SPIRITUAL MARRONAGE, THE POWER OF LANGUAGE,

AND CREOLE GENESIS

Cándida González-López, University of Puerto Rico, Río Piedras

A people’s speech is their spirit and their spirit is their speech.

Wilhelm Von Humboldt

And the Word became flesh…

John 1: 14

We die. That may be the meaning of our life. But we do have

language. That may be the measure of our lives.”
Toni Morrison http://www.goodreads.com

After their violent uprooting from their homelands and brutal transportation to the
Caribbean and the Americas to become the enslaved work force of European colonial
powers, thousands of West and Central African men and women had to find ways to
survive physically and spiritually and recreate their lives in a new environment. Many
thousands devised means of resisting, opposing and even overturning the harsh, cruel
and inhumane conditions in which they found themselves. But what were the
linguistic consequences of such a catastrophic set of experiences? If languages reflect
environments and world views, in order to achieve this enormous task they had by
necessity to create a new language that would reflect their new reality. Thus, in
addition to being the product of a very special language contact situation, Creoles
exemplify in a unique way how we create and recreate the world with language.
At this point in history the colossal resistance that Africans both males and females
and their descendants mounted against their enslavement by European colonizers has
been thoroughly demonstrated, documented, and addressed from different
perspectives in a vast body of literature. This was a complex and multi-faceted
phenomenon which manifested itself in a multiplicity of forms, both covert and overt
by both violent and non-violent means. Together with revolts and rebellion the
phenomenon of marronage was one of the most radical and overt forms of resistance
to slavery in the Americas. According to Price in his classic Maroon societies, rebel
slave communities in the Americas, marronage is “[…] the living proof of the
existence of a slave consciousness that refused to be limited by the whites’ conception
or manipulation of it” (1979: 2).
In this paper I wish to expand the traditional concept of marronage to include what I
call spiritual marronage. I follow the Haitian scholar and mambo of Vodou, Dowoti
Désir who states.
Our institutions, the sosyetés (congregations) that make-up our kai’s (houses)
and hounfors (temples) became underground spaces of marronage, of
liberation and resistance that served as spaces of worship. But they also existed
to maintain the space of segregation that whites of European ancestry persisted
in emphasizing in their social, legal, architectural, and ritualistic existences.
Africans responded with subaltern spaces of lakou, cofradía, cabillo, and other
volunteer associations, providing social and economic support to Africans
throughout the Diaspora” (2006: 95) *Nota: Las comillas se quedan.

Thus I contend that the spiritual practices of enslaved Africans and their use of
language can be seen as forms of underground marronage as strong and effective as
overt marronage itself. I posit that the “slave consciousness that refused to be limited”
that Price refers to was also present in those who remained on the plantations and
manifested itself in the only way possible there: in a covert manner. This view will
assist in clarifying why linguistic practices such as special language use in present day
spiritual ceremonies were generalized practices not only in relatively isolated maroon
communities, but also among the enslaved and freed populations on the plantations
and in the towns. I further contend that all of these populations had a significant input
into the emergence of the creole languages and cultures of the Caribbean.
The enormous resistance that enslaved Africans and maroons mounted against slavery
was only possible because, in spite of the fact that they most probably arrived in the
New World naked or half naked and had to leave all of their material belongings
behind in Africa, they were not taken captive out of a cultural vacuum. They carried in
their consciousness, in their minds and in their hearts substantial cultural baggage,
consisting of agricultural and technological skills, political and military knowledge,
etc. In my view, however, the most important component of this intangible baggage
was included cosmologies, and spiritual practices, and the use of languages linked to
spirituality. As I see it, these spiritual knowledge, practices, and languages became
one of their most valuable possessions and instruments for resistance both for those
who managed to flee to freedom in grand maronnage and those who remained in the
plantations.
This spiritual heritage was so valuable, that in the case of the Haitian Revolution, it
was key to its success. With regards to the case of Jamaica, Alleyne states:
From the very inception of the slave society […] religion and rebellion became
associated in a symbiotic relationship. It is generally agreed, and the evidence
is quite compelling, that slaves from the Gold Coast area, the Akan people
known in Jamaica in the early period as Coromantees (with several other
 variant spellings), were the chief instigators of rebellion. The rebellion of 1769
was, according to Gardner (1873: p. 132), ‘led by Coromantees and was aided
by the mysterious terrors of Obeah’. Gardner adds (p. 133) that ‘the negroes
were greatly stimulated by their confidence in the powers of the Obeahman’,
among whom Tacky was the supreme Commander” (Alleyne, 1996: 83).

Not only had religion played a significant role in earlier slave revolts in St. Domingue,
the Haitian Revolution itself is said to have been initiated, by a religious ceremony
conducted by Boukman in 1791 According to Mintz in the “Introduction to Metraux
(1960: p. 10) as quoted in Alleyne, “voudou surely played a critical role in the
creation of a viable armed resistance by the slaves against the master classes” , (1996:
83). Referring to language more specifically, Roberts notes that “There is no question
that the dramatic events of the last years of the 18th century and the first years of the
19th in Saint Domingue could not have taken place without this language créole”
(2008: 259).

The power of these spiritual resources was recognized and feared by enslavers and
colonizers, who attempted to suppress them. According to Alleyne, in
Jamaica:“[V]ery early laws were passed banning the assembly of large numbers of
slaves on Sundays and holidays […]. This prohibition must have put an early end to
the open (but not the secret) celebration of religion by slaves, though after the arrival
of Christian missionaries in Jamaica slaves were able to celebrate their religion on the
guise of Christianity” (1996: 82). On the generalized religious practices of Africans in
Jamaica, Alleyne also asserts:
Africans adapting their native religions to the new context in Jamaica and
working a common set of beliefs and practices had a rich fund of similar
experiences on which to draw, for as we have seen religious syncretism was
commonplace in African society too. Local African religions were not averse to
accepting influences from other religions or to accepting other gods or
divinities into their pantheon, especially when these foreign gods seemed as
powerful as the local ones and had attributes that appealed to people meeting
them for the first time” (p. 87).

This religious “ecumenical” openness of Africans is also stressed by Désir:

While Africans of various origins would borrow traditions from one another
either as a result of buttressing geographies (i.e. living within close proximity
to one another or through acts of war), European enslavement fully set the
wheels in motion towards plurality, accelerating and further instantiating a
practice already in place. …. church doctrine and state policy bred resistance in
the Americas (p. 91).
As is well known, Africa is a very vast continent with a long history and many
different countries, traditions and languages. Thus, it is important to clarify that the
topics of African cosmology, spirituality and spiritual practices are broad and
complex. It is not the aim of this paper to go deep into the diverse and varied beliefs
and practices that captive African men and women brought with them to the
Caribbean and the rest of the Americas, but instead to address some fundamental
principles that are common to many of West and Central Africa’s cultures and
traditions, that are particular to West and Central African experience, and grounded in
West and central African culture and world view. In this paper and for the purpose of
my argument I will focus on a few important commonalities: the concept of
Spirit/spirits, the cult of ancestors, and the recognition of the power of language.
In the first place, it is important to stress that according to Aondofe Iyo (2006: 45) “in
the examination of the survival of African spirituality in the New World, one needs to
be cautious about the division between the secular and the sacred. Whereas this
division is prominent in Western culture and philosophy, it is nonexistent in African
thought and philosophy” (Wiredu, 1980; Andah, 1988). According to Mazama, what
is called African spirituality is a way of living, a philosophy of life, not a religion. It is
present at all moments and in all the aspects of life. It is not limited to a group of
rituals or activities you do at specific moments and in a particular place, such as a
temple, for example (2002: 219). In other words, the spiritual world, the Spirit, spirits
in their different conceptions and manifestations, the unseen, the super natural were an
everyday reality for the African men and women who arrived in the Americas during
the time of slavery. And it is to the spiritual realm and to these spiritual entities that
they appealed for support, and obtained the strength that would enable them to endure,
resist and abolish the ordeal of slavery.
In the second place, in many African spiritual traditions, there is no major
discontinuity between death and life. According to Mazama, both are perceived as
different modes of being. Life is infinite and knows no end, and therefore death is
simply another form of existence. “Within this context the limits between life and
death do not really exist. Life is born from death and death, in turn, is the prolongation
of life. The circle, which is the African spiritual symbol par excellence, takes on its
full meaning as it stands for the constant renewal of Life through death and birth (pp.
221-222).
Death is also a rite of passage that allows one to gain another existential status, that of
ancestor. Mazama observes that it is generally believed that the spirits of the ancestors
remain very interested in what happens in their families and communities. The
ancestors are “the guardians of the family affairs, traditions, ethics and activities” (p.
221). Being closer to God by virtue of their spiritual nature, they are in better position
to petition God on our behalf. But ancestors are not considered gods and they are not
worshipped. Instead, just as living elders are given great respect, the spirits of the
ancestors are remembered, revered and respected. The ancestors provide guidance;
“they will send us messages about how we operate in this life, in this world, if we
honor them” (p. 222). Due to this easy communication between the world of the living
and the world of the dead there is a belief in reincarnation, which is generally
believed to take place from generation to generation within the same family.
In addition to the ancestors, African spirituality recognizes many other spiritual
entities. There are spirits of divine origin which the Yoruba call orisha and Vodou
practitioners call lwa. Farris Thompson, defines them as: “the messengers and
embodiments of Ashe, spiritual command, the power-to-make things-happen, God’s
own enabling light rendered accessible to men and women” (1984: 5). Human beings
may be possessed by an orisha or lwa. To be possessed by an orisha or lwa is to
“make the god”, to capture the god’s numinous flowing force within one’s body (p. 9).
Within the realm of the living there are a variety of especially trained spiritual leaders
who through special medicines and communications with the spirits provide
protection and guidance. There are priests, whose roles vary between spiritual
traditions but for most of them their function is to officiate in ceremonies and rituals.
There are healers or traditional doctors. They are important in all African societies. It
is believed that good health is the result of appropriate behavior, which means living
in accordance to the values, norms of traditions of the society. Thus one of the
primary causes of illness comes from inappropriate behavior, which requires a
spiritual remedy. In most African spiritual traditions there are two kinds of healers:
herbalists, who use extracts from plants, fruits, berries, roots, leaves, and bark which
provide the basis for medicines, and spiritualists or diviners, who treat illnesses
through facilitating the direct intervention of the spiritual world.
Linked to these beliefs is the recognition of the power of the word itself to alter
reality, to summons spirits and to communicate with ancestors. According to Murphy:
Recovering the sense of ‘liturgy’ as ‘work’ and ‘service’ from the ancient
Mediterranean can help us understand something of the ceremonial spirituality
of diasporan religions. For diasporan liturgies are seen by their practitioners as
both works for the spirit and works of the spirit. The reciprocity between
community and spirit is expressed in physical work as the community works
through word [my emphasis], music and movement to make the spirit present.
The spirit in turn works through the physical work of the congregation, filling
human actions with its power (1994: 7).

Désir tells us that “Priests of Vodou must learn langaj, the language of Alada, the holy
city of ancient Dahomey-literally the language of our ancestors so that we recognize
the members of our covenant and have the capacity to call on Spirit. […] To call on
the lwa- to sing the songs of our ancestors, to recite prayers we need to be grounded
on our native Ayisiyan and the sacred language of Spirit. By learning the language of
Vodou we unlace the folds of history and reform identity” (p. 93).
Nommo is an African term which cultural theorist, Molefi Asante, calls “the
generative and productive power of the spoken word. It means the proper naming of a
thing which in turn gives it essence” (1998: 17). “Nommo is the power of the word
that activates all forces from their frozen state in a manner that establishes
concreteness of experience, be they glad or sad, work or play, pleasure or pain, in a
way that preserves [one’s] humanity….It [Nommo] is most often defined as the magic
power of the word […]. Nommo is the word and the delivery of the word. It is the
master of speech and speech, the word unknowable without its form.” (Harrison: xx)
Jahn defines this concept as the vital force that gave life to everything through the
power of the word. He writes,
There is nothing that there is not; whatever we have a name for, that is; so
speaks the wisdom of the Yoruba priests. The proverb signifies that the
naming, the enunciation produces what it names. Naming is an incantation, a
creative act. What we cannot conceive of is unreal; it does not exist. But every
human thought, once expressed, becomes reality. For the word holds the course
of things in train and changes and transforms them. And since the word has this
power, every word is an effective word, every word is binding (p. 133).

Nommo then is a very powerful and empowering concept in African cosmology. As

Rickford and Rickford put it in Spoken Soul on African American Vernacular English
(AAVE):
In the end, all words (and the rules for pronouncing and combining them) are
mighty. As the African concept of nommo asserts, spirits are conjured by the
saying of words. Ancestors are invoked by the speaking of words. If our
enemies can make us forget these words, and then make us forget that we have
forgotten, they will have robbed us of our ability to honor and summon our
ancestors, whom we so desperately need now more than ever” (p. 228).

The Atlantic slave trade (and more recently the new wave of migration of Africans to
Europe and North America) was accompanied by the transfer of these spiritual beliefs,
practices, and languages to new continents. All over the Caribbean and the rest of the
Americas, the enslaved population manifested the spiritual beliefs they brought from
Africa or inherited from their ancestors in various ways: Obeah, Salt, fly, Vodun,
Santería, Candomble, Kromanti, spirit possession, cult to the ancestors, etc. The major
role of spirituality, religion and spiritual practices in the resistance to slavery is
evident and undeniable, and language use, together with music and dance, was a
crucial part of it.
In this paper, I have highlighted some West and Central African spiritual beliefs,
practices, and languages to which enslaved Africans and African descended peoples
have had recourse in order to empower themselves and resist oppression. I have
especially stressed the recognition on the part of Africans and African descended
peoples on both sides of the Atlantic of the power of language and thus, the
importance of the use of language relation to spiritual power.
Cassidy and Le Page (1980: xli) characterize maroon settlements as centers of
resistance and linguistic conservatism, and Bilby (1983) remarks that the Jamaican
Maroon Spirit Language provides us with a special kind of entrée into the past (p. 62).
I affirm that such cultural and linguistic resistance was also present in the plantations
in the covert form of spiritual practices, a sort of spiritual marronage which included
dance, music, singing and special uses of language that have been preserved in today’s
African descended spiritual practices all over the Americas. I also affirm that we can
go through that entrée into the past, that we can tap into those living oral historical
documents coming from the creators of the creole languages themselves, to establish a
link between resistance to slavery and creole genesis. I contend that in research on
creole languages working with spirit or secret languages is crucial, and requires
investigators like myself and others go through these entrées. Perhaps it’s time to pay
more attention to the ideas expressed in the quote by Wilhelm Von Humboldt at the
beginning of this paper: “A people’s speech is their spirit and their spirit is their
speech” which the field of linguistics has long abandoned in favor of more “scientific”
explanations of language phenomena.

REFERENCES
Alleyne, Mervyn (1996, [1989]). Africa: roots of Jamaican culture. Chicago:
Research Associates School Times Publication.
Andah Bassey W. (1988). African Anthropology. Ibadan: Shaneson C.I. Ltd.
Aondofe Iyo, Joseph-Ernest (2006 ). Historiographical issues in the African Diaspora
experience in the New World: Re-examining the “Slave Culture” and “Creole
Culture” theses. In Jay B. Haviser & Kevin C. MacDonald (Eds.), African Re-
Genesis. New York: UCL Press.
Asante, Molefi K. (1998, [1987]). The Afrocentric idea. Philadelphia: Temple
University Press.
Bilby, Kenneth. M. (1983). How the “older heads” talk: a Jamaican maroon spirit
possession language and its relationship to the Creoles of Suriname and Sierra
Leone. Nieuwe West-Indische Gids, 57, 1/2, 37-88.
Cassidy, Federic G. & Robert B. Le Page (Eds.) (1967). A dictionary of Jamaican
English. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Desir, Dowoti (2006). Vodou: a sacred multidimensional, pluralistic space. Teaching,
Theology and Religion, 9, 2, 91-96.
Farris Thompson, Robert (1984, [1983]). Flash of the spirit: African and Afro-
American art and philosophy. New York: Vintage.
Harrison, Paul C. (1972). The drama of Nommo. New York: Grove Press.
Jahn, Janheinz. (1961). Muntu: the new African culture. (Trans. Marjorie Grene). New
York: Grove Press.
Mazama, Mambo A. (2002). Afrocentricity and African spirituality. Journal of Black
Studies, 33, 2, 218-233.
Mintz, Sidney W. & Richard Price (1981, [1976]). An anthropological approach to
the Afro-American past: a Caribbean perspective. Philadelphia: Institute for
the Study of Human Issues.
Murphy, Joseph M. (1994). Working the spirit: ceremonies of the African diaspora.
Boston: Beacon.
Price, Richard (1979, [1973]). Maroon societies: rebel slave communities in the
Americas. Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press.
Rickford, John R. & Russel J. Rickford (2000). Spoken soul, the story of black
English. New York: John Wiley & Sons.
Roberts, Peter A. (2008). Roots of Caribbean identity. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Von Humboldt. Wilhelm; Michael Losonsky (Ed.) (1999). On language, on the
diversity of human language construction and its influence on the mental
development of the human species. (Trans. Peter Heath). Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Wiredu, Kwasi (1980). Philosophy and an African culture. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.