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Journal Title: The Elementary Forms of Religious Life

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Month/Year: 1995

Pages: Pp. 216-221 (scan notes and title/copyright pages for chapter requests)

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216 THE ELEMENTARY BELIEFS

transformed by public opinion into sacred things: Fatherland, Liberty, Rea- son. 15 A religion tended to establish itself spontaneously, with its own dogma, 16 symbols, 17 altars, 18 and feast days. 19 It was to these spontaneous hopes that the Cult ofReason and the Supreme Being tried to give a kind of authoritative fulfillment. Granted, this religious novelty did not last. The pa- triotic enthusiasm that originally stirred the masses died away, 20 and the cause having departed, the effect could not hold. But brief though it was, this ex- periment loses none of its sociological interest. In a specific case, we saw so- ciety and its fundamental ideas becoming the object of a genuine cult directly-and without transfiguration of any kind.

All these facts enable us to grasp how it is possible for the clan to awaken in its members the idea of forces existing outside them, both dominating and supporting them-in sum, religious forces. There is no other social group to which the primitive is more directly or tightly bound. The ties that bind him to the tribe are looser and less strongly felt. Although the tribe is certainly not foreign to him, it is with the people of his clan that he has most in com- mon, and it is the influence of this group that he feels most immediately, and so it is also this influence, more than any other, that was bound to find ex- pression in religious symbols.

This first explanation is too general, though, since it can be applied in- discriminately to any kind of society and hence to any kind of religion. Let us try to specify what particular form collective action takes in the clan and how in the clan it brings about the sense of the sacred, for collective action is nowhere more easily observable or more obvious than in its results.

III

Life in Australian societies alternates between two different phases.21 In one phase, the population is scattered in small groups that attend to their occupa-

15See AJb.,rc Mathiez, Les Origines des cultes revolutiomzaires 1789-1792 [Paris, G. BeUais, !90-1].

16lbid., p. 24.

11Ibid., pp. 29, 32.

t!lbid., p. 30.

19Ibid, p. -16.

2 'See (Albert] ~1J.thiez, La 11Jfophilant!Jropie et le mite dicadaire [Paris, F. Alcan, 1903), p. 36.

21 See [Sir Baldwin) Spencer and [Francis Jam~} Gillen, l\"orthem Tribes (<if Cemral Australia, London, l\ucmilbn, 1904), p. 33.

Origins of I11ese Beli~fs (Conclusion) 217

tions independently. Each family lives to itself, hunting, fishing-in short, striving by all possible means to get the food it requires. In the other p~ase, by contrast, the population comes together, concentrating itself at specified places for a period that varies from several days to several months. This con- centration takes place when a clan or a portion of the tribe22 is summoned to come together and on that occasion either conducts a religious ceremony or holds what in the usual ethnographic terminology is called a corroboree.

23

These two phases stand in the sharpest possible contrast. The first phase, in which economic activity predominates, is generally of rather low intensity. Gathering seeds or plants necessary for food, hunting, and f1shing are not oc- cupations that can stir truly strong passions. 24 The dispersed state in which the society finds itself makes life monotonous, slack, and humdrum. 25 Every- thing changes when a corroboree takes place. Since the emotional and pas- sionate faculties of the primitive are not fully subordinated to his reason and will, he easily loses his self-control. An event of any importance immediately puts him outside himself. Does he receive happy news? There are transports of enthusiasm. If the opposite happens, he is seen running hither and yon like a madman, giving way to all sorts of chaotic movements: shouting, scream- ing, gathering dust and throwing it in all directions, biting himself, brandish- ing his weapons furiously, and so on.26 The very act of congregating is an exceptionally powerful stimulant. Once the individuals are gathered to- gether, a sort of electricity is generated from their closeness and quickly launches them to an extraordinary height of exaltation. Every emotion ex- pressed resonates without interference in consciousnesses that are \vide open

. 22

lndeed there are ceremonies, notably those that take place for initiation, to which memben of fur- etgn tribes are summoned. A system of messages and messengers is organized fur the purpose of giving the nonce that is indispensable for the grand ceremonies. (See (Alfred William] Howitt. "Notes on Aus- tralian Message-Sticks and Messengers;' ]AI, vol. XVIII (1889) (pp. 314-334]; Howitt, Native Tribes (<if South. East Aus:ralia, New York, Macmillan, 1904], pp. 83, 678-091; Spencer and Gillen, Nati<'t' Tribes (of Central Australia, London, Macmillan, 1899], p. 159; Spencer and Gillen, Nonhem Tribts, p. 551 .

. 2Yfhe corroboree is distinguished from a religious rite proper in that it is accessible to v.'Omen and the umntnated. But although these two sorts of collective celebrations must be distinguished, thev J.re closelv related. I will return to and explain this relationship. , ,

2'E . th xcept m e case of the large bush-beating hunts. 25"Th e peaceful monotony of this part of his life;' say Spencer and Gillen (i:\'onhem Tribes, p. 33). 26

Howitt. r-,; · Tr 'b 6 3 , fo . ' ala'!' " es, P· 8 · Here it is the demonstrations that take place when an emba,sy «ent to .L mgn group returns to carnp With news of a favorable result. [Durkheim will not be the one to """"rt ""'t the ernb . . h b --,. v . assy m questlon ad een entrusted to women. Howitt does not ;av what the warne • ·

SJOn was abo T I Cf · ns mls- 18 ut. rans. . [Robert] Brough Smyth, [TI•e Aborigind ,:flr,aoria], vol. I [Melbourne ]. Fer-

res!, 78], P· 138; [Reverend Louis] Schulze, "Aborigines of the Upper and Middle Finke Ri . .. .RSS , \'0. XVI{\891], p. 222. wr, ' -"'•

218 THE ELEMENTARY BELIEFS

to external impressions, each one echoing the others. The initial impulse is thereby amplified each time it is echoed, like an avalanche that grows as it goes along. And since passions so heated and so free from all control cannot help but spill over, from every side there are nothing but wild movements, shouts, downright howls, and deafening noises of all kinds that further in- tensifY the state they are expressing. Probably because a collective emotion cannot be expressed collectively without some order that permits harmony and unison of movement, these gestures and cries tend to fall into rhythm and regularity, and from there into songs and dances. But in taking on a more regular form, they lose none of their natural fury. A regulated commotion is still a commotion. The human voice is inadequate to the task and is given ar- tificial reinforcement: Boomerangs are knocked against one another; bull roarers are whirled. The original function of these instruments, used widely in the religious ceremonies of Australia, probably was to give more satisfYing expression to the excitement felt. And by expressing this excitement, they also reinforce it. The effervescence often becomes so intense that it leads to outlandish behavior; the passions unleashed are so torrential that nothing can hold them. People are so far outside the ordinary conditions of life, and so conscious of the fact, that they feel a certain need to set themselves above and beyond ordinary morality. The sexes come together in violation of the rules governing sexual relations. Men exchange wives. Indeed, sometimes inces- tuous unions, in normal times judged loathsome and harshly condemned, are contracted in the open and \vith impunity.27 If it is added that the ceremonies are generally held at night, in the midst of shadows pierced here and there by firelight, we can easily imagine the effect that scenes like these are bound to have on the minds of all those who take part. They bring about such an in- tense hyperexcitement of physical and mental life as a whole that they can- not be borne for very long. The celebrant who takes the leading role eventually falls exhausted to the ground.28

To illustrate and flesh out this unavoidably sketchy tableau, here is an ac- count of scenes taken from Spencer and Gillen.

One of the most important religious celebrations among the Warra-

27See Spencer and Gillen, l\atit.,Tribts, pp. 96-97, Northern Tribes, p. 137; Brough Smyth, Aborigines <if llcroria, vol. II. p. 319. This ritual promiscuity is practiced especially during initiation ceremonies (Spencer and Gillen, Nath<e Tribes, pp. 267, 381; Howitt, Natit'e Tribes, p. 657) and in totemic ceremonies (Spencer and Gillen, Northern Tribes, pp. 214,237, 298). The ordinary rules of exogamy are violated dur- ing totemic ceremonies. Nevertheless, among the Arunta, unions between father and daughter, son and

mother. brothen and sisters (all cases ofblood kinship) remain forbidden (Spencer and Gillen, i'\'atit<e Tribes [pp. 96-97j).

::SHcrn,;tt, Natit'eTribes, pp. 535, 545. This is extremely common.

Origins of These Beliefs (Cotulusioll) 219

munga concerns the snake Wollunqua. It is a series of rites that unfold over several days. What I will describe takes place on the fourth day.

According to the protocol in use among the Warramunga, representa- tives of the two phratries take part, some as celebrants and others as organiz- ers and participants. Although only the people of the Uluuru phratry are authorized to conduct the ceremony, the members of the Kingilli phratry must decorate the participants, prepare the site and the instruments, and serve as the audience. In this capacity, they are responsible for mounding damp sand ahead of time, on which they use red down to make a drawing that represents the snake Wollunqua. The ceremony proper, which Spencer and Gillen attended, did not begin until nightfall. Around ten or eleven o'- clock, Uluuru and Kingilli arrived on the scene, sat on the mound, and be- gan to sing. All were in a state of obvious excitement ("every one was evidently very excited"). A short time later in the evening, the Uluuru brought their wives and handed them over to the Kingilli,29 who had sexual relations with them. The recently initiated young men were brought in, and the ceremony was explained to them, after which there was uninterrupted singing until three in the morning. Then came a scene of truly wild frenzy ("a scene of the wildest excitement"). With fires flickering on all sides, bringing out starkly the whiteness of the gum trees against the surrounding night, the Uluuru knelt in single file beside the mound, then moved around it, rising in unison with both hands on their thighs, kneeling again a little farther along, and so on. At the same time, they moved their bodies left and then right, at each move- ment letting out an echoing scream-actually a howl-at the top of their voices, Ymh! Yrrsh! Yrrslz! Meanwhile the Kingilli, in a high state of excite- ment, sounded their boomerangs, their chief appearing to be even more ex- cited than his companions. When the procession of the Uluuru had circled the mound n.vice, they rose from their kneeling position, seated themselves, and took to singing again. From time to time, the singing would flag and al- most die, then break out suddenly again. At the first sign of day, everyone jumped to their feet; the fires that had gone out were relit; urged on by the Kingilli, the Uluuru furiously attacked the mound \vith boomerangs, lances, and sticks, and in a few minutes it was in pieces. The fires died and there was profound silence.30

The same observers were present at a yet "vilder scene among the War- ramunga during the fire rituals. All sorts of processions, dances, and songs had been underway by torchlight since nightfall, and the general efferves-

:nsmce the women were also Kingilli, these unions violated the rule of exogamy.

31 'Spencer and Gillen, Nortlurn Tribes, p. 237. [This account begins at p. 231. Trans.]

220 THE ELEMENTARY BELIEFS

cence was increasingly intense. At a certain moment, twelve of those present each took in hand a large lighted torch; and, holding his own torch like a bayonette, one of them charged a group of natives. The blows were parried with staves and lances. A general melee followed. Men jumped, kicked, reared, and let out wild screams. The torches blazed and crackled as they hit heads and bodies, showering sparks in all directions. "The smoke, the flam- ing torches, the rain of sparks, the mass of men dancing and screaming-all that, say Spencer and Gillen, created a scene whose wildness cannot be con- veyed in words." 31

It is not difficult to imagine that a man in such a state of exaltation should no longer know himself. Feeling possessed and led on by some sort of external power that makes him think and act differently than he normally does, he naturally feels he is no longer himself. It seems to him that he has become a new being. The decorations with which he is decked out, and the masklike decorations that cover his face, represent this inward transformation even more than they help bring it about. And because his companions feel transformed in the same way at the same moment, and express this feeling by their shouts, movements, and bearing, it is as if he was in reality transported into a special world entirely different from the one in which he ordinarily lives, a special world inhabited by exceptionally intense forces that invade and transform him. Especially when repeated for weeks, day after day, how would experiences like these not leave him with the conviction that two het- erogeneous and incommensurable worlds exist in fact? In one world he lan- guidly carries on his daily life; the other is one that he cannot enter without abruptly entering into relations with extraordinary powers that excite him to the point of frenzy. The first is the profane world and the second, the world of sacred things.

It is in these effervescent social milieux, and indeed from that very effer- vescence, that the religious idea seems to have been born. That such is in-

, deed the origin tends to be confirmed by the fact that what is properly called religious activity in Australia is almost entirely contained within the periods when these gatherings are held. To be sure, there is no people among whom the great cult ceremonies are not more or less periodical, but in the more ad- vanced societies, there is virtually no day on which some prayer or offering is not offered to the gods or on which some ritual obligation is not fulfilled. In Australia, by contrast, the time apart from the feasts of the clan and the

31 lbid., p. 391. Other examples of collective effervescence during religious ceremonies are found in Spencer and Gillen, ."i<>tiwTribes, pp. 244-246. 356-366,374, 509-510. (The last occurs during a funeral rite.) Cf. Spencer and Gillen, Nmhern Tribes, pp. 213, 351.

Origins of These BelitifS (Conclusion) 221

tribe is taken up almost entirely with secular and profane activities. Granted, even during the periods of secular activity, there are prohibitions that must be and are observed. Freely killing or eating the totemic animal is never per- mitted, at least where the prohibition has kept its original strictness, but hardly any positive rite or ceremony of any importance is conducted. The positive rites and ceremonies take place only among assembled groups. Thus, the pious life of the Australian moves between successive phases-one of ut- ter colorlessness, one of hyperexcitement-and social life oscillates to the same rhythm. This brings out the link between the two phases. Among the peoples called civilized, on the other hand, the relative continuity between them: partially masks their interrelations. Indeed, we may well ask whether this starkness of contrast may have been necessary to release the experience of the sacred in its first form. By compressing itself almost entirely into cir- cumscribed periods, collective life could attain its maximum intensity and power, thereby giving man a more vivid sense of the twofold existence he leads and the twofold nature in which he participates.

But this explanation is still incomplete. I have shown how the clan awak- ens in its members the idea of external forces that dominate and exalt it by the way in which it acts upon its members. But I still must ask how it hap- pens that those forces were conceived of in the form of the totem, that is, in the form of an animal or plant.

The reason is that some animal or plant has given its name to the clan and serves as the clan's emblem. It is, in fact, a well-known law that the feel- ings a thing arouses in us are spontaneously transmitted to the symbol that represents it. Black is for us a sign of mourning; therefore it evokes sad thoughts and impressions. This transfer of feelings takes place because the idea of the thing and the idea of its symbol are closely connected in our minds. As a result, the feelings evoked by one spread contagiously to the other. This contagion, which occurs in all cases to some extent, is much more complete and more pronounced whenever the symbol is something simple, well defined, and easily imagined. But the thing itself is difficult for the mind to comprehend-given its dimensions, the number of its parts, and the complexity of their organization. We cannot detect the source of the strong feelings we have in an abstract entity that we can imagine only with difficulty and in a jumbled way. We can comprehend those feelings only in connection '\vith a concrete object whose reality we feel intensely. Thus if the thing itself does not meet this requirement, it cannot serve as a mooring for the impressions felt, even for those impressions it has itself aroused. The symbol thus takes the place of the thing, and the emotions aroused are trans- ferred to the symbol. It is the symbol that is loved, feared, and respected. It