The Australian Aborigines are usually regarded as one of the most primitive, if not the most primitive, of contemporary peoples. Certainly their material culture is much simpler and more rudimentary than that of the Trobrianders or the Bantu. Nevertheless their social organisation is exceedingly complex, and their initiation rites protracted and intricate. But the most profound difference between them and the peoples we have so far considered is that their view of nature and man is based on totemism and a belief in reincarnation.2 Moreover they have no rank or chieftainship, and they do not worship their ancestors. So that among them we have not only a very primitive but a highly distinctive way of living or pattern of culture; and perhaps no culture illustrates more clearly the interweaving of customs and beliefs and institutions into a closely knit system, in which each supports others and cannot be understood without reference to them.

These considerations apply to all Australian tribes, but as there are important differences of detail between the cultures of different groups I propose to devote special attention to one group—those of the Central and Northern Central district. But as the fundamental social structure is similar throughout Australia I shall from time to time illustrate their way of life by reference to the beliefs and practices of other tribes.

The Australian Aborigines are a nomadic people, but the territory within which each tribe, and each local group within a tribe, roams has well-defined boundaries. These are respected by their neighbours and the groups do not normally tend to stray beyond them. They neither cultivate the soil nor rear cattle. They just hunt and collect food; so that they are entirely dependent on unaided nature's bounty. And as much of the country which they occupy is arid and infertile, many groups are separated by long distances from their neighbours. Such windscreens and rude shelters as they build for themselves can scarcely be called huts,3 and they prefer to sleep in the open, even in places where the temperature sometimes falls below freezing-point. They do not wear any clothes for warmth, and very little for concealment.4 Thus their provision for their creature comforts is of the most meagre kind.

I shall not attempt to give a detailed description of all aspects of their way of life. I can only give such an account of their main, and especially their most characteristic institutions as will enable us to see how they dovetail into one another and how the resulting pattern determines the duties and obligations of individuals, and the way they think of their own and other people's conduct, together with some indication of how changes in what they believe to be right take place.

The social structure of the Australian Aborigines and their beliefs about the way in which individuals should behave towards one another within it are largely determined by considerations of kinship. Fortunately it is not necessary for our purpose to describe their extraordinarily complex system of kinship in detail. All we need note is:

(1) Their kinship system is all-embracing.5 Not only is everybody with whom the native is likely to come in contact within the local group, or even within the tribe, related to him by blood or marriage or tribal fiction, but he knows or can discover what the relation to each is; and these relations determine how he should behave in any company, or towards any individuals—whether, for example, he should show special respect to them, whether he should offer them assistance or protection or hospitality, whether he can count on their co-operation, whether, and if so to what extent, he should share with them anything which he has or receives, such, for example, as the produce of his hunting, whether it is legitimate, and if it is legitimate whether it is specially desirable, to marry one of them, and so on.

(2) They classify relations of kinship in a different way from us; and it is this method of classification which enables their kinship system to perform the function which it does in their social system without impossible complexity. For example, a man uses the same term to describe his father and his father's brother. Now if his father's brothers are also ‘fathers', their wives are also ‘mothers’, and their children ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’. On the other hand, the mother's brother is not a ‘father’ but an uncle, his wife an aunt, and his children cousins. Moreover, the mother's brother belongs to a different local group; for the different local groups are exogamous, and marriage is patrilocal. In other words, a man takes his wife from another group, and she lives with him in his. Thus the terms ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ are extended to include what we would call one group of cousins—those who are reckoned through the father and therefore belong to one's own local group; while the term cousin covers the other set—those who are reckoned through the mother and belong to another group. Moreover, the father's brothers or the mother's brothers may marry persons from yet other groups, and so may the father's or the mother's sisters. And so the relationships extend and ramify until the whole tribe is included within the network.

Now as the result of this extension and this method of classification, the same term, brother, sister, cousin, aunt, etc., is applied to a group of individuals whose blood relationships are quite different, and some of whom are not related to others by blood relationships at all. But an individual is expected to behave in the same way towards all who bear the same name, whether their relationships to him be a blood relationship or only a tribal one.6

This does not mean that the Aborigines do not distinguish between blood and tribal relations. A man does distinguish between his own and his brother's children, though they are both described by the same term.7 What it does mean is that there is a pattern of behaviour which applies equally to all who bear the same name, or belong to the same class, however different the exact relationship to them may be. Accordingly, when an individual visits a group other than his own, the first point to be considered is his relationship to the members of that group. This having been determined, his standing and his rights and his duties are at once known. If, as sometimes happens, he does not himself know, and the elders of the group are unable to trace, the exact relationship necessary to place the visitor in his proper class, they treat him as the ‘brother’ of the man who introduced him. Then he is treated as if he belonged to the same class as the latter, and behaviour to him is determined accordingly.

Thus the principle of kinship is a source of social order and a determinant of social behaviour both within the local group and also in the relations between groups, and most of the individual's rights and duties depend on it. Its value in this respect is specially obvious at intergroup or intertribal meetings. The position of individuals and classes, as determined by this principle within their own group or tribe, enables them to know how to behave towards, and what behaviour to expect from, individuals and classes of the other tribe, some of whom they may never have met before. This makes for smoother and more harmonious relationships at such meetings.

The actual operation of the principle of kinship is, however, conditioned by a number of other principles; and the functioning of the resultant organisation is rendered easier and more effective by its intimate connection with the magico-religious beliefs of the natives. Let us, therefore, try to see what these principles and beliefs are, and how they combine together to produce the native pattern of culture.

The local group or horde, to use Radcliffe-Brown's term, is the unit of political or territorial organisation. This horde is an enlarged family. While the individual family consists of a man, his wife or wives and children, the horde consists of several such families, the heads of which are related in the male line, together, it may be, with other dependent relatives. The horde is patrilineal and exogamous, that is, a child belongs to his father's local group, while his mother belongs to another local group. Thus, apart from the married women, who are in it but not of it, the horde is a biological unit based on descent in the male line. But the horde is also a spiritual unity based on magico-religious considerations. Indeed, the spiritual bond is probably stronger than the biological one; for the Australian Aborigines, like the Trobrianders, have no idea of the part which the father plays in the coming into being of children. It is true that some, at least, of the tribes attribute to the father some part in ‘discovering’ the spirit of the child, and directing it to the woman into whom it should enter, but this has nothing to do with intercourse with the mother. The natives also believe in pre-existence and reincarnation. According to their traditional mythology, their early ancestors left in certain spots in the territory which they now occupy the spirits which become incarnate as the men and women of the horde. From these spots, the spirits, from time to time, come and enter into married women and are born as children; and to these spots they again return at death to await another incarnation. In this way, the relation of the native to the territory occupied by his horde is much more intimate than can be conveyed by saying that it is his home or the home of his fathers. This relationship not only binds him by a mystic bond to the other members of the horde, but it also explains why he does not want to go far, or for long, away from his home; and why although there are quarrels and wars between groups, they never fight for or desire one another's territory.8

The Aborigines do not recognise any distinction of rank, but they pay great respect to age and the experience and wisdom which age normally brings with it. The control of the affairs of the horde is, therefore, in the hands of the senior elders, who discuss matters informally among themselves before any decision is arrived at. Among them the senior in years normally acts as primus inter pares, until he gets too old, when he hands over to the next senior. But the position of this ‘headman’ is neither official nor hereditary;9 and it requires qualifications other than mere age, such as ability and knowledge of tribal customs.10

The tribe, as distinct from the horde, has no political organisation and no chief or headman; and it seldom, if ever, functions as a unit.11 The main source of tribal unity is the intricate network of kinship ties between the members of the different hordes which constitute it; but in the case of the tribe, as in that of the horde, the social bonds based on kinship are strengthened by the spiritual unity of the members as connected by magico-religious ties to the territory which they occupy. These bonds are further strengthened by a close similarity of customs, beliefs and language. But the unity of the tribe does not find concrete expression in any individual or council of individuals to manage its affairs, nor in any tribal political machinery. Nevertheless, when groups meet together for ritual or ceremonial or other purposes, the chief elders of the different hordes take counsel together and settle disputes between their groups. In these councils, which are quite informal, men of character and ability exert an important influence on their fellow elders. Sometimes they succeed in bringing about changes in practices and institutions within the general framework of the social structure which is common to them all.12 Such changes sometimes come about, in the first instance, within one group; and then, after discussion at intergroup meetings, they are extended to other groups; and, it may be, to other tribes. But as there is no machinery by which unwelcome changes can be enforced, such changes as take place come about after they have been “discussed, understood and adopted”13 by the people concerned.

There are other social groupings, other divisions of the tribe, which cut across the unity of the horde. These divisions serve at least as much to connect as to divide the members of the tribe. Thus tribes are divided into moieties, sections and sub-sections. The principles of division are mainly based on kinship, by blood or marriage; but they are also bound up with, and reinforced by magico-religious considerations. In some of these groupings, as, for example, in sub-sections, different members of one horde, even parents and children, not only may, but must be in different groups; while members of different hordes may belong to one group. This intricate network of interconnection helps to strengthen the unity of the tribe as a whole.

The details of these divisions and groupings are so complex that no useful purpose would be served by trying to describe them here. Suffice it to say that the division into moieties is mainly for ceremonial purposes. People group themselves in these ways, for example, at initiation rites, totemic ceremonies and burial ritual. Sections and sub-sections, on the other hand, are convenient ways of describing groups of relatives, determined by kinship. They provide a shorthand way of stating the relationships between individuals without having in each case to find one's way through the complexities of the kinship system. This is specially useful on such occasions as intertribal meetings.

These divisions and groupings are sometimes regarded as intended to regulate marriage, and they do often serve this secondary purpose; but they are neither necessary nor by themselves sufficient to do so. Kinship by itself is sufficient for the purpose; and so far as sections or sub-sections are used to do it, they can serve the purpose only because they are groupings of natives on the basis of kin. Moreover the attempt to regulate marriage by such groups, sometimes, so restricts the field of choice of partners that it becomes necessary to provide for marriages which do not comply with their requirements; and the custom of doing so is socially approved so long as the kinship rules of exogamy are not infringed.

My main reason for mentioning these groupings is their intimate connection with the magico-religious beliefs of the natives. Whether their purpose is social or ceremonial, most of the groups are totemic. What then are totemic groups, and what function does totemism fulfil in the life of the Aborigines? Totemism is usually defined as “a relationship between an individual or a group of individuals on the one hand, and a natural object or species on the other”14 —a relationship which is denoted by the individual or group bearing the name of the totem. This definition, however, does not take us very far; for it leaves undefined the nature of the relationship between the totem and the individual or the group whose totem it is. The fact is, as Elkin points out, that there are many varieties of totemism and many kinds of totemic group; so that the relationship concerned is not necessarily the same in all cases. To say, therefore, that a group is totemic does not tell us either the principle on which it is formed or the function which it fulfils in the life of the society. If, for example, a group is based on kinship and has a ceremonial function, neither its nature nor its function is altered by its being a totemic group. But if a group is totemic, that may give it greater cohesion and so enable it to perform its function more effectively. For a group to be totemic means at least that the members have in the totem a badge or symbol of membership by which they can recognise one another. But it usually means much more than this. It connects a group with the past history of their people, and thus, in a way, gives it a sort of mystical character. Moreover, the totem binds the members not only to one another, but also to some aspect of nature; and the bond of connection is not only a peculiarly intimate one but also one which cannot be severed, and which imposes duties and obligations and confers rights and privileges. Totemism, in short, is a way of expressing the unity of men with one another, the unity of past and present, and the unity of men and nature or at any rate the unity of the men who live in a particular territory and their natural environment.

Totemism connects the past and present in two ways—on the one hand, through myths regarding the activities of culture heroes and the relics which they left behind, especially the sacred places where the ceremonies for the increase of the totem take place; and on the other, by stressing the identity of substance, through direct descent, between those who now exist and those heroes of bygone days who sometimes appeared in the form of the totem and at other times in human form. The doctrine of reincarnation further emphasises this connection, for according to it the same spirits appear in past ancestors, present members and future children.

Totemism also expresses the unity and co-partnership of man and nature in two ways. On the one hand, man has to co-operate with nature in order to enable nature to do its work. This is seen in the increase ceremonies, the intichiuma, which are so prominent a feature of the ritual of the Aborigines; without the performance of these ceremonies the totemic animals would die out. On the other hand, nature has to provide for man's needs, and to protect and help him. This is specially obvious to a people who do nothing to help themselves except gather the fruits, animal and vegetable, which nature provides for their use. Totemism thus stands for or expresses a large number of relations. In the case of one totemic group, one bond of connection may be more prominent, in another group a different one. The membership of one totemic group is transmitted through the father, that of another through the mother, while membership of another is determined by place of birth or conception. Moreover, the same individual may be a member of more than one totemic group.

Without entering into further detail, or raising the question on which so much has been written, whether totemism is a philosophy of nature, or a religion, or a feature of social organisation, or perhaps, as I think, a rudimentary form of all three, I trust enough has been said to enable us to understand the light which it throws on the mentality of the natives, and the influence which it exercises on their views of the relation between individuals and groups of individuals.

To take the former first. The belief in totemism and the way in which the member of a totemic group thinks of the relation between himself and his totem, is part of the evidence put forward in support of the view that the primitive mind is pre-logical, and works in a different way or according to different principles from our own. I propose to delay consideration of this view till I am discussing the nature of primitive mentality, when totemic beliefs will be considered along with the other evidence submitted in support of it.15 But one or two further remarks on the relation between the native and his totem seem called for here, not only because of their relevance to the fundamental issue with which we shall be concerned later, but also because a clear idea of the way in which the native thinks of his relation to his totem is necessary for an understanding of many of his beliefs and practices. This relation the native himself often describes as one of identity. He is a crow or a cockatoo, an emu or a witchetty grub. What, then, does he mean by this? We already saw that there are different kinds of totemic groups, and that the relation of their members to one another and to the totem, the principle of identity of the group, need not be the same in all of them. Sometimes the native specifies the principle of identity more precisely as being an identity of substance or flesh. In relation to certain totemic groupings, the meaning of such language is clear enough. There are, for example, certain social groups, membership of which is transmitted through the mother. In their case, identity of flesh obviously refers to descent in the matrilineal line from a common ancestor. That is the only identity of flesh recognised by a people for whom fatherhood is a social rather than a biological relation. Now the animal or other species which is the totem is not only the symbol of this identity of substance, but itself shares in it, because it shares in the common ancestry.

There are, however, instances in which the principle of identity is not at all clear to us, as, for example, when the native asserts not only that he is descended from an emu, or that he will become an emu after death, but that he is an emu now, and still more when he says that “lightning is crow, and so are thunder, rain, clouds, hail and winter, that the moon and stars are black cockatoo, that fish, eels and seals are karato (a non-poisonous snake)”.16 Now this does not mean that he regards himself as in all respects identical with an emu, or that he does not see any difference between his fellow members of the totemic group and the emus which roam in his territory. But it does mean that he does not draw the sharp distinction which we do between men and animals or between either of them and inanimate objects. It is not that the native begins by regarding men and animals and natural events as different, and then finding certain powers such as desires, intentions and inclinations operative in his own experience, projects them into nature, animate and inanimate, and thus reinterprets nature in the light of his own experience. It is rather that he has not yet learned to draw such clear distinctions as we do between these different regions, and that he thinks of all of them in animistic and personalistic terms. He has not yet developed the idea of the natural or inanimate nor yet of personality in our sense of these terms. Consequently he finds no more difficulty in thinking of animals and natural objects as thinking and behaving like human beings than the little girl does when she talks to her doll, or tries to lull it to sleep. But he would be as terrified if the object or animal were, in his presence, to turn into a man or behave like one as the little girl would be if her doll were to answer back.

It is true that the most primitive people that we know have learned by experience what to expect under certain circumstances, and how to behave in relation to it. There are certain regularities about the behaviour of events and animals and fellow-men which they observe as accurately as we do, and to which they respond in appropriate ways, as, for example, in preparing their tools or pursuing their prey or co-operating with their fellows. Without such learning by experience neither man nor animal could survive. But even of the environment to which primitive man thus responds, his understanding is imperfect and his mastery incomplete. Not only is it surrounded by forces and powers which he does not understand and cannot control, but these forces and powers make incursions into his workaday world in such forms as rain or drought, birth or death, famine or plenty, forms which affect his welfare and that of his group in the most intimate ways. Accordingly he tends to regard everything with which he is in contact or which affects his welfare, whether in the heavens or on the earth, as parts of his social order. He classifies them according to the principles which operate in that order, especially the principles of kinship and totemic grouping; and he thinks of their behaviour in terms of motives and powers derived from his experience of himself and his fellows. Hence his magico-religious beliefs about them, and his attempts at conciliating and controlling them.

What, then, are the social consequences of totemism, the ways in which it influences man's relations to his fellows? (1) By emphasising the identity of the totemic group, it fosters strong social sentiments between its members whether the group be a local horde or one which cuts across territorial frontiers. It thus increases the individual's sense of loyalty to the group, and provides him with an additional incentive for performing his duties to his fellow members. (2) The members of the totemic group have duties in the way of assistance and protection and hospitality to one another, and this is very important, especially when members of one local group visit another. (3) Still more important, totemism emphasises the dependence of all the hordes within a tribe and even of different tribes on one another. This interdependence is specially emphasised by the intichiuma ceremonies which take place for the increase of the totem. The sacred spots at which the ceremonies for the increase of a particular animal or other natural species have to be performed and the secret of the necessary rites belong to a particular totemic group.17 If they fail to perform the appropriate ceremonies, the supply of that animal, for example the emu or kangaroo, will cease. This will be a catastrophe, not so much to the group concerned, because they do not normally eat their own totem, as to the rest of the tribe. Thus, according to their beliefs, each group is dependent for its livelihood and welfare on all the others duly performing their duties for the increase of their own totems. Thus totemism not only connects man with nature and his fellow-men, but it imposes on each of them duties for the welfare of all. How seriously they take these duties and what effects their performance produces on them is thus described by Elkin: “When they return (from their ceremonies) to the world of secular affairs they are refreshed in mind and spirit. They now face the vicissitudes of everyday life with a new courage and strength gained from the common participation in the rites, with a fresh appreciation of their social and moral ideals and patterns of life, and an assurance that having performed the rites well and truly, all will be well with themselves and with that part of nature with which their lives are intimately linked.”18

One further remark about the attitude of the native to his totem is necessary to complete our survey of their magico-religious beliefs. The native has certain taboos against killing or eating his totem except on ceremonial occasions; and even then he eats of it sparingly. But he does not worship it, nor does he appeal to it for aid in any of his difficulties; nor does he worship or pray to his ancestors or culture heroes with whom totemism connects him. Ancestral worship seems to be precluded by the belief in reincarnation. In fact, among the group of tribes with which we are specially concerned there is no idea of a personal supernatural agent whom they could worship, or to whom they could turn for aid in their difficulties and perplexities.19

We have now before us the main principles of the Aborigines’ social structure: kinship, horde exogamy, patrilocal marriage, respect for age, totemic groupings and the magico-religious beliefs which are intimately bound up with them. From our account of them, it should be clear, as our authorities are never tired of telling us, that “the different aspects of Aboriginal life are almost inextricably intertwined, and that to explain one of them fully demands almost a complete understanding of the whole culture”.20 Begin where we will, in our attempts to understand what we find we soon discover that we are involved in all the other aspects. If, for example, we try to understand the Aborigines’ social groupings, we find we have to consider their ideas about kinship; but we soon find that these can only be grasped in the light of their beliefs about totemism and reincarnation, and these in turn prove to be intimately bound up both with their past history and their economic welfare. In short the different aspects are interlinked, and to explain one we must understand all.

While the principles which we have so far considered provide not only the conditions within which the Aborigine must pursue his ends and seek the satisfaction of his needs, but also much of the content of his ideal, they do not precisely determine all his duties. When, however, we turn to consider the code of morality or the system of rights and duties which the Aborigines have built up within the framework of these principles, we find our authorities less detailed and explicit than we could wish. They are explicit and emphatic enough that the Aborigines have a code of morals and that it has no direct supernatural sanction. Spencer and Gillen write: “The Central Australian natives. . . have no idea whatever of the existence of any supreme being who is pleased if they follow a certain line of what we call moral conduct and displeased if they do not do so. They have not the vaguest idea of a personal individual other than an actual living member of the tribe who approves or disapproves of their conduct, so far as anything like what we call morality is concerned.”21 And again: “So far as the inculcation of anything like moral ideas is concerned. . . it is never associated with the mention of the name of any individual who is supposed in any way whatever to sanction any moral precepts. . . . We have searched carefully in the hope of finding traces of a belief in such a being, but the more we got to know of the details of the native beliefs, the more evident it became that they have not the faintest conception of any (such) individual.”22

But, they continue, “it must not however be imagined that the Central Australian native has nothing in the nature of a moral code. As a matter of fact, he has a very strict one, and during the initiation ceremonies the youth is told that there are certain things he must do and certain things he must not do. But he quite understands that any punishment for the infringement of these rules of conduct which are thus laid down for him will come from the older men and not at all from any supreme being of whom he hears nothing whatever.”23

Now all that this means is that the natives have a secular morality devoid of any direct supernatural sanction and that this morality is taught by the elders to the youths during the initiation ceremonies. It does not mean that their magico-religious ideas, which in the form of totemism and magic pervade the whole of their life, do not influence the way in which they think of and behave towards their fellows. While it is true that the main content of their morality, their ideas regarding their duties to their neighbours, are not determined by magico-religious beliefs, it is also true, as we have already seen, that, given the belief that they have these duties to their neighbours, magico-religious considerations have a great deal to do with the loyalty with which they are carried out. We can even go further and say that some parts of their magico-religious ritual provide an indirect, if not a direct sanction for some of their duties—whether or not they were consciously intended to do so. Thus we are told that at some of the great intertribal gatherings, before the ceremonies begin, “all grudges and complaints must be expressed and cleared up, and all disputes settled”.24 Again, we hear that “there must be no quarrelling while the ceremonies are in progress or while the churinga (that is, one of their sacred objects) are being kept near by”.25 We are also told of ritual practices which form part of some of their magico-religious ceremonies, the purpose of which is to prevent a man from being “hard-hearted and greedy”, so that he might be “ready to divide what he secures with others who may not have been as successful as himself”.26 In this way, forgiveness, friendship and generosity are directly encouraged, partly no doubt because they are independently recognised as good, but also because they are felt to harmonise with the unity of purpose, the solemnity and the reverential awe which observers27 tell us characterise these ritual ceremonies on which the life and welfare of the people as a whole are believed to depend.

Before considering the moral ideas which the youths are taught during initiation it is desirable to refer to the initiation ceremonies which occupy such an important place in the life and thought of the natives. For in order to understand the way in which they think of their duties and obligations, we must know not only the content of the moral instruction they receive, but also the circumstances under which they receive it.

For the native, initiation is the doorway to manhood, to full adult status as a member of his tribe. It is a necessary preliminary to marriage and to entrance into the council of those who settle the affairs of the horde; and it is the way of entry into the secret and sacred life of his people, such as the mysteries connected with the increase ceremonies, on which their continued welfare depends. It is in fact the door to everything to which the native youth looks forward as the things which make life worth while.

The hardships to which he is subjected, the discipline of mind and body which he has to undergo, the atmosphere which surrounds many of the ceremonies and especially the sacred awe with which the elders approach their ritual objects and reveal to him their secrets, are all calculated to impress the novice with a sense of the importance of the step which he is taking and of the teaching which he receives. He ceases to be a child, spending most of his time with the women and children, and becomes a man with the status and privileges and responsibilities which this involves. He dies28 to the frailties and weaknesses of childhood and is born a new being whose conduct should be characterised by courage, strength and manliness. Above all he ceases to be an outsider: the group mysteries are revealed to him and he is allowed first to see and then to take part in the sacred ceremonies of his people.

The physical preparation of the initiate consists of such things as circumcision and subincision, knocking out a tooth, marking the body and other trying and painful processes. The details and the intensity of this preparation vary from tribe to tribe, but the general pattern is the same for all. Then follows a period of seclusion, during which the initiate is cut off from the rest of the group, especially from the women and children, and submitted to many food taboos and other forms of discipline. At intervals during this prolonged period the elders, with due rite and ceremony, relate to him the mythology regarding their totemic or culture heroes. They also reveal to him their sacred symbols, the churinga, the bull-roarers, the sacred spots, and they instruct him in the ritual to be used in connection with them. In the course of this revelation, he learns that the noise which he had hitherto regarded as the voice of an all powerful supernatural being is only a bogy to frighten the women and children.29 It is in fact the noise of a bull-roarer whirled by one of the initiated.

The instruction given to the novice, however, is not confined to religion and ritual. He is also given moral instruction as to how he should behave to his fellow-men, and probably there is no very clear distinction drawn between the two; for the ceremonial duties are also, in part at least, social obligations. On their due performance the welfare of the tribe is believed to depend. Loyalty to the group, sense of duty to his fellows and even self-interest as well as magico-religious ideas and feelings may, therefore, enter into his motives for performing them; so intimately are the social, moral, economic and religious aspects of the life of the native bound together. Moreover, the feelings of respect and awe associated with the ritual ceremonies tend to be extended to the moral instruction. This helps to impress it more forcibly on the mind of the initiate, and gives it, in his view, an added authority.

What, then, is the content of the moral instruction given during initiation and on what authority does it rest? It is in our attempts to answer this question that we find our authorities least helpful. They tend to be more concerned with the native principles of social organisation than with the life and personal relations of individuals within the society; and so far as they deal with the latter at all, they tend to describe the details of native practices rather than the way the natives think about them, and the reasons why they consider them right. Certain things, however, are clear. Much of the instruction consists in emphasising the importance of complying with tribal customs and fulfilling the duties which these customs impose. With many of these customs the novice is already acquainted before initiation. Many of the duties, both positive and negative, which they require are determined by the principles of their social organisation which we have already described. They include such duties as co-operation and mutual helpfulness between the members of the horde; protection, hospitality and assistance between members of totemic groups; and exchanges of gifts and services between persons who are related by kinship ties, in accordance with “the principle of reciprocity which”, we are told, “runs through all native life”.30 Thus elders should make gifts to youths during initiation and the youths are expected to bring food to them later. A man's maternal uncle has duties in connection with his betrothal and marriage, and he in turn makes a gift to his uncle. A man receives a wife from his parents-in-law and he is expected to make gifts to them in return,31 and so on. The performance of such duties is, and is seen by the native to be, for the good of the group, and no doubt this aspect is brought home to him during initiation. Doubtless, also, the working of the principle of reciprocity in the long run ensures that the individual recognises their performance as being for his own good as well; and in a small community, where all duties involve personal relations between people who all know one another, the long run is much shorter than in a large and complex modern society. Accordingly when an individual is asked why he should behave in a particular way, he sometimes points to the return service which he expects, but he may equally well answer that it is the custom of his people, or that other people have a right to expect him to do so. In a given situation or in the case of a given individual, no doubt one of these may be more prominent; but it would be unwise to treat immediate self-interest or respect for custom or regard for the rights of others alone, either as his motive for the action or as his ground for considering the action obligatory. It is true that he does not normally ask why the particular institutions and customs of his people are as they are.32 To him they are parts of the traditional way of life of his people, and he does not seem to ask for further reasons. Nevertheless, the mere fact that they are the customs of his people is not by itself sufficient to make them continue to be accepted as obligatory. If the native did not in fact see that the performance of the duties required of him by custom was on the whole for his own good and that of the group, the custom would lose its binding force and the native would cease to consider its requirements as right and reasonable. This does not mean that the natives would consciously try to change it, though, as we have seen, they are reported to do this at times, but only that the incentives which keep it going would cease to function, and that therefore it would gradually disappear. Accordingly, we are justified in saying that while the natives are not moved merely by self-interest, it is only because and so far as the customs of their people appear to them to be parts of a form of life which seems to them worth while that they continue to consider the duties which they impose as obligatory. And if they do not regard these duties as binding merely because they are customary, still less do they do so because some supernatural authority has ordered them, and will be displeased if they are not complied with; or because they believe that untoward consequences will follow, through the operation of natural or supernatural causes, from neglecting them. There are, of course, taboos and ritual duties which have supernatural sanctions of this sort; but such sanctions do not apply to their secular duties to their neighbours.

The attitude of the natives to such questions may be gathered from the rules which are taught to the youths during initiation, and especially from the way in which these rules are interpreted and the exceptions to them which are regarded as right. Among these rules our authorities mention the following:33 (1) to obey the elders and not to quarrel, especially with the elders; (2) not to eat certain foods; (3) to give food to those who are related to them in certain ways and especially to the elders; (4) not to commit adultery; and (5) not to reveal to the uninitiated any of the secrets of the ceremonies. Among these, (2) and (5) may be regarded as magico-religious or ritual duties, though (5) at least is also in the interests of the group as conceived by the elders. The other three concern the interests of the horde and especially those of the adult men. One requires obedience to tribal law, of which the elders are the guardians; another requires the generous fulfilment of economic duties; for among a people with such a simple culture, food is the only economic commodity, and the duties with regard to it are treated by them as specific duties to individuals. The further duties of not quarrelling and avoiding adultery are obviously required for the harmonious functioning of the horde.

What is specially significant, however, is the way in which these rules are interpreted, and what we should call the exceptions to them which are not only permissible but obligatory; for these bring out clearly the importance of the institutions which constitute the cultural pattern of the Aborigines in determining their duties, as well as the way in which the good of the community serves to justify not only the rules which are regarded as right, but also the interpretation that is placed upon them, and the exceptions to them.

Take as an example the rule against adultery on which a great deal of emphasis is laid during initiation. Now by adultery the natives mean, not all intercourse between a married man and a woman who is not his wife, but such intercourse as is not permitted by tribal custom. There are, however, instances in which such intercourse is not only permitted but prescribed, and prescribed because it is believed to be for the good of the community.34 For example, those who take part in a vendetta expedition always exchange wives just before the expedition starts, so as to unite them in friendly relations with one another. The same thing happens as part of the mechanism for settling disputes and for making peace between groups which have been at war. All these are situations which are fraught with great danger to the community; and the exchange of wives is part of the recognised and socially prescribed way of so dealing with them as to bring about the results which the natives desire—the success of the expedition or the establishment of lasting peace and harmony. Similarly, among the Aborigines, one of the marks of friendship and hospitality to a visitor is to lend him one’s wife during his stay.35

Now none of these customs is regarded as a breach of the rule regarding adultery, which is taught during initiation; for each of them is a form of behaviour sanctioned by the institutions of the people. So that two acts which may appear to us the same, and to which, therefore, we apply the same rule, may for the native be entirely different acts, the one right and the other wrong. Thus, to sleep with another man’s wife is normally regarded by the natives as a most serious offence, punishable by death,36 but when the first man is a visitor and the second his host, this act may be the expression of the highest regard and friendship. Thus it is not intercourse with another man’s wife as such that is regarded as wrong. Sometimes it is right, sometimes it is wrong. And the rule against adultery does not enable us to tell on which occasions it is the one, and on which the other. It is the institutions which constitute the pattern of culture of the Aborigines which alone enable them to say when it is right and when wrong. It is for this reason that our authorities warn us against “the danger of drawing conclusions from general statements”,37 and emphasise the need for getting detailed information regarding the beliefs and practices of the natives. Nothing less than such detailed knowledge of their institutions will enable us to understand the content of their moral rules; for whether the rule against adultery does or does not apply to a particular situation is determined, not by one institution, such as marriage, alone, but by a whole complex of institutions concerned with war, vendetta, hospitality, etc.

The same considerations apply to other moral rules. For example, the initiated native believes it is his duty to deceive women and children by telling them that the sound of the bull-roarer is the voice of a supernatural agent; and he does not seem to think of this as a breach of the rule of truth-telling. He does not seem in fact to think of this action in relation to that rule at all, nor does he think of the infanticide of twins, which is prescribed to him as a duty which he must perform for the good of the community, as murder, any more than he or we think of killing an enemy in war-time as murder. Within his cultural pattern or the requirements of his interrelated system of institutions, killing and deception are regarded as right in certain circumstances, wrong in others. Within ours also they are regarded as right in some circumstances and wrong in others. But the circumstances in which they are regarded as right in the two cultural patterns differ; and as we have seen, in the case of the Aborigines at any rate, it is the system of institutions which they have built up which determines in which cases they are right and in which wrong.

I shall try to gather together the results of our discussion by considering, as we did in the case of the Trobrianders and the Bantu, what main classes of rules of conduct the Aborigines regard as right or obligatory, and why they so regard them. In dealing with this question, we may take as a guide the classification of Spencer and Gillen.38 Their classification, which is based on the sanctions by which the different rules are enforced, is as follows: (1) There are rules or laws or customs which have a magico-religious sanction in the sense that breaches of them are believed to be followed inevitably and automatically by consequences which are distasteful and, it may be, disastrous to the individual and his group. Such, for example, are the rules in regard to incest or the killing of twins or totemic ritual. When asked for a justification of the conduct which these rules prescribe, the native may tell a story about a culture hero who acted in these ways, or he may merely say, ‘Our fathers did so and we must do it too’, or again he may refer to the consequences which would follow their neglect. But whether his attitude to such rules is determined mainly by hope of good or fear of evil, he accepts them merely on authority and does not understand why the good for which he hopes or the evil which he fears should result from his performance or non-performance of the duties required.

(2) There are rules of conduct which are sanctioned by “public opinion or the fear of ridicule or opprobrium”.39 These sanctions are not what makes the rules right. They are merely incentives to obey them, and deterrents against breaches of them. Spencer and Gillen lump together, under this heading, rules of manners and of morals; but on the bases of the evidence available, it seems possible to distinguish between the attitude of the natives to the two. Yet while we can see evidence of such a distinction it is by no means easy to see precisely how it is drawn, and no doubt some natives draw it more clearly than others, and perhaps some do not draw it at all. There seems, however, to be at least one important difference. In the case of etiquette, manners and conventions, of which we are told40 the natives have quite a strict code, there is really no sanction required. The individual obeys this code because everybody else does so. It is not merely that he would be ridiculed if he were in this respect different from the others, but that he in fact wants to be like them. Therefore no question of duty or obligation arises in connection with them. In the case of morals the situation is different. The moral conduct required of him under tribal law by the institutions of his people often conflicts with his inclinations and his immediate interests. That is why the question of duty arises. When the native performs these duties, it may be from motives of self-interest, because he sees that the working of the principle of reciprocity will make him suffer if he does not, or it may be from a sense of loyalty to the group, or from respect for the rights of others, or from respect for tradition, or it may be from a combination of these or other motives. But these motives are not what makes the actions in question his duties. No doubt many of the Aborigines, like many people in more advanced societies, just accept their duties as binding because they are regarded as obligatory by their society, and without raising any further question about the grounds of the rightness of the rules. But there are others who, as we have seen and will see further, appreciate the way in which the effective functioning of their institutions requires the performance by them as well as by others of certain duties, and how other forms of conduct such as quarrelling, black magic, murder and so on, disturb the equilibrium of their life and prevent themselves and other people from achieving their ends.

(3) The other class of rules mentioned by Spencer and Gillen consists of those enforced by the informal council of elders of the horde. As regards the grounds of their rightness, if they are in fact right, these legal rules, as we may call them, do not differ in principle from the moral rules we have just been considering. The only difference is that breaches of some rules are so disturbing to the life of the group, and it may be to the relations between groups, that the elders, as representatives of the group, take steps to prevent their happening and, if they happen, try to restore the disturbed equilibrium of the group by punishing them. This they do in the case of the more serious crimes like black magic, murder or breaches of the laws of marriage, by sending an avenging party to punish the offender. But such actions are not considered wrong merely because they are punished; rather they are punished because they are considered wrong; and they are considered wrong because they interfere with the welfare of the group, and the smooth working of its way of life.

We see, then, that the Aborigines distinguish what is morally right both from what is supernaturally sanctioned and from what is enforced by the elders. It is much more difficult to be sure how far they distinguish between what is socially approved or prescribed by the pattern of their culture and what is morally right. Their detailed duties at a given moment are determined by what is socially approved and prescribed; that is the operative ideal in the light of which they judge their own and other people’s conduct. This operative ideal, however, is not so precise and definite as our language about it may suggest, for it exists in the minds of individuals; and individuals, even among primitives, vary in ability and understanding, and, therefore, enter in different degrees into the spirit of their institutions. It is, therefore, difficult to distinguish between what individuals think their institutions are and what they think they should be. For all institutions, as we have seen, are part fact and part idea.41 How far, then, do the natives have any conception, however vague, of an ultimate moral ideal, whether the good of the group or their own good, which does not completely find expression in their way of life; and in the light of which they sometimes modify their institutions?

I shall mention three considerations which suggest that they distinguish what is morally right, not only from what is supernaturally sanctioned and what is legally binding, but also in some sense from what is prescribed by custom or required by existing institutions.

(1) Our authorities tell us that medicine men are allowed a freedom in their relations to other men’s wives which is denied to ordinary citizens. If they take advantage of this freedom, which we are told they seldom do, they cannot be punished. Nevertheless, “such conduct. . . is regarded as decidedly reprehensible”.42 Here then we have conduct which is not punished, which is permitted by established custom, and which is no doubt regarded in this way because of the magico-religious standing of the medicine men; yet it is regarded as morally wrong.

(2) There is the way already mentioned in which the Aborigines deal with problems that arise from contact between tribes with different practices or institutions. In this connection, Elkin writes:43 “This point should not be lightly passed over. The Aborigines have, in the past, adopted changes in their social, religious and economic life. They have successfully solved problems arising from culture contact and they are doing so today. But when they are successful in this, the changes are not being pushed on them in an overwhelming manner, but are discussed, understood and adopted.” If this judgement is well grounded, and it is supported by Spencer and Gillen,44 then the native elders deliberately introduce modifications in their institutions and customs, and they do so after discussion and a reasonably clear understanding of what they are doing.

(3) But the clearest evidence that, in their dealing with moral and social situations and the duties arising in connection with them, the Aborigines do not just passively accept a social pattern handed on by tradition but think about the situation for themselves, appreciate social facts and show regard for the good of the group or the tribe, is to be found in the way in which they deal with some of the problems to which death gives rise. No doubt the limits within which their moral thinking takes place are narrowly prescribed by magico-religious and other traditional beliefs; but this should not blind us to its existence.

According to their view, a view which they share with many other primitive people, the cause of most, if not of all, ill-health and death is magic. As Elkin puts it,45 “it is seldom a case of something causing a death, but of someone doing so”. Accordingly, for them a death gives rise to two problems: (a) to discover the ‘murderer’ and (b) to take vengeance on him. For according to the strict letter of their magico-religious beliefs not only must the proper burial ritual be performed, but the ‘murderer’ must be found and punished before the spirit of the deceased is finally laid to rest and the outraged feelings of his kinsmen assuaged. Accordingly, an inquest has to be carried out on the corpse. Speaking generally and without going into refinements, we may say that the work of carrying out the inquest and interpreting the evidence discovered is done by the medicine men and the elders. And within the limits of their beliefs, their treatment of the problem shows both intelligence and wisdom and some moral insight, although they are mixed up with much that is crude and cruel and, to us, revolting.

(1) Sometimes no inquest is held. This happens in cases when the value which the group places on the deceased individual is not great, and therefore the emotional disturbance caused by his death is not serious; as, for example, in the case of the death of an infant or young child46 who, they believe, may soon be reincarnated again.

(2) When an inquest is held, the result is not nearly so fortuitous as appearances might suggest. For in interpreting the results of the inquest, the medicine man's “thoughts are guided by his knowledge of social happenings—of the jealousies, quarrels, enmities in existence—and of the social value or worthlessness of likely ‘murderers’”.47 The evidence, for example, may be regarded as inconclusive; the suggestion being that the deceased broke some taboo, and thus, as it were, brought about his own death. Or the evidence may be interpreted to mean that the ‘murderer’ belonged to a tribe living so far away that it is not possible to send an avenging party. Or again, the evidence may only determine the direction from which the ‘murderer’ came or the tribe to which he belongs; and it is left to the medicine man or to the elders or sometimes to the tribe concerned to name the individual—a practice which is sometimes used to dispose of a person of whom they wish to get rid on other grounds. Still more significant is the case in which the ‘murderer’ is found in a group which had an old grievance against the group of the deceased. When this happens, we are told, “a meeting is arranged in which matters are discussed and the two grievances and charges are balanced one against the other”,48 and reconciliation brought about without bloodshed. Thus the sad occasion is turned into an opportunity for restoring amicable relations between estranged groups.

(3) Supposing the inquest duly completed and the ‘murderer’ or his tribe discovered, what then? Again it depends on the emotional disturbance of the group and what is required to satisfy it. In some cases, such as that of a woman or an old man, no action may be taken. Or again, a magical act may be performed against the ‘murderer’ or his tribe but no expedition sent. Or yet again, negotiations may be opened with the group believed to be responsible for the death; and, where the disturbance caused by a death is not very great, a gift may be accepted in compensation, and so on.

We must not, however, interpret the above facts as evidence that the medicine men and elders do not themselves believe that magic is the cause of death. They do believe it most sincerely. But what is most significant from our point of view is that, despite their belief in magic, they are guided by the conviction that the death of certain people does not justify much punishment, and that the directions in which they seek for satisfaction for their outraged feelings are largely determined by their sense of the interests of the group and the desirability of maintaining and promoting social harmony between groups. What we seem to find operating in these cases is not a passively accepted traditional doctrine, but that doctrine as modified by an appreciation of social facts and forces.49

Elkin sums up his account of the matter thus: The consideration of inquest and revenge “suggests that endless vendetta is not a general principle of Aboriginal life. Nor is the principle ‘an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth’ always literally interpreted. . . . Generally speaking, the Aborigines have no desire to exterminate each others’ groups. . . . When confronted with the problem of the magical causation of death, the necessity for dealing with the personal agent, and at the same time appreciating tribal and social facts, and the task of maintaining the coherence of the tribe, (the native) is able to find a solution even if it means some inconsistency” with the traditional beliefs of his ancestors.50