AFRICAN GODS IN
CONTEMPORARY BRAZIL:
A Sociological Introduction to Candomblé Today
by Reginaldo Prandi
(University of São Paulo, Brazil)
In Brazil,
Catholicism has historically been the major religion, Protestants and other
faiths being a small minority (Camargo, 1973). Within this second group are the
so-called Afro-Brazilian cults, which, until the 1930's, could be included in
the category of ethnic religions that preserved the traditions of the former
African slaves and their descendants (Bastide, 1978 a; Carneiro, 1936). These
religions existed in different areas of Brazil with different rites and local names
derived from diverse African traditions: Candomblé in Bahia1, Xangô in Pernambuco and Alagoas2, Tambor de Mina in Maranhão and Pará3, Batuque in Rio Grande do Sul4, and Macumba in Rio de Janeiro. It seems
that the resurgence of those black religions in Brazil occurred fairly
recently. Since the African people brought to the New World during the final
period of slavery (the last decades of the 19th. century) were located mostly
in cities for urban jobs, they were able to live physically and socially in
closer proximity than they had done before, and this fact provided the
propitious social conditions for some African religions to survive. At the end
of the 19th. century, several Protestant denominations as well as French
Spiritism (founded by Allan Kardec) were introduced into Brazil. These
religions flourished, but Catholicism continued as the preference of more than
90% of the Brazilian population until the 1950's, although in the country's
most industrialized region, the Southeast, there has always been a lower percentage
of Catholics. Here was a more marked increase took place in the number of
Protestants, Kardecist Spiritist and followers of Umbanda, an Afro-Brazilian
religion that emerged in the 1930's in Brazil most developed urban areas and
which, despite its origins in the black population, does not seek to preserve
an African cultural patrimony in a "pure" form.
The recent process of
religious conversion in Brazil is complex and dynamic, with its incorporation
and even creation of some new religions. The three most important religious
groups in terms of the number of followers are: Catholicism in both its
traditional and modern forms; Protestantism, which presents multiple facets;
and a diverse array of Afro-Brazilian religions. Nowadays, Afro-Brazilian
religions, Pentecostalism -- a form of Protestantism which originated in the
United States (Rolim, 1985) -- and two recent expressions of popular
Catholicism, the Christian Base Communities – CEBs -- (Pierucci & Prandi,
1996) and the Charismatic Renovation Movement -- also from the United States
(Prandi, 1997) -- have became increasingly popular. As a result of syncretism
the followers of the Afro-Brazilian religions continue to identify themselves
as Catholic. For this reason it is extremely difficult to calculate their
numbers. Estimates indicate they account for about 8% of the Brazilian
population, while approximately 70% define themselves as "officially"
belonging to the Catholic Church. Pentecostalism represents somewhere between
10 and 20% of the total.
Umbanda, Brazil's
most important popular religion, has an identity native to Brazil but draws
heavily on African, American and European religious traditions.5 As a religion, Umbanda has sought to legitimize
itself by erasing some features of Candomblé, especially those referring to
Africa, slavery and tribal behaviour and mentality (Ortiz, 1978). As compared
to Candomblé, the Umbanda initiation process is simpler, cheaper, and its
rituals do not demand blood sacrifices. The spirits of Caboclos (Indians) and
Pretos Velhos (Old Slaves) manifest themselves through the bodies of initiated
when they are in a ritual trance in order to dance, give some advice and cure
those who look for any religious or magical help. Umbanda absorbed from
Kardecist Spiritism something of the Christian virtues of charity and altruism,
thus making itself a more Occidental religion than the other Afro-Brazilian
ones.
Since its early
times the African cults of Òrìñà6 in Brazil have to a certain degree undergone
syncretism with Catholicism and Brazilian indigenous religions one of their
most important characteristics being the worship of saints, in keeping with the
Catholic traditions that existed prior to the reforms of Vatican II.7 Contributions from French Kardecist
Spiritism were added later, especially the idea of communicating with the
spirits of the dead in a state of trance with the goal of practising Christian
charity, since the living should help those who suffer in this world as well as
the dead who still have not achieved eternal peace. As I have already
mentioned, around 1930, in Rio de Janeiro, the traditional Afro-Brazilian
religion gave birth to Umbanda, a major step towards turning these religions
with African roots fully Brazilian. This step moved it closer to Catholicism,
indigenous faiths and Kardecist Spiritism, rather than to its sources in Africa.
Until recently, many social researchers linked Candomblé to the Blacks and
Mulattos of Bahia and Pernambuco, its following in Rio de Janeiro and other
Brazilian states being less numerous. Umbanda, however, became a religion that
transcended issues of color and race.
Since the 1950's
Umbanda has been a very popular religion among the poor and the lower middle
classes. It is impossible to imagine any synthesis of Brazilian contemporary
popular culture without considering the devotion to the Òrìñà as one of its
fundamental elements. The cultural influence of the Afro-Brazilian religions is
present in all areas: music, theater, cinema, the arts in general, literature,
cuisine, etc. The largest religious festivity in Brazil today is the event
which takes place on beaches throughout the country on the 31st of December --
the tribute paid to Yemöja (goddess of the Seas, the Great Mother). Every year
some hundreds of thousand people from the city of São Paulo celebrate this
event at the beaches of Santos (50 miles from the city of São Paulo).
By the 1950's
Umbanda had become a religion for all sorts of people regardless of color,
race, social or geographical origin. In fact, many Umbanda followers are of
European descent. Although Umbanda has no fixed social class boundaries, most
of its followers are poor -- maybe because most of the Brazilian people
themselves are poor. Because Umbanda developed its own outlook on life, a kind
of mosaic of elements from Catholicism, Kardecist Spiritism and Candomblé, it
could claim a transcendence that enabled it either to replace the old Catholic
traditions or to join Catholicism as a supporting vehicle which would provide a
renewed religious sense of life. After consolidating its features as a
universal religion in Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo, Umbanda spread throughout
the country, and can now be found in Argentina and other Latin-American
countries as well.8
During the 1960's
something surprising started to happen. With the large emigration from the
Northeast (the poorest and most traditional region of Brazil, with an agrarian
economy subject to prolonged periods of severe drought) to the Southeast of the
country (the modern and industrialized region that absorbs the workers who come
from the poorest areas), Candomblé began to penetrate Umbanda's
well-established territory, and followers of Umbanda began to convert to
Candomblé and to abandon Umbanda. The movement grew and it led Umbandists back
to the old Candomblé, to the so-called true, original, more mysteriously
sacred, religious matrix that Umbanda had once come from. During this period of
Brazil's history, these older traditions found a more favorable economic
situation in which to develop, since Candomblé's religious ceremonies require
significant expenses. Also, it was a time when important middle class social
movements searched for what could be taken as the original roots of Brazilian
culture. Intellectuals, poets, students, writers, and artists participated in
that quest which wound up at the front doors of the old Candomblé houses in the
city of Salvador, capital of the state of Bahia, in the Northeast. Travelling
to Salvador to have one's future read by the mães-de-santo of Candomblé (the
high priestesses of the terreiros – shrines -- of the religion of Òrìñà) became
a must for many, a need that filled a lack of transcendence that had dominated
in the secularized, modern lifestyle of the big, industrialized cities in the
Southeast (Prandi, 1991 a).
Candomblé found
all the social, cultural and economic conditions it needed to be reborn. From
then on it was no longer a religion whose followers would only be black. Poor
people of all ethnic and racial origins could be found at the terreiros. To
give some idea of the social significance of the Afro-Brazilian religions,
according to our latest estimates there exist approximately 50 thousand
Afro-Brazilian worship centers among the 16-million inhabitants of greater São
Paulo city (which includes neighboring municipalities), 4 thousand of which are
Candomblé while the remaining are Umbanda.
Candomblé can be
divided into different "nations" in accordance with the ethnic origins
preserved in the rites (Lima, 1984). Basically, the ancient African cultures
that have been the main sources of the current "nations" of Candomblé
were brought from the Bantu cultural areas (today corresponding to the
countries of Angola, Congo, Gabon, Zaire, and Mozambique) and the Sudan
cultures of the Gulf of Guinea: Yoruba and Ewe-Fon (corresponding to the
present countries of Nigeria and Benin). These, however, do overlap.
In the so-called
Kétu "nation", in Bahia, the Yoruba pantheon of Òrìñà and iniciation
rites predominate. The ritual language also has a Yoruban dialectal source,
although, over time, the meaning of the words has been lost and the sacred
songs can no longer be translated. The following "nations" are also
of Yoruba origin: the Nagô in Pernambuco, the Efan in Bahia, and the Batuque in
Rio Grande do Sul. The Angola "nation", with Bantu sources, adopted
the pantheon of the Òrìñà of the Yorubans as well as many of the initiation
practices of the Kétu "nation", but its ritual language, also
untranslatable, originates from the Kimbundo language. In this
"nation" of primary importance is the worship of the caboclos,
indigenous spirits, considered by the Angola "nation" as the true
Brazilian ancestors. It was probably the Angola Candomblé that gave rise to
Umbanda. The Jeje-Mahin "nation" of the state of Bahia and the Mina
-- Jeje "nation" of the state
of Maranhão are related to the Fon traditions. The Jeje "nations"
worship voodoos instead of Òrìñà, and their ritual language is of Fon origin.
The Kétu
Camdomblé's initiation
The
priesthood and the organization of rites for the worship of these divinities
are quite complex. At the same time, there is one pivotal religious mechanism
-- the rite of trances that allows the gods to manifest themselves through the
bodies of the priests during the ceremonies in order to dance and be admired,
praised, worshipped. The initiates, called filhos-de-santo or filhas-de-santo
(ìyàwó in ritual language), are also called "horses of the gods"
since the trance basically is a means of allowing oneself to be
"mounted" and "ridden" by the Òrìñà. But the process of
becoming an initiate is a long, expensive and difficult road, the different
stages of which in the Kétu "nation" can be summarized as follows:
To
begin with, the mãe-de-santo (called Ìyálórìñà in the ritual language) needs to
ascertain by means of the oracle of the sixteen cowries (the jogo de búzios)9 which
Òrìñà is the "owner" of the head of the particular individual. He or
she then receives a necklace of beads in the colours that symbolize his or her
Òrìñà (see Annex) and begins the apprenticeship. The first
private ceremony that the novice (abíyán) will undergo consists of a series of
votive sacrifices to the novice's own head (börí), so that the head may be
strengthened and prepared to receive one day the Òrìñà in a trance of
possession. For the initiation as a horse of the gods, the novice must obtain
enough money to cover the cost of offerings (animals and a wide variety of food
and objects), ceremonial clothing, ritual utensils, and of being unable to work
during the initiation period that ends with a festive ceremony in which the
novice's Òrìñà is presented to the community.
As
part of the initiation, the novice remains in seclusion in the terreiro for a
minimum apprenticeship of 21 days. During the final days of this period the
novice's head is shaved and his body painted. An image of the Òrìñà
(igbá-òrìñà) of the novice is washed in a preparation of sacred leaves (amasi)
and the blood sacrifice (orò) takes place. Depending on the Òrìñà (see Annex) the following animals may be offered:
goats, kids, sheep, hens or roosters, or ducks and snails. Finally, in a big,
public festive ceremony the newly-initiated person is presented. He or she is
incorporated into the terreiro, and his or her particular Òrìñà utters the name
by which the Òrìñà will be praised when the Òrìñà mounts the filho(a)-de-santo
and then dances. The entire ceremony is sung to the rhythm of the three sacred
drums (the three atabaques, that are called run, rumpi, and lé).
In
Candomblé there is always drumming, singing, dancing and eating (Motta, 1988).
At the end there is a great communal banquet (ajeun, which means "let us
eat") that has been prepared from the meat of the sacrificed animals. This
new filho(a)-de-santo (ìyàwó) will offer sacrifices and festive ceremonies on a
more reduced scale on the first, third and seventh anniversaries of his or her
initiation. After this seven-year period the person becomes a full priest or
priestess (Ýgbïnmi, a person who is a senior), and will offer the festive
ceremonies every seven years. When the Ýgbïnmi dies, the funeral rites (añeñe)
is carried out by the community so that the Òrìñà that resides within that head
returns to the parallel world of the gods (Îrun) and the spirit of the dead
person (egún) is set free, to be born again some day and thereby be able to
enjoy the pleasures of this world.
Religion, ethics,
ritual
Candomblé
works in an ethical context in which the Judeo-Christian notion of sin does not
make any sense. The difference between good and evil basically depends upon the
relationship between the follower and his or her personal god, the Òrìñà.
As I
tried to show briefly, the initiation is endless, gradual and secret. The
worship itself demands sacrifices of animal blood, offerings of food and
various ingredients. The meat of the animals slaughtered during the ritualistic
sacrifices is eaten by the members of the religious community. The blood - as
well as certain parts, such as the head, paws, specific internal organs, etc. -
are offered to the gods, the Òrìñà. Only initiates have access to the
sacrificial ceremonies carried out in the private chambers of the Òrìñà
(quartos-de-santo), the same space in which the cult's apprenticeship is
imparted. Since religious instruction always takes place far from the public
gaze, performed during periods of seclusion in rooms open to initiated devotees
only, the religion itself is shrouded in mystery.
Nevertheless,
all the dances (which are the culminating point of the celebrations) take place
in an open area called the barracão, and this space is open to the public. As I
have already mentioned, these public ceremonies (called toques) mark the end of
several days of "obligations" that include the sacrifice of animals
and food as well as sexual prohibitions for those being initiated and seclusion.
A toque is a ceremony performed with song and dance to the beat of the sacred
drums. One by one each Òrìñà is honoured: his or her sons and daughters fall
into trance, "receiving" the divinity in their bodies that are
dressed in the proper garments and regalia of their personal gods who then
dance and dance and dance. This sequence of songs and dance is called ñirè,
which in Yoruba means "let us play".
Gods, followers
and clients
Apart
from serving the initiated, Candomblé meets the demand for magical-religious
services from a large clientele which does not necessarily take part in the
worship ceremonies. The "clients" seek out the mãe-de-santo or
pai-de-santo for the cowries game (jogo de búzios), the Òrìñà's Oracle, and
through it predictions are made, problems are solved and ritualistic means to
manipulate circumstances are prescribed. The client pays for the cowries games
and, eventually, for the carrying out of the propitiatory sacrifice (ëbö) that
is recommended for the client's specific case. The client always finds out
which Òrìñà is the "owner" of his or her head and can attend one or
more festive celebrations to which the client might make some financial
contribution even though he or she has no religious commitment to Candomblé.
The client knows next to nothing about the initiation process and does not even
participate in it. The client, however, is important in two ways: first of all,
his or her demand for services helps to legitimize the terreiro and the
religious group in social terms. Secondly, it is from this client that a
substantial part of the funds necessary for the expenses of the group is
derived. In general, the Candomblé priests and priestesses who achieve high
levels of prestige have influential members of society as clients.
Devotees
of Afro-Brazilian religions may also worship mythical entities other than the
Òrìñà from Africa, such as the encantados (charmed beings who lived a long time
ago) or caboclos (spirits of dead Brazilian Indians). During the ritual trance,
the encantados talk to their followers and friends, offering advice and forms
of treatment for all kinds of problems. The order of rank of African divinities
and encantados in the terreiros varies within each "nation" of
Candomblé. Encantados or caboclos are the center of worship in Umbanda and in
Candomblé de Caboclo, where they play a sacred role even more important than
the Òrìñà themselves (Santos, 1995).
According to
Candomblé, every person belongs to a certain god, "master" of his or
her head and mind and from whom physical and personality characteristics are
inherited.10 It
is the religious prerogative of the pai-de-santo or mãe-de-santo, to find out
by means of the game of 16 cowries (jogo de búzios) to which Òrìñà (god or
goddess) one belongs. This knowledge is absolutely imperative to begin the
process of initiation of new devotees and even to foresee the future for
clients and solve their troubles. Even among non-believers it is a Brazilian
custom to know one's Òrìñà.
Despite the
approximately 400 Òrìñà worshipped in Africa, only about twenty Òrìñà are
revered in Brazil. Each one has his or her own characteristics, elements of
nature, symbolic colour, garments, songs, food, drinks, type of personality,
desires, faults etc. There is no Òrìñà entirely "good" or
"bad". As I mentioned before, the religion of Òrìñà in Brazil has no
notion of sin. Followers believe that men and women inherit many of the Òrìñà's
attributes, particularly those related to behaviour and personality. People
believe that one behaves in ways that resemble the conduct of one's Òrìñà in
the same situation. This legitimizes both one's failures and achievements.
Let me briefly present
here some of the Òrìñà and the characteristics that their "children",
or followers, are believed to receive from them. I have selected those that
have been the most popular Òrìñà throughout Brazil and also at the 60
"terreiros" I have studied in the city of São Paulo. (See Annex.)
Èñù - Messenger god, a trickster divinity. At any
ceremony, always the first god to whom homage is paid in order to avoid his
anger and consequent disruption of everything. Overseer of cross-roads and
exits to the streets. Syncretism with the Christian devil. His symbol is a clay
phallus or iron prongs. Followers believe that people consecrated to Èñù are
intelligent, licentious, erotic, and dirty. They like to eat and drink too
much. One should never trust a son or a daughter of Èñù. They are the best for
sex, but they decide when. They never marry, too reckless and too smart,
walking all alone through the streets, drinking and watching over the
cross-roads forever. Pay Èñù some money, some food, some attention whenever he
does you a favor. Èñù's people never do anything for nothing, at least
according to ancient African myths and current Brazilian popular uses.
Ògún - God of war, iron, metal craft and technology.
Syncretism with Saint Anthony or St. George. The Òrìñà which has the power to
clear all paths. Stereotypes show Ògún's children as stubborn, passionate, cold
and rational. They well fit a workaholic mind. Although they usually do
anything for a friend, Ògún's sons and daughters do not know how to love
without hurting: they're heartbreakers. Ògún's people are believed to be as
good at sex fulfillment as Èñù's. Ògún and Èñù are brothers. People usually say
that the "families" of both are particularly well-built and mentally
geared to sex. Nonetheless, they also do many other interesting, practical
things as well. They are more suitable for blue-collar work than for
intellectual jobs. They also perform well as warriors.
Îñïîsì - God of hunting. Young and a warrior.
Syncretism with St. George and St. Sebastian. Affluence Òrìñà. His people are
slender, and curious. They just can't be monogamous for they have to run around
night and day. Yet they make good fathers and good mothers. They are friendly,
sometimes a little simple-minded, and very patient. They are known as lonesome
people. They know that, so they don't despair if and when they find themselves
all alone in the middle of the night. An Îñïîsì-person looks for and enjoys
lovers, but if he or she doesn't have a lover, he or she is satisfied with
discreetly masturbating. "Life is just like that," he or she would
say. The Îñïîsìi-people are eternal adolescents. Just don't ask the people of
the god of hunting to wait for you. They feel free to break commitments; they
hardly understand the meaning of making or keeping appointments. So tradition
says, so tradition teaches.
Obaluàiyé or Ömölu - God of small-pox, plagues and of
illness in general. Nowadays considered the god of AIDS. Connected to all kinds
of illnesses, cures, cemeteries, the soil and subsoil. Syncretism with St.
Lazarus. These people seem to be the really depressed and depressive ones. They
are negative, pessimistic and spiteful. They look as if they are unfriendly,
but in reality they are shy and ashamed of their awful appearance. Be friends
with them and you will find out that all they need to be the best people in the
world is some attention and a little bit of love. When they get old some become
incredibly wise, while others die ordinary idiots.
Ñàngó - God of thunder and justice. Syncretism with
St. Bartholomew. Appeals to him are made in matters involving business, justice
and red-tape. People of Ñàngó are born to be Kings and Queens, but they usually
aren't. Children of Ñàngó are stubborn, resolute, glutton for food, money,
power and women. A Ñàngó-person likes to have many lovers even though he or she
does not have the sexual potence to maintain more than one relationship for
much time. They live to fight, to involve people in their own personal wars.
They enjoy warring, in spite of getting fatter and fatter. To be fair, it must
be said that a Ñàngó-person is the fairest judge someone could ever wish for.
They make good friends and excellent parents.
Îñun - Goddess of fresh water, gold, fertility and
love. Syncretism with "Nossa Senhora das Candeias" (Our Blessed
Virgin of the Candles), among other names given to the Virgin Mary. Mistress of
vanity, she is Ñàngó's favorite wife. Îñun's people are attractive, seductive
and real flirts. They know how to manage love affairs and they are good at
witchcraft; they foresee the future and guess secrets and mysteries. They enjoy
the beauty they think they rightly bear. They can be very vain and arrogant.
They know everything about love, dating, marriage, having a family and raising
children easily, carelessly. They never get poor, never face loneliness. At
least this is the appearance a son or a daughter of Îñun always likes to give.
Yánsàn or Öyá - Goddess of lightning, wind and storms.
A woman warrior, she is the Òrìñà who takes the souls of the dead to the other
world. Syncretism with St. Barbara. She is Ñàngó's most important wife. Sons
and daughters of Yánsàn like sex too much and have many lovers. Goddess of
eroticism, she is a kind of feminist entity. Yánsàn-people are brave, talkative
and brilliant. They dislike running errands for they feel they are Queens or
Kings. They are communicative, like to show off and be the center of attention.
They can lay down their lives for their beloved, but they never forgive any
treason, particularly in matters of love.
Yemöja - Goddess of the seas and oceans. Worshipped as
the mother of several Òrìñà. Syncretism with Nossa Senhora da Conceição (Our
Mother of Conception), including Nossa Senhora da Conceição Aparecida,
patroness of Brazil for Catholic people. Represented by a mermaid, her statue
can be seen in almost every town along the coast of Brazil. Sons and daughters
of Yemöja are good mothers and fathers. They protect their children, friends
and relatives like lions. Their biggest fault is to talk too much; they can't
keep a secret. They like to work and overcome poverty.
Îñàálá - God of creation. Syncretism with Jesus
Christ. Followers dress in white on Fridays. Always the last to be praised
during Afro-Brazilian religious ceremonies; revered by all the other Òrìñà. As
Creator, he molded the first human beings and blew the breath of life into
them. When revealing himself via trances at Brazilian Candomblés, Îñàálá
presents himself in two forms. Òñàlúfón is old, bent and tired, moving slowly
and hardly able to dance; Òñàgiyán is in his youth and dances like a warrior.
This young god invented the wooden mortar for pounding yam, his favourite food,
and is considered the creator of material culture. Îñàálá is the only divinity
who doesn't like sacrifices of warm-blooded animals (goats, sheep, fowl, etc.),
preferring the cold blood of mollusks (igbin). People of Îñàálá like power,
they appreciate being treated as a King, or at least a boss, preferably the boss.
Some of those consecrated to the old Îñàálá are said not to be very good
lovers, being too tired to make love. Anyway, these people are brilliant, eager
to learn and have a talent for understanding. Challengers, they are a great
help to their friends and great foes to people who oppose them. They never give
up.
I think this
brief illustration is sufficient to provide an understanding of how each Òrìñà
can through religion provide his or her human son or daughter with a divine
pattern of behaviour, elaborated from Yoruban mythology about the Òrìñà who
survived in Brazil.
In fact, the
Candomblé followers can either take their Òriñà's attributes for granted as
though they were their own characteristics and try to look like their god or
goddess or just recognize, through them, symbols that legitimate their conduct.
The patterns of behaviour presented by the Òrìñà's myths may in this way be
used as a model to follow or a kind of social validation for what one already
is like. An initiated person could turn over a new leaf when he or she is told
which Òrìñà his or her head belongs to or could just keep acting as he or she
was used to. This, however, does not change or invalidate the meaning of those
symbols.
In addition,
every initiated person is supposed to have a second Òrìñà who works as an
associate (juntï) of the first one. For example, one says "I'm a son of
Îñàálá and Yemöja." Therefore, this second divinity also has an important
role in this process of constituting behavioural patterns. Besides that, every
private Òrìñà has his or her own particularity, depending on what stage of his
or her mythical biography a particular legend addresses.
Sometimes, when
well-known characteristics of an Òrìñà do not fit at all a person consecrated
to the god, it is not uncommon to state that this god is "wrong" for
that person. This means that a change of divinity must be ritually performed at
once or some "forgotten" myth be found that justifies those
discrepancies. At other times the attributes of the Òrìñà itself do not fit the
life or the patterns of behavior in current society. In this case, they must be
changed. The social construction of religions, with their divinities, symbols,
and meanings is far from being finished.
If religions,
like sciences and other institutional practices, are organized sources of
meaning for life, codes of behavior, or languages for interpreting the world,
for the follower of Candomblé, today, in Brazilian urban centers, what this
religion offers is something different from what the religion of the Òrìñà used
to offer until some time ago. When Candomblé was established in Northeast
Brazil, at the beginning of the 19th century, it enabled black slaves to
recover their lost communitarian-tribal world of Africa. This religion
represented at the time a mechanism by which black Africans and Brazilians
could distance themselves culturally from the world dominated by the white
oppressor. The black slaves could count on a black "world" from an
symbolical African source of resistance to the adversities of the New World,
that was kept alive in the religious life of the terreiro, juxtaposed with the
white world, which was the world of work, slavery and misery. Roger Bastide
comments on this ability of part of the black population during the Colonial
period in Brazil to live in two different worlds at the same time and still
avoid tensions and conflicts: the conflict of contradictory values as well as
the demands of the "two societies" (Bastide, 1978 b).
With the change
of Candomblé into a universal religion, it is no longer focused on
"racial" differences and on the organization of social and cultural
mechanisms of resistance, although Candomblé still continues to serve those
purposes for the black population that lives in some of the more traditional
regions of Brazil. The new reference changes radically the sociological meaning
of this Afro-Brazilian religion, and what was related to "racial"
segregation in a traditional society some decades ago, now has the meaning of a
personal, free and intentional choice: one joins Candomblé not because he or
she is a Negro, but because he or she learns and feels that Candomblé works,
making life easier. Of course, the religion's efficacy only can be evaluated by
the one who elected it, although the process of religious option and conversion
can have some strong social consequences for the whole of society (Prandi,
1992).
The undoing of
ethnic ties that transformed Candomblé over the last 25 years into a religion
for everyone, also provided a significant expansion in the supply of
magical-religious services for the population outside the religious group. This
clientele was already used to composing particular world visions from fragments
of different sources of interpretations of life, so that it can now use the
Candomblé to provide new elements for the construction of a kind of a private,
kaleidoscopic world vision. The middle-class client that usually goes to
Candomblé seeking magical services is, in general, an eclectic who also goes to
many other non-rational sources that offer solutions for the problems of life.
Certainly, for this client Candomblé is quite different from the Candomblé of a
initiate, a devotee. But both are non-contradictory parts of the same reality.
Candomblé is a
religion in which the ritual process is of primary importance. The
differentiation between good and evil in the ethical sense of the Christian
religions is of little consequence in Candomblé. As a religions that is not
dominated by ethical sermons, Candomblé (and, to a lesser degree, Umbanda,
which is heavily influenced by the Christian code of Kardecist Spiritism) is an
important religious alternative for different social groups that live in a
society in which ethics, moral codes and strict standards of behaviour may have
little value or very different ones.
Candomblé is a
religion that affirms the world, recognizing its worth, and that also esteems
many of the things that other religions consider bad: for example, money,
pleasure (including those of the flesh), success and power. The initiate does
not have to internalize patterns of morality that indicate a world different
from the world in which he or she lives. The initiate learns rites that
facilitate living well in this world, which is full of opportunities for
well-being and pleasure. The follower favors the Òrìñà in a constant search for
the best possible balance (even if it is temporary) between that which the
initiate is and has as a human being and that which the initiate would like to
be and have. In this process, it is extremely important for the follower to
completely trust the mãe-de-santo. Guided by her or by him, the follower will
learn and repeat the ritual formulas ad aeternum. One cannot be a follower of
Candomblé without constantly repeating the rite, just as one cannot be a
Protestant without constantly examining one's conscience in search of guilt
that can be exorcised (Souza, 1969). Good Protestants, in order to save
themselves from eternal damnation, need to annihilate their most hidden
desires; the good filho(a) the-santo needs to fulfill his or her desires in
order to make the sacred force of the Òrìñà that moves the world (àñë) stronger
and more dynamic. By accepting the world as it is, Candomblé accepts humanity,
and furthermore, situates humanity at the center of the universe, presenting
itself as a religion that is quite appropriate for the hedonistic and
narcissistic society in which we live.
Because Candomblé
does not distinguish between good and evil in the occidental, Christian sense,
it tends to attract all kinds of individuals who have been socially marked and
marginalized by other religions and non-religious institutions. This also
demonstrate Candomblés' acceptance of the world, even when it has to do with
the world of the street, the underworld, the vendors of sex, and those who have
walked through prison doors. Candomblé possesses a truly exemplary ability to
join saints and sinners, the blemished and the pure, the ugly and the beautiful.
But, if Candomblé liberates the individual, it also liberates the world.
Candomblé has no message for the world: it would not know what to do with the
world if it was given the chance of transforming it. Candomblé is not a
religion based on the word and, therefore, will never have salvation as its
ultimate goals. The ultimate concerns of Candomblé are the concrete issues of
life: illness and pain, unemployment, lack of money, food and shelter... It is,
without a doubt, a religion for the urban centers, though only partially, which
is also the destiny of the other religions in today's world. Candomblé could be
the religion or the magic for the person who is already fed up with the kind of
transcendence made up from reason, science and technology, and who stopped
believing in the meaning of a thoroughly disenchanted world that has left magic
behind in favour of that efficiency of secular, modern thought and technology.
Candomblé could be the religion for the person who cannot find in this
disenchanted, dismagicized world any sense of social justice sufficiently
strong to solve many of the problems that every individual faces over the curse
of a lifetime.
As Candomblé
affirms and expands itself as a socially legitimized institution of magical practices,
it forms part of a civic movement of multiple aspects in which each group of
individuals or even each person is able to construct particular sources of
transcendence and explanations that enable them to act in this world in a
meaningful way. The pragmatic dimension that Candomblé reveals in that it
accepts people as they are or imagine themselves, gives it an advantage in the
religious market where moralistic religions (such as Catholicism and Protestant
denominations) compete for followers, especially in situations where the
consumers are not inclined to change their values systems.
Candomblé also
provides its initiated and non-initiated followers with a very particular
enjoyment of its Afro-Brazilian esthetics, including the fascination provoked
by the cowries game and its way to contact the magical universe of the Òrìñà.
And a client do not have to be member of the religion to enjoy its practices.
He or she just pays for the jogo de búzios and its propitiatory offerings in
order to get help from the African deities in a way widely accepted as a
legitimate part of the Brazilian culture. Candomblé teaches that each person
has his or her own god or goddess who can be worshipped. But no Òrìñà can be
honored before the head of the person is given sacrifice. The head of the human
being, which means his or her personality, is the only way to get to the gods.
An Yoruban proverb frequently heard at the Candomblés says "Orí buruku
kosi Òrìñà", which means "there is no Òrìñà if the head is not
good". And Candomblé teaches how to make heads good. It makes a great
difference in terms of self-esteem.
In the
contemporary urban society, if the construction of different systems of meaning
increasingly depends on the will of the groups and individuals involved, the
relevant religious themes may be chosen according to different private
preferences. Religion too, is now a matter of preference. The extreme would be
if each individual possessed a personal model of religiosity independent of the
great "totalizing" religious system that until quite recently
characterized the history of humanity (Luckmann, 1987). For this reason, the
tribal African gods appropriated by the South American metropolis are no longer
gods of the tribe. They are gods of a civilization in which religious and
magical meanings came to depend on the subjective choices that each person
makes, either alone or in groups. To the initiate, Candomblé can also mean the
possibility of someone, usually poor and socially marginalized, to have a
private god that every one in the community has to honor and praise. In those
moments in which the person is ridden as the horse of the god, he or she will
be in the center of the barracão, the Candomblé's stage, to dance alone and be
admired and acclaimed by everybody, and sometimes even envied. All night long,
the horse of the gods will dance. No one has never seen an Òrìñà as beautiful
as this one.
1 Rodrigues, 1935; Bastide, 1978.
2 Motta, 1982; Motta, 1985; Pinto, 1935
3 S. Ferretti,
1986. M. Ferretti, 1985; M. Ferretti, 1993; Eduardo, 1948.
4 Herskovits, 1943; Corrêa, 1992.
5 Camargo, 1961; Brown, 1987; Concone, 1987.
6 Verger, 1957; Verger, 1985 (a); Verger, 1985 (b).
7 Valente, 1977, S. Ferretti, 1994.
8 Oro, 1993; Frigerio, 1989; Prandi, 1991 (b).
9 Prandi, 1996; Bascom, 1969; Braga, 1988.
10 Verger, 1985 (a); Prandi, 1991 (a); Augras, 1983; Lépine, 1981;
Ligièro, 1993.
Bibliography
AUGRAS, Monique. O duplo e a metamorfose: A identidade mítica
em comunidades nagô. Petrópolis, Vozes, 1983.
BASCOM, William R. Sixteen
Cowries: Yoruba Divination from Africa to the New World. Bloomington,
Indiana University Press, 1969.
BASTIDE, Roger. O candomblé da Bahia: Rito nagô. São
Paulo, Nacional, 1978 (a).
BASTIDE, Roger. The African
Religions of Brazil: Toward a Sociology of the Interpenetration of
Civilizations. Baltimore and London, Johns Hopkins University Press, 1978
(b).
BRAGA, Júlio Santana. O jogo de búzios: Um estudo de adivinhação
no candomblé. São Paulo, Brasiliense, 1988.
BROWN, Diana. Uma história
da umbanda no Rio. In: Umbanda & política. Rio de Janeiro,
ISER & Marco Zero, 1987.
CAMARGO, Candido Procopio
Ferreira de. Kardecismo e umbanda.
São Paulo, Pioneira, 1961.
CAMARGO, Candido Procopio
Ferreira de. Católicos, protestantes,
espíritas. Petrópolis, Vozes, 1973.
CARNEIRO, Edison. Religiões negras. Rio de Janeiro,
Civilização Brasileira, 1936.
CONCONE, Maria Helena Villas
Boas. Umbanda, uma religião brasileira.
São Paulo, Faculdade de Filosofia, Letras e Ciências Humanas da USP, 1987.
CORRÊA, Norton F. Antropologia de uma religião
Afro-Rio-Grandense. Porto Alegre, Editora da Universidade Federal do Rio
Grande do Sul, 1992.
EDUARDO, Octavio da Costa. The Negro in Northern Brazil. Seatle,
University of Washington Press, 1948.
FERRETTI, Mundicarmo Maria
Rocha. Mina, uma religião de origem
africana. São Luís, SIOGE, 1985.
FERRETTI, Mundicarmo Maria
Rocha. Desceu na guma. São Luís,
SIOGE, 1993.
FERRETTI, Sérgio Figueiredo.
Querebentan de Zomadonu: Etnografia da
Casa das Minas. São Luís, Editora da Universidade Federal do Maranhão,
1986.
FERRETTI, Sérgio Figueiredo.
Repensando o sincretismo. São Paulo e
São Luís, Edusp & FAPEMA, 1994.
FRIGERIO, Alejandro. With the
Banner of Oxalá: Social Construction and Maintenance of Reality in Afro-Brazilian
Religions in Argentina. PhD Thesis in Anthropology. Los Angeles, University
of California at Los Angeles, 1989.
HERSKOVITS, Melville J. The Southermost Outpost of the New World
Africanisms. American Anthropologist.
v. 45 (4): 495-590, 1943.
LÉPINE, Claude. Os
estereótipos da personalidade no candomblé nagô. In: MOURA, Carlos Eugênio Marcondes de (ed.). Olóorisa: Escritos sobre a religião dos orixás. São Paulo,
Ágora, 1981.
LIGIÈRO, Zeca. Candomblé is Religion-Life-Art. In: GALEMBO, Peryllis (ed.). Divine
Inspitation. Albuquerque, University of New Mexico Press, 1993.
LIMA, Vivaldo da Costa
(ed.). Encontro de nações de candomblé.
Salvador, Ianamá, 1984.
LUCKMANN, Thomas. Social
Reconstruction of Transcendence. In: Secularization and Religion: The Persisting
Tension. Lausanne, 19eme.Conference
Internationale de Sociologie des Religions, 1987.
MOTTA, Roberto .Comida,
família, dança e transe: Sugestões para o estudo do xangô. Revista de Antropologia, São Paulo, no. 25: 147-157, 1982.
MOTTA, Roberto (ed.). Os afro-brasileiros: Anais do III Congresso
Afro-Brasileiro. Recife, Massangana, 1985.
MOTTA, Roberto. Meat and Feast: The Xango Religion of Recife, Brazil. An Arbor, U.M.I.
Dissertation Services, 1988.
ORO, Ari Pedro (ed.). As religiões afro-brasileiras no Cone Sul.
Porto Alegre, Cadernos de Antropologia da UFRGS, 1993.
ORTIZ, Renato. A morte branca do feiticeiro negro.
Petrópolis, Vozes, 1978.
PIERUCCI Antônio Flávio
& PRANDI, Reginaldo. A realidade
social das religiões no Brasil: Religião, sociedade e política. São Paulo,
Hucitec, 1996.
PINTO Roquette (ed.). Estudos Afro-Brasileiros. Rio de
Janeiro, Ariel, 1935.
PRANDI, Reginaldo. Os candomblés de São Paulo: A velha magia na
metrópole nova. São Paulo, Hucitec & Edusp, 1991 (a).
PRANDI, Reginaldo. Adarrum e
empanadas: Uma visita às religiões afro-brasileiras em Buenos Aires. Estudos Afro-Asiáticos, Rio de Janeiro,
no. 21, p. 157-165, Dez. 1991 (b).
PRANDI, Reginaldo. Perto da
magia, longe da política. Novos estudos
CEBRAP, São Paulo, no. 34, pp. 81-91, Nov. 1992.
PRANDI, Reginaldo. Herdeiras do Axé: Sociologia das religiões
afro-brasileiras. São Paulo, Hucitec, 1996.
PRANDI, Reginaldo. Um sopro do Espírito: A renovação
conservadora do catolicismo carismático. São Paulo, Editora da Universidade
de São Paulo, 1997.
RODRIGUES, Raimundo Nina. O animismo fetichista dos negros bahianos.
2d. ed. Rio de Janeiro, Civilização Brasileira, 1935.
ROLIM, Francisco Cartaxo. Pentecostais no Brasil: Uma interpretação sócio-religiosa.
Petrópolis, Vozes, 1985.
SANTOS, Jocélio Teles dos. O dono da terra: o caboclo nos candomblés da
Bahia. Salvador, SarahLetras, 1995.
SOUZA, Beatriz Muniz de. A experiência da salvação: Pentecostais em
São Paulo. São Paulo, Duas Cidades, 1969.
VALENTE, Waldemar. Sincretismo religioso afro-brasileiro.
3a. ed. São Paulo, Nacional, 1977.
VERGER, Pierre. Notes sur le culte des orisha et vodun à
Bahia, la Baie de Tous les Saints, au Brésil et à l'ancienne Côte des Esclaves
en Afrique. Dakar, I.F.A.N, 1957.
VERGER, Pierre. Orixás: Deuses iorubás na África e no Novo
Mundo. 2a. ed. São Paulo, Corrupio & Círculo do Livro, 1985 (a).
VERGER, Pierre. Lendas africanas dos orixás. Salvador,
Corrupio, 1985 (b).
SOURCE: http://www.candomble.com/htmlen/index.shtml
http://www.candomble.com/cgibin/cando.cgi?introen