Out of the Stone Age

The birthday of the world's latest self-governing nation was a subdued, almost furtive occasion. Joy was restrained, to say the least, and so were the celebrations. Pubs and clubs in all of Papua New Guinea were closed not only on Dec. 1, the first day of self-rule, but also on the days preceding and following the historic event. The passage of power was officially marked only by a brief ceremony in the capital of Port Moresby, where the Australian administrator changed his title to high commissioner, the equivalent of ambassador.

"We wanted to play it cool," explained the nation's new leader Chief Minister Michael Somare, 37, a former teacher and journalist. "Some people thought that self-government meant they could take over plantations and other things. We did not want to encourage such thoughts by overexcitement or too much celebration."

Somare's caution was understandable Papua New Guinea has a fair claim to being the world's most backward nation. Its 2,600,000 people, spread over an area somewhat larger than California, are divided into 702 tribes and speak perhaps as many languages. In the past year there were at least 20 known battles between tribes fighting with spears, clubs, bows and arrows in disputes over land, pigs and women, in approximately that order. A lingering appetite for cannibalism is suspected in the remote interior where Stone Age conditions prevail Witch doctors still thrive and sorcery is practiced. The cargo cults, a weird blend of religious faith and economic frustration, claim 60,000 members. They believe that they can acquire such desirable Western luxuries as radios and canned beer by practicing certain rites like assembling on mountaintops, where they construct mock airplanes and await the gifts from heaven.

In short, for most citizens of Papua New Guinea, the concept of self-rule is either meaningless or misunderstood. When one tribesman heard that the gift of self-government was to be bestowed upon the people, he sought out his representative in Parliament and asked for three--one for himself, one for his wife and one for his son.

Alien Notions. Full independence for Papua New Guinea, scheduled for some time around the end of next year, is even more difficult to grasp; it involves such alien notions as defense and foreign affairs, which are now administered by Australia. But the Australians clearly are eager to shed their responsibilities as soon as possible. They inherited Papua from Britain in 1906 and took New Guinea from Germany in World War I, administering it in recent years as a U.N. trustee. Together, the two territories constitute the eastern half of the world's second largest island (after Greenland); the rest is the Indonesian province of Irian Jaya.

The first real move toward independence came in March 1972 when 1.5 million eligible voters, mainly illiterate, chose among 611 candidates for the 100 seats of the House of Assembly. A coalition formed by Somare's party, the Pangu Pad (pidgin for the Papua New Guinea Party) won control with 59 seats, drawing its main strength from the people of the coastal cities, whose education and contact with the outside world had enabled them to lead an independence movement. But the more primitive highlanders in the interior fear exploitation by their coastal brethren and distrust self-government.

Another problem is that many of the island's 43,000 foreign residents--principally Australians and Chinese traders. whose skills are needed--have been leaving in increasing numbers. They fear the kind of bloody anarchy that swept the Congo after it gained independence in 1960. Among the portents: a rising rate of urban crime, squatter slums and the occasional stoning of whites. There have been reports that some tribesmen are already picking out white-owned houses and autos they expect to get when total independence comes.

Chief Minister Somare also must deal with budding separatism on a larger scale. Papuans, for instance, charge that Australian aid--$760 million over the past five years--has gone mostly to New Guinea. Tempers grew so hot over this issue recently that a two-day riot broke out at the annual Papua v. New Guinea soccer match. On the island of Bougainville, which is part of the new nation, there is a growing feeling that the islanders should get a greater share of the $150 million in profits expected this year from an immense Australian-operated copper mine.

Yet there are grounds for optimism. Australian High Commissioner Leslie W. Johnson points out that because of its fractionalization, no single tribe dominates even one region. The new nation has a good Australian-trained police and an army recruited from all over the country. Already an exporter of copper and gold, the country is rich in other minerals and may even have oil. Japanese businessmen are busily exploring the rich potentialities of this territory --some 30 years after the imperial army lost 150,000 lives in a futile attempt to seize it by force.

Somare bristles at the suggestion that Papua New Guinea may not be ready for independence. "We are civilized in our own way," he says tersely. "We are a people with our own pride and culture. Are we primitive because our women don't cover their breasts and our men don't wear trousers? This is our way. This is our society."

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