Charles Montgomery, The Shark God

Charles Montgomery is a Canadian journalist whose great-grandfather was a pioneering Anglican missionary in the Solomon Islands. In 2002, with some money saved and no pressing obligations, he followed his ancestor's path to the South Seas. A secular unbeliever, he saw himself as a sort of reverse missionary, interested in helping the islanders preserve their traditional culture. When he got back he wrote a book, The Shark God: : Encounters with Ghosts and Ancestors in the South Pacific (2004). The Shark God is at times hard to read, because the writing is choppy and Montgomery sometimes presents himself as a jerk, but it left a very strong impression on my mind.

The Solomon Islands have not had an easy time since independence in 1978. There has been little economic development, and in 2000 to 2002 the sporadic violence of tribal society erupted into something like a civil war. Montgomery ends up writing mostly about the role of religion, both Christian and native, in the islands' troubles. This is a fascinating exploration, and I found it well worth following Montgomery's adventures to see his growing insight into the situation.

When he arrives in the islands, Montgomery is greeted by missionaries. He runs into missionaries everywhere -- Anglicans, Seventh Day Adventists, Pentacostals, Catholics, and more. He wonders why, since the islands have been Christian for a century, and every missionary he meets talks up the great success of Christianity. He soon learns, though, that although most Solomon Islanders are in some sense Christian, they have not given up their ancestral beliefs. They speak constantly of kastom, the pidgin word for the old ways, and in practice each Solomon Islander observes his or her own combination of Melanesian kastom and Christianity. Even ministers and priests mingle the two traditions. When Montgomery meets a man who claims to be the "shark boss," and to command a giant shark that rules one large lagoon, he asks the man where he prays to the shark.

"What do you mean, where? I pay in the cathedral. The Catholic church."
"I can't imagine the priest is happy about that."
"He doesn't mind. He knows the shark is not a devil. He knows he is my ancestor and that he gives me good power."

As he explores the islands and meets a range of religious practitioners, Montgomery comes to understand that there is a deeper weakness in the islanders' Christianity. To many of them, Jesus is just another famous ancestor, important because of the power he can give to the living. Christian symbols function like kastom stones, as repositories of mana that can be used to heal the sick or to curse enemies. Very little is said about the sacrifice of Jesus or the promise of heaven. It is a Christianity very much of the here and now.

One of the leading religious groups in this cacophony is the tasiu, or Melanesian Brotherhood. The brotherhood is a group of Anglican men who take vows of celibacy and poverty and travel the islands battling black magic and preaching Christianity. Many people hold them in awe, and Montgomery hears many stories about their magic. They all carry carved walking sticks believed to have magic powers -- for example, it is widely held that no one can lie while touching one of these sticks. At first Montgomery hears about the tasiu from other islanders, and they come across as just another groups of formidable magic wielders:

Eli lowered his voice. The tasiu, he said, was a powerful man of God. He lived with his apprentices on a hill near Vureas Bay. He had a magic walking stick. Wherever Eli had tried to promote kastom, the tasiu had smashed it. Even as we spoke, the tasiu was hunting down kastom stones, exorcising their spirits, wiping away their power. The tasiu confronted the owers of those stones: he told them they must wrap their hands around his magic walking stick and confess their crimes or face a terrible punishment from God. "I tell you," said Eli, "it is not easy being a kastom chief these days." (171)

But as Montgomery gets to know some of the tasiu, he finds them very down to earth, and without any great animosity toward kastom. Their main work, in this year of trouble, was trying to keep the simmering conflict between various factions from exploding into all-out war. The biggest trouble was between residents of Guadalcanal, the biggest island, and the neighboring island of Malaita, many of whom had moved to the capital city of Honiara. The tasiu work at settling conflicts, returning kidnap victims, getting people to give up the automatic weapons that had been looted from government armories. Montgomery watches as one of the brothers defused a potentially deadly encounter by stepping between the rival groups, falling to his knees and beginning to pray.

Because of this and other encounters, Montgomery's attitude toward both Christianity and kastom shifts. In the Solomons, Christianity is a force against superstition, especially the fear of black magic that turns some islanders into paranoid wrecks. Christianity is also a force for peace, especially in the person of the Melanesian Brotherhood. If you read a western account of the peace that was eventually reached in the islands, enforced by 2300 mostly Australian soldiers, it concerns actions by government officials and foreign diplomats. (Here's one at wikipedia.) The islanders Montgomery meets have a completely different view; to them it was he sacrifice of the tasiu, five of whom were killed by the most notorious warlord, that led to peace. One of the victims was Montgomery's friend Brother Francis, the same man who had fallen on his knees in prayer to avert a violent clash as Montgomery looked on. Here, Montgomery sees, is the true spirit of Christianity, and he thinks that through the brotherhood's sacrifice the islanders might learn about Christianity as a different attitude toward the universe, not just another source of magic.

The best thing about The Shark God is that Montgomery offers no pat resolution of these perplexities. Some of the book's most appealing characters are very much partisans of the old ways, dismissive of Christianity as somebody else's kastom. Others, like Brother Francis, believe that only Christianity can save the islands from the rivalries fueled by sorcery. Others are befuddled, like the Minister of Reconciliation, who vents his frustration to Montgomery in a hotel bar:

"We have been wrong in our ways. We have so many riches. Where did all those riches go? What is wrong with us? What does God want us to do? How can we know his mind?" (205)

To me, the situation of the Solomon Islands seems depressingly familiar. Around the fringes of the modern, westernized world are many such societies: on Indian reservations, in Middle Eastern villages, in the African bush. To be half in and half out of the western world is a curse. Some people seem to navigate it well, but for others it is a nightmare, and they live torn between kastom that seems outmoded even to them and an alien way of living. Charles Montgomery's book is a fascinating meditation on the spiritual side of this dilemma, and I recommend it highly to anyone interested in these issues.