Although I have no religious beliefs, religion nevertheless interests me deeply. One of the strangest I have chanced upon is what is called the cargo cult. This is a religion that arose independently in various parts of the Pacific, chiefly in Fiji, Vanuatu and Papua New Guinea. The earliest known instance was the Tuka movement of Fiji in 1885. A cargo cult is a belief system among members of a relatively undeveloped society in which adherents practise superstitious rituals hoping to bring modern goods produced by a technologically advanced society. Cargo cultists believe that various ritualistic acts, such as the building of an airplane runway, will result in the appearance of material wealth via airplanes.
General characteristicsCargo cults are marked by a number of common characteristics, including a "myth-dream" that is a synthesis of indigenous and foreign elements; the expectation of help from the ancestors; charismatic leaders; and lastly, belief in the appearance of an abundance of goods. The indigenous societies of Melanesia were typically characterized by a "big man" social system, in which individuals gained prestige through gift exchanges. The more wealth a man could distribute, the more people in his debt, the more he was esteemed. Those who were unable to reciprocate were identified as "rubbish men". Faced, through colonialism, with foreigners with a seemingly unending supply of goods for exchange, the Melanesians felt inferior, like rubbish men. Theodore Schwartz emphasizes that both Melanesians and Europeans place great value on the demonstration of wealth. "The two cultures met on the common ground of materialistic competitive striving for prestige through entrepreneurial achievement of wealth." Melanesians realised that their standard of living was vastly lower than that of the Whites, and thus came to focus on cargo as an essential expression of their desires.
Since the modern manufacturing process is unknown to them, members and prophets of the cults maintain that the manufactured goods of the non-native culture have been created by magical means, such as through their own deities and ancestors. These goods are intended for the local indigenous people, but the foreigners have unfairly gained control of them through malice or mistake. Thus, a characteristic feature of cargo cults is the belief that spiritual agents will, at some future time, give much valuable cargo to the cult members. They thought that the foreigners had some special connection to the natives' deities and ancestors, who were the only beings powerful enough to produce such riches.
Rather than embracing the culture of the US, the cargo cult movement began with a promised return to a golden age of ancestral potency. Minor alterations to priestly practices were undertaken to update them and attempt to recover some kind of ancestral efficacy. The cargo cult can be seen as a return to traditional beliefs and practices, rejecting what the missionaries have imposed on the people. Yet the cargo cult is also a bizarre mix of native and imported elements.
Symbols associated with Christianity and modern Western society are incorporated into their rituals; for example the use of red cross-shaped grave markers. Notable examples of cargo cult activity include the setting up of mock airstrips, airports, airplanes, offices, and dining rooms, as well as the attempted construction of Western goods, such as radios made of coconuts and straw. Believers stage drills and marches with sticks for rifles and use military-style insignia to make them look like soldiers, thereby treating the activities of Western military personnel as rituals to be performed for the purpose of attracting the cargo.
A cargo cult echoes a commonly repeated human behaviour to imitate success: "If I imitate my role model I will become like my role model".
Melanesia and World War IIThe best known period of cargo cult activity occurred among the Melanesian islanders in the years during and after World War II. A small population of indigenous peoples observed, often directly in front of their dwellings, the largest war ever fought by technologically advanced nations. The Japanese arrived first with a great deal of supplies. Later the Allied forces followed. The vast amounts of military equipment and supplies that both sides airdropped (or airlifted to airstrips) to troops on these islands meant drastic changes to the lifestyle of the islanders, many of whom had never seen outsiders before. Manufactured clothing, medicine, canned food, tents, weapons and other goods arrived in vast quantities for the soldiers, who often shared some of it with the islanders who were their guides and hosts. This was true of the Japanese Army as well, at least initially before relations deteriorated in most regions.
With the end of the war, the military abandoned the airbases and stopped dropping cargo. In response, charismatic individuals developed cults among remote Melanesian populations that promised to bestow on their followers deliveries of food, arms, and Jeeps. The cult leaders explained that the cargo would be gifts from their own ancestors, or other sources, as had occurred with the outsider armies. It is impossible to know whether the leaders were sincere or whether they cynically exploited the beliefs of their fellow villagers. My guess is that it was a mix of both. It is thought that the best conmen come to believe their own lies.
In attempts to get cargo to fall by parachute or land in planes or ships again, islanders imitated the same practices they had seen the soldiers, sailors, and airmen use. Cult behaviours usually involved mimicking the day-to-day activities and dress styles of US soldiers, such as performing parade ground drills with wooden poles acting as rifles. The islanders carved headphones from wood and wore them while sitting in fabricated control towers. They waved the landing signals while standing on the runways and lit signal fires and torches to light up runways and lighthouses. In a form of sympathetic magic, many built life-size replicas of airplanes out of straw and cut new military-style landing strips out of the jungle, hoping to attract more airplanes.
The John Frum CultThe John Frum cult, one of the best known and longest-lived, arose on the island of Tanna, Vanuatu. It began in 1936 when a mysterious man called John Frum announced that if the Europeans left Tanna then there would be an abundance of wealth. This triggered a pagan revival, including traditional religion and dancing, plus kava drinking. When the Americans landed, the black soldiers among them had an abundance of material goods and shared them generously with the natives. This seemed to fulfil Frum's prophecy. It also retrospectively turned John Frum into an American, and transformed the movement into a cargo cult. Cult members worshipped certain unspecified Americans having the name "John Frum" or "Tom Navy" who they claimed had brought cargo to their island during World War II and whom they identified as being the spiritual entity who would provide cargo to them in the future. "John promised he'll bring planeloads and shiploads of cargo to us from America if we pray to him," a village elder told Smithsonian Magazine in 2006. "Radios, TVs, trucks, boats, watches, iceboxes, medicine, Coca-Cola and many other wonderful things."
Perhaps the most negative consequence of the John Frum cult was that a generation of Tanna children missed out on an education in the mission schools.
The Cult of Prince PhilipSome cargo cults persist to this day, especially that of John Frum, which is now represented in the Vanuatu parliament by its own party. Another is The Prince Philip Movement, also on the island of Tanna. This worships Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, husband of Queen Elizabeth II. According to ancient Yaohnanen tales, the light-skinned son of a mountain spirit travelled over the seas to a distant land. There, he married a powerful woman and in time would return to them. The people of the Yaohnanen area believe that Prince Philip is a divine being. They had seen the respect accorded to Queen Elizabeth by the colonial officials and concluded that her husband, Prince Philip, must be the son referred to in their legends. Their belief was strengthened by the royal couple's official visit to Port Vila, Vanuatu, in 1974, when a few Tanna villagers had the opportunity to see Prince Philip from a distance. Chief Jack Naiva, one of the paddlers of a traditional war canoe which greeted the royal yacht, was quoted as saying: "I saw him standing on the deck in his white uniform. I knew then that he was the true messiah." The Prince was not then aware of the sect, but it was brought to his attention several years later. A few worshippers even travelled to England and met their god.
Lest we feel superior, we should take note that the Tanna villagers were appalled and bewildered by the sight of homeless rough sleepers in London. "We don't really see how it is possible that a city with so much money and so many buildings can have people sleeping on the streets," said one of the men. "On Tanna no one is homeless. Everybody is equal in wealth. If you need a house, everyone will help you build one."
David Attenborough on the origin of the cargo cultsPrior to the arrival of Europeans, the peoples of New Guinea had been living in the Stone Age. The only materials they knew were stone, wood and vegetable fibres. Then suddenly, a strange people appeared, bringing an abundance of astonishing new objects, all of them made from entirely new and wonderful materials. Clearly, the cargo cannot be of human origin, as the substances from which the objects are made do not occur in nature. How could you chip or weave or carve a shining enamelled refrigerator? Furthermore, the white people do not themselves make the cargo - it arrives in ships or planes. Therefore, the cargo must be of supernatural origin and be sent by the gods.
But why should it only come to the white man? Presumably because he practises a powerful ritual which persuades the gods to send the cargo. At first, it seems that the white men are prepared to share their secrets, for they are happy to talk about their god. The people believe them and attend church, but in spite of this, the cargo does not come to them. The natives suspect they are being deceived. They notice that the religion the missionaries preach is ignored by most of the white men, so they must be doing something else to persuade the gods.
So they ask the traders how they can obtain cargo. The traders tell them to work in the copra plantations to earn money, which they can spend in the white man's store. But this is not a satisfactory answer. No matter how hard a native works they are only able to buy the meanest of the objects they desire. Furthermore, it is obvious that the trader does not practise what he preaches, as he does no physical work whatever, just shuffling papers.
So the natives watch the strangers more closely. They notice that they build tall masts with wires attached and sit listening to small boxes that emit curious noises and strangled voices. The natives now have the answer. It is these incomprehensible actions that persuade the gods to send cargo. To obtain cargo, the natives must employ the same rituals. Therefore they erect imitation radio aerials and march up and down in imitation uniforms.
Excited to be present at its epicentre just 19 years into the life of a new religion, the young David visited Tanna in 1955. There he met Nambas, the chief prophet of the John Frum cult. Nambas claimed to be in daily contact with John Frum using a special device called a long radio. After talking to him David decided he was either a charlatan or a madman.
Attenborough concluded that one cannot expect a people to make the jump from the Stone Age to the modern world in two or three generations without running the risk of mental dislocation.
Other uses of the term "cargo cult"The term "cargo cult" has caught the imagination of the public and is now used to describe a wide variety of phenomena that involve imitating external properties without the substance. In commerce, for example, successful products often result in copycat products that imitate the form but are usually of inferior quality. The brilliant physicist, Richard Feynman, warned against cargo cult science, which adheres to all the forms of scientific work but lacks the substance. His proposed remedy is rigorous scientific integrity, involving leaning over backwards to find fault with your own theory or experiment. Terrell says, "I don't think it's any exaggeration that Trumpism has all the earmarks of a cargo cult. It's about the power of belief. And the power of persuasion." Many see him as the Messiah who will bring back manufacturing to the US.
The cargo story is a warning to all of us not to be complacent by indulging in wishful thinking. A prominent example are the people who were sure that Trump could not win, so that they didn't bother to vote. Another category of examples are the get rich quick schemes, such as pyramid selling, eg Amway. Then there are the myriad forms of gambling, all capitalising on human desire.
In its broadest sense, cargo cult refers to any form of deception, especially self-deception. Who can claim to be totally immune to this characteristic human failing?
Looking dispassionately, one could argue that all religions are a form of cargo cult. By following the prescribed practices and rituals, adherents hope to obtain a spiritual bounty. Arguably, the cargo cultists are more rational than the adherents of other religions. After all, cargo was and is real, and the rituals of building airstrips and donning headphones did indeed bring forth cargo. However, the islanders' logic failed them because a coconut radio cannot substitute for a real one, and because they did not realise that delivering cargo was part of a much larger pattern of production, logistics and strategy. They did not know the actual reasons why cargo was delivered, but mistook what they observed as causing the end result. All of us occasionally err in the same way, attributing something as a cause when it merely happens by coincidence, or is one of a number of effects of a different underlying cause.
Someone observed that, "Like the islanders, most of us are many steps removed from the cargo that entirely shapes our lives." Cargo cults exemplify Arthur C. Clarke's third law: that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Who of us understands the internal intricacies of the omnipresent mobile phone?
Lamont Lindstrom: "The term, as metaphor, functions as a barely-disguised model of Western desire itself, although a desire that is displaced onto Melanesia: cargo cult is a just-so story about our peculiarly modern mode of desiring that is always ultimately unrequited, unquenchable, and never-ending."
A philosophical reflectionReflecting on the incomprehension of the Melanesians when faced with the fruits of Western technology, ie cargo, made me recall a science fiction story. In the story there is a computer that has all the answers to the most fundamental questions. Creatures from all over the universe come to interrogate the computer, but none are able to get answers to their basic questions. The reason is that the questions that they ask are too fragmentary to be answerable on their own terms. The conclusion given is that to ask a valid question you already have to know part of the answer. In other words, to approach the truth by asking the right question you must already have an inkling of the truth.
A small boy can ask, "Mum, why is it raining today?" Even if his mother were an eminent climate scientist, she would not be able to give a sensible answer. This is because climate is affected by a number of complex and interacting systems, which combine to produce our difficult to predict daily weather.
The question the natives asked was, How can we propitiate the gods in order to receive cargo? Their question was unanswerable because it was based on a fragmentary understanding of the situation. Even if the Melanesians had asked better questions, such as, Who makes the cargo? and, What is it made from?, it would not have helped them. This is because the answers are too complicated and require stepping out of the natives' traditional mind-set and into a modern one. Even if they could have understood, they would not have believed. Sadly, even if they had both understood and believed, there was little they could do to make the jump from poverty to Western affluence.
Though we live in an Information Age, various basic questions remain unanswered, such as, What is the Meaning of Life? Some partial answers are possible, but to ask the question in a global sense, to apply to all beings everywhere, is probably a mistake. To ask the question meaningfully we need to construct a framework within which meaning can be generated. Analogously to the problem for the Melanesians, this might require us to step outside our modern scientific world-view. Hopefully, without relapsing into magical thinking.
ConclusionI think that the development of the cargo cults, bizarre as it seems to us, was almost a natural result of the collision of a preliterate society with a technological one. If I had been born into that culture, I too might have joined a cargo cult. Rather than seeing the natives as naive or stupid, we should understand that they were reasoning within their traditional world view, trying to make sense of momentous and baffling developments. In doing so, they mirror what all of us do when we fail to understand what is really going on, ie we latch onto a plausible but false explanation. As the modern examples suggest, we should not feel superior to the islanders. Instead, it is better to take the cargo cults as a warning to us to avoid wishful thinking in all its myriad forms.
Subsequent to World War II, people in Tanna have been waiting over seventy years for the cargo to return. Then again, Christians have been waiting two thousand years for their guy to come back.