Core W7 Ranger TakingHoldLand 1987
Core W7 Ranger TakingHoldLand 1987
Core W7 Ranger TakingHoldLand 1987
REFERENCES
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access to Past & Present
* The research on which this article is based was supported by grants from the
University of Manchester and the Social Science Research Council. Earlier versions
were given to seminars at the University of Manchester and the University of Chicago
and I am grateful for the comments of colleagues which influenced revision of the
article.
1 Daniel Corkery, The Hidden Ireland: A Study of Gaelic Munster in the Eighteenth
Century (Dublin, 1924), pp. 64-6.
2 B. M. Stafford, Voyage into Substance: Art, Science and the Illustrated Travel
Account, 1760-1840 (Cambridge, Mass., 1984).
came to occupy these "farms", they gave them names drawn from
their own places of origin or illustrative of their own experiences and
hopes. In Makoni district in eastern Zimbabwe, for example, there
were by 1910 farms whose names invoked the English countryside
Bideford, Cheshire, Yorkshire, Lovedale; farms whose names con-
jured up scenes in Scotland or Ireland - Bannockburn, Carlow,
Erin, Emerald, Glen Spey, Rathcline, Mayo; others embodying hopes
of new towns arising in the Rhodesian bush - London, Liverpool,
or less ambitiously Woolwich and Maidstone. Some non-European
names were drawn from other colonial contexts in which whites had
"created" history, like Good Hope or Minnehaha. Some apparently
"native" names dissolved on examination into settler jokes, like
Meikle Brothers' farm, Notgotimyet.5 The boundaries of these farms
cut Africans off from many of their holy places or severed their
pilgrimage routes. Yet there were some whites who sought to under-
stand the African sense of historical geography, even if only for the
purpose of expropriating it. One of these was the colony's founder,
Cecil Rhodes, who laid it down that he should be buried in the
Matopo hills, south of Bulawayo, so that he might become the tutelary
deity of the land. A Rhodesian chronicler tells us that the royal
founder of the Ndebele nation, Mzilikazi:
was buried sixteen miles to the east of where Rhodes lies today, up in the highest
point of the Matopos. It was from this, and from the interest he always took in the
tombs of the Pharaohs, that Rhodes conceived the idea of being buried in these
mountains - the successor of Mzilikazi, the Lion of the North.6
As a proof that I know the white man and the Matabele will be brothers and friends
for ever, I leave my brother's grave in your hands. I charge you to hand down this
5 National Archives, Harare (hereafter N.A.), file L 2/3/45, Acting Director of Land
Settlement to District Commissioner, Rusape, 13 Jan., 4 Oct. 1910.
6 Nancy Rouillard, Matabele Thompson (South Africa, 1953), p. 56.
7 Rhodes's funeral is described in R. Tredgold (ed.), The Matopos (Salisbury, 1956),
p. 15. The centenary pilgrimage to the grave to mark the hundredth anniversary of
Rhodes's birth on 5 July 1953 is described on p. 21.
sacred trust to your sons that come after you and from generation to generat
I know if you do this my brother will be pleased.8
The Mhondoro [lion-spirits of the dead chiefs] are born of the liquid that comes from
the body of the chief as it is drying. Those responsible for that work collect that
liquid in a very big pot. They carry that to Matotwe where, after the body has been
placed in the cave, the liquid is poured into a prepared "grave" situated to one side.
That is closed and the top carefully swept. The people who look after the graves
then inspect the surface every day, watching for a hole to appear there. Once the
hole appears, they announce that the Chiefs Mhondoro has come out.
The bodies themselves are seated in their places in the cave and it is the duty of
13 Ibid., p. 75.
14 Ibid., p. 63.
15 For example, J. R. Peters, "The Fall of Dindikwa, Chief Mutambara, Head of
the Vagarwe Tribe of Melsetter District", Native Affairs Department Annual, xi, i
(1974).
16 D. E. F. Gumprich, "The Watungwa People, Chibi District: Notes on Suc-
cession", Native Affairs Department Annual, xi, iii (1976), p. 283.
17 D. Abraham, "The Principality of Maungwe", Native Affairs DepartmentAnnual,
xxviii (1951).
18 N.A., AOH/54, Interview between Dawson Munjeri and Aaron Mutambirwa
Makoni, 10, 17 May 1979.
the new Chief to provide them with new cloths. The caretakers take these cloths to
the caves, and addressing each body by name, they tell it who the cloths come from
and that he is the new chief. They then dress the body in new cloths and take the
old ones away. This is done only on the day on which the last Chief is put into the
cave. 19
production, were expressed in the idiom of the holy burial place and
the regular flow of pilgrimage. After 1890 missionaries established
themselves in Makoni as large-scale landowners, exerting a patriarchal
authority over their tenants and advocating new forms of agricultural
production as they preached the "Gospel of the Plough". Missionary
interest in pre-colonial holy places and pilgrimages was not a mere
matter of antiquarian concern or of enlightened missiology. Mission-
aries were seeking to read existing maps of power. Similarly, as they
created new Christian holy places and pilgrimages, missionaries were
laying claim to power, over men and over land. As they did so,
however, they participated in the creation of a popular Christianity.
The first resident missionaries in Makoni district were the Angli-
cans. In the early 1890s they were dependent on the favour of Chief
Chingaira Makoni and of Sub-chief Chipunza, who allowed them to
build huts near Chipadze. At this stage the missionaries were seeking
to understand and where necessary to adapt to African rituals rather
than seeking to introduce new rituals of their own. From the begin-
ning they were made aware of the importance to the people of Makoni
of the cult of the dead, of the holy place and of assemblies at it. In
1893 J. A. Walker and the black South African catechist, Frank
Siqubu, were working at "Maconi's Mission Station". One of their
most influential patrons was Chitula, "son of Chipunza, the most
important of Makoni's tributary chiefs". But in December 1893
Chitula died and preparations were made to inter him at Chipadze.
Messengers went out to every settlement within a radius of twenty
miles to summon people to the funeral. The two missionaries went
to Chipunza's kraal on the day before the interment:
Some of the dances were accompanied by the firing of guns, which is a great
institution among the Mashona . . Knowing of this custom Frank and I had
brought our rifles, and at a suitable moment we fired a few shots which pleased
them all. Chipunza called Frank and told him how pleased he was that we had come
to show our sorrow for Chitula.
The following day they observed the interment itself. They went "to
the place 'where the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep' and found
it among the ruins of a very large kraal where the ancestors of this
tribe used to live". A procession of four hundred Africans attended
the body there, firing guns, lamenting and singing. The body was
taken "to the foot of a huge block of granite, almost round at the
base, so that the bearers were able to place the body completely under
the rock". Walker and Siqubu were plainly endorsing an existing
Shona holy place rather than commencing a Christian seizure of
the landscape. But Walker ended his account with two sign
premonitory remarks:
As we went away we could only look forward to the time when these poor m
would no longer be without Christian hope and consolation. It is not yet,
trust it is coming.
It would be interesting to compare the funeral customs of these people wit
of the nations with whom they have come into contact in times long pas
hope a better knowledge of both their language and customs will enable m
so in time.25
The position had been transformed by the late 1890s. The mission
station in Makoni had been destroyed in the uprising of 1896. One
of the catechists, the Mozambican Bernard Mizeki, had been killed in
a neighbouring district. All vestiges of the early period of collaboration
between missionaries and effectively autonomous chiefs were swept
away. Chief Chingaira Makoni was executed after the storming of his
kraal. His successor owed his installation to the victorious whites and
when the Anglicans returned to Makoni they did so as the dependents
of colonial power. They were granted the two large farms of Epiphany
and St. Faith's by the British South Africa Company and became the
landlords and masters of the Africans resident upon them. Chiefs
could no longer exclude missionaries from the land reserved for
African occupation. As missionaries began to master language and
customs, so also they began to see how they could innovate their own
rituals of authority and of relationship to the land.
They were particularly interested in the parallels between Shona
holy places and the Christian cult of the saints. In November 1898,
for example, W. F. Roxburgh described how "in times of sickness,
plague, rain etc." the Shona turned "to the spirit of some famous
chief, doctor or local celebrity", making offerings at their graves. He
found that the "idea that they worship devils is a mistaken view of
their propitiary rites". In fact they made propitiation to benevolent
spirits, "just as they did among the Hebrews and still more in the
days of the medieval saints".26 In 1906 the radical missionary, Arthur
Shearly Cripps, found a Shona funeral "very fine in a barbaric way",
and felt that "it should be possible to build upon these Mashona
convictions a magnificent faith in the Communion of Saints".27
The missionaries at St. Faith's/Epiphany longed to begin such a
Being the death of the first Christian, of course, there came the question
he was to be buried [wrote Upcher]. I found out he wished to be buried on
hill opposite the Mission, called Chevuti. I toiled to the top, got a gloriou
but found the cave in which his father's body lay was not on the [missio
besides it would be a terrible toil to get the body there, and we wanted a
where future Christians should be buried. They pointed out another spot
crack of a big boulder; but no-one else could be buried there.
This somewhat less than fully elaborated doctrine of the saints, this
"rough apologia", supported as it was by the Chipunza Christians,
won the day and permission was granted for the opening of an out-
station. At the climax of the debate, as Lloyd later recounted, an
elder rose:
"Listen to me, men," he said, and they listened. "We are all men. We were born
of our mothers . . . We shall all die. Our bodies will be put in the rocks and our
spirits will go with the departed spirits. We do not know where they are going. The
teachers know more than we do. Let them have permission to gather the children
and teach them."33
You may not be aware to what extent this district is in the hands of Missions. Nearly
every kraal in the district is itself a Mission state . . . At Makoni's kraal and at
Tandi's kraal there are mission stations and so it goes on all over the district . ..
33 Ibid.
34 Sheila Meintjes, "Law and Nineteenth Century Natal" (History Workshop,
University of the Witwatersrand, Feb. 1984), p. 7.
The Missions have what may be called the monopoly of the confidences
large sections of the native communities.35
39 Olivia Harris, "The Dead and the Devils among the Bolivian Laymi", in M.
Bloch and Jonathan Parry (eds.), Death and the Regeneration of Life (Cambridge,
1982).
40 Ibid., p. 49.
41 Ibid., p. 56.
A grave always carries with it the danger associated with death, but it also has a
sacred character . . Graves are always avoided . . and mingled with the fear of
death is a fear of occult powers which are believed to linger around any grave . . .
Mishaps may be attributed to the proximity of graves.43
43 Michael Bourdillon, The Shona Peoples (Gwelo, 1976), p. 237. There certainly
were continuing tensions over the mission village cemeteries. One example comes as
late as 23 May 1950 in an entry from the St. Barbara's Journal, which is now at
Triashill. The diarist gives an example of "the superstitions of our people". A two-
month-old child died in the mission hospital. The missionary priest began a funeral
service in church but no one attended except an African nun. No one followed the
body to the cemetery: "The child is from afar, people here will have nothing to do
with its burial. They fear the spirit. Father speaks of the corporal works of mercy".
44 Richard Huntington and Peter Metcalfe, Celebrations of Death: The Anthropology
of Mortuary Ritual (Cambridge, 1979), p. 63.
45 Bourdillon, Shona Peoples, pp. 242, 259.
46 In the 1960s Marshall Murphree carried out a survey in Mtoko district, north-
east Zimbabwe, questioning people about their ideas on the fate of the soul. Among
non-Christians 56 per cent "responded with the Christian concept that a man's spirit
'goes to heaven' after his death". On the other hand, 16 per cent of Methodists and
22 per cent of Catholics "stated that a person became a mudzimu [ancestor spirit] at
death". Murphree tells a story which graphically illustrates possible interaction. A
devout Catholic died and was buried in the Christian cemetery. Thereafter his
granddaughter Agnes, also a Catholic, fell ill and it was finally diagnosed that her
illness was caused by her grandfather's spirit, seeking to speak through her. Through
his granddaughter the spirit commanded: "I want you to dig me up. The grave you
have dug me is too narrow and my head is twisted and uncomfortable. You must dig
the grave wider and longer. And put all my clothes in the grave!". But while
(cont. on p. 176)
ter, 1985); Terence Ranger, "Religion, Development and African Christian Identity:
The Case of Zimbabwe", Neue Zeitschrift fur Missionswissenschaft, xlii (1986).
50 United Society for the Propagation of the Gospel Archives, Tufton Street,
Westminster (hereafter U.S.P.G.), Southern Rhodesian Annual Reports Ser., Edgar
Lloyd, Annual Report, St. Faith's, 1931.
51 H. N. Foster, "Letter from Archdeacon of Matabeleland", 21 June 1909,
Mashonaland Quart. Papers, lxix (Aug. 1909), pp. 8-9.
This Christmas has been a glad time [wrote Lloyd's wife, Elaine, early in 1908].
We have been having weeks of tropical rains, but nothing was going to deter the
Makoni native from spending a good Christmas under the flag of St. Faith!
John, the Catechist of the Mission of the Epiphany, crossed the now-swollen
river, with his large band .. .Matthew and Matthias . .. brought their contingent
from afar ... At noon all assembled on the veld outside the church, and a procession
was formed, headed by the banners of the Missions of Epiphany and St. Faith's.
Singing "On Jordan's Bank", all moved down to the river, where rocks form a
natural front. It was a striking scene. On the further bank stood the mass of the
heathen, on the eastern the Priests and Catechumens ... At our feet was the
baptismal stream . . . Later in the day a Church Council was held. The heathen
were invited to sit around and listen to the rules drawn up for the guidance of the
little Christian community . . . These heathen must surely have been dimly aware
of a power now amongst them, to be reckoned with in the future.52
We hope to gather the folk in for a Mission [wrote Upcher] ... We want the people
to make the journey as a pilgrimage- so as to give the journey a religious
signification, an act of faith. Prayers to be said and hymns sung on the journey . . .
to remind us of our pilgrimage through this world, where we have no continuing
city. The sight of many gathered together will be a strength, so many of one mind,
the inspiration of numbers, the column of prayer and praise rising up from a
multitude.58
But during the three days of the mission it was once again the
teacher-evangelists who played the central role. They spoke like "real
prophets" and "with such fire". The climax was once again a "Choral
Evensong, with all the banners and everyone marching round the
Church, it was very stirring".59
These Anglican pilgrimages in Makoni were plainly - in the words
Riviere uses about pilgrimages in traditional African religion - local
in focus, occupying "strictly limited space", and a ritualization of
Christian "collective life". Once again, they did not make a break
with pre-Christian ideas and forms. Like pre-colonial pilgrimages
they served to dramatize and validate authority. Yet like the mission
cemetery, they were legitimating and subversive at one and the same
time. The radical element in Lloyd's pilgrimages is illuminated by
reference to the pilgrimage patterns developed in Charter district by
his friend Arthur Shearly Cripps. Cripps called his central station
Maronda Mashanu - "The Five Wounds" - after the emblem of
a rural revolt, the Pilgrimage of Grace. This was, wrote Cripps
"an emblem rather of sacrifice than success"; a badge for pilgrim
crusaders against pagan materialism and also against the soulless rule
of the capitalist Chartered Company.60 The church at Maronda
Mashanu was modelled on traditional Shona stone-walling - "th
church-cum-school building is unique", wrote a schools inspector
disparagingly, "and is an ambitious but poor repliqua of Zimbabwe.
It savours highly of Anglo-Catholicism".61 Similar structures sprang
up at out-stations all over Cripps's district.
But even these structures did not seem to Cripps suitable as a focus
62 N.A., file ANG 1/1/9, poem enclosed in Cripps to Edward Paget, 16 Dec. 1925.
63Terence Ranger, "Poverty and Prophetism: Religious Movements in the Makoni
District" (seminar paper, School of Oriental and African Studies, London, Oct. 1981).
Similarly, the first Trappist camp had been made in Ninga's cave,
the secret hiding-place of Sub-chief Changunda's people: "As long
as the Trappists had remained at Triashill, a yearly pilgrimage was
made to the rock and the cave every Trinity Sunday. She remembers
that the brothers used to go into the cave with lanterns".68
Such a fusion of "tradition" and Catholic pilgrimage was so success-
ful in taking hold of the land that when in the 1970s guerrillas
of Robert Mugabe's Zimbabwe African National Liberation Army
entered Makoni district and sought to gain legitimate access to its
holy hiding-places and strongholds, they worked in most places with
the spirit medium guardians of chiefly burial shrines, but at Triashill/
[It] would mean the opening of the world's second Lourdes, or Lourdes of Africa
... a centre of religious civilisation, but all to be conducted by African priests,
brothers and sisters ... We also want a grotto or a huge crucifix somewhere round
our Convent . . Because, my dear brethren, our places must be very religious to
attract our brethren just as the angels in heaven are attracted by the sigh
· . .And your places shall be resorts places for the whole world.71
In a real sense these homely articles, which might have been thought
unpromising material for veneration, could readily have been disco-
vered at any time in the past thirty-five years, since the site of
Bernard's hut at Chief Mangwende's was well enough known. Never-
theless, as Crane recorded, "to us who came upon this holy ground,
these discoveries moved us to wonder. And so we were commissioned
by the Bishop to erect a concrete platform over the floor and to built
an altar upon the platform".77
Paget indeed seized upon the discovery. In June 1933 he took the
visiting archbishop of Capetown to hold a service "on the site of the
martyrdom of Bernard Mizeki".78 In January 1934 he reported that
he planned to "hold a service annually on the anniversary of ... the
proto-martyr's death".79 The pilgrimage to the shrine at Mizeki's hut
developed rapidly over the next few years. In June 1934 "there was a
89 Salathiel Madziyire, "Heathen Practices in the Urban and Rural Parts of Maran-
dellas Area and their Effects upon Christianity", in Terence Ranger and John Weller
(eds.), Themes in the Christian History of Central Africa (London, 1975), pp. 75-82.
90 N.A., file AL 7/15/13/1-31, Cecil Alderson, sermon preached on 18 June 1961
for the Feast of Bernard Mizeki, Salisbury Cathedral.
CONCLUSION
away the influence of St. Faith's and Triashill and frustrate Paget's
attempt to institute the national pilgrimage cult of Bernard Mizeki.
Yet as the colonial economy revived in the later 1930s, and the peasant
option recovered, movements of revival led by African members of
the mission churches regained much of the lost ground. The Vapostori
remained as one part of the increasingly rich religious and symbolic
pattern of Makoni.
Again, in the 1970s when guerrilla war spread through Makoni,
only local holy places and holy men seemed any longer relevant.
The central, urban structures of Anglicanism and Catholicism were
discredited and impotent, and many commentators announced that
legitimacy and authority had moved to the suffering rural and local
churches.93 Indeed there was intense local interaction between the
guerrillas, those men of the bush, and local holy places and their
guardians. Guerrillas gained legitimate access to the caves and hills
by working with the representative figures of local popular religion
the spirit mediums guarding the burial hill of the Makoni chiefs,
the Irish priest-in-charge at Triashill and St. Barbara's.94 Guerrilla
capacity to read and use the mystical geography of Makoni was one
source of their advantage over the security forces. Yet since the end
of the war in 1980 central church institutions have turned out still to
have a great deal of life left in them, and not only the vitality of
material resources placed at the service of the new government's
educational and health policies. The symbolic resources of the ecclesi-
astical centre are not yet exhausted. The Bernard Mizeki pilgrimage
provides a striking illustration of this. During the war, with Mizeki
denounced as a colonial collaborator and with rural travel disrupted,
the pilgrimage had virtually come to an end. But it has now revived,
under the control of black bishops and with quite a new message.
Mizeki was, after all, a Mozambican. In June 1986, just as Mozam-
bique's leader, Samora Machel, was paying a visit to Zimbabwe and
the increasing military collaboration of the two countries against
South Africa was being described in the press, the black Anglican
hierarchy of Zimbabwe was manifesting its own fraternal links with
Mozambique:
Thousands of Christians, mainly women clad in the Anglican Church's colours
converged on the Bernard Mizeki Shrine to celebrate the Centenary of the Christian
martyr's baptism . . .The five-day festival . . . was also attended by 16 pilgrims
from Mozambique headed by the Bishop of Lebombo, the Right Reverend Dinis
93 I. Linden, The Catholic Church and the Struggle for Zimbabwe (London, 1980).
94 Ranger, "Holy Men and Rural Communities in Zimbabwe".
John of the Wilderness lies buried and his followers flock every
September. At St. Francis itself, a community which broke away
from the Anglican church in the 1930s and whose priest and leader,
killed by Rhodesian government police during the guerrilla war, is
himself the object of annual pilgrimage, the Gregory chapel behind
the altar of its little church contains a rock from one of the traditionally
holy hills of Makoni.96 It remains to be seen whether the agrarian
change envisaged by the Zimbabwe government, which plans radical
new uses of the land, will secularize this landscape, appropriated as
it has been for so many mystical geographies.