Fierce Man: The Haka

"The essential nature of the thing remains the primitive, the physical struggle; and however civilized a man is, it is his duty to be ready for such a contingency, which may any day arise." - Thomas Mann, MAGIC MOUNTAIN

The tribes of the South Pacific were some of the fiercest warriors in the history of the world. From the Maori in New Zealand to the Hawaiians (in fact distant cousins of the Maori) these natives were physically superior in every way to the pale limeys who would come to conquer them, a feat made feasible only with the help of modern technology.

At first, and for the longest time, "civilized" man thought these "savages" were inferior to them. They looked down upon these caramel-skinned warriors as fierce, no doubt, and strong, but obviously stupid since they hadn't discovered smelting and gunpowder and Christian guilt.

But the thing is, it wasn't because they were any less intelligent than their European counterparts that they didn't build a city of smokestacks, with black death running through the gutters and shit strewn along the sidewalk. It was because they were tough enough to survive in the harsh climes of islands ravaged by storms, volcanic eruption, and some of the deadliest animals on earth WITHOUT the help of advanced weaponry. They fought wars but didn't feel a need to INVENT new tools for battle, didn't have that nerdfare proclivity towards gadgetry and long-distance explosion. They fought with honor, prided themselves on the force of their muscle, the speed of their wits, and their ability with weapons that relied on little more than their own physical strength. And of course playing simple mindgames against their opponent. Perhaps they were savage, sure. But they were savage in the best way possible.

The Haka is a Maori dance they'd throw down before a battle to try and play mindgames with their enemies, similar to the old Scottish tradition of sending a naked bagpiper out in front but much more frightening because instead of a sheep's bladder being filled with and emptied of air, this was a lineup of fierce warriors showing off their muscles and power in perfect military coordination and telling you that, in fact, they will smack you around, crush you into the ground, and possibly eat you once they're done killing you. Even more, this war dance is showing you how and with what muscles they'll do it. This is the ultimate combination of battle, grace, creativity and psychological attack. Art and expression made into warfare.

As we know, war is only about 2/3rds physical. America didn't lose the Vietnam war because of any military or technological inferiority. We lost it because the Vietnamese were not afraid to die, nor were they afraid to slaughter any and everybody who got in their way; and even more, we lost it because Americans had sweethearts in Los Angeles and parents in Texas and parties in NYC to return to whether they won or lost while the Vietnamese knew loss would mean they had nowhere to go. And how many early American settlers were disheartened and discouraged by the cries of the Sioux or the Cheyenne or certainly the Comanches while trying to usurp their native hunting grounds? Hell, in spite of the union's great numbers and weaponry the Native Americans made a damn good run of it.

War cries have always been part and parcel of war, trying to psych out the opponents. But it takes a truly fierce, regimented society, like those of the South Pacific tribes, to make your psychological warfare into an organized, deliberate spectacle which, in its unison and intensity, would surely strike fear into the opponents (remember how scared you got of China when they performed that highly-orchestrated and organized drum session?). Americans had rebel yells but an organized death dance just moments before leaping into battle with cudgels and spears and massive clubs - that's nothing short of awe-inspiring.

Today the haka is only seen in traditional dances or occasionally weaved into pre-game warm-ups from teams like the All-Blacks.

Perhaps because war, like most other things, has become gentrified, separated. We fight with drones, we use long-range weapons. A lot of the time soldiers die without even seeing the enemy who actually killed them, taking the personal nature out of war, turning man to man battles, the essence of conflict, from whose rubble modern society sprung. Even more, today a soldier's worth (with the exception of special forces, who are every bit the fierce savage warrior of the Maori, the Hawaiians, the Comanches, the Spartans, all rolled into one and equipped with the most powerful modern weaponry to boot, though apparently some are known to still scalp) is summed up with how well they can shoot a weapon and duck and cover while engaging. My point is that no long is physical toughness - that is, man stripped to his bare essentials and from there proving himself either a better or lesser killing machine based solely on what the gods gave him - a big factor in victory. And we have to lament the fact that the psychological thrill of showing your toughness through aggressive moves and fierce yelling is relegated to atavistic luaus and sporting matches.

Though Ray Lewis' own "haka" certainly inspires me to tear off some heads.

And when he starts yelling to folks - then just fuhgeddaboudit.

Maybe if we started bringing hakas to our life, to our daily wars and battle, we'd return to the former glory of tough, savage manhood as epitomized by those great tribes we subjugated with long guns so we could build tourist highrises and sheep farms.

- Ryan