It may safely be said that the Ifugaos have constructed the most extensive and the most admirable terraces for rice culture to be found anywhere in the world. The Japanese terraces, which excite the admiration of tens of thousands of tourists every year, are not to be compared with them. On these steep mountains that rise from sea-level to heights of six to eight thousand feet—mountains as steep probably as any in the world—there have been carved out, with wooden spades and wooden crowbars, terraces that run like the crude but picturesque “stairsteps” of a race of giants, from the bases almost to the summits. Some of these terrace walls are fifty feet high. More than half are walled with stone. Water to flood these terraces is retained by a little rim of earth at the outer margin. The soil is turned in preparation for planting with a wooden spade. No mountain is too steep to be terraced, if it affords an unfailing supply of water for irrigation. The Ifugao, too, makes clearings on his mountains in which he plants sweet potatoes, and numerous less important vegetables. Without his knowing it, he bases his agriculture on scientific principles (to an extent that astounds the white man) and he tends his crops so skillfully and artistically that he probably has no peer as a mountain husbandman.
Of political organization the Ifugao has nothing—not even a suggestion. Notwithstanding, he has a well-developed system of laws. This absolute lack of political government has brought it about that the Ifugao is a consummate diplomat. After an eight years’ residence among them, I am convinced that the Ifugaos got along very well in the days before a foreign government was established among them. Through countless generations the Ifugao who has survived and prospered has been the one who has carried his point, indeed, but has carried it without involving himself in serious trouble with his fellows.
The Ifugao’s religion is a mixture of an exceedingly complex polytheism, ancestor worship, and a mythology that is used as an instrument of magic. His religion seems to be far more highly developed than that of the other non-Christian tribes.
Attempts made by Spain to colonize the Ifugao in the lowlands invariably met with failure. The Ifugao is a hillman, and loves his hills. He is of an independent nature and cannot stand confinement. A great many prisoners jailed by American officials have courted death rather than endure incarceration.
While there are well defined tribal divisions that mark off the various mountain-Malay populations of northern Luzon, the cultures of all of the tribes are basically similar. Numerous parallelisms, too, are found with the lowland Filipinos, even now, in features of daily life, religion, taboo, law, and marital relation. The dialects of all the tribes inhabiting the islands are branches of the great family of Malay languages—languages spoken over more than half the circumference of the globe. The linguistic differences that exist between the mountain and the lowland tribes seem to be not much greater than the linguistic differences between the various mountain tribes themselves.
Many things lead us to believe that the culture of the Ifugaos is very old. We have to do with a people who possess both as individuals and collectively a most remarkable memory. Ifugao rich men lend to considerable numbers of clients and others every year during the “hungry time”—to these, varying numbers of bundles of rice, to this one a skein of yarn, to that one a pig, and to another again a chicken. All these bargains and their amounts and their varying terms, our wealthy Ifugao remembers, unaided by any system of writing or other artificial means. Many Ifugaos know their ancestors back to the tenth or even the fourteenth generation, and, in addition, the brothers and sisters of these ancestors. If we consider the racial or tribal memory of these people, we find a mythology fully as voluminous as that of the Greeks. But the Ifugaos have no recollections of having ever migrated. Unless they have lived for many centuries in their present habitat, it seems certain that they would have retained at least in mythical form the memory of their migration.
Another consideration that is significant lies in a comparison of the rate of rice-field building in these peaceful times, when such work is not hindered but instead vigorously stimulated by the government, with the amount of such work accomplished by past generations. One who stands on some jutting spur of the mountain-side in Asin, Sapao, or Benaue can scarcely help being impressed with the feeling that he is looking upon a work of tens of centuries. Any calculation must be based on vague and hazardous figures of course, but, without having any theories to prove, and making due allowance for increased rate of building during peaceful times and for the pressure of the needs of increased population, from a comparison of the estimated area of voluntary rice-field building with the areas already constructed, I come to the conclusion that the Ifugaos must have lived in their present habitat for at least two thousand years, and I believe that these figures are too small.
Sources of Ifugao Law and its Present Status of Development
The Ifugaos have no form of writing: there is, consequently, no written law. They have no form of political government: there is, therefore, no constitutional or statutory law. Inasmuch as they have no courts or judges, there is no law based on judicial decisions.