Voodoo in Haiti

by Alfred Métraux

  An object picked up and kept as a talisman on account of its quaintness or the circumstances in which it was found, sometimes becomes an independent loa, quite separate from its original material manifestation.

  One story, in which I knew the principal protagonist, gives an excellent example of the vicissitudes of an ordinary fetish. A fisherman from the neighbourhood of Port-au-Prince had taken out of his lobster-pot a stone with two shells sticking to it. Intrigued by his find he kept it at home without, however, giving it much attention. Soon he realized luck had deserted him. Nothing succeeded. Tired of tribulation he consulted a hungan who told him his stone was a new loa called Capitaine Déba, and advised him to keep it in oil near a lampe perpétuelle{50} and to make sacrifices to it. Our friend did this and found that his luck returned. When he died, his daughter, a shop-keeper of Port-au-Prince, inherited the loa and its cult. She attributed to the spirit the likeness and tastes of an officer of the United States Navy, such as they had been described to her by her lover who was a quartermaster on a warship. Every year on a set day she ‘fed’ Captain Déba. Possessed by him, she wore a peaked cap, sat on a stool, pretended to row and sang sea-shanties in English.

  Theologians of Voodoo, rather in the manner of naturalists, have divided loa into groups and sub-groups{51}; unfortunately they have not managed to standardize their system which varies from one region, from one sanctuary and even from one priest to another. I do not think there exist any two catalogues of loa exactly the same. It is true that most of the ‘great loa’ have secure and unquestioned positions, but others and, not necessarily the least important, are placed sometimes in one category and sometimes in another. Where Voodoo is in a state of decay classification tends to be simplified. At Plaisance and Mirebalais, for instance, Voodoo adepts scarcely gave the matter a thought, even in the course of worship.

  At the root of this classification of spirits stand two main categories of loa: rada and petro. It will be remembered that this word rada is the Haitian version of the town of Arada, in Dahomey. We have also seen how Don Pedro was an historic personality who lived in the middle of the eighteenth century; and how his name, for obscure reasons, took the place of some African tribe whose rites he had exalted to a place of honour. Each loa category has its own special drum rhythms, musical instruments, dances and salutations. No one can mistake a rada ceremony for a petro ceremony. The difference between the two rituals is expressed in many small characteristics and this makes confusion unlikely. For instance in a rada ceremony the ritual acclamation, at the end of a song or at the climax of a sacrifice, is ‘Abobo’—a cry which is accompanied by noise made by striking the mouth with the hand. The acclamation of petro ritual is ‘bilobilo’, and petro loa are welcomed by cracks of a whip (fouette-cache) which are ‘fashioned’ in the air. Petro are reputed to like gunpowder. Small charges are therefore detonated in their honour to please them. Ritual sprinklings of kimanga, a liquid based on rum and various spices, are carried out with very precise movements and are exclusively reserved for petro loa.

  The term petro is not used in the north and north west of Haiti where these spirits go under the name Lemba. This—the name of a Congo tribe—covers divinities and a complex of rites which roughly correspond to those covered by the word petro.

  Within or on the fringe of these two main groups, we find many sub-groups of spirits who bear the names of African tribes or nations—Ibo, Nago, Bambara, Anmine, Hausa, Mondongue etc.—or African regions—Congo, Wangol (Angola), Siniga (Senegal), Caplau etc. Hence such groups are called nanchon (nations). This term is equally applied to all groups of a religious nature, even to a category of spirits as far-flung as that of the rada or petro, or to a group of devotees whose ‘heads were washed’ by the same hungan (e.g., nanchon Dodo, nanchon Pierre etc.) Among the minor groups of loa there are some important enough to stand as autonomous categories with their own ritual. This is notably the case with the nanchon Ibo and Congo. Voodooists make the word fanmi (family) synonymous with nanchon. Strictly speaking the fanmi is a subdivision of the nanchon and this term should only be applied to sub-groups of closely related loa. However, the meaning of the word fanmi in current usage lacks precision. People speak of the fanmi rada or the fanmi petro. On the other hand it is not said of the numerous Guédé that they form a nanchon, but a fanmi, since the members of this group ‘work’ with different rites—rada, petro and even Congo rites.

  What is the good of losing ourselves in the intricacies of this subtle classification? Let us take one sample: the Congo group. It is divided into Congo-du-bord-de-la-mer (Congo of the seashore) and Congo-savane (Savannah Congo). The former, waterside loa are said to have fairer skins, to be more intelligent and better mannered than those of the interior. The latter, however, are superior in knowledge of medicinal herbs. The Congo-savane, also called zandor, are sub-divided into families of which the main members are: the Kanga, Caplau, Bumba, Mondongue and Kita. There are two sorts of Kita: the true Kita and the Kita-secs (dry-Kita). There are also Congo-francs, Congo-mazone and Congo-mussai whose connections with the other Congo it is difficult to establish in view of contradictory assertions by various informants.{52}

  Racial origin of loa has played a fundamental part in their classification. Most if not all Dahomean or Nigerian loa have been placed automatically in the rada group. The word ‘Dahomey’ is often linked with the word rada or used as a synonym for it. When a devotee talks of the loa of ‘Afrique Guinin’ (African Guinea) he means primarily the rada loa. The petro group also includes many African deities (Agirualinsu, Simbi etc.) but these usually come from some other part of Africa than ancient Dahomey. The majority of the aboriginal spirits, whose Creole names suggest a more or less recent accession to the Voodoo pantheon, are also regarded as petro. These are not always deified ancestors, as might be expected; among them are a few African spirits who have been rechristened with, literally, a Christian name, and whose physical appearance has been modified by living in Haiti. Ti-Jean-petro, for instance, is a treedwelling spirit who is represented as a dwarf with one foot (the Joazinho of Brazilian folklore). This loa with a French name is derived from spirits of the African bush, spirits who are described as having only one leg.

  Today the racial and geographical nature of the classification has been forgotten. The difference between rada and petro is marked more by the characteristics attributed to the loa of the two groups. To some extent they bear the same relation to each other as did in Ancient Greece the Olympian and the chtonian gods. Just as beside the Olympian Zeus there was a chtonian Zeus, so Voodoo has a Legba rada and a Legba petro. These two spirits, although as like each other as brothers, yet have different natures. Legba petro is apparently ‘stiffer’, more violent than his rada alter ego. These are nuances rather than radical differences, but they do give a distinctive colouring to the way in which the faithful represent the loa of these two groups. The word petro inescapably conjures up visions of implacable force, of roughness and even ferocity—qualities which are not a priori associations of the word rada. Epithets such as ‘unyielding’ ‘bitter’ and even ‘salty’ are applied to the petro while the rada are ‘gentle’. The petro loa are, moreover, specialists in magic. All charms come under their control. The frontier which separates white magic from black magic is so vague that spirits who devote themselves to these arts are inevitably slightly suspect. Everything therefore which has to do with petro is shadowed with doubt and inspires fear.

  A hungan who shows too marked a preference for the petro loa will soon become suspect and accused of ‘serving with two hands’, in other words of practising sorcery. My friend Tullius, ill and believing himself bewitched, kept crying out: ‘No, no, I’m not for the petro. All my root-loa are in African Guinea.’ (That is to say in the rada.) By this affirmation he wished to let it be understood that having done wrong to no man, he had been afflicted unjustly. No more delicate praise can be paid to a hungan or a mambo than to say his or her humfo is set beneath the sign of the
rada and that the loa-Guinin-Dahomey are evidently served there.

  Petro loa owe their popularity to their skill as supernatural magicians. They can cure as well as cast spells. When a cure undertaken with rada help fails to give the expected results, a hungan may advise his patient to have recourse to the petro and to submit to rites which, however frightening, can bring about an immediate cure. Whoever swears himself to the petro feels protected against witchcraft. He also may expect to become prosperous because the spirits of that ‘family’ are ‘givers of money’. But the price they claim for their favours is high: any transaction with the petro loa entails risk. They are pitiless creditors who never give an inch on the terms of a contract and, too often, prove insatiable. Woe to him who cannot pay his debts to a petro or fails to keep his promise.

  No one calls the rada ‘eaters of men’. They kill to punish but never, like certain petro, out of sheer spite. Nor will they cooperate with sorcerers. The petro family, on the other hand, includes, along with helpful and decent loa, many diab (devils), ‘eaters of men’. The petro loa who bear a rada name followed by a surname (Damballah-flangbo, Ogu-yansan, Ezili-mapyang etc.) all have a bad reputation. As to the spirits called ‘red-eyes’ (Jé-rouge) they are without exception evil and cannibal. Remember that redness of the eye is a distinctive sign of werewolves. In short even were it untrue to say that all petro loa are by definition evil, it could nevertheless be truly said that the most dreaded loa are placed automatically in this category.

  The confidence inspired by the rada loa and the official nature of their cult, ensures precedence for them at grand ceremonies, particularly at those in which ‘ranks’ in a cult-group are conferred.

  Certain loa occupy a marginal position between rada and petro and are placed either in one group or the other, according to circumstances or personal views. The Simbi, of their very nature, belong to the rada, but they are served in the petro rite since, neglected by their devotees and gnawed by hunger, they tend to turn cruel.

  The chief loa seem to have been freely multiplied by addition to their names of African or Creole surnames. Thus we have Legba-atibon, Legba-si, Legba-sé, Legba-zinchan, Legba-signangon, Legba-katarulo etc. Azaka-vodu, Azaka-médé, Azakasi etc. Ezili-wédo, Ezili-doba etc. In most cases this proliferation of deities has little importance from the religious point of view. They are merely lists of names in liturgical invocation. Probably the surnames themselves are fragments of African liturgical texts, syllables or words which, having become unintelligible, were torn out of context and used as epithets of divinities. The nature of the link between gods of the same name, but different surname, only becomes a problem when the two related gods tend to assume different personalities. For instance Ogu-badagri and Ogu-ferraille can reveal themselves during a ceremony at the same moment—a fact which would suggest that they were not merely ‘forms’ or ‘aspects’ of the same god, but different loa belonging to the same family. All that can be said on this subject is that sometimes the same god is conceived in different forms as with our Virgins whose surname and attributes often vary from church to church, and at other times gods of the same name have finally taken a separate identity and have been set up as independent deities each with their own worship. The hungan Abraham, with whom I discussed this question, said that loa with the same family name ‘worked’ in different directions: in other words that the degree of their supernatural power was not the same. Thus Nago-iki, Nago-oyo, Nago-bolisha, although without distinct separate personality each had their special ‘points’. It is an ingenious interpretation but it represents merely the opinion of one subtle hungan who was inclined to resolve all difficulties by the theory of ‘points’ (mystical power).

  Most hungan and mambo scarcely trouble themselves at all with theological speculation. When the surname and the epithet is Creole, and therefore understood by the faithful, that is enough to give the loa an obvious identity which the possessed try to express in movements and attitudes. For instance Guédé-zaraignée imitates the movements of a spider. Guédé-ti-wawa weeps like a child. In the same way possessions induced by Legba-atibon are not the same as those provoked by Legba-avarada. The former walks leaning on a crutch, the latter, weighed down with illness and old age, lies stretched on a mat and touches the faithful with closed fists. Ezili-taureau (Ezili-bull) bellows, which may seem strange from a loa who bears the name of the most gracious and most coquette of all the Haitian divinities. Certain loa, of outstanding importance, are associated with others of a lesser rank who ‘escort’ or ‘work’ with them. During a possession induced by a great loa, one or two of his followers can sometimes reveal themselves at the same time.

  The diversity of taste and temperament to be found among members of the same fanmi or nanchon, is liable to result in troublesome mix-ups and mistakes in ritual. Madame Mennesson-Rigaud told me the following story which she witnessed herself: a family carrying out a ceremony for Ogu, wanted to sacrifice a goat to him; but the loa, due to possess a woman who was ready to receive him, did not materialize in spite of the efforts of the officiating priests. The woman was made to dance with the goat in her arms, in the hope that the loa would then enter into her. She was then addressed as though she had become the receptacle of the loa. It was a waste of time: she merely kept repeating, ‘I’m tired—leave me alone.’ Finally she shut herself up in the humfo. It was then suggested that a mistake had been made: Ogu-badagri was expected but perhaps Ogu-balindjo had been the one who wanted to come down, and he, not finding the kind of welcome hoped for, had taken offence and left immediately. Hadn’t he been offered rum—a drink he was known to abhor? Finally they managed to bring down Ogu-badagri and the sacrifices could take place.

  The loa, or at any rate the most important ones, live in Guinea. This name has for long been without real geographical meaning, for Guinea is a sort of Valhalla, not situated anywhere. The loa leave it when they are called to the earth. They are also assigned an entirely mythical city: Ville-au-Camps. Unfortunately the information available about this headquarters of the ‘mysteries’, near St-Louis-du-Nord, is rather meagre. The loa also frequent mountains, rocks, caves, rivers and seas. Many live on river-beds or in the depths of the sea. Hungan and mambo with great ‘knowledge’ go and visit them in their watery homes and stay with them for long periods. They come back with new powers and sometimes bring back shells—the concrete proof of their exploit.

  The loa are also present in the sacred trees which grow round the humfo and the country dwellings. Each loa has his favourite variety of tree: the medicinier-béni (Tatropha cureas) is sacred to Legba, the palm-tree to Ayizan and the Twins (marassa), the avocado to Zaka, the mango to Ogu and the bougainvillea to Damballah etc. A tree which is a ‘resting-place’ may be recognized by the candles burning at the foot of it and the offerings left in its roots or hung in its branches. Wherever loa may be they hasten to the call of their servants as soon as they hear prayers or the sound of sacred instruments.

  Each loa has one or two days a week which are sacred to him (e.g., Tuesday and Thursday for Ezili, Thursday for Damballah-wédo etc.). He also has his own colour (white for Agwé and Damballah, red for Ogu, black for Guédé: white and red for Loco, and rose on white for the Congo).

  Of the African myths describing the origin of the gods, their adventures and cosmic rôle, only a few faint traces remain. With difficulty some muddled, and sometimes contradictory, data may be gathered from the mouths of priests about the relationships of the gods, and a few more or less scandalous stories gleaned about their love affairs. Mythology in the narrow sense of the word has been dragged down to the level of village gossip; it is less concerned with the private life of the spirits than with their dealings with the faithful. Voodoo is a practical and utilitarian religion which cares more for earthly than for heavenly goings-on. Its Golden Legend is made up of stories which are of a tedious uniformity. The greater part of them have as theme either the intervention of the loa on behalf of their devotees or the punishment they i
nflict on those who neglect them. This folklore is developed in the sanctuaries, the normal stages of day-to-day incidents provoked by the loa. Hungan and mambo profit indirectly from the prestige which such anecdotes confer on the spirits they serve. They are glad to recount them whenever opportunity offers, and thus, equipping them with a guarantee of authenticity, feed them into the stream of local conversation. The stories end by being known and believed by the whole population of a region.

  Mystical possession exerts a profound influence on this kind of mythology. Spirits, in the flesh-and-blood form of the persons in whom they become incarnate, mix with the common crowd; the public, which frequents the sanctuaries, can therefore see and hear them. Moreover the possessed, by assuming the qualities of the loa and imitating their general appearance, their walk and their voice, help to fix a concrete idea of them in popular tradition. Possession to a certain extent takes the place of the statuary and holy images which are almost certainly lacking in Voodoo. It is said in Haiti that to learn about the loa you must watch the possessed.