In current theories of globalization,
Creole and creolization are often mentioned as synonyms of hybridity and
syncretism. “All these terms, currently used in positive senses to describe the
resilience, creativity, and inevitability of cultural mixture, had extremely
pejorative meanings in the past. In the cases of syncretism and hybridity,
various writers have examined these pasts and re-appropriated the terms through
a positive reevaluation of the political significance of mixture” (Stewart
2007: 4). The strategies of religious syncretism—the active transformation
through renegotiation, reorganization, and redefinition of clashing belief
systems—are consistent with the creolization process.
In African Civilizations in the New
World, Roger Bastide differentiated between various categories of religious
syncretism in the Caribbean, among them morphological or mosaic syncretism
based on the juxtaposition and coexistence of African-derived elements and
Catholic symbols—the Vodou pé, or altars, with stones, wax candles, crosses,
the statues of saints, and pots containing souls of the dead, for example—and
institutional syncretism, which combines prescribed religious observances by
reconciling Christian and African liturgical calendars (1971: 154–156).
The most common, however, is syncretism
by correspondence, or what Leslie Desmangles calls a “symbiosis by identity,”
through which an African deity and a Catholic saint became one on the basis of
mythical or symbolic similarities. 8 Syncretism has been a polemical term for
centuries. In the seventeenth century, it was used to defend “true” religion
against heresy and referred to the “illegitimate reconciliation of opposing
theological views” (Droogers 1989: 9). The term was later applied by scholars
to the early forms of Christianity that were perceived to be syncretic as well
and was later broadened to apply to all religions when a review of religious
history revealed syncretic elements at the foundation of all major religions.
However, syncretism is not a value-free
concept. The identification of Creole religions as “syncretic” is problematical
and disparaging: a Eurocentric bias limits the definition to non-European
religions, negating their full legitimacy. Creole religions are frequently
identified with and “legitimized” by accentuating their Roman Catholic
elements, for example, but are not always afforded an equivalent status. The
term “syncretism” first appeared in Plutarch’s Moralia in reference to the
behavior of the Cretan peoples who “mixed together,” came to an agreement, or
closed ranks when confronted by a mutual enemy; it was later used to describe
the integration of two or more separate beliefs into a new religion. Thus, from
its origins, the term presupposes encounter and confrontation between systems:
“Syncretism is in the first place contested religious interpenetration”
(Droogers 1989: 20).
Though all definitions of syncretism
are thorny, Michael Pye recognizes the term’s dynamism when he describes it as
“the temporary ambiguous coexistence of elements from diverse religions and
other contexts within a coherent religious pattern” and considers that the
process should be understood as “a natural moving aspect of major religious
traditions . . . a part of the dynamics of a religion which works its way along
in the ongoing transplantation of these religious traditions from one cultural
context to another whether geographically or in time” (1971: 92).
However, despite the existence of
historical interactions, borrowings, and modifications based on contact and
context that have occurred among all the major religions, the rhetorical
division between so-called pure faiths and illicit or “contaminated” syncretic
belief systems persist, often mentioned with the related concepts of
“hybridization and creolization as a means of portraying the dynamics of global
social developments” (Stewart 2007: 40). Syncretism in the Creole context is
not the description of a static condition or result but of a dynamic process.
Roman Catholic missionaries adopted a
policy of “guided syncretism” during the conquest of the Americas and the
colonial period, tolerating the existence of polytheistic idolatry that could
be identified with Catholic saints and considering it a necessary evil— a
transitional state that would eventually lead the conquered peoples to the
“true” faith and the elimination of such beliefs. However, the policy never
fully realized its goals. The old gods refused to disappear (and still, do).
Whether to avoid further oppression in
a type of “defensive syncretism” or to gain legitimacy, the conquered peoples
embraced Christian forms but with new meanings, they themselves had
refashioned, at times appropriating them as tools of resistance. According to
Mosquera, syncretism should designate “something that corresponds more to the
concept of ‘appropriation,’ in the sense of taking over for one’s own use and
on one’s own initiative the diverse and even the hegemonic or imposed elements,
in contrast to assuming an attitude of passive eclecticism or synthesis,”
strategies that he claims are clearer now thanks to the evolution of a
“postmodern” contemporary consciousness (1996: 227).
The stress on syncretism and such terms
as “syncretic cults” emphasizes the “accessory syncretic elements to the
detriment of the essence: the truly effective evolutions of African religions
in America” (Mosquera 1992: 30).
In an interesting example of the
historical revision of the definition of cultural and religious “legitimacy,”
Stephen Palmié notes in “Against Syncretism: ‘Africanizing’ and ‘Cubanizing’
Discourses in North American òrìsà Worship,” that the American Yoruba movement
created in the United States in the 1960s, also known as Yoruba-Reversionism or
the Oyotunji Movement, has attempted to purge all European elements from Cuban
and Cuban-American Santería/Regla de Ocha in order to regain a more “pure” form
of worship and cultural “legitimacy.”
The re-Africanization of
“syncretistically adulterated” Cuban beliefs and practices “runs counter to an
understanding of ‘tradition’ still at the very heart of North American variants
of Afro-Cuban religious practices” (1995: 77). A movement to eliminate any
vestiges of European religions from Santería and other Creole religions, led by
so-called “African revisionists,” and return to a more “pure” and “authentic”
African-centered religion has led to African-centered movements in Cuba as well
where some advocate for a “religión Yoruba” to replace Regla de Ocha/Santería.
For Andrew Apter, religious syncretism
is yet another form of empowerment, another modality of revision and popular
resistance: The syncretic revision of dominant discourses sought to transform
the authority that these discourses upheld . . . the power and violence mobilized
by slave revolts and revolution were built into the logic of New World
syncretism itself.
The Catholicism of Vodou, Candomblé,
and Santería was not an ecumenical screen, hiding the worship of African
deities from official persecution. It was the religion of the masters, revised,
transformed, and appropriated by slaves to harness its power within their
universes of discourse. In this way, the slaves took possession of Catholicism
and thereby repossessed themselves as active spiritual subjects. (1991: 254)
And, according to Laura E. Pérez in “Hybrid Spiritualities and Chicana
Altar-Based Art,” U.S. Latina/o artists and intellectuals in the fields of
religion and visual arts are radically redefining the understanding of
religious and cultural syncretism beyond the Eurocentric notion “that vestiges
of the precolonial survive as largely incoherent fragments within the engulfing
colonial culture” and are replacing it with the realization that globalization
has restructured religious beliefs and practices and given birth to “altogether
new forms” (2008: 344–345).
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