Chapter 2
Totemic Beliefs (continued): The Totemic Animal and Humans
But totemic images are not the only sacred things. There are real things which are also the object of rites, because of the relations which they have with the totem: before all others, are the beings of the totemic species and the members of the clan.
But totemic images are not the only sacred things. Real things are also the objects of rites because of their connection to the totem. Above all, these include members of the totemic species and members of the clan.
I
I
First of all, since the designs which represent the totem arouse religious sentiments, it is natural that the things whose aspect these designs reproduce should have this same property, at least to a certain degree.
First, designs representing the totem arouse religious feelings. So it is natural that the things depicted in these designs should also arouse religious feelings, at least to some degree.
For the most part, these are animals or plants. The profane function of vegetables and even of animals is ordinarily to serve as food; then the sacred character of the totemic animal or plant is shown by the fact that it is forbidden to eat them. It is true that since they are sacred things, they can enter into the composition of certain mystical repasts, and we shall see, in fact, that they sometimes serve as veritable sacraments; yet normally they cannot be used for everyday consumption. Whoever oversteps this rule, exposes himself to grave dangers. It is not that the group always intervenes to punish this infraction artificially; it is believed that the sacrilege produces death automatically. A redoubtable principle is held to reside in the totemic plant or animal, which cannot enter into the profane organism without disorganizing it or destroying it. In certain tribes at least, only the old men are free from this prohibition; we shall see the reason for this later.
For the most part, these are animals or plants. The ordinary, profane use of plants and even animals is as food. So the sacred character of the totemic animal or plant is shown by the ban on eating it. Because they are sacred, totemic animals and plants can be included in certain mystical meals. In fact, we shall see that they sometimes serve as true sacraments. But normally, they cannot be eaten as everyday food. Anyone who breaks this rule exposes themselves to serious dangers. The group does not always step in to punish the offense. Rather, the sacrilege is believed to cause death automatically. A fearsome power is thought to reside in the totemic plant or animal. It cannot enter a profane body without disrupting or destroying it. In some tribes at least, only old men are exempt from this ban. We shall see the reason for this later.
See the cases in Taplin, The Narrinyeri, p. 63. See also Howitt, Nat. Tr., pp. 146, 769. Fison and Howitt, Kamilaroi and Kurnai, p. 169. Roth, Superstition, Magic and Medicine, § 150. Wyatt, Adelaide and Encounter Bay Tribe, in Woods, p. 168. Meyer, ibid., p. 186.
This is true of the Warramunga (Nor. Tr., p. 168).
However, if this prohibition is formal in a large number of tribes—with certain exceptions which will be mentioned later—it is incontestable that it tends to weaken as the old totemic organization is disturbed. But the restrictions which remain even then prove that these attenuations are not admitted without difficulty. For example, when it is permitted to eat the plant or animal that serves as totem, it is not possible to do so freely; only a little bit may be taken at a time. To go beyond this amount is a ritual fault that has grave consequences. Elsewhere, the prohibition remains intact for the parts that are regarded as the most precious, that is to say, as the most sacred; for example, the eggs or the fat. In still other parts, consumption is not allowed except when the animal in question has not yet reached full maturity. In this case, they undoubtedly think that its sacred character is not yet complete. So the barrier which isolates and protects the totemic being yields but slowly and with active resistance, which bears witness to what it must have been at first.
However, this prohibition is strict in many tribes, with certain exceptions discussed later. The prohibition clearly tends to weaken as the old totemic organization is disrupted. But the restrictions that remain show that these relaxations are not easily accepted. For example, people may be allowed to eat the plant or animal that serves as their totem. But they cannot eat it freely. They may take only a little at a time. Eating more than that is a ritual offense with serious consequences. Elsewhere, the prohibition still applies to the parts considered most precious, and therefore most sacred, such as the eggs or fat. In other places, people may eat the animal only before it has fully matured. In these cases, they undoubtedly believe that its sacred character is not yet complete. So the barrier that isolates and protects the totemic being gives way slowly and with active resistance. This resistance shows how strong the barrier must have been at first.
For example, among the Warramunga, Urabunna, Wonghibon, Yuin, Wotjobaluk, Buandik, Ngeumba, and others.
Among the Kaitish, if a man eats too much of his clan’s totem, members of the other phratry perform a magic ritual intended to kill him (Nor. Tr., p. 284; cf. Nat. Tr., p. 204; Langloh Parker, The Euahlavi Tribe, p. 20).
Nat. Tr., p. 202, n. Strehlow, II, p. 58.
Nor. Tr., p. 173.
It is true that according to Spencer and Gillen these restrictions are not the remnants of what was once a rigorous prohibition now losing hold, but the beginnings of an interdiction which is only commencing to establish itself. These writers hold that at first there was a complete liberty of consumption and that the limitations which were presently brought are relatively recent. They think they find the proof of their theory in the two following facts. In the first place, as we just said, there are solemn occasions when the members of the clan or their chief not only may, but must eat the totemic animal or plant. Moreover, the myths relate that the great ancestors, the founders of the clans, ate their totems regularly: now, it is said, these stories cannot be understood except as an echo of a time when the present prohibitions did not exist.
It is true that Spencer and Gillen see these restrictions differently. They say the restrictions are not the remains of a once strict prohibition that is now losing force. Instead, they are the beginnings of a prohibition that is only just taking hold. These authors argue that at first people were completely free to consume their totems. They believe the restrictions introduced later are relatively recent. They think two facts support their theory. First, as we just noted, there are solemn occasions when clan members or their chief not only may eat the totemic animal or plant, but must do so. Also, the myths say that the great ancestors who founded the clans regularly ate their totems. Spencer and Gillen argue that these stories can only be understood as echoes of a time before the present prohibitions existed.
Nat. Tr., pp. 207 ff.
But the fact that in the course of certain solemn ceremonies a consumption of the totem, and a moderate one at that, is ritually required in no way implies that it was once an ordinary article of food. Quite on the contrary, the food that one eats at a mystical repast is essentially sacred, and consequently forbidden to the profane. As for the myths, a somewhat summary critical method is employed, if they are so readily given the value of historical documents. In general, their object is to interpret existing rites rather than to commemorate past events; they are an explanation of the present much more than a history. In this case, the traditions according to which the ancestors of the fabulous epoch ate their totem are in perfect accord with the beliefs and rites which are always in force. The old men and those who have attained a high religious dignity are freed from the restrictions under which ordinary men are placed: they can eat the sacred thing because they are sacred themselves; this rule is in no way peculiar to totemism, but it is found in all the most diverse religions. Now the ancestral heroes were nearly gods. It is therefore still more natural that they should eat the sacred food; but that is no reason why the same privilege should be awarded to the simple profane.
But some solemn ceremonies require people to eat a moderate amount of the totem as part of the ritual. This does not mean that the totem was once an ordinary food. Quite the contrary, food eaten at a mystical meal is sacred by nature and therefore forbidden to the profane. As for the myths, accepting them so readily as historical documents shows a rather superficial approach to criticism. In general, myths aim to interpret existing rites rather than commemorate past events. They explain the present much more than they recount history. In this case, the traditions say that the ancestors of the legendary age ate their totem. These traditions are entirely consistent with the beliefs and rites that are still in force. Old men and those who have attained high religious standing are exempt from the restrictions placed on ordinary men: they can eat the sacred thing because they themselves are sacred. This rule is not peculiar to totemism. It is found in all the most diverse religions. The ancestral heroes, moreover, were almost gods. It is therefore even more natural that they should eat the sacred food. But that is no reason to grant the same privilege to ordinary profane people.
See above, p. 128.
It is also worth remembering that in these myths, the ancestors are never portrayed as eating their totem regularly. On the contrary, eating their totem was the exception. According to Strehlow, their usual food was the same as that of the corresponding animal (see Strehlow, I, p. 4).
Also, this entire theory rests on a completely arbitrary assumption. Spencer, Gillen, and Frazer accept that the tribes of central Australia, especially the Arunta, represent the oldest and therefore purest form of totemism. We will soon explain why this assumption seems to us highly improbable. It is even likely that these authors would not have accepted their theory so readily if they had regarded totemism as a religion and had therefore understood the sacred character of the totem.
However, it is neither certain nor even probable that the prohibition was ever absolute. It seems to have always been suspended in case of necessity, as, for example, when a man is famished and has nothing else with which to nourish himself. A stronger reason for this is found when the totem is a form of nourishment which a man cannot do without. Thus there are a great many tribes where water is a totem; a strict prohibition is manifestly impossible in this case. However, even here, the privilege granted is submitted to certain restrictions which greatly limit its use and which show clearly that it goes against a recognized principle. Among the Kaitish and the Warramunga, a man of this totem is not allowed to drink water freely; he may not take it up himself; he may receive it only from the hands of a third party who must belong to the phratry of which he is not a member. The complexity of this procedure and the embarrassment which results from it are still another proof that access to the sacred thing is not free. This same rule is applied in certain central tribes every time that the totem is eaten, whether from necessity or any other cause. It should also be added that when this formality is not possible, that is, when a man is alone or with members of his own phratry only, he may, on necessity, do without an intermediary. It is clear that the prohibition is susceptible of various moderations.
However, it is neither certain nor even likely that the prohibition was ever absolute. It seems always to have been lifted in cases of necessity. For example, a starving man could eat his totem if he had nothing else to eat. There is even stronger reason to lift the prohibition when the totem is something a man cannot live without. In many tribes, for example, water is a totem. A strict prohibition is clearly impossible in this case. Even so, the permission to drink water is subject to restrictions that greatly limit its use. These restrictions clearly show that drinking it goes against an accepted principle. Among the Kaitish and the Warramunga, a man whose totem is water is not allowed to drink it freely. He may not take it himself. He may receive it only from someone who belongs to a different phratry. This complex and awkward procedure is further evidence that access to the sacred thing is restricted. In certain central tribes, the same rule applies whenever a totem is eaten, whether out of necessity or for another reason. When this formality is impossible, however, a man may do without an intermediary if necessary. This applies when he is alone or with members of his own phratry only. Clearly, the prohibition can be relaxed in various ways.
Taplin, The Narrinyeri, p. 64. Howitt, Nat. Tr., pp. 145 and 147. Spencer and Gillen, Nat. Tr., p. 202. Grey, loc. cit.. Curr, III, p. 462.
Nor. Tr., pp. 160, 167. It is not enough for the intermediary to belong to a different totem. As we shall see, every totem in a phratry is forbidden to some extent to members of that phratry who belong to a different totem.
Nevertheless, it rests upon ideas so strongly ingrained in the mind that it frequently survives its original cause for being. We have seen that in all probability, the different clans of a phratry are only subdivisions of one original clan which has been dismembered. So there was a time when all the clans, being welded together, had the same totem; consequently, wherever the souvenir of this common origin is not completely effaced, each clan continues to feel itself united to the others and to consider that their totems are not completely foreign to it. For this reason an individual may not eat freely of the totems held by the different clans of the phratry of which he is a member; he may touch them only if the forbidden plant or animal is given him by a member of the other phratry.
Nevertheless, it rests on ideas so deeply rooted in the mind that it often survives its original cause. We have seen that the different clans of a phratry are, in all probability, subdivisions of one original clan that split apart. There was therefore a time when all the clans were united and shared the same totem. So, wherever the memory of this common origin has not been completely erased, each clan still feels united to the others. Each clan also considers the other clans’ totems not entirely foreign to it. For this reason, a person may not freely eat the totems of the different clans in their phratry. They may touch a forbidden plant or animal only if a member of the other phratry gives it to them.
Nor. Tr., p. 167. We can now more easily explain why the other phratry avenges the sacrilege when a prohibition is broken (see above, p. 129, n. 2). The other phratry has an interest in seeing that the rule is followed. People believe that if the rule is broken, the totemic species may not reproduce abundantly. Members of the other phratry regularly consume this species, so they are the ones affected. That is why they take revenge.
Another survival of the same sort is the one concerning the maternal totem. There are strong reasons for believing that at first, the totem was transmitted in the uterine line. Therefore, wherever descent in the paternal line has been introduced, this probably took place only after a long period, during which the opposite principle was applied and the child had the totem of his mother along with all the restrictions attached to it. Now in certain tribes where the child inherits the paternal totem to-day, some of the interdictions which originally protected the totem of his mother still survive: he cannot eat it freely. In the present state of affairs, however, there is no longer anything corresponding to this prohibition.
Another survival of the same kind concerns the maternal totem. There are strong reasons to believe that totems were originally passed down through the mother’s line. Wherever descent through the father’s line was introduced, it probably came only after a long period of the opposite practice. During that period, a child received the mother’s totem and all the restrictions attached to it. In some tribes today, children inherit their father’s totem. Yet some of the prohibitions that originally protected their mother’s totem still survive: a child cannot freely eat it. Under present conditions, however, nothing corresponds to this prohibition anymore.
This is the case among the Loritja (Strehlow, II, pp. 60, 61), the Worgaia, the Warramunga, the Walpari, the Mara, the Anula and the Binbinga (Nor. Tr., pp. 166, 167, 171, 173). A Warramunga or a Walpari may eat it, but only when a member of the other phratry offers it. Spencer and Gillen remark (p. 167, n.), that paternal and maternal totems appear to be subject to different rules in this respect. In both cases, the offer must come from the other phratry. But in the case of the paternal totem, or the totem proper, the other phratry is the one to which the totem does not belong. For the maternal totem, the opposite is true. The principle was probably established first for the paternal totem, then mechanically extended to the maternal totem, though the situation was different. Once the rule was established that the prohibition protecting the totem could be set aside only at the invitation of the other phratry, it was also applied to the maternal totem.
To this prohibition of eating is frequently added that of killing the totem, or picking it, when it is a plant. However, here also there are exceptions and tolerations. These are especially in the case of necessity, when the totem is a dangerous animal, for example, or when the man has nothing to eat. There are even tribes where men are forbidden to hunt the animals whose names they bear, on their own accounts, but where they may kill them for others. But the way in which this act is generally accomplished clearly indicates that it is something illicit. One excuses himself as though for a fault, and bears witness to the chagrin which he suffers and the repugnance which he feels, while precautions are taken that the animal may suffer as little as possible.
The ban on eating the totem is often accompanied by a ban on killing it, or picking it if it is a plant. But here too there are exceptions and allowances. These occur especially in cases of necessity, for example, when the totem is a dangerous animal, or when a man has nothing to eat. In some tribes, men are forbidden to hunt the animals whose names they bear for themselves. But they may kill them for others. Still, the way this act is generally carried out makes clear that it is forbidden. The man excuses himself as if he had done something wrong. He expresses his distress and the repugnance he feels, while taking care to make the animal suffer as little as possible.
For example, among the Warramunga (Nor. Tr., p. 166), the Wotjobaluk, the Buandik, the Kurnai (Howitt, pp. 146 f.) and the Narrinyeri (Taplin, The Narrinyeri, p. 63).
Even this is not always true. An Arunta of the Mosquito totem must not kill a mosquito, even when it bothers him. He must only drive it away (Strehlow, II, p. 58; cf. Taplin, p. 63).
Among the Kaitish and the Unmatjera (Nor. Tr., p. 160). In some cases, an old man even gives one of his churinga to a young man of a different totem. He does this so the young man can kill the old man's totem more easily (ibid., p. 272).
Howitt, Nat. Tr., p. 146; Grey, op. cit., II, p. 228; Casalis, Basoutos, p. 221. Among the latter, "one must be purified after committing such a sacrilege."
Strehlow, II, pp. 58, 59, 61.
In addition to these fundamental interdictions, certain cases of a prohibition of contact between a man and his totem are cited. Thus among the Omaha, in the clan of the Elk, no one may touch any part of the body of a male elk; in the sub-clan of the Buffalo, no one is allowed to touch the head of this animal. Among the Bechuana, no man dares to clothe himself in the skin of his totem. But these cases are rare; and it is natural that they should be exceptional, for normally a man must wear the image of his totem or something which brings it to mind. The tattooings and the totemic costumes would not be possible if all contact were forbidden. It has also been remarked that this prohibition has not been found in Australia, but only in those societies where totemism has advanced far from its original form; it is therefore probably of late origin and due perhaps to the influence of ideas that are really not totemic at all.
Besides these basic prohibitions, there are cases in which a man is forbidden to touch his totem. Among the Omaha, for example, no one in the Elk clan may touch any part of a male elk’s body. In the Buffalo sub-clan, no one may touch the animal’s head. Among the Bechuana, no man dares to wear the skin of his totem. But these cases are rare, and it is natural that they should be exceptions. Normally, a man must wear an image of his totem or something that brings it to mind. Totemic tattoos and costumes would not be possible if all contact were forbidden. It has also been noted that this prohibition has not been found in Australia. It has been found only in societies where totemism has moved far from its original form. The prohibition is therefore probably of late origin. Perhaps it is due to the influence of ideas that are not really totemic at all.
Dorsey, Omaha Sociology, IIIrd Rep., pp. 225, 231.
Casalis, ibid.
Even among the Omaha, it is not certain that the contact prohibitions just cited are really totemic. Many have no direct connection to the animal that serves as the clan's totem. For example, the Eagle sub-clan's characteristic prohibition is against touching a buffalo's head (Dorsey, op. cit., p. 239). In another sub-clan with the same totem, members must not touch verdigris, charcoal, etc. (ibid., p. 245).
If we now compare these various interdictions with those whose object is the totemic emblem, contrarily to all that could be foreseen, it appears that these latter are more numerous, stricter, and more severely enforced than the former. The figures of all sorts which represent the totem are surrounded with a respect sensibly superior to that inspired by the very being whose form these figures reproduce. The churinga, the nurtunja and the waninga can never be handled by the women or the uninitiated, who are even allowed to catch glimpses of it only very exceptionally, and from a respectful distance. On the other hand, the plant or animal whose name the clan bears may be seen and touched by everybody. The churinga are preserved in a sort of temple, upon whose threshold all noises from the profane life must cease; it is the domain of sacred things. On the contrary, the totemic animals and plants live in the profane world and are mixed up with the common everyday life. Since the number and importance of the interdictions which isolate a sacred thing, and keep it apart, correspond to the degree of sacredness with which it is invested, we arrive at the remarkable conclusion that the images of totemic beings are more sacred than the beings themselves. Also, in the ceremonies of the cult, it is the churinga and the nurtunja which have the most important place; the animal appears there only very exceptionally. In a certain rite, of which we shall have occasion to speak, it serves as the substance for a religious repast, but it plays no active rôle. The Arunta dance around the nurtunja, and assemble before the image of their totem to adore it, but a similar demonstration is never made before the totemic being itself. If this latter were the primarily sacred object, it would be with it, the sacred animal or plant, that the young initiate would communicate when he is introduced into the religious life; but we have seen that on the contrary, the most solemn moment of the initiation is the one when the novice enters into the sanctuary of the churinga. It is with them and the nurtunja that he communicates. The representations of the totem are therefore more actively powerful than the totem itself.
If we now compare these various prohibitions with those concerning the totemic emblem, we find something contrary to all expectations. The prohibitions concerning the emblem are more numerous, stricter, and more severely enforced. Images of all kinds that represent the totem receive noticeably greater respect than the being they portray. Women and the uninitiated may never handle the churinga, the nurtunja, or the waninga. They may glimpse these objects only on very rare occasions and from a respectful distance. By contrast, everyone may see and touch the plant or animal whose name the clan bears. The churinga are kept in a kind of temple. At its threshold, all sounds of ordinary life must cease. It is the domain of sacred things. Totemic animals and plants, by contrast, live in the ordinary world and are part of everyday life. The number and importance of the prohibitions that isolate a sacred thing correspond to its degree of sacredness. We therefore reach a remarkable conclusion: the images of totemic beings are more sacred than the beings themselves. The churinga and the nurtunja also hold the most important place in religious ceremonies. The animal appears in them only very rarely. In one rite, which we shall discuss later, it provides the food for a religious meal, but plays no active role. The Arunta dance around the nurtunja and gather before the image of their totem to worship it. But they never show such devotion before the totemic being itself. If the totemic being were the primary sacred object, the young initiate would commune with that sacred animal or plant when he enters religious life. But, as we have seen, the most solemn moment of initiation is when the novice enters the sanctuary of the churinga. He communes with the churinga and the nurtunja. The representations of the totem therefore have more active power than the totem itself.
See Bk. III, ch. ii, § 2.
II
II
We must now determine the place of man in the scheme of religious things.
We must now determine the place of humans in the religious order.
By the force of a whole group of acquired habits and of language itself, we are inclined to consider the common man, the simple believer, as an essentially profane being. It may well happen that this conception is not literally true for any religion; in any case, it is not applicable to totemism. Every member of the clan is invested with a sacred character which is not materially inferior to that which we just observed in the animal. This personal sacredness is due to the fact that the man believes that while he is a man in the usual sense of the word, he is also an animal or plant of the totemic species.
Our ingrained habits and language lead us to think of the ordinary person, the simple believer, as essentially profane. This idea may not be literally true of any religion. In any case, it does not apply to totemism. Every clan member has a sacred character that is not significantly inferior to that of the animal just discussed. This personal sacredness comes from the person’s belief that, although human in the usual sense, they are also an animal or plant of the totemic species.
Perhaps no religion treats human beings as entirely profane. For Christians, the soul within each of us is sacred in some way. The soul is the very essence of our being. We will see that this idea of the soul is as old as religious thought itself. Human beings have a higher or lower place in the hierarchy of sacred things.
In fact, he bears its name; this identity of name is therefore supposed to imply an identity of nature. The first is not merely considered as an outward sign of the second; it supposes it logically. This is because the name, for a primitive, is not merely a word or a combination of sounds; it is a part of the being, and even something essential to it. A member of the Kangaroo clan calls himself a kangaroo; he is therefore, in one sense, an animal of this species. "The totem of any man," say Spencer and Gillen, "is regarded as the same thing as himself; a native once said to us when we were discussing the matter with him, 'That one,' pointing to his photograph which we had taken, 'is the same thing as me: so is a kangaroo' (his totem)." So each individual has a double nature: two beings coexist within him, a man and an animal.
In fact, he bears its name. This shared name is therefore thought to imply a shared nature. The shared name is not merely considered an outward sign of the shared nature. It logically implies it. This is because, for a primitive, a name is not merely a word or a combination of sounds. It is part of a being, and even essential to it. A member of the Kangaroo clan calls himself a kangaroo. He is therefore, in one sense, an animal of that species. "The totem of any man," say Spencer and Gillen, "is regarded as the same thing as himself. A native once told us this when we were discussing the matter with him. Pointing to a photograph we had taken of him, he said, 'That one is the same thing as me: so is a kangaroo' (his totem)." So each individual has a double nature. Two beings coexist within him, a man and an animal.
Nat. Tr., p. 202.
In order to give a semblance of intelligibility to this duality, so strange for us, the primitive has invented myths which, it is true, explain nothing and only shift the difficulty, but which, by shifting it, seem at least to lessen the logical scandal. With slight variations of detail, all are constructed on the same plan: their object is to establish genealogical connections between the man and the totemic animal, making the one a relative of the other. By this common origin, which, by the way, is represented in various manners, they believe that they account for their common nature. The Narrinyeri, for example, have imagined that certain of the first men had the power of transforming themselves into beasts. Other Australian societies place at the beginning of humanity either strange animals from which the men were descended in some unknown way, or mixed beings, half-way between the two kingdoms, or else unformed creatures, hardly representable, deprived of all determined organs, and even of all definite members, and the different parts of whose bodies were hardly outlined. Mythical powers, sometimes conceived under the form of animals, then intervened and made men out of these ambiguous and innumerable beings which Spencer and Gillen say represent "stages in the transformation of animals and plants into human beings." These transformations are represented to us under the form of violent and, as it were, surgical operations. It is under the blows of an axe or, if the operator is a bird, blows of the beak, that the human individual was carved out of this shapeless mass, his members separated from each other, his mouth opened and his nostrils pierced. Analogous legends are found in America, except that owing to the more highly developed mentality of these peoples, the representations which they employ do not contain confusions so troublesome for the mind. Sometimes it is a legendary personage who, by an act of his power, metamorphosed the animal who gives its name to the clan into a man. Sometimes the myth attempts to explain how, by a series of nearly natural events and a sort of spontaneous evolution, the animal transformed himself little by little, and finally took a human form.
To make this duality, so strange to us, seem understandable, primitive people invented myths. These myths explain nothing and merely shift the difficulty elsewhere. But by shifting it, they at least seem to make the logical problem less shocking. With slight differences in detail, all the myths follow the same pattern. They aim to establish a genealogical connection between people and the totemic animal, making them relatives. By this common origin, which is represented in various ways, people believe they can explain their common nature. The Narrinyeri, for example, imagined that some of the first people had the power to turn themselves into animals. Other Australian societies place different beings at the beginning of humanity. Some describe strange animals from which humans descended in some unknown way. Others describe mixed beings, halfway between the two kingdoms. Still others describe unformed creatures that are hard even to picture. These creatures had no distinct organs or limbs, and their body parts were barely outlined. Mythical powers, sometimes imagined as animals, then intervened and made humans from these ambiguous and countless beings. Spencer and Gillen say that the beings represent "stages in the transformation of animals and plants into human beings." These transformations are depicted as violent operations, almost like surgery. Blows from an axe, or from the beak if the operator was a bird, carved the human individual from the shapeless mass. The blows separated the limbs, opened the mouth, and pierced the nostrils. Similar legends are found in America. But because these peoples have a more highly developed mentality, their representations do not contain confusions so troubling to the mind. Sometimes a legendary figure uses his power to transform the animal that gives the clan its name into a person. At other times, the myth tries to explain how the animal gradually transformed itself through a series of nearly natural events. Through a kind of spontaneous evolution, the animal finally took human form.
Taplin, The Narrinyeri, pp. 59 to 61.
For example, among some clans of the Warramunga (Nor. Tr., p. 162).
Among the Urabunna (Nor. Tr., p. 147). Even when they tell us that the first beings were men, these beings are really only partly human. They also have an animal nature. This is the case among certain Unmatjera (ibid., pp. 153-154). Here we find ways of thinking whose confusion unsettles us, but we must accept them as they are. We would distort these ways of thinking if we tried to give them a clarity they do not have (cf. Nat. Tr., p. 119).
Among the Arunta (Nat. Tr., pp. 388 ff.) and certain Unmatjera (Nor. Tr., p. 153).
Nat. Tr., p. 389. Cf. Strehlow, I, pp. 2-7.
Nat. Tr., p. 389; Strehlow, I, pp. 2 ff. This mythical theme undoubtedly echoes the initiation rites. Initiation also aims to make the young man a complete man. It also involves actual surgical operations (circumcision, sub-incision, the extraction of teeth, etc.). The processes that formed the first men would naturally be imagined on the same model.
This is the case with the nine clans of the Moqui (Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes, IV, p. 86). It is also the case with the Crain clan among the Ojibway (Morgan, Ancient Society, p. 180), the Nootka clans (Boas, VIth Rep. on the N.W. Tribes of Canada, p. 43), etc.
This is how the Turtle clan of the Iroquois was formed. A group of turtles had been forced to leave the lake where they lived and find another home. One turtle, larger than the others, struggled badly with the journey because of the heat. It struggled so hard that it came out of its shell. Once the transformation had begun, it continued on its own. The turtle finally became a man, who was the ancestor of the clan (Erminnie A. Smith, The Myths of the Iroquois, IInd Report, p. 77). The Crab clan of the Choctaw was formed in a similar way. Some men caught a number of crabs that lived nearby and took them home. They taught the crabs to talk and walk, and finally adopted them into their society (Catlin, North American Indians, II, p. 128).
It is true that there are societies (the Haida, Tlinkit, Tsimshian) where it is no longer admitted that man was born of an animal or plant; but the idea of an affinity between the animals of the totemic species and the members of the clan has survived there nevertheless, and expresses itself in myths which, though differing from the preceding, still retain all that is essential in them. Here is one of the fundamental themes. The ancestor who gives his name to the clan is here represented as a human being, but who, in the course of various wanderings, has been led to live for a while among the fabulous animals of the very species which gave the clan its name. As the result of this intimate and prolonged connection, he became so like his new companions that when he returned to men, they no longer recognized him. He was therefore given the name of the animal which he resembled. It is from his stay in this mythical land that he brought back the totemic emblem, together with the powers and virtues believed to be attached to it. Thus in this case, as in the others, men are believed to participate in the nature of the animal, though this participation may be conceived in slightly different forms.
It is true that some societies (the Haida, Tlinkit, Tsimshian) no longer believe that humans were born from animals or plants. But they still believe in a kinship between clan members and animals of the totemic species. This belief appears in myths that differ from the earlier ones but retain all that is essential to them. Here is one of the main themes. The ancestor who gives the clan its name is portrayed as a human being. In the course of his wanderings, he came to live for a time among the fabulous animals of the species that gave the clan its name. Through this close and prolonged connection, he became so much like his new companions that people no longer recognized him when he returned to them. He was therefore given the name of the animal he resembled. From his stay in this mythical land, he brought back the totemic emblem, along with the powers and virtues believed to be attached to it. Thus, in this case, as in the others, humans are believed to share in the nature of the animal, though this sharing may be understood in slightly different ways.
For example, here is a Tsimshian legend. While hunting, an Indigenous man met a black bear. The bear took him home and taught him to catch salmon and build canoes. The man stayed with the bear for two years, then returned to his home village. But the people feared him because he was just like a bear. He could not speak or eat anything except raw food. Then people rubbed him with magic herbs, and he gradually regained his original form. After that, whenever he was in trouble, he called on his bear friends, who came to help him. He built a house and painted a bear on its foundation. His sister made a dance blanket with a bear design. That is why her descendants had the bear as their emblem (Boas, Kwakiutl, p. 323. Cf. Vth Rep. on the N.W. Tribes of Canada, pp. 23, 29 ff.; Hill Tout, Report on the Ethnology of the Statlumh of British Columbia, in J.A.I., 1905, XXXV, p. 150).
Some Tlinkit myths describe the descent of humans from animals even more precisely. They say that the clan descends from what might be called a mixed union. In this union, either the husband or the wife was an animal of the species whose name the clan bears (see Swanton, Social Condition, Beliefs, etc., of the Tlinkit Indians, XXVIth Rep., pp. 415-418).
So man also has something sacred about him. Though diffused into the whole organism, this characteristic is especially apparent in certain privileged places. There are organs and tissues that are specially marked out: these are particularly the blood and the hair.
So humans also have something sacred about them. Although this sacred quality spreads throughout the body, it is especially apparent in certain places. Some organs and tissues are especially marked by it, particularly the blood and hair.
In the first place, human blood is so holy a thing that in the tribes of Central Australia, it frequently serves to consecrate the most respected instruments of the cult. For example, in certain cases, the nurtunja is regularly anointed from top to bottom with the blood of a man. It is upon ground all saturated with blood that the men of the Emu, among the Arunta, trace their sacred images. We shall presently see that streams of blood are poured upon the rocks which represent the totemic animals and plants. There is no religious ceremony where blood does not have some part to play. During the initiation, the adults open their veins and sprinkle the novice with their blood; and this blood is so sacred a thing that women may not be present while it is flowing; the sight of it is forbidden them, just as the sight of a churinga is. The blood lost by a young initiate during the very violent operations he must undergo has very particular virtues: it is used in various ceremonies. That which flows during the sub-incision is piously kept by the Arunta and buried in a place upon which they put a piece of wood warning passers-by of the sacredness of the spot; no woman should approach it. The religious nature of blood also explains the equal importance, religiously, of the red ochre, which is very frequently employed in ceremonies; they rub the churinga with it and use it in ritual decorations. This is due to the fact that because of its colour, it is regarded as something kindred to blood. Many deposits of red ochre which are found in the Arunta territory are even supposed to be the coagulated blood which certain heroines of the mythical period shed on to the soil.
First, human blood is so sacred that Central Australian tribes often use it to consecrate their most respected religious objects. For example, in certain cases, a man’s blood is regularly spread over the nurtunja from top to bottom. Among the Arunta, the men of the Emu trace their sacred images on ground saturated with blood. We shall soon see that streams of blood are poured onto rocks representing the totemic animals and plants. Blood plays a part in every religious ceremony. During initiation, the adults open their veins and sprinkle the novice with their blood. The blood is so sacred that women may not be present while it flows. They are forbidden to see it, just as they are forbidden to see a churinga. The blood a young initiate loses during the very violent procedures he must undergo has special powers. It is used in various ceremonies. The Arunta carefully preserve the blood that flows during sub-incision and bury it. They place a piece of wood at the spot to warn passers-by that it is sacred. No woman should approach it. The sacred nature of blood also explains why red ochre is equally important in religious life. It is very often used in ceremonies. People rub it on the churinga and use it for ritual decorations. This is because its color makes it seem related to blood. Many deposits of red ochre in Arunta territory are even believed to be the dried blood that certain heroines of the mythical period shed onto the ground.
Nat. Tr., p. 284.
Ibid., p. 179.
See Bk. III, ch. ii. Compare Nat. Tr., pp. 184, 201.
Ibid., pp. 204, 262, 284.
Among the Dieri and the Parnkalla. See Howitt, Nat. Tr., pp. 658, 661, 668, 669-671.
Among the Warramunga, the mother drinks the blood from the circumcision (Nor. Tr., p. 352). Among the Binbinga, the initiate must lick the blood off the knife used for the sub-incision (ibid., p. 368). In general, blood from the genital organs is considered especially sacred (Nat. Tr., p. 464; Nor. Tr., p. 598).
Nat. Tr., p. 268.
Ibid., pp. 144, 568.
Ibid., pp. 442, 464. This myth is quite common in Australia.
Hair has similar properties. The natives of the centre wear belts made of human hair, whose religious functions we have already pointed out: they are also used to wrap up certain instruments of the cult. Does one man loan another one of his churinga? As a sign of acknowledgment, the second makes a present of hair to the first; these two sorts of things are therefore thought to be of the same order and of equivalent value. So the operation of cutting the hair is a ritual act, accompanied by definite ceremonies: the individual operated upon must squat on the ground, with his face turned in the direction of the place where the fabulous ancestors from which the clan of his mother is believed to be descended, are thought to have camped. For the same reason, as soon as a man is dead, they cut his hair off and put it away in some distant place, for neither women nor the non-initiated have the right of seeing it: it is here, far from profane eyes, that the belts are made.
Hair has similar properties. The native people of central Australia wear belts made of human hair, whose religious functions we have already described. They also use the belts to wrap certain objects used in religious rites. When one man lends another one of his churinga, the borrower gives him hair in acknowledgment. The two kinds of things are therefore considered to be of the same order and equal in value. Cutting hair is therefore a ritual act, accompanied by specific ceremonies. The person having his hair cut must squat on the ground. He must face the place where the mythical ancestors of his mother’s clan are believed to have camped. For the same reason, as soon as a man dies, his hair is cut off and stored somewhere far away. Neither women nor uninitiated people are allowed to see the hair. The belts are made there, far from profane eyes.
Nat. Tr., p. 627.
Ibid., p. 466.
Ibid. It is believed that if all these formalities are not strictly followed, the individual will suffer serious misfortunes.
Nat. Tr., p. 538, Nor. Tr., p. 604.
Other organic tissues might be mentioned which have similar properties, in varying degrees: such are the whiskers, the foreskin, the fat of the liver, etc. But it is useless to multiply examples. Those already given are enough to prove that there is something in man which holds profane things at a distance and which possesses a religious power; in other words, the human organism conceals within its depths a sacred principle, which visibly comes to the surface in certain determined cases. This principle does not differ materially from that which causes the religious character of the totem. In fact, we have just seen that the different substances in which it incarnates itself especially enter into the ritual composition of the objects of the cult (nurtunja, totemic designs), or else are used in the anointings whose object is to renew the virtues either of the churinga or of the sacred rocks; they are things of the same species.
Other bodily tissues could be mentioned that have similar properties to varying degrees. These include whiskers, the foreskin, and liver fat. But there is no need for more examples. Those already given are enough to prove that something in humans holds profane things at a distance and possesses religious power. In other words, a sacred principle lies deep within the human body. In certain specific cases, this principle visibly comes to the surface. It does not differ significantly from the principle that gives the totem its religious character. In fact, we have just seen how the substances in which the sacred principle is especially embodied are used. They enter into the ritual making of sacred objects (nurtunja, totemic designs). They are also used in anointings meant to renew the powers of the churinga or the sacred rocks. These substances are things of the same kind.
After circumcision, the foreskin is sometimes hidden, just like the blood. It has special powers. For example, it ensures the fertility of certain animal and plant species (Nor. Tr., pp. 353 f.). Whiskers are mixed with hair and treated in the same way (ibid., pp. 604, 544). They also play a part in the myths (ibid., p. 158). Fat is used in certain funeral rites, showing that it is sacred.
Sometimes the religious dignity which is inherent in each member of the clan on this account is not equal for all. Men possess it to a higher degree than women; in relation to them, women are like profane beings. Thus, every time that there is an assembly, either of the totemic group or of the tribe, the men have a separate camp, distinct from that of the women, and into which these latter may not enter: they are separated off. But there are also differences in the way in which men are marked with a religious character. The young men not yet initiated are wholly deprived of it, since they are not admitted to the ceremonies. It is among the old men that it reaches its greatest intensity. They are so very sacred that certain things forbidden to ordinary people are permissible for them: they may eat the totemic animal more freely and, as we have seen, there are even some tribes where they are freed from all dietetic restrictions.
Sometimes this religious status, which belongs to every member of the clan, is not equal for all. Men possess it to a greater degree than women. Compared with men, women are like profane beings. So whenever the totemic group or the tribe gathers, the men have a separate camp. It is distinct from the women’s camp, and women may not enter it. They are kept apart. But men also differ in the degree to which they possess this religious status. Young men who have not yet been initiated lack it entirely, since they are not admitted to the ceremonies. Religious status is strongest among the old men. They are so sacred that they may do certain things forbidden to ordinary people. They may eat the totemic animal more freely. As we have seen, in some tribes they are even free from all dietary restrictions.
This does not mean that women are entirely profane. In myths, at least among the Arunta, women play a much more important religious role than they do in reality (Nat. Tr., pp. 195 f.). Even now, women take part in certain initiation rites. Finally, their blood has religious powers (see Nat. Tr., p. 464; cf. La prohibition de l'inceste et ses origines, Année Sociol., I, pp. 41 ff.).
Nat. Tr., p. 460.
So we must be careful not to consider totemism a sort of animal worship. The attitude of a man towards the animals or plants whose name he bears is not at all that of a believer towards his god, for he belongs to the sacred world himself. Their relations are rather those of two beings who are on the same level and of equal value. The most that can be said is that in certain cases, at least, the animal seems to occupy a slightly more elevated place in the hierarchy of sacred things. It is because of this that it is sometimes called the father or the grandfather of the men of the clan, which seems to show that they feel themselves in a state of moral dependence in regard to it. But in other, and perhaps even more frequent cases, it happens that the expressions used denote rather a sentiment of equality. The totemic animal is called the friend or the elder brother of its human fellows. Finally, the bonds which exist between them and it are much more like those which unite the members of a single family; the animals and the men are made of the same flesh, as the Buandik say. On account of this kinship, men regard the animals of the totemic species as kindly associates upon whose aid they think they can rely. They call them to their aid and they come, to direct their blows in the hunt and to give warning of whatever dangers there may be. In return for this, men treat them with regard and are never cruel to them; but these attentions in no way resemble a cult.
We must be careful not to regard totemism as a form of animal worship. A person’s attitude toward the animals or plants whose name he bears is nothing like a believer’s attitude toward his god. The person himself belongs to the sacred world. The relationship is more like that between two beings who are equals and have equal value. At most, in certain cases at least, the animal seems to rank slightly higher among sacred things. This is why the animal is sometimes called the father or grandfather of the men of the clan. This name seems to show that they feel morally dependent on the animal. But in other cases, perhaps even more often, the terms used suggest a feeling of equality instead. The totemic animal is called the friend or elder brother of its human fellows. In the end, the bonds between humans and the totemic animal are much more like those within a family. Animals and humans are made of the same flesh, as the Buandik say. Because of this kinship, people regard animals of the totemic species as friendly companions whose help they believe they can count on. They call on the animals for help, and the animals come to guide their blows during the hunt and warn them of any dangers. In return, people treat the animals with care and are never cruel to them. But this care is nothing like worship.
Among the Wakelbura, according to Howitt, p. 146. Among the Bechuana, according to Casalis, Basoutos, p. 221.
Among the Buandik and Kurnai (Howitt, ibid.). Among the Arunta (Strehlow, II, p. 58).
Howitt, ibid.
In the Tully River district, Roth says (Superstition, Magic and Medicine, in North Queensland Ethnography, No. 5, § 74), a person says the name of the animal they are named after in a low voice. They do this as they go to sleep or get up in the morning. The practice is meant to make a man skillful or lucky in hunting, or to warn him of dangers the animal may pose. For example, a man whose totem is a species of serpent is protected from bites if he has regularly invoked its name.
Taplin, Narrinyeri, p. 64. Howitt, Nat. Tr., p. 147. Roth, loc. cit.
Strehlow, II, p. 58.
Men sometimes even appear to have a mysterious sort of property-right over their totems. The prohibition against killing and eating them is applied only to members of the clan, of course; it could not be extended to other persons without making life practically impossible. If, in a tribe like the Arunta, where there is such a host of different totems, it were forbidden to eat, not only the animal or plant whose name one bears, but also all the animals and all the plants which serve as totems to other clans, the sources of food would be reduced to nothing. Yet there are tribes where the consumption of the totemic plant or animal is not allowed without restrictions, even to foreigners. Among the Wakelbura, it must not take place in the presence of men of this totem. In other places, their permission must be given. For example, among the Kaitish and the Unmatjera, whenever a man of the Emu totem happens to be in a place occupied by a grass-seed clan, and gathers some of these seed, before eating them he must go to the chief and say to him, "I have gathered these seeds in your country." To this the chief replies, "All right; you may eat them." But if the Emu man ate them before demanding permission, it is believed that he would fall sick and run the risk of dying. There are even cases where the chief of the group must take a little of the food and eat it himself: it is a sort of payment which must be made. For the same reason, the churinga gives the hunter a certain power over the corresponding animal: by rubbing his body with a Euro churinga, for example, a man acquires a greater chance of catching euros. This is the proof that the fact of participating in the nature of a totemic being confers a sort of eminent right over this latter. Finally, there is one tribe in northern Queensland, the Karingbool, where the men of the totem are the only ones who have a right to kill the animal or, if the totem is a tree, to peel off its bark. Their aid is indispensable to all others who want to use the flesh of this animal or the wood of this tree for their own personal ends. So they appear as proprietors, though it is quite evidently over a special sort of property, of which we find it hard to form an idea.
Men sometimes even seem to have a mysterious kind of property right over their totems. Of course, the ban on killing and eating totems applies only to members of the clan. Extending the ban to others would make life practically impossible. In a tribe like the Arunta, there are many different totems. Suppose people were forbidden to eat all the animals and plants that serve as other clans’ totems, as well as the animal or plant whose name they bear. Their food sources would be reduced to nothing. Yet some tribes restrict even outsiders from consuming a totemic plant or animal. Among the Wakelbura, outsiders must not eat it in the presence of men of that totem. Elsewhere, outsiders must obtain their permission. For example, a man of the Emu totem may find himself in a place occupied by a grass-seed clan. If he gathers some of these seeds, he must go to the chief before eating them. He must say, "I have gathered these seeds in your country." The chief replies, "All right; you may eat them." But if the Emu man ate the seeds before asking permission, he is believed to risk falling sick and dying. In some cases, the group’s chief must take a little of the food and eat it himself. This is a kind of payment that must be made. For the same reason, the churinga gives the hunter a certain power over the corresponding animal. For example, by rubbing his body with a Euro churinga, a man gains a better chance of catching euros. This proves that sharing the nature of a totemic being gives a person a kind of superior right over it. Finally, in one northern Queensland tribe, the Karingbool, only the men of the totem have the right to kill the animal. If the totem is a tree, only they have the right to peel off its bark. Anyone else who wants to use the animal’s flesh or the tree’s wood for personal purposes needs their help. So the men of the totem appear to be owners. Yet this is clearly a special kind of property, one that we find hard to imagine.
Howitt, p. 148.
Nor. Tr., pp. 159-160.
Ibid.
Ibid., p. 225; Nat. Tr., pp. 202, 203.
A. L. P. Cameron, On Two Queensland Tribes, in Science of Man, Australasian Anthropological Journal, 1904, VII, 28, col. I.