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Yap: Political Leadership and Culture Change in an Island Society: 11. LEADERSHIP AND DECISION-MAKING

Yap: Political Leadership and Culture Change in an Island Society
11. LEADERSHIP AND DECISION-MAKING
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11. LEADERSHIP AND DECISION-MAKING

The study of change is not simply a matter of documenting sub­stitutions of new elements for old; it is rather a study of process, involving choice and decision, conflict and resolution, and phase development of new political patterns. Political change on Yap is a very complicated phenomenon intermingling the demands of the Amer­ican government, the new desires of the Yapese, the constraints of tradition, and individual strategies and choices as each leader and each constituent wends his way through the maze of politics to achieve his own personal goals and his particular interpretation of group goals.

The study of traditional leadership and current changes in Yap is essentially a study of political activity. Following Swartz, Turner, and Tuden (1966:7–8), political activity is everything that is “public,” “goal-oriented,” and involves a “differential of power among individ­uals of the group in question.” Political activity occurs in the context of a political “field,” rather than in a synchronic structure, that is filled with tension, and characterized by strategic maneuvering between individual and corporate competitors. These antagonists seek both the public good and their own private interests, and may in the pursuit of these goals alternately support or challenge one another.

Political activity within the field is premised upon demands. The objectives of such activity are to satisfy these demands and to fulfill group and individual goals. The inevitable variance in interpretations of both private and public good create conflicting expectations and a state 218of perpetual, but often suppressed, tension among the adversaries within the field. When situational demands force public action, these tensions emerge in the ensuing political event as conflict-and goal-directed strategies.

Political events occur at focal centers or arenas existing within the field in which the principles interact. Each arena has its own norma­tive structure defining the parameters of action and standards of legiti­macy. The conditions influencing any action in any arena, however, come from the broader scope of the field. The outer boundaries of the field are marked by the extreme limits from which demands originate or from which support is mobilized to make or implement political decisions. These boundaries vary with situation and time.

The concept of “field” does not preclude structure, but rather identifies it as the normative framework of dynamic phenomena. The following conceptual categories have been utilized throughout this work for analysis of structure as it occurs in the various arenas of the political field.

Political community—the largest decision-making group in which differences are settled by peaceful action based upon shared stan­dards and structures (Easton 1959:229).

Regime—the “constitutional order” including the definition of statuses and their structural arrangements, the assignments of au­thority to statuses, and standards of legality (Easton 1959:228). Leadership status—defined as a position whose role is making po­litical decisions, but which may or may not be part of regime.

Concomitant with these structural concepts are several categories utilized for the analysis of activity in the political field. These include

Officials—occupants of political statuses, or leaders;

Government—the organization developed by the officials to make and execute decisions and to conduct the general administration of affairs (Easton 1959:228);

Decisions—pronouncements with regard to goals, allocations, and settlements.

These concepts have supplied the basic framework or model for our look at both the traditional and contemporary processes of Yapese politics.

To explain political change on Yap, one must explain the nature of interaction between inputs from the traditional and modern spheres of politics into the field of tension and process. Interaction between these spheres is examined in the areas of structure, leadership, and de­cision-making. 219

Change in the structure of the political field, for example, of the sort brought about by American-style administration, councils, legisla­tures, and democratic processes as documented in the previous chapter, is imposed upon a traditional base of politics, and cannot be effectively analyzed apart from that base. The traditional base is most prominent at the local level, yet determines the occupants of many of the statuses in the new structure, and furnishes restraints on procedures for reach­ing and implementing decisions. Key concepts for insight into the dy­namics of these changes include alternate assignments of authority and the traditional and new mechanisms for achieving legitimacy and sup­port in all activities in the political field.

When changes occur in the structure of a field, changes may also occur in the methods of recruitment and the criteria for selection of leaders. Force (1960) documents such changes in Palau, and the same may be expected in Yap, for Yap is experiencing similar pressures for change. Certain questions follow: How important are new interests, or demands, to the emergence of a new elite? What effect do the new structural positions introduced by the alien power have upon the selec­tion of the elite? To what extent and in what manner have the methods of recruitment and the selection of leaders changed (from traditional ways) and what implications does this have for the creation of a new elite? To what extent is there leadership mobility, if any, from lower positions to higher, both in the traditional and the emergent leadership situations?

Finally, the decision-making process, including the standard pro­cedures for reaching and implementing decisions as defined in regime, and the nature of choice in that process, is fundamental to the study of change. Choice is made on the basis of anticipated gains to be achieved within a socially prescribed framework of acceptable behavior. To pre­dict the direction of choice, it is necessary to specify the nature of constraints and incentives. Through such specification, we can deter­mine the range of possible choices and predict patterns of behavior. Following the ideas of Barth (1966, 1967), it is useful to examine con­straints and incentives in terms of statuses, rules, transactions, and values.

Complex patterns of behavior, or roles, are generated both from statuses and from a set of situationally determined rules (Goffman’s requirements of “impression management’’ [1959]). In an analysis of the Yapese political field, political choice or decision-making is restricted by the limitations of status and by the recognized procedures and im­pression behavior appropriate for an occupant of that status. These two factors, however, are only part of the choice or decision-making situa­tion. Most interpersonal relations are transactional in nature, involving 220a reciprocal flow and counterflow of prestations. It is this transactional nature of behavior that provides the dynamic of the model.

Transactions necessarily involve values. People value certain ends and are thus motivated and/or restrained to behavior that will hope­fully accomplish those ends. The evaluations of a group do not remain static, but are continually revised both in terms of comparative rates of payoffs and in terms of consistency and integration. The rates are sub­ject, in economic terms, to the cost-demand price mechanisms of the market and to the ecological and strategic restraints (values, statuses, rules of behavior) in the system. Consistent evaluations, which are based on the previous experience of members of the community, gen­erate institutionalized patterns of choice and behavior.

The potential of predicting change in the political field lies in the analysis of the decision-making processes. By applying these concepts to Yapese data we hope to see if the “events” of change fill the require­ments of the transactional strategies of the model, and if from these strategies and from the specification of ecological and strategic re­straints of the society we can predict the institutionalization of patterns of change.

The New Political Elite

In the competition for status, change in the methods of recruit­ment and selection of leaders becomes of primary importance. New methods of recruitment should precipitate both leadership mobility and the formation of new elites. Some questions considered here are: 1) How do contemporary Yapese recruit and select their leaders? 2) Do these methods lead to the formation of a new political elite? 3) Do they create avenues for individual mobility in the political hierarchy?

Selection of leaders for new status positions is accomplished pri­marily by election, application of objective requirements such as a test, or by appointment. The first two techniques are foreign to the traditional ideology of Yap politics. Leadership selection was limited by rights to land and kinship relationships, subject to the consensus decisions of a council. Appointment to leadership positions could be made by the council in a case of land left without heirs, but not other­wise. Testing was unknown.

Since the majority of new leadership statuses are filled by the elec­tive process, it provides the most fruitful area for analysis. The naval administration set up the first elections to decide the chiefs who would represent each municipality. The traditional chiefs of the leading vil­lages were nominated by a council of chiefs and duly elected by the people, setting a precedent for municipal leadership. In 1952 the civil 221administration established election procedures in which each municipal­ity submitted four candidates for magistrate. Ten names on a petition were adequate to establish candidacy. Voting was by secret ballot marked in a private booth, and ballots were placed in a locked box. Each voter, previously ascertained to be mentally capable and over eighteen years old, was called forward by name from a registry to cast his ballot. Campaigning was not done publicly, instead the results of the election generally were decided in a council of municipal chiefs before election day and word passed around to the people as to how they should vote.

Election procedures were not formalized until 1968. Voters now are required to have resided in Yap for one year and to be eighteen years of age or older. Candidacy, instead of being established by the magistrates and village chiefs as in the past, is obtained by submitting a petition with the required number of signatures to the election commissioner. Ballots are secret, submitted after being approved by the local registrar of voters. Votes are counted by an established board of elections and the district administrator declares the official results.

A careful examination of the results of past elections in Yap yields very important insights into the process of leadership selection and the emergence of a new elite. Tables 24 and 25 illustrate very clearly the Yapese distinction between the positions of magistrate and legislator, and the importance of traditional title for the magistrate status. In all recorded elections since 1952, a majority of the magistrates have been selected from the traditional hereditary elite of the highest-ranking villages in the municipalities. Only six individuals of the twenty-eight elected over a period of sixteen years and nine elections have been without title. Only one of these six was from a commoner-ranking vil­lage and only one was from a second-ranking village in the municipal­ity. The other four were qualified members of the leading villages se­lected in place of less-qualified titled members or in the absence of qualified members. The two lower-ranking magistrates were elected in the absence of a capable titled individual.

In marked contrast, the legislature shows a minority representation of titled or even nontitled representatives from the highest-ranking vil­lages in the municipalities. Out of thirty-five representatives elected over nine years in five recorded elections, only four have been titled chiefs in the highest-ranking villages in their municipalities, and only eleven of the remaining representatives were from the highest-ranking villages. An additional three should be added to this figure if Rumung, whose leading villages are of the second rank, is included. All four titled individuals and nine of the fourteen nontitled were elected in the first election of 1959. Six of these thirteen were replaced in subsequent 222elections by lower-ranking, but better qualified individuals. In the elec­tion for the District Legislature in 1968, only four of the twelve repre­sentatives elected were from the leading villages, four were from com­moner villages, three from second-ranking villages, and one from a servant-class village.

Table 24. Election Patterns for Selection of Magistrates

Municipality195219531955195619591962196519671968
RumungTNTNTNTNtcTNatctcTNb
MapTCTCTNTNTNTNTNTNTCa
GagilTCTCTCTCTCTCTCCTC
TamilCCCCCCCCC
WeloyTCTCTCTCaTCaTCaTCaTCaTCa
FanifTCCTCaTCaTCaTCaTCaTCaTCa
RullTCTCTCTCTCTCaTCaTCbTCb
DelipebinawTCTCTCTCTCTCTCaTCbC
KanfayTCTCaTCaTCNNNNN
GilmanTCTCaTCaTCaTCTCTCbTCbTCb

Total number magistrates each class: TC = 18; TN = 4; tc = 1; C =4; N = 1; c = 0; s = 0.

Total number individuals elected magistrate = 28

notes:

TC = titled individual from chief-ranking village (ulun, bulce‘)

TN = titled individual from noble-ranking village (methaban, tethaban)

  tc = titled commoner, daworcig-ranking village.

  C = untitled individual from chief-ranking village

  N = untitled individual from noble-ranking village

  c = untitled individual from commoner-ranking village

  s = individual from a servant-class village (milngay ni arow)

Repetition of the same symbol for a municipality indicates the same individual was reelected.

a indicates a second individual of the same rank as the first

b indicates a third individual of the same rank as the first

These figures indicate the formation of a new political elite on Yap. One very obvious contributing factor in this process is the pres­ence of new political statuses or new structures, that is, the Council of Magistrates and the legislature. A new structure by itself, however, is not sufficient grounds for establishing a new elite, as evidenced by the council. It has been argued previously that the formal structure of the council parallels very closely the traditional structures in the political field. It is not illogical then that the Yapese, in a logical extension of the traditional framework and leadership, should select traditional, titled leaders to fill these new statuses. However, when the form and function of the new structure, for example, the legislature, is sufficiently differ­ent to require new skills and new forms of leadership, a new elite is established without regard to traditional structures. Consideration of criteria for selecting leaders illustrates this more clearly.223

Table 25. Election Patterns for Selection of Legislators and Congressmen

Elections for Legislature

Term Length
1959 4 yr.1959 2 yr.1961 4 yr.1965 4 yr.1967 4 yr.1968 (Dist. Leg.) 2 yr.
Municipality
Rumung  NTNNaN   Nb   Na
Map tc   N  NN   tc   tc
Gagil  C  Ca  NNa   N   Nb
TamilTC   C  CCTC   N
Weloy  c   N  caca   cb   C
Fanif  N   c  cN   c   N
Rull  C   c  cCa   C   C
Delipebinaw  C  Ca  cc   Ca   c
Kanfay  C  CaCaC   Cb   s
GilmanTCTCa  cc   ca   c
At-LargeA.TC
B.   c
Elections for Congress of Micronesia
196419661968
Senate A.tc—C
            B.cN—
House A.ccca

Total number legislators and Congressmen each class: TC = 3; TN = 1; tc = 2; C= 12; N= 11; c= 11; s= 1

Total number individuals elected = 41

notes:

TC = titled individual from chief-ranking village (ulun, bulce‘)

TN = titled individual from noble-ranking village (methaban, tethaban)

  tc = titled individual from commoner-ranking village (daworcig)

  C = untitled individual from chief-ranking village

  N = untitled individual from noble-ranking village

  c = untitled individual from commoner-ranking village

  s = individual from a servant-class village (milngay ni arow)

Repetition of the same symbol for a municipality indicates the same individual was reelected.

a indicates a second individual of the same rank as the first

b indicates a third individual of the same rank as the first 224

The objective criteria for selecting leaders show several marked distinctions and priorities between the old leaders and the new. Edu­cation is the first requirement of legislators and congressmen, and con­siderable experience with the American administration and the new ways is second. Extensive education may be substituted for experience, but the reverse is not generally true. The old leaders, or magistrates, however, are exempt in total from the education requirement. Instead it is desired that they have a traditional base of authority, supplemented by age and experience. The rationale for these distinctions is the sepa­rate leadership requirements of the statuses. It was recognized very early in the history of the legislature that legislative skills were new, American-derived, and required special knowledge and capabilities. Traditional leaders, recognizing their own deficiencies, selected younger, educated men to fill these positions. In contrast, the magistrate’s posi­tion is viewed as one of local authority, with primarily executive re­sponsibilities. The primary local groups are villages, with traditional leaders. To mobilize such traditional leaders for municipal projects, a magistrate with traditional authority, knowledge, and prestige is con­sidered most effective. Selection of leaders on these principles is clearly illustrated in Table 26.

The cultural decision, then, as to the formation of a new elite, very much depends upon the requirements of the situation of change. Should the new institutions be adaptable to traditional patterns of leadership, as was the case with the Council of Magistrates, adaptations are made readily. However, should the new institution require new knowledge and skills, the cultural definitions of leadership will expand to meet the new requirements and to provide the necessary leadership. Class barriers for the legislative leadership have been dropped, because of both the scarcity of qualified leaders and the indirect nature of legislative leader­ship. The legislator does not play an administrative role in municipal affairs, but rather a representative, informative, and advisory one. These duties were recognized as those belonging to second-ranking leaders in the traditional sphere and thus did not conflict with Yapese values in the selection process described earlier. The decision-making power of the legislature, however, was underestimated and has proved a deciding factor in elevating the prestige of legislators to an equal or in some cases greater level than that of the magistrate.225

Table 26. Comparison of Experience and Skills, Legislators, Congressmen, Magistrates, 1968

Legislators
MunicipalityAmerican EducationWork ExperienceSpecial Skills
GilmanCollege grad.10+ yearsAgricultural admin.
KanfayProfessional15+ yearsLaboratory tech.
DelipebinawProfessional10+ yearsLaw
Rull—15+ yearsLabor
WeloyCollege  2   yearsAdministration
FanifProfessional10+ yearsBusiness admin.
TamilHigh school10+ yearsLegal clerk
GagilCollege grad.  3   yearsHigh school teacher
MapProfessional15+ yearsBusiness admin.
RumungProfessional10+ yearsX-ray tech.
Congressmen
Leg.-at-large AJap. School20+ yearsCarpenter
Leg.-at-large BProfessional    5 yearsMedical tech.
RepresentativeCollege grad.10+ yearsEducation admin.
Senator ACollege grad.    6 yearsHigh school teacher
Senator BProfessional10+ yearsMedical doctor
Magistrates
MunicipalityEducationWork ExperienceSpecial SkillsTraditional Title
GilmanJap. SchoolTraditionalTraditionalChief
KanfayJap. SchoolTraditionalTraditionalnone
DelipebinawJap. School20+ yearsBus. Adm.none
RullJap. School20+ yearsElem. Tchr.Chief
WeloyJap. School20+ yearsCarpenterChief
FanifJap. School20+ yearsCarpenterChief
TamilJap. School20+ yearsBusinessnone
GagilJap. School20+ yearsJudgeChief
MapJap. SchoolTraditionalTraditionalChief
RumungAm. 9th grd.5+ yearsPolicemanChief’s son 226

The impression criteria for able leadership are nearly identical for magistrates, legislators, and traditional village chiefs. Informants were asked to rank in order of their preference the members of the Council of Magistrates and the District Legislature. Each informant was then asked why individuals were placed in their respective order. The char­acteristics below summarize their likes and dislikes of personal qualities in Yapese leaders:

Qualities admiredQualities deplored
knowledgeableignorant of custom
articulateinarticulate
aggressivedomineering
intelligentprecocious
open-mindedstubborn
modestpretentious
decisive/forcefulindecisive/timid
shrewdsneaky
credibleuntrustworthy
responsive to peopleself-interested
generousgrasping
impressive in appearancecommon in appearance

Based on the rankings made by the informants, a legislator may be more domineering and precocious than a traditional leader because of his special skills in dealing with Americans, and because of his indirect responsibilities to his people. The magistrate acts more frequently as a leader and administrator, and therefore is more exposed to public view and disapproval. In both cases, however, personal traits are eval­uated on the basis of traditional values, rather than on new introduced values. Critical deficiences may be overlooked should other considera­tions, such as effectiveness or special skills, be more important and alter­native choices in leadership not available.

One of the obvious consequences of the development of new leadership statuses and a new elite has been political and social mobility. The extent of this mobility may be measured in two areas: the com­position of the new elite, and the methods of selection. Table 24 shows that executive leadership in the Council of Magistrates is still the pri­mary province of titled chiefs or the highest-ranking villages in a mu­nicipality. Legislative and decision-making leadership, however, have been broadly extended to members from all ranks of the high caste and in one case to a member of the servant class. However, the lowest serfs, irrespective of skills, have not been able to achieve even consideration for leadership positions. One member of a traditional serf village, college educated and one of the brightest Yapese students ever encountered by his American teachers, submitted a petition to run for senator to the Congress of Micronesia. He was forced by another candidate and a caucus of high chiefs to withdraw his petition, with some not too subtle 227threats of physical harm. The same individual was ineffective as a high school teacher, unable to maintain classroom discipline, and finally left Yap for a less negative atmosphere elsewhere in Micronesia.

Leadership in the administration’s appointive positions show the same pattern of selection (Table 27). While American administrators know nothing about the class rank of a particular person, their Yapese subordinates do know and are able to influence appointments so that higher-ranking individuals receive the training opportunities and con­sequently the appointments to leadership positions. Again, within the high caste, job and leadership mobility is as frequent for members of commoner villages as for the chief villages, but members of servant and serf villages tend to be held in the lower-status positions. In areas of direct-leadership importance, such as the police force, or depart­ment heads, members of servant and serf villages tend to be excluded. The hospital administrator and a few skilled laborers in public works provide the only exceptions (Table 28). The composition of the elite, then, shows a marked mobility of low-ranking members of the high caste into new leadership positions. The only exception to this rule are those new positions, such as magistrate and secretary, which are defined traditionally. Low-caste villagers, however, are excluded from this new mobility, particularly in areas of political or administra­tive leadership.

Table 27. Distribution of Jobs in Administration, 1968

DivisionNo. of JobsNo. of High CasteNo. of ServantNo. of SerfNo. of Other
1. Administration3321  2  3  7
2. Public Health6247  4  6  5
3. Education7459  3  210
4. Public Affairs  6  5—  1—

5. Resources and Development

3018  3  3  6

6. Protection to Persons and Property

2120  1——

7. Operations and Maintenance

12364131729

The methods of selection of leaders provide further insight into the process of the new mobility. Political campaigning on Yap is a rather new phenomenon; it was introduced in 1968 at the time of the Yap-wide elections for representatives to the Congress of Micronesia. 228Previous to these elections, all candidates were nominated and elected locally and the process was controlled by the municipal council of chiefs. One magistrate said that his father, the previous magistrate, de­cided to step down and nominated him, his son, for the job. The coun­cil accepted the designation of the successor without question and spread the word on how the people should vote. In the 1968 election, this magistrate ran without opposition. The reason, he said, was obvious. No one else could perform as well. They would be weak, lacking the authority and prestige of his village and his title as chief of that village. At the same time he is urging his own son to get a college degree, knowing that future leadership will be dependent upon more than the traditional prestige.

Table 28. Distribution of Low-Caste Yapese in the Administrative Wage Scale

Wage ScaleAverage Yearly WageTotal Yapese EmployeesNo. Low CasteRatio
Professional
C–1—5$3000+  8  11/8
Clerical
B–9—122000+  8  00/8
B–6—81500+ 40  11/40
B–2—51000+121181/6.7
Labor
A–12—132000+  4  11/4
A–8—111500+49111/4.5
A–3—71000+68241/2.8
A–1—2  850+  7  21/3.5

The municipal council is the primary means of providing candi­date support. The municipalities of Rull and Gilman always select the candidates and victors before the election. In Rull, for example, all of the elected leaders are related through the same family genealogy in Balabat, which holds the paramount chief titles from Balabat and Ru‘way. Tamil, Weloy, and Kanfay also have powerful councils of leaders who designate candidates and winners. In other municipalities, however, youth-oriented power groups are forming new coalitions to shape municipal policy. Councils of young men in both Map and Rumung have seized power from the old men and are making policy for their municipalities. The group in Rumung went so far as to elect a young man as magistrate in order to maintain strict control over new 229economic interests and policies for the municipality. The councils of youth in Map organized around a legislator in a conflict over use of funds. They supported their own candidate for magistrate and won the election. Fanif has developed a council of young men, educated and leaders in the new sense of the word, who have been given the respon­sibility of leadership by the old men in such matters as elections. The old men feel the young are more capable of handling such decisions in the new situation. In the two other municipalities, Kanif and Gagil, fac­tions have developed around leaders in a conflict between the young men and the old council of chiefs.

These new demands and situations of conflict ultimately result in a change in the elite. New leaders arise on both municipal and Yap-wide levels. The conflict between the old chiefs and the young men is not without precedent in Yapese culture. The paramount chief in Rull stated clearly that the young men can depose the chiefs if they are un­worthy. The young men and the chiefs are bagayow, both required for power. This is adequate reason for youth factions to select an older man for their candidate for magistrate. Rumung is the outstanding exception.

A number of traditional methods are employed in a modern elec­tion, particularly in the at-large seats for which all of Yap votes. The council concept has been extended to the Yap-wide elections. One candidate reported that he was asked in 1964 by the president of the Council of Magistrates to run for the House of Representatives seat in Yap, but at the same time he was told that another candidate would win the election. He ran and lost as the council earlier had decided. In 1968 the council again asked him to run, and said that this time he would run unopposed. He did and was elected.

Another technique is the passing of shell money dakaen e tha‘ along the traditional lines of communication through the titled estates. With the shell money comes a request for support that must be hon­ored. To return the money would break a traditional relationship, so it is rarely refused. The support, however, does not have to be total, but can be partial. Thus the chiefs meet together before the election to decide how to parcel out votes to each candidate for whom they have received shell money. The traditional centers of politics in Rull, Tamil, and Gagil all exchanged shell money for the 1968 election of two at-large legislators and a senator to the Congress of Micronesia. Word was then disseminated to their subordinate villages and traditional allies to vote for such and such a candidate as had been decided by the council. One candidate from Gagil was asked to withdraw from the election after a Rull candidate sent shell money and gave a beer party for a chief 230in Gagil. The Gagil candidate excused himself, saying that it was too late to withdraw.

The low-class candidate has a decided disadvantage in running for office because he lacks access to the traditional channels. If he is going to be successful, he ideally should gain the support of the high chiefs, and this places definite limitations on mobility. The low-caste aspirant’s chances of gaining support from a high chief are very slim, as evi­denced in the example previously cited. The only candidate from a servant village to run and consequently win an election was selected by the council of old chiefs from his municipality and placed on the ballot by them. He was selected because of his skills in English and lengthy experience in public service through work in the hospital. He works with the council to decide on matters of the municipality to be brought before the legislature.

Even low-ranking high-caste individuals are at a disadvantage in Yap-wide elections, unless they work through the chiefs. One candidate from a commoner village in Weloy very likely lost the 1968 election for senator for this reason. Another candidate from a commoner village in Tamil worked as closely as possible with the chiefs to win the elec­tion. More than one candidate requested the services of a fortune teller to assist in planning a campaign.

“New” techniques also are used to gain political position. In the 1968 election, one senatorial candidate gave ten dollars to an influential chief for the purpose of purchasing drinks for an outer island chief and wooing his votes. Another senatorial candidate was aided by a friend who collected petitions from several outer islands in support of his candidacy. Campaign promises are part of the action, also. In the same election, a third senatorial candidate promised a hospital to the outer islands. A legislature candidate from Map, to gain support, promised a change in the planned routing of a road. Publicity was also important, including radio interviews and even campaign signs. One candidate from Delipebinaw used his private bar to entertain leaders who con­trolled votes. Another, from Rull, sat on a hill in the center of town, waving, getting public exposure. He also treated people to drinks in the local club in the evening. After the election he made no further appear­ance at either place.

Gaining support is very important to the rising new elite. Because of the importance of the traditional techniques and the traditional loyalties, a low-ranking person must use every means possible to win the necessary support. One of the most common ways is through the traditional leaders, who thus maintain some degree of control over mobility. The movements of organized groups of young men, however, are becoming increasingly more important in the selection of leaders. 231One such group was formed during the summer of 1970 to support the candidacies of a senator and representative to the Congress of Micro­nesia. These two men were from Gagil and Kanfay municipalities, and hoped by combining their support in northern and southern Yap, re­spectively, to swing the election in their favor. This coalition was formed to overcome the near bloc-voting pattern for local candidates that occurs in each of these areas. Should these two men continue the coalition and support candidates for other positions, the coalition will become Yap’s first political party. Both men were reelected, showing the obvious advantages of combining support.

The intense competition for seats in the Congress of Micronesia and for the at-large seats in the Yap District Legislature is obvious from the voting patterns (Table 29) in these elections. Voting choice is still based as much on traditional loyalties as on the merits of the candidate, but there are enough exceptions to create surprises. To overcome such patterns, a candidate must use every means at his disposal.

In elections for senator from Yap District, the Carolinians have consistently swung the election to the candidate of their choice. This success has drawn outer island problems increasingly to the attention of senators from Yap. Gagil has been able to maintain outer island loyalty at crucial moments on the basis of traditional ties, but even these ties provide no future security for Gagil candidates. Votes in Yap and the outer islands are increasingly difficult to control.

In summary, leadership mobility has been introduced through the formation of new political statuses and, particularly, new institutions that require new kinds of leaders with new qualifications and skills. The traditional authority group for political action, the municipal council, and the communication channels of the chiefs in the traditional tha‘, however, still control this mobility. Low-caste individuals are excluded from the new statuses, even in the American-controlled administrative structure. Low-ranking individuals in the high caste are at a particular disadvantage if they are not able to obtain chiefly support for elective positions. New methods have been devised to outflank the limitations of traditional politics, a particularly successful method has been the or­ganization of young men into municipal councils. These groups gen­erally are led by members of the new elite—legislators and officials in the administration—and they form effective organizations to shape mu­nicipal policy and support leadership candidates. Individuals are faced with new power groups and thus new choices in the selection and support of leaders. It can be concluded that conflicts of interest and new de­mands by both the people and the elite play an important role in the selection of new leaders and thereby the acceleration of leadership mobility. 232

Table 29. Election Results—Congress of Micronesia and Yap Legislature, 1968

At-Large LegislatureVotes from Yap Municipalities
RMGMAPGGLTMLFNFWLYRULDPWKNYGLMCLATotals

Ayin GGL

54   27176  77   6  12  16  9  8  4369

Defngin GGL

21   17114  81    9  13  18  4  7  9293

Falmog TML

24   52  39235  48  57  91733752708

Falaw‘ath RUL

  5     3   7  14  18  14190694050410

Grongfich MAP

28125  60  17  55  21  24  510  0345

Mangefel FNF

12  36  12  36205  60  44314130507

Tamag WLY

17  48  34  44  74117  67373510483 233
Representative
Mangefel389820155190128992561683701257
Senator

Moonfel DPW

  71022    4  4023130714568184  604

Nuuan TML

465586143  1327  20  2  5  5216  618

Tamag WLY

  53741  1314278  22  212  1105  458
SenatorVotes from Outer Islands
NGUULIWOLIFKLMTELTSATEURFASF/SYAP
Moonfel594195144111149   1516041129
Nuuan1274120030   0  9618  719
Tamag3217681228516140116114581106

note:

Abbreviations for Yap municipalities are: RMG Rumung, MAP Map, GGL Gagil, TML Tamil, FNF Fanif, WLY Weloy, RUL Rull, DPW Delipebinaw, KNY Kanfay, GLM Gilman, CLA Colonia.

Abbreviations for Outer Islands are: NGU Ngulu, ULI Ulithi, WOL Woleai, IFK Ifalik, LMT Lamotrek, ELT Elato, SAT Sata­wal, EUR Eauripik, FAS Fais, F/S Faraulep and Sorol. 234

Legitimacy, Support, and the New Elite

We have already observed the methods used to gain and maintain support for one’s candidacy to a leadership status. The next logical step is to consider these concepts in the situations of leadership and conflict. How does a leader successfully gain and maintain support through time? What factors contribute to loss of support and how do changes in legitimacy and support contribute to change in elite composition?

Case Study 1

The establishment of a new youth-oriented power structure in one municipality began in 1959 with the formation of the legislature and the selection of educated, experienced young men to represent the mu­nicipality. These young men were selected by the magistrate and the municipal council of chiefs who supported them in their new legisla­tive responsibilities. From 1959 to 1965 several young men gained legis­lative experience and achieved a new respect and skill for their decision-making and political activities. At the same time, the magistrate took little interest in the activities of the legislature or in soliciting funds for municipal projects. The young leaders developed their own ideas re­garding policy and particularly the selection and support of leadership. They became disenchanted with the static nature of the council and the magistrate, and their seeming total lack of interest in political action.

They began to take matters into their own hands. In 1966 two of the college-educated leaders in the municipality created a Young Men’s Association (YMA). Its primary functions were recreational and social, but it also provided a formal organization of youth in the municipality that crossed village and class lines and provided support and strength to young leaders in the municipality. The formation of the group was celebrated by a large party to which all of the old leaders were invited. The magistrate as usual failed to attend, living in town some distance from the municipality. The first informal political activity of the YMA occurred near the end of the year when it supported the candidacy of one of its founders in a successful campaign for senator to the Congress of Micronesia.

Shortly before a special election, called for March 1967, the young leaders met in a series of discussions regarding the lack of leadership from the magistrate of the municipality. Other municipalities were making considerable advances in the building of roads and other munici­pal projects, while their municipality remained in a state of stagnation. The magistrate was about seventy-five years old and rarely visited the municipality. When he did, he had no new positive programs to pro­pose. He refused to discuss possible programs suggested by others and 235to support the legislators from the municipality. There was no positive activity to meet the new demands of the people, which had been stimu­lated particularly by the developments in the other municipalities.

The young men chose a candidate, a middle-aged man from the leading village, who was living at the time in another village nearby. He met the criteria of rank and tradition, lacking only an important title. He was educated, with a long history of working with Americans and of holding a leadership position in programs for adult education. The magistrates and the municipal council determined the election slate, so his name was not entered on the ballot. Instead the youthful men, through the YMA, mounted a write-in campaign.

Just before the election a representative of the young leaders met with members of the YMA and persuaded them that the municipality needed a new magistrate. On the eve of the election all of the young men were asked to talk to their parents and friends, urging them to write in the name of their candidate for magistrate. The timing was excellent, support was overwhelming, and the candidate was elected almost unanimously.

The new magistrate was as active as the previous one had been lackadaisical. He started several community projects, such as movies on weekends at the school, collection of money to buy a movie projector for the municipality, community gardening and other projects by the women’s club. With the opening of the legislative session in May, he sought and was instrumental in obtaining funds for improvement of roads and a causeway in the municipality. He also was able to obtain assistance from the administration for the resolution of municipal prob­lems. Community development funds were made available for the con­struction of a recreation field for the YMA.

At the same time seeds of discontent were beginning to grow. While the previous magistrate had been so aloof as to lose support, the new magistrate too often permitted self-interest to interfere with mu­nicipal interests. Administration of funds for the causeway construction and repair was tainted by the disappearance of a certain amount of money. The new magistrate became involved in a public dispute with a Peace Corps teacher over a proposal to use the projector fund for another purpose. After a typhoon, administration support was obtained to clear the road down to his house in village B, but the road to highest-ranking village A, and debris in other areas, were left to those villagers to clear out. More importantly, he operated very much as a one-man team. While the previous magistrate had done almost nothing, what he did do was done in the prescribed manner through the council. This magistrate was very active, but consulted chiefly with his younger sup­porters and did very little through the municipal council. The old 236magistrate was not unaware of the growing discontent and quietly added fuel to the fire.

In the meantime, new officers had been elected for the YMA and a member of village B had been elected president. Disputes over leader­ship followed, aggravated by certain individuals from village A who felt that no one from lower-ranking village B should tell them what to do. Bad feeling grew between the young members of these two vil­lages, reinforced by a long history of rivalry and conflict. The new magistrate’s residence in B and his support of relatives there became a matter of talk for the old magistrate and the people of A.

The crisis in leadership came when the May 1968 session of the legislature appropriated several thousand dollars for the municipal office. The municipal office had become a prestige symbol in Yap, with several municipalities boasting concrete block structures of considerable size and emptiness. The decision on where to place the office was cru­cial, since the location boosted not only municipal prestige, but village prestige as well. Several locations were considered: near the school; up on the hill; on a men’s house site in village A; and on a men’s house site in village B. All were fairly central within the municipality, with the school site and the B site having the further advantage of being on the main road.

Several municipal meetings were held to decide on the site. The old magistrate argued for two sites in A, the men’s house site or the school site. The new magistrate argued for the site in B. A test of will and support ensued between the old and the new magistrates and be­tween the people of A and B. After several meetings and vacillation between one site and another, the new magistrate brought the district administrator, the president of the legislature, and the chairman of the legislative committee on appropriations to investigate the sites and offer their opinions. With the new magistrate, they visited the sites in A and B and decided that the good road to and the spacious area around the B site made it superior to the muddy and mosquito-ridden site in A. With such strong external support, the new magistrate won a conces­sion to his site in B. Many people, however, were dissatisfied and un­happy. He had antagonized not only the people in A, but other villagers as well who resented his pushing for a site in B. The old magistrate and the people from A complained that the building was being placed in a second-ranked village. The most important factor, however, was the refusal of the new magistrate to concede in this very important matter of prestige to those people who had supported him en masse.

The magistrate, attempting to preempt further opposition, ordered the building supplies and the immediate commencement of the initial construction. Certain of the young leaders from B supported him, say­ing 237that the money would be lost if they did not begin. At the same time, working with his usual single-handedness, he made a very impor­tant tactical error. He neglected to follow tradition and request per­mission to use the land from the traditional suwon ‘overseer’ and chief of the men’s house site. The overseer at first followed the custom of complaining to villagers and waiting for an apology from the magis­trate. The magistrate doggedly refused, however, stating that the land belonged to the village and could be used as it desired, in this case for a municipal office. The overseer then became very angry, and being rebuffed by villagers as well as the magistrate, proceeded to complain to the old magistrate. The old magistrate, who was a judge, observed the situation as an excellent chance to discredit the new magistrate and to reverse the decision of the office site. He encouraged the overseer to obtain a court order stopping construction and to sue for damages to his land. The overseer, with the aid of the judge and former magistrate, filed such a complaint, and obtained a court order to stop the work.

At this point, the magistrate realized his trouble and requested as­sistance from the village leaders in B. Sixty dollars and a valuable piece of shell money were collected from the people in B and sent to the overseer as an apology along with a request for forgiveness and support. At the same time, the magistrate ordered that the work continue into the concrete-pouring stage so that the site could not be changed. The overseer was not to be bought off. He took the sixty dollars and re­fused the shell money, returning it and thus refusing the apology. The return of shell money was a serious breach of customary behavior; it was a declaration of war to be carried on in the court, and for all prac­tical purposes, a renunciation of his village, which was almost totally aligned against him and with the magistrate.

After delays, a summons was delivered to the laborers and magis­trate to answer charges against them for trespassing and malicious de­struction of property. A damage suit for $3,000 was filed against them. The case was to be judged by an associate and friend of the old magis­trate, who had disqualified himself from the proceedings. The new magistrate had obtained an attorney to defend himself and the laborers. On the first day of the court proceedings, the hearing on the trespassing case was postponed, allowing further construction on the building. In the meantime, the magistrate had requested assistance from the presi­dent of the Council of Magistrates and the traditional chiefs in Tamil. The overseer was very suspicious, saying that the magistrate was an accomplished liar and very tricky. The magistrate expressed great con­cern that his reputation was being ruined and asked if a law suit could be filed for such damages. The intent of the plea to Tamil was to settle the case out of court through the arbitration of traditional chiefs. The 238chiefs in Tamil were traditional adversaries of A and supporters and overlords of B. They argued that they were the highest overseer of the site in question and complained at not being consulted in the first place, according to their traditional right to approve building plans. The president of the council and the magistrate from Tamil represented the chiefs and tried to persuade the overseer to meet the chiefs outside of court and resolve the case. The overseer refused, by now quite pleased at the prospect of collecting $3,000 in damages.

On the day of the new hearing, the charges were presented and the overseer called to the witness stand. He was first questioned by the Yapese prosecutor and stated his case. Then he was subjected to a very grueling cross-examination by the Yapese attorney for the defense. At this point, his confidence began to wane. Old men are not, in traditional situations, subjected to cross-examinations and badgerings. Later he was further shaken by the filing of a countersuit, charging him with false claims to ownership of the land and a request of $5,000 in dam­ages by the “rightful” owners. His actual status toward the land was questionable, and although he was the rightful mafen ‘trustee’, this further shook his confidence. He later agreed to settle the case outside of court.

The overseer was quite unhappy about this decision, but the pres­sure of Tamil chiefs, his kinsmen, and people from village B was so great that he consented. The court proceedings were dismissed with the understanding that further work on the building would stop until a formal settlement could be made in the village, through the arbitration of the chiefs from Tamil.

On the night of the settlement, the Tamil chiefs arrived at the con­struction site in village B. Beer, shell money, and stone money were brought by the chiefs of B for the Tamil chiefs, but the overseer failed to appear. The chiefs from Tamil were angry at this discourtesy and immediately decided in favor of the village and the magistrate. They received gifts from B and then presented two pieces of shell money and a piece of stone money named Gamow. They said that construction of the building should resume the following day and that from here on the matter would be closed. They reemphasized that they had highest over­seer rights over the land.

The magistrate won the battle but lost the war. His judgement about his reputation was correct: it had been severely damaged, and his support beyond village B was almost totally lost. A compromise would have pleased the municipality, but he chose rather to please his village of residence. The roof was placed on the building, but funds ran out until the next fiscal year. In November of 1968 he lost the election to 239the old magistrate. Two factions had developed in the municipality around these two leaders and between the villages of A and B.

The overseer has not returned to village B, except for a few hours, since the court case was dismissed. He is an outcast, rejected as a village leader. Traditional lines of communication between villages A and B have been shattered. In 1969 two other court cases erupted as by-pro­ducts of this factionalism. In one instance two boys residing in A broke into a girl’s house in B, were identified and taken to court for trespass­ing and assault. A plea for leniency and settlement out of court was sent on the tho‘ from A to B, but the shell money was returned, and the offenders sent to prison. A few months later a youth from B was in­volved in a knife fight with a man from A when both were drunk. The incident was taken to court, and the youth from B was charged with assault with a deadly weapon. Village A refused a plea from B for leniency and settlement out of court. The municipal building is still unfinished and the old magistrate would not complete it in any case. He is as inactive as before, but the factionalism seems to assure his power.

A number of important features of the case above shed light on the dynamics of legitimacy and support. First it is a situation of conflict and struggle for power and prestige between two leaders and two sup­porting villages. The old magistrate held traditional title and power, the new magistrate held the support of the young leaders. Success in the struggle depends upon support from the other associated villages in the municipality traditionally allied with the village of the old magistrate.

Initial support for the new magistrate was obtained in large part through his association with and selection for candidacy to the position by already successful leaders. This selection responded to the unsatisfied demands of the people in the municipality for active leadership bene­ficial to the community. His legitimacy as a candidate rested in his position as a landowner in the leading village of the municipality, his age, and his status as an experienced leader in the American adminis­tration.

After his election, he employed various methods to maintain sup­port in the community. One of the first of these was economic. Work­ing with the legislators, the magistrate was able to fund and administer a number of community projects. Jobs were distributed to members of different villages for work on these projects, and other jobs were ob­tained for the youth in the community. The magistrate also saw to it that economic assistance was provided for such things as a ball field or clean-up after a typhoon. He encouraged and supported social activi­ties. 240This included attendance at parties and church, making and plan­ning club projects for the women, and the institution of movie nights at the schools.

Even more critical, in this case, are the methods not used to gain support, and the means of losing support. One important means of gaining support in Yap is the sharing of power, decision-making, and responsi­bility through consultation with advisors and the council. Another is the recognition and use of traditional channels such as the council or the tha‘. This was most clearly illustrated in the reaction of the Tamil chiefs to village recognition of their authority. Both of these elements are capable of providing powerful means of support, but were to some extent ignored by the new magistrate. To ignore these accepted institu­tions for political action is a sure way to lose support, as was observed in this case.

Support also was lost through faulty impression management and nepotism. The magistrate’s mismanagement of funds, personal domi­nance of meetings, and pressure for support of personal decisions all contributed to an impression of sneaky, high-handed, and self-interested behavior that raised serious questions about his personal qualifications as a leader.

Loss of legitimacy and support may be tied directly to unsatisfied demands. The old magistrate failed to meet the economic and per­sonality demands of his constituents, while the new magistrate failed to meet personality and political demands. Because both men failed to meet the expectations of their constituents, they were subsequently removed from office through the elective process. However, the leader who had undoubtedly done the most for the people was defeated for reelection in favor of the earlier inactive leader. A useful explanation for this phenomenon lies in the transactional nature of support. The activities of the old magistrate were limited and thus disappointment and dissatisfaction were limited, because the potential rewards for sup­port were small. The size of the accomplishments of the new magis­trate, however, created much greater expectations. While he was ob­viously unable to spread the economic rewards beyond their inherent limitations, he created the impression that he had not spread them far enough by distributing them among his family and friends. Further­more, he did not share the political responsibilities or credits for the municipal programs, and many subordinate leaders felt cheated and disenchanted. Their personal efforts to provide almost unanimous sup­port for his candidacy were considered wasted by a majority of those supporters. Finally, the decision to place the municipal office in B de­nied a certain prestige to all other villages and leaders of the municipal­ity 241and created an issue around which the old magistrate could reassert himself.

In conclusion, it may be argued from these data that legitimacy may be defined in terms of objective criteria for leadership and ex­pectations of impression management. Should the leader prove deficient in either of these aspects, support of him will be challenged. The seri­ousness of the challenge will depend upon the intensity of such expec­tations and upon other factors of support. Support may be defined as transactional relationships between individuals, in this case leaders and followers in the political field. Following Levi-Strauss (1944), there is a balance of prestations, privileges, services, and obligations between the leader and the group or individual members of the group. Levi-Strauss argues that consent is the only measure of leadership legitimacy for the Nambikuara. I would extend this argument to say that consent is based upon a satisfactory balance of transactions between leaders and fol­lowers, with both feeling they have somehow achieved a cumulative gain in the process. It is obvious from the case above that neither leader had effectively met the transactional expectations of their constituents, but the balance of transactions was less satisfactory under the leadership of the new magistrate than under that of the old.

Finally, both the present and traditional aspects of the political field employ the transactional model of support. A traditional chief was also subject to withdrawal of support and even deposition from his land and authority. In both spheres of the political field, legitimacy and support are primary factors in maintaining or changing the compo­sition of the elite.

Leadership and the Decision-making Process

Demands, Strategies, Rules, and Payoffs

Two significant problems remain to be considered: the procedures for reaching decisions and the nature of choice in the decision-making process. The concepts of demands, strategies, rules, and payoffs are useful in the analysis of decision-making procedures. Decisions in the political field are basically policy responses to demands of individuals and groups. It is useful to divide demands into two categories: 1) the primary demands of the decision situation, that is, the question at hand, and 2) the secondary demands of status, legitimacy, maintenance of support, obligations of support, factors of power and authority, pres­tige, and other potential payoffs.

The second area of consideration is the possible strategies present 242in the decision situation. What are alternative solutions to the primary demands? What alternative means may accomplish the different solu­tions? Finally, what are the implications of these alternatives for the various secondary demands?

The third area of consideration is regime, or the rules of the game. What are the bounds of legitimate action in the decision-making situa­tion, and how are they specified in the culture? Who may make de­cisions, that is, are they individuals, groups, occupants of particular statuses? What are the specifications of authority and leadership in the decision situation and what are the methods (rules of order, impression management) for supporting or rejecting alternatives as specified in the rules?

Finally, what is the decision or the payoff? How are the primary and secondary demands satisfied? Does the decision meet the criteria of legitimacy, and draw support from those affected by it? How is the decision implemented or enforced?

The study of conflict and resolution is one area in which decision-making procedures are readily observed. Case study 1 again provides insights into the political process. The precipitation of crisis occurred with the decision to build the municipal office in a particular village. The primary demands were those made by conflicting interest groups attempting to influence the decision in favor of their particular choice. Secondary demands included the potential prestige of the village win­ning the office and the concomitant loss of potential prestige by others, legitimacy and support of the magistrate in bringing the conflicting groups to a decision satisfactory to all the groups, and the magistrate’s obligations to his supporters.

The decision question was “Where shall we put the building?” and the situation yielded four alternatives: in village A, in village B, by the school, or on the hill. When the choice of a site became a matter of personal influence between the old and new magistrates, selection of a site in either village A or B would have been a defeat for one and a victory for the other. The third choice of a site by the school would provide a semivictory for the old magistrate, since the school, although centrally located, was also in his village. The last alternative, on the hill, was considered physically inconvenient for the majority of people in the municipality and thus unacceptable.

The recognized authority for making the decision is the magistrate in consultation with the municipal council. The rules for decision-mak­ing include an initial presentation of ideas, and then strategic discussion and compromise until consensus is reached. Leaders in the high-ranking villages are most influential and most talkative. Support may be gained 243through compromise solutions or through influence of prestigious leaders. Legitimacy is achieved through consensus support.

The decision favored the alternative giving personal victory to the magistrate. The council made the choice under heavy pressure of the new magistrate, with certain influential leaders absent. The decision satisfied the secondary demands of the magistrate’s village and certain of his own personal evaluations of payoff. Other interest groups were totally dissatisfied, requirements of legitimacy and support were un­satisfied, but the magistrate felt he would be able to implement the de­cision and overcome these objections. His evaluation was erroneous however, and he lost his position because of his poor judgement.

The resolution of the land-use conflict shows another set of pro­cedures for making decisions. The conflict between the overseer and the magistrate and the subsequent steps toward resolution are shown below.

MagistrateSuwon ‘Overseer’

1. Complaint of wrongdoing

2. Justification of right

3. Mobilization of support, court threat

4. Shell money plea

5. Refusal, filing court order

6. Refused court order

7. Filed damages suit

8. Mobilized traditional pressure of Tamil

9. Resisted pressure, pushing suit

10. Mobilized defense and countersuit

11. Resistance shaken

12. Required traditional settlement

13. Accepted under pressure

14. Formal traditional puruy held

15. Nonrecognition

16. Decision won

The most interesting aspect of these strategic moves to settle the dis­pute is the continual shifting from traditional to modern procedures for decision and conflict resolution. The overseer made the initial move in hopes of a traditional apology. When the legitimacy of his complaint was challenged and then ignored, he turned to the American court for support to reverse the decision. The magistrate then turned to the tra­ditional wenig ‘plea’ to stop the court action. This move received the same treatment originally given the overseer, rejection as illegitimate. A series of moves and countermoves followed with the magistrate pres­suring to move back into traditional channels and the overseer resisting. The crucial shift occurred when the magistrate turned to an aggressive defense attorney who was able to demoralize the overseer with a com­pletely untraditional and somewhat vicious cross-examination. The 244overseer then agreed to settle out of court and in effect conceded to the magistrate.

This use of nontraditional introduced procedures for making de­cisions is becoming increasingly more common as demands change. The Yapese quite often move from one technique to another as the situation seems to require. The following case study illustrates how a similar problem is resolved at two different points in time using different pro­cedures, and how the decision-making process changes with the par­ticipants and with individual knowledge and skills.

Case Study 2

One of the objectives of the Trust Territory government is “to establish effective legislative, executive and judicial institutions of ter­ritorial and local government; develop Micronesian participation in policy making and planning processes of government; and broaden in­formation and political education programs” (Norwood n.d.).

Early in the history of the civil administration planning was begun for the development of a Yap Islands Legislature. The Yapese Council of Magistrates was given the task of deciding what form of legislature they desired. They were not given the choice as to whether they should or should not have such an institution. The primary demands for the decision situation originated with the dominant American adminis­tration.

Two basic options were presented to the council: 1) to reorganize the council into a legislature, or 2) to form a new legislature, apart from the council. The first choice would deprive the council of execu­tive power, the second of legislative power. The magistrates were faced with the problem of determining the implications of these alternatives for various secondary demands, such as their status, legitimacy, and support. The most critical issues revolved around the power of ap­propriating funds and the administration of appropriations.

The magistrates’ decision-making procedures were derived from the traditional culture. A committee was appointed to study the alter­natives. Its duties were to present the ideas, to discuss thoroughly their implications, and to report to the council. The council made the de­cision. A majority vote was not part of the decision process, either in committee procedures or in council. Issues were discussed and ex­plained until everyone understood and agreed, at least publicly. Dis­agreement and discussion were couched in carefully worded statements, so as not to offend another member of the council. Serious disagree­ment resulted in stalemate, and the issue was set aside until a more opportune time. The deciding of issues often was determined by the 245influence of a highly respected cadre of leaders whose opinions gen­erally were stated first.

In 1957, after two years of debate, stalemate, and delay, District Administrator Robert Halvorsen pushed the organization of a special review committee to make recommendations. In the next few months, the committee met, reviewed, but failed to proceed further.

… more definitive action by the committee and council appears to have been lacking because of uncertainty of proposed code changes which might affect the status and functioning of the pres­ent, recognized and functioning organization. The main points of difficulty came in changes of local government finance and ad­ministration. (Yap District, Office of Political Affairs, Political and Social Development File 1958)

The authority to allocate funds and particularly to administer their use at the local level was a powerful instrument for maintaining sup­port and prestige. Magistrates were exceedingly reluctant to give up these authority assignments, and the American definition of a legislative government specifically required that the powers of appropriation of funds and administration of funds be separated. The basic options pre­sented by American administrators to the Yapese are shown in Table 30.

Table 30. Options for Organizing a Legislature (1958)

OPTIONS
Reorganization to legislatureContinuation of council
Innovations
required
New municipal government
New executive officials
New statuses for council
New legislature
New legislative officials
Council
retains
Old officials
Legislative authority
Traditional status
Old officials
Executive authority
Council
loses
Traditional status
Executive authority
New status
Legislative authority

The magistrates had to evaluate the implications for themselves of alternatives of choice originating from a dominant culture and cov­ering an area in which they had no previous experience. Their evalua­tion and choice was made on the basis of their experience and the strategic restraints (values, status, etc.) of their culture. The council 246chose to form a new legislature and to maintain the council as an executive body, because in the system of traditional values, executive power is worth more in prestige than legislative power. The chief gives the word, the council merely supports the chief. But the choice was complicated further by the American assignment of financial allocation to the legislative branch. The magistrates were well aware of the gains in prestige and support to be acquired through allocation of funds. The option desired most, but not offered by Americans, was to retain both legislative and executive functions in the council. The councilmen stalled as long as possible, rejected totally the idea of new municipal charters, and finally opted for a new legislature, with the council re­taining the more prestigious executive powers.

In 1968, the sequel to this decision followed, when the Yap Islands Legislature established a District and Municipal Government Study Commission. Ten years after the magistrates chose to retain executive power for themselves, the legislators were making the decisions regard­ing the formal characteristics of Yapese government. The magistrates, many of whom were in office in 1958, lament their loss of power and their present status as employees of the legislature. Were they able to reenact their decisions of 1958, the outcome might be different as new experience has taught them the considerable power of the legislative branch, for the major policy-making powers have passed to the legislature.

The formation of the 1968 commission was once more a response to outside demands, this time the result of a request from the Trust Territory administration and the Congress of Micronesia that all peoples in Yap District be represented in a district legislature. The Yapese legis­lators felt that they should hurry and decide what kind of government they wanted before some outside group decided it for them.

The members of the commission included the president and vice-president of the legislature, two legislators, a special assistant to the dis­trict administrator, three magistrates, a judge, and the American Peace Corps lawyer appointed by the district administrator. Special guests to the meetings included the political affairs officer from the administra­tion, a senator from the Congress of Micronesia, and another Peace Corps lawyer who was designated secretary of the commission.

The first order of business was to decide upon the form and repre­sentation of a district legislature, the second to decide upon a form of municipal government. The procedures of the commission were adopted from Robert’s Rules of Order, and all decisions were made on the basis of majority vote rather than consensus. The Peace Corps lawyers tended to lead the discussions and to formulate the alternatives, but re­frained from voting on decisions as much as possible. 247

Most of the discussion regarding the legislature centered on repre­sentation from Yap and the outer islands. Problem areas concentrated on the number of representatives from Yap proper and how they should be selected—on the basis of municipality, at large, population, or combinations of these. The commission, after prolonged discussion of nine possible options, shown in Table 31, decided in favor of ten elected representatives from the respective municipalities of Yap, two from Yap-at-large, and six from the outer islands. The decisions revolved around problems of the legislature’s size and expense; equal representa­tion for large and small municipalities; adequate representation of the three outer island divisions and yet retaining a balance of power in Yap, which would provide the major tax support; and representation of the three largest municipalities in Yap: Gagil, Tamil, Rull, without undue influence by Gagil through its traditional ties to the outer islands.

Table 31. Possible Representative Alternatives for a Yap District Legislature

Alternatives
Proposed Total MembershipLegislators fromRatio Yap/Outer Islands
Yap MunicipalitiesYap at-LargeOuter Islands
1. 1610—662.5/37.5
2. 20102860/40
3. 20103764/36
4. 22104863.6/36.4
5. 24105962.5/37.5
6. 21103862/38
7. 18101761/39
8. 19102763/37
9. 18102666/33
Decisions
A.#4,5,6;Rejected because of large size and thus expense.
Upper limit of 20 agreed upon by a 6–2 vote.
B.#1:Rejected by a 3–4 vote. Unit too small, with equal representa­tion for large and small municipalities.
C.Decided that Yap District Legislature have either 12 or 13 members from Yap, 2 or 3 at-large seats. 7–0 vote.
D.#8,2:Eliminated on grounds of outer island representation being too large, or not fitting the three areas of outer islands.
E.#9:Selected over #3 by 4–3 vote. Conflict arose between the value of 3 at-large seats in Yap, and value of 7 or 6 seats in the outer islands. 248

The second order of business, municipal government, proved the most controversial. The first decision concerned the scope of municipal government, or the basic political boundaries to be established for an effective municipal system. Table 32 shows the alternatives considered, the areas of discussion, and the decisions reached. The secondary de­mands, the advantages and disadvantages of each alternative, were de­fined by the American lawyers and accepted as legitimate by legislators and other nontraditional leaders on the commission. The lawyers high­lighted the problems of finances and available funds, ease of administra­tion, and the precedent of the district format for the legislature. These arguments precipitated the initial decision for a unified district munici­pal government. No one thought to raise the obvious traditional con­siderations, such as different languages, cultures, and spheres of interest and authority, until the Trust Territory attorney general notified the commission that a unified district municipal government was uncon­stitutional. Then the dissenting minority raised its voice and called the “question” for reconsideration. The commission with little other choice reversed its position deciding for separate Yap and outer island munici­pal governments.

Table 32. Alternative Boundaries for Municipal Government

Alternatives considered

#1. Combined municipal/district government

#2. Yap Islands municipal government and X number of outer island municipalities and governments

#3. Ten chartered municipalities in Yap and X number of outer island municipalities

Decision

a. #3 unanimously eliminated

Discussion
American lawyer listed advantages and disadvantages of #1 and #2
#1 Advantages

1. Combined municipal/district government

2. Smallest, simplest, cheapest

3. Easier—one district, one government, one policy

4. Adequate finances, fewer money problems

#1 Disadvantages

1. Too central, not local

2. Requires extension of magistrate system to outer islands

3. Local taxes, mostly from Yap, would be spread over district

#2 Advantages

1. Incorporates magistrates in new government

2. Yap controls own needs

3. Funds collected in Yap will be spent in Yap

4. New leadership and self-government in outer islands

#2 Disadvantages

1. Lack of funds

2. Expensive

3. Increases proliferation of government

4. Outer islands may not be ready for new leadership

Decision

b. #2 rejected by a 3–3 vote. #1 accepted by a 4–2 vote

249
Discussion

a. Alternative solutions to role of Council of Magistrates presented by lawyer

1. Disband council

2. Maintain council and outer island representatives in advisory capacity without pay

3. Same as above, but with small pay or per diem

b. Dispatch received from Trust Territory attorney general rejecting #1 as unconstitutional. Discussion: President of legislature suggested outer islands would prefer one chartered government for the whole district

c. A magistrate noted two problems with one chartered government:

1. two languages and cultures make cooperation difficult at times

2. the problem of the present council of magistrates would have to be resolved

d. President of legislature suggested that present council could become municipal legislative body, retaining a similar structure to present body.

e. Clarifying statement was requested from lawyer-secretary to

1. simplify governing of district

2. provide Yap control over her internal problems and outer islands control over their internal problems, but share overall policy in district legislature

Question

Why have district legislature and then divide into municipal governments?

Answer

Separation of powers—the way it is done in the United States

Decision

Previous decision withdrawn and #2 accepted as basic plan for municipal government by a 5–1 vote 250

The next major question concerned alternative organizational forms for a Yap municipal government. The lawyers introduced a number of possible forms and asked members of the commission to select the two they liked most. By this method they narrowed the question to three alternatives shown in Table 33.

Table 33. Alternative Organization Forms for Yap Municipal Government

Alternatives considered
#1.

a. New legislative body formed from present Yap Council of Magistrates

b. Executive—Yap Islands mayor elected at large

#2.

a. New legislative body called Yap Islands Assembly, council dis­banded

b. Executive—Yap Islands mayor elected at large

#3.

a. New legislative body called Yap Islands Assembly

b. Executive—Yap Islands mayor elected at large

c. Yap Council of Magistrates—advisors to mayor and assembly

Discussion

1. Senator suggests that council could be legislative body and then work for the mayor in the municipalities

2. Legislator suggests a possible conflict of interest between assembly­men who both make and enforce laws

3. Magistrate suggests that the mayor may not be supported by people from municipalities other than his

Decision
A.motion to accept #2 failed in 4–2–2 vote
B.popularity poll of three choices taken ………#1—0 votes
#2—4 votes
#3—1 vote
—3 abstentions
C.#1 eliminated 5–1–2 vote
D.Popularity poll of two choices …………….#2—5 votes
#3—0 votes
—3 abstentions
E.#2 accepted 6–1–1 vote251

The secondary demands or issues in this case centered on the Council of Magistrates. No member of the commission felt that the council was capable of reorganization into a municipal legislative body or that it was appropriate to attempt it. Nor did they find it necessary to retain the council as an advisory body. At the same time, they did not find satisfactory solutions to the problems of legislation and ad­ministration in the options considered. Problems of new statuses, au­thority assignments, support, and reward were ambiguous and unde­fined, and no one could offer further elaboration on the implications. The members voted, as shown in Table 33, but could not reach a con­sensus decision.

Commission members were dissatisfied and undecided, but the voting method of parliamentary procedure forced them to approve something. The discussions revealed much more of the thinking of the members than the votes. They discussed the variation of population in municipalities and dismissed it as unimportant. They argued that each municipality had had one vote in previous forms of government and the same should hold for the new. Relying even more on the past, one member defined the “new assembly” in terms very much like the council. Since the assemblymen would be busy with their municipal duties, each should have a secretary (as do magistrates) to help him. If two assemblymen were elected from one munici­pality it would in effect create two equal-ranking chiefs and this would not fit tradition. Others countered this argument, saying secre­taries were not economical. The municipal government would not have enough money to pay all of those people adequately without ap­propriating all of its money for salaries.

The commission decided salaries, officers, and certain other formal characteristics of the new municipal assembly in a hasty, rather disin­terested fashion. They submitted their decisions and copies of the pro­ceedings to the legislature for consideration and final adoption or re­jection.

The legislature approved the commission’s recommendations for a district legislature, changing the composition to 12/8, upon request from the outer islands to meet the 60/40 population ratio. The munici­pality question fomented the same uncertainty in the legislature as it had in the commission, with the council lobbying firmly against the commission’s recommendations, and in typical Yapese fashion, was tabled, to be settled at a more convenient time, after considerable thought and some observation as to the functioning of the new district legislature. At the same time, a committee was created to study the functions of the Council of Magistrates. 252

The Nature of Leadership Choice and Decision-making

Arenas of Decision and Choice

Decisions have been defined as policy responses to the demands of individuals and groups. The demands of a decision situation originate from and are considered at different levels or arenas in the political field. This is an important consideration, for each distinctive arena may define different strategic considerations and methods of action for similar kinds of decisions. For example, building construction may be the focus of political action and decision at the estate, village, munici­pality, and Yap-wide levels. Each level has its own specified leadership statuses, methods of succession, authority assignments, rules of de­cision-making, and standards of legitimacy. Leadership at each level also includes specific interaction relationships with leaders at other levels. In the construction of the municipal office of Case study 1, participa­tion was required of leaders at the Yap-wide level to appropriate the funds, and at the village level to mobilize support and supply labor. The precipitation of conflict occurred between a village chief and the magistrate. The resolution of conflict required participation of munici­pal leaders, Yap-wide leaders from the Council of Magistrates, tradi­tional chiefs from another municipality, and the foreign-instituted, but Yapese-led court. The principal arena of the decision situation defines the basic framework of decision-making, but does not and cannot ex­clude interaction with other elements in the political field.

The Nature of Demands

We have also noted the different primary and secondary levels of demands, both of which may be derived from the separate contexts of tradition and change. The primary demands or decision questions fre­quently are derived from new external pressures from the dominant contact group. The stated objectives of the American administration are to bring about directed changes and development in the areas of politics, economics, health and community welfare, and education. These objectives obviously imply the development of new political and social forms, new statuses and institutions. At the same time, the Yapese people are developing new wants, personal and group wants, derived from the continual contact with outsiders. A municipal office becomes an important new prestige object and symbol. These new wants are placed in the context of other more traditional demands (such as social control, mitmit, men’s houses, and selection of leaders) and become important in the decision-making process.

Secondary demands likewise incorporate new and old considera­tions 253of status, authority, prestige, legitimacy, and support. The defini­tions of other factors such as natural restraints within the cultural ecosystem and political rewards or payoffs are expanded or changed. Both of the cases considered illustrate this point. The magistrate’s case was defined largely in traditional terms, emphasizing traditional village loyalties, leadership behavior, and limited land areas actually suited to the cultural demands of the project. Certain secondary demands—money, and power outside of the council—were derived from new wants. The second case of decisions regarding forms of government illustrated how leaders occupying different statuses and different posi­tions in time view the same demands in a different light. The magis­trates who first decided on the formation of a legislature in 1958 based their decisions on traditional interpretations of secondary demands. The members of the commission of 1968 included legislators, administrators, and magistrates with ten years of experience dealing with a legislature. A number of new considerations were obvious. One of these was limited finances. Others included the valuation of the power of the magistrates’ position and of the power of legislators, new sources of power, new sources of prestige, and new sources of support.

Another illustration of the implications of one’s status in decision-making was observed in the conflict and discussion about merging the Outer Islands High School with Yap High School. One young legisla­tor argued strongly for the merger on grounds of finances, quality of education, supply of qualified teachers, nonduplication of facilities, and other factors fully supporting the American education officer’s position. In contrast, an old chief and judge argued that each major atoll should be given a separate high school, regardless of cost, and that merger was out of the question. The differences between the two opinions stem from status, experience, and individual loyalties. The chief was repre­senting his traditional status as “father” to the outer island groups and making his judgements on the basis of traditional ecological and cul­tural specifications, such as unique atoll identity, distance and cluster of atolls, and interisland socioeconomic dependencies. The legislator was representing his status with its responsibilities for leadership in de­velopment and change. He defined the situation in terms of present cultural and ecological limitations (limited finance, logistics, unneces­sary duplication of physical plant and personnel) for present objectives. Both were concerned about their particular status expectations and sup­port from their constituents. Elite responsibility and communication to constituents are very important secondary demands, but the definition of action to be taken rests very heavily on the individual’s conception of his status and responsibilities. 254

Strategic Alternatives for Choice

The strategies of the decision situation are another important con­sideration in analyzing the nature of choice and decision. The alternate arenas of political action are very important in strategic considerations. A construction project at the different levels of estate, village, munici­pality, or Yap-wide entails different alternatives. Resources and labor are derived from different sources. Mobilization is managed by differ­ent leadership statuses and support is gained through alternate methods. At the level of the estate, kinship provides the primary obligations for gathering of resources, labor, and other support, and for supplying direction or leadership. In the village, both kinship and political re­ciprocity are important, while on the municipal and Yap-wide levels, the primary alternatives for support are found in institutionalized channels such as the Municipal Council, the Yap Islands Council, the District Legislature, the American administration, and the traditional leadership statuses, authority assignments, and transactional alliances.

Within each arena or level for political action are found certain alternate approaches or choices for the decision question. Organiza­tional alternatives are found within the traditional structures. One ex­ample of this was the definition of the American-instituted position of magistrate in terms of traditional statuses and structures. The traditional definitions of arena were extended logically to the new land unit of the municipality and the magistrate status was defined in terms similar to those for a traditional chief. Another example is found in the resolu­tion of conflict regarding the new municipal office. The concept of municipal office was derived from the change situation, but the conflict about its location was resolved through traditional channels and pro­cedures.

New strategic alternatives are designated or derived from the change situation. The traditional chief of the men’s house site chose the court and a damage suit as the means to achieve his objectives. The process of election is used to depose a traditional leader no longer acceptable. The site of a municipal office is chosen on the basis of such factors as roads and schools, rather than on the traditional requirements of village rank.

The kinds of strategic alternatives are specified by the arena of choice and by the concerns of the participants in the decision-making process. Choice occurs through the weighing of the alternatives in the light of concomitant implications for the primary and secondary de­mands of the decision situation.

Procedures for Decision-making

The rules or procedures in decision-making have strong implica­tions for maintaining legitimacy and support. The examples above show 255that alternate rules also exist and may be applied when making de­cisions. The traditional rules emphasize council and consensus—a time-consuming process including the meeting or wearing down of opposi­tion until consensus and thus legitimacy is assured. The new rules of committee organization and parliamentary procedure are time-efficient, overruling the opposition, but sacrificing legitimacy and support as they are traditionally defined. An example in Fanif was observed in which a council of young men met with the magistrate to decide on a candidate for legislator-at-large. Discussions and proposals were con­sidered through several meetings but consensus was impossible. Too many of the potential candidates were part of the council. The magis­trate unsuccessfully proposed a vote several times during the meetings. At last, unable to make a decision, the group told the magistrate that he should decide who the candidate would be and the council would sup­port him fully. The significance of this tactic lay in the implications for support. A vote would have divided the council and weakened support. A different kind of consensus was reached, that is, the council would support whatever decision that its leader, the magistrate, made.

The application of different rules of procedure varies with the de­cision situation and the requirements for support. In the legislature, Robert’s Rules of Order set the standard for decision-making. How­ever, should an issue arise against which there is an obviously strong opposition, although not necessarily one in the majority, a careful count of votes will not be made, and the bill would be “defeated.” It has been observed that when voice votes are taken and the “Nos” are rather numerous and loud, the bill fails, regardless of the actual count. Decisions in the Council of Magistrates are handled most often in the traditional manner.

Evaluation, Choice, and Payoff

The act of choice or decision and the concomitant payoffs con­stitute this whole gamut of variables and restrictions. Political choice by current Yapese leaders first of all is restricted by the limitations of their statuses and by the reorganized procedures and impression be­havior appropriate for an occupant of a particular status. The individ­ual leader then is beset by rigorous problems of evaluation. He must assess the primary and secondary demands of the situation, particularly with regard to his own position. He must evaluate the strategic alterna­tives, both traditional and modern, which are found in the specific arena, and then reach a decision within certain predetermined rules and restraints, culminating in choice and implementation and/or payoff. The accuracy of his evaluation has crucial significance for the legiti­macy, support, and implementation of the decision. For example, the 256magistrate in Case 1, having reached a decision which he felt most rewarding to himself and his supporters, found it nearly impossible to implement and ultimately it cost him his status as a leader. The decision by the District and Municipal Government Study Commission is another case in point. Achieved through the parliamentary process of overruling the opposition, the decision on municipal government was unable to achieve sufficient support from the commission to get it through the legislature. In contrast, a decision made by the Council of Magistrates by the process of consensus ten years earlier was imple­mented fully and a legislature was established that became more power­ful than the council that created it.

The process of evaluation and strategy in making decisions is strongly influenced by the potential payoffs sought by the participants. Many of the payoff considerations found in the two case studies dis­cussed earlier are listed below.

Case 1. Magistrates

New magistrate: Power, prestige for self and village supporters, dis­credit for detractors

Old magistrate: Revenge for humiliation in election, power, prestige, discredit for detractors

Suwon (Overseer): Recognition of rights, money, public apology and justification, discredit for new magistrate

Interest groups: Recognition, sharing of power, participation in decision-making, economic and prestige benefits

Case 2. District and Municipal Government Study Commission

Lawyers and American administration: Political development, edu­cation, Yapese participation in choice, implementation of Amer­ican-style representative government

Magistrates and legislators: Political continuity, personal position, power, prestige, local support, administration support

The patterning of choices through time is a product of the basic experience of leaders making choices. Evaluation of payoffs, of alterna­tives, and of various kinds of demands is done on the basis of previous experience. Without such experience, decision-making becomes very difficult. This is one of the reasons the magistrates delayed the change-of-government decision for over three years. Most of the magistrates had never seen a legislature, and those who had did not really under­stand it. The choices were made on evaluations of factors other than legislative power. In 1968, legislators had very little difficulty deciding upon a district legislature organization. They were able to build upon ten years of legislative experience. The same leaders, however, had great difficulty in deciding what form a municipal executive and 257legislative government should take. Continual references were made to the council, which they understood, but such ideas as the position of mayor created a great deal of uncertainty and indecision.

Experience not only patterns decision-making, but it often creates new choices. One clear example was the election of several traditional leaders to the first session of the legislature in 1959. These leaders dis­covered very quickly that they lacked the skills and training for such positions and recommended younger, more qualified men to fill the positions.

Barth has suggested that “… it will be the rates and kinds of payoffs of alternative allocations …” that will determine whether changes will be adopted or institutionalized (1967:668). In the political field of Yap, this is a legitimate assertion. The kinds and amount of re­wards of legislative status, in terms of economic and political support, prestige, and decision-making power, have assured its institutionaliza­tion and political security for a long time to come. Conversely, declin­ing rates of payoffs gradually deselect traditional choices. For exam­ple, the position of magistrate has suffered a marked decline in status rewards and power, to the point of open queries as to why it continues to exist. The same pattern of adoption and demise occurs elsewhere in the context of political change. The enduring leaders are those who bring economic and prestige payoffs to their local areas, while the less skillful fall by the wayside. Even the administrative court system has become institutionalized as more and more Yapese seek and achieve larger payoffs in the resolution of interpersonal conflicts. It may be concluded then that the institutionalization of new political choices for change in the Yap political field is achieved through payoffs that are comparable to or greater than those attainable through traditional alternatives. 258

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