Prince Philip, they hardly know ye

A South Pacific 'cargo cult' petitions its deity for bags of rice and a Land Rover.

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The prince's status among islanders received a boost in 1971 when, resplendent in a white naval uniform, he steamed into the New Hebrides capital, Port Vila, with the queen. Chief Jack traveled 150 miles by sea especially for the event.

The Prince Philip cult is just one of several "cargo cults" that began emerging in the south Pacific with the first Western colonization in the 1800s. As strange as they may seem, cargo cults were a highly complex reaction by bewildered islanders to the influence of Western modernity.

"Movements like these were a way for traditional people to come to terms with colonialism and Christianity," says Kirk Huffman, a British anthropologist who lived in Vanuatu for 17 years. "Vanuatu's culture would have been entirely squashed if it wasn't for cults like [these]."

Often they put their faith in a Christ-like messiah who would chase away colonial overlords and bring wealth, or "cargo." Such beliefs were reinforced by the arrival of US forces in the South Pacific during World War II. The avalanche of materiel – battleships, bulldozers, medicines, and ration packs – astonished islanders. They were also impressed by black American soldiers who descended with apparently unlimited candy and Coca-Cola.

Around 1,000 men from Tanna worked as porters and laborers for the US military on the New Hebrides islands of Efate and Espiritu Santo. It is a period of the war immortalized by James Michener in "Tales of the South Pacific."

To this day villagers in one part of Tanna believe in the eventual arrival of a messiah they call Jon Frum – thought to be a contraction of "John from America," perhaps a GI who showed them particular regard, anthropologists speculate. Every year on February 15, followers show their devotion to this shadowy American spirit by daubing the letters U-S-A in red paint on their chests, dressing in GI-style uniforms, and marching barefoot around a parade ground beneath a fluttering Stars and Stripes. Shouldering bamboo "rifles," they execute perfect drills in the shadow of Mount Yasur, an active volcano.

In the past, the cult – to which at least half of Tanna's 20,000 people adhere – built makeshift runways, piers, and wooden planes to tempt the Americans and their cargo back to the island. "Towers with tin cans strung from wires, imitating radio stations, were erected so Jon Frum could 'speak' to his people," writes travel guide author David Stanley in his book "South Pacific."

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(Mary Knox Merrill/Staff)
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