Gifts have the potential to release social energy; offering a gift strengthens relations and builds trust. They are the opposite of commodities, which can be either bought or sold and do not help create communities.
The Puritan settlers who arrived in North America in the early eighteenth century were happy to accept gifts from the locals. In subsequent dealings, however, they noted with surprise that they were expected to either return the gifts they received or offer reciprocal gifts. The confusion was so great that it gave rise to the pejorative expression “Indian giver,” used to describe a person who gives something in the hope of being offered the same, or better yet, in the hope of making a profit. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the pioneers who established a land route from the East Coast of North America westward, wrote in their diaries that at first the principle of gift-giving seemed pleasant, but later on they often preferred to reject certain gifts because they could not afford to offer anything equally costly in return. They viewed the hosts of the land as brash people with a thieving nature. This prejudice stemmed from different understandings of the notion of the gift. For Native Americans, gifts begin a cycle of social exchange, and the circulation of gifts sustains ties between the gifting parties. Someone who refuses to accept a gift, or alternatively, accepts a gift but does not reciprocate, was deemed an untrustworthy boor. Meanwhile the Europeans, who were already rooted in the individualistic ideology of early capitalism, considered gift-giving to be a voluntary act that entailed no obligations. Reciprocity as one of the most common principles of the gift economy was still waiting to be (re)discovered.
The Principle of Reciprocity
The exchange of gifts as a foundation of the social systems governing the lives of indigenous communities has been described in two groundbreaking works published in the 1920s—Argonauts of the Western Pacific by Bronisław Malinowski and an essay entitled “The Gift” by French sociologist and anthropologist Marcel Mauss. They both studied a phenomenon that proved to be so fascinating that researchers interested in the gift as a cultural phenomenon refer to the analyzed material to this day.
In Argonauts of the Western Pacific, Malinowski described a ritual exchange system called the kula. During his two-year stay in the Trobriand Islands, the Polish anthropologist observed that the local Massim people exchange two kinds of objects: soulava necklaces made from red seashells, and mwali armlets made from white, cone-shaped shells filed at the top. These gifts are passed on between the islanders until they return to their original owners. Such cycles may last from two to ten years. Both kinds of ceremonial objects follow a circular path in opposite ways: the necklaces are passed on between the islands clockwise, while the armlets travel counter-clockwise. When an islander receives a necklace, they must offer an equally valuable armlet in return, although they have no obligation to do so immediately. If they do not own a jewel of equal value, they can use a less precious, provisory item. However, the “debt” must be paid off at the next opportunity.
The long-distance journey of the kula exchange items is put in motion twice a year. It starts at the same time as the commercial turnover of goods, called gimwali in the local language. However, although the two exchanges happen simultaneously, they have different functions and are governed by different rules. Each necklace and each armlet is assigned a separate name and story, and according to the “once kula, always kula” rule, they cannot be exchanged for other goods. Moreover, bargaining over the value of the ritual gifts is forbidden. The onus is on the giver to provide an equally valuable gift in return. If this rule is violated, the giver is scorned: “They do kula as if it were gimwali,” goes the saying. According to Malinowski, who analyzed the functions of social behaviors, the kula was the foundation of peaceful coexistence between neighboring islands. Additionally, the ritual strengthened social ties. It required that participants travel to other islands and exchange messages, songs, legends or religious practices during the transfer of gifts. The principle of reciprocity, “I give and expect to be given something,” was also enacted at the time. It was based on the following reasoning: “I give because I hope for something in return; I reciprocate because I fear I will stop receiving.” According to the anthropologist, these principles were the cornerstone of the Massim community in the Western Pacific.
Apart from strengthening social ties, gift-giving can also be crucial in the struggle for prestige and social standing. The moka system established in the highlands of Papua New Guinea (roughly 500 km west of the Trobriand Islands), studied by American anthropologist Marshall Sahlins, is based on reciprocity but also allows for surplus. In the case of moka, the exchange takes place between those who aspire to the title of “Big Man,” someone who is wealthy, respected, and reliable. A kind of duel of generosity is enacted, and the participants give each other breeding pigs. Having received a certain number of them, the recipient is obliged to reciprocate. To increase his prestige and indebtedness to the exchange partner, one must outbid his partner in the size of the offered pig. Sometimes it takes a couple of years to return the offering with a surplus. In the meantime, the reputation of the receiving side moves dangerously towards ‘rubbish man.’ It is also possible to barter with many Big Men at once, until one’s land has no more productive capacity. In the forests of Papua New Guinea, raising pigs is extremely demanding due to local conditions. Maintaining large herds generates high costs. The livestock exchange network in which cattle remains in escrow with one’s debtor allows an individual to maintain his status without actually having to keep a large number of animals. Thus, the moka system transcends mere generosity and the willingness to share goods. In this case, gift-giving is also a demonstration of social superiority and a way to accumulate capital. It involves the pursuit of profit. Wealth, in turn, increases prestige and gives power. The recipient becomes subordinated to the giver.
Marcel Mauss focused on comparing traditional forms of gift-giving with the modern Western system based on commodity exchange. The French scholar with socialist leanings believed that the exchange of gifts is a common social phenomenon that has a far greater impact on human relationships than the relatively recent notion of the economic exchange of goods. Gifts strengthen social ties, if only through the principle of reciprocity or the fact that exchanges are designed to increase prestige and fame, not wealth. Thus, Mauss discovered the political aspect of gift-giving. A good example cited in “The Gift” to confirm the accuracy of these observations is the potlatch, a ritual akin to the Kula or moka exchange. The potlatch tradition, observed among the indigenous peoples of the Northwest Coast of North America, consisted of a lavish feast thrown by the clan leader during which he not only displayed his wealth, but also exhibited an almost manic extravagance in order to manifest his power. There were even instances of ostentatious destruction of property. The whole event was usually violent—even antagonistic—because in order to prove its superiority, the neighboring clan had to organize an even bigger “killing of wealth,” as the potlatch was sometimes called.
This gift economy contrasts most glaringly with commodity-based economics. Such gift-giving gradually shifts away from the exchanged objects and becomes a kind of duel, a demonstration of power aimed at establishing a social hierarchy. In this sense, it is not entirely different from the practices of the Massim: the rotation of mwali and soulava is also part of a larger system of dependency within the group.
This anthropological mirror that reflects the growing alienation of modern man and the commodification of social relations was invoked by various circles whose members, just like Marcel Mauss, remained critical of free market capitalism. In the 1950s, for instance, it became an inspiration for artists from the Lettrist International, based in Brussels, who used the word Potlatch as a title for their anti-capitalist (and anti-Stalinist) newsletter, sent free of charge to random readers whose addresses the artists simply found in the phone book. During ritual gift-giving the commodity does not become alienated, unlike in a market reality, since commercial exchanges do not obligate the recipient to further reciprocation. Hence, they do not contribute to building long-term relationships between individuals.
In Friendly Circles
The gift, its economy, and its ties to art are discussed in Lewis Hyde’s book of essays entitled The Gift, published in the 1980s, in which the author analyzes the social role of gifts. Citing material collected by Malinowski, he studies the circular trajectory of the gift. The more givers and takers participate in this cycle, the less bilateral discussion and bargaining there is between them. Therefore, the political dimension of gift-giving is reduced. In such an expanded cycle of exchange, ties of ownership are weakened and it becomes easier to form a community: “When the gift moves in a circle its motion is beyond the control of the personal ego, and so each bearer must be a part of the group and each donation is an act of social faith,” writes Hyde. Moreover, he argues that participating in these exchanges contributes to the maturation of the individual. Community members grow up to identify with increasingly broader social categories that transcend the self.
An exchange limited to two people is the first stage of community formation—two points form a line rather than a circle. Focusing on oneself and equating the act of giving with personal benefit is only the first stage of human development. It can be compared to infancy, when gifts are only meant to satisfy the needs of the receiving child. The individual who matures must transcend this simplest, linear form of exchange in order to learn the act of giving, a social exchange that takes place in ever-widening circles.
In order to describe the expansion of the exchange cycle, Lewis cites (after Mauss) a Māori ritual that extends beyond a group of people to include nature. Hunters give a portion of their catch to priests so that they have the energy to craft a mauri (the name of a special talisman) as a gift to the forest. The mauri carries the forest’s hau, or “spiritual force,” which must be returned to the environment after the hunt upsets the natural equilibrium. This kind of ceremonial exchange involves three participants : the hunters, the priests and the forest. The people who exchange gifts with the forest foster a symbiotic relationship with nature. Mauss cites the words of Tamati Ranaipiri, a Māori community leader who described the ceremony in the late nineteenth century in the Māori language. Ranaipiri explained that the handing over of mauri ensures an abundance of fowl for future hunts. Apart from the economic aspect of this practice, Hyde emphasizes the expansion of the circle of exchange to include hau, which is related to the spiritual realm. The personal and tribal dimensions are transcended, and the gift begins to circulate in the spheres of the sacred as well. The energy carried by the gift moves between all the participants of this relation. The author of The Gift invokes Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself to illustrate this transcendent nature of giving. The speaker at the beginning of the poem declares “And what I assume you shall assume / For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you,” and then vanishes into thin air at the end of the work to merge with the unity of the world and the universe.
According to Hyde, participating in the exchange of gifts is a chance to connect with a flux of inexhaustible energy. Continuing his analysis of the mechanism of the gift, he argues that just as a commodity is traded for profit, a gift contributes to the creation of a kind of void. This emptiness is illusory, however, because by giving something, we also make room for something new. “Our generosity may leave us empty, but our emptiness then pulls gently at the whole until the thing in motion returns to replenish us,” Hyde concludes.
The Gift of Misfortune
However, gift-giving does not always involve reciprocity. An example of gift-giving without expecting any benefits in return is the Indian dan system that creates asymmetrical relationships. Members of higher castes offer gifts to less wealthy individuals during secular holidays or religious festivals. Dan gifts are used to pass on dangerous and unfortunate events, such as illness, death, and bad luck. They may be offered by pilgrims to the Brahmins who perform funeral rituals in Varanasi, for example. Such gifts can be anything because the object itself is not the vehicle of misfortune—what counts is the intention. The caste system forces the recipient to accept the gift. The institutionalized flow of poisoned gifts helps to perpetuate the dominance of the upper classes. The description of this unpleasant custom revived the concept of the “spirit of the gift” as the main driving force of the gift system, competing with the principle of reciprocity. Unlike Malinowski, Mauss believed that the motivation for gift-giving was spiritual rather than socially pragmatic. An Indian dan gift would therefore bear the negative spirit of the giver. The author of “The Gift” also mentions the Māori system of exchanging costly taonga objects, which embody the magical, religious and spiritual power of the original owner. The recipient of the gift will suffer misfortune if they fail to pass the gift on or return it to its giver. The power embodied in the gift makes it impossible to stop the exchange, which is driven by the fear of misfortune and not the desire to do good.
The French sociologist, anthropologist and philosopher Pierre Bourdieu, who was also the intellectual heir to Mauss, emphasized the dual nature of gift-giving in his Pascalian Meditations. We like to see the act of giving as an expression of our selfless generosity but at the same time, we never quite forget the rules of reciprocity that stand behind this practice. When we place presents under the Christmas tree, we somehow intuit that our name will also be written on one of the packages. According to Bourdieu, the solution to this dual nature of giving is to defer the reciprocal gift. Thus, for a moment, we conceive of the gift as an altruistic act and it obscures the general rule of reciprocity. We focus on someone else, setting aside our own expectations. However, this state cannot last forever. “A gift is a misfortune,” say the Kabyles, a Berber people living in the mountains of Algeria. This adage expresses the fear aroused in the recipient of a gift who feels pressured into reciprocity. Acknowledging these contradictions, however, allows us to better understand the ambiguous nature of the diverse yet common practice that is gift-giving.
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