by Lionel
Fairy as eleda.
Crystal skulls — dwelling places for the eleda.
The principles of Santeria do not include good versus evil dualism like the Christian idea of God versus the devil. For Santerians, the universe is subject to opposing forces such as expansion and contraction, which are not of themselves good or evil. They believe everything in the universe has positive attributes that are referred to as Iré and negative attributes that are described as Ibi. Positive elements are thought of as constructive, while negative elements are thought of as destructive. There is also an important sense that the formation of right character is an integral part of Santerian faith. Good character in the Santerian belief system is called Iwapele and consists of doing good deeds and striving to be a good person. It also consists of a particular motivation as the dynamic for being good and for doing good. Iwapele requires a Santerian to choose to do good simply because it is good. Santerian morality and ethics are not based on rewards for good behaviour or punishment for bad behaviour: they focus on the importance of doing right simply because it is right.
There are significant differences between the mysterious syncretized religions in the group that contains Santeria, Voodoo, Obeah, and similar faiths. Voodoo has several variant spellings — including Vodou, Vudun, Vodoun, and Vodun — depending upon the language of the culture where it is recognized. The most familiar form of the word, Voodoo, is the one used frequently in the New Orleans area of the U.S.A. Vodou is the name employed in Haiti. Vudun, Vodoun, and Vodun are the variants used by worshippers in Brazil. Vodun is also an old Fon word that simply means spirit.
However it is spelled, Voodoo can be thought of as traditionally West African — like Santeria. The heart of Voodoo’s religious, theological, metaphysical, and philosophical thinking is close to the core of most major world religions: an attempt to understand and explain the universe and the vast forces within it, to control or influence those forces, and to influence human thought and behaviour. Like Santeria, Voodoo and its derivatives were carried by the slave trade to the Caribbean, the Philippines, and the Americas.
Very similar to Santeria in many ways, Voodoo theology begins with the concept of a supreme creator god who is called Nana Buluku and who is responsible for the entire universe together with everything it contains. The religious traditions of the Fon people of Dahomey include the idea that Nana Buluku generated the moon god and sun god, whom they refer to as Mawu and Lisa. In another variation of the ancient African belief systems, Nana Buluku can be identified with Yemaja, described by some theologians as the female thought of the male creator god, whom they then refer to in that context as Ashe. This concept is then pursued along the lines that as Yemaja — the female thought — Nana Buluku became the dynamic process behind all later creation.
A development of this Voodoo idea of Nana Buluku as the original creative force is the existence of the voduns — superhuman divinities who work for God or act for God. They are practically equivalent to the Orishas and are understood to be the children of Mawu and Lisa, the grandchildren of Nana Buluku. Voodoo is also deeply concerned with ancestral spirits, and different African families have their own highly trained and specialized priests and priestesses. These roles can be hereditary.
It is important to make a clear distinction between the role of a genuinely religious Voodoo priest or priestess and that of the bokor, meaning a wizard, an enchanter, or a magician. The use of poppets, or Voodoo dolls, is part of the Hoodoo derivative of Voodoo, rather than having a central place in Voodoo religion as such. Again, in any paranormal use of such dolls — as a form of very ancient sympathetic magic — the bokor would be more relevant than a legitimate priest or priestess. These pinned dolls also have centuries-old counterparts in medieval European witchcraft, and it is certainly possible that the idea came from Africa to Europe during Roman times — or even earlier.
For oppressed and abused slaves in the Caribbean and the Americas who had almost no defence against the cruelties of their owners, the idea of a magical defence might have had considerable appeal. In tropical climates where a healthy plantation owner could succumb to infection, sicken, and die within a week, superstitious neighbours might wonder whether a slave-sorcerer had killed his owner with pins in a magical poppet.
A Voodoo doll or poppet.
Misunderstandings of the real meaning and purpose of these strange dolls might also have arisen because they were at one time used as psychic messengers — almost in the way that a human medium might be considered to act as a bridge between the invisible world of spirits and the physical world of the living. Haitian Voodoo custom included nailing poppets — and discarded shoes — on trees near burial grounds. Another, and very different, practice was to build the poppets into altars or sacred objects intended to honour and venerate voduns, Orishas, and distinguished ancestors.
In popular literature and folklore, Voodoo has been seen as very close to Satanism, or similar types of devil worship, but this is not borne out by the facts. In order to draw the clear and necessary demarcation lines separating Satanism from Voodoo, Santeria, Obeah, and the other syncretized religions, it needs to be understood that Satanism — like the Hydra of classical mythology — has several heads!
At one extreme there is what may be described as theistic Satanism, in which the devil is considered to be a real and powerful psychic entity, with certain objectives as far as he and his worshippers are concerned. At the other extreme is the philosophical atheist, who believes in no psychic entities of any kind whatsoever but feels that his or her instincts are being suppressed and inhibited by the law, order, and culture that protect society. There are other Satanists who try to trace their religion back to the worship of Set in ancient Egypt. For them Setianism (rather than Satanism) is a hedonistic religion of pure, wild, uninhibited, totally selfish pleasure.
Sensationalized, melodramatic portrayals of Satanism usually include primitive mockeries of Christianity, particularly the so-called black mass ceremony. The philosophical ideas of good and evil put God’s unselfish love for humanity and His will that human beings should love, care for, help, and protect one another very clearly on one side of the moral and ethical conflict. The various forms of Satanism, despite their wide divergence from one another — and whether they worship human instincts or some real or imaginary evil psychic entity — broadly advocate the selfish pursuit of individual pleasure at the expense of anyone weaker who gets in the way. The followers of Voodoo are not dualists — they believe in one benign Supreme Being. They ask help from that Supreme Being’s assistants: the Orishas and the voduns. There is no perspective from which Voodoo worship can be seen as a form of Satanism. Some Orishas and voduns have negative as well as positive aspects — but Voodoo worshippers accept that all human beings have similar negative and positive aspects. It may conflict strongly with the popular concepts of Santeria, Obeah, Voodoo, and the other syncretized religions — but the followers of these religions strive as hard as any human being can to reach what they describe as a state of Iwapele: a state of being a good person who strives after goodness for its own sake.
Obeah is more magic-orientated than either Voodoo or Santeria, but like them its origins can be traced to ancient Africa. Slaves who came from the Ashanti peoples would refer to their religious leaders as Myal men and to the magic that their leaders worked as Obi or Obeah. The meaning of the word extended so that it also came to refer to a talisman, a spell, a magician’s wand, or any other piece of magical equipment. There was a darker side to Obeah as well, so that anything used for harmful magical purposes was referred to as Obeah. Yet it was also used in positive and benign ways to bring good luck, to heal its followers when they were sick or injured, and to solve problems connected with money. Many Obeah spells also related to love and marriage.
One of the most useful research sources into late eighteenth and early nineteenth century Obeah is William Earle’s novel entitled Obi, or the History of Three-Fingered Jack. The story was p
ublished in 1800 and formed the basis of several popular melodramas in London theatres. The hero is the real-life escaped slave, freedom fighter, and Jamaican folk hero Jack Mansong. In this quasi-historical account of his adventures, Mansong is described as a skilled practitioner of Obi (Obeah), from which he gained his superpowers. Further fiction with a strong factual basis, Hamel the Obeah Man, was published in 1827. These literary insights into Obeah were reinforced by the dramatic interpretations of celestial phenomena that are found not only in astrology but in many religions — the star that led the eastern Magi to Bethlehem is a case in point.
Is this the hand of Three-Fingered Jack?
The comet called Schwassmann-Wachmann 1 has an orbital period of about fifteen years and a more circular orbit than the usual cometary ellipse. Its brightness also changes dramatically from time to time. This comet, or one very similar to it, made some spectacular nineteenth-century appearances over the Caribbean and caused massive religious disquiet in Jamaica.
Spiritualism was in fashion then, and there were numerous outbreaks of end-of-the-world religious enthusiasm among a number of fundamentalist Christian groups. During this socially disturbed period, Myal men and Obeah practitioners frequently confronted one another. The Myal men claimed that they were on the side of the angels, and that their opponents, the Obeah men, were carrying out evil enchantments of all types — including stealing people’s shadows. The Myal men naturally offered to recover the stolen shadows.
Nomenclature is one of the major problems for researchers exploring the mysteries of the syncretized religions. Some of the important distinctions separating Santeria, Obeah, and Voodoo have already been examined, but Candomblé — sometimes called Batuque and Macumba in different regions — also needs to be analyzed. It is practised mainly in Brazil, where it arrived with African slaves in the middle of the sixteenth century. Some of these captives were actually high-ranking Candomblé priests, and others were devout followers of the religion.
Candomblé can be described as a spiritual religion in the sense that its worshippers revere one supreme god. This supreme deity is Nana Buluku to the Fon, but the Bantu peoples use the name Zambi, or Zambiapongo. There are also demigods and spirits of various kinds. The Bantu call these Candombléan demigods nkisis, and they are more or less the equivalents of the Orishas and voduns.
Modern nkisis are sometimes described as “power statues” and are thought of as embodying, or otherwise encapsulating, magical energy. They are used for divination, healing, and promoting success. Practitioners believe that their little nkisis statuettes are in contact with paranormal forces. They are thought of as magical devices — something like the psychic equivalents of radio or TV receivers — through which very strong signals from the spirit world can reach the Candomblé believer.
These Candomblé entities — like the different Orishas, or the Kami of Japanese Shintoism — all have specific powers that are associated with a wide range of different natural phenomena. Although each specific entity is thought of as having a particular location as well as individual powers, they can be guests in one another’s domains. A Candomblé family who are the people of one Orisha-type spirit can, therefore, invite another powerful psychic being to come to their aid when his or her powers are more relevant for their needs at a particular time.
Just as was the case with Santeria, a syncretizing interface occurred between Candomblé and Christianity, and crucifixes were often displayed on the altars in Candombléan temples and in worshippers’ homes. Candombléan ritual dances were often said to be in honour of various Christian saints rather the Candombléan deities at whom they were really directed. There was, however, a certain one-sidedness to the toleration and inclusiveness manifested in this syncretized religion. Christians would not accept the demigod status of the Orishas, or orixas, as they were also known; whereas Candombléans were more than happy to regard Jesus and Christian angels and saints as very powerful and benign psychic entities.
A Holy Christian icon.
The Candombléans were also willing to reverence the local gods, goddesses, and powerful spirit beings of South America. These included Amana, a creator goddess associated with the sea, and her two sons, Tamus and Tamula. When Amana created the sun, she did not realize how powerful its heat would be, so she dips it into the sea each night to prevent it from damaging the earth. Tamus helps her by working through the day and cutting off the sun’s radiant heat-serpents. He throws them into the air where they burn out harmlessly as meteors and comets. Does this South American folk belief connect in any way with the panic in Jamaica when the very bright comet appeared?
Tamula takes over from his brother after Amana has dipped the sun into the ocean. His job is to keep dark covers over the sun throughout the night, until his serpent-cutting brother takes over again at dawn. Amana, like many of the Orishas, is associated with a mystic number. Hers is 1468. Numerologists analyze this as 1 + 4 + 6 + 8 = 19 and then 1 + 9 = 10 followed by 1 + 0 = 1.
The number one is of special significance in numerological analysis. It denotes massive strength, willpower, and creativity. It is a particularly relevant number for a god, a goddess, a demigod, or an Orisha.
Other gods of South American cultures, such as the mysterious Aztecs, also found their way into Candombléan religious thought. Some legendary accounts of Aztec origins suggest that they arrived from the north and occupied the Anahuac valley close to Lake Texcoco. Other accounts suggest that they came from Chicomostoc, which means “the place where seven caves are situated.” There are theories that this links with the classical Roman tradition that the great city was built on seven hills and that the seven Aztec caves of Chicomostoc are a coded reference to Rome. When the Huns, Goths, and Vandals descended on Rome, did a group of prudent Romans sail past the Pillars of Hercules (Gibraltar) and away across the South Atlantic? This unusual theory of Aztec origins finds support in the ancient Aztec beliefs concerning “white gods” who would one day return from across the sea. Could those “white gods” have been powerful and wealthy Roman aristocrats with their soldiers and servants? Was it their semi-legendary knowledge of Roman gold that gave the Aztecs their desire to locate, mine, and store it in vast quantities? Other legends of Aztec origins place them in Tamonachan, but Tamonachan was simply a place like the Garden of Eden — or even the Olduvai Gorge — that was recognized as the starting point of all civilizations. Was it a notional location rather than a geographical one?
There were numerous Aztec gods for the Candombléans to learn about and perhaps to absorb alongside the other indigenous South and Central American gods and goddesses such as Amana, Tamus, and Tamula. These deities included the underworld god Acolmiztli and the god of lakes and rivers, Amimtl. There was also Camaxtli, the god of fire, warfare, and hunting; and Chantico, the goddess of hearth and home as well as volcanoes. Ehecatl was a wind god who helped to support the sky in a similar way to the Greek Atlas. His breath was powerful enough to affect the position of the sun and to move the rain. Most importantly, he possessed good and positive emotions and consequently fell in love with Mayahuel, a human girl. In this respect, Ehecatl resembled Zeus, head of the Greek pantheon, whose continual love affairs with human girls aroused the formidable anger of his jealous goddess wife, Hera. The beneficent Ehecatl bestowed the ability to love on humanity in general so that Mayahuel could return his love for her.
Another benign member of the Aztec pantheon was Ixtlilton — their god of healing, games, dancing, celebrations, and festivals. He would have appealed strongly to Candombléans, for whom rhythmic dancing was an essential component of religion.
At one time, Candomblé, Santeria, Umbanda, and Quimbanda were grouped with some of the shamanic faiths and included under the general category of spiritist religions. It was Allan Kardec (1804–1869) who claimed to have coined the word spiritism as the name of his religious system, but traditional and fundamentalist Christians used the word disparagingly to show their prejudice against any religion that e
ncouraged, accepted, or tolerated mediumship.
There is an important but subtle distinction between Kardec’s precise use of the term spiritism and the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries’ English use of spiritualism, although there is also a significant overlap between the two sets of ideas. Nicolas Camille Flammarion (1842–1925) combined professional astronomy with authorship and was sympathetic towards Kardec’s spiritism system, as was Arthur Conan Doyle. Flammarion’s most famous comment on the subject was this: “It is by the scientific method alone that we may make progress in the search for truth. Religious belief must not take the place of impartial analysis. We must be constantly on our guard against illusions” (“Death and its Mystery,” 1921). And when he spoke at Kardec’s funeral, Flammarion made the point that “spiritism is not a religion but a science.” Despite Flammarion’s phrasing, however, he and Doyle were equally interested in what was more generally referred to in their day as spiritualism.
The particular variety of syncretistic religion referred to as Umbanda derives its name from the Hindu term aum-gandha, which translates broadly as “godly or celestial rule or principle.” It contains ideas about the spirit world and psychic healing that can be traced back to African, Hindu, and Buddhist concepts. Umbanda can be condensed to three fundamental principles. The first is that human beings possess a spiritual body as well as a physical one. The second is that spiritual beings of all types are in contact with our ordinary, everyday, physical world. The third is that it is possible for human beings to contact these psychic, ethereal entities, to learn from them, and to be healed by them when necessary.
