Willie Ramos’ surrebuttal

Okú ishé, Mr. Carrazana.

I apologize for my delayed response to this email, but I lead a very complicated life given my numerous responsibilities. I am addressing your last email, which I replicate below, along with my answers.

Mr. Ramos,

I appreciate you taking the time to reply to my email. First, I did not claim that you questioned the validity of the ceremonies that took place at Ifatokun’s Ile; instead, I referenced Ernesto Pichardo as the guilty party in that respect. It is no secret that Pichardo maintains a prejudice against the indigenous Yoruba tradition. During an Orisa conference that took place in September of 2008 in Tallahassee, Florida, when asked about the differences between Lukumi and Indigenous Ifa, Pichardo replied “Africans do not have ‘ase’ anymore because it was lost in colonialism.” This of course, is a statement by a man who is a scholar, but yet never set foot on African soil to study the roots of Orisa tradition. His position is absurd and academically dishonest. Given what I said about Mr. Pichardo, it is no surprise that this weekend he came out in the local Channel 10 news in Miami using the ‘snail’ controversy as a springboard to launch his hidden agenda against our tradition. No one is asleep at the wheel. We all know this is not about ‘snails’; and nor is it a ‘public health’ issue as Pichardo disingenuously claims.

I am not sure of what may, or may not, have occurred and Pichardo’s statement at this time. I do know that Pichardo has always been open to share with other traditions. I am aware of his relationship with Oyotunji and other devotees of YTR and I have never gotten this impression that you are relating in your email. If I have come to know Pichardo correctly over a period of almost thirty years, Pichardo’s only agenda is the defense of Lukumí religion in the U.S., and in so doing, he unmistakably defends all Yoruba and Yoruba-derived traditions, for to defend one is to defend them all.

As far as the news report that you mention, I also doubt that Pichardo has that much clout. In fact, my experience with the media in the 1980s and 90s taught me that the media does and says what it wants and no one has any real influence with them; the only agenda they support is their own. It is doubtful that Pichardo manipulated anything. Nonetheless, I am neither Pichardo’s advisor nor his lawyer: we need to allow him to respond to this issue.

In the spirit of further dialogue, I would like to address some of the points you raised in your response to my rebuttal to your editorial. Consider this my surrebuttal.

You mentioned that “[t]he Lukumis sharing in the initiation were not invited to observe: they were active participants, as evident in the photos posted on the group’s website.” In my rebuttal to your editorial, I did say that Oloye Ifafunke invited Lukumi priests to observe and ‘participate’. No one is disputing the fact that Lukumi priests did participate; but their participation, however, was under the guidance and direct supervision of a fully trained Yoruba priestess.

This is fine. I too have invited priests and priestesses of Yoruba and Brazilian traditions into my igbodu. In fact, in the 1990s, I personally presented a Brazilian iyalorisha to the batá drums in Miami and ritually introduced her to an osha room—what we call entregar el cuarto—so she could function alongside the Lukumí. The same courtesy was extended to me in Brazil, as I was allowed to observe and participate in numerous rituals there on several occasions. Unfortunately, I have never been to Yorubaland, though I have plans of doing so in the not-too-distant future. I am quite sure that in Yorubaland, I will be extended the same courtesies as an olorisha of the Diaspora, a courtesy that has been extended to numerous Lukumís and Brazilian Candomblé olorishas that have already visited Africa. The point is that wherever we find ourselves, our ordination—our status as legitimate olorishas—is respected and not questioned to the point of requiring or suggesting reordination to Orisha.

You also assert that the active participation of a Lukumi Ifa priest in “the re-ordination of a Lukumi olorisha, … questions the validity of her first [Lukumi] ordination.” Your assertion is based in part on a disagreement relating to a controversial subject matter within the Lukumi tradition — i.e., whether a Babalawo can participate or initiate someone as an Olorisa. It appears that in your view, the person’s prior Lukumi initiation to Obatala is brought into question or invalidated because a Babalawo, who in this case is also initiated to Sango in Lukumi, participated in her initiation to Yemoja. I disagree because there is no theological principle based on odu ifa that prohibits a Babalawo to initiate someone as an Olorisa (“coronar Santo”). That being the case, I submit that the controversy regarding this issue within the Lukumi tradition is not a disagreement over theology, but instead, one over politics and economics. Its been that way for years.

No, in my initial editorial, I did not choose to touch upon the historical babalawo vs. oriaté debate that you mention. Clearly, though, in Lukumí and Brazilian tradition, the babalawo does not perform in the capacity of an olorisha in an ordination. Whether this is currently the practice in Yorubaland or not is of no issue to us. This is what our elders taught us and the tradition that was established in Cuba. Though originally there were no babalawos in Brazil, historians specializing on Candomblé and olorishas have often referred to the total absence of the babalawo in other than divinatory practices in the 19th century—the formative years for Lukumí and Candomblé. If this information is accurate, both history and oral tradition support the notion. If we find parallels in the Diaspora that are not observed in Africa, then there are serious issues at hand and clearly legitimate questions that must be raised about current Yoruba practices.

In addition, we need to keep in mind the numerous regional issues in Africa itself. I have spoken with many olorishas that have traveled there and visited various Yoruba towns and they report that like the Diaspora, there are numerous regional differences in practice there as well.

You continue to insist on the “disagreement . . . over politics and economics.” I beg to differ. This is a theological debate with cultural tinges. Politics and economics have little to do with anything we are discussing. The diffusion of YTRs is not damaging to us as a religious community and I believe that this applies to all Diasporan communities. It will not affect our tradition nor will it provoke any “economic” downfalls. I see this issue from a different angle. What I am seeing here is fractioning and division—and I am not referring solely to Mr. Stewart or his ilé, but rather to all followers of the different manifestations of Orisha in Africa and abroad. If each new group or ilé that arises attempts to establish its dominion by attempting to downplay or question the validity of the long-term traditions of the other, there are serious theological issues at hand here that will subsequently blow up into heated contentions and eschatological debates over supremacy and control.

Sadly, some people ordained in YTR suffer from a syndrome of arrogance akin to that which you claim to be the case of the Lukumí. The mere idea that they sought Africa as the place to be ordained somehow makes them better or more legitimate than the people ordained in the different traditions of the Diaspora. Others suffer from another common malady: the retribution syndrome. They feel that ordination in Africa is a way of striking back at the religion, particularly the Lukumí practices, as is the case of many people from the U.S., probably because they had some sort of conflict with their Lukumí elders and eventually decided to go to the “source.” Then they return to the U.S. as an olorisha—mind you, from Africa and Cuba too—and claim to be the ultimate source of ritual knowledge after spending two weeks in Africa (or Cuba) and returning for two or three weeks a year: some are fortunate enough to spend a month.

When they encounter resistance in the U.S., they quickly turn to the “agenda” accusation and project blame away from themselves, looking for a scapegoat to deviate the issue from the legitimate concerns that are raised by those that question them or their intentions. Now, this is definitely not what we are taught by Obara B’Ogbe and Obara mejí, is it? What about learning and the transmission of religious dogma and ritual knowledge? In two weeks? In one month? Ultimately, what this all boils down to is in total opposition to what our religion teaches us, and we are all guilty of this too. Olorishas are supposed to be the pinnacle of humility, but instead we have become something else, taking on the attire of the system that surrounds us. Orisha in the U.S. has become another of many quests for power instead of being a search for moral and religious development and advancement.

Another reason why I disagree with your conclusion is because the initiation that took place is a Yoruba style initiation to Yemoja, not a Lukumi initiation. One has nothing to do with the other. My prior email articulates why such is the case. Further, and in contrast to the Lukumi tradition, the controversy regarding the role of an Awo Orunmila in the ordination of an Olorisa is a non issue in YTR. A Babalawo can initiate a person as an Olorisa in YTR assuming the Awo has the proper training & knowledge; and such is the case even if the Awo is initiating a person to an Orisa the Awo is not personally initiated to. There are two odus of Ifa, i.e., Eji Ogbe and Ogbe Riikuu Sa (Ogbe Sa), that explains that an Awo Ifa can initiate someone to an Orisa other than Orunmila. I do not have the stanzas to recite at this time, but Ifatokun is in the process of obtaining the verses and translation from Nigeria.

As an historian, I recognize the importance of odu Ifá and mythology in our traditions. They are important in numerous ways, but they are not supported by primary materials that can confirm their veracity. As such, mythology does not (and cannot) always agree with history and historical facts. We are not the only religious tradition that confronts these issues, as is clearly attested by the numerous controversies over the judeo-Christian Bible and the Muslim Q’uran. If we want to discuss mythology, I can quote Lukumí odu that state that the babalawo does not perform in any capacity other than as ashogún in a Lukumí ordination (e.g. Odi’bara). Mythology is wonderful, but it is not necessarily factual. Once again, history and mythology quite often conflict. It is important to keep in mind that anyone can put together an ese or a patakí that, if allowed sufficient time, will be taken by the subsequent generations as religious dogma or truth.

I understand that you oppose what you and your supporters perceive as a conscience and deliberate disrespect of the Lukumi tradition. The problem, as you see it, is that a number of Lukumi adherents are beginning to cross boundaries and receive Yoruba traditional rituals and initiations; and are doing so because the information flowing from West Africa today is causing Lukumi adherents to question Lukumi theological beliefs and protocols.

I disagree. I think many Lukumís and Brazilians today are beginning to develop a wider understanding of the need for unity and identification as a universal religion. Some of us—and I am a perfect example of this—have historically attempted to bring about recognition of our traditions, one that recognizes our font, accepts our similarities and appreciates our differences. We are not questioning our protocols any more than Wande Abimbola and the Oni of Ife questioned their own back in the 1980s: We are looking for our commonalities. This was the major topic of the first World Orisha Tradition Conference held in Ilé Ifé in 1980. Does this make current Yoruba dogma and practices more valid then Lukumí or Candomblé dogma and practice? I would hope not.

In all due candor, I must call a spade a spade. You are right to the extent that people within the Lukumi tradition are questioning what they’ve been taught. While you and others see this as a ‘disrespect,’ others see it differently. Many in the diaspora are jumping at the opportunity to further their education and knowledge about Ifa/Orisa–and are questioning what they have been taught because of information we are getting from West Africa today; which for many years was unavailable to us.

Here I must also disagree. Information from Africa was not totally unavailable to us. Just read through some of the Ifá notebooks that were compiled in Cuba after the 1930s and you will undoubtedly recognize the presence of Samuel Johnson, James Johnson, Onadele Epega, Leo Frobenius, Bernard Maupoil, Herskovits, Bascom, Verger, and numerous other intellectuals that were researching Yoruba traditions during that era. While Brazilians kept continuous contact with Africa, the Cuban contact was limited—I will give you that much—but access to information was not. Fernando Ortiz and other Cuban intellectuals allowed access to their libraries to numerous olorishas during the era of the Republic.

While the information we had at that time was derived from secondary sources, and clearly not the people-to-people contact we see today, it was no less valuable.

Again, as I said in my earlier email, a great deal was lost in the diaspora; and for years questions went unanswered–or they could not be answered in a convincing and cogent manner quashing any and all doubts within the minds of many including myself. The unanswered questions, among other things, has contributed to the growing dissatisfaction of Orisa worshippers in the diaspora over the years. People don’t like it when they are told by their elders or ‘territorial’ god parents–when they themselves don’t have the answers nor the courage to admit it– “that this is the way things are done, so don’t’ question it; or this is the way we do it in our ile; or this is the way my padrino taught me blah blah blah.”

This is a valid point in some ways, but not in all. Let us begin by acknowledging that “a great deal was” also “lost” in Africa. Are we to deny the effects of colonialism, Islam, Christian zealots? I should hope not. The Lukumí “nangaré ó” ceremony, of indisputable Muslim origin, attests to the role of other religious traditions in Africa even before the era of slavery and the development of our traditions in the so-called New World. And let us not forget that “syncretism,” or the parallelism of African deities with Catholic saints was born in Kongo with the first conversion of an African kingdom to Catholicism in the XVth century. The Kongolese cult of Saint Anthony, in which an nganga claimed to be possessed by the spirit of Saint Anthony, was not born in the Diaspora.

At this point, I have to ask: have you visited Cuba? Were you able to meet and speak to some of the elders that introduced Lukumí religion to the U.S? Your portrayal of the ignorant “territorial godparents” is not necessarily accurate. Sadly, as is surely the Yoruba case, information is power. To a group of people that have nothing other than their religion—a sad but understandable repercussion of slavery—control of religious knowledge is a prime tool in maintaining a degree of power. In this sense, there are Lukumís—as I am sure that there are Yorubas that do so as well—that control the dissemination of knowledge because it may represent “loss of power.” Keep one thing in mind: this is a Lukumí legacy, handed down to us by our African forebears and not the creoles that followed.

On the other hand, it would be naïve to deny that those that guide their omorishas through superstition, intimidation and downright ignorance abound as well. However this is not a Lukumí exclusive. I have been around for too many years as an active oriaté. In my years I have dealt directly with Lukumís, olorishas from Oyotunji, Yoruba traditionalists, Candomblé, Macumba, Umbanda, Vodou, Trinidadian Orisha. Sadly, they all suffer from the same maladies that you are attributing to the Lukumí—ignorance, baseless impositions, and more than anything else, power trips. A perfect example of the nature of the beast is the email that was sent on the tail of your current email. Someone, I believe living in Europe, threatened me with witchcraft and suggested a “test of powers” because this individual obviously could not understand what we were discussing and took it totally out of context. Sadly, this is part of numerous dysfunctional elements that are common to all of us. This too is a Lukumí-Ketú-Yoruba legacy.

Yorubaland is the birth place of Ifa/Orisa tradition; it is our ‘Mecca’ regardless of what system you follow. It defies logic to ignore the information we have from Yorubaland today in order to perpetuate the continuance of superstitions and misconceptions that exist here. As I see it, your objection has more to do with what ordained priests within the Lukumi tradition are doing with this new information than what followers of YTR are doing. The Lukumi tradition is at a cross roads because of West African influence; there are those in the Lukumi tradition who are open to it and are embracing it, and those who are not. As an academic scholar such as yourself, I’m sure you can understand what is happening and why.

Well, not really. One, in terms of a religious “Mecca,” I must concur that Yorubaland gave birth to this tradition that disseminated to the Americas through the barbaric institution of slavery. To deny this fact would be absurd. Likewise, I will accept that there is much to be learned from Yorubaland. I do agree that there is much that we may learn from modern Yorubas, but this does not mean that Yorubaland will be the only contributor to the possible exchanges that may come about if and when we all decide to stop our contentions for power and get down to the important elements that concern us all as a people. How can we possibly ignore almost two hundred years of Diasporan tradition and practice? Are we to begin a process akin to the European “Reformation” in which we all choose what is beneficial to us and discard whatever is not convenient, or does not agree with our personal interests? I think Henry the XVIIIth made that mistake many years ago and we should not repeat it.

Along this line, are you going to tell the Diaspora—and let us keep in mind that at this point, the majority of Orisha devotees are in the Diaspora—that the only “Truth” is in Yorubaland and West Africa? If this is your position, then you have not discarded your Western lenses as far away as you thought because this is the position of Judeo-Christianity and Islam. Do not forget that they practically claim to own the “exclusive rights” to God.

To preserve the Lukumi legacy is an honorable endeavor, but there is a better way to do it than the course of action you propose. ‘Black balling’ the individuals who crossed the ‘picket line’ is not the answer. This approach will not work for the reasons I articulated in my prior email. Besides, the threat of ex-communication throughout history never worked for the Catholic Church; therefore, it would be foolish to think that the same tactic will work here.
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I do not consider myself to be “black balling” anyone. I, like you, simply “called a spade a spade.”

The last point I want to touch upon is your concern that “if we are to re-ordain everyone initiated in the Diaspora, or the Diaspora re-ordains people initiated in Africa or other regions of the Americas , then we have serious issues that do bring into question the validity of all our religious traditions.” You are assuming that a subsequent initiation casts doubt on a prior initiation. Your assumption is a faulty premise for the reasons stated in my prior email.

I guess here we can simply agree to disagree. If a person’s initiation is to be called into question, we have to know and understand the system or tradition in which the person was ordained before we can arrive at any conclusion that is logical and rational. While I do not intend to sound disrespectful and cast doubt on the Yeyé, I do question her level of understanding of Lukumí practices because she has not had sufficient exposure to the practices to have a clear understanding. Thus, in meaning to do something that she may have considered beneficial to the individual she was initiating, she simultaneously hurt the community that this person stemmed from, which saw her ceremony as a disrespectful affront to the Lukumí traditions.

Your assumption, moreover, is nothing more than a slippery slope argument. There will not be a mass exodus of individuals that will cross the line like the persons in this case did. Some will cross the line, but many will not. The only viable solution to your concern is “acceptance”; and to look at the situation from a more positive perspective. What is ironic, however, is that historicaly, reinitiations occurred in Cuba because the legitimacy of the ‘old African’ way of initiation was called into question in favor of the “alleged” royal Oyo centric Kari Ocha initiation we see today in the Lucumi tradition–which, by the way, we now know is a myth because it did not come from Oyo or any other region in Yorubaland. Needless to say, there was not a massive outcry or protest against the “reinitiations” that took place in Cuba. But now, many years later, the tables have been turned and there is protest. We are not surprised by the double standard.

I am quite sure that, as you say, there will not be any “mass exodus.” I am sure that only a few number of individuals from each faction, will “cross the line.” No issue here. The better question is “why” cross the line at all? If, as odu tells us, Olodumare gave human beings the gift of “choice,” then so be it. We each have a path to follow; one that our Ori and our decisions will eventually mold and guide. I support your idea of acceptance: I always have. Nevertheless, I also support the idea of equality. No system—Lukumi, Candomblé, YTR nor Trinidadian Orisha—should claim that they are superior to the other. None of our traditions should attempt to “stake claim to a territory” at the expense of the other. Here, we all need to learn from our Lukumí—Ketú—Yoruba forbears and coexist without offending the sensibilities of the other.

On the case of the Cuban “reinitiations” at the end of the XIXth and beginning of the XXth, I suggest you investigate a little more. It was not as “cut and dry” as you are making it out to be. The people that were “re-ordained,” were not olorishas with in the fullest sense of the word. They followed a different tradition, more akin to the popular religiosity that abounds in the Catholic world, but were not fully ordained—they were not adoshú. As far as the dominant tradition in Cuba is concerned, you are also going to have to do a little more research. This is not a myth by any means as there is plenty of oral history and ritual practice that will confirm this. There is also ample historical evidence to support the dominance of Oyo-Egbado-centric patterns of rituals in Cuba.

The only solution to the current state of affairs is that we must learn to accept our differences; and work with each other despite our differences. Indeed, there is no reason why a Lukumi Olorisa cannot participate in a Yoruba Olorisa initiation; and same goes vice versa. If we let you into “our” room, then you should extend the same courtesy because despite our differences, we are all initiated as omo Orisa. The example set forth by Ifafunke in permitting the Lukumi priests to participate and learn the Yoruba ceremony is the first step in the right direction. As I said in my last email, if the Yoruba can work together despite their regional differences, why can’t we do the same here?

I think I have already addressed this issue. In fact, Charles Stewart and another Yoruba babalawo entered an igbodu in which I was officiating as Obá Oriaté. I have no issues with any olorisha that can prove his or her religious status, so long as they respect my tradition, reflect on our similarities as I have done in Brazil, and recognize our status as olorishas in the same way that I recognize theirs.

I am not, however, holding my breath that both sides will come together to share drinks around a camp fire and sing “Kum Ba Yah,” in the near future.

A very old Oriaté that I respect tremendously has often told me that instead of beginning our osayín ritual with “ká má má iyá,” we should begin them singing “ká má má tijá tijá.” Sadly, tijá tijáseems to abound among all Orisha people. I too seriously doubt that we will be sitting around a campfire drinking emú or firewater. However, I would like to see a point in which we are at least not throwing each other into the campfire either. That day can come, but it takes time and dedication. The first thing we all need to work on is removing the chip from the shoulder.

I was recently reminded that we still have a long road to hoe because of a recent conversation I had a with an old Lukumi Oriate from Cuba who gave me the “old song & dance” that he respects my initiations in West Africa, but he won’t let me into his ‘cuarto santo’ because my initiation is ‘different.’ When I heard him say that, I thought of Ifafunke. I explained to the Oriate what Ifafunke did to ‘bridge the gap’–but it fell on deaf ears. You cannot teach an old dog new tricks. I submit that we will see meaningful changes — or shall I say an “attitude adjustment”– but in the generations to come where the prejudices of yesterday and today will be a thing of the past.

Sadly, this is a cultural problem. It is most definitely not a theological one. Sadly, there is little that can be done about this at this stage. We first need to develop mutual trust. I am quite sure that this person acted in the way that he understood was necessary to protect his religious legacy from the eyes of someone whose religious status he could not ascertain, for numerous reasons, one clearly being lack of knowledge. The major point in this particular type of controversy is confirmation of the person’s religious status. What systems are in place to assure us that a person claiming to be a priest is really ordained?

With today’s facility to travel, anyone can go to African and perform an ordination. They are also going to Cuba by the hundreds, Cubans and non-Cubans alike, including Americans. We can rest assured that there are legitimate and trustworthy people in each setting, but by that same token, we must acknowledge that there are also scam artists. When I first went to Brazil, I was interrogated as if I had committed a crime; I felt almost as if I was sitting under a blinding bright lamp with a secret service agent asking me questions. The iyalorisha I dealt with asked me numerous questions and carefully allowed me to speak and listened attentively, in a process that took at least an hour, before she was convinced that I was really ordained. This is by all means a sticky area and there is the need to develop a system by which we can verify someone’s status.

We need to have a meeting as you suggest. Ifatokun is in agreement as well. Please contact Ifatokun via email or telephonically so we can arrange it; or you can email me your number privately and I will immediately contact you to make it happen.

I believe Ifatokún is Charles Stewart, correct? Charles has my number and email. He and I have been on amicable terms for at least two years now and have shared on several occasions. In fact, I participated in a conference that he directed in 2009, when the Yeyé came to Miami. I subsequently visited his house with three of my omorishas, to pay respects to the Yeyé, which I had not been able to do properly at the conference. At that time I had the opportunity to meet her and speak with her for a while. As she was returning to Africa the following day, the rest of the evening was spent with Charles discussing some of these same issues we are debating now.

Albeit, if we are going to set up some sort of significant discussion between our traditions, we need to determine the people that must come to the negotiating table for this discussion. I continue to hear the voices of the Yoruba babalawos, but I seldom hear the voice of an Obatalá, Yemojá, Shangó—to mention a few—olorisha. The field would not be even if it is one in which Yoruba and YTR ordained Ifá priests speak for the Yoruba and YTR olorishas. In addition, there are Candomblé and Trinidadian olorishas in Miami as well. Are we to leave them out of what could possibly be a meeting of significance for all our people? I think we need to evaluate this proposed meeting so that it does not become another fiasco comparable to one patakí of Ejiogbe Odi.

Odaabo
Ifakolade Sangobunmi Obatalayemi

Onaré ó,
Obá Oriaté Willie Ramos, Ilarí Obá