Deprecated: Function get_magic_quotes_gpc() is deprecated in /home1/sourceme/public_html/veleda/wp-includes/load.php on line 651

Notice: Trying to access array offset on value of type bool in /home1/sourceme/public_html/veleda/wp-includes/theme.php on line 2241

Deprecated: Function get_magic_quotes_gpc() is deprecated in /home1/sourceme/public_html/veleda/wp-includes/formatting.php on line 4387

Warning: Cannot modify header information - headers already sent by (output started at /home1/sourceme/public_html/veleda/wp-includes/load.php:651) in /home1/sourceme/public_html/veleda/wp-includes/feed-rss2.php on line 8
Veleda https://www.sourcememory.net/veleda Blog by Max Dashu Wed, 05 Jun 2019 18:36:37 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=4.9.25 The keebèt and women’s ceremony in the Chaco https://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=978 Tue, 04 Jun 2019 08:34:25 +0000 http://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=978 Continue reading ]]> One of the earliest descriptions of South American holy women was written by Martin Dobrizhoffer, a Jesuit missionary in Paraguay in the mid-1700s. He lived first among the Guaraní and then the “Abipones.” This was a Spanish name, not their own, for a people who no longer exist, also called the Callaga or Kalyaga). They lived in what is now called the lower Bermejo river in Paraguay, in the southern part of the Chaco region (now transected by the borders of Brazil and Argentina). They spoke a Guaicurú language related to those of the neighboringToba and Mocoví peoples.

Abipon woman, with tattoos, common in the Chaco into the 20th century

The Abipones originally lived mainly by hunting and gathering, with some farming. By 1641 they had the horse, and took to raiding cattle and horses from European settlers, including in the nascent cities of Asunción. They were driven south by the Spanish and Toba, into what is now northern Argentina, and European settlers took their lands. From 1710 the Spanish sent military forces against the Abipones, forcing them to settle in colonias, and by 1750 the Jesuits had set up missions. Dobrizhoffer was among these missionaries. During the time he was there, more than half of the Abipones had died of diseases from Europe, as well as from wars with the colonials and also with their linguistic relatives, the Toba and Mocobí.

Martin Dobrizhoffer, An Account of the Abipones, an equestrian people of Paraguay. Vol II. London: John Murray, 1822 (The book was written before 1784, and translated and published by Sara Coleridge, to pay for her brother’s college expenses.)

Martin Dobrizhoffer, An Account of the Abipones, an equestrian people of Paraguay. Written around 1780.

The Jesuit missionary’s account is deeply stained—as they all are—with a belief in European and Christian supremacy. He insults the Abipones as “fools, idiots, and madmen” and disparages their religion as devilish. [64] So why read the book at all? It is the primary historical source on this society, and it does contain valuable information in spite of the author’s manifest bias, especially about the female keebèt who were important ceremonial leaders and healers. But it is necessary to read through and under Dobrizhoffer’s beliefs in order to glimpse how the women’s chant, dances, and healings might have looked, and to visual their sacrality, the thing that he is most eager to deny.

Dobrizhoffer occasionally admits that the Abipones had many good qualities. He praises their “modest cheerfulness… gentleness and kindness.” He relates that they are humorous and good-natured: “they never break out into clamours, threats, and reproaches…” We learn further that they are unfailingly polite in their assemblies, never interrupting. [136]

Abipones

The author provides valuable descriptions of the leading role of female shamans, amidst his constant denunciations of them, often in bitterly contemptuous tones that are both misogynist and racist. He is puzzled that so much authority was vested in women, and repeatedly compares them, especially the female elders, to the Delphic oracle, the only women he had ever heard of who exercised spiritual power. His very skewed lens reports that the old women “are obstinate adherers to their ancient superstitions, and priestesses of the savage rites, strongly oppose the Christian religion…” [153]

As is common in colonial accounts of this period, shamans are described as “jugglers,” a word that originates from the French jongleurs, literally “jesters,” who were wandering minstrels, acrobats, and jugglers. This word choice implies deception and trickery, a claim that was often made by colonial observers of medicine ceremonies. Once again, there is much to criticize in this book, but the many instances of its bias are historical evidence of the colossal prejudice against indigenous spiritual philosophies as well as the spiritual leadership of women.

The Abipones called their spiritual leaders keebèt. “These rogues, who are of both sexes, profess to know and have the ability to do all things.” All the Abipones believed that they had the power “to cure all disorders, to make known distant and future events; to cause rain, hail, and tempests; to call up the shades of the dead, and consult them concerning hidden matters; to put on the form of a tiger [puma]; to handle every kind of serpent without danger…” [67]

Elsewhere the missionary refers to the high repute and broad authority of the keebèt among their people: “the jugglers perform the offices not only of soothsayers and physicians, but also of priests of the ceremonies of superstition.” [82] People also rely on the keebèt in their journeys and hunts. [76] Dobrizhoffer writes that women shamans were numerous and may even be implying that they outnumbered the men: “Female jugglers abound to such a degree, that they almost outnumber the gnats of Egypt.” [87] The pejorative tone is pervasive throughout the text, which illustrates European attitudes.

For their vision quest, prospective keebèt “are said to sit upon an aged willow, overhanging some lake, and to abstain from food for several days, till they begin to see into futurity.” Dobrizhoffer then proceeds to denounce the keebèt as deceitful people who cheat “ignorant and credulous savages” [67-68] It doesn’t occur to him that people may have seen him and other priests in that light, then and now.

The Jesuit says that all over Paraguay and Brazil, shamans “cure every kind of disease” by extracting pernicious energies from the sick person’s body and blowing in vitality: “They apply their lips to the part affected, and suck it, spitting after every suction. At intervals they draw up their breath from the very bottom of their breast, and blow upon that part of the body which is in pain. That blowing and sucking are alternately repeated.” If the person has a high fever, “four or five of these harpies fly to suck and blow it, one fastening his lips on the arm, another on the side, a third and fourth on the feet.” [249]

“The Guarycurùs call their physicians Nigienigis. A gourd filled with hard seeds, and a fan of dusky emu fathers are their chief insignia, and medical instruments, which they always carry in their hands that they may be known.” [262] These answer to the feather prayer fans that are used to sweep away ailment and infuse vital power in some other cultures of the Americas.

However, there is ambiguity in the shamans’ status. Some societies are known to have suspected medicine people of sorcery, or to blame them if cures do not work: “If any one dies of a disease, the relations persecute the physicians most terribly, as the author of his death. If a Cacique [chief] dies, they put all the physicians to death, that they might not fly elsewhere.” [262] This must be an exaggeration, or they’d have no more healers.

Whatever ambivalence they may have had, the Abipones had great reverence for their dead keebèt, like the San, Mongols, and so many other peoples on other continents. “In their migrations, they reverently carry with them their bones and other relics as sacred pledges. Whenever the Abipones see a fiery meteor, or hear it thunder three or four times, these simpletons believe that one of their jugglers [sic] is dead, and that this thunder and lightning are his funeral obsequies.” [75-76]

“Abipon Faces,” possibly taken from Dobrizhoffer’s book. Women on the left. Both sexes shaved their hair in the middle of the head.

 

Women as Ceremonial Leaders

Celebrations were held to honor “our grandfather Pleiades” with mead and an all night festival, with torches blazing, women singing loudly, people laughing and applauding. “Some female juggler, who conducts the festive ceremonies, dances at intervals, rattling a gourd full of hardish fruitseeds to musical time, and, whirling round to the right with one foot, and to the left with another, without every removing from one spot, or in the least varying her motions.” Trumpets sounded and the assembled people made a loud noise by striking their lips with their hands.

Strict decorum was observed, with women and men sitting separately. “The female dancer, the priestess of these ridiculous [sic] ceremonies… rubs the thighs of some of the men with her gourds, and in the name of their grandfather, promises them swiftness in pursuing enemies and wild beasts. At the same time the new male and female jugglers… are initiated with many ceremonies.” [65-66]

[[[ The Pleiades constellation was revered across the world. Its appearance above the horizon after a season out of human view often signaled the beginning of agricultural or other seasonal cycles. The ceremony Dobrizhoffer describes here may well have been New Year for the Abipones, a time when future undertakings were blessed. They called the constellation “grandfather,” but a great many cultures from North Dakota to Australia connected its stars with a group of sisters. They figured in traditions of the Lakota about the geologic formation known to the Lakota as Mato Tipila, Bear Lodge, and the Cheyenne, and Arapaho have similar names for it. The sisters were chased by a bear, and took refuge on a great rock. Great Spirit raised the stone to save them from the bear; the long slits in the rock were made by the bear’s claws as it tried to climb and reach the women, who became the Pleiades. Settlers call the rock in northeastern Wyoming  “Devil’s Tower,” which you may remember from the film E.T.) ]]]

The Abipones were probably patrilineal, though matrilineal societies still exist in the Chaco region. They became a warrior society who displaced other groups after being driven themselves from their original lands. The children of chiefs were seen as noble, but this ranking was not necessarily passed on to the unworthy. If the children were considered stupid, cowardly or foolish, “they make them of no account” and “choose for rulers and leaders others of the common people, whom they know to be active, sagacious, brave, and modest.” [440]

Still, they celebrated and rejoiced when a cacique’s son was born: “the whole crowd of girls, bearing palm boughs in their hands” would go to the baby’s house “amid festive acclamations; they run round the roof and side of it, shaking the palm boughs” to ensure he will be a great warrior. You may think chief, son, warrior: old story, patriarchal system; but the interesting thing to me is the female leadership (and athleticism) in these celebrations:

The strongest of the women is covered from the loins to the legs, with a sort of apron made of the longer ostrich feathers.” This woman goes around to all the houses in the midst of a female band, carrying a twisted hide club with which she “whips, puts to flight, and pursues all the men that she finds in every house, and those that are met by the way are soundly beaten by the girls, with the palm boughs. The first day is passed in this running up and down, amidst the laughter of the flagellated men.

The second day, bands of girls wrestle with each other, and the boys do the same separately in another place. On the third day, the people dance, males on one side, females on the other. “They all join hands til a circle is formed, an old woman, the directress of the dance going round striking a gourd: and when after a whirling for some time, they grow giddy, they rest at intervals, and then renew their dancing… [216-17]

On the fourth day, the woman with the apron of ostrich feathers traverses the town, surrounded by girls, challenging the stoutest and strongest woman she finds in every house, to contend with her in the street; and now throwing her adversary, now being herself thrown, affords an amusing spectacle to the assembled people. [217-18]

The rest of the eight-day festival continued with sports, men’s drinking parties, songs and drumming. [217-18] This account compares to women’s wrestling events in Brazil where, among the Xinguano, the Hukahuka wrestlers are accompanied by ceremonies, dance and singing. In the mid-20th century, Nuba women wrestled in Sudan, and  in Mongolia, Marco Polo’s recounted stories about the female wrestler Khutulun.

Dobrizhoffer relates that the Abipones were in constant fear of attack by enemies, and always on the watch. They would consult spirits to get protection and warning of possible raids, and here again old female shamans presided:

About the beginning of the night a company of old women assemble in a huge tent. The mistress of the band, an old woman remarkable for wrinkles and grey hairs, strikes every now and then two large discordant drums, at intervals of four sounds… she with a harsh voice, mutters kinds of songs, like a person mourning. The surrounding women, with their hair dishevelled and their breasts bare, rattle gourds, and loudly chant funeral verses, which are accompanied by a continual motion of the feet, and tossing about of the arms. [72]

Others beat hand drums with sticks, and the ceremony continued all night long:

At day-break all flock to the old woman’s tent, as to a Delphic oracle. The singers receive little presents, and are anxiously asked what their grandfather has said. … Sometimes the devil is consulted by different women, in different tents, the same night. He describes differing opinions and disputes over what is true. Sometimes shamans are hidden under a bull-hide, chanting verses; at some point they declare that a shade has come, and inquire about future events. [72-74]

Dobrizhoffer was struck by the fact that even Spanish captives believed in these ceremonies. They had been around long enough to see the prophecies come true, it appears.

Another ceremony was held when a worthy man (but see below) was promoted to noble rank. He underwent a process of initiation, sitting for three days with a black bead placed on his tongue, without speaking, eating or drinking. [441] After this, “all the women flock to the threshold of his tent.” Pulling the clothes off their upper bodies and loosing their hair, they stand in a line and chant, dance, and shake gourds, lamenting for the man’s ancestors. The candidate dresses in his best, carries a spear while riding a caparisoned horse. He gallops north, then returns and goes to a tent “where sits an old female juggler, the priestess of the ceremonies, who is afterwards to inaugurate the candidate with solemn rites. [441-42]

The matrons strike their lips and applaud. The old woman seated on a hide gives a short speech, which the people receive with great reverence. Then the candidate rides out to each of the other directions in turn, every time returning to the old woman who “pours forth her eloquence.” After that, everyone goes to the sacred tent, where an old woman shaves the man’s head. Then she “pronounces a panegyric” on his noble qualities and exploits. They spread his new names and the women pronounce it while striking their lips with their hands. [443-44]

All this places great emphasis on the male, but Dobrizhoffer lets slip a mention that women also were honored in this same way: “It is remarkable that many of the women arrive at this degree of honour, and nobility, enjoy the privileges of the Höcheri [“high ones”? seems to be German], and use their dialect. The names of these females end in En, as those of the men in In.” This seems to imply that the Abipon language had gender-specific dialects, as various American and North Asian cultures do.

Women also led the funerary rites. When someone was dying, “the old women, who are either related to the person, or famed for medical skill, flock to his house. They stand in a row round the sick man’s bed, with disheveled hair and bare shoulders, striking a gourd, the mournful sound of which they accompany with violent motion of the feet and arms, and loud vociferations.” The most senior or greatest healer stands close to the man’s head “and strikes an immense military drum.” Another occasionally moves the bullhide that covers him and sprinkles him with cold water. [265-66]

“All the married women and widows of the town crowd to the mourning,” wailing, rattling gourds, and beating hand drums. As soon as someone dies, they immediately take the body for burial. “Women are appointed to go forward on stiff steeds, to dig the grave, and honour the funeral with lamentations.” [267] The men go off for honey for their big drinking party: “we always pitied the women, upon whom devolved all the trouble of the exequies, the care of the funeral, and the labor of making the grave and of mourning.” [275] However, this seems to be more a function of their authority than the usual European stereotype of female drudges.

The name of the dead person cannot be said again, and substitutes were created: “It is the prerogative of the old women to invent these new names,” which spread rapidly. “All the friends and relations of the deceased change the names they formerly bore.” Houses were demolished, followed by nine days of mourning. There were two kinds of mourning: a public one that unmarried women perform in the streets, and another in people’s homes, by invitation only.

At set times in morning and afternoon, “all the women in the town assemble in the market-place, with their hair scattered about their shoulders, their breast and back naked, and a skin hanging from their loins.” Dobrizhoffer compares them to “Bacchanals or infernal furies” who leap and move their arms, striking gourd rattles or beating deerskin drums: “They go up and down the whole marketplace, like supplicants, walking separately but all in one very long row.” [276] The mourners shout, trill, quiver, groan, and chant mournfully. Occasionally they stop and drop their voices from high to low, and “suddenly utter a very shrill hissing.” They extol the dead person’s good qualities, and imprecate the person blamed of the death.

Women mourners also lamented by night, starting at sundown and halting at sunrise. They assembled in a house, “one of the female jugglers presiding over the party, and regulating the chaunting and other rites.” She beat on two large drums and sang the funeral lament, joined by the others with gourd rattles. This went on all night, and for eight more nights. If a woman was being mourned, there was a ceremony of breaking her pots on the ninth night. Then their chanting became more festive, still led by the old woman drummer singing in a deep voice. [277-78]

Women carried out these same ceremonies to honor the ancestors. “Few nights pass that you do not hear women mourning. This they do upon their feet,” facing the grave, always rattling their gourds. They grew louder as day approaches, shrieking and lamenting. [279] We need to remember several things here: the context of conquest and colonization, with a very high mortality rate due to epidemics from European diseases as well as the disruption of traditional economies. All this was going on in the historical moment in which Dobrizhoffer was writing his trilogy. The other thing to keep in mind is that the ancestor reverence was part of the Abipon tradition, as he himself remarks. The ceremonies were not for mourning only, but had other spiritual significance, including that of assistance in very hard times. They are likely to have been imbued with the state of emergency in which the people found themselves, in those years before they were wiped off the face of the earth.

Spanish conversion attempts and Native resistance

Among the convert towns, the keebèt practiced in secret and still exerted considerable influence. The Jesuit complains that “the American jugglers… these wickedest of mortals” kept people from going to church or heeding the admonitions of priests. He writes of how Guaraní shamans sharpened the Indigenous resistance to Antonio Ruiz de Montoya: “It was not till he had repressed the authority of the remaining jugglers, and commanded the bones of eighty of the dead ones, which were universally worshipped with great honors, to be burnt in the presence of the people…” that the Spanish succeeded in overcoming them. Until the keebèt are abolished, Dobrizhoffer counsels, “nothing can be done with the savages; this I affirm on experience.” [81] This was the policy everywhere, not only in the Spanish colonies, but the English, French and Dutch ones.

One notable convert outdid himself by adopting Catholic practices like self-flagellation. He had originally acted as a scout for Spanish, but became thoroughly disilllusioned with them due to their treatment of him and other people. After the Spanish prevailed by force of arms, he did everything he could to turn people against the clergy in his role as interpreter. As much as Dobrizhoffer hated this man, he felt even more threatened by his “still more pestilent mother”:

“This woman, the chief of all the female jugglers, a hundred years old, venerable to the people on account of her wrinkles, and formidable by reason of the magic arts she was thought to be acquainted with, never ceased exhorting her countrymen to shun and detest the church…” This important female shaman was later killed by the Mocobí, “along with many others,” while fleeing the town. [145]

Women’s Status

Female chieftains are recorded for this people: “…the Abipones do not scorn to be governed by women of noble birth; for at the time that I resided in Paraguay, there was a high-born matron, to whom the Abipones gave the title of Nelareycaté, and who numbered some families in her horde.” [108] Although the Abipones were a warrior people, the missionary recounts how well they treated captives, including escaped slaves. With amazement, he reports that female captives were never raped. [147] The same reports of non-rape culture can be found in accounts from in North America, including some written by white women who had been taken captive by the Iroquois and other nations.

Things were less groovy among the Chiquitos, as we learn from the missionary’s description of their medicine people. First, let’s look at what he says about their healings. He says that the “juggler” physicians of the Chiquitos feast before doing treatments.  They question patients closely about where they were, what they ate, in order to discover the cause of illness. “The juggler sucks the afflicted part once, twice, and three times. Then muttering a doleful charm, he knocks the floor on which the sick man is lying, with a club, to frighten away the soul of that animal [that has entered his body] from his patient’s body.” [262-63]

But—and here comes the sexual politics—Dobrizhoffer wrote that the male shamans blamed wives, and sometimes female shamans too, for a man’s illness. “When a husband fell ill, they used to kill the wife, thinking her the cause of his sickness…. At other times they consulted their physicians, which of the female jugglers occasioned the disease. These men, actuated either by desire of vengeance or interested motives, named whomsoever they chose, and were not required to bring any proofs of the guilt of the accused.” People came from all parts to carry out their sentence. [264]

I have to caution that the missionaries sought to cast Indian society in the worst possible light, but still it appears that inequality and scapegoating were present in whatever society this was, that the Spanish had dubbed “Chiquitos” (little ones). Dobrizhoffer does not claim that the Abipones did this. There are parallels in other parts of the world of wives being blamed and killed for causing their husbands’ deaths. But that’s another discussion. So is the expulsion of the Jesuits from Paraguay. For all their faults, including their attempt to impose their culture on the Native peoples, they did protect the Guaraní, at least, from the worst settler depredations, which included enslavement. And for that, after 150 years, the Spanish crown expelled them from the country.

What I find striking in Dobrizhoffer’s account is the importance of women as ceremonial leaders and healers. That lineage continues  in the Chaco region today. There are no more Abipones, though their blood may run in the veins of other peoples. But women of other peoples, such as the Maka and Nivaclé, carry on with the circle dances, chants, and processions with ceremonial staffs topped by guanaco hoof rattles.

Maka women’s ceremony

Nivaklé women elders procession with staffs; the caption says: “The Nivaclé people in Formosa province EXIST!”

https://incupo.org.ar/el-pueblo-nivacle-en-la-provincia-de-formosa-estan/

]]>
Pattern Recognition: Across Space and Time https://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=932 Sun, 31 Mar 2019 08:34:14 +0000 http://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=932 Continue reading ]]> [et_pb_section][et_pb_row][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_text]

When we look deep into the cultural record, it reveals recurring patterns and continuities over long stretches of time. Synchronicity recently brought one of these into focus for me. I found pictures of clay house shrines with horned crests, in a book on the Cucuteni-Trypillia culture.

Terracotta house shrine, Cucuteni-Trypillia culture, ca 5000 bce

The same week, I found this motif repeated in the Villanovan culture (pre-Etruscan Italy) thousands of years later: horns at either end of the house, or all along the central roof beam.

Terracotta house with horns, Cerveteri, Tuscany, ca 630 bce

This in turn reminded me of the water buffalo horned houses at the far ends of Indonesia. In the east, Toradja people still hang real horns at the ends of their longhouses; sometimes carved ones too. In western Sumatra, the Minangkabau build their longhouses in the shape of water buffalo horns.

Or, back to the clay shrines, others in Macedonia and Bulgaria take the form of women.

Terracotta shrine, Porodin, Macedonia, 5500 bce

There are the pillared or spiral-capped terracotta shrines of ancient Jordan, notably at Mt. Nebo, the legendary threshold never crossed by Moses. (This itself is a lesson in what counts as “history.”)

Terracotta shrine with dove, spiral pillars, and female icons, from Jordan, 900-700 bce

Or look to the terracotta shrines of the Corn Mother in the Jamacoaque culture in Ecuador.

Terracotta shrine, Jama Coaque culture, Ecuador, 200-400 ce

This vessel from coastal Ecuador shows a goddess or ancestor seated within a stepped shrine:

Jama Coaque Vessel, coastal Ecuador, 19cm

Or we can look to the array of ceremonial stands made of fired clay, from the “A-Group” of neolithic Sudan

A-group, neolithic Sudan

to those of the neolithic Balkans, to the Canaanite shrines of Beth She’an, with their goddesses and serpents, and other, circular stands with coiling serpents

Beth She’an, Canaan, ca 1500 bce

which are repeated in  the “snake tubes” of Crete, after the Helladic conquests, and on to the ritual stands of the Etruscans.

“Snake tube,” Crete, ca 1200 bce

And let’s not forget the three-feet-tall terracotta stand at Ta’anach, proving Goddess reverence among the Hebrews in the time of Solomon, in the 10th century bce. (Objects like this are typically referred to as “cult stands,” a problematic label applied to historically-targeted religions).

Ritual stand, Ta’anach, 10th century

The historical likelihood is that these ceremonial pots, and ritual stands, and clay shrines, were made by women. They represent women’s culture, and women’s history, the world interpreted through women’s eyes, then and again, now. They are windows into the ceremonies that women enacted in very ancient times for which no written record exists. They are the cultural record for their time.

We can track these ceramic arts, through layers of history and cultural styles, from Colombia and Venezuela,

Aragua, lake Valencia, Venezuela

through the Caribbean, where they manifest through the Taino worlds of the islands. The pottery styles of Boriken and Ayiti and Dominica

Itiba Cahubaba, Dominican Republic, 1200-1500 ce

have historical linkages reaching even to the Amazon and the Tapajós, the triangular shaped seated women with outstretched legs, a deep pattern shared across vast distances.

Santarem. Tapajós culture, Brazil

Bring Abya Yala into view: put those cultural matrices on your mental map, and on the radar, finally, of comparative religion.

Other deep histories surface in the rock murals of Zimbabwe. Paintings of maternal ancestors dance with ritual ties on their arms and torsos, holding plumes or knives or crescents or leaves.

Rock painting at Mutoko, Zimbabwe

They are often shown with life essence streaming from their wombs, and sometimes these streams become ladders or pathways along which generations of descendants travel.

Antelope-headed ancestor, Manazwa Wedza, Zimbabwe

What appear to be generational ladders also appear in the rock art of Murujuga (the Pilbara sites on the Burrup Peninsula, Western Australia).

Lines of climbing people, Burrup Peninsula, Western Australia

Those petroglyphs also include images of women with life essence streaming from their vulvas, the same theme as Zimbabwe.

Petroglyphs from Pilbara, Burrup, Western Australia

The generations theme may also apply to modern woodcarvings of the Maluku Islands, the luli icons, on tree-of-life pillar headdresses worn by female ancestors.

Luli (sacred image) Lakor Island, Maluku, eastern Indonesia

The Murujuga petroglyphs are said to be the oldest rock art on the planet, but are off the radar of most paleolithic surveys you’re likely to lay eyes on. There’s a racialized aspect to these suppressions and marginalizations, which place Aboriginal histories outside the dominant narrative. The focus is consistenly shifted away from most of the planet, to concentrate again and again on the same usual suspects — which also happen to be the most patriarchal civilizations, the hierarchical and colonizing societies. That focus is un-self-conscious, but compulsive and authoritarian.

So the vast cultural record of the Australian and Saharan rock art galleries still remains to be integrated into popular understanding of what constitutes history.

Menal, Ennedi region, NE Chad

We have barely begun to glimpse the women’s history embedded in the rock paintings of southern Africa or Spain, Baja California or the Australian Kimberley, or in the petroglyphs of Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah, or in the expanses of Canada, Central Asia, and Siberia.

Petroglyphs on a rock wall in Utah

In the Arabian desert, from the Hijaz to Jordan, powerful images of invoking women have not yet been discussed by Gender Studies or in the field of comparative religion. This is a literate bias, of course, and obviously a male bias, but it is also a racialized bias, that nullifies the historical record of most of the world.

Invoking women, western Arabia

Pattern recognition, and interdisciplinary comparative studies, are important ways of writing women back into history. Not focusing on famous individual achievers, though that has its place too, but instead exploring the cultural worlds that have existed across countless generations, across continents and historical periods. They are the common ground of humanity, but here we are zooming in on the mark left by womanity, the ancient cultural record that has not been allowed to count in the white male his-tories. It exists  nevertheless, and remains to be recognized and re-membered. It immeasurably expands  our vision of  who and how and what women have been, and done. There are countless possibilities, once our eyes are opened to how patriarchal culture has labored to foreclose them, to obscure, bury, and over-write them.

A sampling of patterns I have been investigating for nearly 50 years now:

Female Icons   Ancient female figurines in stone, bone, ivory, terracotta, wood, or metal  (often labeled as “fertility idols,” or worse). They cover a vast historical terrain, from the paleolithic to neolithic, bronze, age, iron age, to living Indigenous cultures in Brazil or Cameroon. Some reflect ceremonial practices such as paint-up of bodies and faces, tattooing or scarification, ritual dress or headdress.

Clay figurine with paint-up, Costa Rica

Some figurines are inscribed with sacred signs, such as spirals or other patterns, or are modeled with serpents. Others make ritual gestures, like cupping the breasts, or hands on belly, or arms raised in invocation or benediction.

Life-giver gesture, Sesklo culture, neolithic Serbia

The ivories belong to a very old layer, and a long-lasting one, that is seen in the Old Bering Sea Culture, paleolithic Siberia and Europe, Egyptians and Canaanites, and many peoples in the Congo.

Okvik culture, Bering Sea, Alaska

Vulva Stones   Petroglyphs engraved into the walls of caves or rock shelters or earthbound stones. (Shown, vulvas deeply grooved into the walls of a megalithic chamber at Loughcrew, Ireland.) The Freudian obsession with “phallic symbols” militated against recognition of the universality of these female signs, which were carved in every continent inhabited by humans. This symbol was further elaborated in sculptures, in stone or wood or metal, of female ancestors, sheela-na-gigs, Tantrik icons.

Vulvas in the passageway stones of Cairn T: two details

Female statue menhirs   Megalithic statues, usually carved in relief on undressed or lightly shaped stone blocks. I’ve documented examples from Ethiopia, France, Italy, Sardinia, Morocco, Nicaragua, Colombia, Ecuador, Sumatra and Sulawesi in Indonesia. This presentation shows examples from Europe.

Southern Ethiopia

The colossal Water Goddess who topped the Pyramid of the Moon at Teotihuacan was followed by smaller statues of Coatlicue in Aztec times, one of which was still much larger than life. In the Ukraine, the Kipchak Tatars created multitudes of kammeniye baby (“stone old women”) which belong to a larger steppe tradition that extends through Mongolia (where male sculptures also occur).

Stone baba, Krasnodar (eastern Black Sea) 1100 ce

Statues   This is a large category, in stone and wood and other media. It includes the Egyptian goddesses (especially Sekhmet, of whom many hundreds of statues exist) and those of the Sumerians and Babylonians; and the goddesses in Indian temples, including the rock-cut Saptamatrika (“seven mothers”) and the circular temples of the 64 Yoginis.

Sapta Matrika, Aihole, Karnataka, SW India

Kybele and other goddesses were also cut out of the living rock in Asia Minor. In Lydia, the colossal statue of Artemis Ephesia was destroyed, but is attested by many historical sources.

Matar Kubileya in her rock-cut sanctuary at Arslankaya, Asia Minor, 600-570 bce

Smaller stone statues exist in many places, including Yemen; the Cycladic marbles in the Aegean; the ancestor icons in southern Appalachia; and the Marquesas Islands in the Pacific, to give a few examples. The Huastecs sculptured a large number of stone statues of women in Veracruz, eastern Mexico.

Huastec statue, eastern Mexico

The wooden ancestral mothers of Africa stretch from Senegal to Congo to Malawi and Mozambique.  Carved masks belong to this large group of ancestral women as well, as do the mother-drums in Ghana and Nigeria.  Wooden sculptures are also important in Southeast Asia, aboriginal India, Melasia and the Pacific Islands. They were carved by the Kalasha people in the Hindu Kush.

Kalasha goddess or ancestor, Pakistan-Afghan borderland

Maternal ancestors (like the Frog Mother shown below) figure in the clan crests better known as “totem poles” along the western coast of Alaska and Canada.

Thunder House at Qang, Haida Gwai (western Canada), 1914

Ceremonial pots   Vessels in the form of breasts are very widespread. So are motherpots in the shape of women, alias “female effigy vessels” in the dry parlance of archaeology.

Ancestral vessel, Nodena, Arkansas

Also in this category are ceramics painted with processions of dancing women, which are found in ancient Iraq, Iran, Pakistan, China, Romania, Ukraine, and Greece.

From Ray (Rhages) Iran, 4000s

In Egypt, this theme is expressed as women or goddesses standing in boats with arms upraised, amidst birds and animals and water patterns.  In more recent times, similar scenes of dancing women were woven into baskets in western North America.

Invoking women   Some of the Arabian petroglyphs of the first millennium bce are shown here.  For a worldwide look at this theme, see chapter one of my dvd Woman Shaman: the Ancients.  

Front cover of the double disc set Woman Shaman

Many other patterns remain to be discussed; these are just a few. For an earlier exploration of these themes, see my article “Icons of the Matrix: female symbolism in ancient culture” (2005).

We look at these subjects in more depth in the Suppressed Histories online course, which is open to subscribers at any time. Thousands of photo essays can also be found open source at the Suppressed Histories website and in the photos section of the SHA Facebook page.

If you would like to support this research into global women’s history,  you can contribute via my Matreon.

Max Dashu, Suppressed Histories Archives

[/et_pb_text][/et_pb_column][/et_pb_row][/et_pb_section]

]]>
Serpent Goddess in the Tree https://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=906 Sun, 05 Aug 2018 07:48:24 +0000 http://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=906 Continue reading ]]> The story of Eve receiving the fruit of knowledge from the Serpent in Genesis is familiar, but most people don’t know that Western European artists depicted the Serpent as a Goddess from about 1200 to the 1600s. The earliest example I’ve found is a sculpture from Notre Dame de Paris during the 1200s. The Snake Goddess is coiled around the Tree of Wisdom:

Pedestal of Madonna statue, Notre Dame de Paris

Many illuminated manuscripts show the Snake Goddess coiled around the tree in the same way, like the kundalini serpent winding around the human spine, but wearing a ladies coif:

Ms. Royal 15 D II f.2, British Library

Another coiffed serpent, with dragon legs, from the Maastricht Book of Hours:

British Library Stowe MS 17 ‘The Maastricht Hours’ f26v

A lot of these illustrations are from Books of Hours, devotional books made for the upper classes. This French example shows the Serpent Goddess as inseparable from the Tree:

A Dutch or Flemish artist shows the Snake Goddess passing the apple to Eve, as in an initiatory transmission. The Tree of of Knowledge has been transformed into a crucifixion,  a common conflation as pagan themes were being christianized.

Willem Vrelant, early 1460s

The same theme comes through in stained glass art, from Germany:

Besserer Chapel, Ulm, Munster, 1400s

Another coiling Serpent Woman, but with Death at the root of the once-Tree-of-Life (in European art if not in the original Hebrew). French translation of Augustine’s City of God, Virgil Master, Paris 1410-1412:

This one is my favorite, with its soulful Dragon Goddess and her chubby paws, in a Belgian Book of Hours from Bruges or Ghent, 1400s.

Beinecke Rare Bookd Library, MS 287fol. 46r

Next is a detail from Hieronymus Bosch, the Hay Wain, along the same lines. The Low Countries, France and Germany are the center of gravity for these Snake Goddesses.

But here’s an English version, showing the serpent woman as winged, and then the Expulsion of Paradise, here imagined as a fortress.

Holkham Bible Picture Book 1327-1335

Michelangelo was still painting the Snake Woman coiled around the Tree in the 1500s.
The intent transmission from Goddess to Woman is not interrupted by his intrusive Adam.

Michelangelo, Sistine Chapel

This German illumination shows a mystic encounter between the Snake Goddess and Eve, standing at the confluence of rivers described in Genesis.

Furtmeyr Bible, Regensburg, after 1465, München BSB Cgm 8010a fol. 10r

A number of manuscripts show the Serpent as a Dragon Lady, winged and with paws:

Speculum humanae salvationis, MS M.140 fol. 4r

Another, even more chimeric Dragon Woman, a sort of cockatrice,
from a Dutch woodcut of the late 1400s:

1483 Johann Veldener Culemborg

And more phoenix wings on the Snake, from an unidentified manuscript:

The theme continues into the full 1600s:

The Farnese Hours, 1600s

And the last example that I’ve found (so far), for a span of over 400 years.
She has the dragon wings again:

Theodore de Bry, 1634

The theme of the Serpent Goddess definitely resonated with Western European artists, though the Bible does not present the Snake as a female, much less a goddess. This same area of Europe has a deeper substrate, in which Mother Earth sits under a Tree giving suckle to a Serpent. I’ve found six or seven examples in the margins of manuscripts and in ivory diptychs carved as gospel covers for Frankish and German aristocrats. Some are  featured in my book Witches and Pagans: Women in European Folk Religion, 700-1100.

Later, theologians transformed these remnants of Germanic heathenry into the figure of Luxuria (Sensuality) — one of the Seven Deadly Sins. The earliest versions, circa 1000, are quite pagan and brimming with vitality. But this figure gets increasingly demonized, and instead of the snakes nursing at her breast, they are shown as gnawing on her. She herself becomes skeletal, withered, and anguished in church sculptures of the 1300s, which often show her in the company of demons.

But appeal of the Snake Goddess persisted, in forms unwarranted by the Biblical narrative. They arose out of popular culture around a Tree of Life and submerged goddess traditions, even as those faded before the cult of the saints.

©2018 Max Dashu

]]>
Furies and Witches https://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=892 Thu, 02 Aug 2018 07:08:38 +0000 http://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=892 Continue reading ]]> Tisiphone is one of the Erinnyes (Furies) in ancient Greece, sister of Alecto and Megaera. Her purview was to punish murderers, including those who killed parents or siblings. But as Ovid tells the story (Metamorphosis 4), Tisiphone brings about murder at the behest of Juno/Hera. She drives king Athamas mad and causes him to kill his children. He sees his  wife Ino and their children as a lioness and her cubs, and smashes his son’s head on a rock. Ino grabs her daughter, runs away to the top of a cliff, and jumps into the sea.

This is the base story, which was resurrected in medieval Europe during the revival of Greek and Roman literature, and remythologized according to western European witch archetypes. Here is the first image that I came across, which had no visible connection to Greco-Roman mythology, since everyone is dressed in 15th century French garb. Tisiphone is no longer a goddess, but a witch holding two winged dragons (mischievous and adorable). She is shown causing Athamas to slay his family (wife as well as both children, thus diverging from the ancient story).

Athamas kills his family, 15th century

So I find out that are quite a few paintings of this scene, the attraction apparently being the idea that Athamas wasn’t really at fault. It was that serpentine woman who was to blame. The painting below tracks quite closely with Tisiphone holding up twin dragonlets, but this time the children are newborns.

King Athamas strangles his newborn children, as Yno lies dead

Another painting of the 1400s shows much the same thing, except that Ino may be asleep, and Tisiphone has released the serpents which are moving toward the murder scene. She is making sweeping gestures to show the magic she is using.

Otheas Epistle Queens manuscript-17 MYN5F1

The next painting is also from the 1400s (Christine de Pizan’s lament about the misogyny that pervaded the literature of her times comes to mind). This time there is only one serpent, and it is coiled around the arm of Tisiphone, as in the ancient Cretan goddesses  from Knossos.

Tisiphone causes Athama to kill his children

The next image sticks closer to Ovid’s version, with Ino jumping into the sea with her daughter. Nevertheless, the imagery tracks closely with medieval themes, adding hovering animalistic devils overhead. In this woodcut Tisiphone is shown naked. Not only does she hold snakes in each hand, but she has snake hair like Medusa. At center, she is also shown with a snake wrapped around her waist. Here she resembles medieval Huastec goddesses in eastern Mexico (look up Jalapa Museum)

Athamas murdering, Venice, 1497

A baroque etching from the 1600s again shows Tisiphone half naked and wielding serpents, but from a cloud in the heavens.

Athamas and Ino etching, 1600s

In Greco-Roman culture, the Furies also appear in scenes of male violence, but in opposition to it. The most famous case is their harrying of Orestes for murdering his mother, Clytemnestra. In the Greco-Italian vase painting below, the Erinys holds out her serpents (as in the medieval paintings), while Orestes prepares to kill his mother with a dagger. The gesture of grabbing her by the hair is already old by the time of this painting; countless bronze age murals and reliefs show kings slaughtering captives in this way.

Orestes murders Clytemnestra, Campania, circa 340 bce

A classic painted vase now in the British Museum shows an Erinys with snakes in her hair and in her hands, hovering over the sacred tripod of the Pythias at Delphi. Behind her is the shade of the murdered Clytemnestra. Below Orestes rests at the Omphalos stone,  supported by Athena and Apollo. In the Oresteia, Aeschylus recounts how Athena sides with the gods against the goddesses in supporting Orestes, because he is avenging his father’s death at the hands of his mother. This is the famous scene where Athena declares herself to be “for the male in all things,” upholding the patriarchal order, and banishes the Erinnyes, avengers of the mothers’ blood, to the underworld.

Erinys comes for Orestes who has taken refuge at Delphi

Here’s one last vase painting from Apulia (southern Italy), circa 320 bce. It shows another scene of male violence: Lycurgus has just murdered his wife. The serpentine-haired, winged Fury reaches toward him with her snake-coiled arm, and points a lance toward him with her other hand. In these Greek paintings, the Furies bring vengeance to men who kill women. In the medieval art, they cause the violence. The killer’s guilt is explained away and transferred to a witch-like figure.

Lycurgus kills his wife, Apulia, circa 320 bce

The ancient snaky goddesses are much closer in time and in spirit to the Cretan archetype of the Great Goddess, and ‘Ashtart of the Canaanites. So we’ll end with a closeup of the Apulian Erinys, who still shows that spirit:

Winged Erinys, Apulia, southern Italy, 320 bce

Max Dashu, August 2018.

Want more? support this work on Patreon where you can also hear podcasts from the History Sibyl…

]]>
Resources and publications https://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=881 Wed, 18 Jan 2017 07:39:12 +0000 http://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=881 Continue reading ]]>

I haven’t posted here for quite a while, as finishing my book Witches and Pagans: Women in European Folk Religion, 700-1100, kept me more than busy, what with illustration and book design and starting a publishing house, Veleda Press. (See that link for Table of Contents, Preface, and book excerpts.) My hands are still full, but I’d like to share links to some of my work, including articles, videos, dvds, web pages, posters, webcasts and online course, on the web or in hard copy.

I founded the Suppressed Histories Archives in 1970 to document global women’s history, to find out where in the world women were free, and what that looked like; and to track the patterns of domination and women’s experiences and achievements in the full spectrum of world cultures. During decades of  research, I built a collection of over 30,000 images on ancient female iconography, matricultures, patriarchal systems, female spheres of power; on goddesses, rebellious women, and witch hunting. From these I created over 100 slideshows, which i have presented in person, at grassroots venues, universities, and internationally. Now i’m able to share them via online courses and webcasts as well.

Suppressed Histories Archives: real women, global vision

More on all these subjects can be found on the Suppressed Histories website, which has many articles, image galleries, and links to videos. A major update of the site is coming soon, which will incorporate content from seven years of posts on the Suppressed Histories Facebook page, organized in a more accessible and searchable way. (It just passed 153,000 likes.) But in the meantime, the best way to explore what’s on there is to go to the Photos page.

More articles are downloadable as illustrated pdfs from my page on Academia.edu (which requires registration, but it’s free and quick). You can find “The Meanings of Goddess” in three parts on the Goddess Pages e-journal out of Glastonbury, England. (The hyperlinks go to parts I, II, and III.)

Witches and Pagans cover

My book Witches and Pagans: Women in European Folk Culture, 700-1100, was published in August 2016 by Veleda Press. (You can read table of contents, preface, and excerpts from links on that page.) This sourcebook is Vol VII of my series Secret History of the Witches (which could as well be called, What Happened in Europe) but it is the only volume published so far. (Vol. II is coming next, see below.)

I talk about Witches and Pagans in this video from the book release party at the Berkeley UU, and a couple of other clips. You can access some audio clips from an interview by Giana Ciachelli here. A recent article, “Visions of the Fates, Faeries, and the Old Goddess,” draws on material from Witches and Pagans, but through the lens of my own art. Published in October 2016 by Pantheon, A Journal of Spiritual Art. New material is also regularly posted on the Witches and Pagans Facebook page.

That’s some of the written stuff. But I believe in the power of the image and music to awaken deep memory and awareness and connection. That’s why i produced two women’s history videos with musical underscores. The most recent is Woman Shaman: the Ancients (2013). (That page has links to two trailers, as well as to the entire transcript of the video, Open Source.) My first video is Women’s Power in Global Perspective (2008), which surveys cultural founders, political and spiritual leaders, mother-right societies, builders, weavers, potters and other kinds of mother-tech; as well as healers, witches, doctors, writers, and female rebels, warriors, and liberators.

Currently I am working on Vol. II of my series Secret History of the Witches, titled Pythias, Melissae and Pharmakides, and teaching an online course by the same name. Pythia means Snake Woman, the title of the oracles of Delphi, a thousand-year-long lineage. Melissa means Bee-Woman, by which name the priestesses of Eleusis and other goddess temples were known (but here it stands for priestesses and women’s ceremonies more generally). Pharmakís originally meant Herb-Woman, but eventually expanded and stretched to mean “witch,” “enchantress.”

Pythias, Melissae and Pharmakides

Subscribers can join the course anytime through April, for advance readings from the manuscript, discussion, images, links, and monthly webcasts of slideshows on Crete, Greece, and whatever else seems relevant. I will be offering other, non-course webinars in the coming months, to be announced, which will be free to all course subscribers. Some titles include Rebel Shamans: Women Confront Empire; Women’s Power, Women’s Oppression, Women’s History. I just created a new visual talk, The Cosmic Weaver, which doesn’t even have a web page yet. It premieres in Guatemala in February. Another on Persecutory Cultures is in the works.

The Women’s Heritages Poster series is another visual resource that gathers together images of cultural patterns such as the ancient Female Icons; Sacra Vulva, or as Miriam Robbins Dexter calls it, Sacred Display; Vulva Stones, a most archaic kind of spiritual artifact that is global in scope; and Breastpots, another precious archaeological reflection of ceremony. These posters are 18 x 24 inches. A smaller set of prints (8.5 x 11), the same kind of composite images, can be viewed here.

You can find many videos clips on youtube (on the Max Dashu channel). These include numerous clips from the Women’s Power dvd and various recorded webcasts from my online courses, including Grandmother Stones from Megalithic Europe, Female Icons (globally); Magna Mater / Isis of 10,000 Names; and Ancestral Mothers of the Paleolithic.

And a page with radio / webstream interviews is coming…

]]>
The Pontifical Council for Culture has an agenda on women: the same tired old cage https://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=831 Tue, 03 Feb 2015 02:56:51 +0000 http://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=831 Continue reading ]]> The Pontifical Council for Culture meets in Rome on 4-7 February 2015 to consider “Women’s Cultures: Equality and Difference.” They’ve issued a preliminary document that tips their hand, in case you entertained any doubts that their ideas about women have changed a whit. It’s titled “Women’s Cultures: Equality and Difference,” and it endeavors — yet again — to convince women of what the male hierarchy insists is their rightful place:

“At the dawn of human history, societies divided roles and functions between men and women rigorously. To the men belonged responsibility, authority, and presence in the public sphere: the law, politics, war, power. To women belonged reproduction, education, and care of the family in the domestic sphere.”

Hold it right there. What happened to female responsibility and authority — women chieftains and medicine women and clan heads? For a long time, it was possible to get away with claiming that public female leaders never existed, but too much documentation has been piled up for this to fly anymore.

Manchu woman shaman, a major public authority in her culture

Manchu woman shaman: an important spiritual and social leader in her northeast Asian culture

“In ancient Europe, in the communities of Africa, in the most ancient civilizations of Asia, women exercised their talents in the family environment and personal relationships, while avoiding the public sphere or being positively excluded. The queens and empresses recalled in history books were notable exceptions to the norm.”

Invocatory female figure from Netafim, circa 5000 bce

Invocatory female figure from Netafim, circa 5000 bce

These prelates are advancing a claim of universal male domination — a doctrine to which the church hierarchy is deeply attached. They don’t feel any need to substantiate this claim with evidence. Their fiat has been enough for such a long time, they can’t recognize that the world has moved on. Taking state-based societies as the norm, they pass over long epochs of human history, including neolithic societies with their many depictions of female leadership, and a vast array of Indigenous societies that don’t fit into the cramped sexual politics being touted here.

Women's ceremonal leadership is a central theme of predynastic Egyptian art

Women’s ceremonal leadership is a central theme of predynastic Egyptian art

Women in ancient societies did not “avoid the public sphere”: not the African warriors, nor the Cretan and Iberian priestesses, nor even the Sumerian and Babylonian and Phoenician priestesses. Here we are talking recorded history, that leaves no room for ambiguity. Even in much later periods, we know of Turkic epic singers, the judges and scribes of Cambodia, the powerful market women’s associations of West Africa. But why discuss only these continents, leaving out the Americas, Australia, and the Pacific islands? They also count as ancient societies, and they have their own histories of prominent women, of female law-makers and diplomats and chieftains, of ceremonial leaders and warriors.

The Lady of Cao, a priestess-chieftain in 4th century Perú

The Lady of Cao, a priestess-chieftain in 4th century Perú (a modern reenactment based on archaeological finds)

The Iroquois and Cherokee remember that “mocassin-makers” had the right to act as “war-breakers,” refusing to supply men who wanted to go to war without consent of the women’s council. In Yunnan, the Lisu people say that men had to stop fighting if a woman of either side waved her skirt to call for an armistice. Similarly, on the Pacific island Vanatinai, a woman could give the signal for war or peace by taking off her outer skirt. This is female authority. It is not a fantasy. It is historical reality.

The Huastecs sculptured a large number of female monuments in stone, in eastern Mexico

The Huastecs sculptured a large number of female monuments in stone, in eastern Mexico

The Pontifical Council’s statement passes over the great majority of Indigenous societies, including those in which female responsibility, authority, and public presence were and remain integral. Among the Six Nations of the Iroquois, the Gantowisas have structural authority to select chiefs and to “knock off their horns” if they fail in their responsibilities. These chiefs act as delegates of the people, not lords over them, a fact that continued to astound European observers who made very different assumptions about leadership, as well as about female power.

But there’s more: the women’s council of Gantowisas (“matrons” in European accounts) discussed issues and, as Seneca historian Barbara Mann writes, the men’s council could not debate any issue until the women’s council forwarded it over to them. They had a structural balance between male and female sovereignty. Mann also calls the women elders the “federal reserve board” of the Six Nations, referring to their control of economic resources.

Hopi women carry out the Lakon ceremony; men have no authority over women in their matrilineal / matrilocal culture.

Hopi women carry out the Lakon ceremony; men have no authority over them in this matrilineal / matrilocal culture.

And where, in the priesthood’s blinkered view, where are the female founders, like Ti-n-Hinan, the ancestral mother of the Imushagh / Tuareg people of the Hoggar, whose 4th century tomb is the most prominent  monument of the region? What about the female chieftains of the Edomites whose names are listed in Genesis, or for that matter, Miriam the prophetess, Deborah and Huldah? Where are the Montanist prophetesses who were denounced as heretics in 3rd century Asia Minor? The women who led rebellions against conquest and colonization, labor movements, whose actions struck the sparks for the French and Russian revolutions?

Ti-n-Hinan, ancestral founder of the Imushagh/Tuareg people of the Hoggar

Ti-n-Hinan, ancestral founder of the Imushagh/Tuareg people

The denial of female spiritual leadership is especially fraught for a institution fighting with all its might to hold back the tide of female ordination. To admit the massive  evidence for female priesthood — the wu in ancient China, the mikogami in Japan, the mudang in Korea, to name some of the East Asian societies where female shamans once predominated (and still do in Korea) — would be to pull out the last struts supporting the crumbling edifice of an all-male power structure. This hierarchy has been severely shaken by scandals over pandemic child-rapes, and over the cover-ups by bishops, as well as over financial corruption in the Curia. Many people readily declare that women would do a far better job at running the church.

Wu (female shamans) acted as healers, prophets and rainmakers in ancient China. Bronze hu circa 4th century bce

Wu (female shamans) acted as healers, prophets and rainmakers in ancient China. Bronze hu circa 4th century bce

Having pretended that male leadership was a historical universal, an innate and essential quality, the Pontifical Councillors move on to the subect of women’s movements that have challenged and overturned old customary constraints:

“From the latter part of the 19th century onwards, especially in the West, the division of male and female ‘spaces’ was put into question. Women demanded rights, such as that of voting, access to higher education, and to the professions. And so the road was opened for the parity of the sexes.”

That sounds really good, right? That women gained our rights, and things opened up. Oh… wait. Uh-oh: “This step was not, and is not, without problems.”

What were these problems? They tell us: that women were taking on roles “that appeared to be exclusively meant for the male world” [meant, by whom?] and their reflections on their situation were “sometimes becoming entwined with political and strongly ideological movements.” These realizations, we are meant to understand, are far more problematic than the “strongly ideological” doctrines of female subordination that the institutional church has enforced through “political” means, from crusades to inquisitorial trials and witch hunts, to the modern laws and policies the church espouses, that still make women second class citizens whose lives and very bodies are expendable.

The Pontifical Council doesn’t deem patriarchal structures to be problematic; it continues to maintain that they are in line with god-given essential qualities. It is the female pushback against them that it dislikes and deplores. Women! stay in your place.

“Which kerygmatic proclamation [“preaching,” in plain English] should there be for women, one that is not closed in on a moralistic vision? Which indications do we need for a new pastoral praxis, for a vocational path toward marriage and family, toward religious consecration, in view of the new self-awareness that women have?”

What is “new” about pushing women “toward marriage and family”? This much is clear: by “religious consecration” they do not mean female ordination to the priesthood. More likely, they are dreaming up some new religious trappings for the role of wife and mother as a sop to women’s longing for greater inclusion in the church.

The worst thing that could happen, in the minds of the writers, is that women reject the feminine role as they define it: “It is a matter of protecting the dignity of women, respecting what is genuinely feminine (and this is the real equality), and avoiding that the woman, in trying to insert herself responsibly into society that is markedly masculine, lose her feminility [sic].”

This is nothing less than a restatement of the old patriarchal principle: women belong in the private sphere, under the authority of men. Not only that, but “society” means “men.” If women are included in how you think about “society,” there is no need for us to “insert” ourselves into it. We are already part of it. But the statement shows no awareness of that simple fact. These high-ranking prelates don’t believe that women belong in the public sphere at all — and least of all the priesthood.

In fact, they don’t really want women’s input in this initiative on “Women’s Culture.” As Soline Humbert informs me, “The Pontifical Council for Culture has 32 permanent members, all male, appointed for 5 years. Almost all are cardinals, bishops and priests, and a couple of lay men (“men of culture”…No “women of culture”…) There are also Consultors who are appointed by the pope… There are 27 male consultors, and 7 women, ( if I remember correctly), appointed last Summer by Pope Francis.”

In other words: that’s zero females among the 32 permanent members of the Pontifical Council, while in the outer circle of Consultors the ratio of men to women is 4:1, for a total of 59 men and 7 women. This is who is going to issue a definitive statement on “Women’s Culture” — and they expect that to pass for change, in their  initiative to engage Catholic women.

This is a familiar pattern of high priestcraft: barring women entirely from the core of power, and admitting a few carefully screened females to an outer circle, where they are greatly outnumbered (and outranked) by men. Soline adds that “there has been a mention of a group of women working on the outline discussion document now released, but I have not seen the names of the members of that group (anonymous women?) nor how they were selected. In addition, while they mentioned there would be an ‘Open Day’ it seems it’s again by invitation only for a select few….”

Venus in bondage: the hierarchy's vision of Women's Culture

Venus in bondage: the hierarchy’s vision of Women’s Culture

The image selected for this initiative is highly symbolic: a naked, headless, armless, legless woman in bondage. It is Man Ray’s 1936 photo “Venus Restored.” This is their idea of Women’s Culture?!? It has already outraged countless women. Soline Humbert sums up the background of this piece on the We Are Church Ireland blog:

“Man Ray had a strong interest in Sade and sadism and there is a recurrent sadistic streak in his artwork, as well as in his relationships with women, characterised by domination and aggression. Man Ray photographed women wearing implements of bondage and enacting scenes of torture. He also helped others, like William B Seabrook realise in real life his fantasies of women bondage.

“What is behind this choice of female bondage image by the (all male)Pontifical Council for culture? Is it the choice of the group of women (Who are they?) behind this document? What message does it seek to convey?”

We may well ask.

The same goes for Pope Francis’ recent scoldings of Pilipina women for their high birth rates, after decades of churchmen steadily advocating the rhythm method! As if abstinence is a real option for most married women in this world. He does not have the least clue about the reality that these women live.  When it comes to women, nothing has changed.

Neither has the cold attitude toward Indigenous people, whose enslavement, starvation, floggings, and other abuse in the mission system is being affronted by the planned canonization of Junípero Serra. (See 8:50 >> on linked video, where descendants talk about kidnappings, about their ancestors being starved on 700 calories a day, while being forced to labor, and made to kneel on tiles during the entire Mass, kept in line by guards with whips and bayonets.) In these two important social justice issues, women and Indigenous people, the tone-deaf pontiff does not even pretend to want change.

image005

The backlash against women has even reached liberal San Francisco. It took 16 centuries to get the ban on females at the altar overturned, for a couple of decades, in some places, and now some priests are trying to turn it back. “The Rev. Joseph Illo, pastor at Star of the Sea Church since August, said he believes there is an “intrinsic connection” between the priesthood and serving at the altar — and because women can’t be priests, it makes sense to have only altar boys. “Maybe the most important thing is that it prepares boys to consider the priesthood.”

“The Richmond District parish is now the only one in the Archdiocese of San Francisco that will exclude girls from serving at the altar. Such a decision is “a pastor’s call,” said archdiocese spokesman Chris Lyford. “An altar boy program would be a male bonding experience, one that helps them socialize and develop their leadership potential, Illo said. Girls would still be allowed to perform readings during Mass.” Isn’t that special;  girls will be allowed to read out loud.

Mexicana curandera smudging the pope: gifts and blessings from sources as yet unrecognized

Mexicana curandera smudging the pope: gifts and blessings from sources yet to receive due recognition

This is not going to fly, because too many Catholics have awakened to the realization that they are the church. The women, especially, know that things must change, because they are the ones who are out there doing the real work, holding things together and picking up the pieces, as the number of ordained men drops and the hierarchy scrambles to find men to be in charge. All this has to change. The option for the poor doesn’t mean much without a recognition that women are the poorest of the poor, the ones who carry a tremendous load, on whose shouders the whole edifice rests. You can’t have a progressive agenda without recognizing that their responsibilities give them a spiritual authority of their own. It’s well past time for the prelates to recognize women’s knowing, women’s authority, women’s rights.

]]>
The Cailleach in Irish Megalithic Traditions https://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=792 Thu, 08 Jan 2015 23:01:09 +0000 http://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=792 Continue reading ]]> © Max Dashu

Irish oral tradition associates the Cailleach with many ancient hilltop monuments that date to the neolithic era. Some passage graves are called by her name, often named as her “house.” Others she is said to have built, or created by tossing boulders from hilltop to hilltop, or by carrying stones in her skirt or apron, which she drops, or the apron-strings break, scattering the stones across the landscape.

Countless Irish myths tell how the Cailleach constructed huge cairns and mounds, megalithic monuments, and even Christian-era round towers in a single night. Some are known by names like “one-night’s-work.” [Wood-Martin, 134] Some of the best-known Cailleach monuments are Slieve Gullion in Armagh, Loughcrew in Meath, and Carrownamadoo 2 in Sligo.

Entrance to House of the Cailleach, Slieve-Gullion, Armagh

Entrance to Calliagh Birra’s House, Slieve-Gullion, Armagh

The Cailleach Bhéarra was said to live in a deep chamber under a hilltop megalith near Slieve Gullion in Armagh. It is called Calliagh Birra’s House. [O Hogain, 68] The highest-placed of all Irish megaliths, it sits on the southern summit of the mountain, where it aligns with solar movements. It was surrounded by kerbstones and had three flat stone basins within its chamber. The name Sliabh gCullinn means “steep-sloped mountain.” People visited this place on Blaeberry Sunday, a survival of Lughnasadh. [Ross 1973: 156] A lake near the summit is also named after the Cailleach, and on the western side of Slieve Gullion, the Ballykeel dolmen is known as Cathaoir na Caillí, the “Hag’s Chair.” [Fossard, 113]

The Cailleach's Chair, Ballykeel, Armagh

The Cailleach’s Chair, Ballykeel, Armagh

Other traditions called the Cailleach of Slieve Gullion a “witch.” Nevertheless, folklore held that she was a guardian of the elixir of wisdom: “On the mountain somewhere, there is a well of wisdom and magic meather [mead], from which if we only knew the recipe, we could go to that marvelous ale, that once tasted — ‘age could not touch us, nor sickness, nor death’.” [T.G.F Paterson, Country Cracks – Old Tales from the County of Armagh, 1939, in http://www.voicesfromthedawn.com/slieve-gullion/ ]

Leabhadh Chailligh, the "Crone's Bed," Cork

Leabhadh Chailligh, the “Crone’s Bed,” Cork

In Sligo, the megalithic site Carrownamaddoo 2 (Castledargan) is also called Calliagh A Vera’s House. [O Hogain, 68] In the mountains above Kilross, in western Tipperary, stands another stone formation the peasants call the House of the Cailleach. [Wood-Martin, 131] The Labbacallee Wedge Tomb in Cork is said to be her burial place; the name, from Irish Leabhadh Chailligh or Leaba Caillighe, means “the Old Woman’s Bed.” [Fossard, 133; http://www.voicesfromthedawn.com/labbacallee/ ]

Megaliths at Loughcrew, Slabh na Caillíghe

Megaliths at Loughcrew, Slabh na Caillíghe

Sliabh na Caillíghe

The megalithic chambers of Loughcrew are perhaps the Old Woman’s most renowned namesake. They stand atop a low range of eastern Meath, Sliabh na Caillíghe, “the Old Woman’s Mountains.” Jonathan Swift was told of her prodigious deeds there in 1720, when he visited Loughcrew:

Determined now her tomb to build,
Her ample skirt with stones she filled,
And dropped a heap on Carnmore;
Then stepped one thousand yards, to Loar,
And dropped another goodly heap;
And then with one prodigious leap
Gained Carnbeg; and on its height
Displayed the wonders of her might.
And when approached death’s awful doom,
Her chair was placed within the womb
Of hills whose tops with heather bloom.

[http://www.voicesfromthedawn.com/loughcrew/ ]

The three hilltops in this story are covered with cairns (“passage graves,” in archaeological parlance, or “womb tombs” in ecofeminist recogntion of their symbolic configuration). Two of the hills are Carnbane East and West in Loughcrew. The monuments on a third hill near Patrickstown have been destroyed within recent centuries, with the exception of a few kerbstones and a single interior stone engraved with symbols. Carnbane East has seven womb tombs: Cairn T at the summit, surrounded by six others in ruins. Carnbane West has more, but is on private property and not open to the public.

Stone honeycombed with deep cupmarks, Cairn T passageway

Stone honeycombed with deep cupmarks, lines, and at least one vulva. Cairn T passageway

The Loughcrew passage graves (that have been excavated) were collective burial sites. Remains of many cremations had been placed on the flat stone basins in their inner recesses, as was also done at Brú na Bóinne, Knowth, and other sites, and have been found in the soil under them, apparently as they were brushed away to place new remains on the stones. But the megalithic chambers were also sanctuaries of renewal and astronomical wisdom, as their solar alignments demonstrate, and places of ceremony. More than half the counties of Ireland are visible from these hilltops. Covered in quartz pebbles, the cairns would have gleamed in the sun from a distance, just as at their larger and more famous successor, Brú na Bóinne.

Aerial view of the cruciform chamber within the great mound of Cairn T

Aerial view of the cruciform chamber within the great mound of Cairn T

The megalithic stone chambers were originally covered by mounds, some of which remain. The major mounds  are surrounded by giant kerbstones in the manner of Brú na Boinne. They are entered through a passageway lined with stones, more or less flat-faced, often engraved with symbols, including sun signs, concentric circles, vulvas, and cupmarks (some of these unusually deep). The narrow hall leads into a central chamber, usually flanked by three smaller recesses, one facing the entrance and two others off to each side. The plan of the interior is in the shape of a quadrant (see above).

    Backstone of Cairn L, Carnbane West, Loughcrew (from Wood-Martin, Elder Faiths of Ireland)

Backstone of Cairn L, Carnbane West, Loughcrew (from Wood-Martin, Elder Faiths of Ireland)

In some cairns, the backstone of the recess facing the entryway is engraved with elaborate petroglyphs, which the sun lights up at certain times of year, such as the equinoxes. The backstone of Cairn L has an elaborate design of concentric circles (clustered in patterns suggestive of cell division), spirals, and vulvas. A blueish limestone menhir, called the Whispering Stone, stands in the central chamber and receives rays of sunlight at set calendrical intervals.

Backstone of Cairn T receives sunlight at dawn on spring equinox

Backstone of Cairn T receives sunlight at dawn on spring equinox

In Cairn T, solar symbols on the backstone are aligned to catch the rays of the rising sun on the spring and fall equinoxes. This excellent site has a video of the light moving through the chamber.

Vulvas in the passageway stones of Cairn T: two details

Vulvas in the passageway stones of Cairn T: two closeups

What amazed me most at Cairn T was the passageway orthostats. They were carved with concentric circles, curving lines, solar patterns, and portals, including a lot of very definite and deeply engraved vulvas. There are also numerous round cupules—some four inches deep—and grooved lines. Some of the cupules are clustered in honeycomb patterns. The concentric circles and vulvas repeat on the backstone as well. These patterns are repeated in other cairns. And yet no one ever seems to write about them. Some of the concentric circles are not in fact circular, but oval and peaked at one end, with a vulvular hollow at their center. These symbols bleed into one another.

Stone with vulvas, passageway into Cairn T chamber

Stone with concentric circles and vulvas, in Cairn T passageway

Why vulvas on the stones? The entire shape of these ancient chambers is like a womb of Earth that receives the dead. Their cremated remains sink into the soil, returning to Earth to be reborn. The vulvas are portals of life, of rebirth, in the perpetual bones of Earth herself. They appear amidst concentric circles, suggestive of conception, suns, and energy lines.

The deep cupules on these same stones are known to be involved in conception magic in many cultures, and it is likely that women desiring to conceive children might have come to these ancestral sanctuaries, to touch or rub, make ablutions upon the stone vulvas — or to engrave new ones. What we are seeing in these shapes is a continuation of themes that begin before the megalithic era, in petroglyphs across the landscape of Ireland, of Britain, and in fact of the entire world.

Petroglyphs on rock face at Derrynablaha, County Kerry

Petroglyphs on rock face at Derrynablaha, County Kerry

The Hag’s Chair at Cairn T faces north, looking across the countryside. It is a ten by six foot stone seat engraved with concentric circles, portals, cupules, cup-and-ring marks, triangles, and maybe a snake. Most of the symbols have greatly eroded since the Eugene Conwell published a drawing of it in 1870, and have faded even more since the sketch in Wood-Martin’s Elder Faiths of Ireland after the turn of the century. Very few of the markings remained visible when I was there, especially on the upper parts of the stone.

Hag's Chair at Cairn T, summit of Carnbane East, as it appeared in mid-19th century

Hag’s Chair at Cairn T, summit of Carnbane East, as it appeared in the mid-19th century

Folklore says that the Cailleach looked out over her domain from this chair, where she watched the stars. [http://www.carrowkeel.com/sites/loughcrew/cairnt2.html  ] “Local lore states that a modern visitor, seated on the chair, will be granted a single wish.” [http://www.voicesfromthedawn.com/loughcrew/ ]

The Hag's Chair as it appears today.

The Hag’s Chair as it appears today.

Garavogue is the name given to Cailleach in the stories about Loughcrew told to Jonathan Swift. Megalithic tradition in Sligo also names the Cailleach Garavogue [Gharbhóg], who shares her name with a river in that county. She may have originated there. In a later telling of the Loughcrew story, Cailleach Bhéarra comes there from the north to perform a magical act that would give her great power. She filled her apron with stones, dropping a cairn on Carnbane; then jumped a mile to Slieve-na-cally (Hag’s Mountain) to drop another, and on to the next hill, where she let another stone fall. On her fourth and final leap — here we see the repeated attempt to mythically kill her off — she slipped and fell to her death. [Wood-Martin, 251-3]

Stone at Cairn H, Carnbane West

Stone at Cairn H, Carnbane West

The many engraved stones at Cairn H on Carnbane West repeat the concentric circles and solar symbolism of the eastern cairns. This large passage grave is rimmed with 41 kerbstones. In the back recess was the largest of all the stone basins—a slab, really—found in the megalithic chambers of Ireland. It rested on six small stone balls and remains of cremations (which may have originally been placed on the stone slab).

Engraved bone slips from La Tène period, Cairn H

Engraved bone slips from La Tène period, Cairn H

Cairn H also contained evidence that ceremonial activity continued in these monuments into the late Iron Age. Slips of bone carved with La Tène swirl patterns were found there: “It may be that these decorated bone flakes were placed into the passage tomb, some 3,000 years after its construction, as a votive offering to its long forgotten, but still respected, spiritual powers. The appearance of bronze rings, bone pins, and glass beads also found in this location would seem to support that hypothesis. Another possibility is that the cairn was the location of an oracle, who may have “read” the decorated bone fragments, as would a fortune-teller.” [More at http://www.voicesfromthedawn.com/loughcrew/ ]

Inscribed stone in entrance way, Cairn T

Inscribed stone in entrance way, Cairn T

]]>
The Acaaju of Abkhazia https://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=782 Fri, 07 Mar 2014 01:37:33 +0000 http://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=782 Continue reading ]]> In the western Caucasus, the Abkhazians call women who act as oracles, medicine women and ritual leaders acaaju, “questioner.” Their origin story says that they were preceded by male seers who became mediators between humans and gods. The first of these was the brave warrior Achi Zoschan. He chose a young relative Azartl to succeed him, but that candidate made a deal to give up the post if his sick female relative was cured. She then became the new mediator, and quickly proved her mettle during a severe cattle plague.

My reconstruction of what an acaaju might have looked like, in cross-gendered regalia.

My reconstruction of what an acaaju might have looked like, in cross-gendered regalia.

 

“The herds were saved, and since this time, the prophetesses, acaaju, have been active. They were given to living in mutual enmity, since some of them were subject to Afy, others on the contrary to Zoschan.” [One a thunder god, the other a deified hero.]

The acaaju determined which deity had caused an illness and what remedies should be used. “Sometimes she obtained ecstatic inspiration and cried out the name and the demands of the angered divinity. At other times she went lightly across the room or even sat on a high seat and acted as though she was carrying on a conversation with the divinity, to whom she directed questions and from whom she received answers. After a while, she made known the result.” The forge god might be angry over a false oath made in the smithy, a cult place. Blacksmiths worked closely with the acaaju.

In cases of false oath, she divined: “she spread out beans in front of her, and on the basis of the arrangment of these found out the name of the transgressor.” She also used astrology. Once she’d made her determination, the acaaju told people what kind of animals were to be offered. “She often carried out the sacrifice herself. Beyond that, she also performed various actions of a magical sort. Thus, for example, she led some domestic animal three times around the sick person, after which it was driven away toward the forest, supposedly carrying the sickness away with it.” People paid her in skins and meat of sacrificed animals, or in sizeable amounts of money.

The acaaju did not always lead the ceremony, but “selected other women for them, who acted on the instruction of this—as one may say with reason—authoritative medicine woman and carried out her secret lore.”

A major Abhazian deity was Dzidlan, the Water Mother or Mistress of Waters. She was especially important for women in childbirth, who offered her prayers and sacrifices after a successful birth. Some illnesses such as long fevers were ‘caused by the water’ and could be cured with the help of this goddess. Her ceremonies  were carried out at a sanctuary “usually at a pure sweet water lake or a stream.” It was common for a “blameless old woman” and a prayer woman to lead the afflicted to the waterside. The first secretly took something belonging to the sick person and went to the water. “There on the bank she drew herself up and spoke: ‘Water Mother, Mistress, if the invalid is bound by you, release him.’ Thereupon she touched the water three times with the article taken along and, using alder leaves, took a few drops of the water which she had carried home and put over the hearth. Then she ran out of the house with the words, ‘Just so, may your sickness also run away!’”

If this gave relief, then the prayer woman was invited to continue the ceremonies, with a hen, cock, filled loaf of unleavened bread and three candles. One candle went to Water Mother, one to her husband, and one to her Maidservant or Benefactress, who acts as an intercessor. The patient went to the water with the prayer woman and knelt while she successively lit the candles  and placed them on the shore, praying to the three divinities. “At the conclusion, the prayer woman rubbed her hand over the back of the patient and with this gesture she liberated him from the illness.”

Another ceremony aimed to cure a serious illness caused by the Rainbow. It too was carried out with offerings at the stream, but this time the women “threw a twisted yarn bridge from one bank to the other.” They covered the person with a piece of cotton; then “the prayer woman walked around him with a previously prepared doll in her hands and turned, with prayers, to the Water Mother and the Water Father. Little pieces of each sort of food were consecrated and thrown into the water. The doll was set into a gourd decorated with a lit candle which the prayer woman put into the river saying, ‘Instead of the patient, be satisfied with this.’ Finally, the old woman passed her hand over the back of the sick person, lifted him up, and told him to go home, however with a sharp warning not to look back.”

Johanssens notes that “the acaaju was called by a masculine name during the prophecy, and that one generally spoke to her as though she were a man.” Explained as her representing the legendary Zoschan. He adds that this was “a ritual change of sex” typical of shamanism; “her change of sex was fictive and temporary, that is to say, limited to the execution of the prophecy…”

“The social position of the acaaju was very strong, and her opinion was counted on in all public affaris, for example, even in the hearing of witnesses in criminal procedures. There were some among them who had succeeded to fame among all the Abkhazians and to whom people from distant regions came in order to get advice.” People wanted to be related to the acaaju, and sometimes sought be be adopted into her family.

The acaaju “exhibits elements, such as ecstasy, communication with supernatural beings, an exceedingly powerful social position, and last but not least, the change of sex…” which he sees as linked to shamanism.

He notes the influence of ”ancient Anatolia with its ecstatic religious practices,” as well later conquests by the Mongols who dominated the Caucasus during the 13th and 14th centuries. Doubtless there were other influences in between.

© 2012 Max Dashu

SOURCE:: Andrejs Johansons, “The Shamaness of the Abkhazians,” History of Religions. Vol. 11. No. 3 (Feb. 1972) pp 251-56
Image © copyleft Max Dashu (may be used with attribution only without alteration)

]]>
Oromo women protest male violence under banner of goddess Atete https://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=777 Fri, 07 Mar 2014 01:30:48 +0000 http://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=777 Continue reading ]]> I found this article while searching for information about the Oromo goddess Atete on a scholarly database. Here the southern Ethiopian goddess hardly appears in her own right, most of the Oromo having (incompletely) converted to Islam or Christianity. Yet she has survived in women’s domain, especially in a ceremonial period around birth, known as Qanafa, which remains sacrosanct. The women fiercely defend this time sacred to Atete and, although they are abused at other times, militantly confront men who commit abuse during the Qanafa seclusion. Much of the information available about Atete revolves around these ritualized female protests rather than the actual rites of the goddess.

Jeylan W. Hussein. “A Cultural Representation of Women in the Oromo Society.” African Study Monographs 25 (3), October 2004, pp 103-147 Online:

Oromo scholar Jeylan Hussein outlines the decline in women’s status in recent history, losses that have accelerated since conversions to Christianity (pushed by the dominant Amhara group) and Islam (embraced by many as a means of resisting these traditional enemies of the Oromo). He cites testimony of elders and historical records that indicate that women’s status was better in earlier times and that gender inequality hardened in the colonial era. [108-9]

It’s not that the old laws weren’t patriarchal. Oromo society was already patrilineal, with a harsh sexual double standard that stigmatized females and practiced boy-preference. Men who could afford it married several women, and senior wives ranked far above additional wives and concubines. Hussein analyzes numerous proverbs, showing how they describe women as inferior beings, as weak, fickle, irrational. They overwhelmingly depict women as men’s chattel. Several proverbs advocate beating wives, and compare them to donkeys and horses who could be tamed and beaten at will. As Hussein summarizes, Oromo sayings prescribe male mastery and female subordination. [121-28]

Men “actively excluded” women from the Gada generational system. However, when men held their assemblies, women used their work songs to make their position known with “pointed commentary… or a direct criticism of some unjust or unwise decision the men are contemplating.” [Legesse, 1973: 20-21, in Hussein,109]

Oral tradition also says that Oromo women received certain regalia and powers from the Gada system. An official called the Abba Gada brought to his wife two insignia of female honor and authority, a sinqe (ritual stick) and a qanafa (sacred piece of wood). She used the sinqe in anointments and other important ceremonies. The qanafa was to be tied around her forehead while giving birth, and for several months afterward. This wearing of the qanafa represented the high dignity of mothers, and served as the focal point of female protest and resistence.

Among the Shoa Oromo, most people are nominally Orthodox Christians, but the old religion is still in the mix: “One example of this is the periodic observance of muuda (anointment) by both men and women, and Atete (female divinity) by women.” [105] In Oromo religion, Hussein contrasts “the patriarchal view of Waaq, and the matriarchal view of women’s divinities such as Atete and Marame.” [110] Women’s Atete rituals belong to a cultural belief that women are intermediaries between the spiritual and physical, and “that Waaq listens to women’s desire and instantly responds to it.” [111]

Hussein disputes early British accounts of Atete as a fertility goddess with annual ceremonies. He says that there is no fixed date for her festival: “Whenever natural disasters fall, women gather and perform the ritual.” So when crops failed, the rains stopped, epidemics spread, or in times of war, it was the women who prayed to relieve the hardships. The men formally asked them to “gather around a sacred Qiltu (sycamore tree), distinguished ford or high ground, or any renowned ujubaa (tree shrine). The women gathered and prayed to revert the affliction.” [111]

Hussein offers one example of “rainmaking Atete hymns of the Arsi Oromo women” intended to win favor from Waaq. Once again, Atete is not named, only “the Lord,” indicating that revisions have erased the goddess from “Atete hymns.” Tradition held that after women’s prayer, Waaq “would immediately provide the community members with a much rain as they wanted.” He notes this as a female “leadership role” that also “indicates the subtle interconnection between ayyaan (spirituality), uumaa (nature) and saffuu (ethical and moral code). [111-112]

Women use the Atete ceremony, among other things, for rituals of conception. An Arsi couple would ask the saddeetoo senior mothers sodality to set up an Atete ritual for them. The village women would gather and celebrate a sing with call and response prayers.  Among the Borana, a childless woman would come  to a mother of dabballe (young men of rank) for blessing. Her forehead and belly were rubbed with butter and libations of milk and honey wine poured. [112; 137, note 11]

By all accounts, however, Oromo women have lost ground. The most traditional groups retained a base for female solidarity that reached across divisions of kin and marriage ties. The Arsi Oromo called this female organization saddeetoo or saddeettan hanfalaa. This group of married and older women “provides the women with the impetus to participate in village councils and the cultural vehicle to mobilize en masse against mistreatment by men.” [103-07]

It was these female groups that invoked Atete “to counter male atrocities and to enforce religious sanctions against related misbehaviors.” Women’s primary impetus to action was a violation of the qanafa post-birth sanctity during which family members are supposed “to please the mother and avoid annoying her.” The husband has to respect taboos surrounding birth, which include not abusing his wife. If he beats or verbally abuses her “while she is observing this ritual, the wife throws off any responsibility at hand and heads straight to communicate the matter to the saddeettan hanfalaa (council of senior mothers).” Even when the woman tries to kept such abuse secret, other women tell the female elders’ council. “Then, the senior mothers mobilize en masse against the atrocity committed by the husband. As a result of this, all of the women in the village abandon their individual houses, and protest against the offense.”

“The village women consider the offense committed against a single woman as violation committed against them as a group. Hence, no woman in the village is excused from the protest unless and otherwise she has an absolute inconvenience she has no control over.” They will not tolerate any woman who breaks this female solidarity. … After abandoning their houses, the women gather in the compound of the misbehaving husband and sing songs of resentment.” They may also decide to lay a curse on him. [113]

“Once they are in Atete ceremony, the women are observing a ritual and many taboos come into full force.” [113] No one can speak to them or cross their path as they go in procession. Bystanders have to stop and wait respectfully until they have passed, or risk a most serious curse resulting in incurable illness, ruin, or madness. To avoid these magical disasters, the male elders approach the senior women to find out what the problem is. If the male elders do not intervene immediately, the women leave and take refuge with another clan. Custom requires that they be received with honor, and their heads anointed with butter. The elders of that clan would then get in touch with male elders of the boycotted clan. These elders would have to ritually make amends and agree to deal with the abusive husband.

The ritual of reconciliation begins with the male elders taking a sheaf of green grass to the women (a sign  of reverence) and reciting a formal apology for invading their space. The male elders say all together, Dhiltee dhinna (save us from your eyes). The women elders accept the grass, responding, Hoffola Hobbaya (Be saved!) or Ijarraa hafaa! (Survive our eyes!). [In the footnotes, Hussein explains that “Save us from your eyes” is a standard disclaimer when facing a big gathering, that looking at the group, in this case at the women, is not to be considered shameless or bold.] After this opening, the men ask the women why they are protesting. One of the female elders recounts the crimes committed against the female community, against motherhood (protected by Atete, thus this protest is named for the goddess). “If need be, she reminds the male elders the lallaba of the good old days, when they were granted honour.” [114]

The outcome is that the wrongdoer makes amends by “compensating the group and appeasing their divinity.” He usually does this by sacrificing a cow or calf for the women to feast on. “If the offender does not confess his mistake in person or in absentia, the women impose a more serious curse called abaarsa sinqee (the curse of sinqe). This is the stage when all of the women rest their sinqe (ritual sticks) on the ground and pray to Waaq for the offender to be ruined.” So the Atete society has two sanctions: this one against a single person, and the bidhaa against the council of male elders. [114]

Hussein writes that the Atete ceremony has two functions: one is regulating women’s morality (but she says nothing about this). The other is to enable women to challenge male domination as a group. She observes that this ceremony is seriously endangered, like so much other Oromo culture. He discusses the pressures from Islam, particularly the “fanatical” Wahabi sect active in her country: “In the region, the preachers of this movement indignify those who cling to indigenous creeds by calling them Awaama or Jahila (ignorant). They condemn the traditional religious practices in its entirety as shirk (heretical)…” Hussein observes that Muslim Oromo women are abandoning the Atete rituals, and thus losing a significant mechanism of solidarity and resistance. [115]

“The gradual expansion of the two universalistic religions, Islam and Christianity, has directly or indirectly contributed towards the decline of the value of the Oromo women’s Atete ritual over the last century. With the recent resurgence of the competitive religions, their religious influence on the communal practices of the people has gained maximum momentum.”

© 2010 Max Dashu

The women’s ritual stick is especially interesting, since this appears in the Saharan murals as well as in modern South Africa, Zimbabwe, Namibia and other parts of Africa, as well as on other continents.

I originally posted this commentry on the Suppressed Histories Facebook page after a reader who challenged my suggestion that a woman’s bruised eye could have anything to do with male batterer pattern. It gives ample evidence of endemic and sanctioned wife-beatings in that cultural context, but the feminist Oromo scholar’s article is interesting for another reason. He shows how Goddess veneration provided a basis for female solidarity and resistance, even though it had shrunk to apply only to periods of pregnancy and birth, and even as the goddess Atete herself was being done away with by christianization and islamicization.


]]>
Atete, Goddess of the Oromo People in southern Ethiopia https://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=772 Fri, 07 Mar 2014 01:22:47 +0000 http://www.sourcememory.net/veleda/?p=772 Continue reading ]]> You may have read that the Zar religion originated among the Oromo people (also known as “Galla”). Atete is their great goddess. I’m sharing some information I found back in the mid-70s. The source cites are lost, but this is too important to leave out, all the more so because so far I’ve found no other sources offering this level of detail about the Oromo Goddess. I’ve left the account in the present tense even though this veneration has lost tremendous ground in the past century, under pressure from Christianity and Islam.

Oromo woman, possibly wearing a cäle rosary, 1890

Oromo woman, possibly wearing a cäle rosary, 1890

Atete governs the fate of people on earth. She is “power of life, abundance, fortune, wealth,” and Fridays are sacred to her. Women carry strings of specially colored beads (cäle) as a rosary consecrated to this goddess. Groups of women wear necklaces of Atete, hold a feast, and then go to gather herbs. She was originally the Oromo Great Goddess, but even the Christian Amhara have assimilated some aspects of her veneration.

Her feast days are the first of the Ethiopian calendar (a parallel with Isis in Kemet, ancient Egypt, to whom some modern Oromo indigenistas compare her). A great festival and rituals are celebrated every year to honor her, with ritual preparations of steeped barley. On the evening of the festival, women of each household chant invocations over the feast: “Atete Hara, Atete Jinbi, Atete Dula, forget not my children, watch over my husband and my cattle.” Or “My mother, my mistress, please look after me.” Then they burst into the women’s shrilling triumphal cry illi-li-li as they pick up the coffee beans and begin to prepare the drink. On this evening, the woman of the house enter deep trance and speaks as oracles of the zar. The spirits advise the women on the coming year and feast on the food set before them.

The zar (spirit) is passed from mother to daughter; husbands actively try to crush this shamanic tradition. Most zar-doctors are women. [This too has changed, to some extent.] The Gurri was a whirling dance invoking zar, to make them become Weqabi, protective spirits who ride their ‘horses,’ the entranced women.

This fleshes out a bit what several authors have documente about the Oromo origins of the zar religion: that among this people it was connected to indigenous goddess reverence. Not that she was the only spirit, but she is the heart of the religion. Here’s another tidbit from the Amharic side of Ethiopia, whose women massively adopted zar from the Oromo. (Enslaved Oromo women spread the religion into Sudan and Arabia as well, but that’s a much larger subject.)

The earliest known Ethiopian inscriptions are to the goddesses Naurau and Ashtar near Axum. The Ge’ez alphabet is older than Arabic or Greek, and many volumes of a later period fill a large royal library. Ge’ez means “free,” and is a Semitic language. Women of the royal line were called Makeda, like the Queen of Sheba (Sa’ba). One source refers to “The ‘crescent and disc’ of Astarte, a design common to the great fallen monoliths of Aksum, Blemy pottery, and the coins of the kings of Aksum”. [Astarte being the Greek word for Phoenician and Syrian ‘Ashtart, which was ‘Athtar in Arabia.] The Yemenites are the closest linguistic relatives to the Amhara, and since in southern Arabia Athtar was masculinized, I’m not sure that this was a goddess in Ethiopia. It’s possible, however; more to research on that.

More on Oromo, ethnicity, and religion: Ethiopian bloggers weigh in

The Oromo (“Galla”) are a large ethnic group in central and south Ethiopia. They speak a Cushitic language related to Somali, part of the much larger Afro-Asiatic family. They pushed up from southern Ethopia and became the majority population in central and southern Ethiopia. Most of them have converted to Islam or Christianity, although even they retain traces of their old religion, Waaqeffannaa. This means “belief in Waaq,” a supreme god, but they also have an important goddess, Atete, also known by the christianized name Marame. Oromo who adhere to the indigenous religion are now outnumbered by converts.

Oromo people are often referred to as “Galla,” but Ethiopian sources say that this name really designates indigenous religion. An Ethiopian blogger explains the distinctions: “Galla, like the terms Amara [Amhara] and Muslim refers to faith and not to race. Therefore, an Ethiopian is traditionally called Amara if he is a Christian, Muslim if he is of the Islamic faith, and Galla if he practices the traditional Oromo faith or is an animist.” [“Call Me By Name: A small talk with Debteraw, VIII” by Wolde Tewolde, alias Obo Arada Shawl]

In the Comments of the same Debteraw blog, Daniel adds (April 15, 2007): “To many of us who have grown up in the ‘Atete’ culture knew how the ‘Atete’ goddess cuts across ethnic lines. Those of us who still recount the ‘Atete’ ritual might not miss the mantra-like recounting of the ‘Gondare Sifa’.” [Not sure what this is, but I’m guessing that it’s a Christian litany, since Gondar was the imperial capital of the Amhara.]

Daniel sees “the ‘Marame’ goddess and the ‘Eme-Birhan’ i.e. ‘Mariam'” as belonging to a related cluster of Ethiopian folk goddesses (Mariam=Mary, so we see how the Ethiopian Goddess came to be linked with the Christian one). He also compares “the Amhara and Oromo peasant hut design and how they reflect female figurines,” and talks about “the matriarchal-paganism of the ‘Galla'” which was displaced by “the patrilineal androgenic God figure of the northerner.” [This is overstating the case, as you’ll see from my previous Note about an Oromo woman’s article on indigenous patriarchy and women’s resistance to it.] However, the Oromo religion does retain aspects of very old female potency. Numerous sources show Atete morphing into Mariam / Marame through Christian influence.

There’s a larger feminist issue here: patriarchal systems are commonly described as “egalitarian,” when in fact what is being described is a lack of class ranking / hierarchy. For example, look at this: “The Galla of Ethiopia are generally represented as an egalitarian people.” The author goes on to cite the Gada system, in which an all-male assembly elects its own leaders. That is the criterion for “egalitarian.” (See the next post for more perspective on male dominance in the Oromo family.) Further, class ranking has in fact intruded, as  monarchies supplanted the Gada councils over the past 200 years). [Herbert Lewis, “A Reconsideration of the Socio-Political System of the Western Galla.” Journal of Semitic Studies, Vol 9, 1964, p 139 (139-143)]

An Ethiopian evangelical scholar gives more detail about the Atete ceremonies, although the article comes from a Lutheran conceptual framework that treats the indigenous religions as demonic. [Amsalu Tadesse Geleta, “Demonization and Exorcism,” thesis at The Norwegian Lutheran School of Theology.] I’m going to quote from this essay in spite of the very negative Christian bias and stereotypical terms (“cult,” etc.), because it does offer some valuable information, even if we have to read through the bias:

“Atete is a fertility cult in honor of the spirit of motherhood in Oromo tradition. The cult is known as conversion zar among the Amharas of Ethiopia. There is a similarity of practices between Atete and Conversion Zar. The preparation is the same. The main difference is that the conversion zar is practiced among the Amharas whereas Atete is practiced among the Oromos. Atete is a non-violent female goddess mainly connected with fertility. Women who seek supernatural help to become pregnant and bear healthy children are the main adherents.

“The clients of this cult are women. A girl will take over or be possessed by her mother’s ayana (spirit). Her ayana normally possesses or visits her once or twice a year. She spends her day preparing things that are needed for the ceremony. She has to prepare herself wearing special clothes (often of the opposite sex), putting on beads and ornaments, perfumes and carrying a whip, steel bar or an empty gun. Green grass (reed from river side) is spread on the floor as a sign of ceremony or anniversary.

“Different types of foods like porridge, butter, lemons, dadhi (honey wine, yellow in color), farso (home made beer), and coffee is prepared before the ceremony starts. There might be some more sacrifice prescribed by ayana on its previous possession. So chicken, sheep or goat of certain color is offered as a sacrifice and perfumes or different spices are presented as an offer. If the spirit is pleased by the offerings and the preparation it occupies her. People know that she is possessed when she starts yawning, stretching the whole body here and there, salivating, and becoming drowsy. Her body wavers, and she also cries, speaks as if she is in dream alone. She often falls down and covers her face with her dress.

“She may jump and run away and climb trees, not coming down until people beg her. Others stand on glowing wood or eat embers. She may cut herself with a knife, or crush pieces of glass and eat them. She speaks in a strange voice, often using a language understood only by the zar themselves. She may sing a song reserved for the occasion, or dance a peculiar dance associated with a particular ceremony. She acts very differently from normal strength, voice, activity, etc. which signify that the spirit has possessed her.

“This possession may last from a few hours to two or three days. The main function of the gathered spectators throughout the ceremony is to appease the ayana, sing songs, clap, dance and beat a drum, and beg the spirit not to hurt her. [This last may again reflect the author’s Christian bias] Geleta goes on to say that “In contrast to Atete which is dominated by women, seer zar is man’s zar.”

So we see repeated several shamanic themes: special ritual dress in accord with the spirits, trance states, falling to the ground, covering the face, imperviousness to fire or blades, supernatural strength, spirit languages, special songs for certain spirits, and not least in this case, involvement of ancestral spirits inherited matrilineally. The climbing up into trees (or onto roofs) also occurs with new shamanic initiates in Zambia and other African countries.

Another interesting aspect of Geleta’s article is that it plainly states the equivalence of indigenous Oromo religion with Zar. We’ve already seen one author make the case for an Ethiopian origin for Zar, which is backed up by other experts, and here that idea receives further support from a hostile witness.

Two short mentions of Atete appear in Literatures in African Languages, ed. B.W. Andrzejewski et al, Cambridge University Press 2010.

J…lq…b… b…rsisa [characters won’t reproduce] an Oromo textbook published in 1894, contains legends, proverbs, and oral poems; “there are even some hymns to Atete, the goddess of fertility.” [B.W. Andrzejewski, “Written Literature in Oromo,” p 409]

“Atete, also called Maram [that is, after the Christian goddess Maryam or Mary] is the goddess of fertility worshipped in some regions of Ethiopia by the adherents of the traditional Oromo religion.” [B.W. Andrzejewski, “Oral Prose: the Time-Bound Stream,” p 415]

Other present-day testimony comes from web sites on Waaqeefannaa (indigenous Oromo religion):

“Based on the story of Irreechaa, the Oromo started celebrating Waaqayyoo beside Odaa tree, which was for the first time planted by Atete as a symbol of Ora-Omo (resurrection of Ora, who raised from death to celebrate the reconciliation with his murderer, with his brother Sete). [Here referring to Kemetic Ausar and Set] Since then, the other Cushitic nations also celebrate this event either under a tree (Odaa) or beside a statue of stone (like beside the Axum Obelisk) or beside a temporarily planted Demera as it’s now done almost all over Ethiopia. [This caught my interest because of the megalithic statues and standing stones in southern Ethiopia, and the symbolism of a plant or tree which recurs on many of them, which is repeated on female belly tattoos among some indigenous Ethiopian peoples.] Interesting is to observe this relation between Atete’s original plant as a symbol for the resurrection of Ora with the Oromo’s Odaa tree, lately replaced by the statue of Agew’s (Tegaru’s) Axum Obelisk, which is now further replaced by Demera, to be planted only temporarily during the transition time from a winter (darkness, unsuccessful, death) to a spring (a new start of light, a new start for success, a new start of life) every year. Knowingly or unknowingly, all Cush nations, including those who claim to be Semites (Tegaru, Amhara, Gurage, Harari, Argoba, etc), celebrate Irreechaa, which is the celebration of Ora’s resurrection. That is why Irreechaa is actually the holiday for all Cush nations, including those who deny their origins and try to identify themselves with Semetics (with David, with Solomon, with Arab, etc).

[from “Merry Irreechaa! Both ‘Land to the Tiller’ and ‘Self-Rule of Nations’ are Irreversible Victories” September 18, 2010  By Fayyis Oromia] (Videos of Irreechaa ceremonies can be found on Youtube.)

The same author assimilates Atete to Isis in other articles: http://www.voiceoforomia.com/99871.htmlhttp://www.gadaa.com/oduu/?p=79

© 2010 Max Dashu

]]>