Mysteries and Secrets of Voodoo, Santeria, and Obeah

by Lionel

  Fundamentalist and traditionalist Christians tend to favour the view that when something speaks through a channeller, it is an evil spirit that has taken control. Accordingly, those who hold this theory deplore any form of channelling.

  A third theory supports the view normally held by spiritualists that the channeller really is in contact with the immortal souls of human beings who once trod the earth. There is, therefore, nothing wrong with the practice at all, and if it brings comfort and consolation to the bereaved, it is positive and benign.

  A fourth theory suggests that channellers are picking up messages from extraterrestrial intelligences, and during some research many years ago, the authors were present at a seance during which the channeller purported to give messages from such a being that called itself Sivas.

  Other theories include the idea that the messages are coming from paranormal entities inhabiting other probability tracks, other dimensions, or other times. Subscribers to the hypothesis that all life is both intelligent and sentient — including the simplest plants and animals — have suggested that channellers may be passing on messages from flora or fauna.

  Santerian ceremonies may also include bird and animal sacrifices that are intended as gifts, or thank-offerings, to the Orishas. It is part of a religious tradition that goes back for millennia, and it has to be acknowledged that these sacrificial offerings are killed swiftly and humanely, and then eaten.

  All the Santerian ceremonies are led by priests and priestesses who exercise great power and influence over the worshipping community. In the next two chapters, their roles will be examined and analyzed.

  Chapter 10

  THE POWERS OF THE PRIEST

  What is power? Although it’s an everyday concept, it is not an easy one to describe or define. At its simplest and most basic, power can be defined as the ability to achieve what the power wielder desires. What power achieves for the person possessing it provides a scale of units against which relative degrees of power can be measured. From that starting point, it is possible to analyze and categorize the various forms and types of power.

  First, there is emotional power: the strength of will and the degree of determination that an entity possesses. The famous historical example of King Bruce and the spider provides a clear case of determination changing the course of history. The depressed and defeated king watched a spider trying repeatedly to attach a strand of gossamer to the damp wall of the cave in which Bruce himself was hiding from his triumphant enemies. Again and again the spider failed — but it steadfastly refused to give in. Finally, it succeeded. Taking the spider’s determination as his example, Bruce tried again — and won a kingdom. A more recent case from August 2007 tells how the Meng brothers, Chinese miners, dug their way through sixty feet of coal and rock to escape from a collapsed shaft. Pure willpower and determination drove them on and made the difference between death and survival.

  Just as muscular strength and stamina can be improved by training in the gym, or by years of hard physical work, such as the Meng brothers had experienced as coal miners, so emotional strength and stamina, willpower and determination, can be improved by training the mind. Part of the mysterious power possessed by Santerian priests is the mental ability to go on going on against every setback and every disappointment. Their emotional reservoirs brim over with a mental power that disowns defeat. Their ancestors survived slavery and finally regained freedom. For them, failure was not an option. If the priest’s ritual does not work the first time, he repeats it. If the charm, spell, incantation, or mysterious Santerian healing process does not function immediately, the healer-priest goes on trying.

  In addition to emotional power, the priest possesses considerable cognitive power. In the ancient, pre-literate days of the complex Yoruba religions, there was so much to remember and to absorb as aspects of the oral tradition. Just as Druids among the ancient Celtic peoples committed vast amounts of knowledge to memory, so did the ancient African practitioners of what was eventually to grow into Santeria and the other mysterious syncretized religions. Their priests and leaders had to think sequentially, to work things out logically, to rationalize beliefs and the ways in which their beliefs fitted into the observed fabric of the world around them.

  Ancient priests in action.

  These emotive and cognitive powers of the priests’ minds are distinct from another form of mental power that can best be described as religious charisma, a type of power that is shared by many Santerian leaders. Charisma is another quality, like power itself, that is extremely difficult to define and describe. We recognize it when we meet it, but it is far from easy to say what it is and how it works. It is an intoxicating mixture of attractiveness, style, transparent qualities of leadership, and an ability to inspire trust. The charismatic personality radiates confidence and convinces those who encounter it that the confidence is not misplaced. It is possible that the charismatic power of a Santerian priest is an exciting and stimulating form of mental energy, powerful vibes, or neurological radiation. Serious scientific researchers into brain function might find that whatever force radiates from a charismatic mind, it could be measurable given the right instruments and location.

  In Santeria, Voodoo, Macumba, and the other syncretized religions, absolute and infinite power belongs exclusively to Olurun, the name by which the One Supreme God of the universe is recognized. The name of Olurun may vary from language to language and from one syncretized religion to another, but by whatever name Olurun is known, Olurun represents infinite and absolute power.

  Another way to calibrate power is to ask what an entity cannot do. There is nothing that Olurun cannot do.

  Below Olurun in the relative power scales come a great many Orishas. Each of them can exercise power to a greater or lesser extent, but they are normally restricted to their own particular areas: sex and fertility, harvest, hunting, warfare, divination, prosperity, and love.

  Priests and priestesses come below the Orishas.

  Next in line after the lowest of the priest and priestess ranks are the spirits of dead ancestors. Their powers are far smaller than the powers of the Orishas — and they are to a great extent dependent upon the priests and priestesses who can summon or dismiss them — yet these ancestral spirits still exceed the powers of normal Santerian worshippers, ordinary men and women: mortal, terrestrial human beings.

  Priests and priestesses in the Santerian religion are known as santeros (male) and santera (female). They may also be styled omoOrisha — a Yoruba name meaning “children of an Orisha.” There is a widely recognized hierarchy of priests and priestesses containing eleven or twelve grades. High priests of senior status are known as Babalawos. They carry out the sacrifices that take place during initiation ceremonies and they are called in to resolve arguments among ordinary worshippers or priests and priestesses of lower ranks.

  Where does the Santerian priest’s power come from? To believers in Santeria, the priest is able to call upon one or more of the Orishas to help a worshipper — or another priest — with a particular problem that falls within that Orisha’s domain. The priest is also seen as having the power to offer prayers and sacrifices on a worshipper’s behalf in order to persuade the relevant Orisha to help the worshipper overcome a problem or difficulty.

  Santerian priestly power also stems from their expert knowledge of spells, charms, and talismans — and their access to them. Santeria and most of the other syncretistic religions are largely ethical, moral, and benign — but there is also a dark side to them, just as the Holy Inquisition’s torture chambers and burnings at the stake were the dark side of Christianity. A tiny minority of practitioners desert the high moral principles of genuine Santeria and the other ethical, syncretistic religions and use their powers to do horrendous harm. One such example was the notorious Adolfo Constanzo (1962–1989), who was a leader of Palo Mayombe in Mexico, where he was known as “The Godfather of Matamoros.”

  Palo Mayombe, another of the syncretistic religions, is a mixt
ure of ancient African beliefs from the Congo and from the Yoruba peoples welded to elements of Catholicism. The name comes from the Spanish term palo, meaning a piece of wood, a branch, a pole, or a stake. Practitioners, known as paleros or mayomberos, use wooden rods or wands to perform their enchantments.

  Adolfo was born in Miami, where his fifteen-year-old Cuban immigrant mother, Delia Aurora Gonzalez del Valle, was already widowed. Delia soon married again and the new family moved away. While living in San Juan, Puerto Rico, young Adolfo was baptized as a Roman Catholic and grew up to serve as an altar boy. Delia, however, was a dedicated follower of Palo Mayombe — and this exerted a powerful influence over her young son.

  The family went back to Miami in 1972, where Adolfo’s stepfather died, leaving Delia well provided for. She married for a third time, but her new husband was involved in drug dealing and strange pseudo-occult practices. Adolfo and his Delia were drawn into petty crime — mainly theft and shoplifting — and were arrested more than once.

  Shortly before the assassination attempt on President Ronald Reagan in 1981, Adolfo claimed that he had psychic abilities and had predicted the attack. Round about this period, Adolfo met a Haitian priest, a leader of Palo Mayombe, in which his mother was immersed. As far as can be ascertained, it was this priest who encouraged Adolfo to become a drug dealer, a confidence trickster, and worse. The priest’s motto seems to have been “Follow evil and profit from it.” It appears, from such evidence as is available, that the Palo Mayombe Orisha known as Kadiempembe, or Lukankasi, was thought of in some Palo cults as being the equivalent of the devil, Satan, or Lucifer, and it was to Kadiempembe that Adolfo was dedicated and committed.

  It seems to have been Adolfo’s visit to Mexico City in 1983, followed by his moving there full time in 1984, that turned him from being a criminal into something little short of a monster. He became a combination of cult-supremo, drug dealer, and priest-in-charge of expensive occult ceremonies. He and his cult members abducted victims for use as human sacrifices. They also systematically murdered rival drug dealers. It was part of their belief system that the sacrifice had to die with a maximum of pain in order to optimize the effectiveness of their magic. It is impossible to be certain about the number of victims who suffered at their hands, but there were at least dozens.

  A young American tourist, Mark Kilroy, a student at the University of Texas, vanished while on holiday in Matamoros, and the Texan authorities from over the border used their very considerable weight and influence to ensure that the search for him was given top priority. The Mexican police swooped on the cult, discovered that they were responsible for Mark’s murder, and closed in on Adolfo’s hiding place on May 6, 1989. Rather than face arrest, Adolfo ordered one of his followers to shoot him, and he was dead when the police broke in. So deeply engrained were the cult’s beliefs that one of them told the police, “Adolfo will not be dead long!”

  Sara Maria Aldrete, his most powerful lieutenant in the movement, was later arrested and sentenced to serve more than sixty years in prison.

  Power, then, as displayed by the priest of Santeria or any similar syncretized mystery religion, may be something innate. Certain genetic predispositions are likely to make a human being powerful. The environment and the belief systems within it can also help to create a powerful person. During the course of our lives, we learn from experience what the nature of personal power is and how to acquire it and exercise it. The power of the Santerian priest comes from these two sources: his genetic potential and the environmental, cultural belief system in which he has been raised.

  The powers of the mysterious Orishas — if they really exist — must also be considered fairly and impartially. The Santerian priest who believes absolutely that the paranormal powers of the Orishas are inspiring, sustaining, and empowering him to heal and to perform magic and miracles may simply be enabling his own mind-power to do very remarkable things. If, however, the Orishas are real (whatever the elusive nature of reality may eventually turn out to be) then the Santerian priest’s strange and mysterious powers may actually come from them.

  This theory tends to be borne out by the African word hourogun, which stands for the elemental force — the Loa or Orisha — that believers think is the mysterious power that animates a hurricane. Given those beliefs as a premise, it is perfectly logical for the Santerian or Voodoo priests to attempt to redirect the hurricane by appealing to its controlling entity, an Orisha or a Loa.

  How far have these traditions concerning Orishas, Loas, and their powers over nature travelled in the remote past?

  There are traditions in Africa that credit Mechi, described as the African emperor of Mexico in 3100 BC, with establishing a kingdom there that incorporated the ancient African religious beliefs concerning Loas and Orishas. It is part of this same tradition that shamans from Africa were in Mexico nearly three thousand years ago, and that they carried the worship of Shango with them. If there is any historical basis to this tradition — and there may well be — it would indicate that the worship of the Orishas or Loas, and appeals to them to protect their people from hurricanes, was known in Mexico millennia before the Yoruba slaves arrived and established Santeria as a syncretism of Catholicism and Yoruban beliefs in the Loas and Orishas. Supporters of this tradition argue that the west coasts of Africa are relatively hurricane-free today because of the priests’ successful appeals to the relevant Loas and Orishas.

  The Santerian priest’s power may then be thought to extend into the realms of weather control. Meteorologists will naturally find themselves at variance with this theory, but will, nevertheless, be among the first to accept that even when using the finest instruments and the most modern satellite weather technology, forecasts are never as accurate as might be wished, and the weather habitually springs one capricious surprise after another.

  The theory that Loas or Orishas are able to take over the priest and work through him, or that dead ancestors of the worshippers can work through him, and be the source of his power finds a strange parallel in the life and work of the mysterious Francisco Candido Xavier (1910–2002). Popularly known as Chico Xavier, he was loved and admired by millions in Brazil as a great philanthropist, a remarkably perceptive and sensitive psychic medium, and the author of more than four hundred books — all written by psychography, the enigmatic process by which a gifted medium’s hands do the actual writing that appears to come from external, psychic sources. Just as Santerian and Voodoo priests are possessed, or “ridden,” by their Loas and Orishas, so Chico Xavier firmly believed that his spirit guide, Emmanuel, had once been the Roman Senator Publius Lentulus, was later reincarnated as Father Damian, and later still as a professor at a French university.

  Chico always insisted that none of the many abilities he displayed throughout his long life were his: he regarded himself as a mere channel for the wisdom and creativity of the spirits whose writings came through him. The works that he created by psychography included some exceptionally good poetry and very advanced texts that seemed a long way beyond Chico’s own educational level. He seems to present a definite example of spirit possession — and if departed writers and poets or other psychic forces could work through Chico, is it not equally possible that Orishas and Loas could work through their priests?

  Another possible source of abnormal psychic energy is the theory of group mind power. When a number of people together have shared views and aspirations, can their combined mental power achieve things that a single individual — however intelligent and forceful — cannot do alone? Science fiction has often dealt imaginatively with the concept of a group mind, or hive mind, but is there more to the group mind hypothesis than ingenious fiction?

  If mind, as dualists posit, is independent of the physical brain, is there some strange mechanism that brings individual minds together into a unity that is much greater than the sum of its parts? If gravity can bring tiny specks of cosmic dust together into a unity that becomes a blazing star, or a planet capable of sustainin
g life in its multitudinous forms, what can individual human minds achieve when they coalesce into group minds? Does the power of the Santerian priest consist partly of an ability to act as the cohesive force bonding the minds of the worshippers together into an entity that is able to achieve miracles of magic and healing?

  Hive mind.

  In considering the power of the Santerian priest in connection with group mind theory, it may be suggested that classical European Wicca recognized the importance of the coven — often, but not invariably, thirteen in number. (European Wicca is the name given to the old nature religions and pagan religions that flourished in Europe prior to the arrival of Christianity and Islam. It still has followers today.) Working within such a group, as components of the group, individual members were apparently able to perform their magic more effectively than if they had been working alone. Yet it may be asked if there was rather more to it than that. Did the coven itself have some sort of pluralistic entity, some kind of communal self-awareness, greater than, and different from, the self-awareness, aims, and ambitions of any one individual member?

  Various interesting theories concerning telepathy may, perhaps, shed light on the group mind phenomenon. Scientific neurologist Andrija Puharich conducted fascinating experiments in extrasensory perception in his laboratory in Maine in the U.S.A. He investigated telepathic reception and transmission and researched the effects of hallucinogenic mushrooms on both processes. He also looked into telepathic networks and the ability of some individuals to serve as unconscious relays during this process. His epoch-making conclusions are recorded in depth in Beyond Telepathy (1974). Puharich’s findings may suggest an additional explanation for part of the power exercised by Santerian priests. If some part of Santerian achievement is due to the function of group mind phenomenon, then the power of the priest in certain cases may be due to his ability to function as what Puharich refers to as a telepathic relay. If the worshippers’ thoughts are channelled through the presiding Santerian priest in something akin to Puharich’s telepathic relay theory, then this could well be one of the sources of the priest’s power.