Igi
kan ki sígbo: One tree cannot make
a forest
- Nigerian proverb (ix)
The themes presented in Robert Farris
Thompson's Flash of the Spirit revolve around the transmission of cultural
traditions, via the Middle Passage of the African Diaspora, from Western Africa
to the Americas. What is striking about these varied and multifaceted aspects
of African culture is their core morality. It is a philosophy built on the interaction
of the individual, not only with the environment in which they reside, and with
other members of that community, but more importantly, with the archetypal creative
spirits of the cosmos. This philosophy informs us as to how they view their
own spiritual countenance in regard to their presence here, as well as their
role in an afterlife. Much of what was lost to European culture, in the conversion
to Christianity and the rush to annihilate indigenous expressions of similar
connected and conscious traditions can be recovered, or reinterpreted with respect
to this intact and inspiring metaphysics.
The Yoruba contribute greatly to this philosophy. The Orisha, the goddesses
and gods, are a primary form of creativity in Yoruban culture. Ŕshe is
at the heart of those powers ability to make things happen, for, "it is divine
force incarnate" (7). In addition to being intimately linked to the powers,
which divine and mortal alike, call upon to manifest will, it is connected with
the generative act itself, creativity at its most sublime (6). It also takes
part in the essential element by which humans interact with each other, iwa
or character. Iwa is important not only in regard to the way in which
people interact; it is also highly relevant to the way one approaches the divine.
In the same way that iwa pele, or "gentle generosity of character" is
how one acts and reacts towards others. Acts of respect or sacrifice to the
Orisha are likewise done with the generosity of both hands; obeisance is done
prostate (11). This marks a startling contrast to European customs where one
genuflects on a single knee and offers of service are made with one hand. Itutu,
or "mystic coolness", is an expression of this same gentle generosity one shows
to others (12). It is reflected in the 'coolness' one shows in the face of animosity
or conflict with another person, or is manifested in the simple act of passing
a stranger. All of these combined, determine the "Yoruba belief that the highest
form of morality is sharing and generosity - the strongest talisman to hold
against jealousy" (22).
From the Bakongo peoples we have in the Tendwa Nzá Kongo a map of life
and death, the world of the living and of the dead (108-09). Where we would
in the Western tradition regard death as the end of corporeal existence and
the beginning of an eternal spiritual existence, the 'cosmogram' is based on
an ancient and venerable observation of continuity. Much like the agricultural
round or cycle of seasons, the Tendwa Nzá Kongo speaks as much to the
spring and summer of life as it does to the fall and winter of death - the ebb
and flow of light and darkness. This is not only evident in the daily life of
a person's physical existence, but also in an individual's cycles of transformation
through birth, life, death, and spiritual rebirth. This balanced and enlightened
ideogram informs their relation to death and the spiritual world, establishing
once again a moral relationship between not only humanity and the cosmos, but
likewise the spirits of those who have gone before with those present, and those
yet to come. For some spirits of the deceased, ancestor worship is even a potentiality;
perhaps dependent on character and coolness, one could become a bisimbi,
or "the highest class of the dead." They are "immortal beings who, because of
their good works, are believed to be blessed with the power to resist the organic
process" (107).
What is important to remember in discussing these African traditions is that
the cultures have maintained contact between the two worlds, the world of the
living and the world of the spirits. Nothing so vividly expresses that 'boundary
crossing' as the flags of Haitian Vodun. These flags are displayed at the beginning
of the ceremonies to designate the arrival of the deities. What is a priori
about them is that the flags "meaning can be summed up in one word: respect!"
(184). It is a respect for the presence of the goddesses and gods in the ceremonies
for only through the descent of their ŕshe can possession of the initiate and
participant be possible. This same concept is mirrored in the way a Hatian announces
his presence at another's gate, before crossing the threshold. "Hono!
(Honor)" they call, and unless the response "Respé! (Respect)" is answered,
they are bound to not enter (184).
Mandean cloth, with its multi-strip construction and staggered off-pattern design
suggests at once, singularity and agency in consort; the visual syncopation
recalls the two worlds of the living and the dead and their interaction as a
cohesive whole. This theme is mirrored in visual counterpoint by their architectural
style. The structure of their habitations, individual 'cone-on-cylinders' within
an enclosure or compound is "a representation of the individual within his or
her social universe" (204). The definitions for the word lu, both the
lineage of a person, and this circular compound they live in, underscore this
integration of individual and comm-unity (204). This idea of the individual,
and the combined action of the group in regard to survival, is a reflection
of the proverb, which titles this paper. Within the circle of life, no individual
stands alone, before, after, and about them, are the spirits and physical presences,
which are intimately tied with that person's place in time and space. "The double
play of Mande influences, individuality and self-protection - suggested
by the rhythmized, pattern-breaking textile modes, and the group affiliation
mediated by communal rounds of cone-on-cylinder houses - completes a history
of resistance to the closures of the Western technocratic way" (222; italics
in the original).
One of the most impressive cultural representations in the text is the Nkim
of the Ejagham. It is a place where women's societies, like their fraternal
counterparts the Ngbe, transmitted the vital aspects of their cultural traditions.
It stands in stark contrast to the tendency in some African cultures today,
tainted by their contact with patriarchal monotheism, who treat the feminine
as chattel, or worse yet scar them for the sake of a 'initiation' or sacred
ceremony marking transition and sometimes murder them for sexual 'offences'.
Similar to the Yoruban ideal of coolness in regard to interpersonal and intertribal
relations, is the phrase, suk ibuut no enye, which translates to "cool
one's head in relation to a person" (231). This similarity with the Yoruban
iwa, and itutu, is also seen in the way generosity and honorific
giving are essential elements in the way the people relate to one another and
the way they see their interaction with the spiritual world of the ancestors
and the Orisha (231-32).
The contributions and corollaries of all these African cultures, when taken
in context to their migration to the Americas, is a fait accompli that
stands as a monumental achievement to the social cohesion of these cultures.
It represents a drastic counterpoint to the words often used to describe Africa
and African cultures as primitive, savage, and wholly lacking in civilized behavior.
Few Western cultures can claim a moral universe as cohesive, balanced, and community
oriented, or one that establishes so effective a relation between the physical
and spiritual worlds. There is a vibrancy and vitality that is wholly lacking
in much of what passes for religious observation in the West. These themes offer
a treasure trove of important relational ideals, which insure the communication
of a cultural heritage across the gulf of time and space that is one of the
gems of human achievement.