Spirituality Catholicisms black
sister
By PAMELA SCHAEFFER
NCR Staff New York
In Manhattan, Los Angeles, Chicago
and Miami, yuppies collect religious iconography, fueling a kind of Voodoo
kitsch. Caribbean rhythms pound out in the urban jazz scene, and Big Bad Voodoo
Daddy, a neo-swing group, packs concert and dance halls. A Voodoo2 chip
produces eye-dazzling effects in computer games.
In the late 1980s another reporter and I, possibly sensing that
Voodoo was on its way to becoming hip and to shedding its ill-founded
reputation as a form of black magic, ventured out between sessions of a
Southern Baptist convention in New Orleans in the late 1980s to check out a
Voodoo museum. I was reporting on the meeting for the St. Louis
Post-Dispatch.
We happened upon a priest and priestess who offered to do a Voodoo
ceremony for our benefit that afternoon. At the appointed time, feeling mildly
skittish, we climbed the stairs to their second story apartment. The ritual
began with drumming and chanting. We were encouraged to drape a large snake
around our necks and dance in turn. My intrepid companion obliged. I declined,
but was pulled in anyway when the priest unexpectedly tossed the snake into my
lap.
Afterward, the priestess tied up a little gris-gris bag for me, a
heavily perfumed red fabric container for a small medal bearing the image of
St. Michael.
I never wrote about this experience, though I often talked about
it. My companion, Kim Sue Lia Perkes, then of The Arizona Republic,
managed a descriptive piece on New Orleans Voodoo. I read a couple of books but
in the end was unable to get comfortable enough with the subject to write the
explanatory piece I had in mind.
Suspecting that the tourist special in the upper room
and a little reading had given me just enough knowledge to be really dangerous
-- who knows, maybe to provoke the gods -- I let the topic die.
Fast forward 10 years to its resurrection. Another
afternoons diversion, this time in New York in mid-November, took me to
the Museum of Natural History, where an exhibition, Sacred Arts of
Haitian Vodou, will end its two-year tour on Jan. 3. A 443-page catalog,
published by the Fowler Museum of Cultural History at the University of
California, Los Angeles, for the exhibition and presumably available long after
it closes, recounts the history of this vibrant Caribbean religion, its
relationship to Catholicism and to Haitis turbulent political history.
For Haitians at certain points in history, Voodoo (spelled Vodou in Haiti and
pronounced voe-DOO) has functioned as a sort of liberation theology, lending
its energy to revolutionary movements.
One of those movements made Haiti the first black republic in
1804, another brought an end to the Duvalier familys 30-year grip on the
country in 1986 and boosted into temporary power the democratically elected
Jean-Bertrand Aristide, then a Catholic priest, in 1990.
Parallel universes
Donald J. Cosentino, cocurator of the exhibition that was 10 years
in the making and editor of its catalog, said in an NCR telephone interview
that he thinks of Vodou and Catholicism as parallel universes -- parallel
universes with bridges, that allow Haitians to easily move from one to
the other.
Cosentino believes that Americans need to know more about Haitian
arts and culture. American Catholics, he said, need to know more about
how Catholicism relates to Caribbean culture and history and to black people
generally.
The exhibition, which strongly favors the aesthetic over the
sensational, fosters strong appreciation for Haitian arts. Although snakes are
often associated with Vodou worship and are well-represented throughout the
natural history museum, no live snake appears in the exhibition.
Haiti looms large in the American consciousness, inversely
proportionate to the islands small size, Cosentino said, because the tiny
nation has come to epitomize what every white culture has found both
alluring and frightening in black cultures.
One of the most important bridges between Catholicism,
historically the religion of Haitis elite, and Vodou, the religion of its
lower classes, is baptism. Although church officials have often tried to
suppress practice of Vodou in Haiti, its practitioners are ironically, almost
by definition, baptized Catholics, he said.
Cosentino is professor of African and Caribbean folklore and chair
of the folklore and mythology program at UCLA. His interest in African cultures
grew out of a stint in Nigeria with the Peace Corps in the 1960s. That interest
took him to Haiti in 1986. His goal was to find out what happened to African
cultures after they were transported to Haiti by slave dealers. Once he arrived
there, an affinity for Haitian culture developed and took on a life of
its own, he said.
The other curator was Marilyn Houlberg, professor of art and
anthropology at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.
Defiantly syncretistic, extravagantly eclectic, Vodous
universe is saturated with color. Its artifacts and sacramentals include beaded
rum bottles, shimmering sequined flags that serve as icons of Vodou spirits,
known as lwas (pronounced el-wahs). Gifts to deities laid upon
elaborately adorned altars range from herbs to small bottles of hotel shampoo,
plaster statues and crucifixes, drums and dolls, food and drink. Altars, like
the religion itself, are accumulations, layer upon layer of holy and secular
objects both representative of and pleasing to lwas, who function as a
powerful extended family. Today an lwa may be supportive and helpful in
practical matters; tomorrow irritable, weepy, demanding, and, at the best of
times, at least in Vodou, deliriously possessive.
To practitioners of Vodou -- the word means spirit, or deity --
spirit possession is a highly desirable state. A practitioner invaded by an
lwa -- actually mounted like a horse -- becomes that spirit, whose
archetypal personality takes over his or her own. Films shown on video screens
scattered throughout the exhibition show practitioners strutting about
ounfòs, Vodou temples, in states of possession.
If the practice of Vodou is exuberant, its history is considerably
more sober.
Haitis story, and by association that of Vodou, its social
glue, is told through a series of narrative paintings by Haitian artists at the
beginning of the exhibition.
Break a vase and the love that reassembles the fragments is
stronger than love which took its symmetry for granted when it was whole,
Derek Walcott wrote in The Antilles, Fragments of Epic Memory (Farrar,
Straus and Giroux, 1992). That assertion, cited in the exhibition catalog,
describes the reconstructive nature of Antillean experience and art.
Assimilate or die
Vodou is that sort of reconstruction. Its basic ingredients are
fragments of the West African experience, later enriched by encounters with
French Catholicism and theater, Jesuits and Freemasons, Hinduism, occultism,
20th-century capitalism and Hollywood. If nothing else, Haitian Vodou is a
religion of accretion. Since Africa, it has been bombarded with sounds
and images it could neither control or turn off, Cosentino wrote.
It had to assimilate them or die.
The religion has its roots in the religion of Africans who were
brought as slaves from various regions of West Africa, starting within a few
years after Columbus set foot on Haiti Dec. 6, 1492. Scholars say Vodou
survives, and thrives, historically as a form of resistance to forced
conversions to European Catholicism and as a form of ethnic pride today.
Columbus named the island Hispaniola, little Spain.
European settlers, mostly Spanish and French, soon killed off the native
Indians with cruelty and new diseases. Spain ceded the western part of the
island to France in 1697, a transfer that ultimately resulted in the
islands division today into Haiti and the Dominican Republic.
The Europeans began importing African slaves in the 16th century
to work on small plantations, then later to support a developing economy of
large plantations and mass export of such products as sugar and coffee. Slave
trade increased dramatically in the 18th century, and by 1791, whites were
greatly outnumbered by blacks. The slaves pieced together a strong social
fabric from remnants of the various African cultures and religions,
incorporating elements of Catholicism. Catholic officials, wary of syncretism,
forcibly imposed Catholicism on slaves, who adopted it nominally. Baptism was
compulsory. Vodou ceremonies were illegal.
Slave rebellions, fueled by secretive vodou practice and
democratizing principles of the French Revolution, erupted into war against
Napoleons depleted army late in the 18th century. In 1804, revolutionary
leader Jean-Jacques Dessalines declared the colonys independence, making
it the first black republic. He called it Haiti, meaning mountainous
area.
The painting from the exhibition displayed at the beginning of
this section shows Dessalines ceremoniously cutting the white out of the French
flag, giving Haiti its red and blue banner.
Europeans fled, including priests, leaving behind Catholic
churches stocked with aesthetic and liturgical materials for Vodou
practitioners to appropriate. So for nearly three generations, until the
Concordat re-established the Roman Catholic hierarchy in 1860, Vodouists were
left free to recycle the abandoned art and transform memories of high Masses
and low commedia into the ceremonies of Vodou, Cosentino wrote.
During these centuries, Le Mélange became the style of
celebration especially evident in the ounfòs of today.
Cosentino attributes some of Vodous more theatrical
expressions to Parisian commedia, a theater form popular in Europe in the 17th
and 18th centuries and transported to the colonies.
Political unrest in Haiti brought an American occupation from 1915
to 1934 and a greatly expanded Catholic presence, partly in the form of
hospitals and schools. Periodically, in 1896, 1913 and 1941, the church has
burned ounfòs and Vodou artifacts in its so-called
anti-superstitious campaigns.
Suppressed by Duvalier
Vodou was again suppressed by the Duvalier regime, which
controlled Haiti from 1957 to 1986. During the same period, foreign Catholic
priests were replaced by Haitian clerics -- a move that ultimately served to
strengthen both religions in Haiti.
According to Leslie G. Desmangles, author of The Faces of the
Gods: Vodou and Roman Catholicism in Haiti (University of North Carolina
Press, 1992), both Vodou and Catholicism contributed to the fall of Jean-Claude
Duvalier, known as Baby Doc in 1986 and to the ascendancy of
Jean-Bertrand Aristide in the nations first democratic election in 1990.
Aristides government was toppled by a military coup just nine months
later.
Although the countrys political life remains turbulent,
Haitian clergy, since 1986, have been forced to acknowledge Vodou as a
vital force in Haitian political and social life, Desmangles wrote, and
its priests and priestesses -- oungans and mambos -- as
powerful and influential figures. Catholicism also remains strong,
offering both social services and a conduit for lower classes to the
countrys mainstream.
Cosentino cautions against facile assumptions. There are a
lot of traps in talking about the relationship between Vodou and
Catholicism, he said. One is to imagine Vodou as some kind of folk
Catholicism -- something akin to the Catholicism of Mexico -- which
it really isnt.
Another is to assume that Catholic iconography means the same
thing to Vodouists as it does to Catholics. For example, he said, the cross is
a favorite Vodou symbol but is often used to convey its pre-Christian symbolism
of the crossroads.
Cosentino describes Catholicism as almost a sister
religion for Haitians who practice Vodou. In the racist colonial
world in which Vodou developed, Vodou is the black sister, Catholicism is the
white sister, he said. They are truly sisters, but the white sister
wont acknowledge the black sister. The black sister truly KNOWS her white
sister and LIKES that other world, but she also knows her place.
Vodou has no creeds, no prescribed liturgies, no formal
organization or theology, no membership rolls. Its priests do not control
access to the divine. Vodou is an ancestral religion and a religion of
healing, Cosentino said, an aid to balancing life, to coping, to
keeping things under control.
Practitioners acknowledge a godhead, Bondye, distant creator of
the universe whose name is a creolization of the French bon dieu. A
plethora of lesser deities are immanent, ever-present realities, whose power
pervades the everyday. Cosentino compares this universe to belief in a
communion of saints among Catholics.
One area of the exhibition is devoted to Vodous 11 principal
deities, an assortment of benign and fiery spirits, maternal and paternal
figures and tricksters. Among the religions many paradoxes is Ezili,
goddess of love, depicted as a wealthy mulatto woman of flamboyant tastes even
as she is associated with the Virgin Mary.
When Ezili comes to a Vodou ceremony in the body of a
possessed devotee (male or female) she ... expects to be treated
generously, Desmangles wrote. She awaits the finest gifts that her
devotees can afford, including expensive jewelry, French perfume, lace-bordered
kerchiefs, silk underwear and imported liqueurs. A festive meal that includes
some of the finest dishes is also part of the ritual in Ezilis
honor.
This deity can take the form of Ezili Freda, noted for her
gentleness, or if her demands are unmet, she can appear as the vindictive Ezili
Danto.
Vodou achieves the hard heaven that Catholics only
imagine, Cosentino wrote. By that, he said, he means that in spirit
possession the deities are manifest, manifest in such a way
that the people can actually touch them, talk to them.
Purely Catholic
apostolic
André Pierre, Haitian artist, poet and philosopher, makes a
comparison between Vodou and Catholicism, illustrating both the tension and the
interplay.
The Vodou religion is purely Catholic apostolic, but not
Roman, he told Cosentino in a recorded conversation. It is not
directed by men. It is directed uniquely by God. Since all people are liars, no
one is a Catholic. Only God and his spirit are Catholic. The spirits of Vodou
are the limbs of God. God is the body and the spirits are the limbs.
He also told Cosentino, Vodou allows you to walk with your
head held high. ... With Vodou you can fight any war.
Vodou is really an extraordinary religion, Cosentino
said. Recalling the various forms of possession that transform practitioners
into spirits, he said, Its an amazing thing to be at a ceremony.
You really have contact with the divine in a tangible way. The tangibility of
the spirituality just knocked me out.
Cosentino said he is fascinated by drummers methods,
sometimes changing rhythms to bring about the psychic disturbance
that allows for the development of multiple personalities.
In Haiti today, the Catholic clergy is generally tolerant of
Vodou. It is no longer practiced in secret. In this tolerant environment, some
nativists propose stripping the religion of its Catholic accretions and taking
it back to its African roots.
Some would say lets get rid of these trappings of
Christianity, Cosentino said. I understand and sympathize with
those who take a purist approach, but I dont think its possible. It
would deny the Creole experience. An enormous part of that was the
Africans encounter with Catholicism.
- Sacred Arts of Haitian Vodou presented by the
Fowler Museum of Cultural
History
http://www.arts.ucla.edu/fowler/Exhibits/vodou.htm
National Catholic Reporter, December 4,
1998
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