Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language: An ethnolinguistic study (Culture and Language Use)

Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Culture and Language Use Studies in Anthropological Linguistics CLU-SAL publishes monographs and edited collections, culturally oriented grammars and dictionaries in the cross- and interdisciplinary domain of antropological linguistics or linguistic anthropology. The series offers a forum for anthropological research based on knowledge of the native languages of the people being studied and that linguistic research and grammatical studies must be based on a deep understanding of the function of speech forms in the speech community under study.

Editor Gunter Senft

Max Planck Institute for Psycholinguistics, Nijmegen

Volume 2 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language. An ethnolinguistic study by Svenja Völkel

Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language An ethnolinguistic study

Svenja Völkel University of Mainz

John Benjamins Publishing Company Amsterdam / Philadelphia

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TM

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences – Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ansi z39.48-1984.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Völkel, Svenja. Social structure, space and possession in Tongan culture and language : An ethnolinguistic study / Svenja Völkel. p. cm. (Culture and Language Use, issn 1879-5838 ; v. 2) Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Sociolinguistics--Polynesia. 2. Tongan language--Social aspects. 3. Space and time in language. 4. Cognition and culture--Polynesia. I. Title. P40.45.P65V65   2010 306.440996--dc22 2010028220 isbn 978 90 272 0283 3 (Hb ; alk. paper) isbn 978 90 272 8772 4 (Eb)

© 2010 – John Benjamins B.V. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by print, photoprint, microfilm, or any other means, without written permission from the publisher. John Benjamins Publishing Co. · P.O. Box 36224 · 1020 me Amsterdam · The Netherlands John Benjamins North America · P.O. Box 27519 · Philadelphia pa 19118-0519 · usa

Table of contents List of maps, figures and tables Acknowledgements Symbols and abbreviations chapter 1 Introduction 1.1 Ethnolinguistics  1 1.2 Fieldwork and research methods  3 1.3 The ethnographic setting  6 1.3.1 Tonga  7 1.3.2 The village of Niutoua  15 1.4 The Tongan language  20

ix xiii xv

1

part i. Anthropological issues chapter 2 Social structure 2.1 Kin and the personal social status within the kin group  27 2.1.1 Social units  28 2.1.2 Kinship terminology  30 2.1.3 Social status and corresponding behaviour within the kin group (kāinga)  34 2.1.4 Kinship terminology and social status within the kāinga  41 2.2 Societal ranking  43 2.2.1 Classes or societal groups  43 2.2.2 Ha‘a ranking  49 2.2.3 Speech preludes  51 2.3 Interaction of a person’s social status within the kāinga and their societal rank  54 2.3.1 Social status within the kāinga of the Tu‘i Tonga  54 2.3.2 Situations of conflict  56

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 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

chapter 3 Land and the symbolic meaning of space 3.1 Land tenure  57 3.2 Local groups  64 3.3 The geography of the islands and the use of land and sea  66 3.4 Land shortage and migration  67 3.5 The symbolic meaning of space  68 3.5.1 Seating order in a kava circle  69 3.5.2 Seating order and spatial symbols for special rank or status  74 chapter 4 Possession and gift exchange 4.1 The economy  78 4.1.1 Agriculture, livestock and fishing  79 4.1.2 Production and use of koloa  82 4.2 Gift exchange  85 4.2.1 Gift exchange and private events  87 4.2.2 Gift exchange and civic events  89 4.2.3 Gift exchange and church events  91 4.3 Remittances and the role of money  92

57

77

chapter 5 Conclusion: connecting remarks on social structure, space and possession

97

Photo illustrations

101

part ii. Linguistic issues chapter 6 Spatial descriptions 6.1 Different frames of reference  106 6.2 Peculiarities of spatial reference in the Oceanic language family  112 6.3 Tongan spatial markers  113 6.4 The use of different frames of reference in Tongan  124 6.4.1 Spatial representation of Niutoua  124 6.4.2 Non-linguistic perception of space  126

105



Table of contents 

6.4.3 Spatial descriptions  129 6.4.3.1 Linguistic realisation of the frames of reference  131 6.4.3.2 Linguistic use of the frames of reference  138 6.4.4 Linguistic and non-linguistic coding of space  144 6.5 Space as a social component  147 6.6 Conclusion  153 chapter 7 A‑ and O‑possession 7.1 Terminology and definitions concerning linguistic possession  155 7.2 Tongan possessive markers (morphosyntax)  158 7.3 The semantics of A‑ and O‑possession  164 7.3.1 Theories explaining the difference between A‑ and O‑possession  165 7.3.2 A semantic analysis of A‑ and O‑possession in Tongan  176 7.3.2.1 Defining A and O in Tongan  176 7.3.2.2 The use of A and O with Tongan kinship terms  182 7.4 Conclusion  193 chapter 8 The language of respect 8.1 Social deixis: Honorifics  196 8.2 Western Polynesian languages of respect  198 8.3 The Tongan language of respect (compared to Samoan)  200 8.3.1 Defining lexical levels in Tongan  203 8.3.2 The Tongan vocabulary of respect (semantic forms)  213 8.3.3 The use of Tongan respect forms (context)  223 8.3.3.1 The use of the language of respect at a village level (Niutoua)  229 8.3.3.2 The use of the language of respect within the royal family  232 8.4 Conclusion  237

155

195

chapter 9 Conclusions

239

References

245

appendix 1 Question catalogue of the Niutouan inquiry (in English and Tongan)

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 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

appendix 2 Lists of A- and O-possessed semantic categories and single items in different Polynesian languages

257

appendix 3 List of A- and O-possessed semantic categories and single concrete nouns in Tongan according to Churchward (cf. 1953: 81–87)

261

Glossary of Tongan terms

267

Index

271

List of maps, figures and tables List of maps Map 1.1 Map 1.2 Map 1.3 Map 1.4 Map 3.1 Map 6.1

South Pacific and the Polynesian Triangle  8 Islands of the Kingdom of Tonga  9 Tongatapu island  11 The village of Niutoua (town allotments)  16 Estates on Tongatpu  61 Mental map of Niutoua (exercise 2 of the inquiry)  125

List of figures Figure 1.1 Figure 2.1 Figure 2.2 Figure 2.3 Figure 2.4 Figure 3.1 Figure 6.1a Figure 6.1b Figure 6.2 Figure 6.3 Figure 6.4 Figure 6.5 Figure 6.6 Figure 6.7 Figure 6.8 Figure 6.9 Figure 6.10 Figure 6.11 Figure 6.12

The Polynesian subgroup  21 Social status within the kāinga from a male perspective  37 Social status within the kāinga from a female perspective  37 Genealogy of royal title holders  45 Ha‘a affiliation of nōpele titles  51 Kava circle of the Tu‘i Kanokupolu  71 Spatial situation of Example 1 (relative reading)  107 Spatial situation of Example 1 (intrinsic reading)  107 Spatial situation of Example 2 (absolute frame of reference)  108 Feature distinction according to Levinson  108 Underlying design of the non-linguistic experiment  111 Underlying design of the non-linguistic experiment (exercise 3 of the inquiry)  127 Spatial situation during the description of Example 48  136 Spatial situation of the interview  137 Continuum of the use of the absolute and relative frames of reference  145 Spatial coordinates of a Tongan house  148 Spatial coordinates of a Tongan church (a. basic; b. reflection)  149 Spatial coordinates of the hall of the Wesleyan church in Niutoua (at a big feast)  151 Spatial coordinates of a Tongan village  152

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Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Figure 7.1 Figure 7.2

Bennardo’s illustration of his spatial definition of A‑ and O‑possession  175 Reciprocal kinship relations (a. fakafotu‑mehekitanga relationship; b. ilamutu‑fa‘ē tangata/tu‘asina relationship)

186

List of tables Table 1.1 Table 2.1 Table 2.2 Table 3.1 Table 5.1 Table 6.1 Table 6.2 Table 6.3 Table 6.4 Table 6.5 Table 6.6 Table 6.7 Table 6.8 Table 7.1 Table 7.2 Table 7.3 Table 7.4 Table 7.5 Table 7.6 Table 7.7 Table 7.8 Table 7.9 Table 7.10 Table 8.1 Table 8.2

Population and size of island groups  10 Tongan kinship terminology  32 Kinship terms and corresponding status (for kin who are related through not more than one connecting relative)  43 Nōpele and matāpule titles and their hereditary estates (tofia)  59 Visualisation of social and societal structures  99 The different frames of reference and the deictic versus non-deictic distinction  109 Tongan spatial prepositions  113 Tongan directionals  117 Tongan spatial nouns  119 Use of the different frames of reference for non-linguistic spatial perception  129 Use of different linguistic structures in various kinds of spatial descriptions  141 Frames of reference in short distance descriptions  142 Use of the absolute and relative frames of reference for linguistic and cognitive coding  146 Tongan articles  159 Tongan personal pronouns  159 Tongan A‑possessive pronouns (set 1: premodifying)  161 Tongan O‑possessive pronouns (set 1: premodifying)  161 Tongan possessive pronouns (set 2: predicative)  163 Tongan benefactive pronouns  164 A‑ and O‑possessed semantic categories (according to Churchward)  172 A‑ and O‑possessed terms describing kinship relations and other personal relationships in Tongan  183 Kinship relations and ‘simple control theory’  184 Kinship relations and ‘initial control theory’  189 Status differences according to honorific types  197 Differences of rank and appropriate use of honorific vocabulary in Tongan  202



Table 8.3 Table 8.4 Table 8.5 Table 8.6 Table 8.7 Table 8.8 Table 8.9 Table 8.10 Table 8.11 Table 8.12 Table 8.13

List of maps, figures and tables 

List of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Gifford)  203 List of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Shumway)  203 List of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Ko e tohi kalama mo e lea Tonga)  204 Categories of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Milner)  204 List of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Churchward)  205 List of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Taliai)  205 Categorisation of Tongan honorific vocabulary according to different approaches  206 List of Tongan honorific vocabulary  210 Terms with respectful equivalents  220 General rules according to which the three lexical levels are used  224 Specific rules according to which of the three lexical levels are use  235

Acknowledgements Since the planning period of this research project, during my field research in Tonga itself, and up until the completion of this publication, I have been blessed with the support of many people and organisations, all contributing greatly to this work. First of all, I would like to thank Walter Bisang (Institute of Linguistics at the University of Mainz, Germany) and Jürg Wassmann (Institute of Social Anthropology at the University of Heidelberg, Germany) for their great and continuous support of my study. My thanks also go to all the other scholars who generously contributed to my research project with their specific knowledge, experience and recommendations. They include Paul van der Grijp, Françoise Douaire-Marsaudon, Ross Clark, Robin Hooper, Frantisek Lichtenberk, Melenaite Taumoefolau, Paul Geraghty, Gunter Senft, William Foley, Stig Eliasson, Ulrike Mosel, Phyllis Herda, Jürgen Broschart, Giovanni Bennardo, Hermann Mückler, Tobias Lombardi, Wonu Veys, the Oceania Workgroup at the University of Heidelberg and others. Inspiring discussions with all these specialists on issues in Oceanic anthropology and linguistics helped me to develop the arguments in my work. A special mention is due to Marion Grein and Robert Mitchell for careful proofreading. Furthermore, I feel great gratitude to Gunter Senft and the team of Benjamins for considering my monograph for publication. In Tonga, the kind assistance of Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita, ‘Aisea Hingano and ‘Ungatea Fonua Kata contributed greatly to this research. Mālō ‘aupito for their time and patience to share their knowledge about Tongan language and culture with me and to critically comment on several aspects of my manuscript from a reflective Tongan perspective. I am also very grateful to Naule‘o Fifita for her help with transcriptions and translations. Furthermore, I would like to say mālo ‘aupito to all the other Tongan informants, such as Futa Helu (also for the access to the library at ‘Atenisi), Lia Maka and Sālote Fukofuka (also for the access to the Polynesian section of the library at USP), Kalisi Matoto Fine, Seini Filiai, Tuna Fielakepa, Hon. Albert Tu‘ivanuavou Vaea, Sosiua Lotaki, Vatau and employees of the Ministry of Lands and Survey and other institutions. I also owe special gratitude to Mike Jones, the team of Heilala and ‘Anau Paletu‘a for their support during the initial research period – they provided me with valuable contacts, practical advices, language tuition and a home base.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

To the people of Niutoua, I wish to express my special gratitude for their warm hospitality and their contribution to this research. Mālō ‘aupito to all those who patiently answered my questions and let me participate in their activities. In particular, I am very grateful to Melaia and ‘Inoke Folau and their family for taking such very good care of me and for putting me up as a family member. Altogether, I have spent a wonderful and precious time in Tonga with lasting experiences and friendships. For the permission to carry out this research I wish to express my appreciation to the government of King Tupou IV. In this context, a special mention is due to the German consul Carl Sanft for his recommendation of my research project. My one-year fieldwork in Tonga was funded by a research scholarship for graduates of the German Academic Exchange Service (DAAD: Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst) – thank you for this financial support. Above all, I owe special thanks to my husband Lars, my parents and my sister. Lars has constantly encouraged and supported my project to conduct research in Tonga. The short visits from him and my sister have helped me to share my Tongan experience with close confidants. Unfortunately, my parents did not have the opportunity to come to Tonga, but they have always supported my interests and educational career. Without all this encouragement and support during the last years, I would not have been able to present the publication of this study. Finally, I dedicate this book to my daughter Sina.

Symbols and abbreviations A reference or anchor point; A-possessive morpheme abl ablative ABS absolutive adj adjective (syntactically) adv adverb (syntactically) all allative ANAPH anaphoric pronoun art article B brother; bystander BEN benefactive C coordinate system comp comparative D daughter dl dual dem demonstrative DIR directional e older emot emotional emph emphatic ERG ergative excl exclusive F father; figure fut future G generation; ground object H hearer incl inclusive loc locative M mother N noun (syntactically) NOM nominalisation NP noun phrase O O-possessive morpheme OBJ object

ord ordinary P preposition perf perfect pl plural POSS possessive particle PP prepositional phrase pr presentative particle pres present R referent S son; speaker sg singular sit situation spat spatial spec specific SUBJ subject TA tense-aspect particle unspec unspecific or non-specific V verb (syntactically) y younger Z sister 1 first person 2 second person 3 third person ☻ male ego ☺ female ego  male  female marriage partners siblings   � generational bond, i.e. ‘descendant of ’ G: –2 second ascending generation G: 0 ego’s generation G: +1 first descending generation

chapter 1

Introduction The main interest of this study is the connection between language, culture and cognition in Tonga (Polynesia) focussing upon the aspects of social structure, space and possession. In the highly stratified Tongan society, the hierarchical social structure is expressed by spatial and possessive categories, such as access to land, sitting order and gift exchange processes. Thus, the anthropological part of this study not only provides a detailed description of social structure, space and possession from an anthropological point of view but also reveals the interrelation between these three aspects. Furthermore, it is conspicuous that social structure, space and possession also exhibit particular linguistic features: an honorific system called language of respect, a possessive system which distinguishes between two possessive categories (A- and O-possession) and spatial descriptions using absolute coordinates (up-down) and sociocultural parameters. Consequently, the idea of this research was to analyse whether a relationship between these specific linguistic particularities and cultural structures exists. Based on cultural background information, the linguistic part examines this question and reveals the nature of the relationship between language and culture. This ethnolinguistic study is drawn from one year of field research in Tonga; the anthropological data was mainly collected in the village of Niutoua while most linguistic data is a result of interviews with particular people around Nuku‘alofa, the capital of Tonga. In the following sections, I will describe the theoretical and empirical background of this study. 1.1  Ethnolinguistics Ethnolinguistics is an interdisciplinary field based on linguistics and social anthropology which is concerned with the relationship between language and culture. As a student and lecturer of linguistics and social anthropology, I have developed an interest in analysing language in its wider social and cultural context. ­Ethnolinguistic studies regard language as a social and cultural instrument and try to uncover the cultural meaning behind linguistic structures and language use (cf. Duranti 1997: 1–5; Foley 1997: 3).

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Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

My interest is to reveal and analyse a connection between Tongan language and culture for the aspects of social structure, space and possession. Tonga is a highly stratified culture and this inequality in status or rank is expressed in various cultural practices, such as access to land, spatial sitting orders and the flow of mutual support and traditional wealth items in gift exchange processes. Particularly at special occasions of cultural importance these practices construct an elaborate visual representation of ranked social networks. It is not surprising therefore that social structure is also expressed by linguistic means, such as the classification of kinship terminology, the language of respect and speech preludes. Thus, language can be regarded as a further cultural practice or tool to visualise the social system (besides the sitting order and the flow of gifts). In order to fulfil this function, the linguistic systems are structured in a way suitable to expressing the socially and culturally important categories (cf. Lynch 1998: 251). Apart from linguistic structure, honorific systems (such as the language of respect) are also examined in their communicative context. Rank and status relations may even be created and negotiated through language (cf. Duranti 1992; Keating 1998). Consequently, speaking can be regarded as a social act in which speakers construct culture. Kinship terminologies and spatial descriptions have often been analysed and discussed by cognitive anthropologists and linguists in terms of universalistic and relativistic schools of thought. While universalists proceed from the assumption that there are underlying innate constraints which are the same for all human socie­ties and languages, relativists rather point out that kinship systems and spatial descriptions are language-specific (cf. Foley 1997: 131–149, 215–229). These different linguistic systems are determined by culture-specific underlying principles and cognitive factors. Psycholinguistic approaches (cf. Levinson 1996a) have revealed that the languages of the world use different frames of reference to describe spatial relations, i.e. the type of spatial description is language-specific and may be determined by landscape and sociocultural factors (cf. Bennardo 2000a). Furthermore, there is a systematic correlation between cognition and language; the frame of reference used by speakers of a certain language in spatial descriptions corresponds to the cognitive spatial orientation of its speakers. The use of different possessive categories (such as A- and O-possession in Polynesian languages) has often been analysed to determine an underlying semantic (and cognitive) structure. Relevant factors for this differentiation might be the perceived spatial proximity between the possessive entities or the concept of control. In this context, it is interesting that kinship terms have often been described as prototypically inalienable possessions (O-possession), i.e. possessions that cannot be acquired (cf. Heine 1997: 10–11). However, in most Polynesian languages not all kinship relations are expressed by the same possessive category. This raises



Chapter 1.  Introduction

the question of whether cultural factors (such as the social stratification between relatives or even the conceptualisation of the world) affect the choice of the possessive category (cf. Thornton 1998). In this case, linguistic forms or even grammar would be an expression of cultural differentiations. All these topics demonstrate that linguistic forms and language use are anchored in cognitive and cultural systems which have to be expressed. However, culture and cognition do not only support the existence of certain linguistic structures. At the same time, language also maintains and stabilises important cultural and cognitive structures or even (re)produces culture. Thus, language, cognition and culture seem to influence each other. In order to reveal and analyse such connections between conspicuous linguistic features and important cultural structures in Tonga, I have approached the ­topics of this study (social structure, space and possession) from an anthropological (Chapters 2 to 5) as well as linguistic point of view (Chapters 6 to 8). The anthropological description and analysis thus enabling the subsequent examination of “language through the lenses of anthropological concern” (Duranti 1997: 4).

1.2  Fieldwork and research methods The concept of this ethnolinguistic study was developed after an orientation visit to the South Pacific in 2001. Subsequently I contacted several linguists and social anthropologists specialising in Oceanic (or even Polynesian or Tongan) studies to discuss the project, and received practical advice and encouragement. During this time and prior to fieldwork I also started learning Tongan (with Shumway’s ‘Intensive Course in Tongan’). This study is based on two periods of fieldwork. The first period of nine months was conducted from September 2002 to May 2003 and the shorter second period from October to December 2004. This timing was chosen to collect material during the longer first period of field research and to analyse it afterwards. The second period then made it possible to gather further specific material and supplementary information to questions which arose from the data analysis, and to verify hypotheses. After I returned from the first period of fieldwork in Tonga, I presented the topics of my research at the universities of Auckland (New Zealand), Heidelberg (Germany) and Aix-Marseille (France). These talks were a great opportunity to discuss the first results of my research with several linguists and social anthropologists focussed on Oceania and Tonga before the second period of fieldwork. Upon my initial arrival in Tonga I spent approximately two months around the capital Nuku‘alofa on Tongatapu to arrange the research formalities and to

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Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

organise my fieldwork. During this time, I also had some private language lessons and contacted several people who became important to the successful progress of my research. An American Peace Corps volunteer (who had already lived in Tonga for a year at that time) helped me to find a Tongan family out of town who would accept me into their home. During the two periods of field research I lived most of the time with ‘Inoke and Melaia Folau and their six sons (Manako, Kilikiti, Paula, ‘Ofa, Leni and Fohe) in the village of Niutoua where I learned to live the Tongan way (anga fakatonga). I considered this village in the far east of Tongatapu to be appropriate for the research as it is far away from Nuku‘alofa (about an hour’s drive by bus) and consequently still has a traditional village structure and life with far less Western influence. During my stays in Tonga, I also visited other islands of the archipelago with differing infrastructure, geography and cultural peculiarities, such as ‘Eua, islands of the Ha‘apai group (Ha‘ano, Lifuka and Foa) and the Vava‘u group, to gain a wider insight into Tongan life and its varieties (for example, while Tongatapu is famous for tapa making, the Tongans in Ha‘apai mostly weave mats). Most data of this study (especially the anthropological) was collected among the inhabitants of Niutoua. While I stayed in the village, I also regularly went to Nuku‘alofa where I interviewed several Tongans that I considered to be specialists in Tongan culture and language about specific (mainly linguistic) aspects of my research. The data collection of my fieldwork comprises a wide variety of anthropological and linguistic data about the aspects of space, possession and social structure providing (in addition to former approaches) the empirical background for this study. The mainly qualitative data was collected according to anthropological and linguistic standards, that is traditional participant-observation was combined with different interview methods (cf. Duranti 1997: 99–110). Upon arriving in Niutoua, I began to observe and participate in daily life – in the beginning more within the family, and once I had learned to behave more in the Tongan way, they let me interact within the village, especially among the women. At a later stage I also tried to learn about the men’s life but this was extremely difficult due to the gender-specific work and taboos, making it delicate for me as a woman to approach male adolescents. Besides my research diary, I took thematic notes about observations concerning my research and discussed them with my Tongan family. This was of particular importance, especially in the beginning, because I often received no answers (or contradictory ones). This resulted from typical principles of Tongan communication, such as avoiding the answer ‘I don’t know’ or giving the answer that might be expected. Once I had learned who I could ask what in which situation, and how to recognise and interpret the interviewee’s reactions and actual behaviour, this problem was solved. This development ran parallel to the way I was treated – in the beginning as a guest, then



Chapter 1.  Introduction

to a certain point like Tongan children who still have much to learn, and finally, I graduated to a grown-up member of the family and the village. Besides the participant observation and occasional conversations with various members of the village community who I believed to be particularly knowledgeable about specific aspects of my research (such as the chief ’s wife, a matāpule, the town officer, teachers, priests, and other men or women of different age and with different skills), I conducted 25 structured interviews with Tongans living in ­Niutoua to assemble comparable data. These interviews contained 34 specific questions about the informant, his household structure, ownership and inheritance of allotment, work and attitude towards possession and values, movement to different places, language of respect, and exercises on spatial orientation and descriptions (Appendix 1: Question catalogue of the Niutouan inquiry). Apart from the last three questions and the four exercises testing linguistic behaviour, these interviews mainly provided ethnological material about the person’s attitude and behaviour concerning space and possession and his/her family background. In particular the information about social relations led to a better understanding of the social structure as a whole and interactions within the village. The interview questions were asked in Tongan after the question catalogue was translated with the help of a Tongan native speaker. The answers were given in Tongan, English or a mixture of both languages, depending on the informant’s language knowledge and his preference in talking to me as a non-Tongan. However, I explicitly asked the informants to at least do the exercises in Tongan, as it was especially important for the spatial orientation and descriptions. I took notes of the informants’ answers and I tape-recorded exercise 4 which was transcribed later by Naule‘o Fifita, a Tongan native speaker living in Nuku‘alofa. Except for exercise 1 and 2 asking the informants to do drawings, the interview was conducted orally. After each interview, I marked the allotment of the informant (question 7) which mostly coincided with the place of the interview on a village map. The informants were chosen randomly as it is difficult to make appointments. I walked around the village at different times and stopped at various houses where I met people who had the time (about 20 minutes) to answer my questions. In order to gather representative and broadly based information within the village, I paid attention to the fact that the 25 informants were of different age groups and different sex. Furthermore, I only interviewed one person per household (also in order to get more information about different households because each interview contained not only information about the individual but also about their household). For most Tongans, 20 minutes was a long time to concentrate on my questions and two informants actually did not finish the interview – one of them had to leave and asked his brother to answer the last questions for him.

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Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

In addition to the interviews and conversations in Niutoua, I talked to various people around Nuku‘alofa about specific aspects of my research. Most information about the language of respect is the result of several interviews with Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita, the daughter of HRH Princess Sālote Mafile‘o Pilolevu and thus the granddaughter of His Majesty King Taufa‘ahau Tupou IV. As a member of the royal family, she regularly interacts with people of different societal rank, and therefore, has special knowledge about appropriate honorific behaviour, including the language of respect. With ‘Aisea Hingano, an assistant senior education officer for Tongan ­language at the Curriculum Development Unit, I had numerous discussions about spatial descriptions, the language of respect and especially A- and O-possession. We not only went through lists of grammatical and ungrammatical examples and respective contexts, but also discussed possible cultural backgrounds for the linguistic phenomena. ‘Ungatea Fonua Kata, who married Laiseni from Niutoua in 2002 and completed her Ph.D. in sociolinguistics at the University of Wellington (New Zealand) in 2003, was an informant for cultural traditions as well as linguistic aspects. She provided me with cultural background information about events in which I was a participant observer and we discussed several (mainly linguistic) aspects of my research. After her graduation, she returned to Tonga and has since become an English teacher at Queen Sālote College. Furthermore, I contacted Vatau (a Tongan language teacher at the Teacher’s Training College) to obtain more linguistic data from him and his students. Apart from these very important, primarily linguistic, informants, I had several other interviews about anthropological topics with Futa Helu (founding head of the Tongan Atenisi University), Hon. Albert Tu‘ivanuavou Vaea (­secretary of the Tonga Traditions Committee), Tuna Fielakepa (deputy chairperson of the women’s cooperative Langafonua) and Sosiua Lotaki (distance education and communication centre). For additional information about land (for example registration, inheritance, etc., including rights and maps) and village statistics, I talked to several people at the Ministry of Lands and Survey, the Statistics Department (Seini Filiai) and the Ministry of Justice (Linda).

1.3  The ethnographic setting The regional focus of this research is the Oceanic island state Tonga. This section gives an overview of ethnographic setting beginning with a general introduction into Tonga’s geography, population and its social and political organisation, ­following on with a specific description of the village of Niutoua, its structure, people and village life observed during my field research.



Chapter 1.  Introduction

1.3.1  Tonga a.  Geography and the population in its ecological environment The Kingdom of Tonga is an archipelago in the South Pacific which culturally belongs to Polynesia. It is situated between 15° and 24° south latitude and 173° and 178° west longitude, which is south-east of Fiji, south-west of Western Samoa, north-east of New Zealand and west of Niue (cf. Map 1.1). Tonga consists of about 150 islands that are scattered over more than 32,000 km² of ocean. The approximately 700 km² surface area of the islands is comparatively small in relation to the total sea surface. The population of about 100,000 is distributed over the 36 inhabited islands (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 12–13; Tongan Government 1999: 1).1 Archaeological evidence (Lapita pottery) and linguistic evidence (the interrelationship of Austronesian languages) show that Tonga was settled from Fiji and Melanesia around 1000 B.C. The settlers originally came from the Asian mainland and with their great skills in seamanship and navigation they explored the South Pacific and finally Polynesia (cf. Lynch 1998: 51–57; ­Campbell 2001: 17–25).2 As there has been very little immigration since then, today still more than 95% of the population are Tongans. The remaining five percent are part-Tongans, Europeans, other Pacific Islanders and Asians (cf. Tongan ­Government 1999: xxi–xxii). Today, a great number of Tongans even live overseas, mainly in New Zealand, Australia and the United States. For administrative purposes, Tonga is divided into three main groups: the Tongatapu, Ha‘apai and Vava‘u group (cf. Map 1.2). The Tongatapu group in the south includes Tongatapu Island, where the capital Nuku‘alofa is situated, ‘Eua, some smaller islands north of Tongatapu of which ‘Eueiki and Atata are inhabited, and the uninhabited island ‘Ata about 160 km south of Tongatapu. The Ha‘apai group consists of mainly small islands (the biggest island is Lifuka with the regional capital of Pangai) and lies in the middle between the Tongatapu group in the

.  The data concerning the population size is based on the most recent population census published by the Tongan Statistics Department in 1996. The next census is planned for 2006, and until then a slight population increase is expected. This assumption is based on past population development: 77,429 in 1966, 90,085 in 1976, 94,649 in 1986 and 97,784 in 1996 (cf. Tongan Government 1999: vi, xiii). .  The Pacific was settled from Southeast Asia. This settlement took place in three steps or migra­tion waves in which the migration to Polynesia was the last. At previous stages, first Indonesia and then the larger Melanesian islands were settled. Finally, people migrated further from Melanesia to the small and widespread Micronesian and Polynesian islands. Within Polynesia, settlement started in the area of Tonga and Samoa and spread until finally also encompassing the outermost areas like Hawai‘i, Easter Island and New Zealand (cf. Bellwood 1978).



NEW

PALAU

SOLOMON ISLANDS

NAURU

TONGA

NEW ZEALAND

FIJI

NIUE

SAMOA

TOKELAU

ISLANDS

COOK

PHOENX ISLANDS

TY

CIE

SO AN DS

ISL

U

IS

140°W

OT

AM

TU

AUSTRAL ISLANDS

DS

VANUATU

ROTUMA

TUVALU

GILBERT ISLANDS

MARSHALL ISLANDS

LAN

NEW CALEDONIA

ISL AN D

HAWAIIAN ISLANDS

E IS

Map 1.1.  South Pacific and the Polynesian Triangle

INE A

GU

CAROLINE

MARIANA ISLANDS

180°

LIN

AUSTRALIA

PHILIPPINES

140°E

PITCAIRN

ND S

LA

MARQUESAS ISLANDS

EASTER ISLANDS

20°S

0°

USA

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language



Chapter 1.  Introduction

south and the Vava‘u group in the north. The regional capital of the Vava‘u group (which is bigger than the Ha‘apai group) is Neiafu, famous for its natural harbour. The regional capitals (Neiafu as well as Pangai) are the politico-juridical, ­cultural, commercial, educational and administrative centres of each island group ­accommodating local markets, secondary schools, hospitals, police stations and post offices, etc. The Vava‘u group also includes Niuatoputapu and Niuafo‘ou which are also called the Niuas. These remote islands are located about 300 km north of Neiafu and they are administered from Nuku‘alofa 176°

Tonga Niuafo`ou Niuatoputapu

National capital

Tafahi 16°

Intenal administrative capital

NIUAS (administered from Nuku`alofa) 0 0

50

100 Kilometers 50

100 Miles

Fonualei Toku

VAVA`U

S O U T H

Vava`u Neiafu

Late

P A C I F I C O C E A N Tofua

Fonuato`ou

Kao Pangai

Nomuka

Ha`ano Foa Lifuka `Uiha

HA`APAI

Tongatapu

T

TONGATAPU

O

N

`Ohonua `Eua

G

A

Hunga Ha`apai

Nuku`alola

`Ata

Map 1.2.  Islands of the Kingdom of Tonga

I S L A N D S

172°

20°



 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

(cf. Tupouniua 1977: 1; van der Grijp 1993: 13–14). The population and size of each island group is shown in Table 1.1 (cf. Tongan Government 1999: 1–6). Table 1.1.  Population and size of island groups Island group & main islands

Surface area

Population

Tongatapu group – Tongatapu – Nuku‘alofa – ‘Eua Vava‘u group Ha‘apai group Niuas

approx. 348 km² approx. 257 km²

approx. 72,000 approx. 66,600 approx. 31,400 approx.   5,000 approx. 16,000 approx. 8,000 approx. 2,000

approx. 87 km² approx. 121 km² approx. 109 km² approx. 72 km²

Tongatapu Island (cf. Map 1.3), where I conducted most of my fieldwork, is for administrative purposes further divided into four districts: Nuku‘alofa, Western (hihifo), Central and Eastern (hahake) district (cf. Tupouniua 1977: 1, 4). The focus of my studies was the village of Niutoua which is the easternmost village of the Hahake district. The village data will be presented in detail in Section 1.3.2. Geologically, there are two types of island. Most Tongan islands are low lying coral islands of limestone but there are a few high volcanic islands as well. The coral islands are coral reefs raised by the tectonic movement of two plates in opposite directions. Tonga is located on the eastern edge of the Indo-Australian plate which is slowly sliding over the Pacific plate and at the same time being lifted. This tectonic movement regularly results in minor earthquakes. Just east of Tonga, the downwards moving Pacific plate (under the Indo-Australian plate) has created a sea depression (about 8 km deep) which is called the Tonga Trench. In addition, volcanoes have emerged all along this faultline, called the Pacific’s ‘rim of fire’ due to frequent lava eruptions (cf. Crane 1991: 7–13; van der Grijp 1993: 14–15). The volcanic islands lie to the east of Tonga, including the Niuas in the north, Late in the Vava‘u group, Tofua and Kao in the Ha‘apai group and ‘Ata in the far south. Except for the Niuas, the volcanic islands are uninhabited or at least not permanently inhabited. Tofua and Niuafo‘ou have been the most active volcanoes in the past.3 The largest islands with the greatest population, such as Tongatapu, ‘Eua and ‘Uta Vava‘u, are low coral islands. Most of the coral islands are surrounded by a coral reef. The lagoon between the reef and the island is very important for

.  In 1946 a large eruption in Niuafo‘ou destroyed Angahā, the capital of Niuafo‘ou, and other parts of the island. As a result of this volcanic eruption, the Tongan government decided to evacuate the whole island and to relocate its population to Tongatapu and later ‘Eua. Niuafo‘ou which has consequently been uninhabited since 1947 was resettled in 1958 after copra cutters had already returned in 1950/51 (cf. Rogers 1986).

1

2

3

4

5

Map 1.3.  Tongatapu island

0

Lakepa

6

Puke

7

km

Hofoa

Veitongo

Fua`amotu

Hoi Talasiu

Ha`asini

Nakolo

Hamula

Lavengatanga

Fatumu

Haveluliku

Tatakamotongo

Lapaha MU`A

Malapo

Vaini Holongo

Folaha

Nukuleka

Talafo`ou

Manuka Navutoka Siesia Makaung

Longoteme

Ma`ufanga

Nukuhetulu

Haveluloto

olofo`o

Kolomotu`a NUKU` ALOFA

Ha`ateiho

Pea

Tofoa

Tokomololo Ha`alalo

Ha`akame ‘Utulau

Matahau

Houma

Vaotu`u

Ha`utu

Masilamea Te`ekiu Nukunuku Fotai

Kolovai Ha`avakatolo Fo`ui

Ha`akili `Ahau

Fahefa

Kala`au

Ha`atafu

Neiafu Kanokupolu

`Atata

Kolonga Afa

Niutoua

`Eueiki

Chapter 1.  Introduction 

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

­ ifferent kinds of fishing and collecting shellfish which, along with agricutlure, is d the primary means of subsistence. The low and raised coral islands are covered with volcanic ash and soils vary from sand (tou‘one) close to the sea to clay loam (kelefatu). In contrast to the sandy soil, the clay loam is generally fertile and is used for agriculture.4 The plantations contain coconut (niu), root crops such as sweet potato (kumala), tapioca (­manioke), yam (‘ufi) and taro (talo), as well as fruit and vegetables. These crops are mainly planted for personal consumption but some are cash crops. Crops are not only used for food but for the production of houses, wealth items (koloa), mats (for sitting and sleeping), traditional clothes, medicine, outrigger canoes and a lot of other items used in everyday life. However, modern materials and products are slowly but surely replacing traditional ones. The sub-tropical rainforest that covers only a small part of the total land surface is further reduced each year because of the population growth and the demand for more agricultural land (cf. Crane 1991: 19–22; Tupouniua 1977: 1–3; van der Grijp 1993: 15–17, 26). Tonga has a tropical climate with warm temperatures (average temperature of 25°C) and high humidity (average of 70%; annual rainfall about 1,800 mm), providing good conditions for agriculture and allowing several harvests per year. There are two seasons: November to April is hot, wet and windy, and May to ­October is cooler, drier and less windy. In the South Pacific, trade winds blow from the southeast and during the wet season cyclones occur in this area. Cyclones cause damage by the strong winds and huge waves and heavy rainfall accompanying them. As most of the Tongan islands have no rivers or freshwater lakes, rainwater is collected from corrugated iron roofs into cement water tanks for drinking. During the drier season the water in the tanks can run short (cf. Crane 1991: 14–18; van der Grijp 1993: 15–19). Numerous Tongans (especially on the outer island) still live from this subsistence economy, however additionally, most families receive remittances (which is the main source of cash income) from their relatives with waged labour in Tonga or from those who have migrated overseas. For better access to paid jobs, higher education and other infrastructural advantages, there is an internal migration movement from the outer islands to the main island of each island group and further on to Tongatapu, mainly to the capital Nuku‘alofa, or even overseas. The main means of transportation between the Tongan islands is ferry operating between Tongatapu, ‘Eua, the Ha‘apai group (Lifuka and off the coast of Ha‘afeva), Vava‘u and the Niuas. This transportation by sea is not only of essential

.  For a more detailed descriptions of Tonga’s soil and its fertility see Orbell (1983).



Chapter 1.  Introduction 

importance for passengers but also for the distribution of import products and the collection of products for export. Besides the ferry, there is a Tongan airline which conducts domestic flights (to ‘Eua, Lifuka, Vava‘u and Niuatoputapu) and there is an international airport on Tongatapu.5 Private cars, taxis and busses only drive on the bigger islands (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 17–19). b.  Social and political organisation Traditional Tongan society before European contact (referred to as the pre-contact period) has often been described as one of the most stratified chiefdoms in ­Polynesia (cf. Sahlins 1958; Goldman 1970; Kirch 1984: 36–37, 219). The political and spiritual head of the Tongan society was the Tu‘i Tonga, a paramount chief or king. In the following generations, two further Tu‘i titles (Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua and Tu‘i Kanokupolu) were created and assigned the task of secular government, althought spiritual power remained with the Tu‘i Tonga. In the societal hierarchy, the Tu‘i Tonga was followed by the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua, the Tu‘i Kanokupolu and a group of other chiefly title holders who all trace their ancestry back to the king. Their titles are differently ranked according to the genealogical proximity of the first holder of each title to the descent line of the Tu‘i Tonga. The Tu‘i Tonga was regarded as the closest descendant of the gods, and therefore was granted the most mana (spiritual power). Thus mana is a concept which is tied to the powers of the gods. Mana is in everyone and everything but to a different extent; the closer someone is related to the gods, the more mana he or she has. It is regarded as dangerous to come into contact with more mana and as mana can be transferred by touch, there are many tapu (lit. ‘taboo’ with the meaning of ‘sacred, forbidden’) around people and items of higher rank and status. Therefore, the concepts of mana and tapu are closely related to social structure – not only the societal rank of Tu‘i, chiefs and commoners, but also the different status of the members of extended family (kāinga) towards each other. The kin of highest status is the father’s sister (mehekitanga).6 Towards her and other relatives of high ­status many tapu apply, such as touching their head is forbidden, and the m ­ ehekitanga has the mana to curse or to cure.

.  The ‘Royal Tongan Airline’ went bankrupt after it began to offer international flights and stopped flying in May 2004. After a short period, two new airlines (‘Fly Niu’ and ‘Peau Vava‘u’) emerged but because of a one-airline-policy today only ‘Peau Vava‘u’ has the right to operate within Tonga. .  The concepts of mana and tapu are known throughout Polynesia, however, their meanings vary slightly (cf. Shore 1989). Gifford (1929) has described Tongan aspects of mana and tapu within the chapter of ‘Tongan religion’ but they also occur in connection with societal hierarchical and social structure within the extended family.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

In pre-contact times, Tonga was in regular contact with other island groups, especially Samoa and Fiji. However, this contact was not always peaceful (cf. ­Campbell 2001:  28–36). European contact beginning in the 17th century (first explorers and then missionaries) has had a relatively small influence on Tonga. The greater changes did not take place in chiefly society until the end of the 18th ­century. The reason for these changes upon which the modern day societal ­structure is based was strong chiefly competition within Tonga that resulted in an ­intensification of warfare (cf. Gailey 1987: 145–169). Since 1875 Tonga has been a parliamentary monarchy with a Western style constitution. The king who is the head of the actual Tongan society, King Tāufa‘āhau Tupou IV, is the successor of the successful paramount chief (Tu‘i Kanokupolu) at the end of the warfare period.7 Besides the king, there is a group of entitled and traditional chiefs who are lower ranked than the king but still higher in rank than the rest of society, the commoners (cf. §2.2.1). Societal rank is determined by birth, and consequently, it is nearly impossible for a commoner to hold a chiefly title. Likewise the king and chiefs generally remain in their societal positions for their entire life (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 23). The favoured pattern of title succession is patrilineal and because of primogeniture the oldest son outranks his younger brothers. Since 1984 the parliament has consisted of 28 members of which ten are appointed by the king (two as governors of Ha‘apai and Vava‘u and eight as ministers), nine are elected by the 33 entitled chiefs and another nine by the remaining population. Until 1961 no commoner was elected for a ministerial post, and even today the majority and the most important posts are still held by members of the aristocracy and the royal family (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 22). In order to pass political decisions to the people, today there are district officers (ofisa fakavahe) who are responsible for several villages, and each village also has a town officer (ofisa kolo). About once a month they hold village meetings (fono) to inform the village people about governmental recommendations and decisions (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 21).8

.  His Majesty King Tāufa‘āhau Tupou IV passed away on September 11th 2006, aged 88. He ruled Tonga for 41 years. After his death, his eldest son, Crown Prince Tupouto‘a, was sworn in as his successor King Siaosi Tupou V (cf. New Zealand Herald, 13.9.2006). .  In contrast to the Tongan fono in a Samoan fono the chiefs (matai) have serious discussions and make political decisions (cf. Duranti 1981; van der Grijp 1993: 21; Duranti 1994: 2).



Chapter 1.  Introduction 

1.3.2  The village of Niutoua9 Niutoua is the easternmost village of the eastern district (hahake) of Tongatapu. The village is located at the sea, but in contrast to most other villages around the northern coast of Tongatapu, the reef gets very close to the coastline, and thus, the lagoon is rather small at this point. The village stretches around a main crossroad and its two roads, the Hala Tāufa‘ahau that links the village with Nuku‘alofa and most other villages in the Eastern district, and the Hala Liku leading around the south coast and ending at the beach of Niutoua. Along with these asphalt roads, there are several smaller muddy roads or paths fixed with coral stone. The village settlement is bounded in the north by the lagoon and in the south and west by farming land and in the east a small trail leads through the bush to the sea. The Ha‘amonga Maui Trilithon, an ancient gate constructed of large coralline stones, is located in the west of the village. In ancient times this was the dwelling place of the Tu‘i Tonga, before the location of his residence was moved to Lapaha/ Mu‘a and finally to Nuku‘alofa, the location of the royal residence and the presentday capital (cf. Bataille-Benguigui 1994: 38; Campbell 2001: 30–31). The population of Niutoua is proud to have such a famous monument within their ­village ­boundaries, and particularly the older people know all the myths about this place. According to the last government census of 1996, Niutoua had 767 inhabitants (369 males and 398 females) living together in 111 households (cf. Tongan government 1999: 1). Since then the numbers may have changed, but it is hard to tell as they are in a constant state of flux. In December 2004, I counted approximately 712 people living on a permanent basis, not including those who actually live overseas and those who just visit someone in Niutoua for special occasions. During all my field research in Niutoua, all the inhabitants were Tongan, except for one part-Tongan, Mike Jones (a Peace corps volunteer) and myself. While I stayed with the Tongan family of ‘Inoke and Melaia Folau, Mike had his own little house on an allotment with another house. He had already been living in Niutoua since 2000, but he left before my second research period in 2004. In December 2004, the 712 villagers were living in 125 houses (cf. Map 1.4). This means that on average five to six people live in one house. Some of the houses were built on allotments (‘api) where another house (of a relative) was ­standing already, at least eleven houses were uninhabited and other allotments were ­completely empty, i.e. they belonged to someone presently not using it.

.  For other village studies on Tongatapu see Aoyagi’s description (cf. 1966) of the village of Nukuleka and Tupouniua’s description (cf. 1977) of Hoi. Both villages are located in the eastern part of Tongatapu like Niutoua. Douaire-Marsaudon (cf. 1998:  38ff) describes the village structure and life of Taoa, a village situated on ‘Uta Vava‘u in the Vava‘u group.

1

Map 1.4.  The village of Niutoua (town allotments)

1 2 3 4 5 6

legend

allotment without house house empty house shop closet shop community watertank Mormon church Free Church of Tonga Free Wesleyan Church Catholic church 7th Day Adventist church Church of Tonga Hou‘eiki

PRIM SCHOARY OL

AU

AH

FA’

TAU AD

RO

2

BUSH

VILLA HALLGE

VILLAGE GROUND

3

4

5

CEMETERY

LIKU ROA

D

HA’AMONGA

SEA SEA

CEMETERY

6

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language



Chapter 1.  Introduction 

There are different types of houses: most are European style rectangular houses with wooden walls and corrugated iron roofs, some even have walls of laid brick, and a very few traditional oval shaped houses with walls and a roof constructed of woven coconut palm leaves (pola). Traditionally, besides the sleeping house (fale mohe), there was a separate kitchen shelter (peito) and a bath/toilet house (fale kaukau/fale mālōlō) on a town allotment. This housing structure was useful to keep the vermin out of the sleeping house. However, today most of the European style houses have the kitchen and even sometimes the bath/toilet attached to the house (which also may consist of several sleeping rooms). Most of the houses with corrugated iron roofs have a water tank (sima) in which the rain water is tapped from the roof. As this is the only potable water, households without a water tank have to get drinking water from a relative’s tank. Before single houses got their own water tanks (mostly from overseas funds), the village had three big community tanks. Today, these tanks are not used anymore and at least one is broken. Within the village all houses have tap water used for washing, watering the garden, etc. Since the eighties most houses have electricity (there are very few exceptions) and by November 2003 most houses had cable telephone (before only about 10 houses in the village had telephone via antenna). Besides the village allotments with houses, there are several other buildings and areas within the village setting that are important for the social, political and economic activities of the community. These are the churches (fale lotu), the cemetery (faitoka), the village (play)ground (mala‘e vainga) with the village hall/community house (fale kautaha), the primary school (fale ako) and the shops (fale koloa). The six church buildings belong to the three Methodist churches (the Free Wesleyan Church, Free Church of Tonga and the Church of Tonga), the Roman Catholics, the Mormons and the Seventh Day Adventists. The three Methodist churches have a church hall and the minister’s house next to the church building, the Mormons have the same church complex as elsewhere in Tonga (but the two ministers live on their own allotments within the village), while the smaller religious groups (for example the Catholics and the Seventh Day Adventists) each have a priest/minister who is living in another village (Kolonga or Vaini) and who looks after several villages in the eastern district.10 In November 2004, I collected information regarding church membership. The biggest groups are the Wesleyans

.  The ministers of the Methodist churches generally live in a village for three years and then (after a church conference) are transferred to a new village and a new minister is sent from somewhere else – moving into the same house where the former minister lived.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

with 325 members and the Mormons11, followed by the Church of Tonga with 102 members (19 families), the Free Church of Tonga with 82 members, the Catholics with 61 members and finally the Seventh Day Adventists with 19 members (four families). Like most villages, Niutoua has a government primary school (G.P.S.) which is situated opposite the Ha‘amonga. In November 2004, there were six teachers (including the principle) and 149 pupils (65 boys and 84 girls) from form one to six. Except for one of the teachers who was from Hoi, the others all lived in Niutoua. About six more teachers from Niutoua taught at other schools and 66 more pupils went to other schools on Tongatapu; most of them were pupils of the government schools Tonga Side School (kindergarten, primary school and middle school in Nuku‘alofa with lessons in English), Tonga High School (­secondary school in Nuku‘alofa with lessons in English) and Tonga College (secondary school in ‘Atele), and some attended secondary schools run by the different churches, such as Tupou College/Toloa (Wesleyan, only for boys), Queen Sālote College (Wesleyan, only for girls) and Liahona (Mormon). The closest secondary school for Niutouans is in Kolonga. There are 13 shop buildings, or rather kiosks, in Niutoua. They sell washing powder, toilet paper, soap, and other hygiene products, tins of corned beef, canned fish, sugar, salt, milk, butter, flour, oil, noodles, bread and other (mostly non-perishable) food products, pencils, candles, cigarettes, matches, aluminium foil, etc. Most of the shops are run by private owners and they are generally situated on the owner’s allotment, but one of the shops in Niutoua is from the Tonga Communication Federation. In November 2004, six of the shops within the village were open while seven had been closed. One of the closed shops was open in 2003 and reopened in December 2004, and two had closed in 2004 because their owners migrated to New Zealand. The village ground is used for sports events and the ‘Happy Day’, a community event to honour sportsmen and to celebrate peaceful and harmonious village life.12 In 2004, there was a village project to fix the fence around the village ground and the community hall that is used for several community activities, such as painting tapa and drinking kava. However, the monthly village meeting (fono) is held in

.  It was difficult to get any concrete numbers, but finally the ministers mentioned more than 450 members. Although the number of Mormons is constantly growing in Tonga (cf. Tongan Government 1999: xxiii), I doubt that the Mormons in Niutoua really have more members than the Wesleyans. .  The ‘Happy Day’ was a creation of some Niutouan villagers and it was celebrated the first time in January 2000. Since then it has become an annual event.



Chapter 1.  Introduction 

the hall of the Free Wesleyan church which is situated close to the big crossroads, within easy reach for everyone. Apart from that, the halls of the three Methodist churches are used for church events (such as feasts) and similar occasions to the community hall on the village ground. The only person of higher societal rank in Niutoua is the chief (one of the traditional hou‘eiki), although he is not a noble (nōpele) (cf. §2.2.1). The present chief of Niutoua is Mohenoa Lolomana‘ia who is known by his chief name Tāmale. He is the eighth Tāmale and inherited this title in 1999 from his grandfather when he died. Normally, the title is passed from the father to the oldest son, but his father had already died in 1997. There is no special task the chief has to fulfil, but he is expected to be present at important events (feasts, funerals etc.) and to look after and support the village (cf. §4.3). Tāmale as chief has two chief attendants (matāpule) in the village, Fainga‘a and Tofavaha. These are the matāpule names of Malū Lolomana‘ia (Fainga‘a) and Fotu Fisi‘i Ahi (Tofavaha) who are the present matāpule. They were named by Tāmale, and when one of the matāpule dies, Tāmale will decide if the title is passed to the matāpule’s oldest son or if he chooses another person. These mātapule are the ­official speakers of the chief in public, especially at ceremonial events, and at important village events they sit next to Tāmale. The interesting situation in Niutoua is that the matāpule Fainga‘a is not only Tāmale’s matāpule but also Nuku’s matāpule, the nōpele of the nearby village Kolonga with estate in Kolonga and ‘Eua. In this ­context, his matāpule name is Makafeo and as such he is also a royal mātapule participating in the royal kava circle in which Tāmale is not present (cf. §3.5.1). Tāmale and Fainga‘a live in Niutoua, while Tofavaha lives in Nuku‘alofa and visits the village on all kind of occasions. Their chief or matāpule names are used if they are addressed or talked about at official events and in public (for example in church, at a fono, wedding or funeral), but in private contexts, Loseli (Fainga‘a’s daughter’s husband) and other family members call Fainga‘a by his civil name Malū. Apart from them, there is one town officer (ofisa kolo) in the village, Tangitau Liku. He was elected by the village population and as the people approve of his work they have re-elected him a few times, so that by November 2004 he had held the position of town officer for almost twelve years.13 The town officer is in charge of everything concerning the village and has to pass information from Nuku‘alofa on to the village people. He therefore holds at least one fono meeting where every

.  Since 1965 the town and district officers are elected by the population, however, previously they were appointed by the prime minister (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 21). Every three years, the villagers elect a new town officer.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

adult of Niutoua should participate. Apart from the town officer, the district officer of the Hahake district is also expected to be present at the fono. Further people in the village who are treated with great respect are the ministers/priests (faifekau) of the different churches, their stewards (setuata) if there are any, and the elderly people, for example Malakai. He is not related to Tāmale but was given the name and title of ‘Tāmale’s brother’ Loloa. As such, he can represent Tāmale (at a kava circle or in a fono) if he is absent. Niuila would be a further ­representative of Tāmale. In Niutoua, many households have at least one family member with a government job. In December 2004 about 48 villagers had jobs at government schools, with the police, hospital or infirmaries14, ministries, the national bank, the military and the ferry service. These jobs provide a stable income like other salaried jobs at church organisations, banks and other companies. For most of these jobs people have to travel to Nuku‘alofa, either by bus or in private cars.15 Apart from salaried jobs, most people in Niutoua live off agricultural products of their plantations supplemented by fish and seafood from irregular fishing activities. Fish especially is mostly caught for private consumption, while part of the agricultural and handicraft products are sold at the market of Nuku‘alofa.

1.4  The Tongan language Tongan is (alongside English) the official language of Tonga. It belongs to the O ­ ceanic languages, a subgroup of the Malayo-Polynesian branch of the Austronesian language family.16 All Oceanic languages have numerous linguistic features in common .  The only hospital on Tongatapu is in Vaiola, next to Nuku‘alofa, and the closest infirmary for the people of Niutoua is in Kolonga. .  There is a bus connection between Nuku‘alofa and Niutoua. The bus ride (one way) which takes about an hour costs 1.40 T$ for adults. As is the case for all the buses in Tonga, there is no timetable and the people simply wait along the road. In 2002/03, two to three buses drove to Niutoua, and in December 2004, there were five. However, none of the buses were owned by someone from the village. In Niutoua, most households have a car, but for most people it is too expensive to drive the long distance to town daily because of rising petrol prices. In any case, whenever someone does actually drive, he/she usually gives a ride to others. .  The position of the Oceanic subgroup within the Austronesian family tree (showing that the Austronesian subgroups west of the Oceanic languages split off first) and the fact that the closest relatives of Oceanic are its western neighbours indicate that the speakers of Proto Oceanic migrated from Southeast Asia to the Pacific region (cf. Lynch 1998: 51–53).



Chapter 1.  Introduction 

but the closest relatives of Tongan are other languages of the ­Polynesian subgroup (cf. Figure 1.1). On an intermediate level, the Polynesian languages, together with Rotuman and Fijian, form the Central Pacific subgroup (cf. Lynch 1998: 45–53). In Tonga there is very little dialect diversity. Besides Tongan, there is the language of Niuafo‘ou which politically belongs to Tonga. While Tongan (together with Niuean) is a member of the Tongic branch, historically Niuafo‘ou belongs to the Samoic-Outlier languages (cf. Figure 1.1). Today, there are only a few differences between Tongan and Niuafo‘ou (cf. Tsukamoto 1988; Broschart 1994: 38). Tongan is still the dominant language, although English as the second official language is taught in all schools after Tongan.

Proto Polynesian

Proto Tongic

Proto Nuclear Polynesian

Proto Samoic-Outlier

Proto Eastern Polynesian

Proto Central-Eastern Polynesian

Tongan, Niuean

Samoan, Tokelauan, Tuvaluan, East Uvea, East Futuna, Niuafo‘ou, Pukapuka, Nukuoro, Kapingamarangi, Takuu, Nukuria, Nukumanu, Luangiua, Sikaiana, Rennellese, Pileni, Tikopia-Anuta, Emae, Ifira-Mele, West Futuna, Fagauvea

Figure 1.1.  The Polynesian subgroup

Hawaiian, Marquesan, Tahitian, Tuamotuan, Mangareva, Rapa, Penrhyn, Rarotongan, Māori, Moriori

Rapanui

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

So far, the linguistic standard works of Tongan are Churchward’s grammar (1953) and dictionary (1959). Since then, however, numerous approaches regarding various linguistic issues and further dictionaries (Tu‘inukuafe 1992b; ­Schneider 1996; Thompson 1996) have been published. Tongan has an inventory of five vowels (a, e, i, o, u) and makes a phonemic distinction between short and long vowels (lengthened vowels: orthgraphically ā, ē, ī, ō, ū). The consonant inventory consists of twelve phonemes: p, t, k, v, f, s, h, m, n, l, a glottal stop (orthographically ’) and a velar nasal (orthographically ng). The syllable structure is (C)V, as Tongan allows only open syllables and does not permit consonant clusters. Stress is normally on the penultimate vowel and is only marked orthographically (’) if it is shifted to the last (short) vowel, such as the definite accent (cf. Churchward 1953: 1–14).17 Tongan has a stem isolating character. Complex lexemes are formed by derivational processes. Like most Oceanic languages, Tongan has a large amount of reduplication with various functions (such as intensification, moderation, repetition, etc.) and affixes (cf. Churchward 1953: 238–267). Allomorphy is quite common – some articles, personal pronouns, TA-particles and spatial prepositions consist of a set of different morphological variants with the same meaning but complementary distribution. The pronouns are marked for number, person, but not gender. Concerning number, Tongan distinguishes not only singular and plural but also dual forms, and concerning person, the first person dual and plural make a distinction between inclusive (referring to speaker and addressee(s)) and exclusive (referring to speaker and some other person(s) but not the addressee(s)) forms (cf. ­Churchward 1953: 126–145). Tongan is a split ergative language whereby nominal NPs show an ergative pattern marked by the particles ‘a (absolutive) and ‘e (ergative), while preverbal pronominal NPs are nominative (cf. Broschart 1994:  34; Dixon 1994:  41–42).18 Tongan is a verb-initial language with the basic sentence structure VSO. However, the order of arguments is relatively free. The first element of a verb phrase is the TA-particle which contains temporal and aspectual information.

.  For more detailed information about the definite accent see Schütz (2001). .  This means that the ergative particle marks the nominal subject of an intransitive verb as well as the nominal object of a transitive verb while the absolutive particle introduces the nominal subject of a transitive verb (cf. Dixon 1994: 1, 42). In pronominal NPs, the same set of (preverbal) pronouns is used to describe subjects of intransitive as well as transitive sentences while the object of transitive sentences is described by another set of (postverbal) pronouns (cf. Churchward 1953: 126).



Chapter 1.  Introduction 

Lexically, Tongan makes no distinction between parts of speech, such as nouns and verbs (cf. Tchekhoff 1981: 1; Broschart 1994: 8, 34). However, syntactically, nominal constructions (Art x) and verbal constructions (TA x) can be distinguished (cf. Broschart 1997).19 This can be demonstrated by ‘uha (lexical meaning: ‘rain, to rain, rainy’) in the following examples. In Example  1, ‘uha occurs in a verbal position in contrast to a nominal position in Example 2. (1) Na‘e ‘uha. ta:past v:to rain It rained. (2) ‘Oku momoko ‘a e ‘uha. ta:pres v:(to be) cold abs art n:rain The rain is cold.

In contrast to verbal sentences, nominal sentences do not contain verbs (TA x constructions) such as Example 3. They consist of a nominal predicate (presentative particle ko + NP) that precedes the subject (cf. Broschart 1994: 35–37; Lynch 1998: 148–150). (3) Ko e faiako au. pr art teacher subj:1sg I am a teacher.

The main linguistic foci of this research are the honorific system, spatial descriptions and possessive constructions. These three linguistically rather complex phenomena show features which are characteristic of Polynesian languages (cf. Krupa 1982: 111, 113–116, 154–165; Besnier 1992: 248–249) but differ strongly from the Indo-European language pattern. Tongan has an honorific system, called language of respect, that distinguishes between three sociolinguistic language levels: one for the king, one for the chiefs and one for the commoners. These language levels are not based on grammatical but only on lexical distinctions. In Tongan, spatial descriptions are based on the use of spatial prepositions, directionals and spatial nouns. For linguistic (and cognitive) encoding, Tongan

.  Thus, Broschart (1997) defines Tongan as a ‘type/token language’, i.e. a language which makes the major distinction rather between non-referential lexical ‘types’ which are neither tense- nor article- marked [–ref] and referential phrasal ‘tokens’ which are either tense- or article-marked [+ref]. These languages are in contrast to ‘noun/verb languages’ which make distinctions between items that are tense-marked but not marked by case, gender, number or article [+pred] and those that are not marked for tense but which combine with case, gender, number and article [–pred].

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

makes use of different frames of reference: the relative left-right orientation, the absolute cardinal directions and a further absolute system, the upwards­downwards axis. The Tongan possessive constructions make a distinction between alienable and inalienable possession. The alienable series is marked by the vowel a while the inalienable series is marked by o. Thus, the distinction is also called A- and O-­possession. It is based on the nature of the semantic relationship [± control] between the possessor and the possessee or (the initiation of) the possessive relationship.

part i

Anthropological issues The objective of this part is subdivided into three chapters: a general survey of Tongan social structure (Chapter 2), aspects of space and place (Chapter 3) and possession (Chapter 4). Concerning the aspect of space, the focus will be on land tenure and the symbolic meaning of space. Finally, in the chapter on possessive structures, I will mainly concentrate on traditional wealth items, their production and use, and their social function in the system of gift exchange. The description of these aspects contains information about Tongan society in general which is supplemented and illustrated by detailed examples of a specific Tongan village, Niutoua. It will become clear that social structure, land tenure and gift exchange are closely interrelated in Tonga and have been throughout Tongan history. However, there are further correlations between space, possession and social structure that will be considered in Chapter 5. Furthermore, the anthropological issues provide background information for specific linguistic structures which will be presented in the second part of this book.

chapter 2

Social structure Tonga belongs to the chiefly societies in Western Polynesia. Chiefly societies are wellknown for their extensive social stratification which is obviously well-expressed by the Tongan statement: ‘In Tonga nobody is equal’.1 In Tonga, two kinds of hierarchical structures exist, one which governs the rank of a person in terms of the societal class they belong to, and another which socially positions them in relation to the members of their family. Kaeppler (cf. 1971:  174) calls this distinction ‘social status’ versus ‘societal ranking’ according to the level on which people are connected, that is in the first case within the kin group or domestic sphere and in the second within the society as a whole. A plethora of further terminology is used to distinguish these two hierarchical structures; Evans (2001: 33) calls it “social and political rank” and Bott (1981: 15, 20) “authority and rank in domestic kinship” versus “authority and rank in the society as a whole”. A further alternative is ‘relative’ versus ‘absolute’ hierarchy as on the one hand the status of a person within the kin group depends upon the point of view taken, dependent on who the ego of a certain event is and how someone is related to this ego, while on the other hand a person’s rank on the societal level is absolute, that is it is ascribed by birth. These hierarchical systems become of distinct importance in different contexts, and they are visualised or expressed in various ways.

2.1  Kin and the personal social status within the kin group This section deals with ‘social status’, that is the relative status of ego within the kin group or domestic sphere, and the corresponding behaviour which is linked to status differences. For the purpose of clarity, I will first describe the kinship system and the different social groups based on kinship relations.

.  Several Tongans who explained aspects of social stratification to me concluded with this statement. The same issue is also expressed by Bott’s formulation (1981: 8) about the Tongan social system that “no two people had the same rank”.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Subsequently, the kinship terminology will be analysed in terms of the underlying social organisation of kindred: to what extent is the kinship terminology based on the social facts that determine status within kindred? It becomes apparent that the kinship terms classify kin in a way which conforms to the social status. 2.1.1  Social units There are different groups based on kinship that are important in Tongan life: the kāinga, the household, etc. These modern day social groups differ from those in traditional Tongan society, and thus, the same term may refer to different units. For a complete description, both the modern day as well as the former social groups will be described, including a subsequent definition on the usage of the terms for the following sections. The kāinga encompasses all bilateral kin to whom ego traces a consanguineal relationship including even distant relatives as long as a relation can be traced. Consequently, it is an ego-orientated kindred system indifferent to sex in tracing kinship links. There are no distinct generic terms for matrilateral versus patrilateral kin, althought they can be descriptively differentiated with kāinga ‘i fa‘ē (lit. ‘kāinga of the mother’) and kāinga ‘i tamai (lit. ‘kāinga of the father’) (cf. Kaeppler 1971: 175; van der Grijp 1993: 135). Rogers (cf. 1975: 247) points out that the term kāinga can even be used in an extended way to include non-relatives who treat and recognise each other as kin. Formerly, the kāinga was a group of extended families which was led by an entitled chief. Bott (cf. 1981: 20) therefore calls it ‘kāinga of the title’ or ‘political kāinga’. This political kāinga consisted of different extended families (fa‘ahinga) that lived all together on the land of the same title holder. Today, this social unit or local group often corresponds to a village. Each fa‘ahinga was headed by an ‘ulumotu‘a (lit. ‘old head’), a title that was passed on from older brother to younger brother/cousin. At different occasions, several political kāinga formed another larger social group, the ha‘a (cf. §2.2.2). The first title holders of these kāinga were descended from the first title holder of the superior chiefly or Tu‘i title who lead the ha‘a (cf. Bott 1981: 20–32; van der Grijp 1993: 131–133, 141). Today, Tongans also use the term fāmili which derives from the English word ‘family’ to refer to the kāinga, the consanguineal kindred. However, confusion arises with the term fāmili as Tongans also use it to refer to the nuclear family and the household. It has further replaced the older notion fa‘ahinga as well (cf. Aoyagi 1966: 150; Kaeppler 1971: 175; van der Grijp 1993: 134). Decktor Korn (cf. 1974:  9–11) describes fāmili as the kin group (including affines) that acts together within a village as a local group, in contrast to the kāinga which does not include affinal kin but all consanguineal kin, even those who live in other villages or on other islands or overseas, and who only come together at special occasions such as weddings and funerals. While one is automatically a member of a kāinga,



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

the membership of a fāmili is optional and determined by interaction and participation in daily activities of this social unit, such as working together (men: agriculture, fishing; women: making mats and tapa, laundry, etc.), making regular visits, and exchanging news and small gifts of food, etc. The sheer number of these obligations mean that a person can only belong to one fāmili, just as the members of one household all belong to the same fāmili. If this action group becomes too large, it will subdivide itself. Van der Grijp (1993: 131, 136–137) uses the term ‘maison’ according the concept introduced by Lévi-Strauss for exactly the social group termed by Decktor Korn fāmili. However, as will be clarified below, I prefer to use the Tongan term fāmili (according to Dektor Korn) even though it occurs with many different meanings in Tonga. The ‘ulumotu‘a is the head of the fāmili, a title that passes on from father to eldest son. His task is to maintain the kāinga and to organise and take care of the fāmili, making it necessary to live in close proximity to the village of his fāmili. An ‘ulumotu‘a must be an adult man (around 30 or older) and preferably also the head of his household. Women and their descendants as well as adopted kin are excluded from becoming ‘ulumotu‘a (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 140–142). The people of Niutoua trace their origin back to one family that originally lived in this easternmost part of Tongatapu. They had one daughter (Latu) and two sons (Samiu Lolomana‘ia and ‘Akapusi Tau‘alupe) from whom the current families are derived, for example Liku was the son of ‘Akapusi Tau‘alupe. The ‘ulumotu‘a of the original family in Niutoua was Tāmale, the chief (cf. §2.2.1). The household (‘api) is the group of common residence and consumption, that is its members share the same land (‘api) and have access to resources that satisfy their basic needs. Most households consist of a core or nuclear family; a couple and their unmarried children. Further members are generally adopted children2, parents (who are supported especially if they are older) or unmarried or widowed siblings of the husband or the wife. Thus, two complete core families of the same generation normally do not share the same household (cf. question 10 of the inquiry). There is, however, fluctuation in the household composition whenever the situation requires it. Thus, long-term visitors (e.g. more distant relatives or guests) can temporarily be part of the household just as regular members

.  Adoption in Tonga and even the whole area of Polynesia is extremely different from ­adoption in Western societies and occurs with high frequency. It is a relatively informal process in which children are adopted by consanguineal relatives of the biological parents, mostly by the father’s sister (cf. §2.1.3). The adopted children live with the adoptive parents and generally both parents show responsibility (cf. Howard & Kirkpatrick 1989: 74–75). There are a lot of specific reasons for adoption but generally it is a way of redistributing people ­according to available resources (cf. Decktor Korn 1975: 235).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

can reside elsewhere for varying periods. On average, there are about six or seven people living together in a household (cf. Aoyagi 1966:  144–149; Decktor Korn 1974: 9; 1975: 235–243; Morton 1996: 28).3 While in 1996 an average household in Niutoua still consisted of nearly seven people, in 2004 it only had about five to six members (cf. §1.3.2). In former times, each household belonged to an extended family (fa‘ahinga), and similarly, today, it is part of larger social units such as the kāinga (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 131, 133). Compared to the traditional society which was mainly based on larger social units such as the fa‘ahinga, in modernday society smaller units have become much more important. This shift towards the core family has been influenced strongly by Christianity. The reorganisation of the societal system by King George Tāufa‘āhau Tupou I was probably influential as well (cf. §2.2.1) as in the modern societal and land tenure system the fa‘ahinga has lost its ­landholding role (cf. Evans 2001: 50–52; cf. §3.1). To avoid terminological confusion in the following, I will use the term kāinga to refer to the bilateral consanguineal kin group, the extended family, while the ambiguous term fāmili will only be used in the way Decktor Korn defined it, as kindred acting together within a village. The nuclear family will be described as such and distinguished from the household (‘api) because although a household generally consists of a nuclear family there may be deviations as described above. 2.1.2  Kinship terminology According to Murdock’s categories, Tongan kinship terminology is to be classified as a ‘Hawaiian type’ (cf. Murdock 1949 in Jonsson 2001: 1207; Biersack 1982: 184). This implies that on the horizontal level, that is kin of the same generation as ego, the same term(s) are used for siblings as for cousins. This becomes apparent in Table 2.1 (cf. Kaeppler 1971: 175–176; Biersack 1982: 184–185; van der Grijp 1993: 167). Another categorisation which focuses on the kinship classification within the first ascending generation instead of ego’s generation (as in the case of Murdock’s categories) is proposed by Lowie (cf. 1928 in Jonsson 2001: 1207).4 According to

.  According to Gifford (1929: 15), in former times, the household may have contained more members due to polygamy. .  All universalistic approaches (such as Murdock’s and Lowie’s) have tried to classify the world’s kinship systems according to a finite number of types. However, as Murdock’s and Lowie’s types of kinship terminology demonstrate, they are restricted to only a small group of kin (e.g. ego’s generation, or the first ascending generation). Thus, the Tongan kinship terminology still may differ in other aspects from languages that can also be classified as ‘Hawaiian type’ or ‘­bifurcate merging terminology’. Each kinship system is likely to develop its own particular way of ­expressing a complex social network. For Tongan, this becomes clear in Section 2.1.4.



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

Lowie’s categories, Tongan kinship terminology is a ‘bifurcate merging’ one, meaning the same term is used for father and father’s brother while there is another term for mother’s brother. Table 2.1 shows that the term tamai applies to father as well as father’s brother and tu‘asina describes the mother’s brother. Equally, mother and mother’s sister are both expressed by one term (fa‘ē) while the father’s sister has a separate term (mehekitanga). With the exception of mali (‘husband’ or ‘wife’), all these kinship terms describe consanguineal kin of ego. Thus, this is the social group of relatives who form the kāinga. From this point of view, it is not surprising that kāinga is also often translated as ‘relatives’ because the only kin who exist in the terminology are indeed the members of the kāinga. Mali is the only kinship term that describes affinal kin, but as it is derived from the English word ‘to marry’ it is not a traditional Tongan kinship term.5 However, husband and wife are part of the core family and the household (‘api), and thus, they are the most important affinal kin. Other affinal kin who may be part of the social unit called fāmili can also be described by the term mali. In this context, Gifford (cf. 1929: 27–29) mentions siblings-in-law but instead of mali, rather analytic kin circumlocutions such as mali ‘o e tokoua (lit. ‘tokoua’s husband/wife’) or tokoua ‘o e mali (lit. ‘husband/wife’s tokoua’) are used to be more precise. For step-relatives the same kinship term is used as for the corresponding consanguineal kin, so the stepmother is called fa‘ē just like the real mother (cf. Gifford 1929: 28; own observations: e.g. Interviewee 10). The kinship terms like tamai or tokoua contain one close relative who is a member of the nuclear family (i.e. a focal member like ‘father’ or ‘same sex sibling’) and also more remote relatives (i.e. non-focal members like ‘father’s brother’ or ‘same sex cousin’). In Tongan, the focal member is normally described by a kinship term like tamai or tokoua while for non-focal members, the suffix ‑‘aki is added to the appropriate kinship term, such as tamai‘aki for ‘father’s brother’. However, although this linguistic option exists, Tongans mostly drop the suffix, and thus do not make the distinction (own observations). Table 2.1 also indicates that ego’s generation and the first ascending as well as descending generation show much more terminological differentiation than the generations with a greater distance to ego. This is a typical pattern found in kinship terminologies; within the generations closer to ego, more semantic distinctions are made (cf. Foley 1997: 136).

.  Gifford (cf. 1929: 29) mentions other terms for spouses that were formerly used, such as ohoana (lit. ‘partner’), unoha (which also means ‘sexual intercourse’) or hoa (lit. ‘companion’). However, none of the terms was used purely to denote kinship relations.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Table 2.1.  Tongan kinship terminology Term

Description

Generation

kui

all male and female kin two or more generations above ego (i.e. FM, FF, MF, MM, etc.) father (F) and all patrilateral male kin one generation above ego (i.e. FB) mother (M) and all matrilateral female kin one generation above ego (i.e. MZ) (parents: fa‘ē and tamai) all matrilateral male kin one generation above ego (i.e. MB) – fa‘ē tangata (lit. ‘male mother’) is a synonym for tu‘asina all patrilateral female kin one generation above ego (i.e. FZ; especially the father’s oldest sister) kin of the same sex and the same generation (i.e. ☻B, ☺Z, etc.) tokoua older than ego (i.e. ☻eB, ☻MeZS, ☻FeBS, ☺eZ, ☺MeZD, ☺FeBD) tokoua younger than ego (i.e. ☻yB, ☻MyZS, ☻FyBS, ☺yZ, ☺MyZD, ☺FyBD) from male’s perspective: all female kin of the same generation (i.e. ☻Z, ☻FBD, ☻FZD, ☻MBD, ☻MZD) from female’s perspective: all male kin of the same generation (i.e. ☺B, ☺FBS, ☺FZS, ☺MBS, ☺MZS) from male’s perspective: daughters of himself and tokoua (i.e. ☻D, ☻BD) from male’s perspective: sons of himself and tokoua (i.e. ☻S, ☻BS) from female’s perspective: children of herself and tokoua (i.e. ☺S, ☺D, ☺ZS, ☺ZD) from male’s perspective: children of tuofefine (i.e. ☻ZD, ☻ZS, etc.) from female’s perspective: children of tuonga‘ane (i.e. ☺BS, ☺BD, etc.) all male and female kin two or more generations below ego (i.e. DD, DS, SD, SS, etc.)

G:–2 etc.

tamai fa‘ē (mātu‘a) tu‘asina mehekitanga tokoua ta‘okete tehina tuofefine tuonga‘ane ‘ofefine foha tama ‘ilamutu fakafotu mokopuna

G:–1

G:0

G:+1

G:+2 etc.

In ego’s generation, sex (both of referent and ego) and relative age are the distinctive features of the kin terms. In the first ascending generation, kin are classified according to sex (of the referent) and by distinguishing patrilateral versus matrilateral kin, that is according to sex of ego’s parents who are either the referent themselves or the connecting relative. Sex is also the distinctive feature of the kinship classification in the first descending generation. In this case, it is the sex of the referent, ego and the connecting relative (sibling or cousin) if there is one. The kin terms of the second ascending as well as the second descending generation, by contrast, do not lead to a distinction at all. These kin are in fact classified irrespective of their sex, although in the case of kui it is possible to make this



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

distinction by adding ‘male/man’ or ‘female/woman’: kui tangata (lit. ‘male kui’) and kui fefine (lit. ‘female kui’). The kin of generations even further away from ego are simply referred to in the same way as those of the second ascending and descending generation. Besides these cases, there are no kin terms which include kin of different generations. The distinctive social features (such as sex and relative age) that are important in Tongan kinship terminology fit within Kroeber’s general pattern. He distinguishes eight underlying semantic features with relevance for kinship categories in the languages of the world (Kroeber 1909 in Jonsson 2001: 1207; parantheses by the author, S.V.): –– –– –– –– –– –– –– ––

difference in generation between anchor (i.e. ego) and referent, age difference within a generation between the anchor and the referent, sex of referent, sex of speaker (i.e. sex of ego), sex of connecting relative, condition (i.e. dead or alive) of connecting relative, consanguineal versus affinal kinship, collateral versus lineal kinship.

Summarising, Tongan kinship terminology is mainly based on the categories of sex. ‘Sex of referent’ (i.e. male versus female) is distinguished in ego’s generation (tuonga‘ane versus tuofefine), the first ascending generation (tamai and tu‘asina versus fa‘ē and mehekitanga) and the first descending generation (foha versus ‘ofefine). However, certain kinship terms of ego’s generation and the first descending generation do not distinguish the referent’s sex, for example tokoua, ta‘okete and tehina (same sex siblings), tama (children of a woman), ‘ilamutu (children of tuofefine) and fakafotu (children of tuonga‘ane). The feature ‘sex of ego’ in combination with the referent’s sex (i.e. same or parallel sex versus cross or opposite sex) is a distinctive pattern within ego’s generation (tokoua versus tuonga‘ane or tuofefine). ‘Sex of ego’ (i.e. male’s versus female’s perspective) further distinguishes kinship terms in the first descending generation (‘ilamutu, ‘ofefine and foha versus fakafotu and tama). Finally, ‘sex of connecting relative’ is important in the first ascending generation (i.e. sex of connecting parent: patrilateral versus matrilateral) as well as the first descending one (i.e. sex of connecting sibling/cousin). Besides sex, the ‘relative age’ (i.e. older or younger) between ego and ego’s same sex siblings (tehina versus ta‘okete) is also a distinctive feature. However, age is only important in this one case. The kinship terms of all ascending and descending generations automatically contain a ‘difference in generation between

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

ego and the referent’ and only the terms kui and mokopuna are ­equivocal concerning generation. ‘Consanguineal versus affinal kinship’ is distinguished in Tongan kinship terminology in that all kinship terms besides mali describe consanguineal kin. Mali is the only affinal kin term. Also ‘collateral versus lineal kinship’ is barely a distinctive pattern (besides the possible affixation: -‘aki). Collateral (i.e. cousins) and lineal kin (i.e. siblings) of ego’s generation are denoted by the same kinship terms. In the first ascending generation, there is also no terminological distinction between father or mother as lineal kin and father’s brother or mother’s sister respectively as collateral kin; a distinct term is used only for the collateral kin father’s sister and mother’s brother. In the first descending generation, the same term is used for collateral (sibling/cousin’s children) and lineal kin (own children) if the connecting relative (sibling/cousin) has the same sex. Only ‘ilamutu and fakafotu describe exclusively collateral kin (i.e. children of cross sex sibling/cousin). The ‘condition of the connecting relative’ is Kroeber’s only semantic feature that does not have any impact on Tongan kinship terminology. As the Tongan kinship terminology, that is the classification of kin under the same term, differs strongly from the terminological English kinship classification, it is interesting to see how Tongans nevertheless use the English kinship terminology. Mostly, they use the English term according to the Tongan classification, meaning that they use the English term for all those relatives that are described by the corresponding, though conceptually different, Tongan term. Thus, they call their cousins as well as their siblings ‘brother’ or ‘sister’, their uncles (i.e. FB) as well as their father ‘father’, and their mother as well as their aunts (i.e. MZ) ‘mother’ (own observations). In Tonga, kinship terms are not used to address someone. In this case, the personal name, that is generally the first name, is used instead (cf. Gifford 1929: 27). 2.1.3  S ocial status and corresponding behaviour within the kin group (kāinga) Social status in Tonga is based on a dichotomy expressed by the terms tu‘a and ‘eiki. Tu‘a means ‘lower ranked, inferior in status’ than ego, while ‘eiki refers to those who are ‘higher ranked, superior in status’ than ego. On the societal level, the same terms are used: tu‘a describing ‘commoners’ and ‘eiki ‘chiefs’. However, within the kāinga everybody can be tu‘a as well as ‘eiki, that is everybody has kin to whom one is tu‘a and others to whom one is ‘eiki as this social status applies regardless of societal rank of a person (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 164). The tu‘a-‘eiki system within the kin group is based on several principles (cf. Kaeppler 1971: 176; van der Grijp 1993: 164–165):



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

1. Within ego’s generation female siblings have higher status than male siblings, i.e. sisters are ‘eiki to their brothers. 2. Further, elder siblings have a higher status than younger ones, but the sequence of the first two principles is very important; this second principle is taken into consideration after the first one. Thus, elder sisters are ‘eiki to younger sisters just as elder brothers are ‘eiki to younger brothers, but younger sisters are still ‘eiki to older brothers because of the first principle. 3. In the first ascending generation, patrilateral kin have a higher status than ego while matrilateral kin have a lower status than ego. In combination with the first two principles, the father’s oldest sister (mehekitanga) consequently has the highest status, followed by her younger sisters and then her brothers (in order of birth). The mother’s brother (tu‘asina) has the lowest status (after the mother’s sisters). Within the matrilateral kin the principle of age is hardly of importance. 4. Within ego’s generation, the status of ego’s cousins is identical with that of their relating parent, i.e. the children of ego’s FZ and FB are ‘eiki to ego while the children of ego’s MB and MZ are tu‘a to ego. 5. In the first descending generation, the status of the children of ego’s siblings depends on the status of their relating parent, i.e. the children of ego’s sisters are ‘eiki to ego if ego is male, and if ego is female, only her older sisters’ children are ‘eiki, while the children of ego’s brother are tu‘a to ego (in this case, it does not matter if ego’s brother is older or younger than ego). Consequently, the eldest daughter of ego’s sister has the highest status. 6. The status of the children of ego’s cousins in the first descending generation is as follows: only the children of FZD and FBD are ‘eiki to ego and all other cousins’ children are tu‘a, regardless of sex. 7. Ego’s relation with the grandparents’ and the grandchildren’s generations only bares marginal traces of status differences. Grandchildren may be slightly ‘eiki to ego. 8. In the relationship between children and their parents, the parents are higher ranked while they are still alive, i.e. ego’s parents are ‘eiki to ego and ego’s children are tu‘a to ego. However, less status difference is present in mother-child relations compared to the father-child relations. This is reflected in the fact that a deceased father is still ‘eiki to ego, while a deceased mother becomes tu‘a to ego. 9. Married partners have different status; the man is ‘eiki as he is the head of the household unless there is no older male relative living with them. However, if one of the married partners dies, the deceased is ‘eiki to the survivor, regardless of sex.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Figures 2.1 and 2.2 illustrate this social status within the kāinga. While Figure 2.1 proceeds from a male’s perspective (ego is male) Figure 2.2 illustrates the social status of a woman within her kāinga (ego is female). All kin who are in a tu‘a position towards ego, that is relatives with lower status, are shaded black whereas kin who are in an ‘eiki position towards ego, that is relatives with higher status, are non-shaded. Finally, those kin who are not clearly tu‘a nor ‘eiki are shaded grey. Different types of behaviour are connected with these tu‘a and ‘eiki relationships within the kāinga. Kaeppler (cf. 1971: 177; van der Grijp 1993: 167) summarises this general behaviour in the following way: –– respect and avoidance of contact between siblings and parallel cousins of opposite sex (i.e. between tuonga‘ane and tuofefine) – this relationship is often referred to as brother-sister tapu – as well as patrilateral cross cousins (i.e. FZ’s children); –– near equality between siblings and parallel cousins of the same sex (i.e. tokoua); –– restraint and obedience regarding the mehekitanga; –– encouragement, support and instruction required of tamai towards their children (foha and ‘ofefine); –– care, familiarity and satisfaction of needs required of fa‘ē towards their children (tama); –– demanding behaviour and freedom from restraint for male and female ego vis-à-vis the tu‘asina and matrilateral cross cousins (i.e. MB’s children) and for female ego with regard to the children of tuonga‘ane (i.e. fakafotu), while the inverse relationships require deference and humility; –– no restrictions between kui and mokopuna. This general behaviour within the kāinga applies in daily life as well as at special occasions such as funerals and weddings. For relationships between certain kāinga members, such as ego and ego’s mehekitanga, the general behaviour is expressed in a number of specific behavioural patterns and tapu which are in accordance with the general behaviour described by Kaeppler. Many articles have focused on the relationships with the greatest difference in social status (i.e. the kin relation between ego and ego’s mehekitanga, as well as the inverse relationship between ego and the children of ego’s tu‘asina) and described the appropriate behaviour in detail (cf. Helu 1975; Rogers 1977; ­Taumoefolau 1991; Douaire-Marsaudon 1996). Moreover, the relationships between ego and ego’s father or the head of the kāinga, between ego and tu‘asina, and between siblings of opposite sex also have been of special research interest.



Chapter 2.  Social structure  1 2 6

9

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12 12 1: kui 2: tamai 3: mehekitanga 4: fa‘ē 5: tu‘asina 6: tokoua 6a: ta‘okete

6b: tehina 7: tuofefine 8: mali 9: foha 10: ‘ofefine 11: ‘ilamutu 12: mokopuna

Figure 2.1.  Social status within the kāinga from a male perspective 1 2 13

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3 6

13

2 6

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4

6a ego

14 14 15 15 14 14 15 15 14 14 15 15

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14 14 15 15 14 14 15 15 14 14 15 15

12 12 1: kui 2: tamai 3: mehekitanga 4: fa‘ē 5: tu‘asina 6: tokoua 6a: ta‘okete

6b: tehina 8: mali 12: mokopuna 13: tuonga‘ane 14: fakafotu 15: tama

Figure 2.2.  Social status within the kāinga from a female perspective

a.  Relationship between siblings of opposite sex (tuonga‘ane and tuofefine) As summarised by Kaeppler, this relationship is marked by reciprocal respect (faka‘apa‘apa) and avoidance of contact (which is called the brother-sister tapu). There is a certain number of taboos which apply as soon as the first signs of puberty are visible, that is from approximately the age of ten until their death or even

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

beyond. Bodily contact must be avoided and it is prohibited to wear their clothes, to eat their leftovers or to eat in their presence. Moreover, a sister is not allowed to sit showing naked legs to her brother just as a brother also is not allowed to sit showing his naked chest to his sister.6 If they talk to each other, it is prohibited to discuss sexual or parasexual topics, to talk in a rude way or to swear. It is even forbidden to be alone in the same room, to play together or to sleep in the same house (fale). Therefore, the unmarried brothers sleep in another fale mostly in the backyard which is especially built for this purpose (cf. Gifford 1929: 21–22; Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 143–144). Today, as the modern-style fale has several rooms, brothers and sisters often sleep under the same roof but in separate rooms.7 This corresponds to Rogers’ remark (1977: 161) that the pattern of avoidance has become “less imperative” among non-titled Tongans. Today, they can be in the same room8, but it is still prohibited to dance with each other, to eat from the same plate and a man is not allowed to sit in a kava circle if his sister is serving the kava (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 167–169). As sisters have higher status within the kāinga than their brothers, brothers are expected to show more respect towards their sisters than the other way round. This becomes most obvious in the asymmetrical gift exchange, that is a brother gives his sister the first and biggest agricultural and fishing products and is also expected to provide help and goods (his fatongia) whenever she (or even more importantly her children to whom the brother is tu‘asina) asks for it (cf. ­Douaire-Marsaudon 1996:  144–145). I have also observed a similar behaviour ­pattern in daily life; when sisters ask for something or give instructions, their brothers are expected to respect and fulfil these wishes, although they do have the often-practiced option to pass the instructions down to a younger brother (with even lower social status). The described behavioural constraints do not only apply between siblings of opposite sex but also between cousins of opposite sex, that is all relatives who are called tuonga‘ane or tuofefine (cf. Note 7). However, the taboos are considered more strictly in relation to siblings (cf. Perminow 1993: 86–87). This may explain .  I was advised to cover my legs (at least down to the knees) while sitting together with my Tongan brothers [21.11.02]. .  My Tongan family lived in a modern-style fale in which I had a separate room while my Tongan brothers slept in other parts of the fale. I shared a bed only once with the mother’s brother’s daughter who came over from New Zealand for a funeral [24.10.02]. This was possible as she was in a tokoua-position to me, but she would not have been allowed to sleep in the same room with my brothers (that is her tuonga‘ane). .  This even includes transportation, such as bus or car. However, I noticed that my older Tongan brother (those of the age in which the brother-sister tapu applies) felt uncomfortable whenever I stayed in the same room with only one of them and I started questioning him.



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

why cross cousin marriage (but never marriage of siblings) which is obviously a violation of the avoidance of contact was formerly practiced between people of higher rank (cf. Gifford 1929: 22; cf. §2.3.1). b.  Relationship between parents and their children The tamai (father and the father’s brothers) have a higher status than ego, and are therefore to be respected. However, the most respected tamai is the father. He is also the head of the core family and he may even be the ‘ulumotu‘a (i.e. the head of the fāmili) if he is the eldest living male of his line. As the eldest son will follow his position, he also enjoys a special prestige (cf. Gifford 1929: 20–21; van der Grijp 1993: 140–142). The father also passes his land and his title (if he has one) on to his eldest son. Besides his rights, the father also has many duties mainly consisting of taking care of his family. Children have to consider a number of taboos with regard to their father. It is prohibited to touch the father’s head or his personal belongings, such as his bed and his clothes, and children are not allowed to eat his food or to finish his leftovers.9 These taboos do not apply to the father’s brother, and the relationship with fa‘ē (mother and mother’s sisters) is free from restraints and prohibitions (cf. Gifford 1929: 18; Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 145–147). Instead, the motherchild relation is characterised by warm love (‘ofa māfana), orders and discipline in the process of childcare and education. In contrast to the mother, the mother’s sisters have less parental authority (cf. Morton 1996: 125–126). When the parents are aged, the grown-up children support and care for them. Therefore, they often live in the same household once again (cf. §2.1.1). c.  Relationship between ego and ego’s mehekitanga or the mehekitanga’s children The father’s sister (mehekitanga) is in a special position of higher status vis-à-vis ego. She is therefore supposed to receive even greater respect (faka‘apa‘apa) than ego’s father (tamai) and hence the strongest taboos around her person, her food and her belongings (especially her bed and clothes) apply. Within the kāinga, she is even attributed the power to control the supernatural force (mana) which she can use either to curse or to cure.10 She controls special events such as birth, ­matrimonial destinies and death of her brother’s children (fakafotu), occasions on .  ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 27.8.2007) remarked that nowadays the father should also respect his children (according to Christian belief). As a consequence of this reciprocal respect between the father and his children, the taboos are starting to weaken. .  Although some approaches (especially Rogers 1977) have only referred to the negative force, it is rather an ambivalent one as outlined by later studies (cf. Taumoefolau 1991 and especially Douaire-Marsaudon 1996).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

which new members join or old ones leave the kāinga. She may provoke the death of a newly born fakafotu, but may also help if the birth is difficult, and in most cases, she (or at least another patrilateral relative) is the one who bestows a name on the child.11 Similarly, she has the power to prohibit a marriage or to mediate between the two kāinga. The outcome hinges on whether the duty (fatongia) towards her having been carried out and the taboos not broken. In daily life and especially at all private events such as births, special birthdays, weddings and funerals (cf. §4.2.1), the mehekitanga is in an eminent position of great honour and importance which is called the fahu12 position. This means that she is “above the law” (Gifford 1929: 23). The superior status of a sister and mehekitanga also becomes apparent in the most frequent kind of adoption in Tonga in which a woman adopts her brother’s child (fakafotu). In a wider sense, this can even be regarded as a case of claiming his property (cf. Gifford 1929: 17; DouaireMarsaudon 1996: 147–151, 154–156). In several situations, I have observed that children leave the house when their mehekitanga is present to avoid her commands which they would have to obey. Analogous to the mehehikitanga, her children (i.e. ego’s ‘ilamutu) also have higher status than ego and enjoy various liberties vis-à-vis their mother’s brother (tu‘asina or fa‘ē tangata); the relationship is free of taboos and they can ask him for any item of his property. As he is in the corresponding role to the mehekitanga, he must fulfil such demands. The ‘ilamutu and his special right regarding his tu‘asina is also called fahu in Tongan. Of all the ‘ilamutu, the eldest daughter of a man’s eldest sister is known as the ‘great fahu’ (cf. Gifford 1929: 24). Regarding the two fahu meanings, that is the mehekitanga’s position at special occasions and their children (who can also replace her in this position), Helu (personal communication, 21.3.2003) generally describes the mehekitanga as the “source of fahu”. Moreover, the mehekitanga’s children are not only higher in status vis-à-vis ego but also vis-à-vis ego’s children (cf. Gifford 1929: 22–23; Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 150–153). On special occasions (i.e. private events such as weddings, funerals and birthdays), specific behaviour patterns become even more apparent as the tu‘a/‘eiki status is exclusively based on the ego of the occasion. At a funeral or a wedding therefore one’s relationship with the deceased or with the bride and groom is decisive and special behaviour is required in accordance with it (cf. §4.2.1).

.  In Niutoua (cf. question 2 of the inquiry), most interviewees were named by their mehekitanga or another relative of the father’s side. Thus ‘eiki relatives of the newborn child had the privilege to choose the name. Only in very few cases relatives of the mother’s side, close friends or a priest/minister chose the child’s name. .  This term has been adopted from the Fijian term vasu together with the vasu custom, that is the power of the sister’s children (cf. Buck 1954: 310).



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

At such events the respective mehekitanga (as special ‘eiki person) is said to be in the position of fahu. At funerals the fahu position may also be occupied by the FZ’s children if the deceased is a woman or by the sister’s children if the deceased is a man. The tu‘a relatives are in the corresponding position, and at funerals, they are collectively referred to as liongi (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 169–170). The tu‘a/‘eiki status on special occasions is made visible by means of clothing (cf. §4.1.2), gift exchange (cf. §4.2), tasks and privileges (cf. §4.2.1) and certain spatial seating arrangements (cf. §3.5.2). 2.1.4  Kinship terminology and social status within the kāinga The social factors which determine the status within the kāinga are sex, relative age and patrilateral versus matrilateral kin (cf. §2.1.3.). These social factors generally coincide with the distinctive features on which the system of kinship terminology is based (cf. §2.1.2.). This leads to the conclusion that the system of kinship terminology is related to the system of social relations of corresponding society as Lynch (cf. 1998: 251–256) has demonstrated for other languages. Lynch generally remarks that although there is a finite number of possible kinship systems (­referring to universalistic approaches such as Murdock’s and Lowie’s categories), each system has developed in a certain way in order to express a particular complex network of social relations and social organisation. This tie between language and culture is consistent due to the fact that the kinship terminology must be designed to express the specific system of social structure in an unequivocal and ­unambiguous way containing all necessary information without being redundant. The following is an analysis of ethnolinguistic relation of Tongan kinship terminology and social status within the kāinga based on the same distinctive social features in more detail. Firstly, within the group of siblings ego’s sex is important in combination with the referent’s sex, that is from a male’s perspective all his sisters are ‘eiki and from a female’s perspective all brothers are tu‘a. Indeed, exactly these two relationships are described in unequivocal terms based on the same social features (sex of ego and referent): tuofefine (male ego: his sisters) or tuonga‘ane (female ego: her brothers). The result is that for the group of siblings (leaving out the cousins, officially called tuofefine‘aki and tuonga‘ane‘aki), the tuofefine are ‘eiki to ego while the tuonga‘ane are tu‘a. The second social feature is relative age which is important within the group of same sex siblings (tokoua). From a male perspective older brothers are ‘eiki and younger brothers are tu‘a just as from a female perspective older sisters are ‘eiki and younger sisters are tu‘a. Again, the terms ta‘okete (older same sex siblings) and tehina (younger same sex siblings) express the corresponding social structure exactly. The fact that in this case the same term applies to a male’s older brother and a female’s older sister, instead of two different terms, is explicable by otherwise resulting redundancy. The two relationships do

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

not overlap and they express the same status; all ta‘okete are ‘eiki to ego. In the same way, the term tehina is sufficient to describe the remaining group of tu‘a siblings. Status within the first ascending generation depends on the sex of the referent and the connecting relative; matrilateral versus patrilateral kin. The most ‘eiki ­relative is the father’s sister and the most tu‘a relative is the mother’s brother. They are both described by special terms: mehekitanga (FZ) and tu‘asina (MB). The father’s brother has lower status than the FZ but the same status as the father. Consequently, the same term applies to FB and father: tamai (or rather tamai‘aki for the FB). The mother’s sister who has the same status as the mother is also called fa‘ē (or rather fa‘ē‘aki for the MZ). Their status is lower than that of tamai, but higher than that of tu‘asina. This shows that the terminology again unequivocally reflects the differences in the dimension of status. In the first descending generation from a female perspective, her brother’s children are tu‘a as she is their mehekitanga. The brother’s children are all called by the term fakafotu which means “making someone apparent or manifest or prominent” (Helu, in Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 149). This is exactly what a woman does with regard to her fakafotu by accepting them as new members of the kāinga and by giving them a name (cf. §2.1.3). From a male perspective, his sister’s children who are in a fahu or ‘eiki position (vis-à-vis their tu‘asina) are also described by a special term: ‘ilamutu. Regarding his own children and his brother’s children, a male ego is ‘eiki. However, they are not all called by the same term. The terminology distinguishes them according to sex: foha (sons of a male ego and his brothers) and ‘ofefine (daughters of male ego and his brothers). Only from a male perspective are children distinguished according to sex. This could be explained by the social system of inheritance in which sex is an important factor. A man generally passes on his land and title to his oldest son, a foha. The only case in which the kinship term does not clearly correspond to social status is for the children of a female ego and her sisters (tama). While the children of her older sisters are ‘eiki to her, her younger sisters’ children are tu‘a and the status of her own children is not even very clear at all. This probably derives from the fact that there is hardly any status difference between a mother and her sisters (as relative age is less important in this case than matrilaterality) as well as between a mother and her children. Consequently, tama are only in a slightly ‘eiki or tu‘a position depending on the relative age of the mother’s sister and this slight difference in status is not represented in the kinship terminology. The relationship between ego and ego’s grandparents or ego’s grandchildren is based on nearly equal status, and therefore it is not necessary to make a termino­ logical distinction between kin of these generations by any social feature, not even sex. All kin of the second ascending generation are called kui and those of the second descending generation mokopuna.



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

For kin who are related to ego through not more than one connecting relative, this analysis has shown that the kinship terminology is anchored in the social structure, that is mainly the tu‘a/‘eiki system within the kāinga. Each kinship term unequivocally describes members who are either in a tu‘a or in an ‘eiki ­position vis-à-vis ego. Table 2.2 gives a summary. A further interesting aspect concerning the Tongan kinship terminology will be analysed in Section 7.3.2.2: why do the various kinship terms occur with different possessive markers? Table 2.2.  Kinship terms and corresponding status (for kin who are related through not more than one connecting relative) Status

Kin terms

‘eiki

mehekitanga (FZ), ‘ilamutu (FZ’s children), tuofefine (male ego’s sisters), ta‘okete (older same sex siblings), tamai (F & FB) tu‘asina (MB), fakafotu (MB’s children), tuonga‘ane (female ego’s brothers), tehina (younger same sex siblings), foha (sons of male ego and his brothers), ‘ofefine (daughters of male ego and his brothers) fa‘ē (M & MZ), tama (children of female ego and her sisters), kui (grandparents), mokopuna (grandchildren)

tu‘a

hardly a difference in status

2.2  Societal ranking This section deals with ‘societal ranking’, that is the absolute rank within society as a whole. Each Tongan belongs unequivocally to one class or societal group. However, not all Tongans with chiefly rank have the same status. Within this societal group, the relative status depends on the genealogy of the first chiefly title holders, that is the ha‘a ranking. In conclusion, we will see how an ego’s social status within his kāinga may interact with his societal rank. Within the kāinga of the Tu‘i (i.e. the paramount chief), this has reinforced certain positions, but other examples also demonstrate that these two hierarchical structures may counteract each other and create situations of conflict. 2.2.1  Classes or societal groups Tongan society consists of three classes, to which membership is ascribed by birth: –– the king (tu‘i), –– the chiefs (hou‘eiki) and –– the commoners (kau tu‘a).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

To get a more precise understanding of this modern societal ranking, I will go back in time and present a short overview of its historical development. The highest ranked title in Tonga was the Tu‘i Tonga, a paramount chief or king, who was the central political and spiritual head of society. Besides the Tu‘i Tonga, there were several other chiefly titles that descended from the Tu‘i Tonga (cf. Bott 1981: 12). The Tu‘i Tonga derived his superior rank from being the closest descendant of the divine line, i.e. the sky god Tangaloa (cf. Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 156–158).13 After numerous assassinations in the succession of the Tu‘i Tonga, in about the 15th century the 24th title holder decided to split the power and created a second title called Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua, for which he appointed his younger brother. The spiritual power remained with the Tu‘i Tonga, while the task of temporal secular government, that is ruling the kingdom on behalf of the Tu‘i Tonga, was given to the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua. The sixth Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua created another title of secular power, the Tu‘i Kanokupolu. This new title was given to one of his younger sons, while the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua title was passed on to his oldest son according to the rules of succession. Each of the three Tu‘i titles further had their own chiefly titles (given to younger sons and brothers) grouped into ha‘a, or groups of title-holders, based on the kinship ties between the first holders of those titles, and their people (cf. Kaeppler 1971: 179–180; Bott 1981: 12–14, 31). Consequently, at that time the Tu‘i Tonga (as an intermediary between the people and the gods) held the highest ranked position in Tongan society, followed by the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua, then the Tu‘i Kanokupolu and then the other chiefs according to the genealogical proximity of the first title holder to the descent line of the Tu‘i Tonga (ha‘a ranking; cf. §2.2.2). At the end of the 18th century, this traditional system became unstable as rivalry among and within the three Tu‘i lines caused a period of civil war. The power of the Tu‘i Kanokupolu increased, while the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua line lost in status and became defunct. During this time, among others, the missionaries arrived in Tonga and as Christianity spread, the Tu‘i Tonga’s spiritual power declined. Finally, he joined the Catholic Church, while the 19th Tu‘i ­Kanokupolu (George Tupou I) adopted the Wesleyan faith. In a final civil war, the Tu‘i ­Kanokupolu defeated the Tu‘i Tonga, and thus, became the supreme ruler (King George Tāufa‘āhau Tupou I) as he was then the only Tu‘i. The last Tu‘i Tonga had died in 1865 and consequently that title was also defunct (cf. Kaeppler 1971: 180; Campbell 2001: 59–84).

.  The Tu‘i Tonga is said to be a descendant from ‘Aho‘eitu in a collateral line. ‘Aho‘eitu was semi-divine (that is half-man and half-god), as he was the child of the god Tangaloa who climbed down from the sky and a woman of the early Tongan population (cf. Kaeppler 1971: 180).



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

The modern day royal line is descended from the Tu‘i Kanokupolu who was once the lowest of the three Tu‘i lines. As the descendants of the other two Tu‘i lines lived on, the problem concerning power had to be solved. The two former Tu‘i lines were given new chiefly titles (Kalaniuvalu and Tungī) and intermarriage between the three lines raised the rank of the Tu‘i Kanokupolu line. The modern day king, King Tāufa‘āhau Tupou IV, genealogically incorporates all three Tu‘i lines. However, his inherited title is Tu‘i Kanokupolu (cf. Kaeppler 1971: 180–181, 187). He can therefore be called tu‘i ‘o Tonga (lit. ‘king of Tonga’) but not Tu‘i Tonga as he does not hold this traditional title. The royal title was passed on from King George Tāufa‘āhau Tupou I (1845–1893) to his great-grandson Tupou II (1893–1918), who transmitted it to his daughter Tupou III, that is Queen Sālote (1918–1965).14 Today’s King Tāufa‘āhau Tupou IV succeeded his mother in 1965 as the forth monarch of the new political system (cf. Bott 1981: 14; Wood-Ellem 1999: Fig.1.5). Figure 2.3 gives a detailed overview of the kinship relations between the royal title holders (cf. Taulahi 1979: 7–8; Wood-Ellem 1999: Fig. 2.2, Fig. 5.1, Fig. 19.1). Tupou I Ta‘uakitau (1839–42)

Lupepau‘u (1)

Fīnau Kaunanga (2)

Vuna Salotē Mafile‘o (1844–62) Pilolevu (1824–91)

Tu‘ipelehake (Filiaipulotu)

Tu‘ipelehake (Fatafehi) (1842–1912) Tupou II Tungī Mata‘aho

Tupouto‘a

Tupou IV Pilolevu

Kalolaine Fusimatalili (3) Tēvita‘Unga

Fusipala

Lavinia (1) Tupou III

Tuku‘aho

‘Alaivahamama‘o

Ngū

Fifita Vava‘u

Laifone

Takipō (2) Fusipala

Tu‘ipelehake ‘Aho ‘eitu

Figure 2.3.  Genealogy of royal title holders

.  According to the Constitution of 1875, the king’s successor had to be the eldest legitimate male descendant and in absence of such a male descendant a female one (cf. Lātūkefu 1975: 124). As Tupou II had two illegimate sons and two legitimate daughters, his oldest legitimate daughter Sālote was heir to the crown (cf. Wood-Ellem 1999: 18–17, Fig.5.1).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

While in traditional Tongan society chiefly rank was determined by lineal descent from the Tu‘i Tonga line, that is divine origin, since the time of King George Tāufa‘āhau Tupou I and the formulation of the Constitution of 1875, all higher ranked Tongans trace a blood relation to the king and through him as Tu‘i Kanokupolu also to the Tu‘i Tonga (cf. Gifford 1929: 122–123). However, chiefly rank and political power (i.e. holding a chiefly title) did not always coincide. It was possible to hold a chiefly title without being of aristocratic descent (matu‘a tauhi fonua: lit. ‘old men who look after the land’) or to be of aristocratic descent without holding a title (sino ‘i ‘eiki: lit. ‘chiefly in blood’). The term ‘eiki (mostly translated as ‘chief ’) originally described “someone of aristocratic descent” and not ­necessarily a title holder (Queen Sālote in Bott 1981: 10–11). According to Gifford (cf. 1929: 123), one is of chiefly rank if parents, ideally both, are of chiefly blood. Children of one chiefly parent and one commoner are by comparison considered as half-chiefs (ngeesi taha). In this case, it is not relevant whether the father or the mother is of chiefly blood, that is the father’s and the mother’s line are equally important with regard to rank (cf. Kaeppler 1971: 179). Traditionally, a chiefly title holder was supposed to rule and organise a local group (his political kāinga; cf. §2.1.1), the people who lived and worked on the land that he held. His political power depended on the size and strength of that group. The success of a chiefly line depended on a combination of marriages15 with Tongans of strong local groups for political support and with those of high rank to increase the rank of one’s own chiefly line (cf. Bott 1981: 20, 55–58). The succeeding holder of a title was chosen by his kin group (his personal kāinga), but finally the Tu‘i or another senior title holder from whose line the title was derived appointed them (cf. Bott 1981: 20–21). In fact, the favoured title succession was patrilineal, it was nevertheless possible for women of chiefly blood also to have access to political power and to hold a title (cf. Herda 1987; Gunson 1987). The great change in the societal system during the reign of King George Tāufa‘āhau Tupou I and the formulation of the Constitution of 1875 also resulted in various rearrangements concerning the chiefly titles and their succession. Only a few (33) of all chiefs were officially appointed with hereditary titles (called nōpele, derived from the word ‘noble’)16 and since then fixed

.  Traditionally, polygamy (that is polygyny) was common in Tonga, especially within the group of higher ranked Tongans (cf. Gifford 1929:  189–190; Ferdon 1987:  135–136; Gailey 1987: 128ff). .  King George Tāufa‘āhau Tupou I first created 20 nōpele titles and later, in 1880, he added ten more. Two additional nōpele were then appointed by King Tupou II during his reign and a last one by Queen Sālote (cf. Campbell 2001: 148–149).



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

rules regulate their succession. The first-born son generally inherits the nōpele title and if there is no son, it can be passed through the female line but not to a female heir. The chiefly titles that were converted into nōpele were those with the most powerful obligations at that time, and thus, the king aligned their ­interest with his own (cf. Bott 1981: 20, 31, 59–60; Campbell 2001: 99). The nōpele names are: Ata, ­Fakafanua, Fakatulolo, Fielakepa, Fohe, Fotofili, Fulivai, Fusitu‘a, Kalaniuvalu, Lasike, Lavaka, Luani, Malupō, Ma‘afu, Ma‘atu, Niukapu, Nuku, Tangipā, Tuita, Tungī, Tupouto‘a, Tu‘iha‘angana, Tu‘iha‘ateiho, Tu‘ilakepa, Tu‘ipelehake, Tu‘ivakanō, Tu‘i‘āfitu, Vaea, Vaha‘i, Veikune, Ve‘ehala, ‘Ahome‘e, and ‘Ulukālala (cf. list provided by ‘Aisea Hingano in 2003). The constitution officially abolished the traditional chieftainship and replaced it with the new aristocracy (i.e. the nōpele), but there are still actual traditional chiefs with ceremonial status (such as Tāmale in Niutoua) although they do not have legal power. Therefore today there are two kinds of chiefs: the nōpele who are the officially appointed chiefs with hereditary titles including an estate (i.e. ‘legal chiefs’), and ‘traditional chiefs’ without land or legal title (cf. Kaeppler 1971: 179; Campbell 2001: 99). According to Gifford (cf. 1929: 123), all chiefs are called by the collective term hou‘eiki (hou is a collective prefix and ‘eiki means ‘chief ’, ‘aristocratic descent’ or ‘higher ranked’) but Bott (cf. 1981: 10) narrows its use to all hereditary title holders, that is only the nōpele. However, I have heard people using the term hou‘eiki for all the other traditional chiefs without official title in contrast to the term nōpele. These traditional chiefs still trace a blood relation to the royal line; they are ‘eiki in the sense of ‘being of aristocratic descent’, although this relation is often not that clear any more. I will use the terms nōpele and hou‘eiki in this contrasting sense in order to express the distinction between the different kinds of chiefs although the word hou‘eiki literally has the general meaning of ‘chiefs’. Gifford (cf. 1929: 108)17 mentions an additional intermediary class between chiefs and commoners: the chiefs’ ceremonial attendants (matāpule). However, there are several reasons to argue that matāpule should be considered a special position rather than a class. Gifford (1929: 111) himself describes matāpule as an “office to which men are appointed from among the higher non-chiefly families”, i.e. they are part of the class of commoners although they hold a special position within this class. They serve as spokesmen and counsellors of the chiefs. Bott (cf. 1981: 12) however remarks that they did not hold political power as official

.  Gifford wrote the first ethnography of Tongan society. Besides his monograph, there are other early accounts (cf. Martin 1991 [1817]: 287–297; Wood 2003 [1932]: 3) which also contain information about these classes in traditional Tongan society that no longer exist.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

advisors of their chiefs.18 According to Ferdon (cf. 1987: 36–37) matāpule were traditionally regarded as an intellectual elite because of their great knowledge of rites, ceremonies and traditional customs. This knowledge and thus the matāpule office is generally passed on to a son or a brother. Gifford (1929:  109) further introduces the term mu‘a (lit. ‘front’, ‘one who goes ahead’) which describes a matāpule as the person “who goes to a place in advance of his chief ”. Mu‘a ‘eiki or just mu‘a also means to have genealogical chiefly connections but to hold a matāpule title (cf. Gifford 1929: 109; Kaeppler 1971: 179; Lātūkefu 1975: 6). Consequently mu‘a is regarded as a separate position which is located between chiefs and matāpule. However, this placement of mu‘a seems to have changed over time. In pre-contact times, mu‘a was a position between matāpule and tu‘a (cf. Gailey 1987: 58). This is one of Ferdon’s findings (cf. 1987: 37–40) describing mu‘a as a son or brother of a matāpule who was supposed to inherit the matāpule position after the former matāpule’s death.19 While the former matāpule was still alive, the mu‘a served the matāpule and learnt from him in order to inherit his position. According to ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 27.8.2007), mu‘a describes someone who can sit ‘in front’ in a kava circle if neither the king nor any nōpele is present (cf. §3.5.1). These are the six matāpule with hereditary estate (cf. §3.1). In contrast to the chiefs who trace a direct blood relation back to the royal line, the commoners (kau tu‘a: lit. ‘people of lower rank’) can be regarded as individuals who are descended through a series of younger brothers (that is those who generally do not inherit the chiefly title and sink in rank because of primogeniture), and thus, their line became further and further removed from the chiefly title holder. This shows that a person’s societal rank is not only determined by the rank of both parents, but also by sex and order of birth (cf. Gifford 1929: 112). In former times, there was another class of people that were lower in rank than the commoners (tu‘a): the slaves or war prisoners (pōpula). This group was quite small and Gifford (cf. 1929: 111) points out that it had disappeared, probably through the influence of the missionaries.

.  Though unofficially they could influence the chiefs (‘Aisea Hingano: personal communication, 27.8.2007). .  Ferdon (cf. 1987:  36–40) brings forward a further argument that matāpule and mu‘a should be considered more as special positions within the class of tu‘a rather than separate classes or societal groups; besides these two positions, the other family members were regarded as commoners (tu‘a) and their relation to the chiefly lines was not clear. According to Ferdon’s definition, I would even add a further explanation; a person did not belong to the group of mu‘a for all their lifetime because they became a matāpule. However, this is the case for members of the other societal groups or classes such as hou‘eiki and tu‘a.



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

So far, I have used the term ‘classes’, similar to many other approaches (cf. ­Gifford 1929: 108ff; Kaeppler 1971: 179; Evans 2001: 32–33), for groups of different societal rank. However, it is important to mention that the Tongan social structure is a set of interacting principles rather than fixed structures (cf. §2.3) and no two Tongans actually have the same rank. Especially in the traditional ­system, high rank was not always in accordance with great authority or a title. Furthermore, the boundary between ‘eiki and tu‘a rank was not always clear as many Tongans would be able to claim some degree of ‘eiki status. Even today, traditional chiefs trace more or less remote relationships to the Tu‘i lines to emphasise their status which is not always clear any more. Therefore, the concept of ‘class’ as a homogeneous and clearly bound social and economic unit is not applicable to the traditional system of societal rank and more accurately describes the class-based features of the modern system: nōpele, better educated middle class with salaried jobs and higher income, and peasants (cf. Bott 1981: 39–40; Marcus 1993: 22). In summary, Tongan society after 1875 shows the following ranking structure: sovereign and royal family, nōpele, traditional chiefs of lower rank and commoners (including matāpule) (cf. Wood-Ellem 1999: Fig. 2.1). 2.2.2  Ha‘a ranking As mentioned above, in Tonga nobody has the same rank. Even within the societal group of chiefs, there is always a difference in rank based on a further ranking system, called ha‘a ranking, rating the chiefly titles in relation to each other. The status of the different chiefly titles is based on the genealogical proximity of their ancestors, more precisely the first holder of this title, to the descent line of the Tu‘i Tonga. The more closely the first title holder was related to the Tu‘i Tonga, the higher the rank of that title (cf. Bott 1981: 31). Societal rank was determined by lineal descent from the Tu‘i Tonga and actually depended on both sides, both father and mother (bilateral). However, not every Tongan of high societal rank did in fact have power qua their title. The favoured pattern of title succession was patrilineal20 and due to primogeniture the eldest brother outranked his younger ones (cf. Herda 1987: 196). .  Despite the importance of patrilineality, patrilineages only existed implicitly because the Tongan system values chiefly title and land over partilineage – people could decide to leave and live on the land of another chiefly title holder (cf. Bott 1981: 21–23). Moreover, matrilinear ha‘a reckoning and political realignment of lineages also occurred (cf. Bott 1982: 81, 83–85). Gifford (cf. 1929: 31) also stresses the geographical aspect of defining a ha‘a as the people who live together in a certain place; van der Grijp (cf. 1993: 132) even defines the ha‘a as a ‘local group’. Thus, a ha‘a cannot be regarded as a usual form of lineage (that is a societal organisation in which everyone claims membership by unilineal descent): firstly, because a ha‘a is not strictly patrilineal, secondly, because it focuses more on titles rather than descent

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

The ranking of the three Tu‘i titles and their lines is therefore as follows: the title of Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua was lower ranked than that of Tu‘i Tonga as the first Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua was a younger brother of the Tu‘i Tonga. On the other hand, the title of Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua was higher ranked than that of Tu‘i Kanokupolu because the first Tu‘i Kanokupolu was a younger son of the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua, while the older brother of the first Tu‘i Kanokupolu succeeded his father as the next Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua. Each chiefly title derived from one of the three Tu‘i lines and they were ranked in a similar way according to the relationship of the first title holder and the Tu‘i lines. Further minor titles emerged within the political kāinga of a chief, called tehina (younger brother) or foha (a man’s son) titles of that chiefly title (cf. Bott 1981: 24). Similarly, Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua can be called a tehina title of Tu‘i Tonga, and Tu‘i Kanokupolu a foha title of Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua. The ha‘a ranking was not important during daily life but on special occasions at the societal level, it determined the ceremonial order (most explicitly expressed in the sitting order of the royal kava circle and the speech preludes addressing the assembled chiefs; cf. §3.5.1) and the flow of tribute (for example during the ‘inasi ceremony to celebrate the first harvest of a yams season; cf. §4.2.2). A political kāinga had obligations to their title holder who had to pay tribute to his senior in title; and finally the senior title holder had formal obligations to the Tu‘i (cf. ­Kaeppler 1971: 183, 185; Bott 1981: 27–28; Bott 1982: 80). A ha‘a can thus be defined as a group of genealogically related titles, that is the title holders with their respective political kāinga who are mobilised by each title in order to fulfil their obligations (fatongia) to their senior title holder and consequently the Tu‘i. This group of titles of one ha‘a all descended from the same common ancestor, the senior title (cf. Bott 1981:  27–31). There were three sets of ha‘a titles as each title derived from one of the three Tu‘i lines. The ha‘a of the Kauhala‘uta (i.e. the Tu‘i Tonga line) are the Ha‘a Ngana, the Sina‘e, the Ha‘a ­Talafale (headed by the Tu‘i Faleua) and the Ha‘a Falefisi. The ha‘a of the Kauhalalalo (i.e. the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua and Tu‘i Kanokupolu lines) are the Ha‘a Vaea (including Ha‘a Takalaua), the Ha‘a Lātūhifo, the Ha‘a Ngata Motu‘a, the Ha‘a Ma‘afu, the Ha‘a Ngata Tupu and the Ha‘a Havea with its subordinate ha‘a (Ha‘a Havealahi and Ha‘a Haveasi‘i). The position of each ha‘a depended on the placement of the ­common ancestor of that ha‘a within the genealogy (cf. Gifford 1929:  33–38; ­Kaeppler 1971: 185–188; Bott 1982: 79–80). The original holder of the Tāmale title in Niutoua was a son of an early Tu‘i Tonga. Thus, he belonged to the Sina‘e or more precisely the Sina‘e ki mu‘a

groups, and thirdly, at least today, most commoners are not aware of the ha‘a structure and do not claim membership within a ha‘a (cf. Bott 1982: 78–80).



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

(lit. ‘front-Sina‘e’), that is he did not sit behind the kava bowl (tou‘a) but in the kava circle (‘alofi) of the Tu‘i Tonga (cf. §3.5.1; cf. Gifford 1929:  33; Bott 1982: 103–104). After the death of the last Tu‘i Tonga, the societal structure of titles and ha‘a was rearranged and also, in this context, the kava circle of the king, the Tu‘i Kanokupolu, in order to include the titles of the Tu‘i Tonga and the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua lines (cf. Bott 1981: 31). Today, most commoners say that they do not know to which ha‘a they belong just as traditional chiefs without official title are beginning to forget their origins and ha‘a descent (cf. Aoyagi 1966: 150; Bott 1981: 31–32; van der Grijp 1993:  181; Evans 2001:  35). The entitled chiefs are however still aware of their ha‘a descend shown in Figure 2.4 (cf. Kaeppler 1971: 186; Bott 1982:  102–135), and because for them the ha‘a ranking is still important in ceremonial acts such as the kava circle (cf. §3.5.1), speech preludes (cf. §2.2.3) and the flow of gifts (cf. §4.2.2.) at special societal events (for example royal weddings or funerals). The ha‘a ranking is then visualised in those ceremonial acts to demonstrate the new hierarchy, that is the position of the new title holders. Faleua: Tu‘ipelehake Ha‘a Tu‘i Tonga: Kalaniuvalu; Sina‘e: Veikune Fale Fisi: Tu‘ilakepa, Tu‘iha‘ateiho, Tu‘i‘āfitu, Ma‘atu, Tu‘iha‘angana, Malupō Ha‘a Vaea: Fakafanua, Fotofili, Luani, Tungī Ha‘a Lātūhifo: Nuku, Niukapu Ha‘a Ngata Motu‘a: ‘Ahome‘e, Ata, Ve‘ehala, Fusitu‘a, Tangipā, Vaha‘i Ha‘a Ma‘afu: Tupouto‘a Ha‘a Ngata Tupu:‘Ulakalala Ha‘a Havea: Fielakepa, Fohe, Lasike, Lavaka, Ma‘afu, Tu‘ivakanō, Vaea Figure 2.4.  Ha‘a affiliation of nōpele titles

2.2.3  Speech preludes In Tonga, speeches and prayers are held on all kind of occasions, such as feasts, in church, at village meetings and of course official kava circles (cf. §3.5.1). These speeches start with an introductory formula, the speech preludes (fakataputapu), in which the assemblage is welcomed and addressed in order of absolute rank (cf. Collocott 1927: 31–32; Gifford 1929: 40). Speech preludes have the following formal structure: ‘Tapu mo …’ (tapu ‘sacred/forbidden’; mo ‘with/and’) which can be translated as ‘my respects to’

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

(cf. Churchward 1953: 303). Tapu mo is further uttered when someone has said something which is improper or disrespectful according to Tongan ideas of propriety (cf. Churchward 1953:  303). The ‘tapu mo plus person/name/title’ can ­consequently be regarded as an ‘apology’ for the act of naming a higher ranked person (or person who has more mana). Thus, it would be a kind of name avoidance (such as the metaphorical circumscription of the Tu‘i Tonga).21 In the speech prelude of the Kauhala‘uta (that is formerly used at events connected with the Tu‘i Tonga), the Tu‘i Tonga was mentioned first. However, he was the only one who was never directly called by his title because he was too sacred to be named in person. He was referred to by metaphorical circumscriptions such as ‘Afio ‘o langi (Majesty of heaven) or Takafalu (back of the chief).22 Then the Tu‘ipelehake (as the brother of the Tu‘i Tonga) was mentioned second, followed by Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua, Tamahā, Sina‘e (the family of the Tu‘i Tonga), etc. (cf. Collocott 1927: 32–33; Gifford 1929: 40–41). Slight variations in different publications of the complete speech prelude might be due to changes of rank among different chiefs or mistakes on the part of the recorders (cf. Gifford 1929: 40–41; cf. Note 9 in Chapter 3). Today, at events concerning the king, the deity is mostly mentioned first, followed by the king and then the chiefs. Gifford (cf. 1929: 42) contains such an example:23 Tapu mo hotau ‘Eiki! Tapu mo hotau Ha‘a Moheofo! Tapu mo hotau Tu‘i Ha‘a Mo‘unga23! Tapu mo hotau Ha‘a Ngata mo Ha‘a Ngata! Tapu mo e Sina‘e ki Mu‘a mo Sina‘e ki Mui! Tapu mo Ha‘a Lātūhifo! Tapu mo Ha‘a Havea! Tapu mo Ha‘a Ma‘afu!

My respects to our Lord/Deity! My respects to our Ha‘a Moheofo (i.e. Tu‘i Kanokupolu)! My respects to our Tu‘i Ha‘a Mo‘unga (i.e. Tu‘i Kanokupolu)! My respects to our Ha‘a Ngata Motu‘a and Ha‘a Ngata Tupu! My respects to the first Sina‘e and the last Sina‘e! My respects to the Ha‘a Lātūhifo! My respects to the Ha‘a Havea! My respects to the Ha‘a Ma‘afu!

.  As Section 8.3.2 will show, the whole language of respect can be regarded as an avoidance language concerning people of higher societal rank. They are referred to and addressed by honorific forms which are more indirect and metaphorical, e.g. langi (sky) is a metaphorical circumscription for the Tu‘i Tonga. .  Both can be regarded as spatial metaphors (cf. Note 21, Note 23 and §8.3.2). .  Just as langi (sky) is used to describe the Tu‘i Tonga, mo‘unga (mountain) can be ­regarded as a spatial metaphor for the king. Both metaphors link the highest ranked member of the Tongan society to an upper place (cf. §3.5).



Tapu mo Ha‘a Vaea! Tapu mo Kanoloto‘a ‘o e hau (‘a ia ko Ha‘a Ngana no Ha‘a Ngana mo Ha‘ateiho ka e uma‘a ‘Afitu mo Lakepa)! Tapu mo Maliepo mo Molofaha!

Tapu mo Fokololo ‘o e hau! Tapu mo moha ngaahi ha‘a fa‘ahinga ‘oku totonu ke kau ki ai ‘a e tala ‘o e fakatapu na‘e fai ‘i he matu‘a ni!

Chapter 2.  Social structure 

My respects to the Ha‘a Vaea! My respects to the chiefs who live within the enclosure of the Tu‘i Kanokupolu (namely Tu‘iha‘angana, Malupō, Tu‘iha‘ateiho, and likewise Tu‘i‘āfitu and Tu‘ilakepa)!24 My respects to Maliepo and Molofaha (i.e. old names of the royal matāpule Motu‘apuaka and Lauaki)! My respects to Fokololo (i.e. ­navigators) of the Tu‘i Kanokupolu! My respects to any Ha‘a or Fa‘ahinga who is not mentioned here but has a right to be mentioned in the prelude the forefathers gave!

Churchward (1953: 303) gives another example of a modern and shorter speech prelude which is also uttered at the beginning of a state event public speech at which the king is present. In this speech prelude, the chiefs are not individually mentioned according to ha‘a ranking and it contains the church, a new group with special respect in the modern society: Tapu mo Ho‘o ‘Afio! Tapu mo hou‘eiki! Tapu mo e kau faifekau! Tapu mo e fakatahá ni!

My respects to Your Majesty! My respects to the chiefs! My respects to the clergy! My respects to this gathering!

At events within a village, the speech prelude also reflects the societal hierarchy but this time only of the villagers (cf. §1.3.2). The prayer of the church service of the Free Wesleyan Church in Niutoua starts as follows (‘Ungatea Fonua Kata: personal communication, 15.1.2003): Tapu mo Tāmale mo hou‘eiki! Tapu mo Fainga‘a mo Tofavaha mo ha‘a matāpule!

My respects to Tāmale (i.e. the chief) and the chiefs! My respects to Fainga‘a (i.e. a matāpule), Tofavaha (i.e. a matāpule) and the matāpule!

.  These are the nōpele of the Ha‘a Fale Fisi. Therefore, ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 27.8.2007) remarked that they should be introduced accordingly: ‘Tapu mo Ha‘a Fale Fisi’.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Tapu mo e faifekau mo faifekau mālōlō mo ha‘a faifekau! Tapu mo e setuata! Tapu mo Niuila mo kau tangata ‘eiki! Tapu mo Eleveni mo kau fine ‘eiki!

My respects to the church minister, the retired church minister and clergymen! My respects to the steward/substitute of the church minister! My respects to Niuila (i.e. an old man) and older/respected men! My respects to Eleveni (i.e. an old woman) and older/respected women!

The important members of the event are addressed in the societal hierarchical order: first, the chief (that is the only villager with higher rank), and then his matāpule. Afterwards other people are named who are important for the event/ occasion. As the example is the beginning of a prayer in church, its officials are mentioned in hierarchical order, that is first the minister (faifekau) and then his representative/steward (setuata). In a village meeting (fono), the governmental representatives are mentioned instead, that is first the district officer (ofisa fakavahe) and then the town officer (ofisa kolo). Finally, older members of the village are mentioned representing the entire older and thus respected population. Just as the kinship terminology (that is its classification of kin) reflects the relative hierarchy, peech preludes are a means of honouring the participants of an event according to their absolute rank. Another closely related linguistic device for acknowledging the societal hierarchy is the language of respect which is analysed in Chapter 8.

2.3  I nteraction of a person’s social status within the kāinga and their societal rank There are several situations in which a person’s societal rank may conflict with his status within the kāinga. This is especially problematic for higher ranked people whose title should not be threatened. There are several strategies for avoiding such conflicts, for example cross cousin marriage with the kāinga of the Tu‘i Tonga or by tracing other kinship links. 2.3.1  Social status within the kāinga of the Tu‘i Tonga At the societal level, the Tu‘i Tonga held the most senior, and therefore the highestranked title but according to the social status within his kāinga, his sister had an even higher status than he. She was given the special title of Tu‘i Tonga Fefine (lit. ‘female Tu‘i Tonga’). Her children were called Tamahā (sacred child) as they were fahu vis-à-vis the Tu‘i Tonga who was their tu‘asina (MB). This higher status of



Chapter 2.  Social structure 

Tu‘i Tonga Fefine and Tamahā allowed them to claim political power through their influence on the Tu‘i Tonga. In order to ensure they did not threaten the special position of his title (and as there was nobody of appropriate rank in Tonga ­suitable for a Tu‘i Tonga Fefine), the first Tu‘i Tonga Fefine (in the early 17th century) married a (high ranked) Fijian. Consequently, their son and the ha‘a he founded, the Ha‘a Falefisi (lit. ‘ha‘a house of Fiji’), were regarded as foreign and not affecting the Tu‘i Tonga line because their ancestor was a Fijian. In the succeeding generations, the Tu‘i Tonga Fefine were supposed to marry a title holder of the Ha‘a ­Falefisi, that is the Tu‘ilakepa or Tu‘iha‘ateiho. It was a cross cousin marriage (kitetama) in a repeating manner as the Tāmaha inherited his father’s title of the Ha‘a Falefisi and the succeeding Tu‘i Tonga Fefine was supposed to marry him. She was his MBD, the daughter of the Tu‘i Tonga, and therefore the sister of the succeeding Tu‘i Tonga. At events on the societal level, the Tāmaha acted in accordance with his title of the Ha‘a Falefisi, and assisted the Tu‘i Tonga because the Ha‘a Falefisi titles were lower ranked than the Tu‘i Tonga title. However, at special occasions within the kāinga, the Tu‘i Tonga deferred to his sister, the Tu‘i Tonga Fefine, and his sister’s children, the Tāmaha, who were both of higher personal status (‘eiki) with regard to him (cf. Kaeppler 1971: 182–183; Bott 1981: 32–34; Gailey 1987: 67–79). Another kitetama marriage – repeated generation after generation – was that between the Tu‘i Tonga and the daughter of a secular ruler, that is the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua and later the Tu‘i Kanokupolu. The Tu‘i Tonga’s principal wife was called/titled Moheofo.25 Therefore the child of Tu‘i Tonga and Moheofo, the ­succeeding Tu‘i Tonga, incorporated both lines. By marrying the daughter of the succeeding secular ruler, his cross cousin (MBD), the Tu‘i Tonga’s higher rank was then constantly reinforced. In this way, the personal status of the succeeding secular ruler was always lower (tu‘a) than that of the Tu‘i Tonga as the succeeding Tu‘i Tonga was the child of his mehekitanga (FZ) (cf. Bott 1981: 33–34; Gailey 1987: 69, 73–75; Herda 1987: 199, 202). Since the title of Tu‘i Tonga has become defunct, also the titles of Tu‘i Tonga Fefine and Tamahā do not exist any more. However, today the descent from the present royal family and the personal status within the royal kāinga can interact as well (cf. Bott 1981: 37–38). Nōpele and members of the royal family still marry aristocrats and there is a tendency for high ranking aristocrats to wed aristocrats of

.  Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 27.8.2007) remarks that Moheofo is more a description of the matrimonial practice of giving the eldest daughter of the Tu‘i Kanokupolu to Tu‘i Tonga. Ma‘itaki is the comparable practice of giving the eldest daughter of the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

similar high rank while low ranking aristocrats marry other aristocrats of similar rank. Today, an alternative is marriage between especially aristocratic women and well-educated and successful commoners, a new group of people with growing respect through education and economic success (cf. Bott 1981: 65–67). 2.3.2  Situations of conflict Within the Tongan social system, the two kinds of hierarchy can conflict if a person’s status within the kāinga contradicts his/her societal rank. Bott (cf. 1981: 38) demonstrates this with two examples: Firstly, if a commoner marries a person of chiefly blood, that is of higher societal rank, and his sister marries a commoner, the sister is still ‘eiki to her brother. However, the problem arises concerning the position of their children. Regarding the status within the kāinga, the sister’s children are ‘eiki to the brother’s children, but regarding societal rank, the children of the brother are partly of chiefly blood, holding higher rank which they inherited from their mother. Secondly, if a high ranked chiefly title holder is present at his mehekitanga’s funeral, his societal rank may be clearly higher than that of the mehekitanga, but at her funeral, he is in a tu‘a position as she is his father’s sister. To avoid such conflicts (e.g. threatening the chiefly rank), Tongans are very skilled in looking for other options to describe the relationship. If in such a case, they could trace a more remote kinship link between the chief and his mehekitanga which would put the chief in an ‘eiki position with regard to her, they would emphasise this relation to let the chief ’s personal status coincide with his societal rank. In Section 8.3.3.2, I describe a further example in which the societal rank of two people may also conflict with the hierarchy at work (in the modern economy); in this situation a commoner is the boss of a member of the royal family.

chapter 3

Land and the symbolic meaning of space The issue of land tenure and its allocation amongst the population is closely ­connected with the social structure as the highest ranked person within the society (traditionally the Tu‘i Tonga and at present the king) owns all land. Furthermore, land holding is related to chiefly titles and even the smaller plots of land are ­generally granted and registered to the male head of the household. Alongside land tenure, further topics of interest are the inheritance of land holdings, people living together on the same land (that is local groups), the importance and use of land and sea, and in this context the geography of the Tongan islands. As the small islands only provide a limited area of living space, other issues to be considered are land shortage and migration. Apart from land holding, social stratification is reflected by spatial constellations, that is the seating order. The symbolic meaning of space becomes evident on occasions of cultural importance but is especially apparent in a formal kava circle. In this context, societal rank and social status are expressed by spatial arrangements, and certain directions and places symbolise higher rank or status (cf. also §6.5). 3.1  Land tenure With the new societal structure introduced by King George Tāufa‘āhau Tupou I and the constitution, there were also major changes in the land tenure system. Therefore, the traditional as well as the current land holding system will be explained in this section. In the traditional land tenure system, all land belonged to the Tu‘i Tonga. It was given to him by the gods as he is regarded as an intermediary to the spiritual power. The Tu‘i Tonga assigned estates to various chiefly title holders who could use and inherit this land, and thus, all land was held by someone and could not be used without permission. A political kāinga was the local group that lived together with a chiefly title holder on his hereditary plot of land. The chief allocated parts of his land to the various ‘ulumotu‘a who were the heads of each fa‘ahinga, that is the subgroups that belonged to his political kāinga (cf. §2.1.1). The people therefore obtained the right to cultivate the land and to live on it via

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

their ‘ulumotu‘a. In return, the people had obligations towards their title holder, their leader; their duty was to support him with gifts of food (the produce of the land and their labour), so that he could fulfil his obligations towards his senior chief or tu‘i (cf. §2.2.2 and §4.2.2). Furthermore, they were required to provide manpower in form of workers and warriors. For the people, residence was a matter of choice although it was usually patrilocal. This is the reason for describing the political kāinga as a patrilineage even though there was no word for it in Tongan and the focus was more on the title and the land through which the local group was defined. The title holder had the power to dispossess or relocate anyone living on his land at any time (cf. Gifford 1929: 171, 174–175; Bott 1981: 15, 21–22, 25–26). Briefly, it can be said that a chiefly title included access to land and the right to rule the local group, the people living on that land. The hereditary land was thus controlled by the title holder. Land and title were generally passed on to a brother or son; although the succession was organised according to strict principles it depended on the political circumstances. It was therefore not uncommon that title and land were inherited by a daughter’s son (cf. Bott 1981: 15). King George Tāufa‘āhau Tupou I adopted a European type of constitution in which, among other things, he introduced a new land tenure system. Apart from slight changes, it is currently still valid. As head of the modern Tongan society, the king owns all the land; it belongs to the Crown and cannot be sold (cf. Gifford 1929: 171; Lātūkefu 1975: 138). Of all the traditional chiefly title holders who formerly had been assigned estates, King George Tāufa‘āhau Tupou I and his successors to the throne have only made 33 important title holders into nōpele (cf. §2.2.1). From that time on, these have been the only officially appointed titles to which hereditary estates (tofia) have been assigned. Apart from the nōpele, hereditary estates were also given to six matāpule of the king (cf. Bott 1981: 59). Table 3.1 gives an overview of the titles and their tofia (cf. Gifford 1929: 172–173; Wood 2003 [1932]: 96–108). The traditional chiefs who were not made nōpele had no tofia and their villages, such as Niutoua, were considered government estates (cf. Bott 1981: 59). As Tāmale has no nōpele title, the village land is not his hereditary estate but is controlled by the government. Land affiliation in Tonga therefore falls under three categories. Some of the land is held by members of the royal family (royal estates), some by the nōpele and the few matāpule (noble estates), and the remaining land by the government (government estates). The royal and the noble estates are hereditary. According to the constitution, the titles and the hereditary estate belonging to each title have to be inherited according to fixed rules instead of the flexible succession of the ­traditional system (cf. Nayacakalou 1959: 98; Fukofuka 1994: 146).



Chapter 3.  Land and the symbolic meaning of space 

Table 3.1.  Nōpele and matāpule titles and their hereditary estates (tofia) Names

Hereditary estates in the [village/area (island)] Tongatapu & Tongatapu group

Lifuka & Ha‘apai group

Vava‘u group & Niuas (*Niuatoputapu; 0Niuafo‘ou)

Nōpele Ata Fakafanua Fakatulolo Fielakepa Fohe Fotofili

Kolovai; Atata Is. Ma‘ufanga – Haveluloto Puke –

– Faleloa (Foa) – – – –

Fulivai

–

–

Fusitu‘a

–

–

Kalaniuvalu Lasike Lavaka Luani Malupō Ma‘afu Ma‘atu Niukapu Nuku Tangipā Tuita

Lapaha, Hamula, Toloa ‘Ahau, … (cf. Map 3.1) Pea, Fualu Malapo, Nakolo, Fetoa

Tungī Tupouto‘a Tu‘iha‘angana

Mu‘a, … (cf. Map 3.1) ‘Utulau (‘Eua) –

Tu‘iha‘ateiho

Ha‘ateiho

Tu‘ilakepa Tu‘ipelehake Tu‘ivakanō Tu‘i‘āfitu

Talasiu Pelehake Nukunuku –

Vaea Vaha‘i Veikune

Houma Fo‘ui Longoteme, Matamoana; Oneata Is.; Kanatea Is.

– – – – ‘Uiha (‘Uiha) – – Fangale‘ounga (Foa) – – Utungake; Ha‘afakahenga (Foa) – – Ha‘ano, Pukotala, Muitoa (Ha‘ano) Tungua Is.; Matuku Is.; Ha‘ateiho (‘Uhia) – Ha‘atalafale – Holopeka; Fonoifua Is. – – –

– – Falevai (Kapa) – – Angaha (W)0, Ahau0, Palau0, Ha’ahoko0 Hunga Is.; Fangalepa, Lotouiha Angaha (E)0, Faletanu0 Ma‘ufanga0 – – – Tefisi Teleki, Taka‘amoatoa – Hihifo*, Vaipoa* – – Mahinafekite* Utungake (Utungake), Futu0 – – –

Ve‘ehala

Fahefa; Pangai (‘Eua)

Vaini, Tokomololo – – Kolonga, … (cf. Map 3.1) – Kolokimuli

–

Ha‘ateiho Ofu Is., Okoa Is. Ha‘atalafale – Makave – Ta‘anea Fongotofe, Lolopipi, Longomapu; Kolotahi Is. –

(Continued)

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Table 3.1.  Nōpele and matāpule titles and their hereditary estates (tofia) (Continued) Names

‘Ahome‘e ‘Ulukālala

Hereditary estates in the [village/area (island)] Tongatapu & Tongatapu group

Lifuka & Ha‘apai group

Vava‘u group & Niuas (*Niuatoputapu; 0Niuafo‘ou)

Ha‘avakatolo –

– –

Utui Hihifo

– – Talafo‘ou Te‘ekiu – –

– – – – Ha‘afeva Is. –

Ha‘alaufuli Leimatua Masilamea Haufolau (Utungake) – Taunga Is.; Fonua‘one‘one Is.

matāpule Afu Fotu Lauaki Motu‘apuaka Tu‘uhetoka ‘Akauola

Map 3.1 shows how the land is distributed on the island of Tongatapu and who was given which estate (cf. Wiemer 1985:  148–150). However, there have been minor changes to this distribution over time as demonstrated by comparisons with older publications (cf. Gifford 1929: 173). From the noble and government estates, allotments are granted to individual Tongans (no foreigners). This is administered by the Ministry of Lands. The Land Act of 1882 established the right that every male Tongan at the age of sixteen or older is entitled to receive a tax allotment (‘api tukuhau or ‘api ‘uta), that is 8.25 acres (= 3.3 hectares) of agricultural land, and a town allotment (‘api kolo), that is a small piece of land (minimum 759 m², maximum 1619 m²) in a town or village area for his house. The two allotments must be in the same village and if there is not enough land for every man who applies for an allotment, some may miss out. On the other hand, a man may not hold more than one allotment of each type (cf. Nayacakalou 1959: 98–99; Ministry of Lands: personal communication, 9.12.2004).1 All allotments have to be registered at the Ministry of Lands which represents the Crown in land matters. For this purpose, an application form has to be submitted together with an administration fee for survey and registration (cf. Puniani 1987:  114). The amount of this fee which has to be paid once is T$43.50 for a town allotment and T$77.50 for a tax allotment. Once the holding is finally registered and the land holder pays the annual tax, it is a lifetime .  Amendments to the Land Act of 1927 allow an individual to lease up to 30 tax allotments which was important for commercialised production (cf. Fukofuka 1994: 146).

King

Lasike

Map 3.1.  Estates on Tongatpu

Gov. Lasike

Tungı

Gov.

Kalaniuvalu

Gov.

Luani

Kalaniuvalu

Tungı

Tu'ipelehake

Luani

Kalaniuvalu

Ma'afu

Gov.

'Ahome'e Vaha'i A'home'e Gov. Motu'apuaka Ata Tungı Fohe Fohe Lasike Ve'ehala Lauaki Nuku Gov. Lasike Tu'ivakano Fakafanua Gov. Government Lasike Gov. Gov. Lasike Fielakepa Ve'ehala Lavaka Kalaniuvalu Luani Gov. Veikune King Vaea Tu'ilakepa 'Ahome'e Tungı Lavaka Veikune Ma'afu Gov. Tu'iha'ateiho Government Tupouto'a

Ata

Gov.

Gov.

Government

Lasike

Chapter 3.  Land and the symbolic meaning of space 

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

leasehold (­maximum term of 99 years).2 The holder can only lose the land if it is not used in conformity with the Land Act or if he stops paying the annual tax of T$0.80 for a tax allotment (cf. Ministry of Lands: personal communication, 22.10.2002; Nayacakalou 1959: 99–100). The hereditary estate holders are paid by the government and are therefore dependent on the king, whereas they had traditionally been supported by their political kāinga. Even with regard to people living on their land, estate holders do not have the same power any more, as they are supposed to grant allotments according to the law. They cannot remove those who already have a registered allotment from that land as they could in the traditional system. The ­Emancipation Edict of 1862 has even freed the commoners from tribute, services and labour (fatongia) to their chiefly estate holder (cf. Fukofuka 1994: 145; Campbell 2001: 90). However, the nōpele are still treated with great respect by the people living on their estate and in their villages, and on special occasions the village people support them with gifts (fatongia) (cf. Bott 1981: 59–60). Moreover, in spite of guaranteed access to land and the prohibition to sell land, some nōpele have in fact only permitted applicants to register land in return for their generosity. People make gifts (me‘a ‘ofa), – even in the form of money – to the nōpele in the hope of obtaining an allotment in return for which they can officially register (cf. Lātūkefu 1975: 54–55; van der Grijp 1993: 193–194).3 As the land is not the land holder’s possession, he is not allowed to sell it but the holding may be inherited. The following rules of succession apply to the heredi­ tary estates (tofia) as well as the allotments granted to individual Tongans. Firstly, if the land holder dies, his widow is entitled to a life estate until she remarries or if she commits adultery or dies. Then the eldest legitimate son of the deceased holder inherits the land according to the rules of patrilineality and primogeniture. Only if there is no male heir can an unmarried daughter of the deceased gain succession.

.  Although registration is necessary to have an official claim to the land, many allotments have been assigned to someone without being registered (cf. Bott 1981: 60; Wiemer 1985: 173–175). In Niutoua, I realised that quite a number of allotments are still not officially registered although all village allotments are distributed. In other cases, the registered holder had already died and the new holder had not registered this change. However, the village population knows exactly to whom each allotment is assigned. .  During an informal interview (5.12.2002) with a Tongan whose family is from Niuatoputapu, she described how difficult it was for her family when they moved to Tongatapu to secure her and her siblings’ school education. In the beginning, they stayed with a relative but then they asked for their own small town allotment in a village which is a nōpele estate. Before the nōpele permitted them to register the allotment, they had to appear several times – always with gifts in the form of tapa, fine mats (fala), pigs, etc. – until they had no more to give.



Chapter 3.  Land and the symbolic meaning of space 

She holds the land until her marriage upon which the holding is handed over to her husband and then her eldest son. If there are no legitimate children or grandchildren at all, the land holding will be passed to the deceased’s (eldest) brother and his male heirs or even to the deceased’s FB and his (male) descendants. In case there is no heir at all or if the heir or widow does not claim his/her right by registering the land under their own name within 12 months, the land officially reverts to the Crown (in practise cf. Note 2). Apart from these rules of succession, a person who already possesses an allotment is not allowed to inherit a second one. In this case, the land will fall to the next legal heir (cf. Nayacakalou 1959: 100; Lātūkefu 1975: 139–140; Moengangongo 1986: 94–97). These rules governing land inheritance show that land is primarily a male affair (viricentric). This corresponds to the fact that agricultural work is seen as a male domain (cf. §4.1.1). Besides access to land (for agriculture), the subsistence economy also depends on sea access for fishing (cf. §4.1). In order to guarantee this to everybody in the villages on the coast, all beachfront land belongs to the government (cf. Campbell 2001: 99). A land holder may also lease his land, but cabinet approval is required for this. If someone is not using their allotment for a lengthy period of time (for example if they are living overseas), it is prudent to permit someone else to use it in the meantime because otherwise the holder could loose their land if it is not used according to the Land Act (cf. Nayacakalou 1959: 104). When land is borrowed from a relative usually no payment is made, but in the case of borrowing the land from someone unrelated it is customary to give part of the crop to the landholder. As it is against the law to sell land it is in fact illegal to take cash payment in return for the use of land. However, Maude (cf. 1973: 173) has already stated that this does occur and that the number of cases is growing. I was told that in such cases money is not regarded as a payment but rather as a gift in return for the land (cf. §4.3). Summarising, there are different possibilities to gain access to an allotment: it can be applied for and granted, inherited or leased. In Niutoua (cf. questions 11, 12 and 18 of the inquiry), most interviewees have acquired their village allotments through inheritance. In these cases the oldest son usually has inherited the allotment from his father. In one instance a father divided his sizable allotment between his two eldest sons. Other allotments were passed on from a father to his daughter’s son or an adopted son because the man had no biological son. The only case in which a woman was entitled to the land was that of a widowed wife whose husband has been the former owner. Apart from inheritance, many people in Niutoua have applied for empty allotments and have had their application granted by the government. In most of these

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

cases, the applicants had an older brother who inherited the father’s allotment, and therefore they had no access to land through inheritance. The third method of accessing village allotments in Niutoua was actually the illegal act of buying it. In these few cases, however, the owners preferred to describe it as an exchange process, for example when the owner offered the ­allotment in exchange for the liquidation of his debts.

3.2  Local groups The basic local unit of people living together on the same piece of land (‘api kolo) and in the same house (fale), is the household (‘api). It generally consists of a nuclear family (a married couple and their unmarried children) and sometimes the parents or unmarried relatives of the husband or wife. However, there is constant fluctuation in the household membership whenever certain situations arise (cf. §2.1.1; cf. Maude 1973: 171). The household is the production and consumption unit whose members work and live from the same ‘api ‘uta. The close relation between the social unit of a household and its land becomes apparent through the term ‘api; it refers to the group of people (household) as well as to the land (allotment) they share. However, allotments are held by individual males and not by households. It is therefore possible that a household has more than one allotment (for example if more than one adult male lives in that household and each has his own allotment) or even no tax allotment at all (for example due to land shortage). Members of a household may also have a tax allotment in another village or on another island (cf. Nayacakalou 1959: 103–105). Tonga is often described as a predominantly virilocal society. This means that after marriage the woman moves to her husband’s village where they found a new household. However, this is not the only residency pattern as uxorilocality occurs as well. Where a couple sets up their own new household strongly depends on where they have the best chances to inherit or otherwise acquire an allotment, be it in his or her village or even elsewhere. Another reason for a man to move to his wife’s residence may be that his residence is not representative enough, especially if she has a special family background (cf. Aoyagi 1966: 149; van der Grijp 1993: 150, 191; ‘Ungatea Fonua Kata: personal communication, 15.1.2003). In Niutoua (cf. questions 6 and 7 of the inquiry), the dominant residency ­pattern of the interviewees was virilocality, meaning that the males generally spent their whole life in Niutoua, while the females are either from Niutoua as well, or they moved to the village after marrying a man from Niutoua. There are very few exceptions: the Methodist ministers who were sent to Niutoua by the church



Chapter 3.  Land and the symbolic meaning of space 

organisation for a period of time (cf. Note 10 in Chapter 1) and a man from ‘Afā who moved to Niutoua, his mother’s village, where he had inherited the allotment of his mother’s father. In this last case the reason for a non-virilocal residency pattern was access to land. The fāmili is a larger local group than the household. It is a social unit of relatives that act together and support each other in daily activities and usually live in the same village or at least in close proximity (cf. §2.1.1). It is even possible that these households are connected by cultivating the same land, either by sharing the same tax allotment (if the households do not have one each) or by combining their tax allotments and cultivating them together. In Niutoua (cf. question 20 of the inquiry), most households have at least one tax allotment, although there are not enough for all men in the village. The few households who do not have a tax allotment at all generally participate in the cultivation of a relative’s allotment or they have another source of income (usually salaried employment). Occasionally men with their own tax allotment would rather let it lie fallow for practical purposes and cultivate an allotment together with a fāmili member if they do not need them both. The fāmili consists of several households that are related and act together within a village as a local group (cf. §2.1.1). This explains the reason for the head of the fāmili (the ‘ulumotu‘a) being male. In a predominantly virilocal society men have a network of consanguineal relatives while women marry into other villages (cf. van der Grijp 2004: 33). Traditionally, the local group corresponding to a village was the political kāinga, consisting of the people who lived together on the land of the same title holder (cf. §2.1.1). They lived scattered around on this territory which was marked off by a fence. However, around the time of the civil wars at the end of the 18th century, people moved to live together in protected villages (cf. Kennedy 1958: 162–165; Burley 1994: 406–407). The title holder was the political leader of his local group. Today, people still live together in villages where they share many facilities such as primary schools, churches, shops, a village ground, sports teams and a ­village hall (cf. §1.3.2). Every village still has a chief although only some of them hold nōpele titles, while the other chiefs are traditional ones without hereditary title and land. However, since the social and political changes of King Tāufa‘āhau Tupou I, the chiefs no longer personify the autonomous village governments. Their traditional function is now carried out by town officers (ofisa kolo) and district officers (ofisa fakavahe). In the village meetings (fono), they pass on decisions and recommendations of the government to the village people (cf. Bott 1981: 60; van der Grijp 1993: 21).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

3.3  The geography of the islands and the use of land and sea Most of the inhabited islands in Tonga are low coral islands while most of the few high volcanic islands are uninhabited. The the people on the volcanic islands of Niuatoputapu and Niuafo‘ou live with the danger of volcanic eruptions. However the soil is fertile on the volcanic islands. There are plantations on the ­volcanic island of Tofua although the island is uninhabited besides the few farmers ­currently staying there. On the low coral islands, most villages are situated close to the coast or lagoon as fish and seafood are an important part of the local diet. The villages are mainly on the sheltered side of the islands for protection, especially against hurricanes, or they are far enough inland to avoide this danger. Along raised coasts with cliffs falling down abruptly to the sea there are far less villages than on the coasts with easy access to lagoons. To enable access to the sea villages are often located at spots where gaps in the reef make the use of boats possible, even at low tide. At most other places only small canoes can get over the reef at high tide (cf. Kennedy 1958: 165–166). On islands not surrounded by a reef (especially volcanic islands), the rough sea can make it hard or even impossible for a boat to land. Land is a limited resource on small islands and is the most important means of production. Apart from fish and sea food, people live from food crops they grow on their plantations (tax allotments). These days most of the inland area of the inhabited low coral islands is covered with plantations due to the population density (cf. Burley 1994: 406). The best soils for agricultural purposes are clay loams (kelefatu) while the sandy soils (tou‘one) close to the sea are less fertile (cf. Maude 1973: 167). The main island of Tongatapu is a raised coral island with a nearly flat surface (260 km²) and only a few low hills and cliffs around the southern coast which are not higher than 65 metres. The land slopes northwest, and therefore the northern coast (including the inner lagoon) provides better access to the sea. The island is surrounded by a reef which is extremely close to the coast in the south (partly with cliffs falling straight down to the sea) but is about 12 kilometres offshore in the north. Within the big lagoon between the barrier reef and the island there are smaller islands of the Tongatapu group, with the exception of ‘Eueiki, which is surrounded by a separate reef outside the big lagoon (cf. Kennedy 1958: 166; Nunn 1998: 209–210). Like most low coral islands, Tongatapu has no permanent streams and rainwater is the only source of fresh water (cf. Orbell 1983: 9). Niutoua is one of the villages located at the northern shore of Tongatapu far to the east. At this spot the reef is very close to the coast, and consequently the lagoon is much smaller than at most of the other villages around the northern coast of Tongatapu where the majority of villages are located. As well as being



Chapter 3.  Land and the symbolic meaning of space 

smaller, there is no passage in the reef to the open sea. Therefore in Niutoua, neither traditional outrigger canoes nor modern boats are used for fishing, but there are net fishers and harpoon fishers, etc. who catch fish by walking through the lagoon (cf. §4.1.1). Most plantations of Niutoua are around the village area, especially towards the south of the village along the Hala Liku (lit. ‘cliff-bound road’) which is also called hala ‘uta (lit. ‘bush road’) by the people of Niutoua.

3.4  Land shortage and migration The most common way to get an allotment is by inheriting it. However, as the eldest son generally inherits the land of his father, his younger brothers usually do not have access to land by inheritance and have to apply officially for a vacant allotment. In order to do so they first approach the chief or town officer and once an allotment is available, and has been granted to them, it has to be approved by the Ministry of Lands and Survey (cf. Nayacakalou 1959: 102). Although the Land Act grants every male Tongan at the age of sixteen or older an allotment, land is a limited resource on the small islands of Tonga. Population increase led to land shortages, and consequently, the minister of lands does not have enough land to provide allotments according to the law. Maude’s investi­ gation on land shortage in Tonga (cf. 1973: 170–171) as well as the census of 1966 have already shown that not even 50% of the taxpayers had the tax allotment to which they were legally entitled. The situation has not improved since then and although a royal land commission reviewed the land tenure system in 1983–1985 (as a consequence of land shortages), the Land Act of 1882 with small changes and amendments is still valid today (cf. Fukofuka 1994: 145–148). Therefore there is still a discrepancy between the law and reality. In Niutoua, all village land (‘api kolo) had already been completely distributed in 1997/1998. Consequently Tāmale went to see the king as the owner of all land in Tonga and requested more village land. As there was still unused land in the area of the Ha‘amonga Trilithon, Niutoua was granted 46 new ‘api kolo by the king. They were first given to Tāmale, and then it was the town officer’s duty to distribute it fairly among the villagers legally applying for it. At the time of my first stay in Niutoua in 2002 these new village allotments had already been distributed. Today the only village land available consists of allotments without an heir which revert to the government. Land shortages have led to several developments and reactions. There is an internal migration movement away from the outer island towards Tongatapu and especially to the capital Nuku‘alofa. This movement is the result of the search for

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

employment or land for cash cropping, for education and other urban advantages. Migration is the main alternative to a subsistence economy which includes the agricultural work on one’s own tax allotment as a main component. For similar reasons, many Tongans migrate overseas, mainly to New Zealand, Australia and the United States.4 If all the Tongans living overseas came back to Tonga, the problem of land shortage would increase considerably although some still have registered allotments without living in the country.5 Family members without an allotment mostly use the land held by expatriates in the meantime or it is officially leased. However, landlessness is not the only reason for migration; there is also the desire to gain better educational or job opportunities (cf. Maude 1973: 169, 180; van der Grijp 1993: 193; Marcus 1993: 23). In areas with high population density, it is obviously harder to get a tax allotment. Furthermore, Maude (1973: 172–178) states that in such areas the cash crop incomes tends to be lower, the size of the tax allotments is often smaller and the agricultural practices are different. The fallow periods become shorter, chemical fertilisers are used to increase the yields and the food crop pattern has changed. Instead of the preferred yam (‘ufi) more and more manioc (manioke) is planted as it will grow on heavily-cropped soils and is less labour intensive. Other consequences of the land shortage are uxorilocality which is practised contrary to the norm of virilocatity if a man is more likely to get an allotment in his wife’s village than in his own (cf. §3.2). Those men who do not get their own tax allotment mostly cultivate an allotment with a relative (mostly the eldest brother) or a friend. They share the land usage (and the harvest) although the allotment legally belongs to the holder (cf. Nayacakalou 1959: 105; cf. §3.2).

3.5  The symbolic meaning of space Aspects of space and social structure are not only closely related to the system of land tenure but also to the symbolic structure of the formal kava circle which is an important part of several ceremonies. The most important social aspect of a kava circle is the visualisation of societal rank through spatial constellation (i.e. the

.  In Niutoua (cf. question 9 of the inquiry), the interviewees who had already left Tonga had been to these countries to visit relatives living there. .  Today probably more Polynesians live overseas than on the Pacifc islands itself (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 155). On the island of Niue the situation has already become quite dramatic as only about one third of the original population still lives there.



Chapter 3.  Land and the symbolic meaning of space 

seating order), the order of addressing the assembly at the beginning of a speech (i.e. speech preludes) and the order of serving kava. Kava is a common intoxicating beverage prepared from the root of the pepper plant ‘Piper methysticum’. It is given great importance throughout Polynesia (cf. Buck 1954: 307; Koch 1981: 194). In Tonga, the occasions of kava drinking range from informal meetings (cf. Feldman 1980) to the official kava ceremonies which are part of most ceremonial events (cf. §4.2). Most ceremonial events such as weddings and funerals involve changes in the social structure, and therefore the kava circle illustrates these changes. This can best be observed at big events within the royal family (such as a king’s funeral) which include the royal kava circle. The new king is seated within the circle according to his new societal rank and in relation to all the other participants. Apart from the seating order in a kava circle, there are quite a few other occasions at which certain spots or areas are associated with special social positions (cf. also §6.5). At ceremonial occasions therefore the mehekitanga mostly occupies a special place. Although the seating order is at its most formal at ceremonial occasions (especially at kava ceremonies), the social structure is also spatially expressed at fono meetings, feasts and in church. 3.5.1  Seating order in a kava circle The seating order of the royal kava circle (or formerly the kava circle of the Tu‘i Tonga) demonstrates the different ranks of the various title holders (see ha‘a ranking) as only entitled Tongans of a higher societal rank participate in this kava circle.6 Ferdon (cf. 1987:  58) mentions with regard to the earlier Tu‘i Tonga circle that the closer a title holder was seated to the Tu‘i Tonga (sitting opposite the kava bowl), the higher was his rank. However, the seating was not completely strict as slight differences in rank were not always integrated into the seating order, in contrast to greater differences in rank which were, because ultimately it was the order of serving the kava that showed respect according to rank. With the changes of the societal structure during the time of the King Taufā‘āhau Tupou I, the Tu‘i Kanokupolu’s kava circle was rearranged in order to accommodate the titles of the other two Tu‘i lines: Tu‘i Tonga and Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua (cf. Bott 1981: 31). In the royal kava circle, the Tu‘i Kanokupolu (that is at present King Tāufa‘āhau Tupou IV and before him Queen Sālote) as the highest ranked title holder within Tonga sits at one end of the oval ring, opposite the kava .  The royal kava circle is called taumafa kava, while ‘ilo kava describes the kava circle of a chief. Literally, both mean ‘drinking kava’ but taumafa and ‘ilo are honorific terms used to refer to the king or a chief respectively (cf. Chapter 8 for a detailed description).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

bowl (­kumete or tanoa) which is placed at the other end. The two royal matāpule Lauaki and Motu‘apuaka sit next to the king, Lauaki to his left and Motu‘apuaka to his right. Nōpele Nuku is placed next to Lauaki and nōpele Niukapu next to Motu‘apuaka, each followed by his matāpule. Tu‘i Kanokupolu, Niukapu and Nuku who are called ‘Ulutolu (lit. ‘three-head’) are all descendants in parallel lines from the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua (cf. Collocott 1927: 24). The kava circle consisting of chiefs and matāpule is called alofi. It is generally structured in a way that each chiefly title holder has his matāpule sitting beside him so that two chiefs never sit next to each other. Each matāpule sits on the side of his chief that is pointing away from the Tu‘i Kanokupolu (cf. Collocott 1927: 24; Gifford 1929: 157, 168). The nōpele Ma‘afu, Vaha‘i, Ve‘ehala, Ata and two further title holders occupy special places in a part of the kava circle called fasi. Ma‘afu and Ve‘ehala sit at the section called fasi alofi, Ma‘afu at the right side of the circle and Ve‘ehala at the left. The section besides them towards the kava bowl is called fasi tapu; this is the place of Ata on the left and Vaha‘i on the right side. The third section (called fasi toua) where the other two title holders are seated is the one closest to the kava bowl (cf. Collocott 1927: 25, 29–30). Ata as the pule ‘a e kava (lit. ‘governor of the kava’) supervises this strictly defined seating order of the royal kava circle and checks that every participant is sitting in the correct place (cf. Gifford 1929: 166). Generally, the chiefs of the Ha‘a Ngata can be regarded as the guardians of the kava (cf. Bott 1982: 131, 124). Behind the kava bowl outside the circle is a place (i.e. an exterior segment) called toua where Vaea sits together with inferior chiefs (that is titles of younger brothers) of the Ha‘a Lātūhifo and Ha‘a Vaea. ‘Ulukālala (i.e. the Ha‘a Ngata Tupu) is also not present in the kava circle but guards the kava making for the king from behind the toua (cf. Collocott 1927: 25–26; Gifford 1929: 95; Bott 1982: 134). Figure 3.1 shows Gifford’s illustration (cf. 1929: 96) of the seating order of the Tu‘i Kanokupolu’s kava circle during the traditional ceremonies of Queen Sālote’s ­installation as Tu‘i Kanokupolu.7 As the title succession is generally ­patrilineal,

.  Bain (cf. 1954: 37) has published a slightly deviating seating order of the kava circle of Queen Sālote’s installation, but Wood-Ellem (cf. 1999: 328) argues that this was not the kava circle of the installation in 1918: firstly, Queen Sālote confirmed Gifford’s version, and secondly, Bain’s version contains Tuoputo‘a, a title which had not been created at that time, and Tu‘ipelehake, a title which was vacant between 1912 and 1945. Thus, Bain’s version may have been a royal kava circle after 1945. Gifford himself (cf. 1929:  167) also mentions a problematic participant occurring in his version: the title of Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua. This was impossible as the title had already become defunct and as well as that, a Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua could never have sat in the Tu‘i Kanokupolu’s

Chapter 3.  Land and the symbolic meaning of space 

M M a‘af K atā u T lofi Ka anok pul uk M nok upoe uiau a‘a up lu fu o c lahi (T lu c hie ak h f ( in ief To im (F vi a? ao ?) ) a? )

ala ‘eh ule Ve atāp ō na M aluppulenga M atā ‘a le M ‘ihaāpu Tu at M

u itap Fas

lofi

T M u‘ T at iha M u‘ila āpu ‘ate Fo atā ke le iho Ma he pul pa Fie tāpu e Ma lakep le Lav tāpulea a Matāpka Tu‘iva ule Matāpukanō Nuku le Lauaki (kava matāpule) Tu‘i Kanokupolu (president) Motu‘apuaka (kava matāpule) Niukapu Matāpule Luani le u Matāp a Ahioāpule kalau Mat Ha‘atlea Tu‘i tāpu Ma ofili ule Fot tāp Ma a‘atu pule no M atā ao le M lek āpu Fa at M

Fa sia

sia Fa



At a

ai Vah

Fa sit

Lat uke

tafu uháa Ngal a u o Fasit otu Mom

fu

Kap uka va

Kava Bowl Assistant

Assistant Kava Mixer Assistants and Kava Chewers Vaea and Tolo (Chiefs behind the bowl) The People

‘Ulukālala

Figure 3.1.  Kava circle of the Tu‘i Kanokupolu

Tungī (the Prince Consort)

Fas itou a

ap u

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

women do not normally participate at kava circles other than at their own ­marriages. Queen Sālote is until today one of the few women (after ­Tupoumoheofo) to hold the title, and thus, she drank kava as the head of the Tu‘i Kanokupolu’s kava circle (cf. Gifford 1929: 93–95, 157). Such a kava ceremony is performed for the succession of every new title holder. He is installed by being seated in the kava circle and his new title is spoken when he receives his cup of kava (cf. Collocott 1927: 38), and so by these means his new rank is officially visualised. At the beginning of a royal kava circle, food and kava presentations are arranged in front of the king. After that Motu‘apuaka says which kind of kava should be brought and put in front of the kava mixer (ngahikava). He has two assistants (angaikava) sitting next to him, one at each side. The kava roots are then crushed with a stone on a stone anvil. The angaikava collect the pulverised kava and put it in the four-legged kava bowl which is placed in front of the kava mixer with the taunga (a piece of the bowl with a hole and a cord to hang it on when not in use) facing towards the kava mixer. Then, water is added and the ngahikava mixes the water and the pulverised kava with a series of graceful hand and arm movements and finally filters the kava with a fibre of fau (hibiscus). While the kava is being prepared, the food presentations are distributed among the title holders according to their rank and then fahu members of their respective kāinga (that is those of a higher social status) come and take it.8 This is the gift exchange component (cf. §4.2.2). At the same time, speeches are made which must start by addressing the assembly in the order of rank (speech preludes; cf. §2.2.3). Finally, the kava is served in strict order that is called out by the royal matāpule Motu‘apuaka.

kava circle because of his higher rank. Therefore Gifford assumes that it probably means a chief of the Ha‘a Takalaua, such as Luani and Fotofili. The place of Tungī outside the kava circle at this event was a sign of respect towards the Tu‘i Kanokupolu (that is Queen Sālote) who was his wife (cf. Gifford 1929: 168, 95). Today, King Tāufa‘āhau Tupou IV holds the title of Tungī and also that of Tu‘i Kanokupolu as he is the son of Queen Sālote and Tungī (cf. Taulahi 1979: 5–6). All these remarks demonstrate different reasons for slight changes in the royal kava circle at different times: firstly, a person may hold more than one title, secondly, a title may be vacant, and thirdly, certain kin relations between title holders may be respected. Moreover, permanent changes may occur, such as Tu‘ipelehake is now in Niukapu’s place and Niukapu occupies the next chiefly place to the right (cf. Bott 1982:  116). However, changes of societal power are mostly integrated in the seating order with much delay, and thus the kava circle is the ­visualisation of the power distribution in former times (cf. Helu 1999: 21–22). .  The title holder’s own children are not allowed to eat it as it is taboo for them to eat their father’s food (cf. §2.1.3). The kai fono (lit. ‘fono eaters’) are those who have the right to eat this food, that is the title holder’s mehekitanga and her children (cf. Collocott 1927: 30).



Chapter 3.  Land and the symbolic meaning of space 

One after the other, people from the toua come forward each with a coconut cup and stand next to the kava bowl. Once the ngahikava has filtered kava into the cup, an angaikava calls out ‘Kava kuo heka’ (lit. ‘the kava is taken up’). The royal matāpule answers ‘Ave ia ma‘a …’ (lit. ‘take it for …’) adding the name of the title who gets the cup. The first cup is for Lauaki, the second for Niukapu and the third cup which is announced differently (‘Omi ia ki heni ma‘a …’, lit. ‘bring it here for …’) always goes to the Tu‘i Kanokupolu. In my opinion, this spatial instruction obviously shows that the royal matāpule speaks on behalf of the Tu‘i Kanokupolu as heni describes the place of the speaker. The different announcements therefore demonstrate that the Tu‘i Kanokupolu is the spatial centre of the kava circle. The further cups are then alternately served to the participants on both sides of the circle according to their rank.9 Finally, after the royal matāpule has received a cup for himself, the two angaikava also get a cup each and the final one is for the ngahikava (cf. Collocott 1927: 26–36; Gifford 1929: 163–164, 160). While serving the kava, the servant is not allowed to turn his back to the king. In summary, in the royal kava circle the societal hierarchy is visualised in various ways. Royal and chiefly rank is not only indicated by the seating order but also by the order of serving the kava, the flow of gifts, and the order of addressing the audience in speech preludes. Besides the royal kava circle, there are many different kava circles: those of the various chiefs10 and those which are part of different social events such as marriages and funerals. In a chief ’s kava circle, the chief is seated in the ‘front’ place opposite the kava bowl. He occupies this place as he is the person of highest societal rank on the village level. These kava circles are not only held by nōpele but they are still common for traditional chiefs as well (cf. Bott 1981: 31–32). Tāmale, the chief of Niutoua, once had a seat in the kava circle (‘alofi) of the Tu‘i Tonga as the original title holder was a son of an early Tu‘i Tonga (cf. Collocott 1927: 42–43; Bott 1982: 103–104). However, today Tāmale is not represented in the royal kava circle although one of his matāpule participates as Makafeo, the matāpule of nōpele Nuku (cf. §1.3.2). This is an unusual situation because within the village Tāmale has the highest societal status. This becomes evident in his own kava circle in ­Niutoua in which he occupies the ‘front’ seat opposite the kava bowl and receives the first cup of kava. His two matāpule sit next to him, Fainga‘a to his left and ­Tofavaha to his right. Apart from these fixed places, the seating order is relatively free but there

.  Here, the various accounts also show slight differences of the serving order just as with the seating order (cf. Note 7). .  Pratt (1922) describes a kava circle in the village of Ha‘alaufuli (Vava‘u) which was held for him and another reverend whose guest he was.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

is a tendency for other special villagers (such as town officers, ­ministers/priests and older men) to sit within the circle more towards the ‘front’. If Tāmale is not present at a village kava circle, his place is left empty or Malakai or Niuila could represent him in this position (cf. §1.3.2). A kava circle is also part of a traditional wedding ceremony which is one of the few events when a Tongan woman drinks kava and the only one where a female commoner occupies the ‘front’ position. This honour of sitting ‘in front’ is reserved to virgin brides only (‘Aisea Hingano: personal communication, 27.8.2007). At the wedding of ‘Ungatea Fonua and Laiseni Kata in Niutoua (19.12.2002), the bride sat in the ‘front’ place opposite the kava bowl. She received the first cup of kava served by the groom who was seated behind the kava bowl.11 They both sat on the lap of a tu‘a relative (that is in a raised position, just as the king is normally the only person within the royal kava circle sitting on a chair with mats and tapa underneath). Besides the married couple, only guests of high social status (including chiefs and old men) participated in this kava circle while the other guests just watched. For the audience it was tapu to sit on the benches around the kava circle (set up for the following feast) because nobody was allowed to sit higher than the high ranked participants in the kava circle who were sitting on the ground. 3.5.2  Seating order and spatial symbols for special rank or status So far, the seating order of kava circles has shown that seating locations in ‘front’ and ‘elevated’ positions are spatial symbols to honour the highest ranked or most prominent person of an event. As the participation in the kava circle is generally restricted to people of special social position, even being ‘inside’ the ‘alofi is a privilege and thus a spatial metaphor. Accordingly, people of lower rank and status are associated with seating locations in the ‘back’ or even ‘outside’ the ‘alofi. Apart from the kava circles, the spatial symbolism of ‘front’ versus ‘back’, ‘high’ versus ‘low’ and ‘inside’ versus ‘outside’ applied to different social positions is also found in various other contexts, such as the seating arrangements at feasts, in church, at funerals and weddings, and at fono meetings, etc. On special occasions, such as weddings and funerals, the mehekitanga (the person with the highest status towards the ego of the event) is generally honoured with a special place. At funerals a fahu person sits, for example, next to the deceased’s head, a place of honour as the head (that is the ‘upper part’ of the body)

.  In Gifford’s description (cf. 1929: 193) of a wedding kava circle, the groom presides over the kava circle, that is sits in the ‘front’ place, with the bride seated next to him. According to ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 27.8.2007), the custom that the bride sits ‘in front’ was introduced by Queen Sālote.



Chapter 3.  Land and the symbolic meaning of space 

is considered the most sacred part of a person (cf. Douaire-Marsaudon 1996:  149–150). This is also expressed by the tapu to touch the head of honourable ­people (cf. §2.1.3). The liongi (that is the most tu‘a relatives of the deceased) instead get their hair cut (cf. Morton 1996: 128). This extreme way of ‘touching’ their head is an expression of degradation and a way to show deference to the deceased. Apart from the fahu, the women of the father’s side (that is ‘eiki relatives) are associated with an ‘inner’ area as they enter the deceased’s house, while the liongi stay ‘outside’, preparing food for the family and the guests (cf. Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 149). The term tu‘a itself means ‘outside’ and ‘back’ or ‘not in front’ (cf. §6.3 and §6.4.3.1) and thus describes people of lower rank and status according to their spatial location (cf. Morton 1996: 25). At the funeral of the German consul (a Tongan), I observed another instance of spatial symbolism for social position. Many pālangi (white people) as well as high ranked Tongans were present during the burial at the cemetery (5.10.2002). All the guests were sitting and standing around while speeches were made and the deceased was buried wrapped in tapa. There was a small low wall upon which several pālangi unknowingly seated themselves but they were asked to sit on the ground. The reason was that high ranked Tongans were sitting on a small sandy mound behind the wall and nobody was supposed to sit ‘higher’ than them. In contrast to the seating order of kava circles (especially the royal one) and the spatial arrangements of funerals, the seating order in other contexts is not quite as fixed. However, there are special sitting arrangements in churches, at feasts or at fono meetings (cf. ‘Ungatea Fonua Kata: personal communication, 28.1.2003). At feasts or fono meetings in Niutoua, Tāmale sits ‘up front’, facing the other participants (cf. §6.5). At fono meetings, he occupies this position together with the town officer and the district officer, and at feasts, he sits together with other important people of the event and the village at the ‘front table’. If the feast is organised in the hall of the Free Wesleyan Church, the ‘front table’ is even placed on a kind of stage, that is ‘higher’ than the other tables. Bott (cf. 1981: 71) describes an equivalent seating order for feasts which are part of civic events. There the sovereign (i.e. Queen Sālote) was seated at the ‘front or head table’ together with other important people of society at the event, such as cabinet ministers and/or heads of the leading churches. The fact that the nōpele were seated at other tables demonstrates that the seating order of the feast primarily honoured modern personages (in contrast to the seating order of the kava circle). During the feast of ‘Ungatea’s and Laiseni’s wedding (cf. §3.5.1), the most prominent people of this special occasion were sitting at or at least towards the ‘head table’. With the exception of the wedding couple, these were guests of high rank (such as nōpele and other hou‘eiki as well as government officials) and ‘eiki relatives of bride and groom.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

In the Free Wesleyan Church in Niutoua, the chief Tāmale and his wife have special seats right ‘in front’, to the left of the pulpit. They have their own entrance and are seated in a lateral position so that the congregation cannot sit ‘behind the chief ’s back’. The minister and his wife sit on the opposite side of the pulpit, also facing it. Apart from them, about six older men and women are respected by sitting at both sides towards the front with the children in between (men/boys on the left and women/girls on the right). The rest of the congregation (that is men, women and the choir) sits in rows on both sides but there is a separation according to sex and a tendency for unmarried, younger women or men to sit more towards the front. Even on the ‘Happy Day’ in Niutoua (cf. §1.3.2), Tāmale leads the marching villagers, followed by his matāpule, the town officer and the minister of the Free Wesleyan Church, who are the most prominent commoners of Niutoua.

chapter 4

Possession and gift exchange The inheritance and ownership of titles and land have already been presented in the previous chapters. However, I will briefly summarise the most important aspects from the point of view of having access to and control over land, titles and other property (such as tributes or other payments) associated with titles. Traditionally, the commoners gained access to land through the chiefly title holders to whom they paid tribute with gifts of food, manpower and other valuable items in return. The reforms of King George Tāufa‘āhau Tupou I freed the commoners from these obligations to the chiefs because after these reforms every male Tongan was entitled by law to receive his own piece of land. When taxes and rent are paid to register and legally hold the allotment, a chief cannot dispossess the holder or the succeeding heir. The tribute in return for land has thus been replaced by taxes and rent. With the introduction of this new land tenure system the chiefly title holders have been made more dependent on the king as they are now paid by the government (headed by the king). Until 1915 the Ministry of Lands officially administrated all land grants including those on nōpele estates. After that date title holders gained the right to be consulted about grants on their estates (cf. Fukofuka 1994: 146). However in practice commoners could not be registered an allotment without the consent of the estate holder because of their lower societal status. Other traditional chiefs who were not appointed to official hereditary titles (i.e. nōpele titles) did not even get their hereditary land and thus legally lost their privileged access to land. Finally, no one holding land is allowed to sell it (or even lease it without government approval) as all land ultimately belongs to the king at the apex of Tongan society. These reforms were a complete reorganisation of societal status and power, and it is in this context that access and possession of land was restructured. However, in practice, it was more a gradual change from the traditional to the new system rather than a sudden transformation (cf. Evans 2001: 50). According to Godelier (cf. 1984:  104), property is a combination of access, control, use and transfer of an object. Concerning the property of land, we have so far analysed the access, control and transfer of land. In the following sections the use of land, its products and the properties of other valued items will be embedded in a wider economic context. This provides information about how these items

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

were produced and what they were used for, including their social value in gift exchange processes.

4.1  The economy Traditionally, Tonga had a subsistence and gift economy which was based on ­kinship (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 4). The main social unit of production and consumption was the fa‘ahinga (cf. §2.1.1) and gifts were distributed within this group and to the heads of larger social units of which the fa‘ahinga was a part, such as the title holder or finally the Tu‘i Tonga (cf. §4.2.2). Today there is a combination of capitalistic elements in the Tongan economy, such as commodity production (cash crops), wage labour, private ownership and the use of money, but the traditional elements of subsistence and gift economy are still present. Contemporary Tongan economy is therefore a mixture of traditional and capitalistic elements (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 4–5; Marcus 1993). The main social unit of production and consumption is now the household, which means that it has shifted from the fa‘ahinga towards a smaller social unit. In Tonga most people work in the agricultural or fishing sector, the two main fields of subsistence.1 Although some of these products are sold in local or export markets, the bulk of production is still intended for personal use by the family or for gift exchange.2 Their diet consists mainly of the local crops, livestock and seafood. Not all agricultural products are used for food. Several are also important for the production of wealth items or items used in daily life. Although these items and most food comes from the people’s own land and labour (which are still the main resources), products are purchased from the small stores within the villages or the bigger shops and markets in the regional centres (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 17; Evans 2001: 75). Other manufactured goods such as fridges, televisions or construction materials are mostly sent by Tongan relatives who live and work overseas (remittances; cf. §4.3). In the regional centres and especially around the capital of Nuku‘alofa, many people are employed in waged labour. Some have government jobs, others have

.  According to the government census of 1996 (xxxii), 54.4% of the economically active population were engaged in farming, fishing and producing handicrafts. .  According to the government census of 1996 (xxxii), 58.5% of the people engaged in farming only produced for their own use, 34.5% occasionally sold products, and only 7% regularly sold their products. For fishing and the production of handicrafts similar percentages have been determined.



Chapter 4.  Possession and gift exchange 

jobs in small scale industries or in tourism. As these jobs are good sources of income there is an internal migration movement from the outer islands towards the regional centres and especially towards the main island of Tongatapu (cf. Evans 2001: 20, 79). In Tonga, the division of different kinds of labour as well as its products are gender-specific.3 While agriculture and fishing are done by men, typical women’s work involves collecting shellfish within the lagoon and the production of tapa (barkcloth), mats and baskets. The goods made by women (that is mats, tapa and other female wealth items) are called koloa (lit. ‘wealth, treasures’), while ngāue (lit. ‘work’) describes goods produced by men, such as food. Besides a healthy life, a strong faith, a good education, family, house and land, and modern wealth items (such as a car or money), these traditional gender-based work products were highly valued by the interviewees in Niutoua (cf. questions 26 to 28 of the inquiry). However, some traditional wealth items have higher value than others as the f­ ollowing sections will show. 4.1.1  Agriculture, livestock and fishing The agricultural products are mainly root crops consisting of yam (‘ufi), alocasia or giant taro (kape), taro (talo), manioc (manioke) and sweet potato (kumala), of which different kinds are distinguished. Of these main crops probably only sweet potato and manioc have been introduced since the first contact and yam is the crop with the highest value (for example, a basket of yams at the market costs much more than a comparable basket of the other crops; besides big yams are important for ceremonial use). The plantations of root crops are cultivated under coconut palms (niu), which are scattered all over tax allotments and several other trees such as mango (mango) and bread fruit (mei) trees that give shade and ­protect the crops. The coconut palm is a very important plant as its different parts have various functions, for example, as food, drink, construction material, baskets, cups, brooms, kupesi (the pattern for printing tapa), kafa (the rope to fix the mat around the waist), certain kiekie (like a belt with strands hanging down from it), and so on. Other crops on or beside the plantations are banana palms (different kinds: siaine,

.  I would not call it a sexual division of labour, as for instance van der Grijp (1993:  51) does, because the fakaleitī (lit. ‘like a woman’) are sexually males but they act and behave like women. They spend most of the time with women (in spite of the brother-sister tapu) and do the gender-specific work of women (cf. Morton 1996: 110; own observations, 19.4.2003). Some of them even dress like women; however, not every boy who dresses like a girl is a fakaleitī (cf. Besnier 1997: 11–12; Heinemann 1998).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

pata and hopa), papaya (lesi), pineapple (fainā), lemon/orange (moli), sugar cane (to), kava (kava tonga), greens (pele), corn (koane) and various vegetables. Besides plants that are mainly used for consumption, there are other plants which do not supply food but are important for the production of koloa, such as pandanus (fa), paper mulberry (hiapo), hibiscus (fau), koka and candlenut (tuitui). Flowers are used in various ways: together with candlenut as soap, added to coconut oil as body oil and together with leaves and seeds to make necklaces (kahoa). Certain trees (such as the nonu) are also used for making traditional medicines (cf. Whistler 1992) and some are used for the construction of houses or certain parts of it, such as traditionally weaved coconut leaves (pola) for walls and the roof. Some introduced plants have become quite important as cash crops, such as vanilla (vanila) and pumpkin (hina). Besides copra oil (which is becoming less and less important), bananas and watermelons, these introduced crops are the main export products which are shipped to New Zealand, Australia, the United States and Japan. Only the top-quality cash crops are exported while the low-quality ones are sold in the local markets. However, export is problematic as it depends on natural circumstances (for example, a whole vanilla harvest may be destroyed by a cyclone) and the bigger markets with which Tonga cannot possibly compete (for example, the artificial vanilla production in the United States and Europe). Normally only a part of the tax allotment is cultivated with plantations while the rest lies fallow to allow the humus of the wild vegetation fertilise the soil. However, during the last decades, the fallow periods have become shorter and the use of artificial fertilisers have led to more intensive farming (cf. §3.4). After a fallow period, the wild vegetation (mostly long grasses) is cleared by hacking it away, burning it or ploughing the soil. The equipment used in the agricultural process is traditionally a wooden digging stick but now a kind of iron hoe or spade (huo) for weeding and light digging, a machete (helepelu or helelahi) for cutting and a rake (huo langa) for loosing the soil are common. On Tongatapu and Vava‘u, people can now even rent tractors from the Department of Agriculture to plough or dig deep holes for planting yams. However, most private people cannot afford it, and if they use the tractor, it takes time to drive it around the coconut palms (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 26–28, 32–37; own observations). Tongans only raise a few domestic animals. The most important ones are pigs (puaka) and chickens (moa). Few Tongans have horses (hoosi), cows (pulu) or goats (kosi) which occur in much smaller numbers. Horses and cows were introduced with the first European contact. All these animals are kept for meat and not for milk or eggs. Pork is significant as ceremonial food (like yams). In this context, it has a higher value than the meat of chickens, horses and cattle and it is only prepared for ceremonies and feasts. Goats are generally less valuable and they are only eaten at less important occasions. Horses are not only kept for meat but they serve



Chapter 4.  Possession and gift exchange 

as means of transportation and traction. In Tonga raising and keeping animals is still done in the traditional way, in a small-scale and non-commercial context. Most households also have at least one dog (kuli) to protect the house and guard the pigs, and a cat (pusi) to catch rats and mice around the house. Furthermore, people still eat dogs, and if a cat eats too many small chickens, it is chased away or killed. Pigs, chicken, dogs and cats walk around freely in the villages while horses, cattle and goats are attached with a rope to trees on fallow land either in the bush or in the village area. On smaller islands, there are fences around the villages to keep the animals (especially the pigs) from ravaging the plantations. For this reason and because of disputes about the ownership of those free-range animals, the law dictates that pigs must be enclosed. However, in practice most of them walk around freely and most town allotments or houses are fenced in order to keep the pigs outside the gardens and houses. Dogs and pigs are fed with coconut flesh, papaya and kitchen leftovers (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 43–50; Evans 2001: 77; own observations). In Tonga two kinds of work to gather seafood are distinguished: while men catch all kinds of fish (‘ika) in the open sea as well as inside the lagoon, women (and their children) collect shellfish and seaweed (fingota) within the lagoon at low tide. Only squids and turtles may be caught by both men and women. In contrast to meat which is mainly eaten at ceremonial occasions, fish, shellfish and other seafood are important supplements of the daily diet. Not all men have the knowledge and the skills required for fishing, and only a few men are specialised in fishing as a main occupation. Most men go fishing in addition to their agricultural work on a subsistence basis and do not completely depend on fishing. Most fishermen are found in the areas where there are no tax allotments for agriculture (such as in Nuku‘alofa). Although today there is a commercial fishery in Tonga, compared to Southeast Asian commercial fishing they lack specialised equipment for deep sea fishing. There are various fishing methods, such as harpoon fishing, net fishing and day fishing etc. Depending on the method there are several other factors that may vary, such as the kind of fishing equipment used, the fishing locations, the time of fishing and the size of the group of men fishing together. The traditional ­fishing gear was comprised of nets and fishing lines made of coconut and hibiscus fibre, bone hooks, fish barriers made of bamboo and coconut palm leaves, torches of the floral sheath of the coconut palm for night fishing and outrigger canoes (popao). Most of this equipment has been replaced today by modern products such as lines and nets made of nylon, steel hooks, oil lamps, metal harpoons and small wooden boats with outboard motors. However, the traditional equipment is still in use, especially if the people cannot afford the modern variants (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 51–59; Bataille-Benguigui 1994: 101–172).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

On the cliff-bound coasts (liku) the access for boats is much more difficult if not impossible so that most fishing activities and all the collecting of shellfish are generally done on the island sides with large lagoons (cf. §3.3; cf. Evans 2001: 76). For most Niutouan households, agriculture is an important economic factor. Single men or small work groups of household members or friends cultivate products for their own consumption and for sale at the market. In 2005, there were also four kautaha (larger working groups) whose members were paid for their work on the plantations. In contrast to agriculture, fishing is not an important source of employment or income as in Niutoua only a few fishermen make a living from this activity.4 However, a lot of villagers have a net or a spear and also occasionally go fishing within the lagoon (cf. §3.3), especially during the vete season (October to March). Vete is a small fish (orfe) which is traditionally caught in Niutoua (cf. ­Bataille-Benguigui 1994:  219–229). There are special spots within the lagoon where the fishermen have to stand with their nets to catch the vete, however, this only works if the chief Tāmale does not go to the beach during the vete season. In 2003, hardly any vete could be caught. The villagers gave a further reason for this failure: there had been too many funerals within the village at that time. It is also tapu to sell this special fish; vete is a gift and cannot be regarded as a commodity (cf. §4.2.2). If one of all the tapu around vete is broken, it is considered impossible to catch the fish any more until Tāmale is asked for forgiveness and undoes the violation of tapu (‘Eseta Lolomana‘ia, Tāmale’s wife: personal communication, 25.11.2002 and 21.7.2007). 4.1.2  Production and use of koloa There are different kinds of material culture or handicraft which have traditionally been important in the Tongan society and which are also gender-specific. Women make koloa (such as tapa, mats and baskets) while wood carvings and ornaments (including rafter lashings which are now rare) are typically men’s work. Tapa and mats are still mainly produced for ceremonial purposes involving gift exchange (cf. §4.2), and household use. However, baskets and wood carvings which were traditionally important for the subsistence economy, are produced as commodities today, for they are sold for money to tourists in local as well as overseas markets (such as Hawaii). A lot of these products (such as the carving of certain god figures) are not traditional designs anymore, although they may be produced with traditional techniques (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 60–61; Crowe 1994; van der Grijp 1995). .  Those fishermen who own a boat moor it in the nearby villages ‘Afā or Kolonga where the lagoon is bigger. The geography of Niutoua makes it impossible to use boats (cf. §3.3).



Chapter 4.  Possession and gift exchange 

Tapa is made from the inner bark of the paper mulberry tree (hiapo) in three main steps. Firstly, the two layers of bark are cut at full length and then stripped off the stick. The outer bark is then removed from the inner one. This first semimanufactured product (called tutu) is rolled up and dried in the sun. Secondly, the tutu are soaked in water and then beaten with a wooden mallet (ike) on a flexibly mounted half log anvil (tutua) to flatten and soften the fibre. Two tutu finally result in one soft feta‘aki, the second semi-manufactured product. For the next step in the process women join koka‘anga groups to glue the feta‘aki together with manioc (two layers with opposite directions of the fibre to make it tearproof) and to paint the tapa. It is in fact a printing process in which the tapa is laid on a table with kupesi (printing plates made of parts of the coconut palm) and about five to six women on each side of the table rub koka (brown) or tongo (red) colour onto it until the pattern becomes visible. Finally, the big tapa (average size: 4 × 25 m) dries in the sun before the pattern is painted over with black colour and the background with red or brown. Depending on the size, colour and design, there are two different kinds of tapa: ngatu and fuatanga. The primary lines of a ngatu “run crosswise and intersect with a set of long lines that run the entire length”, while those of a fuatanga “run lengthwise and intersect with a series of crosswise lines that measure its size” (Kaeppler 1989:  219). Apart from that, the two kinds of tapa are used by different social groups: ngatu occur mainly in ­ceremonies of commoners and fuatanga in ceremonies of chiefs. Traditionally, tapa was used as clothing, curtains, sheets and blankets. Today these have been replaced by imported textiles but tapa is still used as clothing at special events such as for the wedding couple, as dancing dress and to wrap the corpse at burials. Moreover, it is very important in gift exchange processes (cf. James 1988; Robertson 1989: 12–15; van der Grijp 1993: 61–63; Arbeit 1994: 2–3, 16–23; own observations). In contrast to tapa which is for ecological reasons mainly produced in ­Tongatapu and Vava‘u, people in Ha‘apai make mats. Since in Niutoua a few women originated from Ha‘apai, they are skilled in weaving fine mats. However, many more women in the village make tapa. In November 2004, there were five koka‘anga groups (tapa painting) and two lālanga groups (weaving). There are a lot of different kinds of mats which are used for various purposes. Most mats are made of leaves of different pandanus trees (lou‘akau). When the leaves have the right length, they are cut off and the sharp teeth along the edges and the midrib are removed. Then the leaves are boiled and dried; to bleach them, they are put in salty sea water and then dried in the sun, while a dark colour is ­produced by boiling the leaves in liquids from various roots, barks or leaves and then dried in a dark place. The dried leaves are then softened and straightened by drawing a sharp piece of tin down the length, and finally they are split ­lengthwise to get strips

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

of appropriate width for weaving. All the mats (besides pola and ta‘ovala) are generally woven by groups of about three to six women. The various kinds of mats are used for different purposes and their value depends on their size, material, colour and decoration, the width of the strips and the amount of layers. The most basic mat is the papa which is made of lou pāongo pandanus and is used as a floor mat for sitting on. The more valuable lōtaha (lit. ‘one layer’) which is made of lou tofua pandanus and is decorated with woollen colourful fringes on two sides is also a floor mat. It is used for sleeping or sitting on and it is mostly put on top of a papa. The different kinds of fala have an even higher value. While the fala tutu‘ila (made of tutu‘ila leaves) has the same function as the lōtaha, the fala tofua and fala pāongo serve as middle or upper mats of a bed and as gifts at weddings and funerals. The fala tofua is made of lou tofua pandanus which is woven in two layers (in contrast to the lōtaha) and the fala pāongo consists of narrow strips of lou pāongo pandanus (narrower strips than for papa). The fala are often decorated with colourful woollen fringes around all four sides. The most valuable mats which are part of the women’s koloa are light ornamental mats (fala fihu) and especially the kie Tonga. They are both made of lou kie pandanus and function as gifts at special occasions (cf. §4.2) or as clothing for the wedding couple (ta‘ovala mali). Other weavings are the small mats that men and women wear around their waist (ta‘ovala) as a sign of respect (just like the kiekie which is only worn by women). The ta‘ovala and kiekie are worn to church on Sundays, to office jobs, to see a person of higher rank and on ceremonial occasions. There are special ta‘ovala for weddings and funerals which even show the status of the person wearing it towards the ego of the event. Decorated ta‘ovala kie are worn as a sign of respect by lower ranked relatives of the wedding couple. At funerals everybody wears simple or dirty mats (ta‘ovala putu) and black clothes as a sign of mourning. If the person has higher status towards the deceased, it is a low ta‘ovala putu, and if he/she is of lower status (depending on the tu‘a-degree), it is a high one. Besides all these kinds of mats, women weave bags, fans and other products. The only weavings which can also be done by men are pola, woven fresh coconut palm leaves. They are used for walls and roofs of traditional houses, to sit on in the garden (for example, at a funeral) and as food baskets (cf. James 1988; van der Grijp 1993: 63–65, 170; own observations). All semi-manufactured products (that is bunches of tutu, feta‘aki and pandanus leave strips) as well as the final products (that is tapa and mats) are sold in the local markets. People who need a tapa or a mat but do not have the time or knowledge to completely produce it themselves either ask friends or relatives for help, exchange it or have to buy it. However, most of the women have their own tapa and mats and they keep these koloa under their beds. In Niutoua, women meet once a year to present their best koloa at the hall of the Free Wesleyan Church. This event (‘a‘ahi) motivates all women to produce or



Chapter 4.  Possession and gift exchange 

at least to have koloa of different kinds because every year other kinds of koloa are presented (for example, fala, kie Tonga and ngatu in 2004). Women are respected for their valuable and beautiful koloa and their skills in the production. The use of mats and tapa in Tonga still shows that “traditional art reflects and reinforces social status and societal rank” (van der Grijp 1993: 60). Thus, social status and societal rank become visible by the movement and kind of koloa and food in gift exchange processes and the exchange reinforces the social relationship of the exchange partners (cf. §4.2). Apart from that, wearing a ta‘ovala or kiekie is a sign of respect and special kinds of ta‘ovala even express social relationships (for example, a high ta‘ovala putu that a close relative of higher status has died). Finally, even the symbolic meaning of certain tapa pattern (for example, chiefly pattern) or the way a certain koloa is used (for example, ta‘ovala kie were traditionally only worn by chiefs) may reflect societal rank.

4.2  Gift exchange The distinction between ‘gift’ and ‘commodity’ which is important to understand the concept of gift exchange derives from the approach of Mauss (1990). Based on his work, Evans (2001: 21) defines the distinction between ‘gift’ and ‘commodity’ in the following way: A gift, or an object exchanged in which the value of the object is based on, and part of, the social relationship between the transactors, can be transformed into a commodity by simple exchanging the object in a context which eliminates the relationship between the transactors.

Thus, the same items can function either as a gift or as a commodity depending on the context, that is the presence or absence of an ongoing social relationship between the transactors. As gift exchange expresses the reciprocal social relationship between the transactors, its economic dimension is to be regarded in relation to the sociocultural factors (cf. Evans 2001: 21–25). Gift exchange in Tonga is based on three main concepts: ‘ofa (love and generosity)5, faka‘apa‘apa (respect) and fetokoni‘aki (mutual assistance and support). All relationships, that is the behaviour towards kāinga members (relatives), friends, neighbours, people of higher or lower societal rank (commoners, chiefs

.  This concept of love and affection (‘ofa) in connection with reciprocity is not only known in Tonga but throughout Polynesia. In other Polynesian areas, it is called aloha, aroha, alofa or arofa and it always describes positive affection and obligations as a basis of reciprocal treatment. The relationships between gods, chiefs and others of high rank and ordinary people are all expressed by reciprocal love in form of gifts (cf. Feinberg & Macpherson 2002: 119–121).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

or the king), church members and even god, are organised and expressed by a combination of those aspects (cf. Evans 2001: 57). So far, we have already seen that a brother has to respect his sister as she has higher social status. Similarly, one has the obligation to support the mehekitanga (FZ) and her children with whatever they ask for (for example, money, etc.). Even the mehekitanga’s request to adopt her brother’s child cannot be refused. On the other hand, the tu‘asina (MB) is in a lower status position vis-à-vis his sister and especially his sister’s children to whom he shows love and generosity by fulfilling all their wishes (cf. §2.1.3. for those and other relationships within the kāinga). Similarly, people of higher societal rank (such as nōpele and especially the king) must also be treated with respect which is expressed in different forms of social deference (for example, language of respect, seating order, etc.) and the material provision of gifts (for example, formal tributes). In return, the chief or the king is expected to treat his people with love and generosity (cf. Evans 2001: 57). Gift exchange is thus an important way to express ‘ofa, faka‘apa‘apa and fetokoni‘aki and thus to actualise and maintain social relationships. It is a reciprocal process in which both sides are expected to fulfill their obligation even in asymmetrical relationships such as between people of higher and those of lower status or rank (cf. Evans 2001: 57–59). Gift exchange is a concept of reciprocity and consists of three kinds of obligations: the obligation to give, the obligation to receive and the obligation to give in return (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 198). Tongans distinguish between two kinds of gifts: fatongia (giving as a social obligation) and me‘a ‘ofa (giving as a sign of love). While me‘a ‘ofa are given to much valued people without the feeling of obligation, such as (close) relatives and good friends, fatongia are more expected to be provided to people of higher rank or status, for example, the church, the nobility, the royal family or the mehekitanga (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 211; Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 144). The moral obligation to serve others by giving, i.e. fatongia, is a way to give social support to those with whom one has a relationship of any kind. In most cases, the obligation encompasses material goods such as food, money and traditional wealth items, but it also encompasses providing labour or symbolic support in form of respect, love, affection and concern (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 175–178). As everybody is supposed to provide these obligations to different people in ­various situations, everybody is not only in the position of giving but also in a position of receiving or getting something in return. Tongans feel uncomfortable and ashamed if they do not have enough to give these kinds of gifts, and if someone completely fails to meet his fatongia, the people talk about it and say that the person is lazy (fakapikopiko) and does not respect the Tongan tradition or the Tongan way of behaviour (anga fakatonga). This misbehaviour casts a negative light on them and they must fear the consequences such as the vengeance of God if they do not ful-



Chapter 4.  Possession and gift exchange 

fill their fatongia to the church (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 177–178, 210–211; Evans 2001: 57). This system of constant mutual social support and reciprocity results in a society where the concept of private property barely exists. Tongans of higher social status or societal rank are in the position to ask for anything and they are supposed to get it, such as the tu‘asina has to fulfill the demands of his sister’s children. Thus, only certain items of Tongans in higher social positions can be regarded as private as it is tapu to touch them, such as the father’s bed or his clothes (cf. §2.1.3). Gift exchange occurs in daily situations6 and it is part of ceremonial events as well. There are several special events that are important to Tongans during their lifetime, such as weddings, funerals, specific birthdays, misinale (collecting money for church), etc. Evans (cf. 2001:  127–142) groups these events into three types according to the focus of the ceremony: –– private events of an individual –– civic events (involving nobility, monarchy or government), and –– church events. Most of the ceremonial events in Tonga include a formalised gift exchange component. In this part of the event, food and traditional wealth items (koloa) such as tapa and mats (that is the wealth of men and women) are exchanged. The movement of these valuable items during the preparation, the event itself and after the event follows specific patterns (cf. Evans 2001:  127). Depending on the specific event, they express the social status or societal relationships in which the people are involved and which are important in the context of the event. 4.2.1  Gift exchange and private events At private events, that is funerals, weddings, births and birthdays (of which the first, 21st and 70th are celebrated), individual people are the focus of the event, .  In Niutoua, I have observed several exchange processes in daily life. These exchanges occurred mainly between relatives and neighbours. In most situations they exchanged food (if they had too much for themselves), material for the production of koloa and other items (such as flowers for soap or necklaces) or sometimes even the final products. In one situation [20.1.2003], a Tongan who had stayed overseas with a relative for several months came back with a large container full of material for building a new house and several bags of sugar, flour and rice. The whole household was looking forward to opening the container but it did not happen until his mehekitanga was present. She observed the whole unloading process and when she went home, she took half of the sugar, flour and rice bags with her. Later on, the woman of the household explained to me that ‘everybody who has something usually has to share it’ and then she also brought smaller bags of sugar or flour to some neighbours.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

and thus, the ceremonial activity is based on the kāinga relationship with regard to this ego (cf. §2.1.3). The types and quantities of goods that the relatives bring to the ceremony and that they will receive depend to a great extent on their kinship relation to the ego of the event. The mehekitanga as a relative of high status (‘eiki) generally receives a large share and special goods (cf. Evans 2001: 133). Relatives of lower status (tu‘a) show their respect not only by providing material goods but also by assisting in serving activities. It is thus an asymmetric exchange process but as everybody has relations in which they are tu‘a and others in which they are ‘eiki, they will be in situations of giving as well as of receiving depending on the event and its ego. At a first birthday celebration, for instance, the child’s family and relatives (especially those of lower status) prepare a feast in honour of the child and they provide food or koloa. The child’s mehekitanga brings the pae, that is traditionally a mat and a piece of tapa. Normally those gifts for the child do not remain with it, but they are distributed to ensure the social and spiritual well-being of the child. The child’s mehekitanga receives the top layer of the cake and the most beautiful part of the koloa which is mostly a kie Tonga (cf. Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 148; Evans 2001: 133–134). At the birth of a child, the cycle of gift exchange is even more complex. The child itself is regarded as a gift from the mother’s side to the paternal kin. In return, the father’s mehekitanga and the child’s mehekitanga (that is the father’s side) bring a gift (i.e. the pae) to the maternal kin and the child’s mehekitanga gives a name to the child – at least to the first-born of her brother (cf. §2.1.3). Finally, the best koloa (that is a kie Tonga) is again given to the child’s mehekitanga, a kin of the father’s side (cf. Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 147–149). Complex gift exchange processes are also part of wedding ceremonies (katoanga mali, lit. ‘festival marry’). The groom’s kin are expected to donate food (me‘a kai) while the bride’s female kin bring tapa and mats (koloa) for the groom’s mehekitanga. Apart from that, the mehekitanga is given the top layer of the wedding cake. These gifts can be regarded as asking the groom’s mehekitanga to accept the bride into the groom’s kāinga. Finally, the mehekitanga distributes the koloa and thus decides what each relative receives. The bride’s mother and other female relatives provide the bed (made of mats and pieces of tapa) for the married couple. After the wedding night, the groom’s relatives make a gift of food (including a slaughtered pig) to the bride’s mother in return for proof of the bride’s ­virginity that the mother has preserved until then (cf. Gifford 1929:  191–196; Kaeppler 1978b; van der Grijp 1993: 174–175, 218–220; Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 149). The traditional matrilateral cross-cousin marriage (kitetama) between chiefs was a marriage of duty (mali fatongia) in which it is possible to interpret the wedding partner (MBD) herself as part of an exchange process. The tu‘asina (MB)



Chapter 4.  Possession and gift exchange 

gives his daughter as wife to his sister’s son. This process is consistent with the facts that the mehekitanga (FZ) chooses the spouses for her brother’s children, that is her own son, and that a husband has higher status than his wife (such as the FZS as husband has higher status than the MBD as wife). At such a wedding, the FZ and her son are in an ‘eiki position while her brother and his daughter are tu‘a, and thus, the goods (that is bride wealth or dowry) flow from those tu‘a relatives to the ‘eiki ones (cf. Gifford 1929: 189–191; Biersack 1982: 189–193; Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 153). The exchange structure at funerals (putu) is also quite complex. It includes material gifts in form of food and koloa as well as immaterial support in form of the help with the tasks. While relatives of higher status (‘eiki) towards the deceased have privileged tasks, the more servile duties are done by relatives of lower ­status (liongi). Thus, relatives of highest status vis-à-vis the deceased (a female’s FZ’s ­children; a male’s sister’s children) prepare his/her body for the funeral. The fahu who is the highest authority and in charge of the funeral ceremony is required to do nothing except sit next to the deceased’s head (cf. §3.5.2), and at the end of the funeral, she releases the taboos by sprinkling around a liquid called loloku. The members of the kāinga who are not liongi enter the house of the deceased with gifts (koloa), utter loud laments and give the deceased a farewell kiss while maternal kin (i.e. liongi) stay outside and help cooking and distributing portions of food for all the guests. This food is provided by the close kin who are helped by the whole kāinga and friends. After the funeral, the fahu distributes the koloa among the kāinga. If she is a good person, she only takes the best piece for herself and gives the rest away, but she could also claim half of the koloa or even all for herself (cf. Gifford 1929: 196–203; Kaeppler 1978a; van der Grijp 1993: 169–172, 216–218; Douaire-Marsaudon 1996: 149–150). 4.2.2  Gift exchange and civic events At civic events, societal ranking (cf. §2.2) is the most important social network and is expressed in the way of gift exchange and other ceremonial activities such as the seating order in a kava circle (cf. §3.5.1). Civic events are the king’s birthday, wedding, funeral and the succession of the king or other people of high rank (such as chiefs or members of the royal family) as well as other events involving the king or chiefs such as formerly the ‘inasi ceremony and these days the Royal Agricultural Show. The ‘inasi ceremony was an annual celebration in which the Tu‘i Tonga was paid tribute in form of the first fruits (polopolo). In a first step, the duty of the ­commoners was to support the chiefly title holder on whose land they lived with gifts of food, that is the product of the land and their labour. In this way, the title holder could fulfill his obligations towards his senior chief and finally the Tu‘i

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Tonga (in the order of ha‘a ranking). In return, the local title holders provided the commoners with land for cultivation and living and, further, they showed their love by supporting and protecting their people (political kāinga). By offering the first fruits to the Tu‘i Tonga, the people also showed their love to the gods as the Tu‘i Tonga was the spiritual leader and of divine origin and were, therefore, ensured the protection of the gods (cf. Martin 1991 [1817]: 289, 342; Bott 1982: 46). Therefore the traditional network of gift exchange between the gods, the Tu‘i Tonga, the chiefs and the people was organised in different circles. The gods showed love to their descendants (that is especially the Tu‘i Tonga as their closest descendant) by granting them mana. Moreover, the land was given from the gods to the Tu‘i Tonga and through him to the chiefly title holders who finally gave it to the commoners for cultivation. In return, the commoners provided goods and services to their title holder who then fulfilled his obligation in form of goods to the senior title holder and finally the Tu‘i Tonga. Besides the political significance of these obligations to the Tu‘i Tonga, it also had a spiritual aspect. As mediator to the gods, the Tu‘i Tonga translated these material gifts into spiritual terms. In return for those gifts, the people expected to receive the blessing of the gods. Today, the Royal Agricultural Show can be regarded as a modernised version of the ‘inasi ceremony (cf. Bataille 1976: 85). It is an annual visit of the king together with some nōpele and government officials to the main island groups (that is Tongatapu, ‘Eua, Ha‘apai, Vava‘u and Niuatoputapu). In each island group, the villages present their best agricultural and handicraft products to the king who judges the products and hands out prizes for the best ones (after a jury has already made a survey). During the king’s visit, the villages organise big feasts (pola) for the king and his companions and in addition the king receives gifts of pigs, yams, kava, mats and tapa which he takes home. Later, some of them are redistributed among people who are important to him (relatives and political friends) or even sold (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 211–213; Evans 2001: 129–130). There are several aspects which make this modern event of gift exchange comparable to the traditional ‘inasi ceremony. At both events, the societal order is expressed via the presentation of gifts. The people act together in groups of villages just like the political kāinga did formerly. Finally, as a larger unit (today: island group; formerly: ha‘a), they present the material goods to the highest ranked member of the society (today the king; formerly the Tu‘i Tonga). In Niutoua, the traditional prohibitions and practices concerning the vete (cf. §4.1.1) exhibit similar gift exchange structures. As it is tapu to sell this special fish from Niutoua, vete cannot be regarded as a source of cash income or a commodity. Nobody is even allowed to take vete out of the village until the best and biggest vete are delivered to Tāmale who further presents them as a gift to Kalaniuvalu because Kalaniuvalu is the nōpele of the Ha‘a Tu‘i Tonga, the line to which Tāmale belongs.



Chapter 4.  Possession and gift exchange 

In 2005, Tāmale’s matāpule Fainga‘a and Tofavaha and the town officer Tangitau brought two baskets of vete on behalf of Tāmale to Kalaniuvalu in Lapaha. As the former Kalaniuvalu title holder was living in New Zealand, the vete was then given to the king instead (‘Eseta Lolomana‘ia, Tāmale’s wife: personal communication, 21.7.2007). 4.2.3  Gift exchange and church events Church events vary according to the church an individual belongs to. I will focus on the ceremonial events of the three Methodist churches (Siasi Uesiliana, Siasi Tonga Hou‘eiki and Siasi Tonga Tau‘ataina). They celebrate ‘uike lotu (lit. ‘week of prayer/worship’), misinale (collecting money for the church, named after the English term ‘missionary’), an annual conference and other feasts such as Easter, Christmas and Mother’s Day. During the ‘uike lotu single families give feasts for the church members (fakaafe) as a gift to God. In addition to the gift exchange component of this and the other events, money donations to the church are collected quarterly and monthly (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 200–210; Evans 2001: 58, 135–142; own observations). With the growing influence of Christianity, people also show respect by providing gifts to the church and thus to the Christian God at several church events, and in return, God shows his love by blessing them. Where ­previously the Tu‘i Tonga as spiritual leader and the chiefs were the main focus of ­ceremonial gift exchange with commoners, the churches have gradually come to share this function (cf. Bott 1981: 62). The church donations are generally made by the nuclear family but they may be organised in larger units (cf. Evans 2001: 52). For misinale, money is collected by support groups (kalasi: lit. ‘classes’) which are assigned for this purpose. In Niutoua, these are four kalasi, each comprised of the villagers who live in one ­village quarter divided by the big crossroad. Within the kalasi, single families try to fulfill expectations and, further, the kalasi compete themselves as the amount of their money donations is openly announced during the collection. An even larger unit of competition during misinale are the villages or districts as the donation sums are finally broadcast over Radio Tonga (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 205–206). The families of villagers who have passed away during the last year are expected to donate even bigger amounts of money and apart from that they provide fine mats and tapa. In this case, the whole kāinga (including relatives who do not belong to this church) helps to gather a sufficient amount of money for the blessing of the deceased and his family. The fakaafe are primarily organised by nuclear family. The households that are closely associated with the organising household will assist and they help with

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

the preparations and contribute food or other resources (cf. Evans 2001: 58). These feasts are organised during the ‘uike lotu, in the first week in January, to ask for God’s blessing during the new year. The network of gift exchange at church events is often extensive and includes more exchange processes than those between God, the church ministers (faifekau) as representatives of God, and the faithful. However, these groups are the main participants in the circular exchange process in which the faithful give material goods (food, koloa or money) to the church or its ministers who pass the gift on to God in form of prayers. Tongans ultimately see their gifts to the ministers or the church as gifts to God either in return for the land they may use (gift from God) or in order to gain God’s blessing. If they are blessed with health and prosperity, they will again thank God in form of gifts to the church. Besides this exchange cycle, other people may be integrated in the gift exchange at church events. Gifts that a faithful person makes to the church minister are seen by other people, providing the giver (and his social group) with prestige and possibly power (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 207–209). Certain gifts to the church and God (such as food at a fakaafe) are also gifts to the participants who ask God in prayers during the feast for the blessing of the sponsoring family. If the feast is in fact given in honour of a child of the sponsoring family, then this child is the primary focus of such blessings. The feast is therefore a gift of the parents to show love to their child. Other exchange parties in this process are the friends and relatives of the sponsoring family who demonstrate their support by helping with the organisation and preparation of the feast and people in the village who receive the food that is left over after the feast (cf. Evans 2001: 58–59). Those who give food and services in this process can be certain to receive support in the future when they ask for it and those receiving will provide gifts in their turn. In conclusion gift exchange is a reciprocal process of giving and receiving in which giving is the requirement for receiving. However, it is not always a process of immediate reciprocity. Donors do not always receive in return exactly from those to whom they have presented their gifts (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 207). This is the case, for example, at church events in which the faithful make gifts to the church ­ministers who translate these gifts to God who gives the faithful blessings in return. 4.3  Remittances and the role of money7 The modernisation reforms of King Tāufa‘āhau Tupou IV led to a number of economic developments, including the rise in waged labour, migration and market

.  Currency was introduced into the Tongan economy by European missionaries in the 19th century as a means of interaction between Tongans and Europeans (cf. Small 1997: 35).



Chapter 4.  Possession and gift exchange 

activity (cf. Evans 2001: 53). Today, a lot of Tongans encourage their children to seek a better education, employment in government jobs or other paid employment. Therefore many migrate within Tonga (mostly to Tongatapu) or even overseas with the hope of rising socially through education and income.8 Even though many people, especially on the outer islands, still live mainly from subsistence (agriculture, fishing, etc.), money has become more important for school fees, taxes and registration fees for allotments and even in gift exchange processes (such as misinale). The primary source of monetary income for most households are remittances from relatives who migrated overseas or within Tonga for employment.9 ­Monetary remittances are mostly sent from children to their parents but also from husbands (to wives), siblings or siblings’ children. They are sent for specific purposes to close relatives who request money for school fees, funerals, church donations (especially at misinale), building a house or other projects for which financial help is needed. These can also be larger projects in which a number of people are involved (cf. Bott 1981: 61; James 1997; Evans 2001: 20–21, 120–122; Morton Lee 2003: 30–32). Migration and remittances are not just a one-way monetary flow, but rather form part of a complex network of mutual aid and support. Tongans living overseas help to accommodate expatriates who arrive looking for work, and send money and material goods home which are difficult to acquire in Tonga. In return Tongans send traditional goods from home to expatriates, and foster children from Tongans living overseas so that these children learn the Tongan way (anga fakatonga) (cf. James 1991; Morton Lee 2003: 86–91). Remittances show social support and are expressions of love and affection. Besides remittances, further sources of monetary income for most households are the wages of household members, the sale of women’s koloa, agricultural

.  Bott (1981:  69) describes those who have a better education and thus occupations in church, education, medicine, law and government as a new ‘middle class’. They earn more money and as a result they can afford better education abroad for their children and new status goods (cf. Bott 1981: 69–79), such as bigger Western-style houses and cars. However, this can create problems with the traditional obligation to give (fatongia). They are expected to support relatives, friends, the church, and even the village and by doing so, they acquire prestige and even power. Well educated men (especially those in government positions) even have the chance to marry women of high rank (cf. §2.3.1). .  The economy of most Pacific island states depend on migration, remittances, aid donations, and government bureaucracies (MIRAB model) (Bertram & Watters 1985). Immigration and aid donations are generally a concern of the Pacific rim countries, such as New Zealand, Australia and the United States (cf. James 1991: 1). For Pacific islanders, overseas migration is an interesting economic alternative to agriculture (cf. §3.4) as long as the overseas economy provides a good source of monetary income (cf. Evans 2001: 18–21).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

and fishing products, and to a small extent trade. The salaries paid in Tonga are small compared to Western standards but compared to other sources of income in Tonga, they are high (cf. Evans 2001: 122–123). Money and commodity production (for example, koloa for sale) are not nece­ ssarily markers of a market economy, for money is also seen as a new kind of gift that expresses social relationships. In a lot of gift exchange processes, besides traditional wealth items, modern items and money have become important as a result of the influence of the international markets. However, as long as these items express the relationship between the transactors, they are more gifts than commodities (cf. Evans 2001: 51–56). This was apparent in several examples that I observed in Niutoua. Firstly, a brother living overseas (USA) was asked to send money for the school fees of his sister’s children. As tu‘asina of his sister’s children, he is expected to show love and support his sister’s children with everything they ask for. Therefore he sent the money as a gift. Secondly, parents and siblings living overseas (New Zealand) sent a freezer to help to preserve food as a gift to their close relatives in Tonga. In return, the family in Tonga sent them traditional Tongan goods (such as koloa) which Tongans rarely produce in New Zealand. Thirdly, a group of female kāinga members helped a relative to gather a large amount of money for misinale. His wife had died during the previous year and his donation was supposed to be particularly generous as it is also regarded as a gift to God to bless his wife. To raise this money the women met and produced tutu that they then sold in the market. The tutu was a commodity production in order to get the money as a gift for the relative and his deceased wife. Finally, during a fono meeting at the end of 2002, I observed that the chief was expected to financially support the village when part of the water and diesel invoices were still outstanding. In this case the payment of the outstanding invoices can be regarded as a sign of the chief ’s caring for his village. These four examples demonstrate that money or modern wealth items (such as a freezer) can function as gifts and that commodity production has to be regarded as a subordinate process to gift exchange. However, while the gift exchange in the first three examples serves to maintain the social relationship between relatives and neighbours, the fourth example focuses on the societal network. A further example in which money is regarded as a gift has already been presented in connection with land (cf. §3.1). Although the Tongan law prohibits the sale of land, it is occurring with increasing frequency. However, the participants do not regard money as payment but as a gift in return for the gift of a plot of land. This combination of capitalist elements such as commodity production, waged labour, private ownership and the use of money, and the traditional elements of subsistence and gift economy in today’s Tongan economy can also create problems at the interface of the two economic systems. These problems, for example, can



Chapter 4.  Possession and gift exchange 

be observed in small shops within the villages. Tongans who have earned some money while they lived overseas come back to Tonga with the plan to set up a small shop with their funds. Their project often fails because they are the connecting link between the traditional system of fatongia (duty to give) and capitalism (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 225). As capitalistic entrepreneur, the shop owner buys the products that he wants to sell in his shop; the products are commodities and he is the private owner. However, within the village he is part of the social network and thus obliged to give if relatives request money and goods from the shop. The goods are then gifts and after a while he is not able to buy new products for his shop. Similar cases occur with other jobs at the interface between capitalistic monetary economy and traditional gift exchange, such as bus drivers. They buy a bus to earn money by transporting people but ultimately their relatives or even friends do not pay for the service as they regard it as a gift (cf. van der Grijp 1993: 220, 224–226). Generally those entrepreneurs who survive economically are not linked to a village or are part of a co-op or a larger company. In Niutoua, for example, I observed that shops of several private owners closed or reopened during 2002 and 2004 but the shop of the Tonga Communication Federation was successful (cf. §1.3.2). At this shop the villagers were willing to pay for the products because the Federation introduced a refund system. At the end of the year everybody received a (monetary) gift depending on the amount of money that they spent at the shop during the year.

chapter 5

Conclusion: connecting remarks on social structure, space and possession As the previous chapters have demonstrated, social structure, space and ­possession are closely related features of Tongan culture. This becomes apparent in several phenomena. Firstly, in the land tenure system which is anchored in the societal hierarchy and in which land is part of an exchange structure, and secondly, in the seating order or other spatial arrangements which reflect hierarchical structures. Apart from the seating arrangements, access to land and the flow of mutual support and gifts in exchange processes, the social and societal stratification is expressed by and reflected in further cultural and linguistic structures, such as clothing, special behaviour, the order of serving kava, speech preludes and even the classification of kinship terminology. The sociocultural structure of this highly stratified society, which is anchored in its conceptualisation of the world (that is the concept of mana), therefore has an impact on the spatial, possessive and linguistic structures of Tongan society. In the traditional land tenure system the access to land was determined by the social status and societal rank, and this access (which was the basis for ­agriculture) was not only important for subsistence, but was regarded as being part of a gift exchange process. Conversely, the basic function of gift exchange was (and still is) to visualise and thus stabilise the social relationships and hierarchical structures. All the land belonged to the Tu‘i Tonga, that is the spiritual leader and highest ranked member of the former Tongan society. It was given to him as a gift of the gods. The Tu‘i Tonga then assigned estates to the chiefly title holders who again allocated parts of their land to the heads (‘ulumotu‘a) of the extended families (fa‘ahinga) living on their estates. In return for this societal downwards distribution of land from the Tu‘i Tonga (or even the gods) through the chiefs to the people, there was a flow of obligations in the opposite direction. Gifts of food, products of the land and the people’s labour, were offered through the chiefly title holders to

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

the king and thus the gods. These gifts again insured the gods’ ­protection of land and people.1 In the modern land tenure system, the highest ranked Tongan (the king who holds the title of Tu‘i Kanokupolu) is still the owner of all land, and chiefs (nōpele) hold hereditary estates. As Tāmale of Niutoua is a traditional chief but was not officially appointed as nōpele, the village land is owned by the government and is not an hereditary estate. In contrast to the traditional system, the new land laws assure every adult male Tongan direct access to land on a government or a noble estate and officially free them from tributes. Moreover, agriculture is not the only source of income in modern Tonga (development of a better educated middle class with salaried jobs), and so not everybody requires access to land for cultivation. For a lot of families this is important because not every male Tongan receives his officially granted tax allotment due to a land shortage. In spite of all these changes, land is still the basis of a subsistence economy for food supply, and the production of traditional wealth items (koloa). These are still the fundamental items of gift exchange. Therefore land is still regarded as a gift, but in a new way, for example in the exchange of money for land. Apart from the hierarchical network and reciprocal exchange in the land tenure system, social structure, space and possession are linked in other ways. In a society with a strongly developed social stratification (in Tonga nobody is equal – based on descent), it is considered important to honour the differences in rank or status of its members. Therefore the hierarchical structures are visualised and maintained in various ways. We have seen so far that in ceremonial acts societal rank (including the ha‘a ranking) is spatially expressed by seating order (especially in kava circles), the order of serving the kava, the flow of mutual support and gifts (at civic events), tapu, and linguistically by the order of mentioning members of the audience in speech preludes. By contrast, the social status within the kāinga becomes visible by clothing (especially at weddings and funerals), behaviour (tasks, privileges and tapu), the flow of gifts and spatial seating arrangements. Linguistically, the classification of kinship terminology is adjusted to the tu‘a/‘eiki system. Table 5.1 provides a survey of all aspects reflecting underlying structures of social and societal stratification.

.  In her analysis of honorific possessive classifiers, Keating (cf. 1997) displays the same connection between social structure, distribution of land (that is a source of nourishment) and obligations of providing food (that is products of land) in Pohnpei (Micronesia). It is a hierarchical network in which the chiefs distribute the land to the people of low status and get fruits of the land in return.



Chapter 5.  Conclusion: 

Table 5.1.  Visualisation of social and societal structures social status within the kāinga

societal rank

spatial sitting arrangements (§3.5.2)

seating order at kava circles (§3.5.1); holding of hereditary estates (§3.1) gift exchange at civic events, today: also at church events (§4.2.2 and § 4.2.3) speech preludes (§2.2.3); language of respect (§8) tapu

gift exchange at private events (§4.2.1) classification of kinship terminology (§2.1.4) clothes at funerals & weddings: type and size of ta‘ovala (§4.1.2); tasks and privileges (§4.2.1); tapu (§2.1.3)

 space

 possession  language  other   aspects

The visualisation of societal and social structure has various functions: –– At events which include changes of status within the social or societal ­hierarchy, such as births, weddings, funerals and the succession of title holders (that is the sovereign or nōpele), the new hierarchical order is visualised by several ceremonial aspects (such as gift exchange components, kava circles or other seating arrangements, adequate behaviour and clothing). In this way, the new members are introduced into their new position in relation to their kāinga members or the ha‘a structure respectively. –– Events without changes of societal structure, such as church events or the royal agricultural show, are almost exclusively based on gift exchange components which serve to respect, reinforce and renew the hierarchical structure, that is the bonds between the transactors, their roles and positions. In general, higher social and societal rank is linked to specific spatial and possessive features: –– Spatially, it is expressed by a position ‘in front of ’ and ‘above’ those of lower rank or status. In some situations, an ‘inner’ position (that is a closer ­participation) is associated with people of higher rank or status. These spatial metaphors become especially apparent in the kava circle. –– In gift exchange processes higher rank/status is primarily associated with receiving in contrast to the lower ranked people who are providing material gifts (such as food, koloa and money). However, it is still an exchange process. People of higher rank are expected to take care of their people. They

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

t­ raditionally provided protection and blessings (that is immaterial goods), land, and were responsible for sharing and redistributing other goods, especially if their people needed support – obligations which are still current today. Within the relative hierarchy, everybody has relatives of higher and lower ­status which implies that everyone is part of a social network composed of giving and receiving relationships.

Photo illustrations

March through Niutoua (on ‘Happy Day’): the chief ‘in front’ followed by his matāpule, the priest and the town officer

Kava circle in Niutoua: the chief is not present and thus his place ‘in front’ is left empty

My Tongan family: dressed for church (with ta‘ovala)

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Wedding ceremony: the husband (in the middle) is dressed in tapa for the traditional kava ceremony

Funeral: women provide gifts (koloa such as fine mats)

Funeral: the big mourning mat (ta‘ovala putu) indicates that the man is tu‘a ­towards the deceased

part ii

Linguistic issues So far, the anthropological part has shown that social structure, space and possession are closely related aspects in Tongan culture, that is social stratification is expressed and visualised through the dimensions of space and possessive features. Considering this cultural correlation, it is remarkable that these three aspects also exhibit particular linguistic features: –– spatial descriptions and cognitive structures based on relative and absolute coordinates and a socially based definition of spatial coordinates (Chapter 6) –– two possessive categories (A- and O-possession) based on the distinctive feature of ‘control’; in descriptions of kinship relations the distribution of A and O reflects to a certain extent the social hierarchy as well as other social concepts (Chapter 7), and –– the language of respect, an honorific system which reflects the absolute/ societal hierarchy (Chapter 8). These linguistic systems will be described and analysed in the following chapters. The analysis is based on research data I collected in the Niutouan inquiry and during several specific interviews with a Tongan language teacher, a Tongan sociolinguist and a member of the royal family (cf. §1.3).

chapter 6

Spatial descriptions A research group of cognitive anthropologists at the Max Planck Institute of ­Psycholinguistics in Nijmegen (The Netherlands), i.e. Brown & Levinson, ­Haviland, Senft, Bennardo and others, examined how space is coded both linguistically and cognitively in various languages by the use of different frames of reference. The results of these studies show that not all languages and cultures of the world use the same single frame of reference as previously postulated by language universals. Rather, it has been established that frames of reference are languagespecific (cf. Levinson 1996b and others). Further, they point out a systematic correspondence between the frame of reference which is used by speakers of a certain language for spatial orientation and the system of spatial description within the same language.1 In order to gather comparative data on spatial orientation and spatial description, they developed a set of ‘spatial games’. These are methods to collect standardised linguistic descriptions of spatial constellations and, furthermore, language-­independent data about the cognitive perception of space. In this chapter, first the different frames of reference used in the languages of the world to refer to space will be defined. In this context, the approaches of the Nijmegen research group will be presented in more detail; their considerations, the design of their investigations and their results. I will then focus on ­peculiarities of spatial reference in the Oceanic language family (in contrast to most I­ ndo-European languages). A similar analysis of spatial perception and description follows for Tongan. For the purpose of clarity, the different Tongan lexical items for describing spatial constellations will be presented first. These are spatial prepositions, directionals and spatial nouns.

.  This supports the principle of linguistic relativity that assumes that different languages (that is different linguistic frameworks) result in different views/kinds of observation of its speakers (cf. Whorf 1956: 221; Foley 1997: 192, 216).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

The focus of the analysis carried out in Niutoua is the use of the different frames of reference pursuing the following questions: which lexical items are used for the realisation of the different frames of reference in Tongan, how is space memorised and how do Tongans encode spatial relations in various speech situations? In the last section we will consider how ‘front’ is assigned to houses and other places. This finally leads to the question whether the linguistic use of ‘front’ is determined by sociocultural parameters.

6.1  Different frames of reference Generally, the linguistic literature on spatial orientation distinguishes three major ‘frames of reference’, i.e. coordinate systems for cognitive and linguistic coding of spatial constellations (cf. Levinson 1996a: 110; Senft 1994: 419). These are: –– the absolute frame of reference, –– the relative frame of reference, and –– the intrinsic frame of reference. The main difference between these three frames of reference is the different ­reference or anchor points (A) of the coordinate system (C). a.  Relative frame of reference The relative frame of reference is a viewer- or speaker-centred frame of reference, meaning that the anchor point of the coordinate system is the point of view (V), i.e. the relative position and body-coordinates of the viewer/speaker. ‘Left-right’, ‘front-back’ and ‘up-down’ are typical relative coordinate axes if they are anchored in V (Example 1). Alongside V, relative spatial descriptions contain a figure (F) and a ground object (G) which are distinct from V. The figure is the object whose position is described in relation to the ground object’s position. In contrast to the position of F, the position of G is known (cf. Levinson 1996a: 110, 142–145). Therefore, G is also called ‘relatum’ or reference object (cf. Levinson 1996a: 135). In Example 1, the tree is F, the car is G and from the viewer’s perspective (V) ‘the tree is behind the car’. This means that the car (G) is in between viewer/speaker (V) and the tree (F), as demonstrated in Figure 6.1a.

(1) The tree is behind the car.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

F

G

V(A) Figure 6.1a.  Spatial situation of Example 1 (relative reading)

b.  Intrinsic frame of reference Example 1 has a second reading: an intrinsic one. An intrinsic frame of reference uses the ground object (G) as the anchor point of the coordinate system. In this context, the inherent features of G (which are based on its function, shape, etc.), such as ‘front-back’, ‘left-right’ and ‘top-bottom’, serve as coordinate axes (cf. Levinson 1996a: 110, 140–142). Consequently, the intrinsic reading of Example 1 is based on another spatial situation (Figure 6.1b) which is independent of the viewer’s/speaker’s location (V). In this case, the tree (F) is located at the intrinsic back-side (i.e. the rear-side) of the car (cf. Levinson 1983: 82). F

G (A)

Figure 6.1b.  Spatial situation of Example 1 (intrinsic reading)

c.  Absolute frame of reference In contrast to the relative and the intrinsic frame of reference, the absolute frame of reference uses fixed reference points (A), which are independent of the point of view (V) and of the properties of the ground object (G). Instead, they are based upon salient natural and geographical features, and hence these systems of spatial reference are also called ‘geocentric’ (cf. François 2004: 3). Typical absolute coordinates are the cardinal directions ‘north’, ‘south’ ‘east’, and ‘west’ (Example 2), based on the rising and setting of the sun. Other special environmental features, such as a

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

river, a mountain, the sea or wind direction, can also serve as ­absolute ­coordinates: ‘upstream-downstream’, ‘uphill-downhill’, ‘inland-seaward’ or ‘upwind-downwind’. Such variations can be assigned to corresponding cardinal directions (cf. Levinson 1996a: 111, 145; François 2004: 3).

(2) The tree is north of the car.

In Example 2, the tree is again F and the car is G, but the anchor point (A) can be anywhere, as it is independent of any V- or G-perspective (Figure 6.2). F

(A) N W

E S

G

Figure 6.2.  Spatial situation of Example 2 (absolute frame of reference)

Traditionally, spatial reference systems have been classified as either intrinsic or deictic, that is either the coordinates are centred on the speaker (deictic), or on the intrinsic coordinates of the ground (non-deictic) (cf. Levinson 1983: 82; Levinson 1996a: 135). However, Levinson (cf. 1996a: 135–138) points out that the feature deictic is not in opposition to that of intrinsic because both intrinsic as well as relative constructions can be both deictic, i.e. the anchor point (A) of the coordinate system is the speaker (or addressee), or non-deictic (cf. Figure 6.3). + deictic

+ deictic intrinsic

– deictic

relative

– deictic

Figure 6.3.  Feature distinction according to Levinson

Examples 3 and 4 can both be classified as intrinsic because the anchor point (A) of the frame of reference is the ground object (G), which is the speaker in Example 3 and the chair in Example 4. Thus, Example 3 is deictic, while Example 4 is non-deictic. (3) Levinson (1996a: 137): The ball is in front of me. (4) Levinson (1996a: 137): The ball is in front of the chair (at the chair’s front).



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

In Examples 5 and 6, the anchor point (A) of the coordinate system is the ­perspective (V) of a viewer/speaker who is distinct from the figure (the ball in Examples 5 and 6) and the ground (the tree in Examples 5 and 6). This is the characteristic feature which leads to the classification of both examples as relative. Along with the intrinsic constructions above, the relative ones can be deictic (Example 5: A is the speaker) or non-deictic (Example 6: A is a third person, the viewer John). (5) Levinson (1996a: 137): The ball is in front of the tree. (6) Levinson (1996a: 137): For John, the ball is in front of the tree.

These examples demonstrate that the difference between relative and intrinsic frames of reference cannot simply be defined by the origin of the coordinate system, but the ground also has to be taken into consideration. Consequently, Levinson (1996a: 137–138) makes a precise distinction between intrinsic and relative reference systems: [The] use of the intrinsic system of coordinates entails that relatum (ground) and origin are constituted by the same object (the spatial relation is binary, between F and G), while the use of the relative system entails that they are distinct (the relation is ternary, between F, G, and viewpoint V).

Summarising, we gain the following opposing options concerning linguistic descriptions of space. Firstly, there are three different coordinate systems or frames of reference: absolute versus relative versus intrinsic. Secondly, the origins of the coordinate systems can be deictic or non-deictic. A final overview is given in Table 6.1. Table 6.1.  The different frames of reference and the deictic versus non-deictic distinction absolute frame of reference  A: fixed coordinates, not G or V deictic  A: speaker or addressee

relative frame of reference  A: V (of viewer or speaker), different from G

Not possible! ‘The tree is behind the car.’ (A cannot be speaker or F:  tree addressee and fixed G:  car coordinates at the A: V (of the speaker), same time) different from G non-deictic ‘The tree is north of the car.’ ‘For Peter, the tree is  A: not F:  tree behind the car.’ speaker or G:  car F:  tree addressee A: environment, G:  car not G or V A: V (of a third person, the viewer Peter)

intrinsic frame of reference   A = G

‘The tree is in front of me.’ F:  tree G:  speaker A:  speaker ‘The tree is behind the car (at the rear-side of the car).’ F:  tree G:  car A:  car

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Levinson (cf. 1996b: 179–183) examines a few universals concerning spatial conception and description that have been postulated so far for the languages of the world, and shows that they fail in some cases. The universals (cf. Clark 1973; Miller & Johnson-Laird 1976; and others)2 dictate that spatial expressions are primarily ego-centric (i.e. A = V of viewer/speaker) and not absolute but relative. Relative and ego-centric spatial ­descriptions are wellknown from Indo-European languages, but cross-cultural and cross-linguistic studies show that not all languages use this same linguistic frame of reference with regard to spatial descriptions (Levinson 1996a: 110, 125). However, there are languages with more absolute or intrinsic systems refuting these universals. Guugu Yimidhirr, an Australian Aboriginal language, has often been cited as a typical example of a complex absolute system of spatial reference based on cardinal directions. It completely lacks spatial terms based on the relative frame of reference such as ‘left’ and ‘right’ (cf. Haviland 1998). Tzeltal, a Mayan language, is an example of an elaborate intrinsic system (based on the shape of figure and ground) to describe objects in spatial contact. When objects are separated in space, Tzeltal also uses an absolute frame of reference based on geography, specifically the mountains: ‘uphill’ versus ‘downhill’ (cf. Brown 1994; Levinson 1994). Alongside this cross-linguistic analysis, Levinson, Senft, and other psycholinguists at the Max Planck Institute in Nijmegen have further examined whether the choice of a frame of reference in linguistic coding of space correlates with spatial cognition or perception, i.e. if the same frame of reference is used in non-linguistic coding (cf. Levinson 1996a: 109). To examine this relation between the linguistic and non-linguistic coding of space, both categories have to be examined separately. Therefore psycholinguists have developed two sets of comparable spatial games (Pederson et al. 1998: 557): –– “director/matcher language games” to get standardised data about the coding of spatial relations in language, –– non-linguistic experiments “to determine the speaker’s cognitive re-presentation”. The director/matcher language games were used to collect standardised and thus cross-linguistically comparable data about spatial descriptions. All these games

.  These approaches correspond with Whorf ‘s idea (cf. 1956: 158–159) that the concept of space is probably the same in all languages, based on innate biological universals. In spite of his demonstrations of the principle of linguistic relativity with regard to a time-concept in different languages, he emphasised the doctrine of psychic unity of humanity (cf. Foley 1997: 213–216).



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

Table 1

Table 2

N

S

right

N

left

right

consist of a director (somebody who gives descriptions) and a matcher (­somebody who makes a selection or a construction). The director sees a spatial constellation (stimulus) which they have to describe to the matcher. With only this description and without seeing the stimulus, the matcher should be able to select or ­reconstruct the stimulus (cf. Senft 1994: 416–420). The non-linguistic experiments concentrate on the absolute versus relative kind of cognition. To find out which of these two frames is used by a speaker to memorise spatial constellations, the experiments are all carried out on the following basis (cf. Senft 1994: 420–427). A pattern (stimulus) is shown to an informant on Table 1 which they have to memorise. This pattern is asymmetric, that means it has different sides which differ from the person’s left to their right side (relative view) or from the north to the south (absolute view). After a short break of about 30 seconds, the informant has to turn around (rotation of 180°). There, they face another table (Table 2) on which they have to reconstruct, ­complete or select (depending on the experiment) what they saw on Table 1. Figure 6.4 (cf. Levinson 1996a: 113) demonstrates this experiment with an arrow as stimulus.

180° rotation

left

absolute relative

S

Figure 6.4.  Underlying design of the non-linguistic experiment

If the informant chooses the arrow pointing to the north on Table 2, this would show that they memorised the arrow on Table 1 as also ‘pointing to the north’. Consequently, they use an absolute frame of reference for cognitive coding of space. On the other hand, if the informant chooses the arrow pointing to their right on Table 2, they must have memorised the arrow on Table 1 as also ‘pointing to their right’. In that case, they use a relative frame of reference for cognitive coding of space. As the anchor point of such a reference system is the informant themselves, it has turned around (180°) together with them, but in the absolute system it stays fixed.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

In cross-cultural analysis, these non-linguistic experiments and the separate collection of linguistic data (director/matcher games) have shown that there is a strong correlation between language and cognition. Languages use different frames of reference for spatial descriptions, and its speakers also use different frames of reference in non-linguistic coding. In this context, the frame of reference used linguistically in spatial descriptions of a certain language strongly correlates with the frame of reference used for non-linguistic coding by the speakers of this language. This means that the same frame of reference is used for linguistic as well as for cognitive (non-linguistic) coding of spatial relations. For example, if in a language spatial relations are mainly encoded in an absolute way, its speakers also memorise spatial constellations in an absolute way. This implies that these speakers always have their absolute orientation marks (such as cardinal directions) in mind (cf. Levinson 1996a: 157; Pederson et al. 1998: 584–586).

6.2  Peculiarities of spatial reference in the Oceanic language family In contrast to Indo-European languages, the Oceanic language family makes systematic use of an absolute frame of reference based on geocentric coordinates such as a ‘land-sea’ axis and an axis orthogonal to it on land, and an ‘up-down’ axis motivated by the prevailing winds at sea. This absolute reference system is used for all degrees of distance while in Indo-European languages the use of geocentric cardinal directions is mainly restricted to long distances, such as ‘the north of Europe’ but never ‘north of the table’ (cf. François 2004: 1–16). François (2004: 5–6) bases his findings on a sample of 14 Oceanic languages belonging to diverse subgroups. Of these languages, Samoan and Marquesan have probably the most similar geocentric systems compared to Tongan as they all belong to the Polynesian subgroup. The majority of all Oceanic languages make use of a ‘land-sea’ axis on the local scale, that is in the narrow context of a village or island. This axis is orthogonal to the shoreline and defined by the perceptible declivity of the landscape, the downward movement towards the sea. In Samoan and Marquesan, this ‘land-sea’ axis is lexified by locative phrases based on the noun phrases uta (bush/land) versus tai (sea). Other languages also encode this ‘land-sea’ axis by a pair of vertical directionals (‘up’ versus ‘down’) (cf. Blust 1997: 39–40; Hill 1997; Ozanne-Rivierre 1997; Hyslop 1999; François 2004: 7–8). Besides the ‘land-sea’ axis, Marquesan and other Oceanic languages employ a second axis on the local scale which is parallel to the shoreline and thus ­orthogonal to the ‘land-sea’ axis. This traversing axis is undifferentiated, making no ­distinction between its two sides. In Marquesan, it is lexified by a single expression: ‘i kō ‘on each side’, that is parallel to the shore (cf. François 2004: 12–16).



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

On the navigational scale, in the inter-island or seafaring context, the ­Oceanic languages make use of a single axis dividing space into two halves. The geographical orientation of this axis is NW-SE, and thus, the prevailing trade winds are seen as the source of this cardinal axis. In Samoan, Marquesan and most other Oceanic languages, this axis is encoded by the vertical directionals ‘up’ (­meaning ‘against the wind/upwind; toward SE’) versus ‘down’ (meaning ‘following the wind/­downwind; towards NW’) (cf. François 2004: 8–12). Moreover, in most Oceanic languages, the directionals ‘up’ and ‘down’ are also part of the lexemes for the cardinal directions ‘east’ and ‘west’ (cf. §6.3 for Tongan). This suggests the path of the sun as reference system: ‘up’ is associated with ‘sunrise’ and ‘down’ with ‘sunset’ (cf. Ross 1995: 285–286; Blust 1997: 40). However, an alternate hypothesis is that this linguistic derivation was once based on the ­prevailing wind instead of the movement of the sun (cf. Ozanne-Rivierre 1997: 85). 6.3  Tongan spatial markers Besides proper place names and landmarks, Tongan has three groups of specific lexical items to encode space (cf. Bennardo 2000a: 504): –– spatial prepositions –– directionals, i.e. adverbs which are associated with direction, and –– spatial nouns3 These three groups will be described below. a.  Tongan spatial prepositions Tongan has three spatial or locative prepositions as shown in Table 6.2 (cf. Churchward 1953: 100; Broschart 1994: 41; Bennardo 2000a: 504). Table 6.2.  Tongan spatial prepositions locative: allative: ablative:

‘i ki mei

– at, in, on – to, on to, into – from, out of

.  Broschart (1997) argues that Tongan makes no lexical distinction between parts of speech, that is most lexical items can function as a noun, adjective, verb or an adverb in different syntactic contexts. Therefore the function of a lexical item is determined by the syntactic context (cf. §1.4). As directionals only occur as specifiers of a verb, they are syntactically adverbs (cf. §6.3) and spatial nouns can be syntactically classified as nouns as they are always part of a prepositional phrase (cf. §6.3).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Each of these three prepositions has this basic form (‘i, ki, mei) as well as two further forms (the suffixes ‑a or ‑ate are added) which are allomorphs of the basic form. Thus, the allomorphs of ‘i are ‘ia and ‘iate, those of ki are kia and kiate, and those of mei are meia and meiate. The distribution of the basic forms and their allomorphs is as follows: the basic forms ‘i, ki and mei are used in most cases, which is before common nouns, local nouns, demonstrative pronouns, and the interrogatives hā ‘what’ and fē ‘where’ (cf. Examples 7a and 7b). The allomorphs with the suffix ‑a (‘ia, kia and meia) occur before proper names (cf. Example 7c) and the interrogative hai ‘who’. Finally, the allomorphs with the suffix ‑ate (‘iate, kiate and meiate) occur before personal pronouns (cf. Example 7d), however, sometimes the ‑a forms are used instead (Churchward 1953: 109). (7) a.

‘Oku nofo ‘a Mela ‘i fē? ta:pres stay abs Mela spat.p:loc where Where does Mela stay/live?

b. ‘Oku nofo ‘a Mela ‘i Niutoua. ta:pres stay abs Mela spat.p:loc Niutoua Mela stays/lives in Niutoua. c.

‘Oku ou nofo ‘ia Mela. ta:pres subj:1sg stay spat.p:loc Mela I stay/live with Mela.

d. ‘Oku ou nofo ‘iate koe. ta:pres subj:1sg stay spat.p:loc 2sg I stay/live with you.

Spatial prepositional phrases mostly follow the absolutive phrase in postverbal position (cf. Examples 7a and 7b), however their position is relatively free (cf. Broschart 1994: 47, 154, 161). Apart from this, spatial prepositional phrases (mainly locative ones) can also operate as a verbal predicate if they follow the tense marker in the predicative position (cf. Examples 8 and 9) (cf. Broschart 1994: 149–151, 160, 165). (8) ‘Oku ‘i kolo ‘a Mela. ta:pres spat.p:loc town abs Mela Mela (is) in town (i.e. Nuku‘alofa). (9) ‘Oku ou mei Siamane. ta:pres subj:1sg spat.p:abl Germany I (am) from Germany.

Spatial prepositions are mainly used with verbs of motion or state (cf. Broschart 1994: 47; Bennardo 2000a: 505). ‘I-phrases describe a place of action, and thus, they often occur with verbs of state (nofo ‘to stay’ in Example 7). However, they can



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

be used with all kinds of verbs to express that something happens in a certain place (locative) as in Example 12 (cf. Broschart 1994: 143–144). Ki- and mei-phrases generally occur with verbs of motion (‘alu ‘to go’ and ha‘u ‘to come’ in Examples 10 and 11). The motion which is associated with ki specifies the goal or end of the motion (allative), whereas mei emphasises the origin or beginning of the motion (ablative). (10) Na‘a ke ‘alu ki fē? ta:past subj:2sg go spat.p:all where Where did you go? (11) ‘Oku ou ha‘u mei Siamane. ta:pres subj:1sg come spat.p:abl Germany I come from Germany. (12) ‘Oku hiva ‘a Sione ‘i he Siasi Uesiliana. ta:pres sing abs John spat.p:loc art Wesleyan Church John sings in the Wesleyan Church.

Apart from spatial reference, spatial prepositions can also occur with ­temporal meaning. The locative then describes a ‘point in time’ as in Example 13 (cf. ­Broschart 1994: 144) while the ablative is used to refer to ‘temporal origin’ (talu mei ‘since’) (cf. Churchward 1953: 111, 121; Broschart 1994: 163). (13) Te u ha‘u (‘i)4 he tolu. ta:fut subj:1sg come spat.p:loc art three I will come at three ‘o clock.

In Tongan, verbs of emotion and perception (such as ‘ofa ‘to love’ and sai‘ia ‘to like’) and verbs of ability and knowledge (such as poto ‘to be able/to know’, lava ‘to achieve’ and ngalo ‘to forget’) demand the locative. In these cases, the ‘i-phrase corresponds to the direct object in English (cf. Broschart 1994: 145–148). (14) ‘Oku ou ‘ofa ‘ia Pita. ta:pres subj:1sg love spat.p:loc Peter I love Peter.

The locative preposition is also used to introduce the second element of a ­comparison (cf. Churchward 1953: 109; Bennardo 2000a: 506). (15) ‘Oku have ange ‘a Paula ‘ia Fohe. ta:pres fast comp abs Paul spat.p:loc Fohe Paul is faster than Fohe.

.  Especially in spoken language, the preposition ‘i is mostly dropped in front of the oblique form of the specific article he (instead of e). Similarly, the preposition ki is dropped if he follows (cf. Shumway 1971: 66–67; Broschart 1994: 43).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Verbs of sensory perception (such as sio ‘to see’ and fanongo ‘to hear/to listen’) and action verbs with an addressee or recipient (such as ‘omi ‘to give’, lea ‘to speak’ and tokoni ‘to help’) demand the allative. With verbs of sensory perception, the kiphrase corresponds to a direct object in English, while the addressee or recipient is expressed by an indirect object in English (cf. Broschart 1994: 157–158; Bennardo 2000a: 506). (16) Na‘a ku sio kiate koe. ta:past subj:1sg see spat.p:all 2sg I saw you. (17) Na‘a ku tokoni ki he tamasi‘í. ta:past subj:1sg help spat.p:all art boy I helped the boy.

Verbs of communication (like fakamatala ‘to report’ and talanoa ‘to talk’) also occur with the allative describing the theme (cf. Broschart 1994: 159). (18) Na‘a ne talanoa ki he fakaafe. ta:past subj:3sg talk spat.p:all art feast He talked about the feast.

The ablative is neither used with verbs of state nor in causative expressions. In ­Tongan, the causative is expressed by a locative (‘i he ngāue ‘a … – ‘by the work of …’) (cf. Broschart 1994: 144). In combination with the allative, the ablative can also express a ‘change of state’ (cf. Bennardo 2000a: 506). (19) Te u liliu e tohi mei he lea ta:fut subj:1sg translate art letter spat.p:abl art language fakatonga ki he lea fakapilitania. Tongan spat.p:all art language English I will translate the letter from Tongan to English.

b.  Tongan directionals In Tongan, there are five adverbs used to express ‘directions’ (cf. Churchward 1953: 193). Hence, they are called ‘directionals’ (cf. Bennardo 2000a: 504). Bennardo (1999: 40) divides the directionals according to their association with spatial axes into two subsets: one set is “associated with the vertical axis” and the other set is “not necessarily associated with any axis, either vertical or horizontal”. ­Accordingly, we can list the directionals as in Table 6.3 (cf. Tchekhoff 1990: 105–106; Broschart 1995: 446; Bennardo 2000a: 506).



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

Table 6.3.  Tongan directionals ‘vertical axis’ – directionals: hake hifo mai ‘no axis’ – directionals: atu

– up or upwards – down or downwards – to or towards the discourse centre (i.e. mostly the speaker) – away from the discourse centre (i.e. mostly the speaker), towards the hearer ange – away from the discourse centre (i.e. mostly the speaker), across to a third person (neither speaker nor hearer); the discourse centre is not involved

In contrast to hifo and hake, the ‘no axis’ – directionals (mai, atu and ange) describe directions which are defined by the position of the speech act participants (speaker, hearer or third person). Although this axis is quite often associated with being horizontal, it can also be vertical. If the speaker is, for example, on top of a mountain and asks the hearer (who is down at the beach) to come up, he can use mai (to the speaker) as well as hake (up) to signal the direction in which the hearer should move (cf. Bennardo 2000a: 506–507). As Examples 20 to 24 demonstrate, the directionals occur directly after the verb and can be followed by a spatial prepositional phrase (Spat.P + NP) (cf. Bennardo 1999: 40). Generally, the spatial prepositional phrase specifies the directional. In Example 23, for instance, the spatial prepositional phrase kiate koe indicates that the addressee or hearer is 2sg. Without this specification, atu only describes ‘to the hearer’ who could be 2sg, 2dl or even 2pl if the context does not provide any specification. (20) Na‘e ‘alu hake ‘a Sione mei he loto luo vaí. ta:past go dir:up abs John spat.p:abl art waterhole (in coral) John went (returned) upwards from the waterhole. (21) Na‘a ku sio hifo ki he fonuá ta:past subj:1sg see dir:down spat.p:all art land/country lolotonga ‘eku puna he vakapuna. while poss:1sg fly art airplane I looked down to the land while I was flying. (22) ‘Omai (kiate au) ‘a e hele! bring+dir:to the speaker spat.p:all 1sg abs art knife Bring me the knife! (23) Te U tala atu (kiate koe) ‘a ta:fut subj:1sg tell dir:to hearer spat.p:all 2sg abs e talanoa. art story I will tell you the story.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

(24) Na‘e lea ange ‘a Pita kia Sione. ta:past speak dir:to third person abs Peter spat.p:all John Peter spoke to John.

Besides these standard readings (Examples 22 to 24), that is the spatial meanings, the directionals mai, atu and ange can also appear in contexts with varying and even non-spatial interpretations, as Example 25 demonstrates (cf. Tchekhoff 1990; Broschart 1995; for Tokelauan cf. Hooper 2002). In Examples 22 to 24, the discourse centre is the speaker: mai ‘to the speaker’, atu ‘away from the speaker/to the hearer’ and ange ‘away from the speaker/to a third person’. However, the speaker may also determine another discourse centre which is specified by the context (cf. Example  25). If the context of sentence 25 is “… so that I could work with it”, the discourse centre is the speaker, and consequently, kole mai means “he asked for the speaker”, but if the context is “… so that they work with it”, the discourse centre is the grammatical subject of the sentence (i.e. 3sg) and then kole mai means “he asked for himself ” (Tchekhoff 1990: 105–106). (25) Tchekhoff (cf. 1990:108): Na‘a ne kole mai meia Pita ta:past subj:3sg ask dir:to discourse centre spat.p:abl Peter ‘a e huó… abs art hoe He asked Peter for the hoe for himself (i.e. the 3sg)/for the speaker …

A similar context-sensitive meaning of mai is described by Broschart (cf. 1995:  452–453). He mentions that mai can be used to refer to the discourse topic, which again implies that the discourse centre is not the speaker but the discourse topic. Tchekhoff (1990: 107) describes a temporal meaning of the directionals.5 If a speaker uses ange instead of mai (towards the speaker) in the sentence “come to my home tomorrow”, this means that the speaker is not at home at the time of the utterance. Further non-spatial interpretations that are more based on social rather than on spatial knowledge occur in Broschart’s approach (cf. 1995: 448–450). He recounts that atu can be used with a third person to express solidarity (that is speaker and hearer act as one: mai), and if mai is used with a third person, it is a polite way to respect the third person’s power or control. Generally, even the use of a directional expresses politeness in contrast to its absence. A sentence like 22 is also possible without the directional mai (To‘o ‘a e .  Hooper (2002: 289–294) also describes such a temporal use of directionals for Tokelauan.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

hele! ‘Bring the knife!’ but it is less polite (cf. Tchekhoff 1990: 106). ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 27.3.2003) confirms this politeness aspect. He explains that “Tali!” (‘Wait!’) is less polite and sounds incomplete compared to “Tali mai!” (‘Wait for me!’). c.  Tongan spatial nouns In Tongan, there is a third group of lexical items which are used in spatial descriptions, the ‘spatial nouns’ (cf. Bennardo 2000a: 507). Bennardo (2000b: 40) defines spatial nouns in the following way: a Tongan ‘spatial noun’ is a noun that is: –– either associated to one of the three frames of reference –– or that is preposed to another noun in a structural context in which a PP is headed by one of the three Tongan spatial prepositions –– or lexicalizes as vaha‘a. As spatial nouns may occur in different syntactic contexts, Bennardo (cf. 2000b: 20) distinguishes five different types of context structures: –– –– –– –– ––

Type 1: Type 2: Type 3: Type 4: Type 5:

[Spat.P + Spat.N] [[Spat.P + Spat.N] + [Spat.P + Art + N]] [Spat.P + Spat.N + N] [Spat.P + Art + Spat.N + N] [[Spat.P + Art + Spat.N] + [Poss.P + Art + N]]

All spatial nouns, including the information on which type of context structure they can appear in (+) and in which they cannot (−), are listed in Table 6.4 (­Bennardo 2000a: 508–510). Table 6.4.  Tongan spatial nouns hahake hihifo tokelau tonga kō to‘omata‘u to‘ohema mu‘a mui

–  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  – 

east west north south yonder right left front back

Type 1

Type 2

Type 3

Type 4

Type 5

+ + + + + + + + +

− − − − − + + + +

− − − − − − − − −

− − − − − − − − −

− − − − − + + (+)* (+)*

(Continued )

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Table 6.4.  Tongan spatial nouns  (Continued) mua‘i mui‘i ‘olunga funga lalo loto tu‘a ve‘e fukahi kilisi tumu‘aki tafa‘aki fa‘ahi mata tuliki vaha‘a

–  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  – 

Type 1

Type 2

Type 3

Type 4

Type 5

− − + − + + + − − − − − − − − −

− − + − + − − − − − − − − − − −

− −

+ + − + + + + + + + + + + + + −

− − − − − − − − − − + + + + + −

front back above top below inside outside border top bottom peak side (in)side front corner space between

+ + + + − − − − − − − − −

*used to appear in this context-structure, but not anymore (cf. Bennardo 2000b: 21)

Bennardo (cf. 2000b: 22) shows that spatial nouns which appear in ‘type 1’ constructions (Example 26) are associated with the concept of ‘locus’6 because the head of the PP is a spatial preposition. (26) Bennardo (2000b: 20): ‘i mu‘a spat.p:loc spat.n:front in front

The ‘type 2’ constructions are also associated with the concept of ‘locus’ but in contrast to type 1 constructions, they are additionally associated with an ‘axis’, either vertical or horizontal. The anchor point (A) of this ‘axis’ is indicated by the second PP (‘i he fale in Example 27). The spatial constellations which are described by ‘type 1’ and ‘type 2’ constructions are characterised by the absence of ‘contact’ between ground (G) and figure (F) (cf. Bennardo 2000b: 23, 27). In both types, spatial nouns appear which .  The ‘place’ of an object is defined as “the topological (shape) SPACE it occupies”, and ‘locus’ is “the result of a projection or, more precisely, collapse of a PLACE onto any of its interior points” (Bennardo 2000b: 9).



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

are strictly connected with one of the three frames of reference, like the absolute cardinal directions and the relative ‘left-right’ axis (cf. Bennardo 2000b: 38). (27) ‘i mu‘a ‘i he fale spat.p:loc spat.n:front spat.p:loc art n:house in front of the house

In contrast to ‘type 1’ and ‘type 2’ constructions, Bennardo (cf. 2000b: 23, 25) points out that a characteristic feature of ‘type 3’ and ‘type 4’ spatial ­constellations is ‘contact’ between G and F. Consequently, these constructions are linked with the concept of ‘part’; while ‘type 3’ constructions (Example 28) describe ‘core parts’, ‘type 4’ constructions (Example 29) express ‘peripheral parts’ (cf. ­Bennardo 2000a: 511). The ‘type 3’ construction has a wider interpretation than the ‘type 4’ construction because F does not have to be located directly in the central area ‘under’, ‘on top of ’, ‘outside’, etc. G (cf. Bennardo 2000b: 26). (28) ‘i tu‘a kolo spat.p:loc spat.n:outside n:village at the outside/ends of the village (29) ‘i he mata fale spat.p:loc art spat.n:front n:house at the front part of the house

The second PP in ‘type 5’ constructions (Example 30) is headed by the O-possessed preposition ‘o (of). As we will see in Chapter 7 with regard to A- and O-­possession, O-possessed items are often characterised as ‘parts’. This affirms Bennardo’s ­characterisation of ‘type 5’ constructions as descriptions of ‘secondary parts’ (cf. Bennardo 2000a: 511; 2000b: 29–30). (30) Bennardo (2000b:20): ‘i he mata ‘o e fale spat.p:loc art spat.n:front p:poss art n:house in front of the house7

Churchward (cf. 1953:  88–92) uses a different terminology for spatial nouns although his definition is also based on context features. He defines ‘local nouns’ as nouns which occur without an article after a spatial preposition, such as mui in ki mui (to a place behind/to the back). This structure (PP: spat.P + local N) .  This example should be translated as ‘at the front part of the house’ to stress that the spatial noun mata describes a part of the noun fale (that is a place near the entrance) which is characteristic for ‘type 5’ constructions.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

corresponds to Bennardo’s ‘type 1’ and ‘type 2’ constructions. However, apart from the spatial nouns that occur in ‘type 1’ and ‘type 2’ constructions, ­Churchward also summarises numerous other nouns under the category ‘local nouns’ as they can also occur in the same structural context (i.e. without an article after a spatial preposition): proper place names and landmarks such as mo‘unga ‘mountain’, Fisi ‘Fiji’ and fale ‘house’, as well as temporal nouns (for example Sānuali ‘January’ and ‘aneafi ‘yesterday’). This results from the fact that ­Tongan spatial prepositions do not only describe ‘local points’ but also ‘­temporal points’ (cf. §6.3). Most of Bennardo’s ‘type 3’ and ‘type 4’ spatial nouns (cf. Table 6.4) are called ‘preposed nouns’ by Churchward (cf. 1953: 214–216).8 He defines a preposed noun as “a noun which is placed immediately before another noun instead of being connected with it by means of a preposition” (Churchward 1953: 214). If we compare this definition with Bennardo’s five types of context structures, the spatial nouns are only used as preposed nouns in ‘type 3’ and ‘type 4’ constructions (i.e. the spatial noun and the noun describing G occur within the same PP). For some ‘preposed nouns’, Churchward (1953:  216–217) notes that they can also be followed by the possessive preposition ‘o. This context-structure is comparable with Bennardo’s ‘type 5’ construction. In both approaches, tumu‘aki ‘peak’, mata ‘front’ and tafa‘aki ‘side’ belong to this kind of nouns. However, Churchward’s list still contains some further nouns such as mui ‘back, end’ and funga ‘top’ which – according to Bennardo (2000a: 511) – cannot be used in type 5 constructions any more. In the following, I will use Bennardo’s terminology (i.e. spatial nouns) as well as his classification of these lexical items because it seems to be better structured. Certain Tongan spatial nouns such as mu‘a and mata have the same English translation, which in this case is ‘front’. However, they can be distinguished by the context structures in which they occur (mu‘a in ‘type 1’, ‘type 2’ and formerly also ‘type 5’ constructions and mata in ‘type 4’ and ‘type 5’ constructions; cf. Table 6.4). During my own field research, ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 27.3.2003) gave a slightly different explanation for this distinction which is actually based on context structures also: mu‘a “stands by itself ”, while mata only “occurs in combination with a word like fale ‘house’, kolo ‘village’, etc”. In accordance with Bennardo’s context structures, mu‘a stands by itself in

.  Broschart (cf. 1997: 287) even proposes a further terminology for Bennardo’s ‘type 3’ and ‘type 4’ spatial nouns: ‘locative classifiers’.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

‘type 1’, ‘type 2’ and ‘type 5’ constructions, i.e. it is not followed by another noun within the same PP. In the case of mata, ‘Aisea Hingano’s explanation is less precise. Mata occurs in combination with a further noun in ‘type 3’ and ‘type 4’ constructions but actually, ­according to Bennardo, mata is only correct in ‘type 4’ and ‘type 5’ constructions. Bennardo does not mention that some spatial nouns which occur in ‘type 3’ and ‘type 4’ constructions can also occur without being followed by a further noun (Example 31). Yet, in this case, they have a restricted meaning. This means that some of the spatial nouns still have nominal function and then describe body parts: mata ‘face, eye’, tu‘a ‘back’, ve‘e (va‘e) ‘foot’, funga ‘lap’, loto ‘spiritual heart, will’ etc. (cf. Broschart 1997: 298). (31) Ko e mata. pr art face, eye (It is) the head/eye.

It is linguistically prevalent that bodypart lexemes get used in an extended, grammaticalised context. They are transferred from describing particular parts of the body (ego-centric) to the description of analogical parts of inanimate objects (intrinsic) and even general spatial areas (cf. Foley 1997:  188–190). This grammatical extension of body parts into spatial markers obviously occurred in Tongan. It becomes apparent looking at the example of mata: ‘head/face’ (­Example  31)  ‘front part of ’ (Examples  29 and 30). A further grammatical extension would be ‘in front of ’ but it is not found in Tongan. Example 27 shows that in this context (‘type 1’ and ‘type 2’ constructions not describing parts) mu‘a is used instead of mata. However, for tu‘a, Tongan shows the whole range of grammatical extensions in spatial descriptions: ‘back’ (body part)  ‘back part’ (part-whole relation)  ‘behind’ (general spatial marker). Concerning the semantics of the cardinal directions, it is remarkable that hahake ‘east’ and hihifo ‘west’ are partly reduplicated forms of the directionals hake ‘up’ and hifo ‘down’. This linguistic derivation appears in several languages in this area of the Pacific (cf. §6.2.). While a lot of approaches trace this correlation to the path of the sun (‘up’ is associated with sunrise and ‘down’ with sunset), alternative approaches mention the prevailing winds in this region (coming from the east/ south-east) as an underlying reference system (‘up’ associated with upwind and ‘down’ with downwind). The actual use of the cardinal directions is linked to the path of the sun, just like our cardinal directions. However, Ross’ reconstruction of Proto-Oceanic supports the hypothesis that the cardinal directions were once based on the prevailing winds; tokelau ‘north’ probably derived from Proto-Oceanic

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

*tokalau(r), meaning ‘northwest storm wind (?)’ (Ross 1995: 282). This is certainly possible since the cardinal directions describe quadrants rather than single points. Moreover, the coordinate system may have been turned slightly at some time in correspondence with the winds.

6.4  The use of different frames of reference in Tongan In this section, I will analyse which frames of reference are used in Tongan; first, to perceive space on a non-linguistic (cognitive) level, and second, to linguistically describe spatial constellations or movement in space. Within the scope of the psycholinguistics research group in Nijmegen, Bennardo has carried out several investigations on Tongan spatial descriptions (cf. Senft 1994:  415; Bennardo 1999, 2000a; 2000b). Besides Bennardo, Broschart has also analysed different aspects of lexical items describing space. However, none of these approaches contains a non-linguistic investigation of spatial perception. ­Therefore, this section is mainly based on data from my own field research in Tonga. The following non-linguistic and linguistic investigations took place in ­Niutoua on the island of Tongatapu. For a better understanding of this data ­analysis, it is prudent to start with a detailed description of the geography of the village of Niutoua from the point of view of its inhabitants. 6.4.1  Spatial representation of Niutoua In order to find out how the map of Niutoua is anchored in the minds of the inhabitants, the informants were asked to draw a map of Niutoua and to name the important places (exercise 2 of the inquiry). Even though it is impossible to entirely represent inner mental maps with twodimensional drawings, these graphical representations can still provide a valuable insight into spatial cognition and orientation (cf. Wassmann 1997: 143–144). Like most villages on Tongatapu, Niutoua is located close to the sea. Although Tongatapu is a flat coral island (cf. §3.3 for a more detailed island description) the village land descends towards the sea (especially in the area between the coast and the Hala Taufa‘ahau). As Niutoua is located on the north coast of the island, the ‘landwards-seawards’ or ‘up-down’ axis corresponds to the ‘south-north’ axis. The key elements included by almost all of the Niutouan informants in their drawings of the village are shown in Map 6.1.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

NIUTOUA ki‘uta

E N

Hala Liku mangafā

W

Hala taufa‘ahau ‘olunga (up)

ki kolo/ Nuku‘alofa

lalo (down) legend

tahi

tahi (sea) hala (street) mangafā (crossroads) ki kolo (to town) ki‘uta (to the bush)

‘EUEIKI (island)

siasi (churches) fa‘itoka (cemetery) ‘api ako (primary school) Ha‘amoga (ancient monument) Tuitui ‘a Tamāle (fine sand) mala‘e vainga (playground) holo fakakolo (town hall)

Map 6.1.  Mental map of Niutoua (exercise 2 of the inquiry)

The big crossroads in the middle of Niutoua is the most important point of orientation for nearly all the informants. This is expressed by the fact that the crossroads is included in all individual maps and that informants started drawing their maps from this point. Starting from the crossroads, almost all maps show that the streets lead to the bush in the south, down to the beach in the north, and westwards to town (the capital Nuku‘alofa). At the edge of the village, the street towards the east turns into a small bush path ending at the sea further ahead. However, the informants

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

never labelled the east ‘bush’ or ‘beach’. If the Niutouan people speak about tahi ‘sea, beach’, they generally mean the one in the north, and if they speak about ‘uta ‘bush’, it is usually the one in the south where most Niutouans have their ‘api ‘uta ‘bush allotment’. However, there are a few ‘api ‘uta in the east and the west as well, but these areas are always referred to in a much more specific way (‘api ‘uta ‘o Mela ‘Mela’s bush land’; ‘uta ofi atu ki he Ha‘amonga ‘the bush next to the Ha‘amonga’). In addition to these points of orientation, many informants included in their map of Niutoua proper place names and landmarks that are important for the whole village (cf. §1.3.2) and especially for themselves: –– smaller paths, –– the primary school, –– the Ha‘amonga Trilithon (an ancient monument made of big coral stones in the shape of a gate; a famous place belonging to Niutoua), –– churches (most individual maps only show the church to which the informants themselves belong and not all the churches of Niutoua as in the map above), –– the cemeteries, –– a place of extremely fine white sand (Tuitui ‘a Tamale; for which Niutoua is famed; according to myth, it can only be found there), –– their own ‘api (village allotment; mostly the place where the interviews were carried out) and those of friends or relatives (and sometimes even of villagers that the interviewee considered important to me), –– the ‘api of important people of the village (like the chief, the town officer and church ministers), –– some shops. 6.4.2  Non-linguistic perception of space To gather at least some information about the non-verbal spatial perception of my informants, the inquiry contains one non-linguistic experiment (exercise 3). This experiment is based on the concept that was developed by psycholinguists in Nijmegen (as demonstrated in Figure 6.4). However, it was important to choose another stimulus pattern (instead of the arrow) as will become a­ pparent below. Of course, only one non-linguistic experiment does not provide sufficient information to make representative statements, but it was not possible to extend the size of the inquiry due to the informants’ decreasing patience and endurance with regard to answer long questionnaires seriously and attentively. However, this one experiment shows us at least a tendency of how space is cognitively perceived, that is which frame of reference is used by most of the informants.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

The informant is shown a stimulus pattern (a triangle next to a square) which they are asked to memorise in this constellation. After about 30 seconds, they have to turn around (180°). There, the informant sees four different patterns of which they are asked to point out the one which they memorised before (cf. Figure 6.5). One pattern consists of a square to the right of a triangle whose peak is pointing away from the informant (C). This represents a relative perception (‘left-right’ and ‘away from-towards’ the speaker). A second pattern representing an absolute perception (cardinal directions or ‘up-down’ axis) shows a square southwards of a triangle whose peak is pointing to the east or a square upwards of a triangle respectively (B). The other two patterns, one with two triangles (A) and the other with two squares (D), are added to the experiment for control reasons. They should guarantee that the informants really memorise a triangle and a square which are arranged in a certain constellation to each other. up

S E

W down left

right

N A

B

C

D right

left

180° rotation

Figure 6.5.  Underlying design of the non-linguistic experiment (exercise 3 of the inquiry)

The choice of these two geometrical figures as stimulus patterns (especially the triangle) instead of Levinson’s arrow (cf. Figure 6.4) is of significant importance. Based on the cognitive maps (cf. Map 6.1) and first observations of spatial reference in Niutoua (cf. §6.2 for Oceanic languages in general), it becomes apparent that the informants use two absolute frames of reference: the cardinal directions

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

and the ‘up-down’ (or ‘landwards-seawards’) axis. As the ‘up-down’ axis correlates with the ‘south-north’ axis, it is possible that for these two directions the absolute orientation is more important than for the ‘east-west’ axis (which only correlates with an undifferentiated traverse). The arrow pattern shows only two-dimensional characteristics, and consequently, it is possible that the absolute system is used if the arrow is pointing ‘upwards’ (south) or ‘downwards’ (north) but not if it is pointing eastwards or westwards. This would be the case if the ‘up-down’ reference system is more important than the cardinal directions. In order to avoid getting information that solely depends on the direction of a two-dimensional pattern, a three-dimensional pattern is chosen: square and triangle on one axis and the peak of the triangle versus its flat basic side on the other axis. To get even more detailed information about which reference system is used to memorise spatial constellation, the informants are asked to explain how they memorised the pattern after the experiment. The non-linguistic experiment has shown that most of the 25 informants (13) use a relative frame of reference (C) to memorise spatial constellations. About half as many (7) use the absolute frame of reference (B). The other five informants cannot clearly be assigned to a particular cognitive frame of reference; two of these informants answered in a more absolute manner (B) and two in a more relative manner (C) but none of them appeared to really understand the exercise. Finally, one of the informants was not able to complete the interview and thus did not participate in the non-linguistic experiment. Consequently only 20 informants are taken into consideration for the results presented in Table 6.5. All informants (13) who used the relative frame of reference memorised ‘the triangle on the left and the square on the right side’ (‘left-right’ axis).9 Most informants (4) who used absolute reference points mentioned the sea (tahi) and thus the ‘updown’ axis as a reference system: ‘the triangle downwards, towards the sea’.10 Other absolute reference points used were landmarks, such as the house in front of where the inquiry took place (twice: ‘the triangle towards the house’11) or the street next to where the inquiry took place (once: ‘the triangle towards the street’12). Although in Niutoua the ‘up-down’ axis corresponds to the ‘south-north’ axis, nobody explicitly mentioned cardinal directions as absolute reference points of this experiment. This shows that – at least for small-scale orientation within the village – the ‘up-down’ axis or other landmarks are more important than cardinal directions. .  Interviewees 1, 3, 4, 7, 8, 11, 12, 13, 14, 18, 19, 23 and 24. .  Interviewees 15, 17, 20 and 21. .  Interviewees 16 and 22. .  Interviewee 9.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

Table 6.5  Use of the different frames of reference for non-linguistic spatial perception 3/20

0/20

4/20

13/20

relative (left; right) absolute (down, towards the sea) absolute (other landmarks) absolute (cardinal directions)

The inquiry (question 31 and exercise 3) also shows the tendency that people with less or no English knowledge use the absolute frame of reference (3 of 4) while those with very good English knowledge tend to use the relative frame of reference (3 of 4). An explanation may be that the relative frame of reference, which is mainly used by Indo-Europeans to recognise and describe spatial constellations, has been adopted by some Tongans from the English language. However, there are also informants with good English knowledge who memorised spatial constellations in an absolute way, and some with little English knowledge who memorised spatial constellations in a relative way. Further, it may have been relevant for the informants that I (i.e. the interviewer) am European and thus more relatively orientated, and that they tried to make the spatial constellation comprehensible for me. 6.4.3  Spatial descriptions Instead of the ‘director/matcher language games’ (cf. §6.1.) which were used by the Nijmegen group to obtain language data about the coding of space, this investigation is based on four different kinds of route descriptions which were part of the inquiry (exercise 4): –– –– –– ––

one short distance description within the village (overland route), one long distance description on the island of Tongatapu (overland route), one sea route description to the island of ‘Eueiki13 (within sight), and one sea route description to the island of Ha‘ano (out of sight).14

.  This small island is visible from Niutoua (cf. Map 6.1). .  This last sea route description was added during the second field research period to determine if the use of seamarks would increase if the described sea route is longer and the destination island (Ha‘ano, an island in the Ha‘apai group) is not visible from the starting point of the description (Nuitoua, the place where the inquiry was held). During the first field research period, 25 informants participated in the inquiry (route descriptions 1–3) but not all these informants were available during the second field research period. Therefore a representative group (according to sex, age, English knowledge and non-linguistic spatial orientation) of 8 informants (Interviewee 3, 5, 8, 9, 10, 19, 24 and 25) were asked to give the fourth route description.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

The distinction between ‘large-scale’ (long distance) and ‘small-scale’ (short ­distance) descriptions is made to address Bennardo’s findings (cf. 2000a: 519–529) that Tongans make use of the frames of reference to a different extent for ‘large-scale’ versus ‘small-scale’ space on land. The ‘navigational scale’ (i.e. sea route descriptions) is added to the spatial investigation to find out whether space in the context of interisland distances and seafaring is perceived and described differently vis-à-vis space on land (cf. §6.2 for spatial descriptions in Oceanic languages). The ‘director/matcher language games’ do not provide this kind of distinctive material for different scales, and exercise 4 of the inquiry was developed to address this lack. Moreover, the interviews took place between myself (the interviewer) and the interviewee, mostly without any further person around who could have functioned as a ‘matcher’ (the interviewee being the ‘director’). This would have been difficult to organise as the interviews were carried out spontaneously ­whenever the interviewee was around and ready to participate (cf. §1.2). In general, informants use different kinds of linguistic means to express ­spatial constellations and movement in space. In addition to the three groups of lexical items introduced in Section 6.3 (spatial prepositions, directional and ­spatial nouns), proper place names, landmarks and demonstratives also occured in spatial descriptions.15

.  The demonstratives which occur after spatial prepositions are (cf. Churchward 1953: 150–151): heni ‘here, where the speaker is’, hena ‘there, were the hearer is’ and hē ‘there, to where the speaker is pointing’. This tripartite system is similar to the tripartite system of the ‘no axis’ directionals mai, atu and ange: one refers to the centre (mostly the speaker), one to the hearer and one to a third place. Example (i) shows the use of a spatial preposition in combination with a demonstrative.

(i)

Interview 2:

… te u ‘alu ai mei heni ki Fua‘amotu. ta:fut subj:1sg go continue spat.p:abl dem:here spat.p:all Fua‘amotu … I will go on from here to Fua‘amotu. In Example (i), a proper place name also occurs, the village name Fua‘amotu. Other proper place names and landmarks which are used in the spatial descriptions are island names and general descriptions of places, like kolo ‘town’ which mostly means the capital Nuku‘alofa, uafu ‘wharf ’, mangafā ‘crossroads’, etc. These proper place names and landmarks mostly occur within a spatial prepositional phrase (Example ii).

(ii)

Interview 1:

… ‘alu ki mangafā, … go spat.p:all landmark.n:crossroads go to the crossroads …



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

These lexical items or combinations of them can be assigned to the different frames of reference which were defined in Section 6.1. Before analysing the use of the different frames of reference, that is the occurrence of various reference systems in the different kinds of spatial descriptions given by informants, I will present how each of the three frames of reference (relative, absolute and intrinsic) can generally be encoded in Tongan. 6.4.3.1  Linguistic realisation of the frames of reference a.  Absolute frame of reference According to Bennardo (2000a: 515–516) and my own field research data, the absolute frame of reference is realised linguistically in spatial nouns describing cardinal directions (tokelau ‘north’, hahake ‘east’, tonga ‘south’, hihifo ‘west’) and other nouns describing landmarks which also serve as fixed reference points, such as tahi ‘sea’, ‘uta ‘bush, inland’ or kolo ‘town’. In Niutoua, the ‘towards the sea-away from the sea’ axis corresponds noticeably to a typical landscape characteristic: the land descends towards the sea to the beach which is the lowest point of the village, and it ascends in the opposite direction away from the sea (cf. Map 6.1). Consequently, this axis is also expressed by the spatial nouns lalo ‘below’ and ‘olunga ‘above’ and the directionals hifo ‘down’ and hake ‘up’. Thus, there are two absolute reference systems: the cardinal directions and an ‘inland-seaward’ or ‘up-down’ axis which is characteristic for Oceanic languages (cf. §6.2). Bennardo (2000a: 516) mentions lalo as a realisation of an absolute frame of reference but he forgets to mention its counterpart ‘olunga in this context. As the opposite direction of lalo or tahi, Bennardo offers ‘uta ‘bush, inland’.16 This is also the case in Niutoua as the area which is mainly described as ‘uta lies from the village perspective in the opposite direction of tahi (cf. Map 6.1). Bennardo further mentions kolo ‘town, village’ as the opposite pole to ‘uta. However, this opposition does not occur in the Niutouan data as the interviews took place in the village itself, and consequently, kolo (i.e. Niutoua) in this context lying in the middle of the axis in between ‘uta and tahi, cannot serve as reference pole. The map of Niutoua further shows that the second direction described as kolo, which points .  The terms Kauhala‘uta (kau is a collective marker, hala ‘road’, ‘uta ‘bush’) for the Tu‘i Tonga line and Kauhalalalo (lalo ‘below’) for the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua and Tu‘i Kanokupolu lines (cf. §2.2.2) derive from the spatial residence pattern in Mu‘a, the ancient capital. The Tu‘i Tonga lived on the bush or inland side of the road while the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua’s residence was on the opposite lower side of the road, i.e. towards the sea (cf. Bott 1982: 79). This spatial pattern could even be interpreted in a symbolic way (cf. §3.5.2); the higher ranked Tu‘i Tonga was associated with a higher or upper place of residence while the lower ranked Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua in the societal hierarchy lived in a lower place.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

towards the capital of Nuku’alofa, is not at all applicable as an opposition to ‘uta; it lies westwards of Niutoua while ‘uta and ‘olunga point southwards which really lies in the opposite direction of tahi in the north. Therefore, in my research data kolo does not appear as an equivalent to ‘olunga or ‘uta. The cardinal directions can be used in two different ways; either with the ­causative prefix faka- which transforms the noun or adjective into an adverb (Example 32) or the spatial noun tokelau ‘north’ which is part of a spatial prepositional phrase (Example 33). Both examples express directions, although tokelau (cf. Example 33) could also describe a location. (32) Interview 4: … ‘alu fakatokelau, … go adv:north … go northwards … (33) Interview 4: … ‘alu ki he tokelau, … go spat.p:all art spat.n:north … go to the North …

If the fixed reference point is a landmark instead of a cardinal direction, we mostly find the same linguistic structure as in Example 33. In Example 34, the landmark is the beach, and in Example (ii) it is the crossroads. (34) Interview 11: … afe ki he tahi turn spat.p:all art landmark.n:sea … turn to/towards the sea

The following Examples (35 and 36) demonstrate that the landmark tahi ‘sea’ can also be replaced by the spatial noun lalo ‘below’. Furthermore, the ‘up-down’ axis can also be expressed by the directionals hifo ‘down’ and hake ‘up’ which reinforce the meaning of the postposed spatial prepositional phrase. As coordinates of the absolute reference system, ‘uta and tahi are not just landmarks but directions of the ‘up-down’ axis. This becomes apparent in Examples 34 and 35 in which ki (he) tahi refers to the direction ‘towards the sea’ and not to the location ‘(to the) sea’ as the goal of the movement. (35) Interview 15: … hifo ki tahi, … dir:down spat.p:all landmark.n:beach … (go) down to/towards the beach …



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

(36) Interview 14: … hifo ki lalo, … dir:down spat.p:all spat.n:below … (go) down to/towards below …

A further possibility is to combine the landmark (tahi or in Example 37 ‘uta) in a compound with another noun (hala ‘street’) which is specified by the landmark. As Tongan does not distinguish between lexical parts of speech (cf. §1.4), ‘uta can in this context also be regarded as an adjective (cf. Churchward 1959:  573). In Example 38 it functions as a noun within a second spatial prepositional phrase. (37) Interview 19: afe ‘i he hala ‘uta … turn spat.p:loc art n:street n:bush turn at the bush street/the street leading to/through the bush…17 (38) Interview 20: (‘i) he hala ki ‘uta spat.p:loc art n:street spat.p:all n:bush (go) on the street to the bush

b.  Relative frame of reference The realisation of the relative frame of reference in Tongan is based on the ‘left (to‘ohema)-right (to‘omata‘u)’ and the ‘front (mu‘a)-back (mui)’ axes which have their reference point in ego, i.e. the speaker (cf. Bennardo 2000a: 512). During the route descriptions, the reference point does not remain the speaker’s physical position, i.e. the place where the informant is situated at the time of the interview. His physical position is only the reference point at the beginning of his description. Afterwards, the informant continues his description as if he is mentally following the route while describing it. This means that the reference point moves but actually remains in the virtual position of the speaker (a relative perspective) and also the hearer who mentally follows the described directions. The four spatial nouns (to‘ohema, to‘omata‘u, mu‘a and mui) generally occur in a PP which is headed by a spatial preposition in ‘type 1’ and ‘type 2’ constructions, as demonstrated in Example 39 (cf. Bennardo 2000a: 514). (39) Bennardo (cf. 2000a: 509):18 ‘i mu‘a spat.p:loc spat.n:front in front

.  The proper name of the street is Hala Liku meaning ‘cliff-bound coast road’ so that hala ‘uta is a spatial description and not a proper name although it is syntactically identical. .  as Example (26).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

However, in the spatial descriptions that I collected, to‘ohema (or abbreviated hema) and to‘omata‘u are mostly used with the prefix faka- (Example 40) which transforms the noun into an adverb (cf. Churchward 1953: 253) and in this case makes the description less precise (‘leftwards/sort of left’ compared to ‘to the left’). In some cases, the informants even drop the prefix faka- and still use it in the same way as with the prefix, that is as a spatial adverb and not as a spatial noun in a prepositional phrase (Example 41). (40) Interview 10: … afe fakato‘ohema, … turn adv:left … turn leftwards/sort of left … (41) Interview 23: … afe to‘omata‘u turn right … turn right

If the place where the direction changes (in Example 42: ‘turn right’) is specified, this reference object is added in the form of a postposed prepositional phrase (in Example 42: ‘at the house of Manusiale’). (42) Interview 2: … afe fakato‘omata‘u (‘i) he ‘api ‘o Manusiale turn adv:right spat.p:loc art allotment p:poss Manusiale … turn rightwards/sort of right at the allotment of Manusiale

To‘ohema and to‘omata‘u can also function as adjectives as can be seen in Example 43. (43) Interview 22: muimui19 ai pē (‘i) he hala to‘omata‘u follow continue spat.p:loc art n:street adj:right continue following (on) the right street/street to the right

In addition to the ‘left-right’ axis, the informants use a further axis, the ‘front-back’ axis, although mu‘a and mui hardly occur in their descriptions. Instead, the informants use the adverb hangatonu ‘straight’ to express a direction which continues in front of the interviewee’s (mental) position (Example 44). (44)

Interview 7: ‘alu hangatonu go adv:straight go straight

.  Muimui ‘follow’ is a reduplication of mui ‘back’. Consequently, ‘follow’ is regarded as ‘go behind one’s back’.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

As informants do not stick to one frame of reference, linguistic realisations of both a relative frame of reference and absolute one may sometimes be combined in one spatial expression (Examples 45 and 46). In both examples, hangatonu ‘straight’ can only be understood from the relative position of the person who is following the route but hifo ‘down’ and lalo ‘below’ in Example  45 designate the absolute direction ‘towards the beach’ which corresponds to ‘towards the north’ in Niutoua. In Example  46, the absolute frame of reference is realised by the prepositional phrase including the landmark mala‘e vakapuna ‘airport’. (45) Interview 5: hangatonu hifo ai pē ‘i lalo adv:straight dir:down continue spat.p:loc spat.n:below continue (going) straight down (in below) (46) Interview 19: … ‘alu hangatonu ai ki mala‘e vakapuna go adv:straight continue spat.p:all airport … ‘continue going straight to the airport

c.  Intrinsic frame of reference The intrinsic frame of reference is semantically and morphosyntactically represented in a similar way to the relative frame of reference, that is by a prepositional phrase including the spatial nouns to‘ohema ‘left’, to‘omata‘u ‘right’, mu‘a ‘front’ or mui ‘back’. The difference is that the coordinate system is no longer centred on ego but the reference point of the axes is another object (G) different from ego (the speaker). G is added in the form of a second prepositional phrase following the first (cf. Bennardo 2000a: 514–515). Compared to the relative and absolute frames of reference, the intrinsic one is hardly used in the route descriptions of my data. Example 47 shows a typical use of an intrinsic reference system. It repeatedly occurred when my host family and I were driving in the car. The one-year-old son always came to sit with us in the front but his mother was afraid he might get injured if she had to brake suddenly. She therefore told him ‘to go to the back’. As we were sitting in the car, the context implied that she meant the intrinsic back of the car (i.e. the car as the reference point). Consequently, the second prepositional phrase in Example 47 was mostly omitted. (47) ‘Alu ki mui ([‘i ] he kā)! go spat.p:all spat.n:back spat.p:loc art car Go to the back of the car!

The interview material provides a further interesting case of an intrinsic frame of reference (Example 48). This route description from the informant’s house to the village playground was given while we (the informant and I) were sitting next to

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

a house from where the informant’s own house was out of sight. As the starting point of the route description (the informant’s own house) was not visible from the informant’s actual location (the place of the interview), he could not point to any place or direction but had to describe it. The spatial situation during his ­description was as shown in Figure 6.6.

x

left (of house)

back (of house)

front (of house)

right (of house) Figure 6.6.  Spatial situation during the description of Example 48

The informant and I were sitting at x where the informant was facing the big crossroads. Following the small road (marked by a big arrow), his route description shows the shortest way from his own house ( ) to the village playground ( ). Consequently, mata ‘front’ describes the intrinsic front of the house, and accordingly, to‘omata‘u ‘right’ has to be understood from the intrinsic house perspective also. From the informant’s relative perspective at the time of the route description, ‘right’ is pointing to the opposite direction so that a relative reading of Example 48 is impossible if the aim is to reach the village playground. Thus, the house and not the speaker is the reference point of the coordinate system in Example 48. (48) Interview 22: ‘alu fakato‘omata‘u mei homau mata-fale go adv:right spat.p:abl poss:1excl.pl spat.n:front-n:house Go rightwards from the front of our house.

Based on Bennardo’s categorisation of spatial nouns (cf. §6.3), there are some additional conclusions which can be drawn concerning the intrinsic frame of reference. The spatial nouns which occur in ‘type 3’, ‘type 4’ or ‘type 5’ constructions, such as mata ‘front’ in Example 48 (‘type 4’ construction), describe ‘parts’. To be more specific the spatial noun describes an intrinsic part of the second noun (G) in the linguistic construction, such as fale ‘house’ in Example 48. This second noun is the relatum and also the reference point of the coordinate system which is



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

c­ haracteristic for an intrinsic frame of reference. Consequently, Bennardo’s ‘type 3’, ‘type 4’ and ‘type 5’ constructions are generally intrinsic.20 The evidence that a construction like mata-fale is always intrinsic and thus can never represent a relative frame of reference is given by another investigation (exercise 1 of the inquiry). The informants were asked to draw a ground plan of their house with spatial inscriptions such as mata-fale. Most ­Tongan houses have several entrances, but generally, only the side with the main entrance (which is mostly facing the street) is described as mata-fale. Several interviews took place behind the house and informants refused to use matafale for the position between them and the house although from their relative perspective it was the ‘front’. A special interview with Manako Folau (10.10.2004) on this subject demonstrates this in detail. Figure 6.7 shows the spatial situation of this interview. x

1 main entrance

hala (street)

fale (house)

2

y

3 Figure 6.7.  Spatial situation of the interview

While the interviewee and I were sitting next to the house (at x), he explained which spatial descriptions are considered appropriate for the situation and which reading of the spatial expression is correct and which is not. Mata-fale only describes the area ‘at/around the front part of the house’, that is the main entrance (intrinsic ‘front’ of the house), but not area 1 which is ‘in front of ’ the house from our relative perspective (viewpoint x). To refer to area 1 (as well as area 3), he would use tafa‘aki-fale ‘at/around the side part of the house’ which describes the intrinsic sides of the house. Only to distinguish area 1 from area 3, he adds a ­further spatial

.  ‘Ungatea Fonua Kata (personal communication, 29.11.2004) has confirmed my hypothesis that those spatial nouns that are always followed by a second noun only have intrinsic readings: the spatial noun describes the intrinsic part of the second noun (G) depending on the shape of G.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

prepositional phrase (Spat.P + Dem./Spat.N) which specifies the ‘side’ according to his relative point of view: –– area 1: –– area 3:

‘i he tafa‘aki fale ki heni ‘at the side part of the house to here (i.e. towards speaker/x)’ ‘i he tafa‘aki fale ki kō ‘at the side part of the house to yonder (i.e. away from speaker and hearer/ away from x)’

Finally, he also uses tu‘a-fale only to refer to the ‘intrinsic back part of the house’ (area 2) but not to describe the area at/around the main entrance which would be the ‘back side of the house’ from the relative perspective at viewpoint y. 6.4.3.2  Linguistic use of the frames of reference In this section, the Niutouan spatial descriptions will be analysed according to which frame of reference is used linguistically to describe directions on the various scales. a.  On a ‘large-scale’ (long distance descriptions on land) The long distance descriptions on the island of Tongatapu consist almost exclusively of landmark details. Most of these landmarks are village names, streets and crossroads. This absolute spatial orientation is supplemented by a few relative elements, mostly hangatonu ‘straight’ but also to‘ohema ‘left’ and to‘omata‘u ‘right’. Absolute coordinates, like cardinal directions or the ‘up-down’ axis, do not occur in long distance descriptions; only one of 25 descriptions contains a single cardinal direction. As Tongatapu is a low and flat coral island without remarkable differences in altitude (cf. §3.3), it is not surprising that ‘up’ and ‘down’ are not used in this kind of description. These results do not quite confirm Bennardo’s findings (cf. 2000a: 519–529, 537) which are based on linguistic descriptions of spatial constellations between ‘figure’ and ‘ground object’. His approach has shown that cardinal directions occur more in situations in which the figure is invisible (his definition of ‘large-scale’!) rather than in constellations in which it is visible (his definition of small-scale!).21 Thus, there is a shift from relative to absolute coordinates as visibility decreases. In the Niutouan investigation, the destination of a spatial description was invisible for the informant in ‘large-scale’ (island level) as well as in ‘small-scale’

.  Taking this into consideration, it is possible that the Niutouan informants did not use the cardinal directions (absolute frame of reference) for cognitive coding because the figure (square or triangle) was visible in this spatial constellation (cf. §6.4.2).



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

(village level) descriptions. Therefore, the data of both investigations is ultimately not comparable. b.  On a ‘small-scale’ (short distance descriptions on land) The short distance descriptions within the village of Niutoua also contain some landmarks. If we compare these landmarks in the spatial descriptions with the cognitive village maps that the informants drew (cf. §6.4.1.), the landmarks are identical with those that the informants included in their maps on the described route (that is the crossroads, streets, different houses, the beach, the cemetery, the town hall and churches). This obviously shows a strong correlation between language and cognition. Besides the landmarks, there are more linguistic elements representing an absolute frame of reference in these short distance descriptions. These are the directionals hifo and hake and the spatial nouns lalo and ‘olunga which all describe the ‘up-down’ axis. Some informants even added the landmarks that represent the ‘up-down’ axis (i.e. ‘inland’ versus ‘sea’) or they combined the directional with the corresponding landmark or spatial noun: hifo ki tahi ‘down towards the beach’ or hifo ki lalo ‘down towards below’. Even the use of only the landmark ki tahi ‘towards the beach’ represents the ‘up-down’ axis because this landmark is used to indicate a direction while the other landmarks are points on the described route. This shows that there are different linguistic possibilities for expressing the ‘up-down’ axis. In this context, it is remarkable that the absolute axis is only used for short distance descriptions within the village. The cardinal directions which also represent an absolute frame of reference hardly occur in the short distance descriptions. Further, the relative ‘left (to‘ohema)-right (to‘omata‘u)’ axis occurs mainly in the short distance descriptions, such as the absolute ‘up-down’ axis. c.  On a ‘navigational scale’ (across the sea: destination in sight) The sea route descriptions to other islands are of particular interest because a sea route description is unlikely to be based upon landmarks which occur in land-based route descriptions. Therefore the question is will these be replaced by seamarks. In the case of the island of ‘Eueiki, a characteristic seamark could be the reef (hakau) since ‘Eueiki is the only one of the smaller islands around Tongatapu which is located outside the reef. However, no informant used any seamark in this sea route description. A further expectation was the use of the ‘up-down’ axis (i.e. the extension of the local village axis to the sea) as ‘Eueiki is visible from Niutoua and located in the ‘downwards’ direction. However, neither the ‘up-down’ axis nor the ‘upwinddownwind’ variant (as characteristic for Oceanic languages on a navigational scale; cf. §6.2) occurred in these sea route descriptions.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Characteristic of the sea route descriptions to ‘Eueiki is nearly all informants’ use of two landmarks: the beach of Niutoua or of ‘Afā, or the wharf of Nuku’alofa as starting points and ‘Eueiki as the goal of the route. In addition to these two ­spatial points, they all contain information about the means of transportation, such as ‘i ha vaka ‘in a boat’, (‘i) he ki‘i vaka ‘in the small boat’ or (‘i) ha popao ‘in a canoe’. This information is specific to sea route descriptions, because in contrast to land routes, it is nearly impossible to complete a sea route without any means of transportation. As the island of ‘Eueiki is visible from Niutoua, most informants describe the direction between the starting point and ‘Eueiki as hangatonu ‘straight’. In fact, if one stands at the beach of Niutoua or ‘Afā and faces the sea, ‘Eueiki is not leftwards nor rightwards but straight ahead. However, this is not a precise description of the direction. Some informants even use hangatonu for the route description ­starting at the wharf in Nuku’alofa, although from this perspective, some islands are straight ahead but not ‘Eueiki. Actually, ‘Eueiki is located towards the ­northeast of Tongatapu and is even out of sight from Nuku’alofa (cf. Map 1.3). The relative ‘left-right’ axis does not occur in these sea route descriptions. The more precise sea route descriptions all contain absolute cardinal directions to specify the direction between the starting point and ‘Eueiki. In this context it is interesting that not only do informants who memorise space in an absolute way (exercise 3) but many who use a relative frame of reference for cognitive coding also use the cardinal directions in their descriptions. Another possibility for sea route descriptions is the distance specification used by a few informants in the form of temporal information, such as ‘i he houa ‘in an hour’. d.  On a ‘navigational scale’ (across the sea: destination out of sight) Even the longer sea route descriptions to Ha‘ano are not based on any seamark but rather on landmarks and means of transportation. The landmarks are mainly islands on the route between Tongatapu and Ha‘ano, as well as villages on the main island of Ha‘apai and special places on Tongatapu. These are mostly starting points or goals of different means of transportation on the way to Ha‘ano. The starting points can be the wharf in Nuku’alofa (on Tongatapu) where the ferries to Ha‘apai depart or the domestic airport, and accordingly, the goals of this part of the route description are the harbour in Pangai or the airport in Kulou which are both villages on Lifuka, the main island of Ha‘apai. From Pangai, a small boat could be taken directly to Ha‘ano, or alternatively, a land vehicle must be taken to the northern end of Fo‘a island and from there a smaller boat to Ha‘ano. The detailed descriptions22 (mostly of informants who have close relatives in Ha‘apai) mention even more landmarks (islands and villages) on the route and inform about distances between the landmarks (temporal and length units), while .  Interviewees 8 and 9.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

the simpler descriptions assume some starting points and goals to be unimportant if they just mention the means of transportation. Furthermore, it is remarkable that many younger informants23 are not able to explain this sea route at all because they have never been to Ha‘apai and do not even know where Ha‘ano is located. In contrast to the sea route descriptions to ‘Eueiki, the sea route descriptions to Ha‘ano are only based on landmarks, means of transportation and a few distance specifications. They do not contain any cardinal direction, seamarks or an ‘upwind-downwind’ axis to describe their route. This means that the informants rely on the regular route and means of transportation and probably could not locate the island in a boat by themselves any more. In contrast, their Austronesian ancestors who populated the Pacific were well-known for their sailing boats and navigational skills based on the knowledge of the winds and the position of the sun and stars (cf. Lewis 1972). Consequently, coordinate systems based on the winds (‘upwind-downwind’ axis) or the sun (cardinal directions) were probably once more important and more frequently used (cf. François 2004: 18–20). The following table gives an overview of the different spatial coordinate systems and in which kind of descriptions they have been used. The scale up to 25 (or 8 for sea route descriptions to Ha‘ano) represents the number of informants who gave the descriptions. If their description contains at least one of the linguistic elements (describing the various coordinate systems), this description is counted as making use of the respective coordinate system in Table 6.6. Table 6.6.  Use of different linguistic structures in various kinds of spatial descriptions 25 20 15

landmarks

10

cardinal directions up-down axis

5 0

large-scale small-scale sea route sea route description description descriptions descriptions (‘Eueiki) (Ha‘ano)

left-right axis

All descriptions (irrespective of scale) contain absolute landmarks as orientation points on the described routes. Therefore, it is rather interesting how the

.  23. Interviewees 3 and 19.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

directions between these points are encoded: by absolute cardinal directions, the absolute ‘up-down’ axis or the relative ‘left-right’ axis. It is significant that the absolute cardinal directions hardly occur in the descriptions, and if they do, they are mainly used in sea route descriptions to ‘Eueiki.24 Another absolute coordinate system, that is the ‘up-down’ axis, is much more important for the spatial descriptions but it occurs exclusively in short distance descriptions within the village of Niutoua. Some descriptions are even based on the relative ‘left-right’ coordinate system: mostly short distance descriptions but also some long distance descriptions. Thus, the relative ‘left-right’ axis is only used to describe directions on land and not at sea. The short distance descriptions are particularly interesting for further analysis as they are based on absolute as well as relative frames of reference. It is remarkable that many informants (8) base their short distance description on both frames of reference, the relative ‘left-right’ axis and the absolute ‘up-down’ axis or the absolute cardinal directions. Other informants (3) use none of these axes (they mainly describe the route with the use of landmarks), or they base their description on only one frame of reference, either the relative ‘left-right’ axis (7) or the absolute ‘up-down’ axis or the absolute cardinal directions (7) respectively. This ­distribution is shown in Table 6.7. Table 6.7.  Frames of reference in short distance descriptions 3/25

7/25

relative: left-right axis absolute: up-down axis (or cardinal directions) both frames of reference

8/25

none of those axis

7/25

The short distance description in 49 is an example of an exclusive usage of the relative frame of reference. This speaker bases the description only on the relative ‘left-right’ axis. Example 50, in contrast, shows a short distance description in which only the absolute frame of reference occurs, the ‘up-down’ axis, and landmarks (like the crossroads and the stony street).

.  The cardinal directions within the sea route descriptions to ‘Eueiki point out that the island of ‘Eueiki lies north of Niutoua. In this context, the ‘up-down’ axis which is only used for short distance descriptions does not give directions for a long enough distance because ‘Eueiki is not situated towards the sea (i.e. down) but beyond it.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

(49) Interview 9: ‘Alu pe ‘a e hala mei heni, ko e hala ko ‘eni, ‘alu pe, afe to‘omata‘u, ‘uluaki afe hema, pea afe ‘i ai, hangatonu pe, pea sio to‘omata‘u ‘oku ‘i ai ‘a e mala‘e vainga. Just go along the street from here, it’s this street, just go, turn right, the first turn left, and turn there, just straight and then look right, there is the village playground. (50) Interview 14: Te u lue pe hala ko ē ‘o a‘u ki mangafā, te u hifo ki lalo, ‘oku ‘i ai ‘a e hala, hala… hala makamaka, te u lue ‘o afe ki he mala‘e vainga ‘i lalo. I will just walk along that street and arrive at/(to) the crossroads, I will (go) down below, there is a street, street… stony street, I will walk and turn to the village playground below.

Concerning the use of the absolute frame of reference, it is remarkable that the cardinal directions which consist of two equal axes (‘north-south’ and ‘east-west’ axis) hardly occur in short distance descriptions. Tongan speakers, in this context, prefer to use the absolute ‘up-down’ axis which corresponds in Niutoua roughly to the ‘southnorth’ axis as the landscape descends towards the sea in the north and ascends towards the inland/bush in the south (cf. Map 6.1). In contrast to the cardinal ­directions, there are no two equal axes25 but a dominant ‘up-down’ axis and a weak transverse (­corresponding to the ‘east-west’ axis) which is hardly represented in Tongan.26 Only Interviewee 22 used the cardinal direction fakahahake ‘eastwards’ once. Therefore the question is whether the informants who use both frames of reference, the absolute and the relative, in their short distance descriptions, use ‘up-down’ to refer to a ‘southwards-northwards’ movement and ‘left-right’ to refer to a movement on the transverse (as there is no absolute ‘up-down’ equivalent for the transverse). In fact, half of the informants (4 of 8) who use both frames of reference in their short distance description use the relative ‘left-right’ axis if they describe a direction towards the east or the west, while they use the ‘up-down’ axis to refer to the north and the south. The short distance description in 51 is a good example of this ­distribution of two frames of reference. In this description, fakato‘ohema ‘leftwards’ .  This unequal salience of the two axes also becomes evident in the cognitive investigation of spatial perception. Section 6.4.2 has shown that some absolute orientated speakers (Interviewee 17, 20 and 21) mention ‘up-down’ (or ‘inland-sea’) as orientation coordinates but never the transverse (i.e. ‘east-west’). .  Other investigations in the Pacific have shown a similar inequality of these axes. Marquesan, various languages of New Caledonia, North-East Ambae (Vanuatu) and Longgu (Solomon Is.) have a dominant ‘sea-inland’ axis and a weak transverse axis which is mostly expressed by one term not distinguishing its two ends (cf. Lavondes 1983; Hill 1997; Ozanne-Rivierre 1997; Hyslop 1999).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

describes a movement towards the east, hifo ki lalo ‘down towards below’ ­corresponds to the north, and finally, hema ‘left’ describes a movement to the west. (51) Interview 19: Ko e hala mei ‘api ni ki mala‘e vainga; ko ho‘o hu pe mei he matapā mu‘a27 ‘o ‘alu fakato‘ohema ‘o ‘alu ai ki he mangafā ‘o hifo ai ki lalo, hifo pe koe ki lalo, pea afe hema, ha‘u hema ai pe ‘o ha‘u mai ki he mala‘e vainga. The way from this plot to the village playground; just pass through the front door and go leftwards and continue going to the crossroads and continue (going) down towards below, just (go) down towards below, and then turn left, just continue coming left and come to the village playground.

The other half of the informants who use the absolute ‘up-down’ axis as well as the relative ‘left-right’ axis describe the movements on the transverse by the ‘left-right’ axis as well, and to describe movements towards north and south they base their description not only on the ‘up-down’ axis but on both frames of reference. Example 52 shows the use of the relative ‘left-right’ axis and the absolute ‘up-down’ (i.e. ‘inland-sea’) axis to describe the same direction, which corresponds to the north, more precisely. (52) Interview 10: … te u afe fakato‘ohema ‘o ‘alu ai ki tahi… … I will turn leftwards and continue going towards the sea…

Since the linguistic analysis of the short distance descriptions has shown that in Tongan the relative as well as the absolute frames of reference are used, and the same is the case for non-linguistic coding (cf. §6.4.2.), the question is whether there is a correlation between linguistic and non-linguistic coding of space. Do the informants who are orientated in an absolute way also linguistically prefer the absolute ‘up-down’ axis in their short distance descriptions? And accordingly, do those who use a relative frame of reference for non-linguistic orientation also tend to use the same frame of reference in their short distance descriptions (i.e. the ‘­left-right’ axis)? These questions will be analysed in the following section. 6.4.4  Linguistic and non-linguistic coding of space The group of psycholinguists and cognitive anthropologists at the Max Planck Institute in Nijmegen has shown that different languages use the various frames of reference to a different extent. Further, their approaches point out that the manner of non-linguistic spatial perception corresponds systematically to linguistic spatial description. This means that the frame of reference which is predominantly used in a language is also the frame of reference which the speakers of that language use for spatial perception (cf. Levinson 1996a: 125), for example in English it is the

.  Matapā mu‘a ‘front door’: intrinsic front of the ‘api ‘plot of land’.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

relative ‘left-right’ concept while Guguu Yimidhirr speakers use absolute cardinal directions (cf. Levinson 1996b: 195, 188, 180–181). However, this does not mean that the spatial descriptions of speakers of one language are only based on this one frame of reference; it is a question of quantity and context. This is reflected in Foley’s remark on the use of cardinal directions (1997: 217): …while English speakers can use such an absolute system for large, global distances (i.e. Africa lies south of Europe), Guguu Yimidhirr uses it for all degrees of spatial distance, …

If we consider the use of the absolute relative frame of reference as a continuum, we obviously have Guguu Yimidhirr at the extreme absolute side because it does not have terms expressing the relative ‘left-right’ axis and its speaker use the absolute cardinal directions for linguistic and cognitive coding (cf. Haviland 1998). ­English (like most other Indo-European languages), in comparison, is more towards the relative side as it uses the relative ‘left-right’ axis much more than the absolute cardinal directions. Accordingly, English speakers (as well as Dutch speakers for example) generally perceive space in a relative way as the spatial games have shown (cf. Levinson 1996a: 114–122). As the results of cognitive spatial coding in Tongan (cf. §6.4.2) and the linguistic coding of space especially in short distance descriptions (cf. §6.4.3) have shown, Tongan speakers make use of both frames of reference, the relative and the absolute.28 Consequently, Tongan seems to lie more or less in the middle of the continuum (as Figure 6.8 demonstrates).

+ absolute – relative

Guguu Yimidhirr

Tongan

English – absolute + relative

Figure 6.8.  Continuum of the use of the absolute and relative frames of reference

Pederson et al. (cf. 1998: 572) mention further ‘mixed’ languages which also use the relative and the absolute frame of reference. The speakers of these ­languages base their linguistic spatial reference and their spatial cognition on both systems. Yet, there are differences. In Tamil, for example, the individual speaker uses either

.  The non-linguistic experiment is most comparable with the short distance descriptions within Niutoua because the informants mentioned the same relative or absolute orientation marks in both cases.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

the relative ‘left-right’ axis for linguistic coding, or the absolute cardinal ­directions, but not both (cf. Pederson et al. 1998: 572, 582–584). In Tongan, we have a slightly different situation. The analysis of the short distance descriptions (cf. §6.4.3) has shown that some speakers code space in a more relative way, some mainly in an absolute way and some use both frames of reference. They use the relative ‘left-right’ concept (like in English) as well as an absolute concept, that is hardly cardinal directions (like in Guguu Yimidhirr or Tamil) but an ‘up-down’ or ‘land-sea’ axis (like in Tzeltal and Oceanic languages). The unequal salience of the two absolute axes in Tongan short distance descriptions (i.e. the dominant ‘up-down’ axis and the weak transverse) is similar to the absolute spatial orientation in Tzeltal but different from Guguu Yimidhirr’s system which consists of two equal axes, that is four cardinal quadrants (cf. Foley 1997: 222–223; 225). Since in Tongan there are two frames of reference, not a single frame of reference, that dominates linguistic and non-linguistic coding, the question becomes whether individual speakers who use a relative frame of reference for non-­linguistic coding of spatial constellations also mainly use the same frame of reference in the short distance description (within the village), and if those who memorise space in an absolute way also mainly use absolute linguistic structures. This theory is not supported by the Tongan data. Table 6.8 shows that there is no correlation between linguistic and cognitive coding of space. Only two speakers of the six informants who base their short distance description exclusively on the absolute ‘up-down’ axis also use the absolute frame of reference for non-linguistic coding. In contrast to the theory, some absolute-orientated speakers base their short distance description on both frames of reference (2) and some even exclusively on the relative ‘left-right’ axis (2). Only three of the eleven speakers who use the relative frame of reference for non-linguistic orientation behave according to the theory. The other eight relative-orientated speakers base their short distance description on both frames of reference (4) or even exclusively on the absolute ‘up-down’ axis (4). Table 6.8.  Use of the absolute and relative frames of reference for linguistic and cognitive coding 4 3 2 1 0

absolute orientation relative orientation absolute: up-down axis

relative: both frames of left-right axis reference



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

Summarising, there is no significant correlation between linguistic and nonlinguistic coding of space. Only some speakers use the same frame of reference in their linguistic short distance descriptions and for cognitive orientation (plain bars in Table 6.8) while nearly as many behave in a non-correlating way by using different frames for linguistic and cognitive coding (striped bars in Table 6.8). Finally, those whose linguistic coding is based on both frames of reference actually may use each of those frames for cognitive orientation (dotted bars in Table 6.8). This raises the question of which factors influence the choice of this latter group of informants for one or the other frame of reference in the non-linguistic experiment (cf. §6.4.2). Further, more extensive study is needed to understand the relevant factors for choosing either the absolute or the relative frame of reference in Tongan. Since short distance descriptions favour the absolute frame of reference based on two unequal axes, new considerations are necessary concerning the nonlinguistic experiment. If the distinctive features of the pattern in Figure 6.5 (cf. §6.4.2) would only be along one axis (like those of an arrow), the results would probably vary depending on the direction in which the experiment is conducted. If the arrow lies on the ‘south-north’ axis in Niutoua, the informants could use the absolute ‘up-down’ axis for cognitive coding of the pattern but if the arrow lies on the transverse, there is no absolute equivalent to memorise the pattern. Consequently, it is more likely that a relative coding is used. The triangle in the pattern of Figure 6.5 shows distinctive features along both axes so that the direction in which the experiment is conducted hardly affects the choice of the frame of reference. It may only be that feature distinctions along one axis (i.e. ‘trianglesquare’) were perceived as more dominant or conspicuous than those along the other axis (i.e. ‘peak of triangle-straight side of triangle’). Thus, a pattern with the same number of distinctive features along both axes would possibly give ­better results.

6.5  Space as a social component The seating order of a Tongan kava ceremony and other official events is determined by sociocultural parameters (cf. §3.5). The social structure is visualised and honoured by those spatial arrangements. Therefore there is a close relationship between spatial and sociocultural parameters in which the spatial depends on the sociocultural. On the horizontal axis ‘front’ and on the vertical axis ‘up’ are the two spatial positions which are associated with higher ranked people. This metaphorical relation between ‘front’ and/or ‘up’ and high status or rank is common and does not only exist in Tongan, for example, the English expression ‘your highness’ (­horizontal axis: up) which is used to address royalty.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

So far, non-verbal behaviour has shown that spatial symbolism is very important in expressing status inequality in Tonga. In this section, the focus lies on verbal behaviour investigating whether the social meaning of ‘front’ and ‘up’ is also of special importance in linguistic expressions, in particular whether the linguistic use of ‘front’ is determined by the same sociocultural parameters as the non-verbal spatial behaviour. a.  ‘Front’ of buildings (houses, churches and town halls) Bennardo (2000a) relates the spatial expressions for ‘front’ to the chief ’s position: “The front of the house is where the chief sits”. More precisely, he defines mu‘a ‘front’ at the inside of a house as being opposite the official entrance through which the chief would enter the house. Thus, the spatial orientation inside a house corresponds to the relative orientation of the chief while entering the house. This coordinate system becomes fixed and thus does not move with the chief (or another viewer/speaker) when he turns around. The chief ’s sitting place at official events is then the intrinsic ‘front’ of a house and the ‘back’ is the opposite side, i.e. the side of the official entrance through which the chief enters the house. If the chief has never been to a certain house, it might be difficult to tell which is the official/main entrance because it does not have to be the same entrance as the domestic one used on a daily basis by the residents (cf. Bennardo 2000a: 529–532). Figure 6.9 illustrates the spatial coordinates of a modern Tongan house. A traditional one is oval in shape but has equivalent spatial coordinates.

front

back main entrance Figure 6.9.  Spatial coordinates of a Tongan house

According to Bennardo (cf. 2000a: 532–534), similar parameters define the ‘front’ of churches. Inside a church, ‘front’ is the part where the minister is, and thus, ‘back’ is the opposite side, the side of the (official) entrance. This coordinate system on the inside of the church is also applied to the outside (cf. Figure 6.10a) – mostly if the object is at least partly visible to the speaker/viewer on the inside.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

If the speaker/viewer is outside the church or if the object is (almost) completely out of sight, the coordinate system on the inside of the church is then reflected onto the outside (cf. Figure 6.10b). front a.

front

back b.

front

back

back

main entrance

main entrance

back

front

Figure 6.10.  Spatial coordinates of a Tongan church (a. basic; b. reflection)

The inquiry in Niutoua (exercise 1) has shown that the informants generally assign the ‘front’ of a house (matafale) to the part outside the main entrance (cf. §6.4.3.1). More precisely, they described matafale (or even mu‘a) as ‘the side of their house where they officially receive guests’, that is the area outside the ‘receiving door’.29 This description corresponds to Bennardo’s remark that the entrance is the door through which the chief would enter the house. The informants further described this door as leading into the main room and not the bedrooms or the kitchen (if it is attached to the house) and in most cases as the door facing the street. The other sides around the house (with or without doors) were mostly described as tu‘afale ‘outside/back-house’.30 However, a few .  Interviewee 22 who works at the king’s palace points out that nobody is allowed to cross matafale there as it is only for received guests with permission. .  Tu‘a means ‘outside, exterior’ as the opposite to loto ‘inside’, but it also means ‘back, behind’ as the opposite to mata ‘front’ (cf. Churchward 1959). As these three spatial nouns (preposed to fale ‘house’) all occur as spatial descriptions of a house (cf. exercise 1 of the inquiry) tu‘afale is in this context probably opposed to matafale as well as to lotofale.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

informants also used the description matafale ‘front-house’ for the area outside a second door (a kitchen door or a door leading towards a second street) different from the ‘receiving door’. Further specific interviews on this subject with Manako Folau (10.10.2004) and ‘Ungatea Fonua Kata (29.11.2004) have confirmed that this use of matafale is not quite correct; ‘front’ (matafale) is only assigned to the part just outside the main entrance or ‘receiving door’; it describes the intrinsic front of a house. According to this description, matafale has to be added in Figure 6.9 at the position of the ‘main entrance’, and consequently, it is comparable to the reflection type in Figure 6.10b (outside: ‘front’ is close to the main entrance). In contrast to mu‘a which can describe different outside parts as ‘front’ (cf. Figure 6.10), matafale always describes the intrinsic ‘front’. Thus, it does not even matter if the interview has taken place inside or outside the house. Similarly, the informants have called the part just outside the main entrance of the church as well as the town hall matafale ‘front-building’ while they have applied mu‘a ‘front’ on the outside either to the same or the opposite side (as in Figure 6.10a versus 6.10b). On the inside of the church, mu‘a ‘front’ has always been described as the part where the minister (i.e. the most prominent person in church) and the chief are seated, opposite the main entrance. Observations during feasts, kava circles and village meetings (fono) in the hall of the Wesleyan church have confirmed this definition of ‘front’. The highest ranked people sit inside at the ‘front’ table or in the part labelled ‘front’ opposite the main entrance (leading towards the street). This orientation of ‘front’ applies to everything within the hall. Therefore at a big feast we were sitting at Table 4 (people were sitting at both sides of each table) when the following explanation was offered (cf. Figure 6.11). The chief has to sit ‘i mu‘a ‘in front’ of Table 1 (side x) and never ‘i mui ‘in the back’ of Table 1 (side y). From our relative perspective, however, y would have been ‘in front of the table’ but this relative reading of mu‘a or mui does not apply to the inside of a hall whose ‘front’ is determined by the sitting place of the chief. This shows that the table has a ‘front’ according to the ‘front’ of the whole inside of the hall.31

.  Whenever the chief (Tāmale) was present in the hall, he was sitting in ‘front’ which was always opposite the main entrance. Therefore, a practical reason for this might be that in this way he sees the main entrance and nobody would have to pass behind his back. Another explanation for the chief ’s position is provided by the raised area along the wall opposite the main entrance (like a stage). As nobody should sit higher than a person of high societal rank (cf. §3.5), the ‘front’ table with the chief is placed on the stage.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

x front

table 3

y table 1

street

main entrance

table 2

table 4

Figure 6.11.  Spatial coordinates of the hall of the Wesleyan church in Niutoua (at a big feast)

However, at one smaller church occasion within the same hall, ‘front’ was suddenly on the opposite side to normal. The table with the most prominent person of the event (a church representative from Nuku’alofa; the chief was not present) was located towards the main entrance and I was told to go to the front (‘alu ki mu‘a) and sit next to him.32 This establishes that ‘front’ on the inside of a building is only defined by the sitting place of the highest ranked or most prominent person of an event. In contrast to Bennardo’s findings, it does not necessarily have to be opposite the main entrance. Thus, mu‘a is not a fixed ‘front’ but determined in each event by the sitting place of the highest ranked or most prominent person, a sociocultural parameter. b.  ‘Front’ of villages and islands Bennardo’s approach (cf. 2000a: 534–537) further demonstrates that a spatial coordinate system can even be determined for Tongan villages. On the island of Vava‘u, ‘front’ is the part of a village where the road from/to Neiafu enters/leaves the ­village regardless of its geographic relation to Neiafu. Neiafu is the biggest town in the Vava‘u island group and the “site of political, administrative and ­economic

.  Several other feasts on private allotments (‘api) within Niutoua took place under huge open tents. These tents were positioned in different ways depending on the empty space available on the allotment. It was conspicuous that ‘front’ was placed to a side were the other guests did not have to pass behind the back of the people at the ‘front’ table (probably as it is tapu to pass behind the chief ’s back). Even the ‘up-down’ axis was not decisive, although the ‘upper’ side of the allotment could be a likely position for a high ranked person. However, ‘front’ pointed downwards several times, although this was without any remarkable slope of the ground where the tent was placed.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

power” for this island group (Bennardo 2000a: 534). Figure 6.12 illustrates the spatial coordinates of a village.

street to/ from neiafu

front

village

Figure 6.12.  Spatial coordinates of a Tongan village

The informants in Niutoua (exercise 2 of the inquiry) described ‘front’ (mu‘a) of the village in a similar way. It is the western part of Niutoua where the street leads to/comes from Nuku’alofa, the capital and biggest town on Tongatapu (cf. Map 6.1). Accordingly, ‘back’ (mui) is on the opposite side of Niutoua in the east. This description of ‘front’ of a village can even be regarded in connection with the former definition. ‘Front’ is where the highest ranked person sits, on ­Tongatapu the king in Nuku’alofa and in Vava‘u his representatives in Neiafu. This leads to the assumption that consequently, there is even a ‘front’ of an island. On Tongatapu, this is probably the northern side of the island where so far all the capitals (the seat of the Tu‘i or later the king) have been located: currently Nuku’alofa, before this Mu‘a, and according to legend the ancient capital was around the Ha‘amonga (next to Niutoua). In this context, it is conspicuous that the former capital Mu‘a is even named ‘front’ (mu‘a). Further information which confirms this ‘front-back’ axis for Tongatapu is that most people call the Hala Liku (lit. ‘cliffbound road’) which leads around the coast on the southern side of the island ‘back road’. Summarising, ‘front’ (at the inside of a spatial area) is determined by the seat of the highest ranked or most prominent person while ‘back’ is then on the opposite side. The seating arrangements of the other participants of an event then depend on the seat of the highest ranked or most prominent person. The lower ranked people sit more towards the ‘back’, and are called tu‘a which is also the term for ‘back or outside’. Mu‘a ‘front’ once also described a societal group of those who were supposed to inherit the matāpule title and thus ‘go ahead’ or ‘go to a place in advance of their chief ’ (cf. §2.2.1). Finally, ‘front’ is determined by the social structure and can be defined as the sitting place of the highest ranked or most prominent person present.



Chapter 6.  Spatial descriptions 

6.6  Conclusion Tongan has linguistic means to encode space on the basis of the three different frames of reference. As is characteristic of the Oceanic language family, there is an absolute ‘up-down’ (or ‘land-sea’) axis which is important in small-scale contexts within a Tongan village. The non-linguistic experiments have shown that Tongans memorise space in either a relative or an absolute way. However, neither of these two frames of reference predominates as it does for English speakers who are in general relatively orientated. The linguistic data has provided similar results. Tongans use both frames of reference but the prevailing coordinate system depends on the context. The absolute ‘up-down’ axis, for example, is only used for spatial orientation and description on land, and more precisely, only in the village context. These small-scale descriptions have been of special interest as they contain linguistic expressions based on the absolute ‘up-down’ axis as well as those based on the relative ‘left-right’ coordinates. The distribution of these two frames of reference has provided important results. While directions of the ‘up-down’ axis are mostly expressed by the absolute ‘up-down’ coordinates, there are no equivalent absolute directions on the weak transverse. Consequently for the description of these directions the ­relative ‘leftright’ coordinates are used. Further data has provided interesting insights into how ‘front’ (mu‘a or mata) is assigned to houses and other places. While mata always describes the intrinsic ‘front’ of a building (i.e. the part just outside the official entrance), mu‘a is not such a fixed coordinate. At the inside of a building, it is determined by sociocultural parameters and can only be defined as ‘the sitting place of the highest ranked or most prominent person of an event’. Spatial coordinate systems have different anchor points. As this chapter has shown, the most interesting ones in Tonga are probably the ‘up-down’ axis which is based on the landscape of islands (a slope towards the sea) and the ‘front-back’ axis on the inside of buildings which is based on sociocultural parameters.

chapter 7

A‑ and O‑possession Possession is an oft examined feature within the Polynesian language family. Most of these languages make a distinction between two possessive categories: A‑forms and O‑forms. This possessive dichotomy is based on semantic features. Accordingly, different approaches use alternative terminology for A‑ and O‑possession to point out this distinctive character. A‑possession is also called ‘alienable’ or ‘acquired’ (from the possessee’s perspective), ‘subjective’ (based on syntactic relations), ­‘dominant’ or ‘active’ (from the possessor’s perspective), while ‘inalienable’, ‘inherent’ or ‘partitive’ (from the possessee’s perspective), ‘objective’ (based on syntactic relations) or ‘subordinate’ (from the possessee’s perspective) is the a­ lternative terminology for O‑possession. However, the choice of A‑ or O‑possessives is not determined by gender or noun class of the possessor or possessee but is based on the quality of the possessive relationship between both entities. These semantic descriptions of A‑ and O‑­possession will be discussed in Section 7.3., and in the following, I will use the terms A‑ and O‑possession for this dichotomy which is the most general terminology as it only describes the formal distinction without focussing on the semantics. The aim of this chapter is to analyse A‑ and O‑possession in Tongan. First, I will briefly introduce further linguistic terminology and definitions that are important for the following investigation of possession. Then, the morphology of Tongan possessive markers will be presented. The subsequent section will summarise the discussion concerning a definition of A and O within the Polynesian literature. This is the basis for an analysis of my own field research data from Tonga. After an appropriate definition of A and O in Tongan has been established, the main focus of analysis will be Tongan kinship terminology and especially the following questions. To what degree can the use of A or O with kinship terms be explained by productive semantic rules? Is the social stratification (cf. Chapter 2) between possessor and possessee, i.e. higher or lower status or rank, the underlying structure for A and O? 7.1  Terminology and definitions concerning linguistic possession In linguistic terms, a possessive construction expresses a relationship between the two entities ‘possessor’ and ‘possessee’ (also called ‘possessum’ or ‘possessed entity’) in which the possessee belongs to the possessor. This not only includes ­possession

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

in the sense of ownership but many different kinds of relationships, such as ­kinship relations, part‑whole relations and spatial relationships. Syntactically, the possessee is normally the head or nucleus of the possessive construction and the possessor is its modifier (cf. Lichtenberk 1983: 148–149; Mosel & Hovdhaugen 1992: 275–276; Heine 1997: 2). Examples 1 to 3 show different English possessive constructions for which the elements possessor and possessee are indicated. Lichtenberk (cf. 1983: 149) calls possessive constructions in which the possessor is a possessive pronoun (Example 1) ‘simplex constructions’, and those in which the possessor is a noun phrase (Examples 2 and 3) ‘complex constructions’. Furthermore, the examples can be distinguished according to the nature of possessor and possessee (cf. Heine 1997:  9). In Examples  1 and 2, the ­possessor is human and in Example 3 non‑human, while the possessee is human in ­Example 1 and non‑human in Examples 2 and 3. The constructions in Examples 2 and 3 differ although both are ‘complex constructions’. In English, the s‑genitive is ­preferentially used with human possessors (that is mainly proper names) (cf. Haegeman & Guéron 1999: 413–414). (1) my possessor

father possessee

(2) John’s possessor

car possessee

(3) the colour possessee

of the car possessor

Another formal distinction concerning possessive constructions is made between ‘direct’ and ‘indirect’ possession (cf. Lynch 1998: 128–130, 122–123). Direct possession means that the possessive marker is suffixed to the possessee noun (Example 4), while in indirect possession, the possessive marker is not attached to the possessee noun but is a separate morpheme (Example 5). In Tongan, like in most Polynesian languages, direct possession no longer exists.

(4) Boumaa Fijian (cf. Dixon 1988: 119):

tama‑qu father‑poss:1sg my father

(5) Boumaa Fijian (cf. Dixon 1988: 136):

me‑qau ice cream CL(drunk/sucked/licked)‑poss:1sg ice cream my ice cream



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

In these possessive constructions the quality of the possessive relationship, i.e. the relationship between possessor and possessee, is encoded. In Proto‑Oceanic, direct possession was used to express ‘inalienable’ relationships (that is possessive relationships in which the possessee cannot be separated from the possessor, and therefore the possessee is not acquirable), such as body parts and kin terms.1 In contrast, indirect possession was used for various types of ‘alienable’ relationships (that is possessive relationships in which the possessee is acquirable). In these cases, the possessive marker was suffixed to a classifier which was *ka‑ for a food relation between possessor and possessee, *(m,mw)a‑ for a drink relation between possessor and possessee, and *na‑/*a‑ as a general classifier for all other alienable relations (cf. Lynch 2000: 234–235). In contrast to Fijian (Example 4), Rotuman and Proto‑Polynesian (and consequently all Polynesian languages) have lost the direct possessive ­constructions, and as a result, inalienable possession is also expressed by indirect constructions (Example 6). Nevertheless, most of these languages2 still distinguish between alie­ nable and inalienable possession (cf. Lynch 1998: 128–130) which is also called A‑ and O‑possession as the two kinds of possessive markers are based on the contrastive vowels a and o (cf. Lynch 1997: 227; Clark 2000: 259), such as in the case of Samoan (Examples 6 and 7).

(6) Samoan (Mosel & Hovdhaugen 1992: 276; emphasis by the author, S.V.):

l‑o‑na tamā art‑poss(o)‑3sg father his father

(7) Samoan (Mosel & Hovdhaugen 1992: 124; emphasis by the author, S.V.):

l‑a‑‘u ta‘avale art‑poss(a)‑1sg car my car

.  Inalienable applies to a limited group of items (possessees) that cannot be separated from their possessor. Therefore they are also called ‘inherent’ possessees in contrast to alienable or ‘acquired’ possessees. Typical inalienable possessees are kinship roles, body parts and parts of other items (cf. Heine 1997: 10–11). For a more detailed analysis see Section 7.3. .  All Polynesian languages distinguish between A‑ and O‑possession, except Niuean and some northern outliers including Takuu, Nukumanu and Luangiua which have only one possessive marker and therefore completely lack the A/O distinction (cf. Massam & Sperlich 2000; Clark 2000: 267). Rotuman (a member of the Central Pacific group; cf. §1.4) has one marker for food and drink and a second for all other possessees (cf. Schmidt 2000: 251).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

7.2  Tongan possessive markers (morphosyntax) There are different kinds of possessive markers in Tongan, possessive prepositions and two sets of possessive pronouns. The benefactive prepositions and pronouns which describe potential possessive relationships are morphologically related to the possessive ones (cf. Clark 2000: 262–263). a.  Possessive prepositions The possessive prepositions ‘a and ‘o (reflecting Proto Polynesian *ôa and *o) are used to describe a relationship between possessor and possessee. Possessive prepositional phrases, i.e. phrases introduced by ‘a or ‘o, can function as adjuncts within a noun phrase (Examples 8 and 9) or as nuclei of a predicate (Example 10) (cf. Churchward 1953: 111–112; Clark 2000: 259). (8) Ko e fale ‘o e ‘eiki. pr art house p:poss(o) art chief It is the chief ’s house. (9) Ko e me‘alele ‘a Ikatonga. pr art vehicle p:poss(a) Ikatonga It is Ikatonga’s vehicle. (10) ‘Oku ‘o e ‘eiki ‘a e fale. ta:pres p:poss (o) art chief abs art house The house is the chief ’s.

As the possessive prepositions (‘a and ‘o) form part of the morphological structure of all possessive pronouns, they also have A‑ and O‑forms (cf. Churchward 1953: 130–133). For a better understanding of their morphological structure, I will first discuss the other components (i.e. articles and personal pronouns) before the possessive pronouns are presented in Tables 7.3, 7.4 and 7.5. b.  Articles As shown in Table 7.1, Tongan articles are classified as specific or non‑specific3, and as ordinary or emotional. The non‑specific articles mark the noun simply as non‑specific and not as indefinite and singular. Therefore non‑specific forms occur most frequently in questions, commands, negative or hypothetical contexts and non‑specific descriptions. .  Broschart (cf. 1997: 132) points out that Tongan articles do not mark definiteness (that is definite versus indefinite article) as classified by Churchward (cf. 1953: 23–27) but specific versus non‑specific. Definiteness is marked by a definite accent, that is there is an accent shift to the last syllable of the phrase. However, the definite accent occurs mostly in combination with the specific article (in an NP consisting of two or more words and beginning with a specific article), a specific possessive pronoun or a personal pronoun (cf. Churchward 1953: 6–10; 25–27).



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

In contrast to an ordinary article, an emotional one indicates that the speaker associates feelings of affection, friendship, pity, humility or respect with the following noun. The distribution of the two ordinary specific forms is as follows: he only occurs immediately after the prepositions ‘e, ‘i (which can be dropped), ki and mei; otherwise e is used (cf. Churchward 1953: 23–24; Tongan Government 2001: 16–18). Table 7.1.  Tongan articles

specific non‑specific

ordinary

emotional

e, he ha

si‘i si‘a

c.  Personal pronouns Like most Polynesian languages, the Tongan pronoun system distinguishes singular, dual and plural number, and exclusive versus inclusive forms for first person dual and plural. However, there is no gender distinction (cf. Lynch 1998: 100–102). The various forms for the first person singular in Table 7.2 are used as follows: ku after the past marker na‘a, ou after the present marker ‘oku, kau as the first word in a sentence and u in all other cases. A preposed personal pronoun precedes a verb while a postposed one follows a predicate or a preposition. For pronominal subjects, the preposed pronouns are used, whereas postposed pronouns have several functions; among others they describe pronominal objects (cf. Churchward 1953: 126–127; Tu‘inukuafe 1992a: 15–17, 21–23). Table 7.2.  Tongan personal pronouns preposed sg 1 excl 1 incl 2 3 impersonal*

ku, ou, u, kau ke ne te

dl ma ta mo na

postposed pl mau tau mou nau

sg

dl

pl

au

kimaua4

kimautolu kitautolu kimoutolu kinautolu

koe ia kita

kitaua kimoua kinaua

*one’s

4.  The suffixed element of the postposed dual personal pronouns is ua which means ‘two’ while the suffixed element of the plural forms is tolu, the term for ‘three’ (cf. Tu‘inukuafe 1992a: 21). However, the plural not only describes groups of exactly three people but of more than two.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

d.  Possessive pronouns There are two sets of possessive pronouns which occur in different syntactic environments: ‘premodifying’ and ‘predicative’ possessive pronouns.5 The premodifying possessive pronouns are used as modifiers in the noun phrase, more precisely in a preposed position to the possessed noun (cf. ­Examples 12 to 15, 17 to 18 and 21). This set of possessive pronouns (listed in Table 7.3 and 7.4) is morphologically composed of the following three elements: an article, a possessive preposition and a personal pronoun, as demonstrated in Example 11 (cf. Churchward 1953:  131–132, 135–139; Shumway 1971: 589–590; Tongan Government 2001: 45–46). In contrast to the second set of possessive pronouns, the article of the noun phrase forms part of this morphological structure (cf. Clark 2000: 259–260). (11) ha art (ord, unspec)

+ ‘a + ku  ha‘aku6 +p:poss(a) +1sg  possessive pronoun (1sg; A; ord, unspec)

The article component indicates whether the possessee is specific or non‑­specific, and whether it is ordinary or emotionally connoted. Apart from ordinary and emotional possessive pronouns which have specific and non‑specific forms, there are emphatic ones. As these are used to emphasise the pronominal possessor, they are always specific (i.e. the article element is the ordinary specific article he) and definite (indicated by the definite accent). The possessive preposition component indicates whether the type of possession is classified as A or O (cf. §7.3), and the pronoun component indicates person and number of the possessor. In contrast to the ordinary and emotional possessive pronouns which are composed of a personal preposed pronoun element, the pronominal component of the emphatic forms are postposed personal pronouns (without the prefix ki‑ in the dual and plural forms). Deviations are found in the singular forms: in the first person exclusive, the pronominal element is ku, in the second person, it is u, and in the third person, it is na. Some of the possessive pronouns are intact compounds of all three elements (cf. Example 11), while others have changed due to phonological processes like vowel assimilation (he + ‘a + ku  he‘eku: 1sg; A; ord, spec) or contraction (he + ‘o + ku  hoku: 1sg; O; ord, spec) or even a combination of these processes (cf. Churchward 1953: 135–140).

5.  Hooper (2000: 295–296) uses this terminology for Tokelauan to distinguish the different sets of possessive pronouns according to the syntactic context in which they occur. ­Churchward (1953:  130, 141) only calls the premodifying possessive pronouns ‘possessive pronouns’ while he uses the terminology ‘pronominal adjectives’ for the predicative ones which I consider less appropriate. 6.  For the purpose of demonstrating the principle, a regular example without any phonological changes has been chosen.



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

Table 7.3.  Tongan A‑possessive pronouns (set 1: premodifying) ordinary

emotional

emphatic

specific

non‑specific

specific

non‑specific

specific

1 2 3

sg

(he)‘eku7 ho‘o (he)‘ene

ha‘aku ha‘o ha‘ane

si‘eku si‘o si‘ene

si‘aku si‘ao si‘ane

ha‘akú ha‘aú ha‘aná

1excl 1incl 2 3

dl

(he)‘ema (he)‘eta ho‘omo (he)‘ena

ha‘ama ha‘ata ha‘amo ha‘ana

si‘ema si‘eta si‘omo si‘ena

si‘ama si‘ata si‘amo si‘ana

ha‘amauá ha‘atauá ha‘amouá ha‘anauá

1excl 1incl 2 3 impersonal

pl

(he)‘emau (he)‘etau ho‘omou (he)‘enau (he)‘ete

ha‘amau ha‘atau ha‘amou ha‘anau ha‘ate

si‘emau si‘etau si‘omou si‘enau si‘ete

si‘amau si‘atau si‘amou si‘anau si‘ate

ha‘amautolú ha‘atautolú ha‘amoutolú ha‘anautolú ha‘ata

Table 7.4.  Tongan O‑possessive pronouns (set 1: premodifying) ordinary

emotional

emphatic

specific

non‑specific

specific

non‑speific

specific

1 2 3

sg

hoku ho hono

haku hao hano

si‘oku si‘o si‘ono

si‘aku si‘ao si‘ano

ho‘okú ho‘oú ho‘oná

1excl 1incl 2 3

dl

homa hota homo hona

hama hata hamo hana

si‘oma si‘ota si‘omo si‘ona

si‘ama si‘ata si‘amo si‘ana

ho‘omauá ho‘otauá ho‘omouá ho‘onauá

1excl 1incl 2 3 impersonal

pl

homau hotau homou honau hoto

hamau hatau hamou hanau hato

si‘omau si‘otau si‘omou si‘onau si‘oto

si‘amau si‘atau si‘amou si‘anau si‘ato

ho‘omautolú ho‘otautolú ho‘omoutolú ho‘onautolú ho‘ota

In contrast to the ordinary possessive pronouns (Example 12: A‑possession; Example  13: O‑possession), the emotional ones are used to express feelings of affection, friendship, pity, humility or respect associated with the possessee (Example 14, compared to 13) (cf. Shumway 1971: 511–520)

7.  He‘eku corresponds to the article he and ‘eku to e. According to the distribution of the two forms of the specific ordinary article, he‘eku is used after the prepositions ‘e, ‘i, ki and mei. Otherwise, ‘eku is used (cf. Churchward 1953: 133).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

(12) Ko ‘ene me‘alele. pr poss:3sg.a.ord.spec vehicle It is his/her vehicle. (13) Na‘a ku tokoni ki hono kaume‘a. ta:past 1sg help p:all poss:3sg.o.ord.spec friend I helped his/her friend. (14) Na‘a ku tokoni ki si‘ono kaume‘a. ta:past 1sg help p:all poss:3sg.o.emot.spec Friend I helped his/her (poor) friend.

The emphatic forms can be used with (Example 15) or elliptically without a possessed noun (Example 16). As they are used to emphasise the pronominal possessor, the function of the emphatic form is the focus. (15) Te u nofo ‘i ho‘oná fale. ta:fut 1sg stay p:loc poss:3sg.o.emph house I will stay in his/her house. (16) Te u nofo ‘i ho‘oná. ta:fut 1sg stay p:loc poss:3sg.o.emph I will stay in his/hers. (as answer to the question: Which house will you stay in?)

While the specific possessive pronouns describe particular/specific possessees, the non‑specific ones describe arbitrary/non‑specific possessees. Therefore non‑­specific forms typically occur in existential questions (Example 17), existential negations and hypothetical contexts. In contrast, affirmative existential sentences (Example  18) are typical contexts of specific possessive pronouns (cf. Churchward 1953: 130; Shumway 1971: 363, 480). In both examples (17 and 18), ordinary forms are used, that is the possessee is neither emotionally connoted nor emphasised. (17) ‘Oku ‘i ai hao tokoua? ta:pres exist poss:2sg.o.ord.unspec brother/sister Do you have a brother/sister? (lit. ‘Does any your brother/sister exist?’) (18) ‘Oku ‘i ai hoku tokoua. ta:pres exist poss:1sg.o.ord.spec brother/sister I have a brother/sister. (lit. ‘There exists a specific my brother/sister.’)

The second set of possessive pronouns shown in Table 7.5 are called ‘predicative’ (cf. Note  5) although this is not their only function. The predicative possessive pronouns occur either as a nucleus of a possessive predicate (Example 19) or they follow the possessed noun in a possessive noun phrase (Examples  20 and 21). They may also be called ‘postposed possessive pronouns’ according to this second syntactic environment.



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

Table 7.5.  Tongan possessive pronouns (set 2: predicative) A‑form

1excl 1incl 2 3 impersonal

O‑form

sg

dl

pl

sg

dl

pl

(‘a)‘aku8

‘amaua ‘ataua ‘amoua ‘anaua

‘amautolu ‘atautolu ‘amoutolu ‘anautolu

(‘o)‘oku

‘omaua ‘otaua ‘omoua ‘onaua

‘omautolu ‘otautolu ‘omoutolu ‘onautolu

(‘a)‘au (‘a)‘ana (‘a)‘ata

(‘o)‘ou (‘o)‘ona (‘o)‘ota

(19) ‘Oku ‘o‘ona ‘a e fale. ta:pr poss:3sg.o abs art house The house is his/hers. (20) Ko e me‘alele ‘a‘ana. pr art vehicle poss:3sg.a It is his/her vehicle.

As articles only occur in prenominal position within noun phrases, they do not form part of the morphological structure of the predicative possessive pronouns (in contrast to the premodifying ones). The predicative possessive pronouns are ­morphologically composed of a possessive preposition (‘a or ‘o) and the postposed personal pronouns (without the prefix ki‑ in dual and plural and the same deviations in singular as in the emphatic forms of the premodifying possessive pronouns). If we compare Example  20 with Example  12, it becomes apparent that the premodifying possessive pronouns (in 12) are preposed to the possessed noun while the predicative possessive pronouns (in 20) are postposed. There is not only a formal difference between those two sentences but also a difference in meaning (i.e. information structure). The predicative possessive pronoun is used if one wants to stress or emphasise the possessive pronoun instead of the possessed item (cf. Churchward 1953: 142). The sentence in Example 19 is also possible without the possessed noun (‘Oku ‘o‘ona’. ‘It is his’) if the context provides the information that they are talking about the house. Furthermore, it is possible to use the predicative possessive pronoun in addition to the premodifying one to put even more emphasis on the possessor, as in Example 21 compared to 20 (cf. Churchward 1953: 142–143). (21) Ko ‘ene me‘alele ‘a‘aná. pr poss:3sg.a.ord.spec vehicle POSS:3sg.a It is his/her own vehicle.

8.  The short and long (that is partly reduplicated) forms of the predicative possessive ­pronouns are mostly used interchangeably (cf. Churchward 1953: 141).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

e.  Benefactive prepositions and pronouns Apart from the possessive prepositions and possessive pronouns, there are ­further markers with A‑ and O‑forms: the benefactive prepositions (ma‘a and mo‘o) and the benefactive pronouns. They indicate potential or still unrealised possession (cf. Churchward 1953: 112; Shumway 1971: 501). Clark (2000: 262) uses the term ‘irrealis possession’ to describe the “intention or anticipation that something will be possessed”. As shown in Example 22, the house does not exist yet but it is planned to build a house that will belong to ‘Elina once the plan is realised (as in Example 23). (22) Te u langa ‘a e fale mo‘o ‘Elina. ta:fut 1sg build abs art house ben:o ‘Elina I will build the house for ‘Elina. (23) Na‘a ku langa ‘a e fale ‘o ‘Elina. ta:past 1sg build abs art house poss:o ‘Elina I built ‘Elina’s house.

If the benefactive preposition is followed by a pronoun (24) instead of a noun (22), it forms a compound (Table 7.6) with the postposed personal pronouns (without the prefix ki‑ in dual and plural and the same deviations in singular as in the emphatic forms of the premodifying possessive pronouns) (cf. Churchward 1953: 146–147; Shumway 1971: 503–508). (24) Te u langa ‘a e fale mo‘otautolu. ta:fut 1sg build abs art house ben:1.incl.pl.o I will build the house for us. Table 7.6.  Tongan benefactive pronouns A‑form

1excl 1incl 2 3 impersonal

O‑form

sg

dl

pl

sg

dl

pl

ma‘aku

ma‘amaua ma‘ataua ma‘amoua ma‘anaua

ma‘amautolu ma‘atautolu ma‘amoutolu ma‘anautolu

mo‘oku

mo‘omaua mo‘otaua mo‘omoua mo‘onaua

mo‘omautolu mo‘otautolu mo‘omoutolu mo‘onautolu

ma‘au ma‘ana ma‘ata

mo‘ou mo‘ona mo‘ota

7.3  The semantics of A‑ and O‑possession The contrast between A‑ and O‑possession is central to most of the Polynesian possessive systems. Several grammars and papers on Polynesian languages have



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

already searched for an explanation of the distribution of A versus O forms (Examples 25 and 26). (25) Tongan: Ko e me‘alele ‘a Loisi. ‘(It is) Loisi’s‑A vehicle.’ Ko ‘ene me‘alele. ‘(It is) her‑A vehicle.’ (26) Tongan: Ko e nima ‘o Mahe. ‘(It is) Mahe’s‑O hand.’ Ko hono nima. ‘(It is) his‑O hand.’

This section will provide an overview of different theories concerning a semantic definition of A and O. All the theories range on a scale between a lexically conventionalised and semantically motivated explanation. Informed by my research data I will determine the most productive semantic definition for A and O in Tongan. A further aim is to investigate to what degree the use of A and O is semantically motivated. I have chosen Tongan kinship terms as the main focus for this investigation because: a. Kinship terms often do not fit entirely into the semantic pattern and are, probably for that reason, often discussed. b. Kinship terms are an important aspect of the social structure. By analysing A‑ and O‑possession with Tongan kinship terms, the interrelation between possession and social structure can be analysed. 7.3.1  Theories explaining the difference between A‑ and O‑possession There are numerous approaches to A‑ and O‑possession in Polynesian languages seeking to explain the difference between these two types of possession, that is which kind of possessive relationship is classified as A and which as O. Wilson (1982: 14–21) distinguishes two different kinds of approaches: ‘noun class theory’ and ‘control theories’. Noun class approaches basically provide two lists of possessed items – one with possessees occurring in A‑constructions and a second with O‑possessed items. In contrast, ‘control theory’ approaches present a semantic definition of A‑ and O‑possession based on the kind of possessive relationship between possessor and possessee. Therefore they explain the distinction between A and O in general terms. Wilson (1982: 15–21) further subdivides the ‘control theories’ into ‘simple control theory’ and ‘initial control theory’. In this section, I will first illustrate the adequacy of these different theories regarding Polynesian languages before discussing some specific Tongan approaches on A‑ and O‑possession against this background.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

a.  Noun class theory Clark (cf. 2000:  264) mentions that in particular early descriptions of Polynesian languages treat A‑ and O‑possession as a noun class system. They categorised the possessee as either A‑ or as O‑possessed. This categorisation (into A‑ and O‑class) was regarded purely as lexical conventionalisation, and semantic explanations for a systematic use of A and O were hardly considered. Nevertheless, most of these studies did remark on the selection between A and O not being semantically ­arbitrary. Ultimately they found semantic groups of items (such as clothes, food, body parts etc.) that they classified as A or O instead of single lexical items (cf. Wilson 1982: 14–15). This categorisation of possessed items or groups of items into two classes implies that the use of A or O is solely determined by the nature of the possessee. Several present grammars and papers on A‑ and O‑possession in Polynesian languages point out that the concept of semantic classes for A‑ and O‑possession is inappropriate because there are possessees which can appear in A‑ as well as O‑possessed constructions, with a difference of meaning (Examples 27 to 31). (27) Biggs (cf. 1969: 43) for Māori: te waiata a te tangata ra te waiata o te tangata ra

‘a song of‑A the man’ (i.e. a song which the man composed or sang) ‘a song of‑O the man’ (i.e. a song which is about the man)

(28) Mosel & Hovdhaugen (cf. 1992: 284) for Samoan: ‘o le ‘a‘ai a le ali‘i ‘o le ‘a‘ai o le ali‘i

‘the village of‑A the chief ’ (i.e. the village over which he rules) ‘the village of‑O the chief ’ (i.e. the village where he lives/was born)

(29) Bauer (cf. 1997: 392) for Māori: te rongoa a Pou ‘Pou’s‑A medicine’ (i.e. the medicine which he made/prescribed) te rongoa o Pou ‘Pou’s‑O medicine’ (i.e. the medicine for him to take) (30) Hooper (cf. 2000: 298) for Tokelauan: tau tūhaga ‘your‑A share’ (contribution) tō tūhaga ‘your‑O share’ (which you receive) (31) Firth (cf. 1985: xxxii) for Tikopia: taku fekau toku fekau

‘my‑A work’ (i.e. the work that I have been actively engaged in) ‘my‑O work’ (i.e. the work assigned to me to do)



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

As these minimal pairs demonstrate, the choice of A or O is not dependent on the nature of the possessee but rather on the relationship between possessor and possessee. Lichtenberk (1983: 148) therefore calls A and O ‘relational classifiers’, referring to the fact that: […] their use is determined not by some properties of the entity to which the noun phrase associated with the classifier refers but by the semantic relation between two linguistic elements, more precisely by the nature of the real‑world relation that obtains between the referents of those elements.

b.  Control theories Control theories take minimal pairs into consideration and do not list possessees as A‑ or O‑possessed. Instead, they provide general semantic definitions of A and O which are based on the kind of possessive relationship between possessor and possessee. In his Māori course, Biggs (1969:  43; italics by the author, S.V.) defines A‑possession as “possession of anything towards which the possessor is dominant, active or superior” (in Example 27: a song which the possessor composed or sang) and O‑possession as “possession of things in respect to which the possessor is subordinate, passive or inferior” (in Example 27: a song which is about the possessor). He uses the terms ‘dominant’ and ‘subordinate’ (from the possessor’s point of view) to label the distinction between A‑ and O‑­possession. For Mulloy & Rapu (1977: 8; italics by the author, S.V.) who worked on Rapanui, A‑possession is “a possession for which the owner is responsible, one which is dependent upon its possessor” and O‑possession is “a possession which is responsible for its owner, one upon which the possessor is dependent”. Other approaches on Polynesian languages (cf. Elbert & Pukui 1979: 136–137; Moyse‑Faurie 2000: 320–321) define A and O from the perspective of the possessee and therefore use the labels ‘acquired’ or ‘alienable’ for A‑possession and ‘inherent’ or ‘inalienable’ for O‑possession. All these kinds of semantic definitions of A‑ and O‑possession implicitly contain the concept of control. Consequently, Wilson (cf. 1982:  15) calls these approaches which define the distinction between A‑ and O‑possession by the presence (A) or absence (O) of control by the possessor over the possessive ­relationship ‘control theories’. However, there are still minimal pairs and other examples which cannot be explained by this semantic definition of A‑ and O‑possession because it is too ­general. Wilson (1982) and Lichtenberk (1983) propose a more detailed semantic definition of A and O which is more productive. Wilson distinguishes between a ‘simple control theory’ and an ‘initial control theory’. Both theories define A and O by presence (A) or absence (O) of control but the subject‑matter of control differs (Wilson 1982: 15–16): The Simple Control Theory holds that a possessor’s control of the possessed is the determining factor. The Initial Control Theory, on the other hand, holds

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

that the possessor’s control over the initiation of the possessive relationship is the determining factor.

Using the following example (32), Wilson (1982: 18) demonstrates that the ‘simple control theory’ is not sufficient for all examples. (32) Hawaiian: nā kānaka o ke ali‘i

‘the people of‑O the chief ’

In Example  32 the ‘simple control theory’ predicts A‑possession because in ­Hawaiian culture the chief (possessor) is dominant over his people (possessee). Nevertheless, O is used. In contrast, the ‘initial control theory’ correctly predicts O‑possession because in traditional Hawaiian culture, a chief (possessor) has no control over the establishment of the relationship with his people (possessee). This relationship is not established through anyone’s agency but through common ­kinship and residence bonds. Wilson (1982: 16) combines the two control theories in the following way: The “Initial Control Theory is preferable to the Simple Control Theory”. Lichtenberk (1983: 166) points out that there are still exceptional “cases that do not fit the generalizations” even according to Wilson’s approach. In these cases, the choice of A or O is neither predictable by the ‘simple control theory’ nor by the ‘initial control theory’. However, Lichtenberk (cf. 1983: 168) still stresses the validity of the semantic definitions in spite of the existence of exceptions which have to be specified in the lexicon. In her Māori grammar, Bauer (1997: 390–391) uses the concept of control (i.e. only the ‘simple control theory’) for the definition of A‑and O‑possession but she emphasises that O‑possession is the normal or general case and A‑possession the specific one, meaning that A is used if the “relationship is characterised by dominance or control of the possessor over the possessee” and O in all other cases. This implies that O is not only used if the possessor is subordinate to the possessee but also if the relationship is controlled neither by the possessor nor by the possessee. In Bauer’s definition, the O‑form is the default case. It is important to remark that in contrast to Bauer (1997) and others9, Wilson (1982) does not define O as default (cf. Note 16). Wilson simply defines O‑­possession by the absence of control of the possessor over the possessee (i.e. ‘simple control  theory’), while Bauer stresses the fact that there is either absence of such

9.  This concept that A is used if the possessor has control over the possessee and O is used otherwise also appears in Clark (2000: 265), Cook (2000: 345) Harlow (2000: 363–364) and Fischer (2000: 338–340).



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

c­ ontrol or nothing is even said about control. However, Bauer does not take the ‘initial control theory’ into consideration. In conclusion, we can reap the most productive definition of A‑ and O‑possession if we combine Wilson’s and Bauer’s definitions explaining even more examples (cf. §7.3.2.1) than either of the two approaches on their own: 1. ‘initial control theory’: A‑possession is used if the possessor has control over the initiation of the possessive relationship while O‑possession is used in all other cases, that is if control is absent or unspecified. 2. ‘simple control theory’: A‑possession is used if the possessor has control over the possessee while O‑possession is used in all other cases, that is if control is absent or unspecified. 3. The ‘initial control theory’ is preferable to ‘simple control theory’. Yet even this semantic definition is not productive enough to apply to and explain all cases of A‑ and O‑possession without any exception (cf. §7.3.2.2). Nevertheless, I still consider it the most appropriate definition. In spite of the above mentioned problem of noun class theories, lists of semantic groups of nouns which are A‑ or O‑possessed are still used for practical purposes in numerous Polynesian grammars and particularly in language courses. They categorise groups of nouns according to their semantic A‑/O‑definitions. The lists are used to give a first introductory survey of A‑ and O‑possession, or they serve as a learning aid for language students (cf. Shumway 1971: 265–268; Churchward 1953: 81–85). Lists for various Polynesian languages are given in Appendix 2. According to Bauer (1997: 392), it is possible to set up such lists because not all possessees can be A‑ as well as O‑possessed.10 Some types of possessee normally only occur with A or O respectively because their intrinsic qualities allow only one kind of relationship with a possessor. It is remarkable that across different languages certain items are always listed as A and others always as O. The most prototypical A‑possessions are items of personal use, and the most prototypical O‑possessions are body parts and other parts of whole structures (cf. Heine 1997: 10–11; Hooper 2000: 298). This stereotyping of some possessive relations results from the fact that some possessees occur mostly or even exclusively in one possessive context, such as body parts typically describing an intrinsic part of the possessor’s own body (Clark 2000:  264). However, there are other possessive contexts in which body part terms may occur in A‑constructions as Section 7.3.2.1 (Example  53)

10.  This contradicts Taumoefolau’s approach which is presented below.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

will show. Therefore even body part terms provide examples of minimal pairs. This contradicts the lists of A‑ and O‑possession but is explicable within the framework of ‘initial control theory’. Besides these essential theories and definitions of A‑ and O‑possession in Polynesian languages, there are some specific Tongan approaches which will be presented and discussed below. Firstly, we will consider Churchward’s approach (1953) which can be regarded as a transition between ‘noun class theory’ and the ‘control theories’ as it contains a semantic definition of A‑ and O‑possession but also lists of possessees that are either A‑ or O‑possessed. Churchward derives the semantic definition of A‑ and O‑possession with concrete possessed items from the semantic/syntactic domain, that is the assignment of A‑ and O‑possession to nominalisations. Secondly, the Tongan native speaker Taumoefolau (1996) makes an attempt to explain the use of A‑ and O‑possession as an entirely productive system. She defines A‑possession as an ‘active’ and O‑possession as a ‘partitive’ relationship and claims that absolutely all possessees can occur in A‑ as well as O‑constructions with the corresponding difference of meaning. This assumption is supported by minimal pairs such as the body part example but contradicts Bauer’s claim that not all possessees can be A‑ as well as O‑possessed because of their intrinsic qualities (see above). Thirdly, Bennardo (2000c’ 2000d) criticises Taumoefolau’s approach in which she treats A and O as prototypes or metaphors. In many cases, it does not provide an explanation of the underlying concept of A‑ and O‑possession. Bennardo ­proposes an alternative conceptual approach and describes the difference between A‑ and O‑possession in Tongan by using spatial concepts. a.  Churchward Churchward (1953) first analyses nominalised constructions and concludes that syntactic relations determine the possessive category (A or O). From these results, he derives a semantic definition of A‑ and O‑possessions for ­nominalisations which he also applies to concrete nouns (i.e. lexemes with predominantly noun‑like qualities in contrast to nominalisations). In addition to this semantic definition, he provides lists of concrete possessees which are either A‑ or O‑possessed. Moreover, he lists exceptions, i.e. possessees that are A‑possessed although the semantic definition would predict O‑possession or vice versa. Churchward (cf. 1953:  78–81) gives the following explanation for A‑ and O‑possession which he calls ‘subjective’ possession (A) and ‘objective’ possession (O). These terms derive from his syntactic explanation of the A‑O‑distinction for nominalisations. If the possessor of a nominalisation corresponds to the ­subject



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

of the verb, A‑possessives are used, and if the possessor of a nominalisation ­corresponds to the object of the verb, O‑possessives are used. This rule applies without exception in all cases, i.e. for all kinds of verbs. To illustrate this connection, Churchward (cf. 1953: 78) shows two possible nominalisations (34 and 35) of the verb in sentence 33. (33) ‘Oku ou taki ia. ta:pres subj:1sg lead obj:3sg I lead him. (34) ‘eku taki poss:1sg.a nom:leading my‑A leading (i.e. the leading which is done by me) (35) hono taki poss:3sg.o nom:leading his‑O leading (i.e. the leading which is done to him)

A‑possession (34) is used if the possessor corresponds to the subject (ou 1sg in 33) of a verb and O‑possession (35) if the possessor corresponds to the object (ia 3sg in 33) of a verb. In this example the subject in Churchward’s terms refers to the agent (‘… done by me’ in 34) and the object to the patient (‘…done to him’ in 35).11 This analysis of the use of A and O with nominalisations is productive in ­Tongan, as in most Polynesian languages, in that it is highly predictable (cf. ­Fischer 2000: 338–340; Harlow 2000: 363–365; Hooper 2000: 301–306). Therefore it will not be examined any further in this study. For the possessives used with concrete nouns (i.e. no nominalisations), Churchward (1953: 81) extends the above mentioned rule and states that A is used if the possessor is “active, influential, or formative” towards the possessee (­Example 34). Correspondingly, O is used when the possessee is “active, influential, or formative” towards the possessor (Example  35). This definition corresponds to the ‘simple control theory’ (without O as default case). Based upon this definition, Churchward (cf. 1953: 81–82) develops two lists of semantic categories – one of the possessees being A‑possessed and a second of the possessees being O‑possessed, as presented in Table 7.7.

11.  In most Polynesian languages, the rule for nominalisations is that agent‑arguments of a verb normally appear with A‑possessives while patient‑arguments take O. However, in some languages (such as Tongan) only syntactic relations (that is correspondence to the subject or object of a verb) determine the possessive category (cf. Clark 1981: 68; Clark 2000: 266; for Tongan cf. Churchward 1953: 79–81).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Table 7.7.  A‑ and O‑possessed semantic categories (according to Churchward) A‑possessed semantic categories

O‑possessed semantic categories

a. goods, money, tools, utensils, f. things which constitute me or characterise me instruments, weapons, etc., and (whether permanently or for the time being), gardens, which I own or use that is to say, things which are parts of me or which are so closely connected with me that b.  animals or birds which I own or use they almost seem to be parts of me c.  things which I eat, drink, or smoke d. things which I originate, make, g. persons or things which, in one sense or mend, carry, or otherwise deal with another, present me e. persons in my employ, under my h. my relatives, friends, associates, or enemies control, or in my care (naturally such persons help to determine what I am, what I do, or how I fare) i. things which are provided for me or which devolve upon me or fall to my lot j. in general, persons or things which surround, support, control, or affect me, or on which I depend

The mere listing of semantic categories (see ‘noun class theory’) does not entirely explain the use of A‑ and O‑possession, which becomes evident in Churchward’s presentation itself (cf. 1953: 82–87). In addition to these listings, he presents examples (single concrete nouns) for each of these semantic categories. Furthermore, he lists exceptions; possessed nouns which are O‑possessed even though they should be A‑possessed according to the above categories or vice versa (cf. Appendix 3). Finally, Churchward also mentions some minimal pairs (such as Examples 36 and 37). (36) ‘eku sote ‘my‑A shirt’ (i.e. the shirt which I make or mend) hoku sote ‘my‑O shirt’ (i.e. the shirt which I wear) (37) ‘ene lao ‘his‑A law’ (i.e. the law which he makes) hono lao ‘his‑O law’ (i.e. the law by which he (or it) is governed)

As Churchward’s semantic categories are more general than other approaches which mostly describe ‘clothes’ as typical O‑possessed items, it is possible to classify Example 36 according to the categories. The A‑possessed shirt is something which I make (d in Table 7.7) while the O‑possessed shirt is almost part of me (f in Table 7.7). However, Churchward (cf. 1953: 84) categorises other clothes (such as kofu ‘dress’) only as O‑possessed items, although they can be A‑possessed as well (such as sote in Example 36). Churchward, moreover, is able to explain minimal pairs by his semantic definition. In Example 37 the A‑possessive is used if the possessor is ‘active, influential, or formative’ towards the possessee (i.e. the law which the possessor makes), and the O‑possessive is used if the possessee is ‘active, influential, or formative’ towards the possessor (i.e. the law by which the possessor is governed).



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

To sum up, Churchward gives a semantic definition of A and O for concrete nouns which he derives from the definition of A and O for nominalisations. Yet the definition for possession of concrete nouns does not seem to be as productive as for nominalisations because Churchward must specifiy in the lexicon all the exceptions not accounted for by his definition (cf. Churchward 1959). Further on, I will show that at least some of Churchward’s exceptions correspond with the semantic definition if it is extended by the ‘initial control theory’ and the ‘default’ idea (see Bennardo’s explanation of huo ‘hoe’ versus hele ‘knife’). b.  Taumoefolau A more productive semantic approach to defining A‑ and O‑possession is ­Taumoefolau’s (1996). She assumes that the semantic/syntactic rules describe an entirely productive system in which each noun can be A‑ and O‑possessed with a corresponding difference in meaning. This implies that nouns which are only A‑ or only O‑possessed do not exist. To prove this assumption, Taumoefolau investigates single possessees (i.e. concrete nouns and nominalisations) instead of semantic domains (such as body parts), and she demonstrates that each of these pos­sessees can occur in A‑ and O‑constructions, always describing different possessive relationships. Based on the assumption that A and O have “something to do with […] verbal and nominal uses of a form”, Taumoefolau (1996: 295) argues that A and O have ‘grammatical functions’ rather than ‘lexical meanings’. Accordingly, she gives the following definition of A and O which she applies to nominalisations as well as concrete nouns (Taumoefolau 1996:  295–296): A implies a ‘verbal function’ that marks “possession as an ‘activity’ […] and the possessor as a ‘doer’”, and O implies a ‘nominal function’ that marks “possession as a ‘part’ or ‘property’ […] and the possessor as a ‘whole’ or ‘totality’”. Taumoefolau (cf. 1996: 299) dismisses the c­ oncept of ‘control’ as too specific compared to that of ‘activity’. (38) ‘eku taki ‘my‑A leading’  possessor (ego) is the ‘doer’; possessee (leading) is the ‘activity’ (39) hoku nima ‘my‑O hand’  possessor (ego) is the ‘whole’; possessee (hand) is the ‘part’

Taumoefolau (1996:  296–297) uses these examples (38 and 39) to demonstrate the prototypical use of A and O according to her definition. Prototypical A occurs “where a syntactic Agent possesses a nominalised transitive verb” or “where a syntactic Subject possesses a nominalised dynamic intransitive verb” and prototypical O is a nominal part‑whole relationship. Therefore her definition of A‑­possession resembles Churchward’s definition for nominalisations in many respects. ­Taumoefolau even uses the same example (compare Examples 38 and 34).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

As she assumes that A and O are grammatical metaphors, they also have metaphorical extensions (Examples 40 and 41) along with their prototypical applications. In these cases, the definition of A and O does not fit as perfectly as in the prototypical situations. Taumoefolau (cf. 1996: 298) explains this with a conflict between the grammatical function of A (as ‘activity’ verbal) and O (as ‘property’ nominal) and the lexical meanings of the possessee. Applying her assumptions, her examples present no exceptions. (40) ‘eku tama ‘my‑A child  possessor is a metaphorical ‘doer’; (of a woman)’ possessee is a metaphorical ‘activity’ (i.e. it is ‘made by’ the possessor) (41) hoku taki ‘my being led’ 

possessor is a metaphorical ‘whole’; possessee is a metaphorical ‘part’ (i.e. it identifies the possessor)

Although Taumoefolau (cf. 1996: 299–300) states that each noun can be A‑ and O‑possessed (such as the possessee fa‘ē in her Examples 42 and 43), the two possessive forms are not necessarily used with the same frequency. While 42 is used quite often in Tongan, 43 only appears in this extremely specific context and is therefore rare. (42) ‘eku fa‘ē ‘my‑A mother’  ‘doer’‑‘activity’ relationship (fa‘ē is the metaphorical ‘activity’) (43) fa‘ē ‘o e ta‘u ‘mother of‑O the year’  ‘whole‑part’ relationship (fa‘ē is the ‘part’)

According to Taumoefolau (cf. 1996:  301), this difference in frequency of use causes non‑native speakers (like Churchward) to claim that certain nouns occur only in A‑ or O‑contexts respectively. Mostly, they do not know about the rare and specific cases. As Section 7.3.2.1 will show, even Tongan native speakers are often unaware of such cases (cf. Note 17). However, the question still remains why in certain cases the use of A and O is metaphorical and therefore not predictable. Taumoefolau (1996: 302) merely answers this question as follows: “unpredictability here is not due to exceptional circumstances requiring any new rules but rather to the accident of A/O choice, since it is in this area that A and O are potentially equally applicable”. This means that the choice of A and O has been conventionalised in these cases, and consequently, Taumoefolau’s definition of A and O does not provide an explanation for all cases either. c.  Bennardo Bennardo (cf. 2000c: 269, 275–278) mentions these problems of Taumoefolau’s metaphorical approach with certain concrete nouns only explained by ­conventionalisation.



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

Therefore he focuses on tools (huo ‘hoe’ as an A‑possessed example and hele ‘knife, bush knife’ as an O‑possessed example)12 which can be conceived of as ‘activities’ or as ‘parts’ according to Taumoefolau (1996: 302) and searches for an alternative explanation. Bennardo suggests that the concept of possession is related to spatial representation in a language. Based on this suggestion, Bennardo (2000c: 276) reaches the following definition: “A‑possession is a Vector whose origin is specified, while O‑possession is an inverted Vector whose direction is specified” which he ­illustrates in Figure 7.1.

A-possession

O-possession

Figure 7.1.  Bennardo’s illustration of his spatial definition of A‑ and O‑possession

Bennardo (cf. 2000c: 276) explains Churchward’s two examples (34 and 35) accordingly. In Example 34, A is chosen because it indicates that the origin of the activity is specified (i.e. the possessor: his leading). In Example 35, O indicates an activity whose direction is specified (i.e. the recipient: his being led). In a similar way Bennardo (2000c: 277) explains the case of the two tools: hoe and knife. Both can be considered as ‘part’ of a partnership with the possessor, just as they are related to ‘activities’ according to Taumoefolau (1996: 302). The important cultural background information is that the traditional Tongan knife was a personal possession (probably made of bamboo which was available to everybody). The origin of the knife is therefore specified, and it is A‑possessed: ‘eku hele ‘my‑A knife’. The traditional hoe, instead of being a personal possession, was a social one (i.e. possessed by the community) because it was made of limited available stone. It was temporarily given to different people of the community, and therefore the direction of the hoe (i.e. the recipient) is specified. This explains why it is O‑possessed: hoku huo ‘my‑O hoe’. However, I see no advantage in Bennardo’s spatial definition as the same example could also be explained by Wilson’s ‘initial control theory’ which predicts A‑possession for the knife because the possessor has control over the initiation of the relationship. He personally makes the knife. By contrast, the hoe 12.  However, huo can actually occur in A‑ as well as in O‑possessed constructions (cf. Example 54).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

is not ­necessarily made by the person who uses it because it is possessed by the community.13 Consequently, there is no control over the initiation of the ­possessive relationship (or nothing is said about it). Furthermore, the hoe was kept as a social possession, inherited from generation to generation within the community. In contrast to small non-inheritable objects of personal property, inherited possessions are mostly O (cf. Bauer 1997: 391).14 Again Wilson’s ‘initial control theory’ can be applied. The possessor of inherited possessions has no control over the initiation of the relationship because he has not produced the possession nor can he willingly decide when or if he receives a certain possession by inheritance. In conclusion, Bennardo’s approach aims to address the problems of Taumoefolau’s metaphorical theory but is no more productive than Wilson’s ‘initial control ­theory’. Basically, Bennardo transfers Wilson’s definition to a spatial level, and ­therefore contributes no further to a semantic explanation of A and O. 7.3.2  A semantic analysis of A‑ and O‑possession in Tongan Having set out the various definitions of A‑ and O‑possession in Section 7.3.1, I now apply and evaluate the ‘control theories’, including the default idea and Taumoefolau’s assumption that each noun can occur with A‑ and O‑possessives expressing different contexts.15 The aim is to determine the most productive semantic definition of A and O in Tongan. The investigation begins with various Tongan concrete nouns (§7.3.2.1) and thereafter focuses on Tongan kinship terms (§7.3.2.2). 7.3.2.1  Defining A and O in Tongan In order to find an appropriate semantic definition for A and O, it is useful to start by contrasting minimal pairs. The concrete nouns in Examples 44 and 45 can occur as a possessee in A‑ and O‑constructions. Depending on the possessive ­category,

13.  The fact that the hoe is possessed by the community also means that the possessor is not the only one who may make decisions about it. Consequently, the possessor does not have sole or entire control over the hoe and even the ‘simple control theory’ correctly predicts O‑possession. 14.  Similarly, Mulloy & Rapu (cf. 1977: 12–13) and Thornton (cf. 1998: 389) who explain A‑ and O‑possession with the concept of mana and tapu (A: possessor has more mana, i.e. the possessee is covered by his tapu; O: possessor’s mana is not superior; cf. §7.3.2.2) categorise portable ­property as A‑possessed and bigger products of group activity (such as a canoe) as O‑possessed. 15.  ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 19.11.2002 and 13.3.2003) was asked if and in which context with which meaning A‑ and/or O‑possessives occur with different possessee. Section 7.3.2 is based on this information.



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

these examples (44a versus 44b and 45a versus 45b) describe different possessive relationships between possessor and possessee. This difference of meaning will guide the search for an appropriate semantic definition of A and O. (44) a. ‘eku hingoa ‘my‑A name’ (i.e. the name that I give to someone) b. hoku hingoa ‘my‑O name’ (i.e. the name that is given to me) (45) a. ‘eku fā‘ele ‘my‑A birth’ (i.e. birth that I give to my child) b. hoku fā‘ele‘i ‘my‑O birth’ (i.e. birth that is given to me)

Examples 44 and 45 demonstrate that in the A‑possessed case (a: the name or birth that the possessor gives to someone), the possessor has control over the possessee (name or birth). Whereas in the O‑possessed cases (b: the name or birth that is given to the possessor), this control is absent. Consequently, all theories which are called ‘simple control theories’ by Wilson are appropriate for explaining A and O in these examples (although 44 and 45 might be also explained by the ‘initial control theory’). However, we find other minimal pairs (Examples 46 to 49) in which A and O can only be explained according to Wilson’s ‘initial control theory’. In these cases, the ‘simple control theory’ is not appropriate. (46) a. ‘eku ‘akau b. hoku ‘akau

‘my‑A plant/tree’ (i.e. a plant/tree that I have planted) ‘my‑O plant/tree’ (i.e. a plant/tree that is growing on my land but I didn’t plant)

(47) a. ‘eku fale b. hoku fale

‘my‑A house’ (i.e. a house that I have built/made) ‘my‑O house’ (i.e. my own house in which I live/stay)

(48) a. ‘eku tēpile b. hoku tēpile

‘my‑A table’ (i.e. a table that I have built/made) ‘my‑O table’ (i.e. a table that I own/use)

(49) a. ‘eku ta‘ovala ‘my‑A waist mat’ (i.e. a waist mat that I have made) b. hoku ta‘ovala ‘my‑O waist mat’ (i.e. a waist mat that I own/wear/use)

In the O‑possessed cases (Examples 46b to 49b), the possessor has control over the possessee (such as in Example 46 over the plant/tree that is growing on the possessor’s land), and therefore the ‘simple control theory’ would predict A‑­possession if such control is present. Similarly, Churchward’s definition of O‑possession (the possessee is ‘active, influential or formative’ towards the possessor) is inappropriate, especially for examples 47b and 48b because the possessee is not really ‘active, influential and formative’ towards the possessor (the table or house which the possessor uses). It is actually the other way round, that is if the possessor uses his table or house, he is ‘active or influential’ towards this possessee, which corresponds to Churchward’s definition of A‑possession.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

The ‘initial control theory’ (extended by Bauer’s idea that O‑possession is the default case), on the other hand, correctly predicts O‑possession in Examples 46b to 49b. In example 46b the possessor has no control over the initiation of the ­possessive relationship because he did not plant the tree/plant, and in Examples 47b to 49b, the possessor uses the possessee but nothing is said about the control over the initiation of the possessive relationship. Without defining O‑possession as default, Wilson is not able to explain the Examples 47b to 49b because he cannot use the argument of the presence or absence of control; nothing is said about it. The ‘initial control theory’ is also more appropriate for the A‑possessed cases (Examples 46a to 49a) because it is more precise than the ‘simple control theory’. The possessor has control over the initiation of the possessive relationship by planting the tree/plant and by making the house, waist mat or table. The use of A‑ and O‑possession with other plants and trees (for example niu ‘coconut palm’) follows the same pattern as Example  46. All other buildings or building parts (for example ‘ōfisi ‘office’, peito ‘kitchen’, loki ‘room’) are used with A and O in the same way as fale ‘house’ in Example 47, and mohenga ‘bed’ in the same way as tēpile ‘table’ in Example 48. Finally Example 49 is exemplary for the use of A and O with all other clothes (such as vala ‘clothes’, fala ‘mat’, kiekie ‘waist bands’, tupenu ‘wrapped skirt’ and uasi ‘watch’).16 The range of minimal pairs in Tongan is therefore much larger than Churchward shows in his lists (cf. Appendix 3). He only mentions some nouns describing clothes as such minimal pairs (that is fala ‘mat’ and sote ‘shirt’) while he lists vala ‘loin‑cloth’ and kofu ‘dress’ only as O‑possessed items, although they might occur in similar A‑contexts (such as example 49a). In conclusion, Wilson’s control theories (extended by the important idea that O‑possession is the default) are appropriate for all the above examples. If the possessor has control over the possessee, either its existence as such (Examples 44a and 45a) or its initiation (Examples 46a to 49a), A is used, and if this control is absent (Examples 44b to 46b) or if nothing is said about it (Examples 47b to 49b), O is used.

16.  Wilson (1982: 24) states that in non‑Eastern Polynesian languages certain artefacts are exceptionally O‑possessed if they are made for ‘personal use’, while they are A‑possessed “in other cases of possession initiated with a possessor’s control”. Actually, the O‑possessed cases are no exceptions to the ‘initial control theory’ if we take into consideration that O‑­possession is the default case. This can be demonstrated by means of the example from van der Grijp (1993: 62): hoku ngatu ‘my‑O tapa’ describes tapa cloth which is “made for personal use”, that is nothing is said about whether the possessor initiated the possessive relationship or not, while ‘eku ngatu ‘my‑A tapa’ describes tapa cloth which is “made for someone else, whether as a gift or not”, that is the possessor has control over the initiation of the possessive relationship as he produced the possessee (in this example the tapa cloth).



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

Quite often the possessor not only has control over the initiation of the ­possessive relationship but the possessee would not even exist without the possessor’s agency. The possessor makes, creates or fabricates the possessee (46a to 52a).In the O‑­possessed cases of examples 50b to 52b, the possessor has no control because somebody else creates the possessee (picture, story or report) of/about the possessor. (50) a. ‘eku fakatātā b. hoku fakatātā

‘my‑A picture’ (i.e. a picture that I have painted/taken) ‘my‑O picture’ (i.e. a picture that is taken/painted of me)

(51) a. ‘eku talanoa b. hoku talanoa

‘my‑A story’ (i.e. a story that I have written/told/read) ‘my‑O story’ (i.e. a story that is about me)

(52) a. ‘eku fakamatala ‘my‑A report’ (i.e. a report that I make) b. hoku fakamatala ‘my‑O report’ (i.e. a report that is about me)

Wilson’s ‘initial control theory’ is even more productive (cf. Taumoefolau 1996) than has been acknowledged by most studies, such as Churchward (cf. 1953) and Wilson (cf. 1982: 19) himself: even body part terms which are considered as prototypically O can occur in A‑constructions as well (Example 53a).17 According to the definition, the difference of meaning is control over the initiation of the relationship. A possessor does not have control over the initiation of the relationship with his own body parts but he has, for example, control over the initiation of the relationship with body parts of animals or other people which he came to possess by killing its owner or in some other way.18 (53) a. ‘eku ‘ulu b. hoku ‘ulu

‘my‑A head’ (i.e. a head of an animal or a person that is mine, for example because I have killed the animal/person and taken its head) ‘my‑O head’ (i.e. my own head)

Further, Churchward (cf. 1953: 82) mentions huo ‘hoe’ as an exceptional O‑possessed item because, according to his semantic categories, tools and instruments are generally A‑possessed. Although Bennardo (cf. 2000c: 277; cf. §7.3.1) accounts for huo being O‑possessed through ‘initial control theory’, he does not treat it as a minimal pair. However, my own research has shown that axe (toki) and hoe

17.  Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 19.11.2002) was first not aware of any context in which body part terms would occur with A‑possessives until I constructed example 53a which he has confirmed. 18.  I could even imagine another context in which body part terms occur in A‑constructions: if students of an art class are practicing drawing faces and the teacher takes one of the drawings and asks whose face it is, the student may answer ‘it is my face’. In this case, the possessor has control over the initiation of the possessive relationship which requires the use of an A‑­possessive.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

(huo) can occur in A‑ and in O‑contexts in Tongan (cf. Note 12), as well as broom (taufale). It follows the same pattern that applies for house and table (in examples 47 and 48), and consequently, ‘initial control theory’ also explains Example 54. (54) a. ‘eku huo ‘my‑A hoe’ (i.e. the hoe that I have made); ‘my‑A hoeing’ (activity) b. hoku huo ‘my‑O hoe’ (i.e. the hoe that I own)

Taumoefolau’s statement that all Tongan nouns can occur in A‑ and O‑contexts (which she proves only for a small sample of concrete nouns) is not supported by several other Tongan native speakers, such as Vatau (personal communication, 26.2.2003) and ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 21.10.2004). They claim that certain words (such as ‘eku me‘alele ‘my‑A vehicle’19; hoku mokopuna ‘my‑O grandchild’) can only occur either in A‑ or in O‑constructions.20 Excursus: A‑ and O‑possession with landmarks The research data focusing on landmarks shows that all places and landscapes are O‑possessed while only the terms for garden and earth oven are A‑possessed. The O‑possessed places and landscapes are:‘uta ‘inland/bush’, mo‘unga ‘mountain’, tele‘a ‘valley’, vaitafe ‘river’, ‘ana ‘cave’, vaotā ‘forest’, motu ‘island’, tahi ‘sea’, matātahi ‘beach’, liku ‘cliffbound coast’, hakau ‘reef ’, fanga ‘bay/ lagoon’, māmani ‘world’, langi ‘sky’, fonua ‘land’, ‘api ‘household land/allotment’, kelekele ‘ground/ soil’, kolo ‘village/town’, fa‘itoka ‘cemetery’, feitu‘u ‘place’, etc. Even this can be explained according to ‘initial control theory’. A possessor has no control over the initiation of the relationship with all the above mentioned O‑possessed places and landscapes. All these places are given, such as the land/country (fonua) where one is born. Even the household land (‘api) which is normally determined through inheritance (or traditionally, it was given to a commoner by his chief) is O‑possessed as the possessor has no control over the initiation of this relationship. Consequently, the village (kolo) and its cemetery (fa‘itoka) are determined as well. For women, their new village and allotment after a marriage is normally determined through residential rules (such as virilocality), and the village and allotment of children is given by birth (i.e. their parents’ village and allotment). Only the areas which are created by the possessor on their land, like the garden (ngoue) or the earth oven (‘umu), are A‑possessed because the possessor has control over the initiation of these relationships.

19.  Modern items (such as kā ‘car’) are treated similarly to comparable traditional items (‘eku kā ‘my‑A car’); in this example traditional vehicles. This shows that the possessive category is applied in a consistent productive way (cf. Mulloy & Rapu 1977: 24). 20.  However, it is possible that they (although being native Tongan speakers) were simply not aware of other contexts if these are rare (see Note 17; cf. Taumoefolau 1996: 301–302).



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

However, Taumoefolau (personal communication, 22.4.2003) argues that ‘api, for example, cannot only occur with O‑possessives but also in A‑contexts. If it is the land in a game (for example Monopoly) which I can acquire, ‘eku ‘api ‘my‑A land/lot’ has to be used. Taumoefolau explains the use of A‑possession with ‘api according to her definition. The possessor (ego) is the ‘doer’ because he/she has to acquire the land, and the possessee (‘api) is the ‘activity’. If O is used (hoku ‘api ‘my‑O land’), it is the land which the possessor owns and lives on. Consequently, Taumoefolau argues that the possessor (ego) is the ‘whole’ and the possessee (‘api) is ‘part’ of the possessor. However, Taumoefolau’s example of ‘api (that is ‘api as minimal pair) can also be explained by Wilson’s ‘initial control theory’; in the case of ‘eku ‘api ‘my‑A allotment’, the possessor has control over the initiation of the possessive relationship by acquiring the possessee. Whereas the possessor has no control over the initiation of the relationship to his own real land (hono ‘api ‘his‑O allotment’) because land is generally inherited in Tonga (cf. §3.1). In this context, Wilson’s definition is even more precise than Taumoefolau’s because Taumoefolau can only describe ‘api in ‘ene ‘api ‘his‑A allotment’ as a metaphorical ‘activity’. Furthermore, the possessor is not only a ‘doer’ but, more concretely, an initiator of the A‑possessed relationship. Terms for natural materials like sand (‘one‘one) or stone (maka) can be A‑ and O‑possessed. If it is sand or stone which is used for building, A is used, and if the sand or stone is just on my land, O is used. To explain this use both Wilson’s and Taumoefolau’s approaches are appropriate. The possessor has control over the initiation of the relationship and at the same time is the ‘doer’ if he uses the sand or stone for building; this control is absent if the sand or stone is just ‘part’ of the possessor’s land without his agency. Therefore A and O are used in the same way as with plants and buildings (cf. Examples 46 and 47). Another context in which hono maka ‘his/her‑O stone’ occurs is in reference to a memorial stone, such as in a cemetery. According to the O‑possessed examples of story and report (in examples 51b and 52b), the memorial stone is about the possessor and he cannot have control over the initiation of the possessive relationship because it is made after his death.

To sum up the use of A‑ and O‑possession in Tongan, Wilson’s control theories (preferably the ‘initial control theory’) including the default principle are the most precise and productive definitions. If the possessor has control over the initiation of the possessive relationship, A is used,whereas O is used if this control is absent or unspecified. Churchward’s and Taumoefolau’s definitions of A and O are not as precise as the ‘initial control theory’. In all A‑possessed cases in which the possessor has control over the initiation of the possessive relationship, he is automatically ‘active, influential or formative’ towards the possessed and can be called a ‘doer’. In some O‑possessed cases, Churchward’s definition is even inappropriate because it does not include the initial control idea (Examples  46 to 49), and Taumoefolau can explain several possessees only as metaphorical ‘parts’ or metaphorical ‘activities’ (Examples 51 to 53) which is a diffuse definition, and in those cases, the use of A or O seems to be unpredictable and arbitrary.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Wilson’s ‘initial control theory’ is even more productive than described in most approaches because even body part terms (prototypically inalienable possessees) form minimal pairs according to the semantic context. This seems to support Taumoefolau’s claim that each noun can be A‑ and O‑possessed but to prove it, a larger sample of possessees must be investigated. Taumoefolau’s claim would only be upheld if all form minimal pairs (including prototypical A‑ or O‑possessees). 7.3.2.2  The use of A and O with Tongan kinship terms The semantic category of kin is generally described as inalienable (cf. Heine 1997:  10–11) but in Polynesian languages only some kinship relations are O‑­possessed while others require A‑constructions. Most studies about A‑ and O‑possession in Polynesian languages struggle to explain the selection of A or O with kinship terms according to the semantic definitions of A and O that work for other possessive relationships (cf. §7.3.1). In particular Tongan kinship terms provide examples that seem to contradict semantic rules (cf. Clark 2000: 266), for example most of Churchward’s exceptions involve kinship terms (cf. Appendix 3). In contrast to most approaches which describe single kinship terms as either A‑ or O‑possessed (cf. Churchward 1953: 82, 84; Wilson 1982: 30–35), Taumoefolau has shown that they form minimal pairs like other concrete nouns.21 Fa‘ē ‘mother’ who is mostly A‑possessed (Example 42: ‘my mother’) can also occur in a more specific and less frequent O‑context (Example 43: ‘mother of the year’). However, the possessive construction in 43 does not describe a kinship relation but is used metaphorically. So an explanation for the kinship relation between ego and his/her mother being A‑possessed remains to be found. In this section, I will explain and discuss several approaches which might determine the use of A and O with Tongan kinship terms describing kinship relations: the ‘simple control theory’, the ‘initial control theory’ and further considerations. The distribution of A and O with Tongan kinship terms (describing kinship relations) and with terms for other personal relations is listed in Table 7.8.22 This data forms the basis for the following analysis.

21.  Similar examples can also be found in other Polynesian languages, such as Hawaiian (cf. Wilson 1982: 17, 20): ke keiki a ka makuahine ‘the child of‑A the mother’ versus ka keiki o ka ‘āina ‘the child of‑O the land’. In both examples, a kinship term (child) is the possessee but only the first example describes a kinship relation. Therefore both Tongan and Hawaiian examples show that kinship relations are either A‑ or O‑possessed. 22.  This information is based on Churchward (cf. 1953: 82–86), Wilson (cf. 1982: 34) and interviews with ‘Aisea Hingano (19.11.2002 and 13.3.2003) and ‘Inoke Folau (3.12.2004).



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

Actually, most A‑possessed terms (tangata, ta‘ahine, fefine, tamasi‘i, fānau and pēpē) are primarily not real kin terms (for example tamasi‘i ‘child’) but they may be used as such (for example ‘eku tamasi‘i ‘my‑A child’). Table 7.8.  A‑ and O‑possessed terms describing kinship relations and other personal relationships in Tongan

kinship terms

A‑possessed

O‑possessed

kui ‘grandparents’ –  kui tangata ‘grandfather’ –  kui fefine ‘grandmother’ motu‘a ‘parent’; mātu‘a ‘parents’ tamai, ‘eiki* ‘father’ fa‘ē, fehuhu* ‘mother’ –  fa‘ē tangata ‘male mother’    (= tu‘asina) tama ‘child of a woman’ fakafotu ‘child of tuonga‘ane’

kāinga ‘extended family, relative’ fāmili ‘core family’

tangata ‘man’ fefine ‘older girl/woman’ ta‘ahine ‘younger girl/woman’ tamasi‘i ‘child, young person/boy’ –  tamasi‘i pusiaki‘i ‘son, who    lives at my home, may be    adopted’ fānau ‘children’ pēpē ‘baby’ uitou ‘widow’

tu‘asina ‘mother’s brothers’ mehekitanga ‘(eldest) father’s sister’ tokoua ‘same sex sibling’ ta‘okete ‘older same sex sibling’ tehina ‘younger same sex sibling’ tuofefine ‘sister of a boy’ tuonga‘ane ‘brother of a girl’ foha ‘son of a man; his real son’ ‘ofefine ‘daughter of a man’ ‘ilamutu ‘child of tuofefine’ mokopuna ‘grandchildren’ mali ‘husband or wife’; hoa ‘mate’

fahu ‘to be in an ‘eiki position at special occasions’ (= mehekitanga or her children) other personal relations

taha ngāue ‘employee’ ofisa kolo ‘town officer’ matāpule ‘chief ’s attendant and spokesman’

taki ngāue/pule ngāue ‘employer’ ‘Otua/‘Eiki ‘God’ tu‘i ‘king, sovereign’; kuini ‘queen’ nōpele ‘noble’; hou‘eiki ‘chief ’ kakai ‘ordinary people’ ‘ulumotu‘a ‘head of family’ kaume‘a ‘friend’ fili ‘ememy’

*Honorific forms: these are conspicuously ascribed to the same possessive category as their ordinary equivalent, that is kakai (cf. Chapter 8). This means that each person (no matter if it is a commoner, a chief or even the king) is regarded as fulfilling the same semantic criteria (such as control) vis‑à‑vis his own father/mother or the relationships.

a.  ‘Simple control theory’ (kinship relations) Based on the fact that social status among relatives is extremely important in Tongan society and that there is always a status difference expressed in the tu‘a‑‘eiki dichotomy (cf. §2.1.3), I expected this cultural background to be a determining factor in the selection of A‑ or O‑possession in kinship descriptions.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Relatives who are ‘eiki (those of higher status than ego) have control over the possessive relationship while those who are tu‘a (those of lower status than ego) are controlled. According to ‘simple control theory’ which defines A and O by presence or absence of control from the possessor’s point of view, this means that in a possessive construction of the form ‘my‑A X’ or ‘my‑O Y’ in which the possessor (ego) has control over the possessee (kin X), A‑possessives are used while O‑possession signifies that the possessor (ego) has no control over the possessee (kin Y). Based on Section 2.1.3, Table 7.9 summarises both relatives of lower status than the possessor (that is the possessor has control over them, and A is expected) and relatives of higher status than the possessor (that is the possessor has no control over them, and O is expected). A third group of kinship terms describes relatives who are neither clearly ‘eiki nor tu‘a, or terms which subsume ‘eiki as well as tu‘a relatives. In this group the choice of A‑ or O‑possession might be relatively arbitrary for each term, but O is more likely as it is the default case. Table 7.9.  Kinship relations and ‘simple control theory’ tu‘a relatives  expected to occur with A‑possessives

‘eiki relatives  expected to occur with O‑possessives

tu‘asina (O), fa‘ē tangata (A) tuonga‘ane (O) tehina (O) foha (O) ‘ofefine (O) fakafotu (A) uitou (A)

mehekitanga (O), fahu (A) tuofefine (O) ta‘okete (O) tamai (A) ‘ilamutu (O)

neither ‘eiki nor tu’a relatives or both summarised in one term  expected to occur with O‑ rather than A‑possessives tokoua (O) kui (A) fa‘ē (A) tama (A) mokopuna (O) mali (O) kāinga (O) fāmili (O)

It is also worth noting that the Tongan kinship terms are classificatory which means that for example the term for siblings also applies to cousins (cf. §2.1.2). As a consequence, it is possible that the relationship to one relative (e.g. one’s own grandchild) can be regarded as involving control or agency, while this is not the case for the relationship to another relative (e.g. a sibling’s grandchild) who is



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

described by the same term (mokopuna). Such cases could potentially result in different marking but actually, all collateral kin occur with the same possessive category (A or O) as the lineal kin (cf. Wilson 1982: 30–31). In Table 7.9, it becomes apparent that not all ‘eiki relatives are O‑possessed (for example ‘eku tamai ‘my‑A father’) and that most tu‘a relatives are actually O‑possessed although ‘simple control theory’ predicts the opposite. The terms that summarise ‘eiki and tu‘a relatives (such as the general term kāinga including all relatives) are in most cases O‑possessed but most of the relatives that are neither clearly tu‘a nor ‘eiki (such as kui ‘grandparents’, fa‘ē ‘mother’ and tama ‘child of a woman’) are actually A‑possessed. Therefore the ‘simple control theory’ (that is the relative hierarchy among relatives) can only explain the use of A‑ and O‑possession with some kin terms. One example is the relationship among affinal kin, i.e. spouses. The possessor does not have control over his/her spouse if both married partners are still alive, and therefore the term mali (describing ‘husband’ as well as ‘wife’) is O‑possessed (such as hoa ‘mate’). However, if one married partner dies, the deceased is ‘eiki with regard to the survivor (cf. §2.1.3). In this case, the possessor (the deceased) has control over the widow (uitou) which is expressed by A‑possession. Further examples according to ‘simple control theory’ include fakafotu and mehekitanga (cf. Figure 7.2a) as well as ‘ilamutu and fa‘ē tangata/tu‘asina (cf. Figure 7.2b); these are the two reciprocal relationships with the most significant status differences. Firstly, the possessor (a female ego) has superior status compared to her brother’s children (fakafotu). This means that the possessor controls the relationship, and therefore A is used (‘eku fakafotu ‘my‑A brother’s child’). The relationship between the same two individuals is O‑possessed from the opposite point of view (hoku mehekitanga ‘my‑O father’s sister’) because in this case, the possessor (ego) has no control over his/her mehekitanga who is ego’s highest ranked relative. Secondly, the possessor (a male ego) has lower status than his sister’s children (‘ilamtutu) and thus no control over them. In accordance with ‘simple control theory’, O‑possession occurs (hoku ‘ilamutu ‘my‑O sister’s child’). From the opposite point of view, the relationship between these two individuals should then be A‑possessed (my‑A mother’s brother) as ego has higher status than his mother’s brother (fa‘ē tangata or tu‘asina). Although fa‘ē tangata is in fact A‑possessed (‘eku fa‘ē tangata ‘my‑A mother’s brother’), its synonym tu‘asina is O‑possessed (hoku tu‘asina ‘my‑O mother’s brother’) which contradicts ‘simple control theory’. It is remarkable that two synonyms actually occur with different possessive categories but this may result from the fact that fa‘ē tangata (lit. ‘male mother’) is a compound of fa‘ē ‘mother’ and therefore treated similarly (A‑possessed). This would mean that the mother’s brother (tu‘asina) is regarded as not being controlled (O‑possessed) which cannot be explained by ‘simple control theory’.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Another case which is to be mentioned in this context is fahu. It means ‘to be in a superior position (above the law) at special occasions’ (cf. §2.1.3) and therefore refers either to the father’s sister (mehekitanga) or one of her children (‘ilamutu) who holds this position. Although mehekitanga and ‘ilamutu are O‑possessed (signifying that the possessor has no control over them), fahu is A‑possessed. This may be explained by Taumoefolau’s more general definition of A‑possession as ‘active’: ko ‘eku fahu ‘my‑A being in a fahu‑position’ indicates a certain behaviour or acting which is related to this task or position on special occasions; mehekitanga or ‘ilamutu act as fahu. b.

a. mehekitanga

fa‘ē tangata/ tu‘asina fakafotu

‘ilamutu

Figure 7.2.  Reciprocal kinship relations (a. fakafotu‑mehekitanga relationship; b. ilamutu‑fa‘ē tangata/tu‘asina relationship)

Mulloy & Rapu (cf. 1977: 11–13) and Thornton (cf. 1998: 382–389) trace the idea of control back to the hierarchy among the members of Polynesian societies and ultimately the concepts of mana and tapu. In ancient Polynesian societies, each individual had a unique rank or status so that he was higher or lower ranked than another person. The social status and power of an individual derived from the genealogical position into which he was born (cf. Chapter 2 for Tongan), and depending on this position, they had more or less mana. Mulloy & Rapu as well as Thornton finally draw the conclusion that A‑possession is used with social inferiors and indicates the superior mana of the possessor, while O‑possession occurs with social superiors who have more mana than the possessor and who are surrounded by more tapu (cf. Table 7.9). Thornton (cf. 1998: 385–386) mentions the sister’s child (irāmutu) as a person of great mana in Maori but in contrast to Tongan (‘ilamutu), it is A‑possessed (tāku īrāmutu ‘my‑A sister’s child’). This example is in fact an exception to the rule in Maori while it supports the rule in Tongan. Mulloy & Rapu (cf. 1977: 8–9) remark that those possessive relationships which are not predictable may be due to gradual language internal changes or language contact (such as lexical borrowing in Rapanui from Spanish – in this context the culturally determined kin categories have also changed). Only the first kind of change might explain the different treatment of irāmutu in Maori and ‘ilamutu in Tongan, as it is the same lexical item and no lexical borrowing from a language with different kin categories and concepts of social control has occurred.



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

b.  ‘Initial control theory’ (kinship relations) The ‘initial control theory’ claims that A‑possession implies the possessor’s control over the initiation of the possessive relationship. Most approaches (such as ­Wilson 1982:  30ff) treat spouses and children as typically A‑possessed kin, being relationships initiated by the possessor. Men and women (at least among commoners today) have control over the choice of their marriage partner, and parents control the initiation of the relationship with their children. Accordingly, in Tongan mali ‘husband or wife’, hoa ‘mate’, tama ‘child of a woman’, foha ‘son of a man’ and ‘ofefine ‘daughter of a man’ are expected to be A‑possessed and ‘initial control theory’ predicts O‑possession for all other kin relations (those which are characterised by an absence of the possessor’s control over the initiation of the relationship). In fact, of all expected A‑possessed kin terms only tama seems to confirm the rule (cf. Table 7.8). Concerning the relationship of husband and wife, the Tongan terms mali and hoa are O‑possessed while the same affinal kin relations are A‑possessed in Eastern Polynesian languages, such as Maori, Rapanui and Hawaiian. In Samoan and Tokelauan, there are A‑possessed as well as O‑possessed terms describing spouses and even in East Uvean (which has been strongly influenced by Tongan), the term for spouse (‘ohoana) is A‑possessed (cf. Appendix 2). Therefore Tongan is the only Polynesian language in which spouses are completely O‑possessed; either spouses are not regarded as having control over the initiation of the possessive relationship (for example in former times and within higher ranked classes people in fact were not free to choose their marriage partners) or they defy ‘initial control theory’. However, ‘simple control theory’ correctly predicts O‑possession (see above). Concerning the relationship with children, it is conspicuous that a mother’s child (tama) is A‑possessed while a son (foha) or daughter (‘ofefine) from a male perspective is O‑possessed. This classification prevails in non‑Eastern Polynesian languages such as Samoan, Tokelauan, East Uvean and Tongan (cf. Appendix 2). It can be argued that in those societies, only the woman is regarded as having control over the initiation of the relationship; she is the one who conceives, is pregnant and gives birth (cf. Næss 2000: 313). In contrast, in the Eastern Polynesian languages all children are A‑possessed, both from a female and male perspective. Given this pattern the ‘initial control theory’ seems to apply more consistently to the use of A‑and O‑possession with kinship relations in Eastern Polynesian languages than in the non‑Eastern Polynesian languages (cf. Wilson 1982: 30–35). In Eastern Polynesian languages, the kinship relations in which the possessor has control (also described as acquired, non‑inherited or chosen kin in Appendix 2), that is affinal kin (spouses) and kin of lower generations than ego (offspring), are A‑possessed while all other kin relations occur with O‑possessives. In contrast, the non‑Eastern Polynesian data shows a group of kin terms (such as *ma/okupuna ‘grandchild’ and *qila(a)mutu ‘nephew/niece’) that are O‑possessed although the

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

‘initial control theory’ predicts A‑possession.23 Consequently, the languages of the Samoic‑Outlier branch (i.e. non‑Eastern Polynesian except the Tongic languages) use O‑possession with all true kin terms and A‑possession only occurs with terms which are primarily not kin terms but may function as such, for example *faanau ‘children’ or *tama ‘child’. However, in Tongan, there is a further group of A‑possessed kin terms which also contradicts ‘initial control theory’ (cf. Wilson 1982: 33–34): why are kui ‘grandparents’, mātu’a ‘parents’, fa‘ē ‘mother’ and tamai ‘father’ A‑possessed although the possessor does not control the initiation of the relationship? In spite of the exceptions I will demonstrate that in Tongan the ‘initial control theory’ nevertheless seems to be the basic underlying concept. Besides, there are in fact more kinship relations which can be explained according to the ‘initial control theory’ than Wilson realises, such as ‘ilamutu which does not have to be regarded as exceptionally O‑possessed kin. In fact, taking cultural background knowledge into account actually confirms ‘initial control theory’. For kin within ego’s generation, ‘initial control theory’ is clearly the more appropriate underlying concept compared to ‘simple control theory’. This means that in these cases, the tu‘a‑‘eiki system does not seem to determine the choice of A‑ and O‑possession. The reciprocal relationship between same‑sex siblings (tokoua) is O‑possessed from both perspectives although the older same sex sibling (ta‘okete) has higher status and control over the younger one (tehina). Therefore ‘simple control theory’ fails as it predicts A‑possession for tehina (cf. Table 7.9). ‘Initial control theory’ instead correctly predicts O‑possession for both because neither of them has control over the initiation of the kinship relation with a sibling. For the same reason, opposite‑sex siblings reciprocally use O‑possession although tuofefine ‘sisters of a male ego’ are higher ranked and control their tuonga‘ane ‘brothers of a female ego’. Further, the reciprocal relationships between mehekitanga ‘father’s sister’ and fakafotu ‘brother’s child of a female ego’, and between tu‘asina ‘mother’s brother’ and ‘ilamutu ‘sister’s child of a male ego’ which have been explained above according to ‘simple control theory’ also serve as examples of ‘initial control theory’. The mehekitanga has control over the initiation of the possessive relationship with her brother’s children (‘ene fakafotu) which is expressed by the A‑possessive ‘ene because she has the power to control the birth (i.e. she can curse them to death just as she can provide a healthy birth) and she gives them their names (cf. §2.1.3). In contrast, the tu‘asina does not control the initiation of the relationship with his sister’s children (hono ‘ilamutu) which is therefore O‑possessed, just as the inverse relationships (hoku mehekitanga ‘my‑O father’s sister’; hoku tu‘asina

23.  However, in Tongan at least the ‘simple control theory’ correctly predicts O‑possession for ‘ilamutu because the possessor has lower status and thus no control (see above).



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

‘my‑O ­mother’s brother’) because a possessor of a younger generation has no control over the initiation of the relationship. From this point of view, the synonym of tu‘asina, fa‘ē tangata, contradicts ‘initial control theory’ because it is A‑possessed although the relationship is not initiated by the possessor. Fa‘ē tangata (as a compound of fa‘ē) is treated in the same way as fa‘ē ‘mother’ and tamai ‘father’ that are also irregularly A‑possessed according to ‘initial control theory’. Concerning children, we have seen above that only the mother (and not the father) is regarded as having control over the initiation of the relationship with her own children. In this context, it is interesting to observe how adopted children are linguistically treated in comparison to the parents’ biological children. Tamasi‘i is actually not a real kinship term as it is a general description for ‘child/young person’ but it is also used in the sense of ‘adopted son/daughter’ (tamasi‘i pusiaki‘i). In accordance with ‘initial control theory’, the adopted child is A‑possessed as the possessor (father and mother) has control over the initiation of the relationship by adopting the child. The reciprocal kinship relation between relatives two generations above and below ego seems to contradict ‘initial control theory’ as well. Kui ‘grandparent’ belongs to the small group of exceptionally A‑possessed cases as the possessor (that is the grandchild) does not control the initiation of the possessive relationship. Instead mokopuna ‘grandchild’ can be regarded as supporting ‘initial control theory’. As in Tongan only the mother and not the father is ascribed control over the initiation of the relationship with their children, the grandparents do not control the initiation of the relationship with their grandchildren either. Accordingly, mokopuna ‘grandchild’ is O‑possessed. Summarising, for most kinship relations (even for some of Churchward’s exceptions listed in Appendix 3), the use of A‑ or O‑possession can be explained by control theories, especially ‘initial control theory’. However, in Tongan, there is a small group of kinship relations that contradicts this semantic rule. Table 7.10 gives an overview Table 7.10.  Kinship relations and ‘initial control theory’ generation Kin term G:0 G:+/–1

G:+/‑2 affines

initial control theory reciprocal kin term initial control theory

tokoua ta‘okete tuonga‘ane fa‘ē tamai

O O O exceptional A exceptional A

tokuoa tehina tuofefine tama foha ‘ofefine fakafotu ‘ilamutu

mehekitanga tu‘asina fa‘ē tangata kui mali

O O exceptional A exceptional A mokopuna O (exceptional, but mali not from a traditional chiefly perspective)

O O O A O O A O O O (exceptional, but not from a traditional chiefly perspective)

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

of the reciprocal kinship relations which can be explained according to ‘initial control theory’ (A or O) and those which contradict the rule (exceptional A or O). It becomes obvious that fa‘ē, tamai and kui are A‑possessed although ‘initial control theory’ (as well as ‘simple control theory’) would clearly predict O‑­possession as the possessor has no control, neither over them nor over the initiation of the relationship. The following analysis of other personal relationships will show that control theories (especially ‘initial control theory’) can be regarded as the underlying ­concept of A‑ and O‑possession in Tongan. In the final section, I will present further considerations which may lead towards an explanation of the exceptional cases. In this context, it is interesting that ‘mother’, ‘father’ and ‘grandparents’ are actually A‑possessed in Tongan (and a few languages which have been strongly influenced by Tongan) in contrast to most other Polynesian languages. c.  ‘Simple’ or ‘initial control theory’ (other personal relationships) The relationship between employee (taha ngāue) and employer (taki ngāāue or pule ngāue) can be explained according to both control theories. A possessor has control over his employee as well as over the initiation of the relationship (by employment) which is expressed by A‑possession. Accordingly, the opposite relationship is O‑possessed as the possessor has no such control over his employer and the initiation of the relationship. As we have seen so far, ‘initial control theory’ is preferable to ‘simple control theory’ (cf. §7.3.2.1). Yet, is this also the case for the following personal relationships? Most personal relationships in Table 7.8 describe members of Tongan society with different positions and rank (cf. §2.2.1). God and the king or queen (as closest descendants of the divine line) have the most mana and are the highest ranked members of the Tongan society. Therefore no possessor has control over them and ‘simple control theory’ correctly predicts O‑possession. However, in this case the commoners should not be O‑possessed as they are the lowest ranked members of the Tongan society and a possessor is likely to be ranked more highly. Moreover, the linguistic treatment of chiefs (hou‘eiki and nōpele) provides a further problem in reference to ‘simple control theory’. From the king’s perspective (that is a higher ranked possessor), A‑possession should be used as he has control over his chiefs but from a commoner’s perspective, there is no such control over the chief which would have to be expressed by O‑possession. However, the relationship between chief and possessor is, in fact, always expressed with an O‑possessive regardless of the possessor’s status. In contrast, ‘initial control theory’ correctly explains the use of all personal relations listed in Table 7.8. God (‘Otua or ‘Eiki), the king or sovereign (tu‘i) and



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

the queen (kuini) are O‑possessed because the possessor has no control over the initiation of the relationship; they are determined through the presence of mana (which is inherited, given by birth) and the possessor does not choose or elect them (cf. §2.2.1). The possessor does not control the initiation of the relationship with his chief (hou‘eiki or nōpele) as it was traditionally determined through the land (belonging to a chief) on which one has lived (cf. §2.2.1). From the opposite point of view, a chief could not choose the people (kakai) who lived on his land either because residence was a matter of choice for the people (cf. §3.1). Therefore hou‘eiki, nōpele and kakai are all O‑possessed. Finally, the use of O‑possession with ‘ulumotu‘a ‘head of family’ can be explained accordingly as the possessor has no control over the initiation of the possessive relationship, that is the ‘ulumotu‘a is not chosen or elected but the title is passed on according to a fixed pattern within the family (cf. §2.1.1). In contrast to all these personal relations, ofisa kolo ‘town officer’ and matāpule ‘chief ’s attendant/spokesman’ are A‑possessed which indicates the possessor’s control over the initiation of these relationships. In fact, a town officer is elected by the village people and a matāpule is appointed by the chief to whom he is associated (cf. §2.2.1). The only exceptions to ‘initial control theory’ are kaume‘a ‘friend’ and fili ‘enemy’ because they are O‑possessed although the possessor has control over the initiation of the relationship by making friends or enemies. However, in these cases, ‘simple control theory’ could explain the use of O‑possession. A possessor does not necessarily have control over his friends or enemies who might be of higher as well as of lower status than himself. d.  Further explanatory considerations (kinship relations) According to Wilson (cf. 1982: 30), it is not surprising that there are irregularities concerning the use of A‑ and O‑possession with kin terms in Polynesian languages because kin relations are treated differently from other possessions in most Oceanic languages. Most Oceanic languages use direct possessive constructions with all or at least some kin terms (cf. Lynch 1998: 122–130; cf. §7.1). At the time when Polynesian languages lost this possibility of direct possession, the kin relations were consequently assigned to one of the two kinds of indirect possession (i.e. A‑ or O‑possession). During this process, different semantic criteria might have been taken into consideration just as at a later stage, their emphasis might have changed within the various Polynesian languages or language subgroups. Wilson (cf. 1982:  37) reconstructs the following terms for Proto‑Polynesian as occurring in direct constructions with the independent suffix *‑na: *tahi‑na ‘younger same‑sex sibling’, *tuaka‑na ‘older same‑sex sibling’, *tina‑na ‘mother’, *tama‑na ‘father’, *makupu‑na ‘grandchild’ and *tupu‑na ‘grandparent’. At least for Tongan, it can be observed that this group of kin is not entirely assigned

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

to one of the two possessive categories (cf. Wilson 1982:  35) although Lynch (cf. 2000: 239–241) assumes that kin generally merged with the O‑category. Tehina ‘younger same‑sex sibling’, ta‘okete ‘older same‑sex sibling’ and mokopuna ‘grandparent’ are O‑possessed, the others are A‑possessed. However, in Tongan the only kin terms still ending -na (although it no longer functions as independent ­possessive suffix) are tehina and mokopuna which are actually both O‑possessed. In this context, it is remarkable that the Tongan kin terms for ‘mother’ and ‘grandparent’ which are A‑possessed (in contrast to the predictions of both control theories) have changed over time as they differ lexically from the Proto‑Polynesian terms. All Polynesian protolanguages as well as most present Polynesian languages still use the term *tupuna to describe grandparents but in Tongan, grandparents are called kui. The Tongan term for mother (fa‘ē) is also quite different from Proto‑Polynesian (*tinana) and its derivations in other Polynesian languages (for example tinā in Samoan).24 However, tamai ‘father’, the third exceptionally A‑­possessed kinship term, can be traced back to the Proto‑Polynesian form of *tamana (cf. Marck 1996: 198–199, 209–215). It is conspicuous that Tongan and East Uvean25 (cf. Appendix 2) both use the terms kui, fa‘ē and tamai, and that these are the only Polynesian languages in which ‘mother’, ‘father’ and ‘grandparents’ are A‑possessed in contradiction to ‘control theories’. This leads to the assumption that the possessive category might have shifted as a consequence of lexical changes (from Proto‑Polynesian). This may explain the exceptional use of A‑possession with kui and fa‘ē but without linguistic and cultural information from that time (that is diachronic data), it is impossible to consider whether the possessive category was originally O and whether this shift was determined by cultural factors. Concerning Tuvaluan, Besnier (2000: 322–323) suggests that affection or emotional colouring may play a part in these shifts (cf. Clark 2000: 266): “inalienable possession appears in some contexts to be affectively more charged than alienable possession”, that is O‑possession expresses, for example, greater respect towards the possessee. This is coherent with the general concept that alienable relations (for example my car) express more distant relations than inalienable relations (for example my own head) in which the possessor and possessee form a closer unit.

24.  Only in Maori we find a similar lexical item for ‘mother’ like in Tongan (whaea). However, in contrast to fa‘ē, whaea is O‑possessed (cf. Appendix 2). 25.  East Uvean has been strongly influenced by Tongan since the end of the 17th century with kinship terms borrowed from Tongan, such as (kui) fafine ‘grandmother’, tamai ‘father’, tu‘asina ‘mother’s brother’, mahikitanga ‘father’s sister’, tehina ‘younger same‑sex sibling’, etc. (cf. Marck 1996: 210, 215–216, 222). Along with these lexical borrowings, they probably also adopted the possessive categories for these terms.



Chapter 7.  A‑ and O‑possession 

However, regarding Tongan kinship relations, this approach does not seem to provide any explanation as fa‘ē ‘mother’ and kui ‘grandparents’ are exceptions with their A‑possession although they are emotionally close to ego. Actually, most A‑possessed kin (especially the exceptional A‑possessed ones) are members of the core family which is (because of Western influence – in contrast to the traditional extended family) the present unit of close contact in daily life. Control over each other in daily life may therefore be regarded as a criterion for A‑possession in some of these cases (for example between a mother and her children).26 Another explanation for these shifts may be a general gradual change in Polynesian languages from O‑possession to A‑possession. In Niuean which only has A‑­possessive forms left, language change even resulted in the complete loss of the A/O distinction (cf. Lynch 1998: 130; Clark 2000: 267).27 In Tongan, this might explain the exceptions of A‑possessed kin relations (for example fa‘ē, tamai and kui). ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 21.10.2004) has observed another tendency among Tongan pupils which might be analysed as gradual change; mehekitanga (which is O‑possessed according to both ‘control theories’) and other Tongan O‑possessed kin terms are sometimes misused with A‑possessives. According to ‘Aisea Hingano, this use of A‑possession might be explained by the Western attitude that individuals think they have influence or control over nearly everything. In the case of mehekitanga, he has observed that A‑possessives are used if a child derides his mehekitanga.28 This might be regarded as a conscious choice and instrumentalisation of control theory because, in such a context, the mehekitanga is not respected (in her traditional position) and the A‑possessive indicates her lack of control. 7.4  Conclusion In Tongan (as in other Polynesian languages), two different possessive categories (A‑ and O‑possession) are used to describe possessive relationships. This Chapter

26.  This explanation is even applicable to the opposite kind of relationships, such as the relationship between siblings of opposite sex: tuonga‘ane ‘brother’ and tuofefine ‘sister’. Their relationship is characterised by the prohibition of close (physical) contact in daily life. They do not therefore have direct control over each other in daily life, and accordingly, both are O‑possessed. 27.  In this context, it is interesting that the unmarked or default form of the A/O opposition, that is the O‑possessive forms (cf. Bauer 1993: 210), disappears while the A‑set (marking ‘control’) remains. 28.  Morton Lee (cf. 2003: 96ff, 157) has observed changing attitudes among Tongans living overseas (especially children) towards the relative status hierarchy. Especially in daily life, it is common that the relationship between children and their mehekitanga is not determined by respect and distance any more (cf. §2.1.3). This supports ‘Aisea Hingano’s observations.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

has shown that the A/O distinction cannot be regarded as a noun class system in which the possessed items can be assigned to one of the two categories. Minimal pairs (i.e. the same possessed item can be related to the possessor by A and O with a difference in meaning) demonstrate that the choice of A‑ or O‑possessives not only depends on the possessee’s features but on the kind of possessive relationship between possessor and possessee. Therefore A‑ and O‑possession can be defined semantically. The most appropriate definition is provided by ‘control theories’ which conceives O‑possession as the default case: A‑possession implies the possessor’s control over the possessee (‘simple control theory’) or over the initiation of the possessive relationship (‘initial control theory’), and O‑possession is used elsewhere (that is if such control is absent or if nothing is said about it). In Tongan, the most productive definition of A‑ and O‑possession with concrete nouns is ‘initial control theory’ which is preferable to ‘simple control theory’. Minimal pairs (based on this semantic definition) demonstrate that even prototypical inalienable or O‑possessed items such as body part terms can also occur in A‑constructions. It is noteworthy that even the use of the two possessive categories with most kinship relations and other personal relationships can be explained by ‘initial control theory’ although the cultural background of a highly stratified social structure leads to the assumption that the status difference between possessor and possessee (the relative tu‘a/‘eiki hierarchy) provides the foundation. This would favour ‘simple control theory’, where the higher ranked person has more mana and control over the lower ranked. Although the distinction between A‑ and O‑possessed kinship relations is based more on ‘initial control theory’ than on ‘simple control theory’ and therefore the relative hierarchy, the system of A‑ and O‑possession still reflects social concepts, as demonstrated by the case of mother’s versus father’s children. While the mother is considered as having control over the initiation of the relationship with her children (‘eku tama ‘my‑A child’), the father has no such control (hoku foha/‘ofefine ‘my‑O son/daughter’). In the cases of fa‘ē ‘mother’, tamai ‘father’ and kui ‘grandparent’, even both ‘control theories’ fail to provide an explanation as the possessive category used (A) contradicts the nature of the kinship relation. These exceptions might only be explained by a shift of the possessive category – maybe as a consequence of lexical changes, such as within the kinship terminology, or general gradual changes, such as of the possessive categories. These explanations are based on synchronic Polynesian data but only diachronic data of linguistic and cultural changes could provide more definite information.

chapter 8

The language of respect The language of respect is an interesting subject for sociolinguistics or ethnolinguistics as its use is deeply anchored in sociocultural parameters. As we have seen so far, the social hierarchy determines a whole range of appropriate social behaviour, and this also includes linguistic behaviour: the language of respect. What is meant by the language of respect is the different lexical levels (i.e. sets of lexemes) which are used depending on the context of communication. The language of respect is an honorific system used to indicate relative rank or respect between speech act participants. The Tongan language of respect consists of three different lexical levels: –– one associated with the king, –– another one with the chiefs, –– and a third one with the commoners. Such an honorific system is not found in all Polynesian languages but it is a characteristic feature of Western Polynesian languages, especially Tongan and Samoan. These are chiefly societies which provide the cultural background of extensive social stratification. In the first section, the different types of social deixis and honorifics which exist in the languages of the world will be defined and examples will be presented. Then the Western Polynesian languages of respect will be discussed in Section 8.2, before I focus on the Tongan language of respect (in comparison to Samoan) in Section 8.3. It will first be assigned to one of the honorific types presented in Section 8.1, followed by a more detailed analysis concerning its semantics and discourse contexts. Firstly, the different Tongan lexical levels will be discussed with the aim of determining the most appropriate categorisation. This section will end with an extensive list of Tongan respect vocabulary. The vocabulary of respect will then be analysed semantically in search of answers to the following questions: –– For which words do respectful equivalents exist, and where did these forms originate? –– Why do respectful equivalents exist only for some words?

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Finally, the use of different lexical levels will be described in detail and embedded in context. Research data about honorific language use within the royal family and its use on a village level will provide important additional information about: –– Who uses which lexical level in reference to whom? –– What happens in special speech situations or special constellations of speech act participants?

8.1  Social deixis: Honorifics Honorifics are a linguistic strategy used in numerous languages to express politeness taking into account differences in status and social position. Consequently such linguistic systems are well known in societies with extensive social stratification, such as in Tonga (cf. Chapter 2). Levinson (cf. 1983: 89–94, based on Fillmore 1975; cf. Foley 1997: 313–326) describes honorifics as a form of ‘social deixis’. In contrast to the T/V system (for example the use of Latin tu in informal and vos in formal polite contexts) which is probably the best known type of social deixis, honorifics involve a special class of words or grammatical morphemes whose only function is to indicate the difference in status or rank between speaker, addressee, other participants or overhearer, setting, etc. Thus, honorifics are also called ‘relational’ deixis as they encode relations that are important in the speech event. Brown & Levinson (1987: 179), in pointing out these aspects, give the following definition of honorifics: By ‘honorifics’ in an extended sense we understand direct grammatical encodings of relative social status between participants, or between participants and persons or things referred to in the communication event.

On the basis of the relational character of honorifics, Comrie (1976 in Levinson 1983: 90) distinguishes three main types: 1. ‘Addressee honorifics’: these are honorifics that encode a deictic relation (concerning relative rank) between the speaker and the hearer or addressee of the communicative event. 2. ‘Referent honorifics’: these are honorifics that encode a deictic relation (concerning relative rank) between the speaker and things or persons referred to. 3. ‘Bystander or audience honorifics’: these are honorifics that encode a deictic relation (concerning relative rank) between speaker (or hearer) and bystander or overhearers.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

Another relation which is often added (cf. Levinson 1983:  90–91) is the one between the speaker and the situation/setting, although these are not honorifics. Levinson (cf. 1983: 90) calls this grammaticalised distinction between formal and informal settings ‘formality levels’. Diglossic variants, that is two different languages or language varieties used in different situations, are typical examples of formality levels. Brown & Levinson (cf. 1987:  178) characterise social deixis (honorifics) as a strategy to ‘give deference’. The aim of encoding the relative social status or rank between speech act participants is mostly the prevention of potential ‘face-threatening acts’ to these participants, i.e. addressee, referent or bystander. Brown & Levinson (1987: 178; explanation by the author, S.V.) distinguish two ways to give deference by expressing that the hearer is of higher social status or rank than the speaker: either “S [i.e. speaker] humbles and abases himself or S raises H [i.e. hearer]”. There are two further potential options marking a difference of status or rank between speaker and hearer: the speaker could either raise himself or abase the hearer. However, these two options of demonstrating the speaker’s higher social status or rank compared to the hearer have a condescending effect and are therefore perceived as unfriendly (cf. Brown & Levinson 1987: 178). For that reason, they generally do not occur in natural languages. All these possibilities of rank/status encoding are not restricted to the relationship between speaker and hearer. According to the four types of honorifics, they can be transferred to the difference of status or rank between speaker and referent, between speaker and bystander and between speaker and situation. Table 8.1 gives an overview. Table 8.1.  Status differences according to honorific types difference of speaker-hearer status between: (addressee honorifics)

speaker-referent speaker-bystander speaker-situation (referent (bystander (formality levels) honorifics) honorifics)

strategies to ‘give deference’:

S raises H S raises R S abases himself S abases himself

S raises B S abases himself

S raises SIT S abases himself

NOT used!

S abases H S raises himself

S abases B S raises himself

S abases SIT S raises himself

S abases R S raises himself

Within the relevant literature, examples of pure addressee honorifics can hardly be found. Haase (cf. 1994: 34, 107–108) only mentions the grammaticalised respectful reference to family members in Basque. Addressee honorifics are so rare because this type is confined to the difference of status or rank if the speaker and hearer address each other directly (i.e. you and I), and it is hard to encode

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

this relationship without referring to the context. Accordingly, Comrie (1976 in Levinson 1983:  90) categorises the expression of politeness by distinguishing singular pronouns of address in an extended sense as referent honorifics “where the referent happens to be the addressee”. This T/V distinction can be found in quite a few languages, such as in French (tu and vous) and German (du and Sie). Referent honorifics are the most wide-spread type of honorifics. East and Southeast Asian languages such as Japanese, Korean and Javanese, are famous for honorific systems that are combinations of addressee and referent honorifics (cf. Levinson 1983:  90). Haase (cf. 1994:  34, 110–111) further mentions Romanian as a language with ‘addressee’ as well as ‘referent’ honorific elements, even though to a less grammaticalised degree than East and Southeast Asian languages. As examples of bystander honorifics, Levinson (cf. 1983: 90–91) mentions the alternative vocabulary in Dyirbal which is used in the presence of taboo relatives, as well as certain aspects of the royal honorifics in Ponapean. Finally, diglossic variants are typical formality levels. The distinction between formal and informal settings is then linguistically encoded (for example by the choice of standard German versus Swiss German or German dialects) and demonstrates, for instance, the social standing of the speaker. Examples of honorifics show that they can be encoded at different levels of a linguistic system, including phonology, morphology, syntax and the lexicon, that is in the grammatical as well as in the lexical systems of a language (cf. Levinson 1983: 92–93; Haase 1994: 105; Foley 1997: 319). In Japanese, the ‘addressee’ honorific elements are encoded morphologically by affixes. In Modern Greek, particles are used to express a familiar relationship to the addressee, and in Tamil, Hindi and Romanian, the honorifics take the form of particles or affixes. Moreover, we find honorifics encoded in segmental phonology (for example Basque) and in prosodics (for example Tzeltal), and quite often, there is a mixture of different levels of linguistic encoding. In some other languages, like Dyirbal, the honorifics are also encoded lexically in alternative vocabulary (cf. Dixon 1972). In Guugu-Yimidhirr, respect is also expressed with regard to tabooed in-law relatives through alternative vocabulary and avoidance; they should not be addressed directly (but rather through an intermediary) and one must speak slowly and softly (cf. Haviland 1978; Foley 1997: 327).

8.2  Western Polynesian languages of respect As mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, a language of respect is not a feature of all Polynesian languages. It is remarkable that this kind of honorific system only occurs in Western Polynesia, that is some languages of the Proto Tongic and



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

Proto Samoic-Outlier branches of the Polynesian language family (cf. Figure 1.1). However, not all languages of these two branches have such a linguistic respect system. Tongan and Samoan are particularly well-known for their language of respect (cf. Lynch 1998:  257–258), and honorifics are also found in Uvean and Futunan (cf. Krupa 1982: 165). Curiously Niuean, the only other member of the Proto-Tongic branch, does not have a language of respect while Tongan does (cf. Whittaker 1982). This raises the question of why the language of respect exists only in the languages mentioned. Lynch (1998: 257) describes the languages with an honorific system as the languages of “the chiefly societies of western Polynesia”. The chiefly societies provide the cultural background of a strong hierarchical social structure which is of such cultural importance that it is even expressed linguistically. Tonga, Samoa, Hawaii and the Society Islands have often been described as the most highly stratified societies of Polynesia (cf. Sahlins 1958; Goldman 1970; Howard & Kirkpatrick 1989: 60–66). While the highly stratified societies of Western Polynesia (Tonga and Samoa) have a language of respect, it is not found in Hawaii and the Society Islands although these cultures also provide the corresponding cultural background. It is interesting to consider whether the language of respect never developed in Eastern Polynesia or whether it was lost. Noting that a language of respect is only present in Western Polynesia, Krupa (1982: 165) draws the following conclusion: Comparative study of individual languages shows that the category of courtesy developed after the break-up of the Proto-Polynesian language and has remained restricted to the Western Polynesian cultural sub-domain (Samoa, Tonga, Uvea, Futuna).

According to the Polynesian language family tree (cf. Figure 1.1), the language of respect developed after the Proto Tongic (including Tongan) and the Proto Samoic (including Samoan, Uvean, and Tuvaluan) branches split off. However, the lack of a language of respect in the Eastern Polynesian languages could also be explained by its loss in Proto Eastern Polynesian.1 Milner (cf. 1961: 300) further remarks that Samoa, Tonga, Wallis (Uvea) and Futuna not only share this linguistic feature but they generally have many cultural features in common. This is due to the strong Tongan and Samoan influence

.  The ancestral Proto-Polynesian language seems to be spoken in the area of Eastern Fiji, Tonga, Samoa, Wallis and Futuna (cf. Besnier 1992: 245) which corresponds to the area where such lexical honorific systems (a language of respect) are found. Thus, the question is whether Proto-Polynesian had a language of respect. If this was the case, it has been lost in the Eastern Polynesian languages, and if not, it developed after the Proto Tongic and the Proto Samoic branches split off from the Eastern Polynesian branch.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

on Wallis and Futuna; Wallis was once conquered and colonised by Tongans, and Futuna and Samoa were closely related at several times (cf. Douaire-Marsaudon 1997:  261; van der Grijp 2005:  311). During this time Uvean also borrowed extensively from the Tongan lexicon (cf. Besnier 1992: 249).

8.3  The Tongan language of respect (compared to Samoan) The Tongan language of respect is restricted to the lexicon and does not concern the grammar or other levels of the linguistic system (cf. Churchward 1953: 304).2 In addition to the common vocabulary there are two further sets of special lexemes to honour and respect people of higher rank. The respectful vocabulary is a limited set of polite words; not all common words have a polite or a respectful equivalent. The semantic analysis in Section 8.3.2 describes the metaphorical character of the respectful terminology, leading on to an explanation of the development and function of this honorific system. The language of respect consists of a three-way lexical distinction to refer to the same actions or items of commoners versus chiefs versus the king: common words (kakai ‘language of the common people’) and two sets of respectful words (hou‘eiki ‘language of the chiefs’ & tu‘i ‘language of the king’). These three lexical levels3 correspond to the three levels of rank in Tongan societal hierarchy (cf. §2.2.1). Respect between the different societal levels is expressed by the use of the corresponding lexical level. Tongan societal hierarchy and lexical levels are: –– tu‘i (king) –– hou‘eiki (nobles and other chiefs), and –– kakai (commoners, people). The few papers on the Samoan language of respect (Milner 1961; Duranti 1992) all point out that the Samoan honorific system is quite similar to the Tongan language of respect. The Samoan system also consists of a limited number of polite

.  In contrast to the East and Southeast Asian languages (e.g. Javanese, Balinese, Japanese, etc.) which are famous for their linguistically complex honorific systems (cf. Foley 1997: 323–326), the Western Polynesian languages of respect mark respect only lexically (vocabulary of respect). .  This description is more precise and appropriate than ‘language levels’ (cf. Taliai 1989), ‘speech levels’ (cf. Philips 1991) or ‘speech styles’ (cf. Lynch 1998) all of which are used to refer to different lexical levels depending on the referent’s societal rank. The term ‘language levels’, for example, leads to the assumption that the language of respect concerns different linguistic levels (such as phonology, morphology and/or syntax) but it is a purely lexical system.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

or respectful words for titled persons (matai) and a general level of lexical items including ordinary words associated with commoners or untitled people (taulele‘a) (cf. Duranti 1992: 80–83; Mosel & Hovdhaugen 1992: 8). The main difference between the Tongan and the Samoan social hierarchy and the language of respect is that the Samoan system has only two levels instead of Tongan’s three (cf. Lynch 1998: 257–258). Samoa has never had a king as head of its society, and consequently the highest level is missing in the societal and the linguistic structure. Samoan social hierarchy and lexical levels are: –– matai (titled person), including ali‘i (chiefs) and tulaafale (orators), and –– taulele‘a (untitled people). Although Samoan consists of two levels, Duranti (cf. 1992: 80–83) notes that for a few respectful words a further distinction is made. In these cases, besides the common word for untitled people (taulele‘a), there is not only one matai word (as in most cases) but two separate words: one for chiefs (ali‘i) and another for orators (tulaafale; titled persons, but not chiefs). Summarising, in both languages the language of respect is restricted to a difference in vocabulary. There is a general level of lexical items including words associated with common people (Samoan: taulele‘a; Tongan: kakai) and a limited number of polite or respectful words (Samoan: matai; Tongan: hou‘eiki and tu‘i) associated with higher societal classes. While Tongan distinguishes three lexical levels (kakai, hou‘eiki and tu‘i), Samoan distinguishes two (taulele‘a and matai). In Section 8.3.1, the Tongan lexical levels will be discussed in more detail. The use of the different lexical levels is governed by general rules (cf. Churchward 1953: 304). If there is a polite equivalent (hou‘eiki and tu‘i word) for an ordinary word (kakai word), the hou‘eiki word is generally used when the speaker is addressing or referring to chiefs. Likewise, the tu‘i term is used when the speaker addresses or refers to the king. If the speaker is referring to himself, his actions or possessions, then no matter how high his own rank may be, the ordinary word must be used. Although both referent and addressee are mentioned as important factors in Churchward’s grammar, the Tongan language of respect is a referent honorific system according to Comrie’s (1976) and Levinson’s (1983) definitions of honorifics. The following examples will demonstrate that the rank relation between speaker and referent is decisive for the choice of a lexical level and not that between speaker and addressee. In Examples 1 to 3, however, one could argue that the rank of the addressee determines the usage of the lexical level.

(1) speaker to a common person: (2) speaker to a chief: (3) speaker to the king:

Mālō e lelei! Mālō e laumalie! Mālō e lakoifie!

‘Hello!’ (kakai word) ‘Hello!’ (hou‘eiki word) ‘Hello!’ (tu‘i word)

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

In such speech situations, the referent and addressee are the same so that it cannot be determined whether Tongan is an addressee or a referent honorific system. Thus, we have to search for situations (Example 4) in which the referent and the addressee are different persons with different rank. (4) Vatau (Interview, 26.2.2003): [a chief would say the following sentence about a commoner to another chief] ‘Oku faka‘ofo‘ofa ‘a Mela. ta:pres kakai:beautiful abs Mela Mela (a commoner) is beautiful.

This example proves that the Tongan language of respect is a referent honorific system because the lexical level is chosen according to the referent’s (commoner: kakai word faka‘ofo‘ofa) and not the addressee’s rank (chief: hou‘eiki). If it were an addressee honorific system, the hou‘eiki word for ‘beautiful’ (talavou) would have been used instead of the kakai word (faka‘ofo‘ofa). The Samoan language of respect is used according to similar general rules (cf. Milner 1961: 297). Duranti (cf. 1992: 82–83) shows that the Samoan language of respect is also a referent honorific system because the choice of the lexical level is defined by the referent’s societal rank. Thus, the different lexical levels (Tongan: kakai, hou‘eiki and tu‘i; Samoan: taulele‘a and matai – ali‘i and tulaafale) encode the relative rank between the speaker and the person or things referred to (i.e. the referent). Table 8.2 summarises the general rules for the use of respect vocabulary and classifies them according to the different strategies which are used to ‘give deference’ (cf. Table 8.1). Table 8.2.  Differences of rank and appropriate use of honorific vocabulary in Tongan S ranked lower than R S ranked higher than R

S raises R by using respectful vocabulary with R, and S abases himself by using ordinary words for himself S does not raise himself: S uses ordinary words for himself!

This demonstrates that the language of respect is used to ‘give deference’ by encoding only certain differences in rank between speaker and referent (cf. Table 8.1). If the referent is of higher rank than the speaker, then the speaker marks the referent’s higher societal position. However, if the referent is of lower rank than the speaker, the speaker does not mark his own higher rank. In Section 8.3.3, the use of the Tongan language of respect will be described in more detail. We will be concerned with the questions of whether the hou‘eiki and tu‘i words are also used in other contexts or in reference to other people than chiefs or the king, and which lexical level is chosen in special speech constellations.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

8.3.1  Defining lexical levels in Tongan Within the relevant literature on Tongan, the lexical levels have been described in slightly different ways. These approaches will be presented in the following section. Subsequently, the differences will be discussed with the aim of accounting for them and to find the most appropriate classification of the present Tongan lexical levels. Gifford (cf. 1929: 119–122) presents a list of honorific vocabulary in which he distinguishes three lexical levels: muomua (leading chiefs), lotoloto (middle chiefs) and kakai (people). His list with a selection of examples is shown in Table 8.3. Table 8.3.  List of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Gifford) muomua (leading chiefs)

lotoloto (middle chiefs)

kakai (people)

English

taumafa fakamalu hala tofa tofusi toukupu i nima

ilo takele pekia toka lele nima

kai mulumulu mate mohe puna kakao

eat bathe dead sleep run hand

Such a three-way distinction of lexical levels is also described in other approaches although they designate the levels in slightly different ways. Shumway’s language course (cf. 1971: 602–604) contains a list of respect terminology which is partly shown in Table 8.4. Like most approaches (cf. Philips 1991; Tongan government 2001), he distinguishes three lexical levels: kakai (people), hou‘eiki (chiefs) and tu‘i (sovereign; king or queen). Table 8.4.  List of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Shumway) English

kakai

hou‘eiki

tu‘i

eat bathe die angry sleep bed arm cemetery clothes stomach come converse desire

kai kaukau mate ‘ita mohe mohenga nima fa’itoka kofu kete ha‘u fetalanoa‘aki loto

‘ilo tākele pekia tuputāmaki toka toka‘anga nima mala‘e kofu fatu me‘a feme‘a‘aki loto

taumafa fakamālū hala houhau tōfā tōfā‘anga to‘ukupu mo‘unga fakama‘u ‘alo hā‘ele fefolofolai finangalo

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Ko e tohi kalama mo e lea Tonga, a grammar in Tongan published by the Tongan government (cf. 2001:  63–64) for their high school students shows a more extensive list of honorific vocabulary than Shumway but it does not include English translations. To facilitate comparison with other approaches, some examples are shown below (cf. Table 8.5). Table 8.5.  List of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Ko e tohi kalama mo e lea Tonga) kakai

hou‘eiki

tu‘i

kai/mama/tokoni kaukau/mulumulu mate/‘ukaka ‘ita mohe/po‘uli/mālōlō mohe‘anga lele/mafusi kaulihi fa‘itoka kofu kete

‘ilo tākele pekia tuputāmaki toka toka‘anga tofusi nima mala‘e fetongi manava

taumafa fakamālū hala houhau tōfā tōfā‘anga tofusi to‘ukupu mo‘unga/langi fakama‘u fatu

While investigating the Samoan honorific system, Milner (1961: 300) compares the Samoan and Tongan languages of respect and emphasises their similarities. In this context he proposes a categorisation of the Tongan lexical levels as a ‘threefold’ system because of its three different lexical items for certain concepts: “the first being appropriate for ordinary men, the second for the majority of chiefs, and the third for royalty”. However, Milner (1961: 300) concludes that it would be more accurate “to speak of a twofold division between ordinary or common on the one hand, and polite or respectful words on the other” (as in Samoan), and then to subdivide the second category into terms for chiefs and those for high chiefs or royalty. This representation stresses that there is a general level of lexical items (ordinary/ common) as opposed to two limited sets of polite/respectful vocabulary (chiefs and high chiefs/royalty). Consequently, Milner’s word list would take the form shown in Table 8.6. Table 8.6.  Categories of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Milner) English

…

ordinary/common

…

polite/respectful chiefs

high chiefs/royalty

…

…



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

Churchward (1953: 304) defines more than three different lexical levels. He distinguishes between ‘ordinary’, ‘polite’ (words used to demonstrate courtesy or politeness even though no chief or higher ranked person is present), ‘honorific’ (words used to address or refer to chiefs or other higher ranked persons), ‘regal’ (words used to address or refer to the king or God) and ‘derogatory’ (words used to refer to oneself when one is speaking to higher ranked persons). These definitions show that Churchward’s ‘honorific’ level corresponds to ‘chiefs or hou‘eiki’ in other approaches. However, his terminology is misleading as ‘regal’ (i.e. ‘royalty or tu‘i’) terms are also honorific vocabulary. The only example that Churchward gives to illustrate the language of respect is listed in Table 8.7. Table 8.7.  List of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Churchward) English

ordinary

polite

honorific

regal

derogatory

eat

kai

tokoni

‘ilo

taumafa

mama

Taliai (1989:  11) distinguishes four lexical levels: lea ‘a e tu‘a (lit. ‘language of the commoners’), lea ‘o e tatau (lit. ‘language of the equal’), lea ‘o e hou‘eiki (lit. ­‘language of the chiefs’) and lea ‘o e tu‘i (lit. ‘language of the king’). Consequently Taliai (cf. 1989: 136–159) lists honorific vocabulary as shown in Table 8.8 (with a selection of examples). Table 8.8.  List of Tongan honorific vocabulary (according to Taliai) lea ‘oe tatau

lea ‘ae tu‘a

lea ‘oe hou‘eiki

lea ‘oe tu‘i

English translation

kai puke va‘e tangi mohe tanu ‘olunga

mama fokoutua kakao, kaulihi koko fokoutua tanu tekihi

‘ilo tengetange va‘e tangi toka fai lalango

taumafa pūluhi to‘ukupukelekele tutulu tōfā telio ta‘omifonua

eat sick, ill leg(s) cry sleep bury head-rest

At first sight the various approaches appear to be quite dissimilar concerning the sub-division of Tongan lexical levels, although most of them (except Churchward and Taliai) distinguish three lexical levels: kakai (people/commoners), hou‘eiki (chiefs) and tu‘i (the king or queen). To compare all approaches, Table 8.9 gives an overview by means of the example kai (eat) which occurs in all approaches. Actually, all approaches agree that there is one lexical level with respectful vocabulary concerning the leading or high chiefs (formerly the Tu‘i Tonga) or the

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Table 8.9.  Categorisation of Tongan honorific vocabulary according to different approaches Approach

Sub-division of the honorific vocabulary

Gifford

kakai (people)

Shumway and Ko e tohi kalama Milner Churchward Taliai Example: eat

kakai

lotoloto (middle chiefs) hou‘eiki

muomua (leading chiefs) tu‘i

ordinary/common ordinary polite tatau –

derogatory tu‘a

chiefs honorific hou‘eiki

high chiefs/royalty regal tu‘i

kai

mama

‘ilo

taumafa

tokoni

king (since 1845 when the Tu‘i Kanokupolu became sovereign). Earlier approaches (such as Gifford and Milner) still mention the leading chiefs, while at present, the king is the only leading authority described by the Tongan term tu‘i. According to Philips (cf. 1991: 376), the tu‘i language was formerly associated with the sacred power which was only ascribed to the Tu‘i Tonga (cf. §2.2.1). Thus, at the beginning of the monarchy, the tu‘i vocabulary was not used for the king who held the title of Tu‘i Kanokupolu, a secular ruler. The respectful tu‘i equivalent for kai ‘eat’ is in all approaches taumafa. Furthermore, there is also agreement about a second lexical level concerning the chiefs (or formerly ‘middle chiefs’ to delimit them from the ‘leading or high chiefs’). The Tongan term hou‘eiki describes people of chiefly rank, that is nōpele ‘nobles’ as well as traditional chiefs (cf. §2.2.1). Moreover, members of the royal family also have a blood relation to the king, and are therefore hou‘eiki as well. Accordingly, Churchward (cf. 1953: 304) mentions that this lexical level is used for chiefs and other higher ranked persons. The different approaches also agree that ‘ilo is the respectful hou‘eiki equivalent for kai ‘eat’. The common/ordinary level of lexical items is defined in more diverse ways. Most approaches call it ‘ordinary’ or ‘common’ or they use the Tongan term kakai meaning ‘people’ (in this context referring to commoners). However, they do not all treat the example ‘eat’ in the same way. While Gifford and Shumway only mention kai as kakai vocabulary, in Ko e tohi kalama there are two further kakai variants listed together with the word kai: tokoni and mama. These are in fact the examples which Churchward classifies as ‘polite’ (tokoni) and ‘derogatory’ (mama). Mama also occurs in Taliai’s approach, in a category which he calls tu‘a (lit. ‘person with lower/non-chiefly rank’ or ‘commoner’). Taliai’s tu‘a category therefore corresponds to the category which Churchward characterises as ‘derogatory’, while tatau actually describes words which are associated with commoners, that is vocabulary referred to as kakai ‘people’ or ‘ordinary’ in other approaches.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

This raises the question of whether Churchward’s categories ‘ordinary’, ‘polite’ and ‘derogatory’ as well as Taliai’s categories tatau and tu‘a all belong to the common language (kakai), as Ko e tohi kalama would lead us to believe, or if they are in fact different lexical levels. To answer the question of how many lexical levels can ultimately be distinguished in Tongan, we will return to the definition of referent honorifics which dictates that the rank of the referent is decisive for the choice of the lexical level. As there are only three different societal levels in Tongan (commoner, chief and king), there can only be three corresponding lexical levels. If we look at Churchward’s description of his five categories on this basis, it can be seen that the categories ‘ordinary’, ‘polite’ and ‘derogatory’ all refer to ordinary people/commoners: the ‘ordinary’ word is used to refer to commoners in normal contexts, the ‘polite’ one for the sake of courtesy or politeness and the ‘derogatory’ one is used by commoners to lower themselves. Today, it is even more common to use derogatory words with animals and a few of them may be used as swearwords or to insult others (cf. Table 8.10). Although these three categories appear in different contexts (normal, polite or derogatory/vulgar), they all refer to commoners. Consequently, they belong to one and the same lexical level: kakai. Lynch (cf. 1998: 257) makes a distinction which seems to provide an appropriate explanation. He distinguishes two ways of showing respect in the Pacific languages.4 Firstly, the “way to speak, depending on the particular context in which one is speaking” which differentiates between informal, insulting or public speech contexts and which exist in all Pacific languages. Secondly, the “dramatically distinct speech styles [i.e. lexical levels], depending on whom one is talking to or about” are restricted to the Western Polynesian languages (Lynch 1998: 257; explanation by the author, S.V.). Philips (1991: 373–374) also distinguishes these two kinds of language use, though linking both to the hierarchical societal organisation. Firstly, she differentiates a “special way of using language”, such as the distinction between everyday and polite language or language associated with verbal art. She mentions that traditionally the use of metaphorical, literary and rhetorical language in speeches, poetry and songs was associated with the chiefly class or the sovereign (such as the poetry Queen Sālote was famous for). Secondly, she differentiates the three ­lexical levels (which she calls ‘speech levels’) that encode the rank difference between commoners, chiefs and the king. Thus, the ‘way to speak’ or the ‘way of using

.  Mosel & Hovdhaugen (cf. 1992: 8) make the same distinction in Samoan: first, literary and colloquial language; second, the language of respect (that is a general level of lexical items and a limited number of polite equivalents).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

a language’ is context-dependant5 while the lexical levels depend more on the referent’s rank (referent honorifics). Bringing together Lynch’s and Philip’s distinction and Churchward’s classifications, ‘ordinary’, ‘polite’ and ‘derogatory’ are different ‘ways to speak’, just like Taliai’s categories tatau and tu‘a. However, according to the definition of referent honorifics, they all belong to one lexical level (kakai) as they all refer to people of the same rank (commoners). The other two categories (‘honorific’ or hou‘eiki and ‘regal’ or tu‘i) are two further lexical levels because each of them refers to people of different rank: hou‘eiki to chiefs and tu‘i to the king. This is the common categorisation of Tongan lexical levels as it occurs today. However, ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 19.11.2002 and 13.3.2003) has pointed out a dynamic of lexical levels during the course of time (§8.3.3). He presumes that there has been a language of respect in Tonga since the time of the first paramount chief or king (that is according to the oral legends from the beginning of Tongan history). However, in the past, more societal classes or levels of rank were differentiated than in the present Tongan society (cf. §2.2.1). Apart from commoners (kakai), chiefs (hou‘eiki) and the king (tu‘i), there were two more groups: slaves (pōpula) and an intermediary group between chiefs and commoners (mu‘a or matāpule). As a consequence, there were probably also more lexical levels: pōpula and mu‘a/matāpule.

.  In certain situations in which the kakai word has to be used according to the rules but the speaker nevertheless wants to demonstrate great respect, he uses a polite kakai version. Similarly, if a kakai word has no respectful equivalents (hou‘eiki and tu‘i word) and someone is addressing or referring to a chief or even the king, a kakai word has to be used but to demonstrate great respect, the speaker will use a more polite synonym for the ordinary kakai word. In Example (i) below (Interview with Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita and Kalisi Matoto Fine, 21.1.2003), a kakai word has to be used by the commoner if he refers to himself but to show greater politeness, the kakai word lele mai ‘run to here’ is used instead of the simple kakai word ha‘u ‘come’, as well as fakaa‘u ‘present’ instead of ‘oatu ‘give to you’:

(i)

[part of a dialogue in which a commoner is talking to the king]:



Ko pr

‘eku lele mai pe ‘o fakaa‘u ‘a e poss:1sg kakai:run dir:to speaker just and kakai:present abs art



‘ofa mei he kāinga mei he Lolo ‘a Halaevalu ‘i teu present p:abl art family p:abl art (=village on Vava‘u island) prepare



fakamanatu ‘a e valu-ngofulu-ma-nima ta‘u ‘a e ‘Afio na. remind abs art 85th year p:poss art tu‘i:you

I have come with the relatives from ‘Lolo ‘a Halaevalu’ (Vava‘u Is) to present to your Majesty a gift for your eighty-fifth birthday.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

However, between ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 13.3.2003) and Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita (personal communication, 21.1.2003), who both assume that there was once a matāpule language which became extinct or forgotten, neither can remember words of a mu‘a/matāpule lexical level. This raises the question of whether it really was a separate lexical level.6 Today, the matāpule are referred to by kakai words, and only if they are of chiefly blood is the hou‘eiki vocabulary used. Concerning pōpula language, ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 19.11.2002) mentions several words which he assigns to this former lexical level (cf. *in Table 8.10), that is vocabulary which was used in reference to slaves. As there are no slaves in contemporary Tongan society (cf. §2.2.1), some of the pōpula words probably disappeared and others still exist; these can be used to refer to oneself (self-lowering) or as a kind of offensive or insulting vocabulary (to express anger) or they refer to animals. This description corresponds quite well to ­Churchward’s ‘derogatory’ (cf. º in Table 8.10) and Taliai’s tu‘a, that is the vulgar way to speak which belongs to the kakai lexical level. Taliai (cf. 1989: 125f) mentions the extended use of animalistic terms to describe human beings in a derogative way. In conclusion, it can be said that today the Tongan language of respect consists of three lexical levels (kakai, hou‘eiki and tu‘i) representing the three societal levels within the present Tongan society, that is its absolute hierarchy. The language of respect has probably existed in Tonga for a long time, although not in its present form. The dynamic of lexical levels has probably led to the disappearance of at least one lexical level (pōpula) and certainly to a restructuring of existing lexical levels, most obviously at the beginning of the modern societal system (for example the use of tu‘i vocabulary with the king instead of a Tu‘i Tonga; cf. §8.3.3). ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 13.3.2003) expresses a very plausible theory about the development of the language of respect. While the common people were oppressed, the Tu‘i Tonga’s authority (representing the sacred power) had to be protected. As it was the matāpules’ main duty to protect the authority of the Tu‘i Tonga, ‘Aisea Hingano supposes that the matāpule introduced the language of respect to stabilise the system of stratification and authority. Therefore the .  Gifford’s remark (1929: 111–112) that matāpule does not seem to be a rank but rather “an office to which men are appointed from among the higher non-chiefly families” even classifies matāpule as commoners and not as a special social class or level of rank (cf. §2.2.1). This supports the conclusion that matāpule was not a separate lexical level either. Matāpule were actually commoners (just with a special office), and accordingly, the kakai language was used to refer to them. It is only possible that on formal occasions, a ‘polite’ way to speak to/about them was chosen.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

purpose of the honorific system, such as the concept of tapu (the non-linguistic system of showing deference), was to protect the Tu‘i Tonga. How much the linguistic and non-linguistic systems of showing deference are actually intertwined will become more apparent in Section 8.3.2: the honorific vocabulary is actually functioning as verbal tapu system. On the basis of the relevant literature on Tongan (Gifford 1929; Churchward 1959; Shumway 1971; Tongan Government 2001) and the knowledge of my informants7, I have developed the following list of Tongan respect vocabulary (Table 8.10). Although the list is more extensive than others, no list can ever be complete. Even though there is only a limited number of respectful terms (tu‘i and hou‘eiki) compared to the entire kakai language, it is impossible to gather them all. The tables which have been published for Tongan so far show a few variations concerning the vocabulary. This is based on the fact that not all Tongans know and use the language of respect in exactly the same way (cf. Philips 1991: 375). Although I had competent informants (especially compared to most Tongans who learn the language of respect only in school) and the list contains many synonyms (used by different speakers and different approaches), variants cannot be excluded. Table 8.10.  List of Tongan honorific vocabulary kakai

hou‘eiki

tu‘i

English

afuhi, papitaiso faikava, inukava faitohi fakaulo/ulo faka‘ofo‘ofa falevao fānau, fanga ‘uhiki*º fanau‘i/fā’ele‘i fa‘ē fa‘u/fa‘ufa‘u fa‘itoka

luluku ‘ilo kava me‘atohi fakaola/ola talavou vao fānau fakahifo fehuhu ao mala‘e, faiangatoka fefine feme‘a‘aki hālofia foha foki, me‘a mai

luluku taumafakava folofolatohi fakaola/ola hoihoifua vaotapu fale‘alo ‘alo‘i, fakahifo fehuhu paleao mo‘unga, langi

baptise kava circle, to drink kava write a letter give light, set on fire beautiful latrine children give birth mother bind (the head), turban cemetery, grave

ta‘ahine fefolofolai hālofia, feitaumafa ‘alo tangata liuaki

woman, elderly woman converse hungry, thirsty son (of a man) return, come back

fefine, finemotu‘a fetalanoa‘aki fiekaia, fieinua foha, ‘uhiki tangata*º foki, ō mai

(Continued) .  ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 19.11.2002) provided supplementary data, and Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita (personal communication, 2.11.2004) ultimately proofread the list together with a relative – as members of the royal family they have more knowledge about honorific vocabulary since they use it on a daily basis.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

Table 8.10.  (Continued) kakai

hou‘eiki

tu‘i

English

fo‘ohake fuefue/fue fulufulu haeane‘i haha, taa‘i hala, ‘alu‘anga ha‘u, mahae mai* heuheu hila/hanga hinehina hingoa ifi tapaka inu kafu, mā‘iholoº kai, mamaº, tokoni×, fafa‘o* kai‘anga kata/katakata, ina kaukau, mulumuluº kemo kete, manava× koe kofu, kake‘iº konā kosi, fukofuka, hani kovi lavea, kafo×, mahifi, mafesi lea, lau lele, mafusiº, puna* loto lou‘ulu

‘e‘epa fuefue/fue halakava haeane‘i kinisi me‘a‘anga me‘a mai halu me‘a hinā hingoa ‘ilo tapaka ‘ilo kafu ‘ilo

tōtōfā kini hōha‘a fakamomoko ‘ume‘umesi hā‘ele‘anga hā‘ele mai tu‘aniu tangaki sialea huafa taumafa tapaka taumafa penu taumafa

(lie) face upwards fan (whisk) beard iron hit, beat (with a stick) road, path (royal: red carpet) come criticising person glance, turn the eyes white or grey hair (age) name smoke drink cover oneself (lying) eat

‘ilo‘anga kata/katakata tākele kemo fatu, manava feitu‘ú na kofu, fetongi hu‘akava‘ia tuku tu‘utāmaki kafo

taumafa‘anga lōlōfia fakamālū malomaloa‘a ‘alo, fatu ‘afió na fakama‘u malahia folaha, tuku angavalea monuka

me‘a tofusi, me‘a loto, me‘a loufofonga, laufofonga lo‘ifofonga me‘a ta‘ane hoa hoa fakafeta‘i mālō e laumālie me‘a, toka tuki, holo fofonga tau‘olungakovi

folofola tofusi, hā‘ele finangalo loulangi, laulangi

eating place laugh, giggle bathe eyebrow stomach you (sg. Obj) garment, clothing, dress drunk, intoxicated cut hair bad wound, wounded, cut, broken speak, mention run desire, wish hair

lo‘ifofonga hā‘ele ta‘ane ta‘ane tama fakafeta‘i mālō e lakoifie fakafiemālie, tōfā holo langi langikovi

tears walk marry, married wife husband thankful hello rest kava is chewed face, eye sore eyes

lo‘imata lue, mahae* mali mali, finemotu‘a*º mali, motu‘a*º mālō mālō e lelei mālōlō mama[kava] mata, ‘afi* matakovi

(Continued)

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Table 8.10.  List of Tongan honorific vocabulary (Continued) kakai

hou‘eiki

tu‘i

English

mata-sio‘ata mate, ‘ukaka*º mate-‘i-tahi mate-‘i-tahi me‘akai milimili mohe, po‘uli, fokoutuaº mohenga, mohe‘anga mohevale, mohetu‘u monga, kia motu‘a, vaivaiº mo‘ui navu, palaiº ngangau ngāue ngoue ngutu, telinga nifo, maka*º (kau)nima, kakaoº, kaulihi*º nofo nofo ā nofo‘anga nonga, tokanoa, tōli‘a papi pōpao, va‘akauº poto potupotu, mo‘uifa

fofonga-sio‘ata pekia mole-‘i-tahi mole-‘i-tahi (me‘a) ‘ilo tākai toka

langi-sio‘ata hala takavaha takavaha (me‘a) taumafa likivai tōfā

glasses, spectacles die, dead lost at sea lost at sea food rub, oil (the body) sleep

toka‘anga misi u‘a motu‘a laumālie navu mamafa ‘uli‘i ‘uli‘i fofonga nifo nima

tōfā‘anga lika u‘a toulekeleka lākoifie, lākoifua penepena ngalulu mā‘imoa, ‘uli‘i mā‘imoa langi koloa to‘ukupu

bed dream, dream throat, neck old life treat (the hair) with lime dizzy work garden mouth, ear teeth hand, arm

me‘a me‘a ā me‘a‘anga fiemālie luluku sū ‘ilo mo‘uifa

‘afio ‘afio ā ‘afio‘anga hoifua luluku topuva‘e maama ineina

puhinga puke, fokoutuaº putu sai‘ia, manako sinifu sio, kikila* tafa‘i tala tale, tae, ‘u‘uaº talikula, mumū tama, ‘uhiki*º tamai tāmate‘i

puhinga tengetange faka‘eiki, me‘a manako sinifu me‘a pola‘i me‘a tale mumū tama ‘eiki fakamanuka, tāonatangata tangata

fakamokomoko pūluhi/pūpūluhi langi mokoi mā‘itaki ‘afio fakamonuka folofola malemale fākavao ‘alo ‘eiki feia, moemoepō

sit, stay goodbye place for sitting, seat calm, peaceful, satisfied baptise canoe clever partly burned stick/ cigarette spit on, spittoon ill, sick funeral, corpse like, desire unmarried wife, concubine see lance, cut tell cough warm at the fire child (of a woman) father kill

tamasi‘i

man

tangata, siana, motu‘aº

(Continued)



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

Table 8.10.  (Continued) kakai

hou‘eiki

tu‘i

English

tangi, ngala, kokoº, vahoº tangutu tanu[putu] tanu‘anga tatā, pūlouº ta‘ovala, kake‘iº toto tutu tu‘a tu‘u uku‘umea vaka, va‘akauº vala, kake‘iº vale, faha, sesele (kau)va‘e, kakaoº, kaulihi*º va‘inga vela ‘ā ‘alu, mahae* ‘alu ā ‘eve‘eva/fakahākonoa ‘ilo‘i ‘io ’ita ‘ofefine, ‘uhiki fefine*º ‘olunga, kali, tekihi ‘ulu ‘uma

tangi

tutulu

cry (loud), weep

me‘a fai fai‘anga(-me‘a) tatā ta‘ovala toto fakamomofi ō, takafalu me‘a tala‘umea vaka vala sesele va‘e

‘afio telio telio‘anga fakamalu ‘aofivala ta‘ata‘a fakama‘afu takafalu ‘afio ta’alofaki fata, kauala hoko fakaha‘aha‘a to‘ukupu kelekele

sit down bury place of burial hat, cap mat worn round the waist blood, bleed light, set on fire back stand wash (the head) boat clothes foolish, silly, ignorant foot, leg

mā‘imoa mōfia, momofi ofo me‘a me‘a ā fakahāuē mea‘i ko ia tuputāmaki ‘ofefine lalango fofonga ‘uma, fekita

mā‘imoa ma‘afu taka hā‘ele hā‘ele ā fakahāuē ‘afio‘i ko ē houhau ‘alo fefine ta’omi fonua langi fekita

play burn, scald, burn wake up, awaken go good-bye go for a stroll, roam know yes angry, anger daughter (of a man) pillow, head-rest head kiss

*former pōpula words (according to my informant; some of them disappeared completely) ºdisrespectful words (according to Churchward 1959; seem to be mostly identical with *)    today *and º are terms that only refer to animals; a few of them are further used as swearwords (for example mahae ‘tear’) ×polite words (according to Churchward 1959)

8.3.2  The Tongan vocabulary of respect (semantic forms) Regarding the vocabulary of respect, several questions arise which will be investigated in this section: –– How can the respectful equivalents be described semantically, and from where do the semantic forms originate? –– For which kinds of word do we find respectful equivalents? –– Why do only these words have such respectful equivalents? Does this possibly explain why a language of respect developed?

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

The list of vocabulary (cf. Table 8.10) demonstrates that in most cases (Example 5 and 6), we find three distinct words for one thing or action which is represented by them: a kakai, a hou‘eiki and a tu‘i word.

(5) drink: inu (kakai) (6) angry: ‘ita (kakai)

– –

‘ilo (hou‘eiki) tuputāmaki (hou‘eiki)

– taumafa (tu‘i) – houhau (tu‘i)

However, in some cases (Example 7 and 8), the two honorific forms (hou‘eiki and tu‘i) are identical but distinct from the kakai form.

(7) run: lele (kakai) – (8) play: va‘inga (kakai) –

tofusi (hou‘eiki) mā‘imoa (hou‘eiki)

– tofusi (tu‘i) – mā‘imoa (tu‘i)

In some other cases (Example 9 and 10), the kakai and hou‘eiki words are the same while the tu‘i word is different. (9) desire: manako (kakai) – manako (hou‘eiki) – mokoi (tu‘i) (10) kiss: ‘uma (kakai) – ‘uma (hou‘eiki) – fekita (tu‘i)

In several cases (Examples 11 to 13), there is only one hou‘eiki or tu‘i word for what is represented by several distinct kakai words. Then the context is of great importance to reveal the proper meaning of this respectful word in a sentence. kai (kakai) me‘akai (kakai) inu (kakai)

(11)

eat: food: drink: kava circle: smoke:

(12)

give birth: son (of a man): child (of a woman): stomach:

– ‘ilo (hou‘eiki) – me‘a ‘ilo (hou‘eiki) – ‘ilo (hou‘eiki)

– taumafa (tu‘i) – me‘a taumafa (tu‘i) – taumafa (tu‘i)

faikava (kakai) – ‘ilo kava (hou‘eiki) – taumafakava (tu‘i) ifi tapaka (kakai) – ‘ilo tapaka (hou‘eiki) – taumafa tapaka (tu‘i) fanau‘i (kakai) – fakahifo (hou‘eiki)

– ‘alo‘i (tu‘i)

foha (kakai)

– foha (hou‘eiki)

– ‘alo tangata (tu‘i)

tama (kakai) kete (kakai)

– tama (hou‘eiki) – ‘alo (tu‘i) – fatu, manava (hou‘eiki) – ‘alo, fatu (tu‘i)

(13) a.

go: come: walk:

‘alu (kakai) ha‘u (kakai) lue (kakai)

b.

speak: write a letter: converse: tell:

lea (kakai) faitohi (kakai) fetalanoa‘aki (kakai) tala (kakai)

c.

sit down: stand: see: know:

tangutu (kakai) tu‘u (kakai) sio (kakai) ilo‘i (kakai)

me‘a (hou‘eiki) – hā‘ele (tu‘i) me‘a mai (hou‘eiki) – hā‘ele (tu‘i) me‘a (hou‘eiki) – hā‘ele (tu‘i)

– – –

– me‘a (hou‘eiki) – me‘atohi (hou‘eiki) – feme‘a‘aki (hou‘eiki) – me‘a (hou‘eiki) – – – –

me‘a (hou‘eiki) me‘a (hou‘eiki) me‘a (hou‘eiki) me‘a‘i (hou‘eiki)

– folofola (tu‘i) – folofolatohi (tu‘i) – fefolofolai (tu‘i) – folofola (tu‘i) – – – –

‘afio (tu‘i) ‘afio (tu‘i) ‘afio (tu‘i) ‘afio‘i (tu‘i)



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

These examples further demonstrate that the kakai words which share the same honorific forms (the whole word or at least the word root; emphasised in ­Examples 11 to 13) belong to a semantic category, such as ‘eating, drinking and other oral intake’ in Example 11, ‘children, birth and place of unborn child’ in Example 12, ‘verbs of motion/movement’ in example 13a, ‘verbs of communication’ in Example 13b and ‘verbs of state/non-movement (including knowledge and perception)’ in Example 13c. Of course, most compounds and derivations of a word have the same honorific forms (word root) as the word itself (Examples 14a and 14b). (14)

a.

b.

face, eye:

mata (kakai)

– fofonga (hou‘eiki) – langi (tu‘i)

glasses:

mata-sio‘ata

– fofonga-sio‘ata

– langi-sio‘ata

(kakai)

  (hou‘eiki)

  (tu‘i)

nofo (kakai)

– me‘a (hou‘eiki)

– ‘afio (tu‘i)

sit, stay: goodbye (to

s.o. who stays): nofo ā (kakai) – me‘a ā (hou‘eiki) sitting-place:

nofo‘anga

– me‘a‘anga

(kakai)

  (hou‘eiki)

– ‘afio ā (tu‘i) – ‘afio‘anga (tu‘i)

Generally, it can be said that the kakai vocabulary makes more distinctions while the honorific vocabulary (hou‘eiki and tu‘i) is more general, i.e. it consists of less different words (Examples 11 to 13). A semantic analysis of the honorific vocabulary will further demonstrate that even the meaning of hou‘eiki and tu‘i terms is more general. This analysis automatically leads to the question of where the semantic forms of the honorific vocabulary come from. Most of the honorific words are at the same time kakai words with a different meaning. The word me‘a, for example, is the hou‘eiki word for ha‘u ‘come’, lea ‘speak’, sio ‘see’, tala ‘tell’ and many other actions (cf. Example 13) but its kakai meaning is ‘thing’. This is a more general and unspecific meaning. The relationship between the kakai and the hou‘eiki or tu‘i meaning reveals the general, indirect, paraphrasing and metaphorical character of the respectful terms. The indirect and weakening character of respectful terms can be found with some hou‘eiki or tu‘i words associated with negative or unfortunate actions. These respectful words are kakai words with a meaning which weakens or de-intensifies what is being referred to by the tu‘i word (cf. Philips 1991: 380). The tu‘i word for tamate‘i ‘kill’, for example, is feia, a polite form of the kakai word fai or fei ‘do’. The meaning of ‘do’ compared to that of ‘kill’ is more general and less specific. The tu‘i word for konā ‘drunk’ is malahia which is the kakai word for ‘misfortune from wrongdoing/ doing too much’ and also weakens the meaning of ‘drunk’ by circumscribing it. The hou‘eiki word for kovi ‘bad’ is tu‘utāmaki which means ‘meet with trouble or failure, unpleasantness or imperfection’. It is again a more indirect meaning.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

There are other examples where the respectful equivalent is associated with a more positive word. The tu‘i word for tangata ‘man’ is tamasi‘i which is the kakai word for ‘young person, boy’. Accordingly, the tu‘i word for fefine ‘woman’ is ta‘ahine which stands for ‘young woman’ in kakai. As youth is seen as something positive, it is polite to describe somebody as being younger. Youth is also a sign of beauty; the hou‘eiki word for faka‘ofo‘ofa ‘beautiful’ is talavou, the kakai word for ‘youth, young man’. Some other respectful terms have a more metaphorical or even poetical character. Kakai words for natural phenomena appear as tu‘i equivalents for human attributes and actions (cf. Philips 1991: 380; Taliai 1989: 125–126). The kakai word langi ‘sky’, for example, is also the tu‘i word for putu ‘funeral, corpse’, fa‘itoka ‘grave’, mata ‘face, eye’, ‘ulu ‘head’, ngutu ‘mouth’, telinga ‘ear’ and a compound element in the tu‘i word for mata-sio‘ata ‘glasses’, lou‘ulu ‘hair’ and matakovi ‘sore eyes’. These words all describe parts of the head, the head itself and a dead body (including event and place where it occurs). The head and its parts can be seen as the part of the body which is the closest to the sky or even God because the sky is mythically often perceived as the place of the gods. Accordingly, if a person dies, his whole body and soul is closer to God. Other kakai words for natural phenomena or places also appear especially as tu‘i equivalents for words associated with death. Mo‘unga ‘mountain’ is another tu‘i word for fa‘itoka ‘cemetery’ and hala ‘path, road’ the tu‘i word for mate ‘to die, dead’. ‘Mountain’ is a similar metaphor to ‘sky’ because it is ‘high’ and thus the closest place to the sky (cf. §2.2.3).8 The process of dying is described as ‘path’, which can be seen as the route one traverses between life and death. The kakai word siale ‘gardenia’ is a further example of metaphors from nature. It is the tu‘i word for ‘white’ as in sialea ‘white hair’. Both, age (white hair is a sign of older people) and death are subjects treated with a high level of respect in Tonga. According to ‘Aisea Hingano (personal communication, 19.11.2002), this can further be demonstrated by the fact that the tu‘i word for ‘alu ‘go’ and other verbs of motion/movement (cf. Example 13a) is hā‘ele which derives from the kakai word fakahā‘ele ‘carry to cemetery’. Similarly, pōpula or ‘derogatory’ words are quite often kakai words for animal phenomena. To express human subjects through animal ones conveys a negative or derogatory meaning. The derogatory word for tama ‘child of a woman’ and other words for and around children (cf. Example 12) is ‘uhiki, the kakai word for .  ‘Sky’ and ‘mountain’ can even be regarded as spatial metaphors as they represent ‘high/ upper’ places. Thus, on the vertical axis ‘up’ is associated with the king (cf. §6.5 and §3.5.2) through the metaphorical meaning of the tu‘i terms.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

‘offspring of bird or animal’. Further animal metaphors are kakao ‘legs of a crab or a lobster’ as a derogatory term for nima ‘arm, hand’ and for va‘e ‘leg, foot’ and ‘u‘ua ‘crow like a cock’ as derogatory word for tale ‘cough’. The derogatory word for kaukau ‘bathe’ is mulumulu, i.e. the reduplicated form of mulu which is the kakai term for ‘strip and clean the intestines of a pig or a turtle’. Some other derogatory words are food metaphors or natural metaphors. The pōpula word for kofu ‘dress, clothing’ and for ta‘ovala ‘mat worn around the waist’ is kake‘i which is the kakai word for ‘wrap food in leaves’. Therefore a person wrapped in cloth is compared to food wrapped in leaves for cooking it in the earth oven which gives it a negative meaning. The pōpula word for nifo ‘teeth’ is maka, the kakai word for ‘stone’. This can also be regarded as a negative metaphor. Further metaphors and circumscriptions are ‘uli‘i ‘make dirty, soil’ as hou‘eiki equivalent for ngāue ‘work’ and for ngoue ‘garden’, feitu‘ú na ‘that place where you are’ as hou‘eiki equivalent for koe ‘you’, tutulu ‘leak’ as tu‘i equivalent for tangi ‘cry’, folofola (fola ‘spread out’) as tu‘i term for lea ‘speak’ and other words of communication (cf. Example 13b), toka ‘rest on the bottom’ as hou‘eiki equivalent for mohe ‘sleep’, and fehuhu (huhu ‘suck from a breast or bottle’) as hou‘eiki and tu‘i word for fa‘ē ‘mother’. The hou‘eiki word for eating, drinking and other oral intake (cf. Example  11) is ‘ilo which means ‘know, perceive’ in kakai. It is a metaphor by which a mental meaning (absorption of knowledge) is transferred to the physical one (‘absorption’ or intake of food). There are further examples in which the honorific equivalent of a kakai word with physical meaning stresses the mental or spiritual side of the object or person. The tu‘i word for children (cf. Example 12) is ‘alo which is the kakai word for ‘soul, spirit’, the spiritual part of a person/child. The hou‘eiki and tu‘i word for tamai ‘father’ is ‘eiki which is the kakai word for ‘higher ranked person, chief ’. Additionally some ‘polite’ kakai words are metaphors compared to the ordinary kakai words. The polite word for kai ‘eat’, for example, is tokoni which is the ordinary kakai word for ‘help’. This is also a metaphor that is used in English in a similar context: ‘Help yourself!’ which means ‘Serve yourself!’ if it is said to a person sitting at the table. Apart from the above mentioned examples of me‘a ‘thing’ and feia ‘do’, there are further generalisations, such as the hou‘eiki word for tanu ‘bury’ is fai, the kakai word for ‘do’. The hou‘eiki or tu‘i word for kosi ‘cut the hair’ is tuku which is the kakai word for ‘put down’, and the tu‘i word for mālōlō ‘rest’ is fakafiemālie which is the kakai word for ‘giving comfort or satisfaction’. The hou‘eiki equivalent for fa‘itoka ‘cemetery’ is mala‘e which means ‘village green, place, field’ in kakai. Summarising, most honorific words (hou‘eiki and tu‘i) are also kakai words with a different meaning. The meaning of the kakai meaning reveals the general, metaphorical, polite or indirect character of the honorific vocabulary.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Concerning the origin of the respectful words, it has to be mentioned that not all respectful terms are also kakai words. So where do these semantic forms come from? Milner (1961: 300; explanation by the author, S.V.) compares the Samoan vocabulary of respect with the Tongan, Uvean and Futunan respectful words and remarks that: […] a small number of Samoan terms of respect having reference to high chiefs are almost identical (if allowance is made for phonological correspondence) with terms found also in Tonga and used in reference to royalty. Some of them  are also found in the language of Wallis (Uvea) […], e.g. afio [spelled ‘afio in Tongan], alo [spelled ‘alo in Tongan], fofoga [spelled fofonga in Tongan], maliu, soifua [spelled hoifua in Tongan], suafa [spelled huafa in Tongan], tāumafa & tōfā. At least one or two of these words have also been reported from Futuna […].

There are other Tongan respectful words which also appear in the Samoan vocabulary of respect, such as fakamālu (spelled fa‘amālu in Samoan), tutulu, lalango (spelled lalago in Samoan), koloa (spelled ‘oloa in Samoan) and ao. However, most of the Tongan respectful terms have no equivalent in Samoan, and conversely, many of the Samoan respectful terms do not appear in the Tongan language of respect (cf. Milner 1961: 300). The honorific vocabulary that both languages have in common mostly consists of words which do not have a kakai meaning in Tongan. This might suggest that they did not originate from Tongan. Milner (1961: 300, explanation by the author, S.V.) draws the following possible conclusion: […] that in this area [i.e. Samoa, Tonga, Wallis and Futuna] the majority of the terms of respect have evolved in each community since it became separately established in its present habitat, but that a few words especially those referring to high chiefs and royalty were perhaps in use before Western Polynesians became separated.

Another possible explanation is that the languages of respect have completely developed in separate ways and that some Tongan respectful forms were introduced as loanwords from Samoan, Uvean or Futunan and the other way round. This would be a result of the intensive contact which prevailed between the Western Polynesian societies, especially Tonga and Samoa. These cultures strongly influenced each other and they have much in common. On the two most northern islands of Tonga (Niuatoputapu and Niuafo‘ou), for example, a Sāmoic language is spoken (cf. §1.4). In the 13th century, the Tu‘i Tonga, Talakaifaiki, is said to have lived in Samoa and Tonga (cf. Campbell 2001: 35–36; Wood-Ellem



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

1999: 2), and in the 17th century, the Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua married a Samoan woman (cf. Kaeppler 1999; Barnes & Hunt 2005: 237). This demonstrates that contact was  especially established on the ‘royal/high chief ’ level, and consequently, this group of people could have brought their language, the language of respect, over to the other community. This would even support Taliai’s theory that (at least some of) the Tongan respect terminology used with the royal family is of Samoan origin (cf. Taliai 1989: 115–120).9 Regarding Samoan, Milner (1961: 298) argues that “terms of respect might originally have been loanwords which subsequently acquired either more or less stylistic prestige than the equivalent native word”. So far, the semantic nature of respectful vocabulary and the origin of these semantic forms have been analysed: most of the honorific terms are also kakai words with another meaning. However, some are honorific terms that Tongan, Samoan, Uvean and Futunan have in common, which means they are either (Samoan) loanwords or they developed before Western Polynesia became separated. Finally, a further question arises from the fact that not all Tongan kakai words have respectful equivalents in Tongan: for which kind of words do we find respectful equivalents? In most languages, honorifics “as a word class typically refer to persons, their bodies and their parts, their possessions, bodily acts and exchanges and transactions” (Foley 1997:  325).10 These are domains describing an entire person, including his body, actions, etc., and thus, through the respectful terms, deference is shown to the entire person (i.e. chiefs and the king). Table 8.11 classifies Tongan words for which respectful equivalents exist according to domains. These are all domains that describe an individual, including his body parts, his character, his closest relations, as well as his actions, emotions, attributes and possessions, i.e. things which he influences and which are part of his ceremonial or daily life.

.  Taliai (cf. 1989:  115–125; 136) even assumes that only the tu‘i vocabulary is mostly of Samoan and Fijian origin and that the hou‘eiki terms are dialectal borrowings. Actually, there are more tu‘i than hou‘eiki terms (see above) which also exist in Samoan. However, Taliai’s theory is hard to prove as he describes hou‘eiki examples as dialectal but some are tu‘i equivalents as well (such as u‘a for ‘neck, throat’), and thus, according to Taliai’s theory, it should be of Samoan/Fijian origin. .  In Samoan, the respectful words describe “individuals, groups, relations, as well as a certain range of their actions, attributes, and possession” (Duranti 1992: 80).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Table 8.11.  Terms with respectful equivalents Semantic domains

Examples

general terms describing people, and words of direct address; kinship terms (exclusively of the core family), and verbs describing actions which result in kinship relations; body parts, things which have to do with body parts, and care of the body;

man, woman, etc., name, you, hello, good-bye, etc.; father, mother, children, etc., to give birth, to marry, etc.;

arm, hand, head, foot, leg, hair, back, etc., tears, sore eyes, to turn the eyes, etc., to bathe, to cut the hair, latrine, to wash the head; states of the body; hungry, thirsty, ill, beautiful, wounded, dead, old, drunk, etc.; character qualities, and terms of emotion; bad, clever, thankful, etc., to laugh, to cry, tears, angry, etc.; objects found in immediate contact with dress, clothes, hat, mat worn around the waist, etc., the body, like clothes (mostly traditional food, to drink, to eat, to smoke, to drink kava, etc., boat, headrest, etc., ones), food (mostly verbs of food and to spit on, etc.; other oral intake), and other personal possessions; and verbs which describe that the body or parts of it come into contact with something else; terms of life and especially death; life, etc., dead, cemetery, funeral, to kill, to bury, etc.; terms around sleeping and sickness; bed, headrest, to sleep, to dream, to wake up, etc., to cough, poisoned, ill, to bleed, blood, etc.; terms (especially verbs) of motion/ to come, to run, to go, road, path, etc., movement and state/non movement; to rest, to lie face upwards, to sit, to stay, to stand, place for sitting, etc.; verbs of communication; to write a letter, to converse, to speak, to mention, to tell, etc.; to know, to see, etc.; verbs of perception and knowledge; to work, to give light, to cut, etc., other terms which describe activities or garden (in contrast to all natural landscapes) bodily movement and products of these activities

Excursus: respectful equivalents for landmarks, possessions and kinship terms Along with actions, the corresponding places/landmarks also have respectful equivalents because these terms are derivations (the suffix -‘anga denotes places of the action or state), such as nofo ‘sit, stay’ and nofo‘anga ‘place for sitting, seat’. There are further terms with respectful equivalents that describe places, such as fa‘itoka ‘cemetery’ (a synonym for tanu‘anga), hala ‘road, path’ (a synonym for ‘alu‘anga) and ngoue ‘garden’. As all these places have been created by someone’s actions, i.e. tanu ‘bury’, ‘alu ‘go’ and ngāue ‘work’11, they are closely related to a person. Other places, in

.  The verb ngāue ‘work’ is obviously connected with ngoue ‘garden’ because both words share the same honorific forms (hou‘eiki term: ‘uli‘i; tu‘i term: mā‘imoa).



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

­contrast, that are part of the natural landscape, such as mo‘unga ‘mountain’, do not have respectful equivalents as they are not related to a special person’s actions. Concerning possessions, it is obvious that personal possessions with which the owner is in close physical contact have respectful equivalents (for example bed, boat and headrest). These are possessions which the owner touches or even wears (like clothes), incorporates (like food) or which are even part of the owner (like body parts) or define him (like his name). It is remarkable that these categories which characterise or represent a person or that are closely related with a person are O-possessed (cf. Chapter 7). O-possession signals that the possessor has no control over the initiation of the possessive relationship, i.e. the possessee is closely related to the possessor. Thus, they form a kind of unity which explains why the environment closely related with higher ranked people has to be respected (by honorifics) as these people themselves are. Further, it can be said that mostly traditional personal possessions (like wooden headrest, canoe, etc.) rather than modern ones have respectful equivalents. The traditional vehicles vaka ‘boat’ and pōpao ‘canoe’, for example, appear in the list with respectful equivalents but not ‘car’ or other modern vehicles. Likewise, the clothes with respectful equivalents are mostly traditional ones and not modern clothes, like sū ‘shoe’ and talausese ‘trousers’. That these are nontraditional clothes can be recognised by their status as English loanwords. Regarding kinship terms, it is remarkable that there are only respectful words for members of the core family (cf. Taliai 1989: 139–142). The core family are kin normally living in the same household (a couple with their children) and therefore are in much closer contact than other relatives. The kinship terms with respectful terminology describe relations within the core family from all different perspectives: –– –– ––

from the father’s perspective: mali ‘wife’, fānau ‘children’, foha ‘son of a man’ and ‘ofefine ‘daughter of a man’; from the mother’s perspective: mali ‘husband’, fānau ‘children’ and tama ‘child of a woman’; from the children’s perspective: tamai ‘father’ and fa‘ē ‘mother’; however, only the terms for siblings do not have respectful equivalents although they are also part of the household.

Additionally, actions resulting in kinship relations of the core family (for example mali ‘marry’, and fanau‘i12 ‘give birth’) have respectful equivalents, although they are not exactly the same for fānau ‘children’ and mali ‘wife, husband’. Moreover, the lists of respectful terminology contain general descriptions of people, like fefine ‘woman’ and tangata ‘man’. Fefine ‘woman’ and mali ‘wife’ have the same respectful terms, just as tangata ‘man’ and mali ‘husband’ share the same respectful vocabulary.

In searching for an explanation for the origin of the language of respect, we have to recall the Polynesian concepts of mana and tapu, a system of ritual avoidance. Mana can be regarded as the supernatural energy or power of life. It is inherent in .  The suffix -‘i turns an intransitive verb, an adjective or a noun into a transitive verb, and added to a transitive verb it emphasises the “idea of carrying the action through completion. It becomes executive […] as well as transitive” (Churchward 1953: 240–241).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

human beings, animals, plants and inanimate items, yet, they all have a different amount of mana. Traditionally, the Tu‘i Tonga as closest descendant of the divine line and spiritual leader (cf. §2.2.1) had the most mana, followed by his descendants, that is those tracing a blood relation to the Tu‘i Tonga and holding a title. Thus succession and power of a person shows how much mana he has. Mana has often been described as spreading over to other persons or items through contact. This can happen directly by touch with the hands or indirectly by touch through other ‘parts of the body’ (like a person’s shadow or his blood) and by touch of something that has been touched previously (like eating leftovers of another person or using his eating ‘bowl’). It is dangerous for people of less mana to come into contact with more or higher spiritual energy (mana). Therefore, there are many tapu (meaning ‘sacred, forbidden’) concerning people, places, items, and so on, of high mana to protect people of less mana. At the same time this system keeps the societal hierarchy, the special role of the chiefs and especially the king, legitimised and alive (cf. §8.3.1). Tapu exists generally with regard to everything concerning death, a high-ranked person and his body, especially his head, his back and his hands, and special places like the assembly house and the village latrine. Tapu also extends to special rubbish which has been of personal possession, like broken combs, old clothes and cut off hair, ceremonies, war and special work (cf. Greschat 1980: 78–85; Shore 1989). In Tonga, tapu generally exist with regard to people of higher status or rank, such as the father, the mehekitanga (cf. §2.1.3), chiefs and especially the king. The father’s clothes, the bed and food leftovers are tapu for the rest of the family, especially the children. It is also tapu to touch his head. On the village level, there are similar tapu concerning the chief and on the national level even more concerning the king. It is tapu to pass behind a chief ’s back, to touch his head or hair, to eat his leftovers, to sit on his chair and even to sit or stand higher (that is in a higher place) than him. According to Milner (cf. 1961: 302), there is a direct connection between this ritual avoidance (tapu) and the origins of the linguistic system of respect language in Samoa. This connection is also present in Tongan. If we compare the persons, places, items, etc. which are tapu, there is obviously a great correspondence with the words that have respectful equivalents. Mostly items with which a high-ranked person is in close contact (like his clothes, his bed and his food) and the person himself (like his name and his body parts, especially the head) are tapu, and at the same time, there are respectful equivalents for these terms. There are also many tapu concerning death, and linguistically this subject commands a lot of respectful terminology. The language of respect therefore can be regarded as a linguistic or verbal avoidance system of taboo subjects concerning people of higher mana, such as king and chiefs. It is not only tapu to come into contact with the king’s or a chief ’s possessions but it is also tapu to ‘touch those items verbally’, i.e. to use the common



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

word. The head of the king, for example, which is tapu for all people of lower rank or mana is described by a special/respectful term (tu‘i word langi) so that the kakai word (‘ulu) is avoided in reference to the king’s head. However, if the king is referring to his own head, he uses the kakai word because it is not tapu for himself; his head has the same mana compared to himself. This even explains why the Tongan language of respect is a referent honorific system. The king’s or a chief ’s head is tapu for lower ranked people, and accordingly, only those for whom the head is tapu are prohibited from refering to it as ‘ulu ‘head’. A more indirect, general or metaphorical expression is used instead (see semantic nature of the tu‘i and hou‘eiki terms) to circumscribe the tapu object without touching it verbally. All this demonstrates that the Tongan language of respect probably developed as a linguistic avoidance system in close association with the ritual avoidance system of tapu. According to ‘Aisea Hingano’s assumption (cf. §8.3.1), the matāpule introduced this linguistic system to fulfil their duty of protecting the stratified societal order, particularly the authority of the Tu‘i Tonga. Krupa (cf. 1982: 164) postulates this theory of verbal avoidance for all languages of respect in Polynesia, and Lynch (cf. 1998: 258) remarks that this ‘practice of word taboo’ is widespread in Australian and Pacific languages (cf. §8.1).13 Like the system of tapu, the language of respect also protects the high rank of chiefs and especially the king against the possibility of lowering their prestige or status. This corresponds to Brown & Levinson’s description (1987: 178) that a system of honorifics, such as the language of respect, “serves to defuse potential face-threatening acts” by indicating that the speaker recognises the higher social rank of the referent. In this sense, even the ritual avoidance system of tapu can be regarded as an effective device for avoiding face-threatening acts, even though it is not a linguistic but a ritual one. The language of respect and the ritual system of tapu complement each other. The higher societal rank of a person is demonstrated by respecting the tapu (for example not eating a chief ’s or the king’s leftovers) and by using respectful terminology (such as not referring to the chief ’s or king’s food by kakai words). 8.3.3  The use of Tongan respect forms (context) In this section, the contextual features that determine the choice of a particular lexical level will be described in more detail, considering the following questions: in which situation, by whom and with reference to whom are the different lexical levels used?

.  Fox (cf. 2005:  87) also remarks that Austronesian languages show similar structures regarding linguistic means of reflecting sociocultural structures of a society, such as ‘word tabooing’ and ‘honorific speech’.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

In answering these questions, two sources will provide additional information with regard to the content of other approaches. The first comprises several interviews with Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita, a member of the royal family, illustrating how the language of respect is used within these circles (personal communication, 21.1.2003, 19.10.04 and 2.11.04); and the second is the inquiry in Niutoua (questions 29 and 30) which gives information about the use and knowledge of the language of respect on a village level. The general rules which have already been described in Section 8.3 are summarised in Table 8.12: Table 8.12.  General rules according to which the three lexical levels are used kakai hou‘eiki tu‘i

–– vocabulary used to address or refer to a commoner –– vocabulary used by the speaker to refer to himself/herself –– vocabulary used to address or refer to a chief (nōpele and traditional chiefs) and all members of the royal family, i.e. all who can trace a blood relation to the king –– vocabulary used to address or refer to the king (formerly the Tu‘i Tonga)

However, the use of the respect vocabulary is not only restricted to the chiefs, members of the royal family and the king. Tu‘i terms are regularly extended in reference and address to God, for example in prayers of the Free Wesleyan Church, the Free Church of Tonga, and the Church of Tonga, and hou‘eiki terms to the church ministers.14 Hou‘eiki terms are also used for people in non-traditional positions of authority in institutional complexes in Tonga, like the ministers of parliament, and people in positions of high authority or status outside Tonga, like presidents of other countries (cf. Philips 1991:  376–378). These are cases which have not been considered in the traditional use of the language of respect. They have been incorporated into the honorific system at a later date, and ­therefore most of them are not clearly assigned to a lexical level. a.  The use of tu‘i vocabulary The use of tu‘i vocabulary is the most unequivocal case. Without exception, tu‘i vocabulary is used to address and refer to God as well as to the king. This can easily be explained by the concepts of mana and tapu which have been discussed as an explanation for the development of the language of respect. Traditionally, the Tu‘i Tonga, as the most direct descendant of the divine line and the spiritual leader, had the most mana and he was therefore surrounded by a lot of tapu and the tu‘i vocabulary was used to refer to him and to his possessions and actions, .  Philips (cf. 1991: 376–377) remarks that tu‘i terms are also used to address or refer to Jesus but this is not the case (see below). Her example ho ‘alo ‘your TU‘I:son’ actually refers to God (his son) and not Jesus (which would imply ‘the son of Jesus’). Elsewhere, she comments that the hou‘eiki word for death (pekia) is used to refer to the death of Jesus.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

etc. Today, the king (or queen) is the highest ranked person in Tonga; being the closest relative to the divine line since the Tu‘i Tonga and Tu‘i Ha‘atakalaua lines became defunct, and genealogically incorporating all three lines (cf. §2.2.1). The tu‘i vocabulary is used for the king and God, representing the spiritual power following the import of Christianity. Examples 15 to 17 illustrate the use of tu‘i vocabulary. As Example 15 is part of an old myth about the origin of kava and sugar cane, the tu‘i words probably still refer to the Tu‘i Tonga (although Tu‘i is translated as ‘king’). In Example 16, the tu‘i words are used to address and refer to the present king, and in Example 17, the referent is God. (15) Tchekhoff (1981: 60; emphasis by the author, S.V.): Ne fu‘u halofia ‘aupito ‘ae Tu‘í pea … ta:past suddenly tu‘i:hungry very abs+art King and … But the king was really hungry and … (16) Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita and Kalisi Matoto Fine (Interview, 21.1.2003): [part of a dialogue in which a chief or commoner is addressing the king] Malo e Lakoifie ‘a e ‘Afio na. tu‘i:hello abs art tu‘i:you/Majesty Thank you for being well your Majesty (formal greeting). (17) Bible Ko e tohitapu katoa (1966: Chapter 1, 3–4): Pea folofola ‘a e ‘Otua, ke maama mai: pea na‘e maama. and tu‘i:say abs art God that light dir:us and ta:past light Pea ‘afio ‘e he ‘Otua ki he maama, kuo lelei: pea and tu‘i:see erg art God p:all art light ta:perf good and na‘e vahe‘i ‘e he ‘Otua ‘a e maama mei he po‘uli. ta:past divide erg art God abs art light p:abl art darkness And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.

b.  The use of hou‘eiki vocabulary Traditionally the hou‘eiki vocabulary was only used for the chiefs. Since the introduction of the modern societal system it has been transferred to the nobles (nōpele) although it is still used for the traditional chiefs (such as Tāmale in Niutoua). Apart from chiefs, the members of the royal family also trace a blood relation to the king, and consequently, they also have to be addressed and referred to by hou‘eiki terms. Traditionally this was probably the same for the members of the Tu‘i Tonga’s family. Traditionally the priests (taula) came from the groups of matāpule or lower ranked chiefs and they were not treated with any particular respect until they became inspired by their deity. They were then regarded as God incarnate and

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

were paid the appropriate respect (cf. Ferdon 1987: 77–78); among other types of deferential treatment, probably the tu‘i vocabulary was used to address and refer to them. Today, the church ministers are regarded as co-workers of God, and many commoners use hou‘eiki terminology in reference to the faifekau ‘minister’. However, there is no strict regulation (‘Ungatea Fonua Kata: personal communication, 15.1.2003 and 29.11.2004).15 In modern society, the hou‘eiki terminology may also be used for a few other people of special authority, such as ministers of parliament, presidents of other countries and foreign royalty, to show respect. Hon. Albert Tu‘ivanuavou Vea (personal communication, 7.2.2003) calls it the “rise of ministers of parliament and church ministers” because traditionally they were not considered in the use of hou‘eiki terminology. However, these cases are not unequivocally integrated into the honorific system which means that there are no strict regulations. It depends on the situation and the writer (for example of a newspaper article) or speaker which lexical level they use (‘Ungatea Fonua Kata: personal communication, 29.11.2004). Most people would always use hou‘eiki terms to address and refer to royalty of other countries, such as the Queen of Great Britain and even the chiefs of Samoa. However, no matter how high a person’s status may be, they never reach the honorific level of the king (which is expressed by tu‘i vocabulary). With non-royal high authorities from outside Tonga (such as the American president), the newspapers predominantly use kakai words. Only the subject ‘death’ seems to be treated with a high level of respect, and therefore a president or political leader’s death is referred to by the hou‘eiki term pekia (cf. Example 21 and Note  14). If non-royal high authorities from outside Tonga are in Tonga and directly addressed or referred to while they are present, hou‘eiki terms are most likely to be used (Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita: personal correspondence, 26.5.2005). Summarising, the chiefs and members of the royal family are the only ones that have to be referred to by hou‘eiki terms to show deference. The other cases have been more or less integrated into the honorific system at a later point, and they are not always treated in a homogeneous way. Examples 18 to 21 illustrate the use of hou‘eiki vocabulary. While Examples 18 and 19 are used to address or refer to hou‘eiki people (18: chief; 19: member of the royal family), the referent in Example 20 is a person of institutional authority in Tonga, and the one in Example 21 is a person of high authority outside Tonga.

.  ‘Inoke Folau (personal communication, 9.10.2004) remarks that even if a chief is around, he accepts the use of hou‘eiki vocabulary for the ministers (although not with a mehekitanga) and even sometimes uses it himself to address or refer to a minister.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

(18) fono-meeting in Niutoua (Nov. 2004): [a commoner to Tāmale, the chief] Fakamālō ho‘o me‘a mai. thankyou poss:2sg hou‘eiki:come dir:us Thank you for your coming. (19) Newspaper Kalonikali (19.6.2003: 1): Ko pr

‘Eiki Lupepau‘u Salamasina Purea Vahine Arii ‘o e Hau Fusitu’a [full name and title of Princess Pilolevu’s eldest daughter]

‘i hono ‘ilo ‘a e fuofua kava ‘i he p:loc poss:3sg hou‘eiki:drink abs art first kava p:loc art katoanga ta‘ane faka-Tonga. celebration hou‘eiki:wedding adj-Tonga Hon. Lupepau‘u Salamasina Purea Vahine Arii ‘o e Hau Fusitu‘a receiving/ drinking the first kava at the Tongan wedding celebration. (20) Philips (cf. 1991: 378): [a Police Prosecutor addresses the Magistrate during a Magistrate’s Court proceeding] Ko pr

e hā ha me‘a ma‘olunga ‘a e art what art hou‘eiki:say judicious/wise p:poss art

feitu‘una ‘e ‘aonga ki he faka‘iloa ‘e hou‘eiki:you ta:fut helpful p:all art accused ta:fut fiemālie ki ai e talatalaaki. satisfied p:all anaph art prosecutor Any opinion of yours that would help the accused as well as the prosecutor. (21) Newspaper Talaki (19.11.2004: 22): Ko pr

e pekia ko art hou‘eiki:deceased pr

ia ‘a e taki ‘o e 3sg abs art leader p:poss art

kakai Palesitaine … people Palestinian The deceased leader of the Palestinian people …

c.  The use of kakai vocabulary So far we have seen that kakai terms are used to address and refer to commoners (Example 22). Even Jesus is with only a few exceptions addressed and referred to by kakai language (Example 23), obviously to highlight his closeness to all kinds of people, especially the ordinary ones, among whom he lived (‘Ungatea Fonua Kata: personal communication, 29.11.2004). The use of respectful terms would create distance. However, in a few cases, hou‘eiki terms are used to refer to Jesus,

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

­ robably because the translator wanted to point out that he is the son of God. The p tu‘i term for son in Example 23 actually occurs because the referent in this context is God and not Jesus (cf. Note 14). If we compare Jesus to the church ministers, it is remarkable that both can be regarded as co-workers of God but hou‘eiki terminology is used more for the church ministers than Jesus. Moreover, kakai vocabulary is used by all kinds of people (commoners as well as chiefs and the king) if they refer to themselves. This is illustrated by Example 24. (22) Tchekhoff (1981: 59; emphasis by the author, S.V.): [part of a story in which the king appears; this part is about Kava, a commoner] Me‘a pango ne si‘i puke ‘a Kava he thing regrettable ta:past art:emot kakai:sick abs Kava art kiliá pea ne si‘i nofo pe ‘i fale. leprosy and ta:past art:emot kakai:stay only p:loc home It was a pity that Kava was ill with leprosy and had to stay at home. (23) Bible Ko e tohitapu katoa (1966: St.Matthew Chapter 3, 16–17): Pea kuo papitasio ‘a Sisu, na‘a ne ‘alu hake and ta:perf baptise abs Jesus ta:past 3sg kakai:go dir:up leva mei he vai; … Ko Hoku ‘Alo Pele ‘ena, … at once p:abl art water … pr poss:1sg tu‘i:son beloved this And Jesus, when he was baptised, went up straightway out of the water: … [And lo a voice from heaven, saying,] This is my beloved Son, … (24) Shumway (1971: 602; emphasis by the author, S.V.): [part of a dialogue between a commoner (Peace Corps volunteer) and a nōpele (Nuku)] Nuku: Ko ‘eku ‘alu pē ki kolo ‘o ‘ai ‘eku ki‘i me‘a. pr poss:1sg kakai:go only p:all town and do poss:1sg little thing   I’m just going to town to take care of a little business.

According to the rules of language usage, it is possible that common (kakai) and respectful (hou‘eiki or tu‘i) vocabulary occurs within the same sentence, as demonstrated in Example 25. (25) Shumway (1971: 602; emphasis by the author, S.V.): [part of a dialogue between a commoner (Peace Corps volunteer) and a nōpele (Nuku)] PCV: Ko ia, na‘á ku fanongo na‘á ke tengetange hou‘eiki:yes ta:past 1sg kakai:hear ta:past 2sg hou‘eiki:ill

 

he uike kuo ‘osí. art week last

  I see, I heard that you were ill last week.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

In Example 25, ko ia is the hou‘eiki word for ‘yes’ and refers to the sentence Nuku has just uttered before (Example 24). The hou‘eiki equivalent is used because it refers to a noble, that is something he has said previously. Then, the Peace Corps volunteer uses the kakai word fanongo ‘hear’ because it refers to his own action. Finally, the hou‘eiki word tengetange for ‘ill’ occurs because it refers to Nuku again. Generally, it is important to note that honorific vocabulary is more strictly used according to the rules in official formal context that Duranti (cf. 1992: 86) calls ‘on stage’ than in private talk. Typical official contexts in a village are the speeches at a fono ‘village meeting’ or at ceremonial events. Whenever the king or members of the royal family are present, this always creates an official atmosphere and honorific vocabulary has to be used to address or refer to them. Further examples of the use of honorific terminology can especially be found in official talk (for example fono meetings) but also in written poems and myths where the metaphorical character of honorific terms raises the level of beauty and politeness. 8.3.3.1  The use of the language of respect at a village level (Niutoua) The results of my inquiry in Niutoua (question 29 and 30), observations and special interviews with ‘Eseta Lolomana‘ia who is Tāmale’s wife (25.11.2002), ‘Ungatea Fonua Kata (15.1.2003 and 29.11.2004) and ‘Inoke Folau (9.10.2004 and 11.11.2004) coincide with the general information about the language of respect, but also they provide additional information about the knowledge and use of respect vocabulary at a village level. Most people know the respect vocabulary quite well according to their own estimation. There is a tendency that some younger people have a limited knowledge of it, especially if they are hardly in contact with higher ranked people. Even though all Tongan schools teach respect terminology (with Ko e tohi kalama), an active command seems to require practice. Some Tongans of the middle-aged generation, mostly those who have spent a certain amount of time overseas (for example New Zealand), have a critical attitude towards the language of respect. They do not feel lower ranked than chiefs and consequently refuse to speak hou‘eiki language if they are addressing or referring to them. However, if they want to avoid giving offence or ‘face-threatening acts’ by using kakai vocabulary instead, they switch to English which has no comparable honorific system and does not distinguish between chiefs and commoners. This code-switching to English is done regardless of whether the speaker still knows the language of respect or not. While some speakers consciously use English instead of hou‘eiki towards the chiefs, others do not have the choice any more because they have lost their knowledge of respect vocabulary which they once learnt at school. In Niutoua, people generally use hou‘eiki addressing or referring to Tāmale, the chief (a hou‘eiki but not a nōpele) of the village. However, communication circumstances have to be taken into account. In private talk, if a commoner meets

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

the chief on his own, quite often kakai is used to address the chief, or the commoner switches to English to avoid the kakai-hou‘eki problem (provided that the speaker has English knowledge). In public talk, if other people are around and especially at public events, such as at a village meeting or in church, the commoner should use hou‘eiki terms when addressing or referring to the chief. Apart from Tāmale, the people of Niutoua named other chiefs (nōpele or hou‘eiki) that they meet and to whom they normally use the hou‘eiki words. These are the nōpele of Kolonga (Nuku) who is the noble of the neighbouring village, the nōpele of Nukunuku (Tu‘ivakano) whose mother is the sister of the town officer of Niutoua, and other chiefs that the people of Niutoua meet at work in Nuku‘alofa or if they are visiting their village of origin. Some commoners who work closely together with nobles or other chiefs (for example in the army) do not permanently use hou‘eiki vocabulary addressing or referring to these chiefs because they consider it too exhausting. Besides, in such a daily context, some chiefs even prefer to be addressed and referred to by kakai terms in order not to be isolated. This shows that the choice of the lexical level not only depends on the referent but also on the situation. Besides the work place kakai may be used in situations of friendship and intimacy towards each other, even if one is higher ranked than the other, because the use of hou‘eiki terminology creates distance. Close members of the royal family are an exception, as they must always be addressed or referred to by hou‘eiki words due to stricter regulations. Within Tāmale’s family, his children should normally also use hou‘eiki words for him but Tāmale does not want them to do so as it would create distance and he likes to be integrated and close to his own family (‘Eseta Lolomana‘ia: personal communication, 25.11.2002).16 Furthermore, if a commoner is related to a hou‘eiki person and talks about him in his absence to people who know that the speaker is related to the hou‘eiki person, he will most probably use kakai vocabulary (as in Samoan; cf. Duranti 1992: 84–85). An explanation might be the strategy of ‘giving deference’, that is the practice of a speaker abasing himself or raising the referent but with the avoidance of raising himself and abasing the referent. As the commoner has a kin relation to the hou‘eiki person (in contrast to the hearer), he would raise himself indirectly vis-à-vis the hearer by using hou‘eiki words referring to his relative. It would point out that he is related to the hou‘eiki person while the hearer is not. A few people also mention Tāmale’s wife, church ministers (particularly Catholic priests) and sometimes even ministers’ wives as persons who are .  In a familiar context, mostly among close family members, the kinship relation is more important than the ‘role distance’ between chief and commoner (cf. Marcus 1980: 442). This is expressed by the use of kakai language.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

occasionally addressed or referred to by hou‘eiki vocabulary. According to them, it is kind to address or refer to the chief ’s wife and the church ministers by using hou‘eiki vocabulary although it is not obligatory. Others call this misuse; they realise that hou‘eiki language is used for the district officer, the church minister or other communal authorities of an event, especially if Tāmale is absent, but they call it incorrect. If the chief was around, who is the only person in Niutoua officially addressed and referred to by hou‘eiki vocabulary, it would create an unacceptable situation. This unofficial use of hou‘eiki language is becoming increasingly common as people get used to it. Some younger people further mention the use of hou‘eiki words for older referents in situations of respect. These are all referents who do not have a higher rank but a certain amount of prestige within the ‘village hierarchy’ according to their age (cf. §1.3.2). In such cases, the language of respect is generally used to raise the level of politeness in more formal discourse situations, i.e. in a public context, such as in church. Therefore a person may indirectly lower himself by using hou‘eiki terms with another commoner. Philips (1991:  378) describes a similar example which was recorded in a Free Wesleyan Church service. In this example, hou‘eiki terms were used to address or refer to commoners with the aim “to raise the level of formality and politeness generally”. Similarly, hou‘eiki words occur in poetry, songs and performed speech “to enhance the beauty and persuasiveness of what is said” because of the metaphorical qualities of these words (Philips 1991: 379). Moreover, some people of Niutoua even use the language of respect in informal situations to or about other commoners for teasing them. It is remarkable that the language of respect is not used with people of higher status within the family hierarchy, such as the mehekitanga or other ‘eiki relatives (cf. §2.1.3). This could actually be expected, since non-linguistic respectful behaviour (such as tapu) also characterises the relationship towards them. So why are they not considered in the linguistic honorific system? A possible explanation is that family members are perceived as familiar and the language of respect is used mostly in formal situations. Besides, it would be extremely complicated and hard to navigate if everybody used hou‘eiki terms with their ‘eiki relatives, as it is dependent on the speaker’s perspective who is of higher status. So what would happen if the speaker refers to a person who is ‘eiki (higher) with regard to them but tu‘a (lower) with regard to the hearer? In such a case, it would be polite to use honorific terms from the speaker’s perspective but at the same time, this would offend the hearer who is ‘eiki. The choice of the lexical level would consequently create an unsolvable problem. Even at official family events therefore the hou‘eiki language is only used to address and refer to Tāmale or other chiefs who are present. This clearly shows that the language of respect only reflects the absolute societal hierarchy (in this case at the village level).

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

8.3.3.2  The use of the language of respect within the royal family The use of hou‘eiki vocabulary is even more complex as the information about the use of the honorific system within the royal family will show (Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita: personal communication, 21.1.2003, 19.10.2004 and 2.11.2004). Normally, two people of higher rank (hou‘eiki or tu‘i) will not both use respectful vocabulary if they address or refer to each other. Either they both speak kakai or the higher ranked of them addresses or refers to the lower ranked with kakai while the other uses the adequate respect vocabulary (hou‘eiki or tu‘i) in return, such as in Example 26.17 The king must always be addressed or referred to by tu‘i words (cf. Example 16) but in return, he uses kakai to address or refer to a hou‘eiki person. In this way, the use of honorific vocabulary towards each other is avoided. (26) Hon. Fanetupouvava’u Tuita (Interview, 2.11.2004): [a possible dialogue between the king’s son, nōpele Ma‘atu, and the king’s daughter, Princess Pilolevu; nōpele Ma‘atu about Princess Pilolevu] Na‘e me‘a ‘a Pilolevu ki Nu‘u Sila. ta:past hou‘eiki:go abs Pilolevu p:all New Zealand Pilolevu went to New Zealand.

Princess Pilolevu and nōpele Ma‘atu are both members of the royal family but Princess Pilolevu is relatively higher ranked than her brother nōpele Ma‘atu. Consequently, he uses hou‘eiki vocabulary addressing or referring to her (cf. Example 26) but if she uttered the same sentence about him, she would have used the kakai word ‘alu instead: Na‘e ‘alu ‘a Ma‘atu ki Nu‘u Sila ‘Ma‘atu went to New Zealand’. However, to be polite, especially if people are around, and to make it less complicated, she would also use hou‘eiki language towards him but this is actually not what she is expected to do. When the king is outside of Tonga, for example during his stays overseas, there is a special hierarchical order of who represents him in Tonga during this time. Firstly, it is his oldest son the crown prince, and if he is absent as well, the king’s other son, the prime minister, is the second in the line of substitution. If they were all absent from Tonga the king’s daughter, Princess Pilolevu, would represent the king during this period. Whoever is representing the king is also addressed or referred to by tu‘i language. In Example 27, it is Princess Pilolevu, as at that time the king, the crown prince and the prime minister were away from Tonga.

.  Similarly, Tamāle (the traditional chief of Niutoua) would use hou‘eiki terminology with Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita while she would address and refer to him by kakai terms.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

(27) Newspaper Talaki (15.10.2004): ‘I he folofola-fakaava ‘a e Ta‘ahine p:loc art tu‘i:speak-open p:poss art tu‘i:woman Tu‘i Fakale‘o … regent (performing the work, normally done by the king) In the opening speech of regent (here: Princess Pilolevu) …

As a member of the royal family, Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita is addressed and referred to by hou‘eiki vocabulary whenever commoners and even some hou‘eiki people (mainly chiefs) talk to or about her. However, she recognises that younger people in particular switch more and more to English if they talk to her. From her point of view this happens because they learn less and less about the language of respect. Although it is taught at school, a lot of traditions are still passed on orally in Tongan society, and when the older generation dies some of the knowledge dies with them. Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita has learnt the respect vocabulary and the respectful behavioural patterns towards people of higher rank since childhood within her family. Most children with higher ranked family members gain their knowledge during their early socialisation. If a commoner talks to Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita, they use kakai words referring to themselves and hou‘eiki words addressing and referring to her. On the other hand, she uses kakai referring to them as well as to herself. Even her friends and the people she works with use hou‘eiki vocabulary when addressing or referring to her. This can lead to strange situations. Her boss at work, for example, uses hou‘eiki with her. In this way, the boss shows the demanded respect according to the absolute Tongan hierarchy but at the same time, it is the job of a boss to be in command of his people at work, even a member of the royal family. This situation is therefore difficult to handle. Within the royal family, everybody uses tu‘i words to address or refer to the king. As the language of respect creates distance, it is impossible to be personal with the king. Consequently, Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita has never had a normal ‘grandfather-granddaughter’ relationship with the king. The only way to be less formal is to switch to English. The king, on the other hand, can choose whatever lexical level he likes to use (even with his ‘eiki relatives, i.e. his father’s side, which he acknowledges in other ways, such as tapu). Normally he uses kakai words if he addresses or refers to members of his family. His choice of kakai instead of hou‘eiki vocabulary seems to avoid the strange situation of two people both using respect vocabulary to and about each other. Similarly, two members of the royal family do not both use hou‘eiki vocabulary if they talk to or about each other. Tongan people are never exactly of

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

the same rank (cf. §2.2.2), so this relative ranking within the group of hou‘eiki people, such as chiefly title holders and the members of the royal family, determines who is supposed to be addressed and referred to by hou‘eiki terminology.18 Therefore there are several people of higher rank that Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u is supposed to address and refer to by hou‘eiki while they use kakai words with her, but if she has higher rank she is supposed to use kakai while they use hou‘eiki terms with her. Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita addresses or refers to her parents by hou‘eiki terminology while her parents in return use kakai words if they talk to or about her. With her brother, her sister and more distant relatives, she uses kakai terms. The ministers of parliament and the nōpele are supposed to use hou‘eiki words addressing or referring to the grandchildren of the king (such as Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita) while the king’s grandchildren normally talk in kakai to or about them. Only since HRH Princess Sālote Mafile‘o Pilolevu (the king’s daughter) asked her children to use hou‘eiki words towards the ministers and nobles to show respect has the problematic situation developed of two people using hou‘eiki to and about each other. Even Hon. Fanetupouvava‘u Tuita’s parents avoid both speaking hou‘eiki to or about each other. They use kakai vocabulary in private contexts but if one of them talks in public about the other, they use hou‘eiki terminology. This again demonstrates that the choice of the lexical level does not only depend on the referent but also on the situation such as ‘public talk’ versus ‘private talk’. Summarising, all these examples and information have revealed that the hou‘eiki vocabulary is not only used to address or refer to the chiefs and that even chiefs are not always addressed or referred to by hou‘eiki vocabulary. There are also examples of extended use of tu‘i vocabulary besides its application to the king. Table 8.13 gives a final overview of the use of different lexical levels.

.  Bott (1981: 11, 19–20) describes that during her research in the reign of the late Queen Sālote, people also used the language of respect for title holders who were not of aristocratic blood (cf. §2.2.1) but not when a person of higher rank was present. People also showed deference by using the chiefly terminology with aristocrats who did not hold a title (cf. §2.2.1), however, in the presence of an aristocrat with title, ordinary vocabulary was used with aristocrats without title and chiefly vocabulary with title holders who were considered ‘more chiefly’. It would be interesting to see what happens if the relative kāinga status between two hou‘eiki people conflicts with their ha‘a rank: which hierarchical structure would then be decisive?



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

Table 8.13.  Specific rules according to which of the three lexical levels are used kakai

–– vocabulary used to address or refer to a commoner (even Jesus) –– vocabulary used by every kind of speaker to refer to themselves (and if a commoner refers to his close hou‘eiki relative and thus would raise himself indirectly vis-à-vis another commoner) –– vocabulary used to address or refer to at least one hou‘eiki person (the one of relatively higher rank) if two hou‘eiki persons are talking to or about each other –– vocabulary used in situations of informality, friendship or intimacy

hou‘eiki

–– vocabulary used to address or refer to a chief and all members of the royal family (because they all have a blood relation to the king) – normally only if the speaker is of lower rank than the referent –– vocabulary used by some to address or refer to church ministers (to show respect; non-traditional use) –– vocabulary sometimes used to address or refer to people in non-traditional positions of high authority inside Tonga (to show respect; non-traditional use) –– vocabulary used to address or refer to people in positions of high authority outside Tonga, especially royalty of foreign countries (to show respect; non-traditional use) –– vocabulary used to raise the level of formality and politeness in public discourse (oratorical speeches and literature like newspaper articles, tales and poems); or for joking in informal situations

tu‘i

–– vocabulary used to address or refer to the king (or his representative inside Tonga if he is overseas) –– vocabulary used to address or refer to God

Generally, the different lexical levels represent the three levels of rank within the present Tongan society, or more precisely its absolute hierarchy. In the special case of two people of higher rank talking to or about each other, the choice of the lexical level is determined by their relative rank towards each other (as in Tonga no two people are of exactly equal rank). However, the use of respect vocabulary as presented in Table 8.13 cannot only be explained by the rank of the referent, more precisely the referent’s rank in relation to the speaker. It also varies depending on the context. In formal situations, such as a fono meeting, a kava session or whenever a member of the royal family is present, the language of respect is more strictly used according to the general regulations than in an informal context, such as private talk or kin relations and friendship between a commoner and a chief. Furthermore, there are also situations (mostly informal ones) in which the language of respect is instrumentalised. This means that the hou‘eiki vocabulary is not used to address or refer to chiefs or members of the royal family but with commoners to raise the level of formality and politeness – either seriously or for humour.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

The factors that determine the use of respect vocabulary that have been described so far for Tongan, that is the referent’s rank, the context and even its instrumentalised usage to raise the level of politeness and formality, are similar to what other studies surmise about the use of Samoan respect vocabulary. Milner (1961: 297) generally remarks that besides the general principles for the use of Samoan respect vocabulary (cf. §8.3), there are “many modifications and individual variations according to the temperament of the speaker and his relationship with the people addressed”. Duranti (cf. 1992:  83–93) analyses these modifications and variations in detail and mentions the following features which determine the use of the respect vocabulary. He calls the general principles ‘context-features’, that is the referent’s societal rank. But these principles only determine the choice of respect vocabulary in some contexts, especially in formal meetings. Respectful vocabulary is further used “with anyone when the intention is to signal or support a formal interaction” while “the use of everyday vocabulary signals intimacy and commonness” (Shore 1977: 457). As a further special context that determines the use of respectful terminology, Duranti (cf. 1992:  86) describes ‘temporal and spatial boundaries’. Even at official events, such as fono meetings, the use of respectful vocabulary is stricter if people are ‘on stage’ rather than in ‘back stage’ situations. In other situations, the choice of the lexical level even defines the context, for example the role of the referent. A speaker uses respectful words with a person in a special situation to point out his role as a chief. In another situation, the speaker uses common words with the same addressee/referent to stress his role as brother. In this way, the choice between respectful or common words even defines the situation (chief or brother), so that the language of respect is instrumentalised. In this way respectful words can even function as an instrument to manipulate others because their use obliges the addressee/referent to behave in a certain way appropriate to the role and rank expressed by the honorific vocabulary (cf. Duranti 1992: 93–94), for example a chief is supposed to be generous (cf. §4.3). In Tonga, the context is not decisive for all kinds of lexical levels. While the ‘formal/on stage’ versus ‘informal/off stage’ distinction may influence the use of hou‘eiki terminology with chiefs, nearly all situations involving members of the royal family are inherently formal (see above) due to their presence and thus demand hou‘eiki vocabulary. On the tu‘i level, there is no choice at all, that is whenever someone (no matter who and in which situation) addresses or refers to the king, tu‘i terminology has to be used. In the same way, instrumentalisation of respectful terminology (i.e. the use of a lexical level to define the context, such as raising the level of formality and politeness) is possible with hou‘eiki but not with tu‘i terminology.



Chapter 8.  The language of respect 

8.4  Conclusion This chapter about language of respect has shown at various points that there is a strong connection between language and culture. The language of respect can be classified as a referent honorific system, encoding the difference in rank between speaker and referent according to the absolute societal hierarchy. It is restricted to lexical items and consists of three lexical levels: kakai, hou‘eiki and tu‘i. Kakai is the language of the common people and hou‘eiki and tu‘i are two limited sets of respectful terms which are either used to refer to chiefs, members of the royal family and non-traditional authorities inside and outside of Tonga (such as foreign royalty) if the speaker is of lower rank than the referent (hou‘eiki) or to refer to the king or God (tu‘i). The Tongan language of respect has probably developed as a linguistic avoidance system in close association with the ritual avoidance system of tapu, as both systems protect and respect the high rank of chiefs and especially the king, thereby stabilising the societal stratification. The semantic analysis of terms which have respectful equivalents supports this connection between the language of respect and the mana-tapu system. The people of higher rank are surrounded by a plethora of tapu to avoid people of lower mana coming into physical contact with them. There is a striking correspondence between the tapu items and the words with respectful equivalents, that is items/ activities which represent higher ranked people or with which they come into close contact (such as body parts, name, actions, clothes and other personal possessions). Therefore the language of respect can be regarded as a linguistic avoidance or tapu system. The metaphorical character of the respectful terms prevents the tapu items from being linguistically touched in a direct way. The speech preludes (cf. §2.2.3) which are even explicitly composed of the formula ‘tapu mo …’ to mention the higher ranked people are a similar linguistic means of respecting societal rank. On most formal occasions (such as the kava ceremony of a royal coronation), the language of respect and the speech preludes occur in combination with further visualisations of the hierarchical order, such as sitting order (a spatial representation; cf. §3.5) and gift exchange components (possessive networks; cf. §4.2). These different structures respect the sovereign in various ways, and they all serve to introduce him into his new societal position and to maintain the societal hierarchy.

chapter 9

Conclusions This ethnolinguistic study has revealed the close connection between culture and language for several social, spatial and possessive features. Tonga is a highly ­stratified society in which no one is of equal social status or societal rank. The two hierarchical structures, that is relative status (tu‘a versus ‘eiki relationships) within the family (kāinga) and absolute rank (tu‘i, hou‘eiki and kakai) within the society, are anchored in the conceptualisation of the world. The more closely someone is related to the divine descent line, the more spiritual power (mana) they have and the higher their rank is. People with superior rank or status, such as the king, the chiefs, the father’s sister (mehekitanga) or the father (tamai), are ­surrounded by various taboos (tapu) in order to prevent others from getting in touch with more mana which is regarded as dangerous. This idea also protects the hierarchical structures. Stratification is an important and central aspect of Tongan culture and therefore it is expressed in various ways. It forms the underlying structure of the following social, spatial and possessive features: –– land tenure system, –– seating order and other spatial arrangements (i.e. social space), –– flow of mutual support and gift in exchange processes (i.e. possessive network structures), –– other tasks and privileges, special behaviour and clothing, –– speech preludes, –– kinship terminology, –– language of respect, –– spatial coordinates and terminology, and at least partly –– A- versus O-possessed kinship relations and other personal relationships. The detailed analysis of the linguistic features has shown that they are deeply anchored in the sociocultural system and that their structure and usage can only be analysed in this context. The linguistic structures are perfectly designed to express the sociocultural categories adequately and therefore they are ­apparently ­associated with corresponding cognitive patters. The usage of these linguistic

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

means/tools even maintains and reinforces the underlying sociocultural (and cognitive) system. Firstly, the kinship terminology is adjusted to the relative tu‘a/‘eiki system, whereby each kinship term unequivocally subsumes relatives who are all in the same status position towards ego.1 The distinctive semantic features with relevance for the kinship terminology are the same as those of the underlying social principles which determine the status within the family (kāinga). In this way, the cognitive classification of relatives subsumed under the same term is in alignment with the mental representation of the relative hierarchy, and therefore kinship terminology even implicitly reflects differences in status. This becomes particularly apparent when Tongans use the English kinship terminology in which the classification of relatives differs strongly from Tongan. Mostly, Tongans use the English terms according to the Tongan kinship classification, for example, both cousins and siblings are called ‘brother’ or ‘sister’ and the term ‘father’ is not only used to describe the father but also the father’s brother. These interferences demonstrate that English does not provide an adequate ­linguistic means to describe the culture-specific social structures in the same unequivocal and non-redundant way as the Tongan kinship terminology. Consequently, the Tongan kinship terminology is not only anchored in the sociocultural system, but it can be considered a perfect linguistic means to express and thus maintain the social structure within the family (kāinga). Secondly, speech preludes are introductory formulas of speeches which express and honour the societal hierarchy. The audience is welcomed and addressed in order of absolute rank, that is the highest rank person or those with most spiritual power (mana) is mentioned first. The formal structure of speech preludes is ‘tapu mo + title/name’ which can be translated as ‘my respects to …’. As it is taboo (tapu) to directly name or address higher ranked people, the formula can be regarded as an apology and a kind of name avoidance; such as the metaphorical and respectful circumscriptions used in reference to people of high rank. Thirdly, the language of respect is another linguistic means of expressing ­societal rank. More precisely, the language of respect is a referent honorific system which encodes the difference in rank between speaker and referent by the usage of different lexical items (tu‘i, hou‘eiki and kakai). The fact that the tu‘i vocabulary

.  Cognitive anthropologists and linguists have analysed and discussed the underlying principles of kinship terminology in both universalistic and relativistic schools of thought (cf. Foley 1997:  131–149; Barnard 2000:  115–117). This study has shown that although the Tongan kinship terminology can be classified as an ‘Hawaiian type’ according to universalistic approaches, however the semantic structure represents the culture-specific social hierarchy.



Chapter 9.  Conclusions 

is only used for God and the king, considered the closest descendant of the divine line, demonstrates that this linguistic system is based on societal structure and the way the world is conceptualised. The language of respect has probably deve­ loped as a linguistic avoidance system in close association with the ritual avoidance system of tapu as both systems protect and respect the high rank (and mana) of the king and other people of special rank within the societal hierarchy. Similar to other linguistic avoidance systems, the respectful terminology substitutes common words referring to the king’s person, his actions and his personal possessions, or those of other higher ranked people, by more metaphorical or general equivalents. Therefore the tapu people or items are not even linguistically ‘touched’ in a direct way. This shows that the language of respect is a linguistic structure based on the sociocultural system and a tool for honouring and thus maintaining the social stratification. This function of honorific vocabulary becomes particularly clear in situations in which Tongans refuse to accept their lower societal position and thus avoid using the language of respect. They negotiate the stratification by switching to English which does not encode societal rank of the referent. The use of honorific vocabulary therefore contributes to the collaborative construction of hierarchical relationships. The analysis of situations in which several higher ranked people talk about or to each other reveals that the use of honorific forms not only reflects the three general levels of rank (king, chiefs and commoners) but also more complex hierarchical structures (i.e. differences of rank between two hou‘eiki people; for example ha‘a ranking). Whenever changes of the societal structure have occurred, new authorities have been integrated into this linguistic honorific system, demonstrating that the language of respect can display multiple situations of societal stratification. Apart from purely reflecting the hierarchical structure between speech act participants, the language of respect may also be context-dependent or even instrumentalised (i.e. its usage to create a specific context or atmosphere). Just as the seating order is stricter at official kava circles, the language of respect is particularly used in formal situations.2 At important societal occasions, such as a royal coronation, the new hierarchical order is visualised and reinforced by various cultural and linguistic means: the seating and serving order at the kava ceremony, gift exchange components, speech preludes and the language of respect. Fourthly, space is a central aspect in the representation, creation and communication of status and rank relations in Tonga. The seating order of a kava circle as

.  This connection between linguistic forms, the context of their use and hierarchical relationships between the social actors has been investigated in several ethnolinguistic studies, such as Keating (cf. 1998) for Ponapean and Duranti (cf. 1994) for Samoan.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

well as other seating arrangements are spatially organised according to the rank and status of its participants; ‘higher situated’ and ‘front’ positions are associated with higher societal rank or social status. Linguistically, mu‘a ‘front’ is even defined by sociocultural parameters – in contrast to mata which describes an intrinsic ‘front’, such as the area in front of the receiving door of a building. For the inside of a spatial area, mu‘a describes the part where the highest ranked or most prominent member of the event is seated, and all other coordinates apply accordingly. In this context mu‘a does not allow a relative reading. Apart from this close relation between linguistic and cultural features (i.e. the influence of cultural structures on linguistic definitions), the analysis of spatial descriptions has also revealed connections between language and landscape as well as between language and cognition. Within the village area which descends towards the sea, the absolute ‘up/inland-down/sea’ axis is often used in route descriptions. This orientation pattern which is determined by the typical landscape of islands occurs in numerous Oceanic languages. Apart from this absolute axis, the route descriptions within Niutoua also contain relative ‘left-right’ elements. Comparing the usage of these two reference systems, it is conspicuous that the relative ‘leftright’ axis is used to describe directions on the weak traverse (i.e. an undifferentiated axis orthogonal to the ‘up-down’ axis) while directions on the ‘up-down’ axis are more often specified by this absolute system. In Tongan, these two frames of reference are not only used in spatial descriptions but also for cognitive spatial orientation. However, this study does not demonstrate a more systematic correlation, i.e. the frame of reference which is predominantly used by a single speaker in the spatial description does not necessarily correspond with the cognitive spatial orientation of this speaker. Fifthly, possessive structures, such as the gift exchange processes, represent and renew social and societal hierarchies and networks. As is the case for most Polynesian languages, Tongan has two possessive categories, A- and O-possession. This distinction is based on an underlying semantic structure which is clearly revealed by the analysis of minimal pairs. While A-possession implies the possessor’s control over the possessee (‘simple control theory’) or the initiation of the possessive relationship (‘initial control theory’), O-possession is used elsewhere. As the concept of ‘control’ is closely related to ‘power, rank and status’, I have assumed that the choice of the possessive category in descriptions of kinship relations (and other personal relationships) is based on the hierarchical nature of the relationship between the two relatives (possessor and possessee). If the possessor is in a higher social or societal position than the possessee, they have more mana and control over the possessee and therefore A-possession is used. This consideration corresponds to ‘simple control theory’. However, some cases can be explained even better by ‘initial control theory’, and in a few cases both control theories fail to



Chapter 9.  Conclusions 

provide an explanation. These exceptions might only be explained by a shift of the possessive category especially due to the observation that other Polynesian languages behave differently; they use the possessive category in accordance with the control theories. Therefore single exceptions in Tongan do not disprove the whole theory. I still proceed from the assumption that cultural or cognitive structures based on the concept of ‘control’ determine the linguistic usage of the two possessive categories. Although the distinction between A- and O-possessed kinship relations is obviously only partly based on ‘simple control theory’ and thus the relative hierarchy, the system of A-and O-possession also reflects other social concepts. The mother, for instance, is considered as having control over the initiation of the relationship with her children in a way the father is not. Summarising, the way of dealing with, perceiving and expressing social structure, space and possession in Tonga demonstrates in various ways that language, cognition and culture influence each other. Firstly, language is a means or even a tool to express important cultural (and thus cognitive) concepts in a culturespecific way. Thereby a culture’s ‘world views’ are encoded in linguistic forms/ structures.3 However, it is difficult, if not impossible, to explain all linguistic particularities by underlying cultural concepts, as has been shown to a certain extent by the analysis of A-and O-possession in relation with certain kinship terms. Secondly, the use of specific linguistic forms also maintains and stabilises important cultural and cognitive structures and therefore even (re)constructs culture. Consequently, language use is a tool for negotiating cultural values. Based on these results it is important and necessary to specify and analyse ­linguistic structures in their cultural context or as Duranti (1997: 4) says to examine “language through the lenses of anthropological concern”. In this way both disciplines, linguistics and social anthropology, gain a wider knowledge and understanding of linguistic and cultural structures and connections between language and culture.

.  Ochs (1990: 291) who has conducted research on language socialisation in Samoa states that “the greatest part of sociocultural information is keyed implicitly, through language use”. Moreover, this ethnolinguistic study on Tonga has shown that sociocultural information is not only expressed by discourse structures but also by linguistic forms (e.g. kinship ­terminology).

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appendix 1

Question catalogue of the Niutouan inquiry (in English and Tongan) questions: 1.

What is your name? Ko hai ho hingoa?

2.

What is your surname? Ko e hā ho hingoa fakafāmili?

3.

Who gave you that name? ‘ Ko hai na‘a ne fakahingoa koe?

4.

After whom are you named? Ko hai ‘oku ke fakahingoa ki ai?

5.

How old are you? ‘Oku ke ta‘u fiha?

6.

Where do you come from? (land, island, village) Na‘a ke ha‘u mei fē? (fonua, motu, kolo)

7.

Where do you live? (your allotment) ‘Oku ke nofo ‘i fē? (ho ‘api)

8.

Where else have you lived? Na‘a ke toe nofo he feitu‘u fē?

9.

What is the furthest place you have ever been to? And why? Ko fē ‘a e feitu‘u mama‘o taha na‘a ke ‘alu ki ai? Pea ko e hā hono ‘uhinga?

10. With whom do you live in this allotment? ‘Oku ke nofo mo hai ‘i ‘api ni? 11. Who is the owner of this allotment? Ko hai ‘oku ne ha‘ana ‘a e ‘api ni?

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

12. Where did the owner get the allotment from? (inherited, from government, lease, ...) Na‘e ma‘u ‘a e tokotaha ha‘ana ‘o e ‘api mei fē? (tuku fakaholo, pule‘anga, lisi, …) 13. Are you married? What is his/her name? ‘Oku ke mali? Ko hai hono hingoa? 14. Who is the head of this family? Ko hai ‘a e ‘ulumotu‘a ‘o e fāmili ni? 15. How many children do you have? ‘Oku toko fiha ho‘o fānau? 16. Can you name your children from the oldest to the youngest? Te ke lava ‘o fakahingoa ho‘o fānau mei he lahi ki he si‘isi‘i? ( tamasi‘i,  ta‘ahine) 17. Are any of them adopted? If so, who and why? ‘Oku ‘i ai ha taha ‘oku pusiaki‘i? ‘O kapau ‘oku ‘i ai, ko hai pea ko e hā hono ‘uhinga? 18. Who will inherit this allotment? Ko hai te ne ma‘u ‘a e tuku fakaholo ‘o e ‘api ni? 19. Do you have any other relatives in Niutoua? (name and kin relation) ‘Oku ‘i ai ha‘o toe kāinga kehe ‘i Niutoua? (Ko hai hono hingoa? Ko e hā hoku fāmili?) 20. Do you also have a bush allotment? Where is it? What do you do there? ‘Oku ‘i ai ha‘o ‘api ‘uta? ‘Oku tu‘u ‘i fē? Ko e hā ho‘o me‘a ‘oku ke fai ‘i ai? 21. Do you work? If so, what is your job? ‘Oku ke ngāue? ‘O kapau ‘i ai, ko e hā ‘oku ke ngāue? 22. What do you do during a (normal) day from the morning to the evening? Ko e hā ho‘o me‘a ‘oku fai ‘i he lolotonga ‘o e aho mei he pongipongi ki he efiafi? 23. To which places do you go during a (normal) week, and for which reason? Ko fē ‘a e feitu‘u ‘oku ke ‘alu ki ai ‘i he lolotonga ‘o e uike pea ko e hā hono ‘uhinga? 24. Are there any places which are taboo for you? If so, which places, and why are they taboo? ‘Oku ‘i ai ha ngaahi feitu‘u ‘oku tapu‘i kiate koe? ‘O kapau ‘oku ‘io ko fē ‘a e ngaahi feitu‘u ko ia pea ko e hā hono ‘uhinga ‘oku tapu‘i ai?



Appendix 1. ����������������������������������������������� Question catalogue of the Niutouan inquiry 255

25. Are there any places which have a special meaning for you? If so, which places, and which meaning do they have for you? ‘Oku ‘i ai ha ngaahi feitu‘u ‘oku ‘i ai hono ‘uhinga mahu‘inga kiate koe? ‘O kapau ‘oku ‘io ko fē ‘a e ngaahi feitu‘u ko ia pea ko e hā hono ‘uhinga kiate koe? 26. What does it mean to be ‘rich’ or ‘poor’ in Tonga? Ko e hā hono ‘uhinga ‘a e hoko ‘a e tokotaha tongá ke masiva pē koloa ia? 27. Do you think you are rather rich or poor? ‘Oku ke pehē ‘oku ke masiva pē koloa ia? 28. What is the most valuable thing you have? Ko e hā ‘a e ngaahi me‘a mahu‘inga ‘oku ke ma‘u? 29. Do you know the ‘eiki- and tu‘i-language? (well, less well or not at all) ‘Oku ke ‘ilo ‘a e lea fakatu‘i mo lea fakahou‘eiki? (sai ‘aupito pe ‘ikai ke fu‘u sai pe ‘oku ‘ikai te ke ‘ilo) 30. Do you use these languages sometimes? If so, towards whom? ‘Oku ke ngāue‘aki ‘a e ngaahi lea ko‘eni? ‘O kapau ‘oku ‘io, kia hai nai? 31. Do you speak English? ‘Oku ke lea (‘a e lea) fakapālangi?

exercises: e.1. Please draw a picture of your house, [church, town hall] and add words like matafale ‘front’, tu‘afale ‘back’ and other helpful descriptive words to the drawing. Kātaki fakamolemole te ke lava ‘o taa‘i ha fakatata ‘i ho‘o fale pea tanaki ha ngaahi lea ‘o hangē ko e matafale, tu‘afale mo ha ngaahi lea fakamatala ki he fakatata. e.2. Please draw a map of Niutoua and name the important places. (Where is ‘front’ and where is ‘back’ of Niutoua?) Kātaki fakamolemole te ke lava ‘o taa‘i ha mape ‘o Niutoua pea fakahingoa ‘a e ngaahi feitu‘u mahu‘inga. (Ko fē ‘a e konga ki mu‘a ‘o Niutoua mo e konga ki mui?) e.3. [Non-linguistic experiment:] I will show you a card; please remember (the arrangement of the symbols on) this card, and then, show me the same card out of a group of different cards. Te u fakahā kiate koe ha kāti; kātaki fakamolemole ‘o manatu‘i ‘a e kāti ko ia ‘i ha falukunga kāti te u ‘oatu.

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

e.4. Can you please explain me how I get from Niutoua to Fua‘amotu? … from your allotment to the playground? … from Tongatapu to ‘Eueiki? Kātaki fakamolemole te ke lava ‘o fakamatala kiate au ‘a e hala mei Niutoua ki Fua‘amotu. … mei ho ‘api ki mala‘e vainga. … mei Tongatapu ki ‘Eueiki. Thanks a lot for your help! Mālō ‘aupito ho‘o tokoni!

appendix 2

Lists of A- and O-possessed semantic categories and single items in different Polynesian languages Language (author)

List of A-possessed categories and items

East Futunan (cf. Frimigacci et al. 1995: 33–42, 59–63)

food; domestic animals; other beverages; other material material possessions (like stick); possessions (like house); social kin (like child); actions roles and kin (like sister); events and states; body parts; spatial terms and locations kinship: kinship: tamā ‘father’, tinā ‘mother’, afafine fānau ‘offspring’, tama ‘son, ‘daughter (of father)’, atali‘i ‘son child (of mother)’, tama tama (of father)’, tama ‘son, child ‘son (of mother)’, tama teine ‘daughter (of mother)’, pepe ‘baby (of father)’, uso ‘same sex sibling’, tuafafine ‘sister of a man’, (of mother)’, āvā ‘wife’, tuagane ‘brother of a woman’, tāne ‘husband’ to‘alua ‘spouse’ kinship: kinship: tama ‘child’, aavaga ‘spouse’ tamana ‘father’, maatua ‘mother, parent’, taina ‘sibling of same gender’, tuagaane ‘sibling of opposite gender’, tupuna ‘grandparent’, mokopuna ‘grandchild’, maa ‘sibling-in-law of same gender’; kaaiga ‘family’ parts of the body and other parts items of property which can of wholes; lands, houses, gardens be bought and sold, or carried and canoes (all traditionally around; food; domestic inherited); personal items such as animals; personal relationships sleeping mats and clothing; certain into which one enters tools; most kinship relations; voluntarily, such as friends temporal, spatial, and and affines quantifying expressions; purely conceptual relationships

Samoan (cf. Mosel & Hovdhaugen 1992: 286)

Tuvaluan (cf. Besnier 2000: 322)

Tokelauan (cf. Hooper 2000: 299–300)

List of O-possessed categories and items

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Language (author)

List of A-possessed categories and items

List of O-possessed categories and items

Tokelauan (cf. Hooper 2000: 299–300)

kinship (most offspring): tama ‘child (of mother)’, ulumatua ‘oldest child’, fānau ‘offspring’; āvaga ‘spouse’

East Uvean (cf. Moyse-Faurie 2000: 320–322)

domestic animals; solid foods and cultivated plants; recently introduced beverages (except coffee and tea); and a variety of objects, particularly non-traditional objects, musical instruments, and cooking utensils

kinship (same and ascendant generations): uho and taina ‘sibling of the same sex’, tuafafine ‘sister of a male’, tuagane ‘brother of a female’, mātua ‘mother, parents’, tamana ‘father’, tuātina ‘mother’s brother’, mātua hā and mātua tauaitu ‘father’s sister’; but also: makupuna ‘grandchild’, ilāmutu ‘descendant of a man’s sister’, ataliki ‘son (of father)’, afafine ‘daughter (of father)’, tokalua ‘spouse’ relationship between a person and his body, his age, his personality, his secretions, his clothing, his adornments, some of his personal belongings (such as comb, house, boat); the earth, tree plantations, fishing grounds, privately owned springs, etc.; traditional beverages; time, space, activity kinship (members of the same generation, a few descendants, the paternal aunt, and the distant ancestor): finematu‘a ‘wife, old woman’, ‘ohoana ‘spouse’, foha ‘son (of father)’, ‘ofafine ‘daughter (of father)’, ‘alo ‘honorific: son’, mahikitaga ‘paternal aunt’, tupu‘aga ‘ancestor’, ‘ilāmutu ‘child of father’s sister’, mokopuna ‘grandchild’, mokoliha ‘greatgrandchild’, tuaga‘ane ‘brother of a woman’, tokolua ‘sister of a man’, tehina ‘same sex sibling’, mā‘a ‘sister/ brother-in-law’, kaume‘a ‘friend’, pule and ‘aliki ‘chief ’, tu‘i and hau ‘king’, fili ‘enemy’

kinship (mainly parents and grandparents, the maternal uncle, the uncle’s children for a woman, and children): kui ‘grandparent’, tamai ‘father’, fa‘ē ‘mother’, fa‘ētagata ‘maternal aunt’, tama ‘son (of mother)’, ta‘ahine ‘daughter (of mother)’, fānau ‘child’, tamasi‘i ‘young child’, tamaliki ‘young children’, fakafotu ‘child of mother’s brother’, fafine ‘fiancée’, tagata ‘fiancé’



Appendix 2.  Lists of A- and O-possessed semantic categories and single items 259

Language (author)

List of A-possessed categories and items

List of O-possessed categories and items

Maori (cf. Harlow 2000: 363–364)

small portable possessions; subject of nominalisations of transitive verbs, including derived nominals; all consumables (except fresh water and medicine); animals not used for conveyance

large objects, including means of conveyance, including animals (like horses); subject of nominalisations of intransitive, neuter and experience verbs; subject of nominalisations of passive transitive verbs; parts of whole, including parts of the body and, by extension, clothing kinship (all other kin, and friends)

Maori (cf. Thornton 1998: 389) Pileni (cf. Næss 2000: 309) Hawaiian (cf. Cook 2000: 346) Hawaiian (cf. Elbert & Pukui 1979: 137–138)

kinship (kin of lower generation than EGO, and spouses) kinship (offspring: children and grandchildren, such as tamaiti ‘child of mother’) items that may be bought and sold or acquired and given away at will kinship (offspring or descendant, relationships which one has chosen, such as keiki ‘child’, wahine ‘wife’) kinship – acquired (ego’s affinal generation and all later generations); chief – if the antecedent has initiated the relationship: keiki ‘child’, kaikamahine ‘daughter’, kāne ‘husband’, wahine ‘wife’

work, tools, food, Rapanui craft products (cf. Mulloy & Rapu 1977: 12–13; 19)

kinship (parents and grandparents, such as whaea ‘mother’) family relations; inherited possessions; body parts; inherent physical or mental qualities kinship (parents, grandparents, and siblings, such as kupuna ‘grandparent’) kinship – inherited (ego’s consanguineal generation and all earlier generations); gods, chief – if the antecedent did not initiate the relationship: kupuna ‘grandparent’, makua kāne ‘father’, kaikua‘ana ‘older same-sex sibling’, kaikaina ‘younger samesex sibling’, kaikuahine ‘sister of a man’, kaikunāne ‘brother of a woman’ land and products of group activity (such as houses and canoes); one’s own body and its parts, clothing and other objects coming in contact with the body (such as bed and seat); things which are embodiments of one’s mana (such as dreams, names, portraits, shadows, reflections)

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

Language (author)

Rapanui (cf. Fischer 2000: 339–340)

List of A-possessed categories and items

List of O-possessed categories and items

kinship (social inferiors, members of younger generations or junior lineages, i.e. persons of less mana): ta‘aku vi‘e ‘wife’, ta‘aku kenu ‘husband’, poki ‘child’

kinship (persons of higher or equivalent rank or status): tupuna ‘grandparent’, makupuna ‘grandchild’, taina ‘sibling, cousin’, repahoa ‘(male) friend’, hungavai ‘father/mother-in-law’, hunonga ‘son/daughter-in-law’, ta‘okete ‘brother/sister-in-law’, papatio ‘uncle’, sobrina ‘niece’, papá ‘father’, matu‘a poreko ‘mother, birth-parent’ large objects (house, furniture), including means of transport; subject of nominalisations of intransitive, neuter and experience verbs; parts of whole, including parts of the body and, by extension, clothing; native land, feelings and mind

portable possessions (such as money, gadgets, tools, households appliances, books), as well as work and illnesses; subject of nominalisations of transitive verbs and derived nominals; comestibles, including food, but not medicine or fresh water; all beasts but those of burden kinship (spouses and kin of lower generation than speaker)

kinship (all kin not covered by A, as well as friends)

appendix 3

List of A- and O-possessed semantic categories and single concrete nouns in Tongan according to Churchward (cf. 1953: 81–87) A/O

Semantic categories

Examples

A

goods, money, tools, utensils, instruments, weapons, vehicles, etc. and gardens, which I own or use;

toki ‘axe’, huo ‘spade’, kupenga koloa ‘goods’, pa‘anga ‘fishing-net’, tao ‘spear’, pā ‘money’, hele ‘knife’, ‘shield’ kumete ‘kava bowl’, nafa ‘drum’, me‘afana ‘gun’, sāliote ‘cart’, koa ‘soap’, ngoue ‘garden’, ma‘ala ‘yam plantation’ hoosi ‘horse’, fanga puaka ‘pigs’, fanga moa ‘fowls’ me‘akai ‘food’, ‘ufi ‘yam’, ‘oho ‘provisions’, inu hu‘akau ‘milk’, vai ‘drinking water’, tī ‘tea’, kofi ‘medicine’, tapaka ‘tobacco’ ‘coffee’, koko ‘cocoa’ ‘eku kavenga ‘my burden’, ‘eku tu‘unga-lea ‘my subject or topic’ tamaio‘eiki ‘male servant’, kaunanga ‘female servant’, talafekau ‘messenger’, tōketā ‘doctor’, kau ako ‘pupils’, kau ‘a‘ahi ‘visitors’, kau ului ‘converts’, also nouns beginning with fai and denoting persons engaged in various occupations: e.g. faiako ‘schoolteacher’, faifekau ‘religious minister’, faikosi ‘barber’, faimakoni ‘wireless operator’, fai‘uhila ‘electrician’

animals or birds which I own or use; things which I eat, drink, or smoke; things which I originate, make, mend, carry, or otherwise deal with; persons in my employ, under my control, or in my care.

Exceptions

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

A/O

Semantic categories

Examples

O

things which constitute me or characterise me (permanently or temporarily), that is things which are parts of me or which are so closely connected with me that they almost seem to be parts of me;

sino ‘body’, loto ‘mind’, ‘ulu ‘head’, ma‘ama‘a ‘lungs’, toto ‘blood’, hui ‘bone’, and all other names of bodily parts; kotoa ‘whole’, konga ‘part’, funga ‘top’, ‘ato ‘roof ’, takele ‘bottom’, faliki ‘floor’, tafa‘aki ‘side’, holisi ‘wall’, va‘a ‘branch’, fanā ‘mast’, and other nouns denoting parts of things; kamata‘anga ‘beginning’, ngata‘anga ‘ending, termination’; anga ‘habit, custom, nature’, ivi ‘power, ability’, ‘atamai ‘intelligence’, ta‘u/motu‘a/ ta‘umotu‘a ‘age’, fōtunga ‘appearance’, le‘o ‘voice, sound’, nanamu ‘smell, odour’, ifo ‘taste, flavour’, lanu ‘colour’, ‘ila ‘spot, stain’, mele ‘blemish’, fo‘ui ‘fault’, mahaki ‘disease, sickness’, lavea ‘wound, injury’; ‘ao ‘front of person, presence’, lotolotonga ‘midst’, vaha‘a ‘space between’; vala ‘loin-cloth’, kofu ‘dress, clothes’, tatā ‘hat’, lelu ‘armlet’, mama ‘ring’, and other nouns denoting wearing apparel and personal ornaments, helu ‘comb’, ī ‘fan’, fue ‘fly-whisk’, tokotoko ‘walking-stick’, fakamalu ‘umbrella’, holoholo ‘handkerchief ’, sāvieti ‘serviette’, taueli/tauveli ‘towel’; fua ‘fruit, result’, ō ‘outcome, natural consequence’, nunu‘a ‘natural retribution, nemesis’, ouau ‘appurtenance, ordinance, affair, implication’

Exceptions



Appendix 3.  List of A- and O-possessed semantic categories and single concrete nouns 

A/O

Semantic categories

O

persons or things which, in one sense or another, represent me;

Examples

Exceptions

fakafofonga ‘representative’, fetongi ‘substitute or successor’, hingoa ‘name’, ‘uhinga ‘meaning’, faka‘ilonga ‘symbol, sign’, malu/malumalu ‘shadow, shade’, ‘ata ‘shadow, reflection, picture’, tā/ fakatātā ‘picture, portrait’, tatau ‘copy, duplicate’, ongoongo ‘news, report’, totongi ‘price, cost’, fakamanatu ‘memorial’ kui ‘grandparent’, motu‘a kāinga ‘relative’, tokoua my relatives, friends, ‘parent’, tamai ‘father’, fa‘ē ‘brother or sister’, foha associates, or enemies ‘mother’, tama ‘woman’s ‘man’s son’, ‘ (naturally those persons son’, tamasi‘i ‘child’, fānau ofefine ‘man’s daughter’, help to determine what ‘children’, fahu ‘man’s sister’s mokopuna ‘grandchild’, I am, what I do, or how ‘ilamutu ‘nephew or niece’, son’, tangata ‘man, in the I fare); mali ‘husband or wife’, hoa sense of son’, fefine ‘woman, girl’, ta‘ahine ‘woman, ‘mate, also husband girl, in the sense of daughter’ or wife’, takaua ‘companion, colleague’, kaume‘a ‘friend’, kaungāngāue ‘fellow worker’, fili ‘enemy’ things which are provided tofi‘a ‘inheritance’, ‘inasi ‘share, allotted portion’, for me or which devolve upon me or fall to my lot; fatongia ‘duty, obligation’, nafa/ngafa ‘duty, task’, vaha‘angatae ‘duty, share of work’, ngāue‘anga ‘sphere of work’, tu‘unga ‘position, rank, status’, lakanga ‘office, function’, mafai ‘authority, right, legal power’, kolosi ‘cross (on which one suffers)’; taimi ‘time’, kuonga ‘era, period’, faingamālie ‘opportunity’, kuohili ‘past’, kaha‘u ‘future’

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language

A/O

Semantic categories

Examples

Exceptions

O

in general, persons or things which surround, support, control, or affect me, or on which I depend.

faiako ‘schoolteacher’, tōketā sea ‘chair, seat, form’, ‘doctor’, faifekau ‘religious nofo‘a ‘saddle’, mohenga ‘bed’, fakamolū ‘mattress’, minister’, taula‘eiki ‘priest, and other nouns denoting when the reference is not to Christ’ parts of one’s bed and its appurtenances, such as tainamu ‘mosquito-net’; kolo ‘village, town’, fonua ‘land, country’, kelekele ‘land, soil’, ‘api ‘allotment of land, home’, fale ‘house’, fale lotu ‘church building’, loki ‘room, apartment’, pununga ‘nest’, tafu ‘burrow’, vaka ‘boat, ship’, pōpao ‘canoe’, hala ‘path, road’; vai ‘well or underground tank’, sima/vai sima ‘cement tank’; loto‘ā ‘enclosure’, nofo‘anga ‘dwelling-place’, mālōlō´anga ‘resting-place’, tupu‘anga ‘origin’, falala‘anga ‘thing or person on which one leans or relies’, mālohi‘anga ‘source of strength’, pule‘anga ‘government’, Siasi ‘church organisation’; ‘eiki ‘chief, lord’, ‘Otua ‘God’, tu‘i ‘king or queen’, kuini ‘queen’, kōvana ‘governor’, palesiteni ‘president’, taki ‘leader’, tauhi ‘keeper, guardian’, le‘o ‘watchman, sentry’, fakamo‘ui ‘rescuer, saviour’, lavaki ‘betrayer’



Appendix 3.  List of A- and O-possessed semantic categories and single concrete nouns 

Lexical items which can be A- as well as O-possessed A

O

‘ene lao ‘the law which he makes’ ‘ene kaveinga ‘his aim’ ‘eku katoanga ‘the festival provided by me’ ‘eku pale ‘the prize awarded by me ‘eku fala ‘the mat which I make’ ‘eku sote ‘the shirt which I make or mend’ ‘ene talanoa ‘the story which he tells’ ‘ene ongoongo ‘the news which he tells’ ‘ene fakamatala ‘the explanation which he gives’ ‘eku tu‘i ‘the king whom I appoint; my being king’ ‘eku mahaki ‘my patient’ ‘ene mīsini ‘his machine or engine’ ‘ene kī ‘his key’ ‘ene laumālie ‘his life’ (honorific for: ‘ene mo‘ui) ‘ene ‘eiki ‘his father’ (honorific for: ‘ene tamai) ‘ene koloa ‘his wealth, his goods’ ‘ene hala ‘his error’ ‘ene kava ‘his kava’ ‘eku kili ‘my saw’ ‘eku ngāue ‘my work’ ‘eku tēpile ‘my table’ ‘eku telefoni ‘my telephone’ ‘eku taipaleti ‘my typewriter’ ‘eku peni ´utu ‘my fountain pen’ ‘eku ‘ū tohi ‘my books’ ‘eku kava ‘my kava plants or plantation’; ‘eku kava ‘a cup of kava which I drink’; ‘eku ma‘u kava kiate koe ‘my having kava for you’

hono lao ‘the law by which he is governed hono kaveinga ‘its aim, our aim regarding it’ hoku katoanga ‘the festival given in my honour’ hoku pale ‘the prize awarded to me’ hoku fala ‘the mat on which I sit or lie’ hoku sote ‘the shirt which I wear’ hono talanoa ‘the story told about him or it’ hono ongoongo ‘the news told about him or it’ hono fakamatala ‘the explanation given about it’ hoku tu‘i ‘the king whose subject I am’ hoku mahaki ‘my disease’ hono mīsini ‘its machine or engine’ hono kī ‘its key, the key which fits it’ hono laumālie ‘his soul’ hono ‘eiki ‘his chief ’ hono koloa ‘his teeth’ (honorific for hono nifo) hono hala ‘his path’ hono kava ‘his beard’ hoku kili ‘my skin’ hoku fatongia ‘my duty’ hoku sea ‘my chair’ hoku ‘ofisi ‘my office’

hoku kava ‘a stick of kava which is presented to me’

Glossary of Tongan terms anga fakatonga angaikava fa fahu faifekau faitoka fakaafe fakafotu fakaleitī fakapikopiko fakataputapu faka‘apa‘apa fala fale (mohe) fale ako fale kautaha fale koloa fale lotu fāmili fānau fasi fatongia fau fa‘ahinga fa‘ē fa‘ē tangata feta‘aki fetokoni‘aki fingota foha fono hahake hala ha‘a helepelu/helelahi hiapo hou‘eiki huo kafa kāinga kakai

Tongan way of behaving kava assistant pandanus ‘above the law’, ‘eiki position of mehekitanga or her children church minister/priest cemetery feast child of tuonga‘ane men who behave ‘like women’ lazy speech preludes respect (fine) mat (sleeping) house school (building) village hall/community house shop church (building) kin group acting together as local group children special sections of the kava circle duty, obligation hibiscus formerly: extended families living on the land of the same title holder mother, mother’s sister ‘male mother’, synonym for tu‘asina semi-manufactured product in the production of tapa mutual assistance and support shellfish and seaweed a male’s son village meeting east, eastern district street, road, path group of genealogically related titles machete, bush knife paper mulberry (traditional) chiefs hoe, spade rope to fix the mat around the waist bilateral consanguineal kin group, extended family people, (commoners)

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language kautaha kau tu‘a kava kelefatu kiekie kie Tonga kitetama koka‘anga koloa kui kumala kumete lālanga langi liku liongi lōtaha lou‘akau mala‘e vainga mali mana manioke matapā matāpule mātu‘a matu‘a tauhi fonua mehekitanga me‘a kai me‘a ‘ofa misinale moa mokopuna mo‘unga mu‘a ngahikava ngatu, fuatanga ngāue ngeesi taha niu nōpele ofisa fakavahe ofisa kolo pae pālangi papa pola

working group commoners, people of lower rank traditional intoxicating drink made of the kava plant clay loams like a belt with downward hanging strands fine mat cross cousin marriage painting tapa (female) wealth items grandparents sweet potato kava bowl weaving sky cliff-bound coast tu‘a relatives at funerals floor mat pandanus tree village (play)ground husband/wife, wedding spiritual/supernatural power tapioca, manioc door chief attendant parents ‘old men who look after the land’, traditionally a person with chiefly title but without aristocratic descent father’s sister food gift annual Methodist church donation chicken grandchildren mountain front, formerly: one who will inherit a matāpule title kava mixer different kind of tapa work half-chief coconut noble, officially appointed chief of the modern society district officer town officer usually a piece of tapa as gift for a child white person, European floor mat woven coconut palm leaves

polopolo popao pōpula puaka putu setuata sino ‘i ‘eiki tahi talo tama tamai tapa tapu ta‘okete ta‘ovala tehina tofia tokoua toua tou‘one tuitui tuofefine tuonga‘ane tutu tu‘a tu‘asina tu‘i vete ‘alofi ‘api ‘api kolo ‘api tukuhau/‘uta ‘eiki ‘ika ‘ilamutu ‘inasi ‘ofa (māfana) ‘ofefine ‘ufi ‘uike lotu ‘ulumotu‘a ‘uta

Glossary of Tongan terms  first fruits outrigger canoe slaves, war prisoners pig funeral steward, representative of the church minister/priest ‘chiefly in blood’, traditionally a person with aristocratic descent but not holding a title sea taro (a female’s) child father, father’s brother barkcloth sacred, forbidden/taboo older same-sex sibling/cousin mat worn around the waist younger same-sex sibling/cousin hereditary estates same-sex sibling/cousin section outside the kava circle (behind the kava bowl) sandy soil candlenut sister, female cousin of a male brother, male cousin of a female semi-manufactured product in the production of tapa lower ranked, inferior in status mother’s brother paramount chief, sovereign small fish (orfe) ceremonial kava circle household, allotment town/village allotment tax/bush allotment higher ranked, superior in status, chiefly person fish child of tuofefine ancient first fruit ceremony (warm) love, generosity a male’s daughter yam week of prayer/worship head of fāmili bush, inland

Index

A Alienable/inalienable  see “A-/O-possession” B Benefactive markers  158, 164 Birth  14, 27, 35, 39f, 43, 48, 87f, 99, 177, 180, 187f, 191, 210, 214f, 220f C Chief  5, 13f, 19, 23, 27ff, 34, 43–47, 48–54, 56ff, 62, 65, 67, 69–74, 76f, 82f, 85f, 88ff, 94, 97f, 101, 126, 148ff, 158, 166, 168, 180, 183, 189ff, 195, 199–209, 217ff, 222–237, 239, 241; see also “hou‘eiki”, “nōpele” and “Tāmale” Chiefly titles  13f, 19, 28, 43–51, 52–60, 65, 69ff, 77, 89f, 97f, 148ff Control  2, 24, 39, 58, 77, 103, 118 Control theories  165, 167–170, 171, 173, 175f, 176–194, 221, 242f D Death  14, 19, 29, 35, 37, 39f, 44, 48, 51, 62, 85, 91, 94, 181, 185, 188, 203, 212, 216, 220, 222, 224, 226; see also “Funeral (putu)” F Fiji/Fijian  7f, 14, 21, 40, 55, 156f, 199, 219 Funeral (putu)  19, 28, 36, 40f, 51, 56, 69, 73ff, 82, 83ff, 87, 89, 93, 98f, 102, 212, 216, 220 Futuna/Futunan  21, 199f, 218f, 257

G Gift exchange  1f, 25, 38, 41, 72, 77f, 82f, 85–95, 97ff, 237, 241f H Hawaii/Hawaiian  8, 21, 30, 82, 168, 182, 187, 199, 240, 259 ha‘a  28, 43f, 49–51, 52f, 55, 70, 89f, 98f, 234, 241 Honorifics  1f, 5f, 23, 52, 54, 69, 86, 98f, 103, 183, 195–237, 239ff Household  5, 15, 17, 20, 28–30, 31, 35, 39, 57, 64–65, 78, 81f, 87, 91ff, 180, 221 hou‘eiki  19, 43, 47, 48, 53, 75, 183, 190f, 200–206, 208–217, 219f, 223–237, 239ff I Inheritance  5f, 14, 19, 42, 44–50, 55ff, 58, 62–63, 64f, 67, 70, 72, 77, 89, 99, 152, 176, 180f, 187, 191, 222 K kāinga  13, 28–30, 31, 34ff, 41ff, 46, 54ff, 72, 85f, 87ff, 91, 94, 98f, 183ff, 234, 239f Political kāinga  28, 46, 50, 57f, 62, 65, 90 kakai  183, 191, 200–219, 223f, 226ff, 232ff, 237, 239f kava  18, 69, 79f, 90, 97f, 102, 147, 210f, 214, 220, 227, 235, 237, 241 kava circle  19f, 38, 48, 50f, 57, 68, 69–74, 75, 89f, 101, 150, 210, 241 King  see “tu‘i (king/sovereign)”

Kinship  2, 13, 27–43, 45f, 49f, 54ff, 72, 88f, 103, 155ff, 168, 182–194, 220f, 230, 235, 239, 242f; see also “kāinga”, “mehekitanga” and “Status” Kinship terminology  2, 28, 30–34, 41ff, 54, 97ff, 155, 157, 165, 176, 182–194, 220f, 239f, 243 koloa (traditional wealth items)  2, 12, 25, 78ff, 82–85, 86ff, 92ff, 98f, 102, 212, 218; see also “Tapa” and “Mats” L Land  1f, 6–19, 28ff, 46f, 49, 57–68, 77ff, 89ff, 97ff, 177, 181f, 191 Landscape  2, 6–13, 15ff, 57, 66–67, 79ff, 112f, 124ff, 129–147, 151ff, 180f, 220f, 242 Language of respect  see “Honorifics” M mana (spiritual power)  13, 39, 44, 52, 57, 88, 90f, 97, 176, 186, 190f, 194, 221–223, 224f, 237, 239ff; see also “tapu” Maori  21, 166ff, 186f, 192, 259 Marquesas/Marquesan  8, 21, 112f, 143, 199 Marriage  see “Wedding” Cross cousin marriage  36, 38f, 54f, 88f matāpule  19, 47–49, 53f, 58ff, 70ff, 76, 91, 101, 152, 183, 191, 208ff, 223, 225 Mats  4, 18, 29, 62, 74, 79, 82–85, 87f, 90f, 102

 Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language mehekitanga (father’s sister)  13, 29, 31–37, 39–43, 55f, 69, 72, 74, 86–89, 183ff, 188f, 192f, 222, 226, 231, 239

P Possession  1–6, 24f, 62, 77–95, 97ff, 103, 121, 155–194, 201, 219ff, 224, 237, 241ff A-/O-possession  2f, 24, 103, 121f, 155–157, 158, 160f, 163f, 164–194, 221, 239, 242f, 257–265 Possessive markers  43, 122, 155ff, 158–164, 170f

S Samoa/Samoan  7f, 14, 21, 112f, 157, 166, 187f, 192, 195, 199ff, 204, 207, 218f, 222, 226, 230, 236, 241, 243, 257 Seating/sitting order  1f, 50, 57, 68–76, 86, 89, 97ff, 147–153, 212, 220, 237, 239, 241f Social hierarchy  see “Status” Societal hierarchy  see “Rank” Space  1ff, 25, 57, 68–76, 97ff, 103, 105–153, 239, 241, 243 Social space  see “Seating/ sitting order” Spatial frames of reference  2, 23f, 105–113, 119ff, 124–153, 242 Spatial markers  22f, 105, 112, 113–124, 130–139, 148ff Speech preludes  2, 50, 51–54, 68f, 72f, 97ff, 237, 239ff Status  2, 13, 27f, 34–43, 54ff, 72ff, 84–89, 97ff, 147f, 155, 183ff, 188, 190f, 193f, 222f, 231, 234, 239ff; see also “tu‘a/‘eiki dichotomy” Succession  see “Inheritance”

R Rank  2, 6, 13f, 19, 27, 34, 39, 43–51, 52–62, 68–75, 84ff, 89ff, 93, 97ff, 131, 147–153, 155, 186f, 190f, 195ff, 200–237, 239ff Rapanui/Easter Island  7f, 21, 167, 186f, 259f

T Tāmale  19–20, 29, 47, 50f, 53, 58, 67, 73ff, 82, 90f, 98, 101, 125f, 150, 225ff, 229ff Tapa  4, 18, 29, 62, 74f, 79, 82–85, 87f, 90f, 102, 178

N Niue/Niuean  7f, 21, 68, 157, 193, 199 Niutoua  1, 4ff, 10f, 15–20, 25, 29f, 40, 47, 50f, 53f, 58, 62–68, 73ff, 79, 82–85, 87, 90f, 94f, 98, 101, 103, 106, 124–147, 149ff, 224f, 227, 229ff, 242, 253ff nōpele  19, 46–47, 48f, 51, 52f, 55, 58–62, 65, 70ff, 75, 77, 86f, 90, 98f, 183, 190f, 200, 206, 224f, 228ff, 232, 234; see also “Chiefly titles”

tapu  4, 13, 36, 39f, 51f, 72, 74f, 82, 87, 89f, 98f, 151, 176, 186, 109f, 198, 221–223, 224, 231, 233, 237, 239ff Brother-sister tapu  36, 37–39, 79 Tokelau/Tokelauan  8, 21, 118, 160, 166, 187, 257f Tuvalu/Tuvaluan  8, 21, 192, 199, 257 tu‘a/‘eiki dichotomy  34–37, 40ff, 49, 55f, 74f, 84, 88f, 98, 102, 152, 183ff, 188, 194, 205ff, 231, 239f tu‘i (king/sovereign)  6, 14, 23, 30, 43–46, 47ff, 51ff, 57f, 61f, 65, 67, 69–75, 77, 85f, 89ff, 97ff, 149, 152, 183, 190f, 195, 200–217, 219f, 222–225, 226, 228f, 232–234, 235ff, 239ff Tu‘i Tonga  13–14, 15, 44–46, 49–51, 52, 54–55, 57, 69, 73, 78, 89ff, 97, 131, 205f, 209f, 218, 222ff U Uvea/Uvean  21, 187, 192, 199f, 218f, 258 W Wedding  19, 28f, 31, 35f, 38ff, 45f, 51, 54ff, 62ff, 69, 71–76, 83f, 87ff, 93, 98f, 102, 180, 185, 187, 211f, 219ff, 227 ‘ ‘ulumotu‘a  28–29, 39, 57f, 65, 97, 183, 191

In the series Culture and Language Use (CLU) the following titles have been published thus far or are scheduled for publication: 3 2 1

Givón, T.: Ute Reference Grammar. xxi, 429 pp. + index. Expected January 2011 Völkel, Svenja: Social Structure, Space and Possession in Tongan Culture and Language. An ethnolinguistic study. 2010. xv, 272 pp. Flores Farfán, José Antonio and Fernando F. Ramallo (eds.): New Perspectives on Endangered Languages. Bridging gaps between sociolinguistics, documentation and language revitalization. 2010. v, 156 pp.