THE TERRITORIAL IMPERATIVE

One of the things that is inherited genetically is the sense of territory. Robert Ardrey has written a fascinating book, The Territorial Imperative, in which he traces this territorial

sense through the animal kingdom and into the human. In his book he discusses the staking out and guarding of territories by animals, birds, deer, fish and primates. For some species the territories are temporary, shifting with each season. For other animal species they are permanent. Ardrey makes an interesting case for the fact that, in his belief, ' the territorial nature of man is genetic and ineradicable'. From his extensive animal studies he describes an innate code of behaviour in the animal world that ties sexual reproduction to territorial defence. The key to the code, he believes, is territory, and the territorial imperative is the drive in animals and in men to take, hold and defend a given area.

There may be a drive in all men to have and defend a territory, and it may well be that a good part of that drive is inborn. However, we cannot always interpolate from humans to animals and from animals to humans. The territorial imperative may exist in all animals and in some men. It may be strengthened by culture in some of these men and weakened in still others. But there is little doubt that there is some territorial need in humans. How imperative it is remains to be seen. One of the most frightening plays of modern times is Home, by Megan Terry. It postulates a world of the future where the population explosion has caused all notion of territory to be discarded. All men live in cells in a gigantic metal hive .enclosing the entire planet. They live out their lives, whole families confined to one room, without ever seeing sky or earth or another cell. In this prophetic horror story, territory has been completely abolished. Perhaps this gives the play its great impact. In our modern cities we seem to be moving towards the abolition of territory. We find families crammed and boxed into rooms that are stacked one on another to dizzying heights. We ride elevators pressed together, and subway trains, packed in too tightly to move our arms or legs. We have yet to fully understand what happens to man when he is deprived of all territorial rights. We know man has a sense of territory, a need for a shell of territory around him. This varies from the tight close shell of the city dweller through the larger bubble of yard and home in the suburbanite to the wide open spaces the countryman enjoys.

WHEN IS A PERSON NOT A PERSON

In any culture there are permissible moments when the mask may slip. Blacks in the South are well aware of the 'hate stare' that a Southern white can give to them for no obvious reason except skin colour. The same stare or naked show of hostility without masking can be given to another white by a white only under the greatest provocation and it is never permitted in America's Southern cultures to be given by a black to a white. One of the reasons why the mask may be dropped, in this case, by the Southern white is because the Southern white sees the black as a non-person, an object not worth concerning himself about. In the South, however, the blacks have their own private signs. One black, by a certain signal of the eye, may tell another that he, too, is a brother, a black, even though his skin is so light that he could pass as a white. By another type of eye signal he may warn off a black and tell him, ' I am passing as a white man.'

Children, in our society, are treated as non-persons quite often and so are servants. We feel, perhaps consciously, perhaps unconsciously, that before these nonpersons no mask is necessary. We cannot worry about hurting the feelings of a non-person. How can he have feelings to hurt? This attitude is usually seen as a class-oriented thing. A class in society will apply it to the class beneath; higher status people will apply it to lower-status people. The boss may not bother to mask in front of his employee, nor the lady in front of her maid any more than a father will mask in front of his child. I sat in a restaurant recently with my wife, and a table away two dowager-type women were having cocktails. Everything about them from their furs to their hairdos cried out 'wealth' and their bearing confirmed the fact. In the crowded restaurant they talked in voices so loud that they carried to every corner, yet their talk was private and intimate. The embarrassing result to the rest of the diners was that in order to maintain an illusion of privacy we all had either to pretend not to hear or to conduct ourselves and our own conversations so intently that we could block out the two dowagers.

In body language these two women were saying,' You are all of no real importance to us. You are all, in fact, not really people at all. You are non-persons. What we wish to do is all that matters, and so we cannot really embarrass anyone else.' Incidentally, instead of using their bodies to signal this message, these dowagers used voice volume, and it was not the intelligence of what they said but the amount of sound they used to say it that conveyed the message. Here we have the unusual technique of having two messages transmitted by one medium, the meaning of the words transmits one message, and the loudness of the voice transmits another.

There are cases where the mask is dropped but the dropping is almost contemptuous. Unmasking in front of a non-person is often no unmasking at all. In most cases we keep our masks on and the reason we keep them on is important. It is often dangerous in one way or another to unmask. When we are approached by a beggar in the street, if we do not wish to give him anything, it is important that we pretend he is not there and we have not seen him. We firm up the mask, look away and hurry past. If we were to allow ourselves to unmask in order to see the beggar as an individual, not only would we have to face our own consciences, but we would also leave ourselves open to his importuning, pleading and possible attempt to embarrass us. The same is true of many chance encounters. We cannot afford the time involved to exchange words and pleasantries, at least in urban areas. There are just too many people around us. In the suburbs or in the country it is different, and there is correspondingly less masking. Also, by showing our real selves, we open ourselves to unpleasant interpretation. Dr Goffman makes this clear in the setting of a mental institution. He describes a middle-aged man, a mental patient, who walked about with a folded newspaper and a rolled umbrella, wearing an expression of being late for an appointment. Keeping up the front that he was a normal businessman was overwhelmingly important to this patient, though in point of

fact he was deceiving no one but himself. In Eastern countries the masking procedure may be a physical one. The custom of women wearing veils is primarily to allow them to conceal their true emotions and so protect them from any male aggression. In these countries body language is so well recognized that it becomes an accepted fact that a man, with the slightest encouragement, will try to force sexual intercourse upon a woman. The veil allows the woman to hide her lower face and any unintentionally encouraging gesture. In the seventeenth century women used fans and masks on sticks for the same purpose.

THE WESTERN WORLD'S WAY WITH SPACE

So far we have considered body language in terms of spatial differences in widely disparate cultures, the East and Near East as opposed to the West. However, even among the Western nations, there are broad differences. There is a distinct difference between the way a German, for instance, handles his living space, and the way an American does. The American carries his two-foot bubble of privacy around with him, and if a friend talks to him about intimate matters they will come close enough for their special bubbles to merge. To a German, an entire room in his own house can be a bubble of privacy. If someone else engages in an intimate conversation in that room without including him he may be insulted. Perhaps, Hall speculates, this is because in contrast to the Arab, the German's ego is 'extraordinarily exposed'. He will therefore go to any length to preserve his private sphere. In World War II, German prisoners of war were housed four to a hut in one Army camp. Hall notes that as soon as they could they set about partitioning their huts to gain private space. In open stockades, German prisoners tried to build their own private dwelling units.

The German's 'exposed ego' may also be responsible for a stiffness of posture and a general lack of spontaneous body movement. Such stiffness can be a defence or mask against revealing too many truths by unguarded movements. In Germany, homes are constructed for a maximum of privacy. Yards are well fenced and balconies are screened. Doors are invariably kept closed. When an Arab wants privacy he retreats into himself but when a German wants privacy he retreats behind a closed door. This German desire for privacy, for a definite private zone that does not intrude on anyone else's, is typified by his behaviour in line-ups or queues.

At a movie house in a German-American neighbour hood I waited in line recently for a ticket and listened to the German conversation about me as we moved forwards in neat and orderly fashion. Suddenly, when I was just a few places from the ticket seller's window, two young men who, I later learned, were Polish walked up to the head of the line and tried to buy their tickets immediately. An argument broke out around us. 'Hey! We've been waiting on line. Why don't you?' ' That's right. Get back in line.' 'To hell with that! It's a free country. Nobody asked you to wait in line,' one of the Poles called out, forcing his way to the ticket window.

'You're queued up like sheep,' the other one said angrily. 'That's what's wrong with you Krauts.' The near-riot that ensued was brought under control by two patrolmen, but inside the lobby I approached the line crashers. What were you trying to do out there? Start a riot?' One of them grinned. 'Just shaking them up. Why form a line? It's easier when you mill around.' Discovering that they were Polish helped me understand their attitude. Unlike the Germans, who want to know exactly where they stand and feel that only orderly obedience to certain rules of conduct guarantees civilized behaviour, the Poles see civilized behaviour as a flouting of authority and regulations.

While the Englishman is unlike the German in his treatment of space - he has little feeling for the privacy of his own room - he is also unlike the American. When the American wishes to withdraw he goes off by himself. Possibly because of the lack of private space and the 'nursery' raising of children in England, the Englishman who wants to be alone tends to withdraw into himself like  the Arab. The English body language that says, 'I am looking for some momentary privacy' is often interpreted by the American as,' I am angry at you, and I am giving you the silent treatment.' The English social system achieves its privacy by carefully structured relationships. In America you speak to your next-door neighbour because of proximity. In England, being a neighbour to someone does not at all guarantee that you know them or speak to them. There is the story of an American college graduate who met an English Lady on an ocean liner to Europe. The boy was seduced by the Englishwoman and they had a wild affair. A month later he attended a large and very formal dinner in London and among the guests, to his delight, he saw Lady X. Approaching her he said,' Hello! How have you been?'

THE SYMBOLIC BATTLE

The relationship between animal communication and human communication is only now beginning to be understood. Many of our insights into non-verbal communication

have come from experiments with animals. Birds will communicate with each other by song, generation after generation singing the same set of notes, the same simple or complex melody. For many years scientists believed that these notes, these bird songs were hereditary accomplishments like the language of the porpoise, the language dances of certain bees, and the 'talking' of frogs. Now, however, there is some doubt that this is completely so. Experiments seem to indicate that bird songs are learned. Scientists have raised certain birds away from any others of their own kind, and these fledglings have never been able to reproduce the species' typical songs. Indeed, the scientists who raised such birds were able to teach them a fragment of a popular song to replace the species' song. Left alone, a bird like this would never be able to mate, for bird songs are involved with the entire mating process.

Another type of animal behaviour that has long been termed instinctive is the symbolic fighting of dogs. When two male dogs meet they may react in a number of ways, but the most common is the snarling, snapping simulation of a fight to the death. The uninitiated onlooker will usually be alarmed by this behaviour and may even try to separate the seemingly angry animals. The knowing dog owner simply watches, realizing how much of the fight is symbolic.

This is not to say that the fight isn't real. It is. The two animals are competing for mastery. One will win, because he is more aggressive, perhaps stronger and with harder drives than the other. The fight is over at the point when  both dogs realize that one is the victor, though no skin has been broken. Then a curious thing happens. The vanquished dog lies down, rolls over and exposes his throat to the victor. To this surrender, the victor reacts by simply standing over the vanquished, baring his fangs and growling for a definite period of time. Then both leap away and the battle is forgotten.

A non-verbal procedure has been acted out. The vanquished says,' I concede. You are the stronger and I bare my vulnerable throat to you.' The victor says,' Indeed, I am stronger and I will snarl and show that strength, but now let's get up and romp.' It is a curious aside to note that in almost no species of higher animal does one member of the species kill another for any reason, though they might fight with each other for many reasons. Among roe bucks at mating time such semi-symbolic fights can build up to the point of actual battle, and then, curiously, the animals will attack the nearby trees instead of each other.

Certain birds, after scolding and flapping in angry prelude to battle, will settle their differences by turning furiously to nest building. Antelope may lock horns and struggle for superiority, but the fight, however furious it may be, will end not always in death but in a ritual defeat. Animals have learned the art of acting out relationships in a kind of charade that is a first cousin to body language. The controversial point about this symbolic battling behaviour of dogs and other animals is whether this conduct, this type of communication, is inherited as instincts are inherited, imprinted in the genetic pattern of the species and handed down from generation to generation, or whether it is learned anew by each animal. I mentioned that in some song birds the species' song must be learned; however, in others the songs are truly instinctive. Linnets learn their songs, while reed buntings inherit the ability to sing the characteristic species song. whether or not they are in contact with other reed buntings during their growth. We must be careful in studying any behaviour in the animal world not to generalize. What is true for one species of bird is not at all true for another. What is true for animals is not necessarily true for men. The symbolic battling of dogs is believed by many scientists to be an inherited thing, and yet I have had a dog trainer assure me that this behaviour is learned.

 ' Watch a mother dog when her cubs are scrapping. If one is triumphant and tries to carry his victory to the point of damaging the other, the mother will immediately cuff him into neutrality, teaching him to respect the defeat of his brother. No, a dog must be taught symbolic behaviour.' On the other hand there are dogs, such as the Eskimo dogs of Greenland, that seem to have a tremendous amount of difficulty learning symbolic behaviour. Niko Tinbergen, the Dutch naturalist, says these dogs possess definite territories for each pack. Young male pups constantly violate the boundaries of these territories, and as a result they are constantly punished by the older males who have set the boundaries. The pups, however, never seem to learn just where the boundaries are. That is, until they reach sexual maturity. From the time they experience their first copulation they suddenly become aware of the exact boundaries. Is this a learning process that has been reinforced over the years and now takes hold? Or is it some instinctive process that only develops with sexual maturity?