10,000 Islands: A Brief History of Traditional Polynesian Tattoos
Starting with Samoan Pe’a, which were mistaken for silk stockings by Captain Cook’s 18th Century voyagers.
Tattooing, as an art form, evolved over thousands of years on the Pacific Islands. Islanders would have their elaborate geometrical designs enhanced and embellished throughout their lifetimes — eventually covering their bodies completely in tattoos. For its sheer beauty and complexity, ancient Polynesian tattoos rival even the master tattoo artists of today.
When we talk about Polynesian tattoos, we’re mainly focusing on Samoan, Marquesan, Tahitian, Tongan, Cook Island, Hawaiian and Māori traditions. Polynesia has over 10,000 islands, and each island culture had their own vibrant tattoo traditions, so it’s impossible to touch on each practice — but there are a lot of similarities between them. Of all of these traditions, Samoan tattooing is the sole survivor of colonialism. However, thankfully many other Polynesian tattoo traditions are making a comeback today.
As we know, it was Captain Cook’s 18th Century voyage that first put Polynesian tattoos on the map and introduced the word “tattoo” to the English language. This is somewhat ironic because Polynesians themselves didn’t have a written language. Instead “tattooing was used to express individuality, genealogy, life history, achievements, social status and rank,” according to Vanishing Tattoo.
“Although the Polynesians never had a written language, their tattoos have been called a ‘language of the skin’,” –World History Encyclopedia.
Michel Tournier, the writer who re-versioned Robinson Crusoe, said, “Tattooed, the body becomes a body-sign. It is a book of spells scrawled upon the skin; it is knowledge and initiation.” These two aspects of the experience were vital: the ritual of receiving the (very painful) tattoos, and the symbolism of the completed designs.
“The excruciating process of getting one’s tattoos is viewed with pride among Samoans,” writes Gian P Barbieri, author of Introduction to Tahiti Tattoos. “The pe’a is a rite of passage for men, as it requires courage and strength to endure, and those who have acquired their p’ea are respected and called soga’imiti.
“Those without their tattoos are called telefua or telenoa, Samoan for ‘naked’. And men who do not complete their pe’a, whether due to the pain or a lack of money to pay for the expensive process wear it like a mark of shame and are called pe’a mutu.”
“Tattoos and their location on the body would determine a lot of different things in Polynesian culture and tattooing was considered a sacred ceremony. They could show a person’s genealogy, position in society and even personal achievements,” — Body Shock.
When the Cook voyagers first encountered the Samoans, they thought they were “civilised” on account of their silk stockings. They soon realised their finery was, in fact, body art.
Tattoo artists were almost exclusively men; all highly trained and high status. In Tonga, “Only priests that had undergone long periods of specialised training were allowed to practice the art of tattooing, and there were strict rituals and rites that had to be followed throughout the tattooing process, by both the artist and the islander that was receiving the tattoo,” according to Cloak and Dagger.
In Samoa, “tattooing played an important role in religion and warfare, as well as culture importance, and tattoo artists held highly privileged positions amongst the Samoan people. The artist typically tattooed men in groups of six or more, and the process was one of ceremony and celebration, with the ritual being attended by their friends and family,” the blog states.
In all of the Polynesian traditions, tattooing was a predominantly male affair, but women also received tattoos — just much less dramatically. Instead of elaborate full or half body designs, tattoos for Polynesia women were “so delicate and intricate, many of them resembled lace gloves on the hands and beautiful stockings on the legs and feet,” it continues.
Samoan Pe’a: Rare Survivors of Colonialism
So what was unique about Samoan tattooing that allowed it to withstand the impact of colonialism where other Polynesian nations simply couldn’t? There are three main reasons. Firstly — very fortunately for the Samoans — they only accepted the Christian God in addition to their gods. As a result, although the Bible forbade tattooing, they didn’t feel compelled to follow this guidance.
“Samoans appeared to have adopted Christianity as a ploy to get the white man’s god on their side. After all, this god to whom they prayed had blessed these Europeans with ships that could survive a journey half way around the world. But the Samoans saw Christianity as an add-on, not a replacement for beliefs that had served them for as long as anyone could remember,” according to Vanishing Tattoo.
Secondly, for whatever reason, the Christian missionaries visiting Samoa “never caught on to the rite’s religious dimension, so they didn’t perceive it as a direct threat to their churches,” according to Anthropology magazine Sapiens. As a result, the Samoans weren’t put under the same amount of pressure to give up their tattoo traditions as other Polynesian islands.
And thirdly, it seems the cultural significance of tattooing for Samoans – the honour, pride and respect associated with them – was just too important to give up. “To the Samoan man, it is the crucial event in a lifetime, from which all other happenings are dated. Until he is tattooed, no matter how old he may be, the Samoan man is still considered and treated as a boy,” according to Vanishing Tattoo.
The Maori’s Ta’moko
“You may lose your most valuable property through misfortune in various ways… your house, your weaponry, your spouse, and other treasures. You may be robbed of all that you cherish. But of our moko, you cannot be deprived, except by death. It will be your ornament and your companion until your final day, ” – Netana Whakaari of Waimana, 1921.
It’s believed the Polynesians first arrived in New Zealand about a thousand years ago. They would have brought their tattoo traditions with them, but at some point — in the late 18th Century, it’s believed — these traditions evolved into something altogether different: the moko. They were “spiral-based designs on the face that were, in most cases, chiseled into the skin,” according to Vanishing Tattoo.
To the Maories, the head was considered the most sacred part of the body. They believed their elaborate facial tattoos would help them traverse the afterlife. The moko also symbolised status, rank, tribal lineage and achievements so not everyone received the honour. “The high ranking members of the Maori Tribe were tattooed and the members of the lowest social level could wear none,” according to Body Shock.
“Receiving moko constituted an important milestone between childhood and adulthood, and was accompanied by many rites and rituals…Another reason for the practice in traditional times was to make a person more attractive to the opposite sex. Men generally received moko on their faces, buttocks (raperape) and thighs (puhoro). Women usually wore moko on their lips (kauwae) and chins,” according to Wikipedia.
Unlike regular tattoo techniques which puncture the skin repetitively with ink, “Tā moko involves the literal carving of the skin using a chisel known as uhi. This process leaves permanent grooves on the surface of the skin (usually the face, buttocks and upper legs), giving the tattoo a unique texture. Such marks were a sign of honour in pre-European Maori society, to the extent that those who did not have them were considered to be of a lower class,” according to Art of Manliness.
“The moko is similar to an identity card, or passport. For men, the moko showed their rank, their status and their ferocity, or virility. The wearer’s position of power and authority could be instantly recognised in his moko” — New Zealand in History.
“The marks in general are spirals drawn with great nicety and even elegance. One side corresponds with the other. The marks on the body resemble foliage in old chased ornaments, convolutions of filigree work, but in these they have such a luxury of forms that of a hundred which at first appeared exactly the same, no two were formed alike on close examination,” — Captain James Cook, on the Maori Tā moko.
Journey through tattoo history at NAAMA’s Medium — our space to explore the ever-changing human relationship to tattoos, chronicle their complex history, and celebrate the empowering future of body art evolution.
