We would be wrong to look upon this burlesque interlude as a sacrilege. The hunsi possessed by the Guédé put no malice into their performance. They amused themselves just as did our ancestors who, however devout, saw no harm in taking off the rites and sacred personages for whom, in another time and place, they showed the greatest respect. The curés of those days, more tolerant than the curés of Haiti, knew what was not important and cast no anathema on games which, when all is said and done, were quite harmless.
THE ATTITUDE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH TO VOODOO
The Church is to a certain extent responsible for the survival of African cults in Haiti. In the eighteenth century the instruction of slaves in the religion to which they had been compulsorily admitted by sprinklings of holy water, was entirely neglected. Priests who wished to convert the Blacks came up against the indifference, or more often the hostility, of owners who cared little if their beasts of burden were, or were not, dignified with the status of Christians. Then the struggles for independence and the civil wars which followed each other, practically throughout the whole of the nineteenth century, were scarcely propitious to the diffusion of Christianity. The Concordat of 1860, still in force, provided a formula which was acceptable to national pride but which was to prove obstructive to the establishment of Catholicism. What the Haitian country districts needed were not curés working parishes organized on the pattern of those in France, but missionaries who would have taught the masses and fought idolatry. Even today when schools are beginning to multiply and peasants are no longer cut off in the mountains, I have heard curés say their task should have been approached in the spirit of mission-work. Most Catholic priests in Haiti come from Brittany where there is a seminary specially to train them. When they find themselves confronted, not by good Catholics who dabble in a few harmless superstitions, but by parishioners who are visited by—and maintain familiar relationships with—spirits, they feel bewildered and helpless. Neither the milieu in which they have lived nor their training fits them to face up to such a state of affairs. Far from pitying the ignorance and credulity of their flock, most of them, whether they are French or Haitian, look upon Voodoo as the work of the devil—a demonic manifestation against which they must fight with every means at the Church’s disposal. In this context one curé said to me: ‘Judging by what I have seen with my own eyes, I have to admit that the loa are very real beings. Is it not true that there is a devil? The people of this country are truly possessed by the Fiend for it is by our prayers that we manage to deliver them. Before going into a seminary I witnessed many strange happenings. For instance a woman bending a bar of iron made red hot. Do you suppose such a thing would be possible without supernatural intervention? Was she not possessed by the devil?’
The catechisms used in the country districts give a clear picture of the clergy’s attitude to Voodoo:
31. Who is the principal slave of Satan?—the principal slave of Satan is the hungan.
32. What are the names given by hungan to Satan?—The names given to Satan by hungan are loa, angels, saints, morts, marassa.
33. Why do hungan give Satan the names of angels, saints, and morts? Hungan call Satan after saints, angels and morts in order to deceive us more easily.
34. How do men serve Satan?—In sinning, casting spells, practising magic, giving food-offerings, manger les anges, manger marassa...
37. Are we allowed to mingle with the slaves of Satan?—No, because they are evil-doers; like Satan himself they are liars.
Even more precise is this definition, copied into a manuscript catechism which was going about the Marbial Valley: ‘A loa is a wicked angel who revolted against God and for that reason is in Hell.’
The only divergence of opinion between the pastors and their flock on this point turns on the very different character which they attribute to supernatural beings. To those who tell them the loa are so many minor ‘satans’ they reply that since God created them loa can hardly be bad and that anyhow there is no shortage of proof of their goodwill and compassion; it is true certain spirits are prepared to help wicked people and make themselves feared for their violence and cruelty, but they alone deserve the name of diab: nice people have nothing to do with them and their victims should try and appease them, without, however, stooping to crime. No more than man does God approve the carry-on of ‘bad loa’ and ‘bought loa’ employed by sorcerers to further their evil designs.
In 1941, given a strong hand by the more or less open support of the government, the clergy determined to intensify its campaign against the outer manifestations of Voodoo and to bring the peasantry as quickly as possible to an undiluted form of Catholicism.
The first official attempt on the part of the Church to combat Voodoo dates back to 1896. The Bishop of Cap Haitien, Monseigneur Kersuzan, launched against ‘superstition’ a campaign of conferences, gatherings and sermons which resulted in the creation of the ‘League against Voodoo’, an organization which in the parishes was to work through the curés—but the success of this league was apparently moderate. In a synodical address Monseigneur Kersuzan complained of not being supported by the authorities, although the President himself had assured him of his support. He added ‘in certain places even intelligent and educated people are siding with fetishism and this is leading the common folk astray’.
In the same breath as he denounced the evils of Voodoo, Monseigneur Kersuzan threatened Voodooists with serious sanctions. Those who took part in a ceremony were deprived of the right to communicate, hungan and mambo could not become godfathers or godmothers, and for their absolution they had to go to the diocesan bishop. In 1913 the Episcopate returned to the attack. The ‘monstrous mixture’ became the target of a collective pastoral letter.
These first skirmishes resulted in very little and were quickly forgotten. The real battle between the Church and Voodoo was only joined in 1939, during the presidency of Elie Lescot. Monseigneur X tells us the campaign was set off by ‘the discovery, in truly providential circumstances, of the existence of the “mixture” (le mélange) and above all by the discovery that this abomination was not only the way of one isolated person but the current practice of the whole body of converts’.
The tardiness of this ‘discovery’ shows a fine indifference on the part of the Haitian clergy to all that had been written about Voodoo long before it became aware of the existence of this abominable mélange. Perhaps they can scarcely be blamed for having ignored the brilliant study which Melville J. Herskovits devoted to the interpenetration of African and Catholic cults in his book In a Haitian Valley, but it is impossible not to be amazed by their blindness when one thinks of the daily opportunity of country curés to become acquainted with Voodoo belief and practice.
The ‘discovery’ referred to by Monseigneur X thus hardened the will of the clergy to combat the paganism of their flocks at all costs. The extremely vigorous campaign which it was to undertake to root out Voodoo, had, as its precursor, a man of the people called Ti-Jules (whose real name was St. Giles-St. Pierre) who lived in the neighbourhood of Trou d’Eau near Hinche. Like all Haitian peasants he was a convinced Voodooist. Three of his children being ill he took them to a hungan. At first he strictly adhered to whatever the healer prescribed: his house became full of ‘knotted strings’, ‘indigo crosses’ had been painted everywhere, and he gave his children ‘ill-smelling baths’ (basins sentis) to turn away from them the fury of the wicked spirits. However, he was experiencing certain scruples in preferring all this magical cookery to the protection of Almighty God. One morning, rising from prayer, he suddenly began to destroy and throw away not only what the hungan had introduced to his house, but all that the hungan had ever touched: tables, chairs, plates, cups—all was sacrificed to his virtuous indignation. To his dejected family he explained ‘we must rid ourselves of every trace of Satan so that God will take care of us.’ The subsequent recovery of his children confirmed him in his rebellion against the loa. He became a lay preacher and began exhorting h
is neighbours to serve God ‘without mixture’. A vision soon gave his mission divine sanction: he saw two ‘pères’ who came into his hut with radiant faces, made him sit down and told him in the name of God he must ‘guide people from magic and put them on the true path’. They explained to him the truths and the prayers he must teach to all who came in search of him, and the means of giving up the loa.
News of this miracle spread and a great many people came in search of Ti-Jules to learn how to serve God ‘without mixture’. He made them kneel, crossed himself, and having made them say a few prayers such as the Credo and Confiteor, asked them to destroy their sanctuaries and cut down their sacred trees (arbres reposoirs). He then made them repeat a text in which as a repentant Voodooist they renounced all service of loa. This ended with the phrase: ‘Ak pitit ak travo, m’dètaché, m’ataché, m’rénôsé’ (with my children with my work, I detach myself, I attach myself, I recant).
Those who declared their intention of renouncing, from then on had to fulfil their religious duties punctiliously, get married if they lived in sin and avoid all contact with Voodoo.
Ti-Jules’s success was so great that thousands of peasants of Artibonite and the north went as pilgrims to Trou d’Eau and returned home changed beings. Ti-Jules was soon to know the fate of all prophets. His neighbours, jealous of his ascendancy, and offended in their beliefs and traditions, denounced him to the curé as a heretic ‘so blinded by his own pretensions as to have invented a new religion’. The curé, before whom Ti-Jules was brought, found nothing very reprehensible in his behaviour or in what he said. The hungan and boko then got at the civil authority and described Ti-Jules as a magician who ‘turned people’s heads’ by means of ‘cabalistic words and instruments’ and who, at his home, ‘organized meetings dangerous to the security of the State.’ The reformer was arrested, thrown into prison and although acquitted by the court nevertheless had to pay out a considerable sum of money.
But the persecutions visited upon him merely increased his reputation. The faithful came in ever greater numbers to be freed from the grip of loa. On the advice of the archdiocese, Ti-Jules was asked to refer his penitents to the curés of their respective parishes. Thus started the movement of those who were called the ‘rejetés’—‘rejectors’. Among these a certain Simon who had been seven years under boko for treatment, distinguished himself by his zeal. He accompanied the curés on their rounds and his words were given greater weight by his habit of accusing himself of those very sins from which he wished to preserve his compatriots.
The Catholic chroniclers of this anti-superstition crusade made no bones about the pain and general disturbance caused by these violent accusings and threats of eternal punishment for all who refused to give up the cult of loa. This general crise de conscience resulted in a revelation—to the clergy—of the number of ‘converts’ who had remained faithful to Voodoo. ‘All converts or dévotions—that is to say all the faithful—were deep in superstition. Even the directors of chapels whose duty it was to catechize others, were no exception. In nearly every dwelling there was to be found a little loa-house (maison-loa) and all the other objects of superstition. Astonishment gradually turned to stupor but before such an array of facts there could be no more argument: henceforward it was established that nearly all our converts were practising “the mixture”.’
The Church then took a step which was to provoke profound indignation even in those quarters from which it might have expected most support. The clergy decided to insist upon an anti-superstitious oath—to be taken by all the faithful. Here is the text of this oath—the oath of the so-called ‘rejectors’.
‘I before God, stand in the Tabernacle, before the priest who represents Him and renew the promises of my baptism. With hand on the Gospels I swear never to give a food-offering (manger-loa) of whatever kind—never to attend a Voodoo ceremony of whatever kind, never to take part in a service to loa in any way whatsoever.
‘I promise to destroy or have destroyed as soon as possible all fetishes and objects of superstition, if any—on me, in my house, and in my compound.
‘In short I swear never to sink to any superstitious practice whatever.
[For married persons] ‘I promise moreover to bring up my children without exception in the Catholic and Roman religion, outside all superstition, submitting myself fully to the teaching of this Holy Church.
‘And I promise that with God’s help I shall abide by my oath until death.’
Members of the ‘élite’ and even of the middle classes, were outraged they should be required to take an oath which suggested they were suspected of sharing peasant beliefs and practices. Their indignation knew no limits. In vain the curés told them that it was precisely because they were good Catholics that they were being asked to make a show of solidarity and separate themselves from those who practised le mélange. It was no good: they still saw in this measure nothing but humiliation and persecution. The fact that it was imposed upon them by white priests increased their resentment. It confirmed their suspicions that the foreign priesthood looked upon them as so many savages. Sermons, conferences, reunions, home visits—nothing was neglected in the effort to make them see that the oath was necessary. But in a parish which included some 2,000 regular church-goers no more than a few dozen agreed to take the oath. In the whole of the Gonaïves diocese only 3,000 were sworn in. The bishops attributed this set-back not to hurt vanity but to the attachment of so-called Catholics to Voodoo, and to their refusal to break with ‘superstition’. In my opinion priests, thinking thus, had rushed from an excess of optimism to one of pessimism. If indeed it be true that a great many of their parishioners preferred to be deprived of the right to communicate rather than desert their humfo, then many others certainly regarded the oath as a shameful admission, incompatible with their personal dignity.
The disillusion, which the clergy confess they felt, was largely compensated by the mass conversions of Voodooists who, seized by a vague collective enthusiasm, ‘abjured’ in large numbers and came flocking to the priests, asking them to destroy the ritual objects which they possessed and to ‘free them from the impossible obligations which had been imposed upon them’. The ‘obligations’ which Voodoo imposes on its devotees explain in many cases the ease with which many of them abjured and the enthusiasm they showed—probably to cover secret misgivings. Finally, peasant populations are easily carried away—sometimes as briefly as violently. It would be as unjust to deny the spontaneity of some conversions as to pretend there was no coercion. From the Catholic point of view very serious sanctions were taken against all who attended or took part in, actively or passively, any Voodoo ceremony. The mere wearing of an amulet entailed six months’ penitence. Fearing they would be deprived of the sacraments, to which they attached the greatest importance, many Voodooists promised to break with the loa. Up to this point the Church kept within its rights. Now it changed its tactics and secured the support of the secular arm: on the demand of the clergy, President Lescot ordered the army to cooperate with the curés in their hunting-down of all objects to do with the Voodoo cult.
Strengthened by the more or less open support of the government, the curés had the humfo shut up or destroyed and thousands of sacred objects were burnt in veritable auto-da-fés. I was in Haiti in 1941 and I remember seeing in the back-yards of presbyteries vast pyramids of drums, painted bowls, necklaces, talismans—all waiting for the day fixed for the joyous blaze which was to symbolize the victory of the Church over Satan.
The peasantry whose sanctuaries had been pillaged and who could no longer battre tambour (beat their drums) to summon the loa of Africa, finally began to express their resentment more or less openly—in some regions by staging religious strikes. In addition both Press and public opinion disapproved the often immoderate zeal of certain priests. The government, aware of the hostility of the bourgeoisie and people for the clergy, withdrew its support. On February 22, 1942, shots were fired in the church of Delmas, near Port-au-Pri
nce just when a Haitian priest was saying a Mass which was to inaugurate a new week of preaching against superstition. The Catholic newspapers let it be clearly understood that this affair was an act of government provocation—alleging that police disguised as peasants had been sent to Delmas. The fact is the government did immediately seize on the affair as a pretext for curbing the anti-Voodoo campaign. Monseigneur X himself relates how, after the earlier enthusiasm for the renonce there was now a massive swing back to ‘superstition’.
With great honesty he admits ‘the greater part of that mass which had rejoiced to be delivered from its slavery, now, once more, took up their chains’. Voodoo sanctuaries opened again and, little by little, the faithful gathered again round hungan and mambo. Under the government of President Estimé (1946-52), Voodoo emerged completely from semi-clandestinity. Many black intellectuals who supported the new régime professed to admire Voodoo as an expression of the popular soul. It was natural for a government which claimed to be sprung from the masses and to represent the authentiques, that is to say Haitians of pure negro stock, to show itself tolerant of, and even kindly disposed to, the popular religion. In spite of the economic distress which afflicted country districts, the presidency of Estimé was marked by a revival of Voodoo. Many adepts had been nourishing the desire to regain the favour of the loa whose worship they had only neglected out of fear of curés or police.
Voodoo in Haiti Page 37
