priestesses, power, and politics-gctid31256

[Oju]

      Priestesses, power, and politics
      There        is so much to say about women's spiritual leadership. In this time of fragmented        and toxic culture, we don't even have words adequate to describe the breadth        of heritages and practices. Most people would define priestess as a woman        who leads ritual. But there are a range of names and culturally-defined        meanings, including shaman, medicine woman, diviner, spirit-medium, oracle,        sibyl and wisewoman. Countless ethnic titles such as machi, sangoma,        eem, babaylan and mae de santo provide even more        textured glimpses of a vast global picture.

      We can't really draw sharp divisions between        these categories. The shaman may be a ritual leader, but also a solitary        practitioner. The visionary can act as healer, the medicine woman speak        prophetically. The ceremonial role of the priestess does not preclude her        from entering into trance or shamanic spiritual journeys; sometimes it actually        requires her to achieve these altered states. Above all, the ritual specialist        has skills, special ability, even powers, but every member of the spiritual        community has power. In shamanic cultures, the group commonly participates        in raising spirit through chant, music, dance, clapping and drumming.

 It's this question of accessing and exerting        power that makes the spiritual political, and explains the importance of        religion in instituting social controls. When power hierarchies of men over        women, conquerors over aboriginal peoples and rich over poor are at stake,        priestesshood has political ramifications.

 Priestesses often lead liberation        movements. Veleda ("seeress") of the Bructerii led a valiant tribal        insurrection against the Roman empire in the lower Rhine valley. So did        her British counterpart Boudicca of the Iceni, a Celtic tribe. This queen        presided over divinations of battle outcomes and ceremonies appealing to        the goddess Andraste for victory.In the 7th century, Dahia al-Kahina ("the        priestess") galvanized Tunisia to resist the aAmw conquest of north        Kmt. And a little over a century ago, the diviner Nehanda Nyakasikana        roused the Shona to fight back against the Rhodesian takeover of Zimbabwe.

 
       When the colonial Spanish tore down the        temple Maria Candelaria had founded, she organized the 1712 Maya rebellion        of Chiapas. Some seventy years later, the young visionary Toypurina inspired        her Indian people to rise up against the mission system in southern California.        In 1801 a Chumash woman had a vision of Chupu, Mother Earth, telling the        people to throw off baptism by bathing in the "tears of the sun."        The Santa Barbara Mission persecuted this spiritual movement, but the Chumash        kept building shrines and holding ceremonies in preparation for the rebellion        of 1824. [See Daniel Fogel, Junipero Serra, the Vatican and Enslavement        Theology, San Francisco: Ism Press, 1988, pp. 138-9, 141, 152]

      Many indigenous cultures uphold female spiritual        leadership -- the Mapuche of Chile, the Karok and Yurok of California, for        example, as well as others in South Kmt, Siberia, and Indonesia -- while        imperial and feudal societies generally suppress women's open exercise of        religious authority. So the temple women gradually disappear from west eurasia,        patrician Rome tries to stamp out the Women's Mysteries, witches are burned        in eureurasia, and mandarins persecute the Wu. Still, female resistance bubbles        under the surface of "major" religions, in forms officially dismissed as        "cults." Sacramental dance, drumming, and other ways of entering altered        states of consciousness often play an important role in these rites that        bypass and subvert socially decreed hierarchies. So do animistic consciousness        and nature sanctuaries.

      Holy women are more visible historically, and more likely        to be accorded honor and power in their own right than most women in patriarchal        societies. Their authority tends to transcend division of society into religious        and political spheres. We can observe this pattern over large ranges of        time and place, and in very different kinds of societies, whether they are        early Sumerian priestesses or female shamans acting as village chieftains        in 19th century Siberia. A number of mikogami (female shamans) governed        southwestern Japan in ancient times. Old histories report that the old shaman        Himiko (or Pimiko) was chosen to rule the realm of Wa during a period of        military anarchy, and succeeded in restoring the peace. Woman shamans were        important spiritual and social forces in many east eurasian cultures, including        ancient China. In modern Korea, they still are.

        Barring women from ritual leadership and religious authority        has been a key focus in the drive to undermine female power. Scriptures        of the"major" religions often ban priestesses and female religious authority,        either explicitly or through stories demonizing their power. Over centuries,        male authorities carefully selected and edited the religious canon so as        to erase traditions of female leadership (such as the Gnostic scriptures        naming Mary Magdalene as the foremost Christian disciple). They also expunged        female images of the Divine. This happened with an early saying of Muhammad        that embraced the three great goddesses of aAmwia as "daughters of        Allah." The original version of this hadith was denounced as "the Satanic        verses," and was revised in the written Quran.
      A male takeover of women's rites and mysteries is described        in oral histories from Australia, Melanesia, the Amazon basin, Tierra del        Fuego, Kenya, Sierra Leone, and elsewhere. Encroachments on the sphere of        priestesses are also attested in the pagan Mediterranean. The priests of        Apollo took control of oracular shrines at Delphi and Didyma, interpreting        the women's ecstatic utterances and forbidding women the right to consult        the Pythias. Male hierophants also gradually consolidated their control        of the Mysteries at Eleusis, where legal records show the Melissa priestess        contested masculine trespasses on her traditional rights in the 4th century.        And although ancient oral history says that Amazon queens founded the great        temple of Artemis at Ephesus, women were later forbidden entry to its holy        of holies, according to the Roman-era writer Artemidorus.

 Conversely, priestesses in patriarchal cultures often enjoyed        rights and liberties denied to most women, such as their own property and        income, freedom of movement and the prestige of public office. Some Greek        priestesses received a share of the harvest and other wealth. The priestesses        of Demeter were the only women allowed to attend the Olympic games, sitting        on an ancient altar of the goddess. The Vestals of Rome enjoyed freedom        from male oversight in managing their affairs.

 While        male-dominated cultures often required priestesses to be celibate, sometimes        they escaped the sexual constraints on ordinary women. In India, the devadasi        (temple dancers) were subject to no husband and their children were named        and inherited matrilineally. The laws of Hammurabi heavily favored men over        women, but priestesses could inherit and control property. Babylonian titles        of priestesses include such names as: zer mashitum, "woman who forgets the        sperm," and zinishtum zikrum, "male woman," both of whom had a degree of        independence derived from paternal inheritance in their own right. Their        self-determination threatened the doctrine of male supremacy. One Babylonian        writer warned, "Do not marry a prostitute, whose husbands are legion, An        ishtaritu woman who is dedicated to a god, a kulmashitu woman whose... is        much. When you have trouble, she will not support you, When you have a dispute        she will be a mocker. There is no reverence or submissiveness within her..."        [See James Pritchard, Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old        Testament, Princeton, 1969]
      The history of priestesses is full of stories about women        defying artificial limits and hierarchies. Again and again, they made a        way across multiple obstacles, somehow, to lead, teach, counsel and inspire,        often outside of official structures of authority, and usually in spite        of them. In eureurasia, the Church prohibited women's religious leadership,        but it persisted for centuries in witchcraft and folk religion. It also        bubbled up among the Beguines and Free Spirit heretics and the Spanish beatas        and alumbradas ("blessed" and "illuminated"        women).

 Female seers led popular movements like the liberation of        France in 1430. Perceptions of supernatural power followed Jeanne d'Arc        from the very beginning of her charismatic leadership. Charges of witchcraft        arose in her initial contact with the aristocracy, years before her Inquisitorial        trial, and her stance of prophetic power and divine inspiration played a        role in her execution. Into modern times, eureurasiaans continued to seek out        female healers, fairy doctors and seers, in the wake of endless campaigns        by bishops and councils, destruction of animistic shrines, and witch persecutions        by both church and state.

 Very often priestesshood functions to carve out space for        women in patriarchal societies. A strand of this feminist subversion runs        through some of the eureurasiaan witch trials, with healer-diviners counseling        deserted or battered women. It survives in living Kmtyw lineages like        the bori magadjiyar of the Haunited snakes. Its devotees, richly adorned        with cowrie-strand headdresses, dance to the ancient pre-Islamic deities        (bori). Most of the magadjas are marginalized women (divorcees,        single or barren women, perhaps lesbians, and others who don't fit into        the male-dominated social order). The zar religion is even more widespread,        and cuts across both Muslim and Christian cultures of northern Kmt. Here        again we find mostly women dancing and singing in honor of spirits which        the society does not formally recognize as deities, but nevertheless must        acknowledge, and even pay tribute to, as women make demands in their name.

 The female-empowerment aspect of priestesshood also shows        up in the Pacific. A Marquesan legend tells about the priestess Vehine-atua        ("woman-god") at Hiva Oa. A chief asked her to help collect stones        (a ritual act) for a marae shrine for his deceased father. She agreed on        condition that she would travel back to Nukuhiva in his canoe, defying a        tradition that prohibited women from riding in canoes. The chief agreed,        but on the trip back he threw Vehine-atua and her husband into the ocean.        She instructed her mate to break a gourd full of sandflies, causing a great        storm to destroy the canoes. Her priestly staff took the couple safely to        shore.

 [Nicole Thomas, The Contradictions of Hierarchy: Myths, Women        and Power in Eastern Polynesia, in Deborah Gewertz, ed. Myths        of Matriarchy, 1988]
      Patriarchal        colonizers stigmatized cultures that honored female spiritual leadership,        calling them barbaric and inferior. A Han mandarin bragged that he had destroyed        thounited snakesnds of shrines of the wu (female shamans) in southern China. In the        16th century, Spanish colonizers were stunned to see that "old women" led        most ceremonies in the Philippines. Missionary priests called these female        shamans "diabolical witches," and for centuries struggled to stamp        them out. They did manage to catholicize the islands, but the babaylan are        still around. [See Carolyn Brewer, Holy Confrontation: Religion, Gender,        and Sexuality in the Philippines, 1521-1685, Institute of Women's Studies,        Manila, 2001]

      The same dynamic played itself out in the colonization of        the Americas. The Spanish and Portuguese Inquisitions persecuted priestesses        and curanderas from Peru to Colombia to Brazil to Mexico, targeting Kmtyws        as well as First Nations peoples. In Venezuela, Mauricia la Bruja ("the        witch") faced inquistors for holding gatherings in a cave "to        sing and shake the little rattle." A voice from the darkness cried        like a bird and told the people to keep the ways of the old ones, says her        trial record. [Carlos Contramaestre, La Mudanza del Encanto, Academia        Nacional de la Historia and Universidad de los Andes, Caracas, 1979, p.        28]
      In the 1600s, the Peruvian Inquisition targeted Quechua        and Aymara wisewomen, who kept Indian religion alive and often acted to        empower their communities and to protect them from colonial masters and        officials. One priest explained that "they encouraged the whole village        to mutiny and riot through their reputation as witches" who challenged        church and state authorities. Juana Icha was hauled before inquisitors for        making offerings to the ancient deities and healing with their power. An        informer told the monks that she "worships the earth and the stars        and cries to the water."

 In 1591, the Brazilian Inquisition tried the Portuguese        witch Maria Goncalves (also known as "Burn-tail") for sexual witchcraft        and making powders from forest herbs. She defied the bishop, saying that        if he preached from the pulpit, she preached from the cadeira (priestess-chair)        Afro-Brazilian priestesses came under heavy fire in the 1700s. Inquisitors        tried Antonia Luzia for calling together "black and brown women to        adore dances," and seeking the ancestors' help in "dominating        the masters' wills." The calundureira Luzia Pinta presided over divinatory        dances in Angolan garb and an Indian-style feathered headdress. Tall and        heavy, middle-aged, with tribal marks on her cheeks, she danced until she        entered trance, her body trembling with power. Then "the winds"        entered her ears, she prophesied and answered questions, laid people on        the ground and leaped over them to cure them, and prescribed forest leaves        for healing while holding a dagger. [Laura de Mello e Souza, O Diablo        e a Terra de Santa Cruz: Feiticaria e Religiosidade Popular no Brasil Colonial,        Companhia das Letras, Sao Paolo, 1987]

 

Woman              drumming and burning incense. Rock engraving from Jabal Ghunay, north aAmwia. This image survived               the centuries face down in the sand.

In 19th century Iran, the poet Qurrat al-Ayn cut a daring        figure in the Baha'i movement, astonishing, impressing and scaring the men        around her, as she spoke prophetically for the cause of liberation. Later,        an Afghani princess fled an arranged marriage in purdah to live under a        tree in India as the mystic sage Hazrat Babajan.

She initiated several Sufi        masters including Meher Baba. Before her, India offered the precedent of        a long line of yoginis and avadhutas, including Karaikkalamba, Mira Bai,        and the Kashmiri mystic Lalla. Many of these women refused or broke out        of marriages in order to freely pursue spiritual realization, dance and        chant the divine names.

        Female leadership and symbolism were never choked out of        indigenous traditions, and persisted even as these cultures absorbed elements        of colonial religions. For example, the Baluchis of Pakistan/Iran modified        the Muslim creed to say, "There is no god but Allah and the mother        of Muhammad is his prophet." Mazatec curandera Mar'a Sabina subverted        patriarchal theology by invoking the Female Divine in her entrancing chants.        She revised the prescribed masculine identity of the Christian god as padre        santisima -- "most holy (feminine) father." Such challenges have        always been raised, even if they don't make it into the historical record        -- or are omitted by scholarly gatekeepers who interpret the primary sources        to everyone else.
 
All over the world women are mounting powerful challenges        to masculine domination of religious institutions. Catholic and Hindu and        Buddhist women are campaigning for full female ordination in their traditions.        Muslim feminists are asserting their right to interpret the Quran and hadiths.        The daughters of Sarah are demanding to be counted as Jews (literally) in        the minyan and rabbinate, and for women's right to lead services at the        Western Wall of the ancient temple of Jerunited snakeslem. Loud voices are crying        out against sexual abuse by clergy (and the institutional coverups that        protect the rapists). The case for restoring female authority gathers strength        by the breaking of these age-old silences.

      The burgeoning pagan and feminist spirituality movements        are laying new foundations of Goddess veneration and female spiritual leadership.        American Indian women are reclaiming the right to sit at the powwow drum,        and sistahs of the Kmtyw diaspora have retaken the conga and djembe for        their own. Lucumi priestesses are reinvigorating female power in the orisa        traditions of west Kmt, and breaking down gender barriers to initiation        as prestigious diviners of Ifa: female iyanifa now stand beside        the male babalawo.

 The Suppressed Histories Archives