XII.
January 31, 1907.
PEOPLE in this country seem to expect that every traveler in the Congo must meet with crowds of people who have had one or both hands cut off. We have all seen pictures of these unfortunates, and have heard most harrowing tales in regard to them. Casement, the English consul, whose report to the British government has caused so much agitation, and who described many cases of mutilation, himself saw[A] but a single case; and that case, though put forward by the missionaries as an example of state atrocities, was finally withdrawn by them, as the subject had not been mutilated by human assailants, but by a wild boar. Casement traveled many miles and spent much time in securing the material for his indictment, and yet saw[B] but this one case. We saw a single case of mutilation. It was a boy at Ikoko, probably some twelve years old. He had been found, a child of three or four years, by the side of his dead mother, after a punitive expedition had visited the town. His mother’s body had been mutilated and the child’s hand cut off. We might have seen a second case of this sort at this place if we had searched for her. There is a second there.
No one, I think, would desire to excuse the barbarity of cutting off the hands of either dead or living, but we must remember that the soldiers in these expeditions are natives, and in the excitement and bloodthirst roused by a military attack they relapse to ancient customs. There has, indeed, been considerable question recently whether the cutting off of hands is really a native custom. Sir Francis de Winton, himself an Englishman, and Stanley’s successor in the administration of the Congo State, says that it was. And Glave says: “In every village in this section (Lukolela) will be found slaves of both sexes with one ear cut off. This is a popular form of punishment in an African village. It is not at all unusual to hear such threats as ‘I will cut your ear off,’ ‘I will sell you,’ or ‘I will kill you,’ and often they are said in earnest.” Where such customs were constant in native life it is not strange that they have lasted on into the present.
Of course, in this connection we must not forget that mutilation of dead bodies is not by any means confined to the Congo Free State, nor to its natives. Only a few months ago, in Southern Africa, the British force cut off the head of a hostile chief. When the matter was investigated, the excuse given was that it was done for purposes of identification, and that the body was afterwards brought in and buried with it.
The most of the difficulty with the natives of the Congo Free State, of course, comes in connection with the demand to gather rubber. The native hates the forest; he dislikes to gather rubber; it takes him from his home, and comfort, and wife. We have never accompanied a party of natives gathering rubber, but we have seen them started and have also seen them bringing in their product. The best rubber of the Congo is produced by vines which frequently grow to several inches in diameter. The same vine may be tapped many times. The milky juice, which exudes abundantly, promptly coagulates into rubber; as it hardens it is rolled into balls between the palm and some portion of the body, such as the chest or leg.
The place where we have seen most of rubber production is in the High Kasai, where the famous red rubber is produced, which sells for the highest price of any African caoutchouc. My missionary friends have told me that conditions in the Kasai are not bad and that they have no special fault to find with the Kasai company. While there were things that might be criticised, there was apparent fairness in the business. The natives waited several days after they had gathered their balls of rubber before bringing them in. This was for the reason that the company’s agent had but an unattractive stock of goods in his magazine at the moment; they preferred to wait until a new stock should come up on the expected steamer. As soon as it appeared they sent word that they might be expected the following day.
The old Bachoko chief, Maiila, was brought in state, in his blue hammock; his people came singing and dancing with the baskets full of balls of rubber on their heads. All proceeded to the magazine, where the great steelyards were suspended and the rubber weighed; each man looked carefully to see that his stock balanced evenly, and one of their number, who understood the instrument and could figure, stood by to see that all went fair. While the rubber was a demanded tax, a regular price of 1 franc and 25 centimes the kilo was paid. This was given in stuffs, of course, and the native selected what he pleased from the now abundant stock of cloths, blankets, graniteware, and so forth. It may truly be said that they came in singing gayly and went home glad.
At Mobandja we saw a large party setting out to the forest to gather rubber, different from any that we had seen before in that a considerable number of women formed a part of it. This feature I did not like, although I presume it is an effort to meet the criticisms of the report of the royal commission of investigation. The commission particularly criticised the fact that the men, in going into the forest, were deprived of the company of their women—a hardship strongly emphasized. It is surely a mistake, however well it may be meant, to send the women into the forest with the men to gather rubber. Such a procedure involves the neglect of her fields and interrupts the woman’s work.
And here we touch upon the thing which in my opinion is the worst feature of the whole Congo business. Anything that affects the woman’s work necessarily brings hardship. I have seen many heart-rending statements in regard to the loss of work time which the man suffers by going to the forest to gather rubber. We are told that by the time he has gone several days’ journey into the dense forest, gathered his balls of rubber, and returned again to his village, he has no time left for work, and his family and the whole community suffers as a consequence. But from what work does this gathering of rubber take the man?
We have already called attention to the fact that the support of the family and the actual work in any village fall upon the woman. The man, before he went into the forest to gather rubber, had no pressing duties. His wife supported him; he spent his time in visiting, dancing, lolling under shelters, drinking with his friends, or in palavers, sometimes of great importance but frequently of no consequence; in other words, he was an idler, or a man of leisure. I feel no sorrow on account of the labors from which he is restrained. Personally, I should have no objection to his idling. If he does not want to work and need not work, I see no reason why he should not idle. But my readers are practical men, who talk much of the dignity of labor and the elevation of the lazy negro. Very good; if work is dignified and the elevation of the negro necessary, let him collect rubber, but do not mourn over the fact that he is deprived of opportunity to earn a living for himself and family.
There is, indeed, one set of circumstances under which the man may really be deprived of opportunity to aid in the work of gaining a living. Where the men in a community are really fishermen—they are not always so—to take them from their fishing entails a hardship.
The thing which seems to me the worst is the kwanga tax on women and the fish tax on men. The former is at its worst, perhaps, in Leopoldville; the latter is bad enough at Nouvelle Anvers. Leopoldville is situated in a district which yields much less for food than necessary. It has always been so. Even in the days before the white man came, the people in the native villages on Stanley Pool were obliged to buy food supplies from outside, as they themselves, being devoted to trading, did no cultivation. With the coming of the white man, and the establishing of a great post at Leopoldville, with thousands of native workmen and soldiers to be fed, the food question became serious. The state has solved the problem by levying a food tax on the native villages for many miles around.
The women are required to bring a certain amount of kwanga—native cassava bread—to Leopoldville within a stated period of time. To do this involves almost continuous labor, and really leaves the women little time for attending to the needs of their own people. Some of them are forced to come many miles with the supply of bread. When they have cared for the growing plants in their fields, prepared the required stint of kwanga, brought it the weary distance over the trails, and again come back to their village, they must begin to prepare for the next installment. For this heavy burden there must certainly be found some remedy. Personally, it seems to me that the women belonging to the workmen and the soldiers might be utilized in cultivating extensive fields to supply the need. The condition of the men who pay the fish tax is analogous to that of these kwanga-taxed women.
The question of the population of the Congo is an unsettled one. Stanley estimated it at 29,000,000 people; Reclus, in 1888, estimated it at something over 20,000,000; Wagner and Supan claimed 17,000,000, and Vierkandt sets the figure at 11,000,000. The governor-general, Baron Wahis, who has several times made the inspection of the whole river, is inclined to think that even Stanley’s figure is below the true one. Between these limits of 11,000,000 and 29,000,000 any one may choose which he prefers. No one knows, or is likely for many years to know. Those who believe that Stanley’s figure was true in its time, and that Vierkandt’s is true at present, may well insist, as they do, that depopulation is taking place.
Personally, I have no doubt that depopulation is going on. Of course, the enemies of the Free State government attribute the diminution in population chiefly to the cruelties practiced by the state, but it is certain that many causes combine in the result.
The distribution of the Congo population is exceedingly irregular. From Stanley Pool to Chumbiri there has been almost no population during the period of our knowledge. On the other hand, from Basoko to Stanley Falls the population is abundant and there is almost a continuous line of native villages along the banks for miles. Practically, the state of population is really known only along the river banks. Back from the riverines are inland tribes, the areas of which in some cases are but sparsely settled, while in others they swarm. They are, however, little known, and just how the population is distributed is uncertain. The district which we personally best know—the Kasai—is one of the most populous of all the Congo State, and around the Sankuru, one of the main tributaries of the Kasai, we perhaps have the densest population of the country. If we take Stanley’s estimate as accurate, the population would average twelve to the square kilometer.
Among known causes for the diminution of Congo population we may mention first the raiding expeditions of the Arabs. These were numerous and destructive in the extreme, throughout the region of the Upper Congo and the Lualaba. Organized for taking slaves and getting booty, they destroyed ruthlessly the adult male population and deported the women and children. Towns were burned and whole districts left unoccupied. There is no question that many of the punitive expeditions of the state have been far more severe than necessity demanded; “the people must be shown the power of Bula Matadi.” It is said that Vankerckhoven’s expedition destroyed whole towns needlessly in the district of Chumbiri and Bolobo. Certainly, the population in this section was formerly abundant. Everywhere along the shores one sees the groups of palm trees marking the sites of former villages; probably the present population is no more than one fourth that which existed formerly.
Throughout the whole district, where the French Congo touches on the river, it is a common thing for timid or disgruntled villagers to move en masse across the river into French territory. These wholesale removals are an advantage to the natives, as that portion of the French Congo is less well occupied by white posts and government officials than the corresponding part of the Congo Free State. The natives who have thus removed unquestionably have an easier time in the French colony. This, however, can hardly be called depopulation, as it involves no loss in persons, but merely a transfer from the Free State side to the other. It does not at all affect the actual number of the race.
Sleeping-sickness is carrying off its tens of thousands.
But after we suggest these causes we are still far from a full solution of the problem of depopulation, which is a mysterious thing. In Polynesia we have another example of it on a prodigious scale. In Polynesia we have neither slave raids, nor punitive expeditions, nor sleeping-sickness. Yet, adults die and children are not born. If things continue in the future as in the past, the time is not far distant when the Polynesian—one of the most interesting and attractive of human races—will be a thing completely of the past.
The case of our own American Indians is similar. Whole tribes have disappeared; others are dying out so rapidly that a few years will see their complete extinction. I am familiar with the arguments which, from time to time, are printed to demonstrate that the number of American Indians is as great as ever. It seems, however, that it is only rich tribes that hold their own; the reason is not far to seek, but we may not here pursue the argument further.