Overview
This is a hand-held stamp with a wooden handle. Adhered to the block head of the stamp is a rubber plaque in circular relief with the following text: ‘MALO KAISALIKA, APIA SAMOA 100 MARK’. In the middle is an image of the German imperial coat of arms. A tiny object – measuring 90mm (Height) x 55mm (Width) x 52mm (Depth) – made of wood and rubber turns out to be a remarkable witness of, and actor in, thrilling dramas on worldly stages.
Malo Kaisalika
In 1905, five years of after Germany become the ruler of Samoa through the hissing of the imperial flag, governor Solf’s nominated advisory board of Samoans came to be called Malo Kaisalika, or imperial government, building on the Samoan word malo which initially meant dominant party or faction victorious in war but in the later 19th century signified the Samoan governing council of chiefs. Facing the persistent influence of these chiefly structures, Solf announced on August, 14, 1905:
There is only one government in Samoa, and that is the Government of His Majesty Wilhelm II, which is styled the ‘Malo Kaisailika’.
Solf’s declaration reverberates in an absolutist tone, seemingly prescribing a doctrine which leaves ‘no room’ for alternative Samoan forms of governance. The term ‘Malo Kaisalika’ indicates, however, that the colonial government used Samoan terms and coined Samoan neologisms, or new terms, to name new institutions, thus inevitably lending the colonial doctrine a distinctively Samoan note. What role did the stamp thereby play?
Systems of value
Woven mats occupied, and continue to occupy, a central position in Samoan life. The 'ie toga, (fine mats) were distributed within the context of weddings, formal apologies and fines, and were used as currency to pay, for example, for houses or canoes. The Germans struggled to distinguish, on the one hand, between fine or heirloom mats – ‘ie toga and ‘ie o le malo – and common mats (lagaga), and, on the other, between the monetary values assigned to them. As a consequence, the colonial government set up an office staffed by Germans and Samoans to determine the precise value of each mat and mark it with the above stamp. This intervention aimed at turning ambiguous Samoan customs into manageable procedures defined according to the value system of capitalist commerce and trade, while preventing Samoans from mixing monetary and sacred systems of value in ways which were incomprehensible to Germans.
This particular form of colonial rule geared towards preserving and regulating customary practices – rather than prohibiting these as done in the case of fine mats under New Zealand occupation – can also be witnessed during the crowing of Mata’afa as ali’i sili, or paramount chief, on June 8, 1901. This ceremony involved, according to Samoan custom, the distribution of fine mats – in this case more than 2000 – while at the same time, according to German claims to colonial dominance, being administratively overseen by Solf to ‘smooth over difficulties’ among the competing Samoan chiefly districts, and symbolically overshadowed by the most paramount chief of all, the German emperor.
A governmental tool
The stamp thus operated as a governmental tool but it could only properly function if it was handled with a particular expertise, or ethnographic mode, to make sense of cultural differences. Not surprisingly, then, we can observe how Samoan mats did not only feature in political events and economic transactions but in in the evolving science of ethnography. A particular fascinating example begins with a detailed article published by Henniger on April 13, 1912, in the Samoanische Zeitung (SZ) ‘im Interesse der ethnographischen Wissenschaft…feiner Matten’ (in the interest of the ethnographic study of…fine mats).
Following this article, a debate on whether fine mats should be encouraged or banned evolved in the SZ between Henniger, von Bülow and ‘Spectator’. In one response, the latter praises the unique acquaintance with Samoan custom of von Bülow (and Schultz, Solf’s successor as Governor), while questioning his claim that ‘mat celebration, and the belief in the supernatural, hinder the civilization of the natives’. The debate in general and this statement in particular highlight how ethnographic perspectives merged with political opinions. Moreover, ethnographic visions and their increasingly scientific framing shaped colonial governmentality.
Henniger, apart from being an ethnographic author, was also involved in the valuation of mats, which brings us back to the stamp. And both governors, Solf and Schultz, referred to and applied ethnographic knowledge – the latter even publishing himself – which brings us back to the larger relationship between Samoan customs, colonial governance and ethnographic science that the stamp not only symbolizes but assisted in enacting.
Philipp Schorch (2016)