical among savage
tribes whose artistic productions have grown up under the auspices
of war. For a complete account of art in its connection with war it
would be necessary to dwell on the war songs of the North American
Indians,[464] to give some account of the art-style which is found
in the military despotisms of Western Africa,[465] and to describe
in detail the poetry which has been called into existence by the
continuous tribal feuds of the North African nomadic hordes.[466] In
its broad aspects, however, the æsthetic importance of war will, we
hope, appear with sufficient clearness from the cursory review which
has been given above.
We have seen that war, as the hardest form of the struggle for life,
has needed, more than any other kind of work, the support which
æsthetic stimulation affords to practical activities. And the art which
has developed under its influence has, to a greater degree than is
usual in primitive production, fulfilled the conditions of emotional
community and emotional intensity. Moreover, the requirements of
fighting have called forth æsthetic qualities of power and gracefulness
in the physical type which seem to be reflected even in artistic
creation. Thus the art-production of military tribes has everywhere,
independently of racial and climatic influences, acquired some common
qualities; their decorative arts, as well as their poetry and dramatic
dances, are always characterised by an intense and forcible life, which
is often combined with dignified power and graceful elegance.
All these are, of course, only restricted merits, which correspond to
some striking deficiencies. It is easily understood that art-life in
a military state of society always tends to be circumscribed within
the narrow boundaries of tribal sympathy. It may also be pointed out,
at least as a curious and significant coincidence, that descriptive
and figurative art, in the sense of realistic, faithful rendering of
nature and life, has never attained any high development among the
most military tribes. Such a sympathetic interest in the picturesque
qualities of the human and animal body as that which characterises
the art of the prehistoric European cave-dwellers, the Bushmen, and
the Eskimo, does not seem compatible with the customs of war. In
this connection it is not our business to estimate critically the
comparative importance of these merits and deficiencies: we have only
to point out the undeniable significance which, from an historical
point of view, must be accorded to war as a factor in the development
of art.