Gender and Power Fedele Knibbe
Gender and Power Fedele Knibbe
Gender and Power Fedele Knibbe
Contemporary Spirituality
Typeset in Sabon
by Apex CoVantage, LLC
List of Figures xi
Acknowledgments xiii
Bibliography 211
Contributors 231
Index 235
Like Maria Rosa, since the 1980s an increasing number of people in Europe
and Northern America refuse to consider themselves (only) as part of estab-
lished religion and develop ‘their own’ spiritual practices. In the past two
decades a growing number of individuals in Western society state that they
are not ‘religious’ but ‘spiritual’.1 They embrace loosely organized groups
practicing meditation, channeling or Reiki, join workshops about sacred
sexuality or shamanic drumming and create altars at their homes with statu-
ettes of divinities from different religious traditions. Some of them criticize
established religion as patriarchal, misogynist and hierarchical and refuse to
depend on an external authority, such as a priest, in order to establish con-
tact with the divine, if they even recognize the divine as a separate domain.
Spiritual practitioners often describe their experiences in terms of an all-
pervading life force they call ‘energy’ and tend to create their own spiritual
patchwork, assembling together different theories, techniques and figures.
What do people mean when they call themselves spiritual? Is ‘spirituality’
indeed something that can be distinguished from ‘religion’ on an analytical
level? Are the practices developed by contemporary spirituality as empowering
as advocates state they are? What role do gender and power have in contem-
porary spiritual groups claiming to be gender-equal and to be nonhierarchi-
cal? In this volume we address these and also other more specific questions
related to contemporary spiritual practices, building upon existing theories.
Although the importance of the themes of gender and power has already been
noted by scholars, we found that they have been analyzed with little reference
to ethnographic evidence, often taking for granted ‘emic’ discourses on gender
and power. Furthermore, most studies of contemporary spiritualities refer to
theories that draw on data mainly derived from the United States, Canada
and/or the United Kingdom.2 This volume explicitly addresses what happens
in other European and American countries. We can thus ask how local speci-
ficities influence the forms spirituality takes, as well as how consideration of
the findings in these ethnographies may inform theory.
The way in which Maria Rosa came to interpret her life as well as her
body, her choice to embrace spirituality without renouncing Catholicism
and her trajectory from disciple to teacher show how lived spirituality is
a complex phenomenon that needs to be analyzed in ways that go beyond
practitioners’ own self-understandings. Her story also clearly illustrates how
spirituality can help women come to terms with traumas related to their
gender identities and their sexuality.
Religion—spirituality
Fixed—flexible
Authority—absence of authority
Gender inequality—gender equality
Hierarchy—nonhierarchical structure
Status-oriented—inner development-oriented
Mediated access to divinity—unmediated access to divinity
Body/sexuality hostile—body/sexuality friendly
Although not all these distinctions may be operative across all contexts,
it is clear that spirituality is assumed to act critically on the presumed ‘nega-
tive’ traits of religion. Issues of power and gender seem to play a crucial
role in this process of construction by opposition. Even if spiritual practi-
tioners say that they contest all established religion, the kind of ‘religion’
they oppose seems to be mainly related to the Jewish-Christian heritage of
Notes on Terminology
How then do these considerations relate to other, partly overlapping terms
such as ‘New Age’, ‘New Religious Movements’, ‘spiritualities of life’ and
‘esotericism’? Since the 1980s there has been a growing literature about
new religious movements (NRMs),30 the New Age movement31 and more
recently spirituality.32 All these terms have been used as umbrellas to describe
a range of more or less organized groups and movements as well as the per-
sonal trajectories of individuals unrelated to groups. Some of these groups
POWER
Gender, power, religion and spirituality are all troubled categories in constant
change and it is difficult to determine where one ends and the other begins.
The contributors to this volume develop practice-oriented approaches to
different forms of spirituality, relating them to the local and/or transna-
tional contexts where they are enacted. They are young scholars from dif-
ferent countries ranging from Greece, Germany and Sweden to Israel and
the United States.
The opening chapter by Åsa Trulsson offers a good introduction into the
fluid universe of contemporary spirituality and its criticism of the concept
of religion. The “Goddess-oriented groups” the author describes are part of
a transnational movement that cannot simply be categorized as New Age,
Pagan or Goddess spirituality. Trulsson focuses on the processes of ritualiza-
tion and concludes that from this perspective the opposition between reli-
gion and spirituality seems to dissolve. Like other scholars Trulsson points
towards elements of continuity rather than rupture between spirituality and
vernacular religion.100 She maintains that a focus on ritual reveals that “[p]ower
NOTES
It gives beauty. Strengthens. Every time you go there, every time you make
contact with the ritual room, with that form of reality, then you strengthen
your experience. You strengthen that reality’s presence in your life.
For Miriam ritual practice infuses life with a sacred reality. In the reli-
gious field, Wood argues, practices take place in a particular religious mode,
which Wood defines as fostering relationships to the supernatural. Hence,
in Wood’s perception, practices that explicitly involve such relationships
would authorize activities as religious or spiritual.21 While this observation
might be culturally specific, it is a viable characterization of the contexts
under consideration here. It also allows us to divert attention away from
discourse and beliefs and focus on the actual practice in different fields as
explicitly relating to female entities. Kathy says:
There are special occasions but I think you can do ceremony at any
moment. It’s just a remembering, it’s a re-membering to make you con-
There is thus a strong relational quality in the ritual practice, which does
involve other participants, but also nominally sacred entities, particularly
the Goddess. Ritual is used strategically to infuse life with divine presence,
but also to foster a continuous relationship to the Goddess, that would
affect the way the self engages in the world—through constant prayer. We
are hence concerned with what Bell calls the strategic use of ritual—that is,
how ritual practice is used for certain objectives.22
However, while most of the women enter into these kinds of practices out
of conscious choice rather than socialization, there is also a didactic aspect
to be considered. In fact, during my fieldwork it became apparent that the
women repeatedly sought out these contexts to develop their sense of self
and learn a set of practices that would change their mode of relating to the
world, most notably relating to a specific cultural construction of a sacred
reality. Again, it is worth quoting Miriam:
Partly, the most important thing is that it is different openings for learn-
ing, to get more self-knowledge; that it is about knowing myself more.
All these little pieces of the puzzle. . . . And then perhaps secondly to
learn methods and tools to work partly with myself and partly with oth-
ers. Continue that work . . .
Although the author of the text stresses individuality, it is clear the daily
practice also involves a certain amount of discipline. A repeated practice,
which is also increased in length and recurrence, creates a certain routine
that structures the day and orients the self towards a desired state—that is,
a devotional relationship to the Goddess and a sense of divine comportment.
The body becomes the site of learning, which is achieved by practice and a
set of techniques of the body. It becomes thus a reorientation that changes
the very perception of self and mode of being in the world.31 Martha, who
undertook the three-year-long priestess training in Glastonbury, argues:
And by the time I had done the full three years, I had a lot more power;
I had a lot more authority, and a lot more belief in myself. I’d studied
Goddess since 1973 but I didn’t know what to do about it, because I
just wasn’t that kind of person, you know, whereas Kathy had worked
For Martha, the training was less about assessing a host of theoretical
knowledge about the Goddess than learning to ritualize and conduct mean-
ingful ceremonies. Further, during the course, her sense of self changed. The
reader should note that this is not the same argument as proposing that the
priestess training necessarily involves a celebration of the self, but rather
concerns a reorientation of the subject, where the body takes center stage.
A stimulating and perhaps pressing issue in the fields under consideration
here is gender. In most of the fields, women are the central protagonists and
furthermore make up the majority of participants. In several of the fields,
identifying as a woman was even a prerequisite for joining or gaining access.
Although the women hold divergent or unclear positions on what actually
constitutes a woman or a man, female subjectivity especially emerges many
times as a specific focus for the proceedings. Following the foregoing argu-
ments of the role of practice in shaping the participants’ sense of self, it is
reasonable to argue that the introduction of novel practices would also mold
gendered subjectivity.32 In the following, we will examine three examples
that all explicitly involve female corporeality and subjectivity. The analytical
focus will, however, be primarily directed towards how power and authority
are constituted in practice.
Just before dusk, a soft and peculiar light is enfolding the beautiful gardens.
Yesterday, the organizer walked us through the gardens and taught us how
and where to perform a stylized series of acts. She claimed that she modeled
the practice on the “12 Stations of the Cross”, but that she preferred—as she
was Goddess-oriented—to call it the “Stations of the Vulva”. The practice
was to be executed twice daily and this morning the participants went one
by one through the gardens, just after waking up or after breakfast. Tonight,
we try to perform it together. There are twelve stopping points in the gar-
dens that all are considered specifically potent or symbolically significant,
including two ancient yew trees and a renowned healing pool, and the last
stopping point overlooks the rounded mounds of Glastonbury and the oddly
shaped hill known as the Tor. The company is cheerful, but at each station
focus returns and we jointly perform the movements and exclaim the pre-
scribed words in unison: Lady, awaken my Spirit (stretching arms to the sky),
Lady, open my vision (touching the space just above the middle of the eyes,
commonly known as the third eye in these contexts), Lady, be in my words
(touching the mouth) and in all my actions (extending the arms), Lady, fill
my heart (both hands touching chest), Lady, soothe my emotions (touching
upper part of the belly), Lady, bless my sexuality and creativity (touching
And we called in [the circle] and then we just said a few things about Eve.
And I read something called a seventeenth-century nun’s prayer, which
is just about getting old and funny. And then she sort of turned and we
arranged for two guards to escort her into the underworld, where there
was another priestess. . . . Big Cornwall Goddess lady and she was wait-
ing in the fogou50 to be the crone to meet Eve. But the guards, nobody
wanted to dress up in medieval stuff, everyone is fed up with that, what’s
it got to do with anything? So we decided to dress them up as bouncers at
a nightclub—dark glasses and everything. And when she turned around,
we just started to fall about; it was so funny. And then when she came out
we showered her with petals. Dressed her up, sat her in her throne, which
was a camping chair, and crowned her. It was great because it suited her
and her humor. But it was also serious because it was, you know, she met
the crone and she had that experience and she comes out again to this big
celebration of wisdom. Because that’s what we celebrate, it’s a woman’s
passage into wisdom. And into a very different life, because once the
womb is not capable of bearing life, we are not the same creatures.
CONCLUDING REMARKS
I would like to thank the participants of the workshop “Spirituality against Religion:
The Role of Gender and Power” at the eleventh EASA biannual conference, and
Anna Fedele and Kim Knibbe for thoughtful comments and suggestions.
1. Many of the women gave their consent to use their names, but out of ethi-
cal consideration I use pseudonyms when citing the participants in the text,
with the exception of well-known authorities, such as Kathy.
2. Matthew Wood, Possession, Power and the New Age: Ambiguities of Authority
in Neoliberal Societies (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007), 8, 27, 60–61.
3. There is a growing number of exceptions to both these tendencies, espe-
cially in the field of Pagan studies. See, e.g., Nikki Bado-Fralick, Coming
to the Edge of the Circle: A Wiccan Initiation Ritual (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2005); Kirsty Coleman, Re-riting Women: Dianic Wicca
and the Divine Feminine (Lanham: Altamira Press, 2009); Susan Green-
wood, Magic, Witchcraft and the Otherworld: An Anthropology (Oxford:
Berg, 2000); Tanya Luhrmann, Persuasions of the Witch’s Craft: Ritual
Magic and Witchcraft in Present-Day England (Oxford: Basil Blackwell,
1989); Sabina Magliocco, Witching Culture: Folklore and Neo-Paganism
in America (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005); Sarah
Pike, Earthly Bodies, Magical Selves: Contemporary Pagans and the Search
for Community (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001); and Jone
Salomonsen, Enchanted Feminism: The Reclaiming Witches of San Fran-
cisco (London: Routledge, 2002).
4. See Catherine Bell, Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice (Oxford: Oxford Univer-
sity Press, 1992); Maurice Bloch, Ritual, History and Power. Selected Papers
in Anthropology (London: Athlone Press 1989); and Edward Schieffelin,
“On Failure and Performance: Throwing the Medium Out of the Seance”,
in The Performance of Healing, ed. Carol Laderman and Marina Roseman
(New York: Routledge, 1996).
5. See Caroline Humphrey and James Laidlaw, The Archetypal Actions of Rit-
ual: A Theory Illustrated by the Jain Rite of Worship (Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1994); and Roy Rappaport, Ritual and Religion in the Making of
Humanity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999).
6. Paul Heelas, The New Age Movement: The Celebration of Self and the
Sacralization of Modernity (Oxford: Blackwell, 1996), 221.
7. See Steve Bruce, God Is Dead: Secularization in the West (Malden: Black-
well, 2002); and Zygmunt Bauman, “Postmodern Religion?” in Religion,
Modernity and Postmodernity, ed. Paul Heelas, David Martin and Paul
Morris (Oxford: Blackwell, 1998).
8. See Bell, Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice, 19; Thomas Csordas, Body/ Mean-
ing/ Healing (New York: Palgrave, 2002), 58–87; and Michael Jackson,
“Knowledge of the Body”, Man 18 (1983): 339.
9. For a detailed description of the religious environment in Glastonbury, espe-
cially what is commonly known as the Alternative community, see Ruth
Prince and David Riches, The New Age in Glastonbury: The Construction of
Religious Movement (Oxford: Berghahn Books, 2000). See also Marion Bow-
man, “Ancient Avalon, New Jerusalem, Heart Chakra of Planet Earth: The
Local and the Global in Glastonbury”, Numen 52, no. 2 (2005): 157–190.
10. For a detailed description, see Åsa Trulsson, Cultivating the Sacred: Ritual Cre-
ativity and Practice among Women in Contemporary Europe (Lund: Media-
tryck, 2010), 97–116; see also Sara Strauss, “Locating Yoga: Ethnography and
Energy exists. For example, when you feel there is something negative
in certain people around you, and you try to avoid them or else you
become influenced by their negative energy. The opposite is also true.
problems she sporadically faces. She is also a Reiki healer, who treats plenty
of her Greek female friends very successfully, and “I urge them to follow an
alternative spiritual path themselves, in order to feel the power inside them,
in order to feel luminous and free”. Ioanna believes that her act of practicing
spirituality puts her in touch with her inner light, feelings and the divine, while
empowering her body and self.38 While exercising her inner power, Ioanna is
an Orthodox adherent. She attends church liturgies whenever she can, wears
a golden cross around her neck and prays in front of her household altar every
night. As she told me, establishing closeness with the Christian, transcendental
sacred is as vital as cultivating her inner spirituality.
Marina, a young woman in Thessaloniki who practices both religion and
spirituality, aptly summarizes the way in which my female informants in Crete
and northern Greece approach religion and spiritual in the following statement:
I believe you can manage this spiritual power if you reach a certain level
of spirituality. This [power] can be related to God, to the Orthodox
Church, or to Buddhism. . . . it exists as energy. Now, what you choose
to do with it and how you name it is totally up to you.
NOTES
Financial support from the Portuguese Foundation of Science and Technology (FCT)
made possible the writing-up stage of this article. I wish to thank Anna Fedele and
Kim Knibbe for their insightful comments on this paper. I am also grateful to Christina
Konstantaki for thoroughly discussing many of the ideas presented here, and for all her
support throughout the editing process.
Following the general line of the invisible religion thesis, Woodhead and
Heelas maintain that the contemporary transformation of religious forms
consists of a disintegration of institutional rituals and beliefs and their
reinvention around new organizational structures.6 Woodhead and Heelas
describe the differences between religion and spirituality as an opposition
between external authority (collective, moral, institutional, symbolic) and
internal or self-authority (individual, lived, subjective, sensory). External
authority corresponds to the ‘life-as’ religious model based on social iden-
tity, which refers both to the roles established for individuals based on their
positions in a social system and to the membership in a church. This collec-
tive religiosity or ‘congregational model’ corresponds to an expert system
in which the sources of validation of religious knowledge and experience lie
in different types of specialists.7 This contrasts with individual religiosity in
which the individual experience of different beliefs or rituals emerges as the
only legitimate place for religious authority. In this sense, the congregational
model is characterized by an attitude of commitment to an external truth
What I like about this Buddhism is that nobody forces you to do any-
thing. You are free, very free; you can do whatever you want. If you want
to go to the group meeting you go. If you don’t want to go, you don’t.
Nobody says to you: “Oh, you did not come! Did you?” I mean. . . . if
you don’t go, well, what happens?
The background reference is the opposite. Antonella exposes how she felt
about her religious childhood thus:
For many years my life was . . . like . . . “You have to be good because
if you are not good, then you will go to Hell”, or “you have to obey”. I
don’t know, I was raised in a religious school with nuns and there was
a Sister also called Antonella [the speaker and the Sister referred here
Faced with that memory of religion, Soka Gakkai members in Spain (who
mainly have a Catholic religious enculturation) present the experience of
Buddhist practice as spirituality that is not only liberating but also extremely
pragmatic, as shown in Chiara’s testimony about the early days with her first
master, Rose:
Many people are surprised when they realized how our group practice
is . . . I mean, with a disciple-master relationship. All these things scared
me in the beginning, but Rose introduced the practice to me in a dif-
ferent way. She said [Rose]: “practice and look what happens!” So I
[Chiara] began invoking every day in a relaxed way, you know . . . and
she [Rose] said: “try to get some goals, you will see that it works”. Some
goals to ask for, you know . . . and I targeted two or three very difficult
goals and suddenly I got it! . . . Well, I asked firstly for illumination
about my relationship, whether I should break it out or not, and soon I
met someone else. Then I asked for an important business with K, that is
a very big company. It was almost impossible but I got it too! . . . Yes, I
asked through daimoku,11 I contacted in a week and business went well,
we work together now.12
I was very shocked when my father fell ill with a tumor. Suddenly every-
body began to pray! Now I understand why, but then I was so angry.
[I remember] we were in a church, my mother and I, and I felt . . . I
was not connected. Everyone was praying for something but no one
was believing in the strength of my father! . . . When my father left the
operating room, my mother said: “Alas! Thank San Antonio! Dad has
been saved by San Antonio!” But I said: “He wasn’t, Mom! He has been
saved by the doctor and by Dad’s strength!” . . . I stopped believing in
Catholicism because I was upset, because everybody’s energy had been
launched outside and not into the person. The strength is within each
person!
The first general idea that drives this study is that religious varieties repre-
sented by the notions of spirituality and religion, as they have been proposed
by some sociological works, are not opposing, incompatible or exclusive
alternatives. On the contrary, they are linked in a dynamic relationship that
draws another picture of religious change. When Heelas, Woodhead, Tacey,
Roof, Flanagan, Hervieu-Leger and others addressed these issues, they tried
to create a theory that accounts for the decline of church religion and the
simultaneous ascent of subjective spirituality. However, in the case of Soka
Gakkai in Spain, we can see that individual spirituality is embedded in an
NOTES
EMPOWERMENT
DISCUSSION
NOTES
I wish to thank Michael Houseman for his many inspiring suggestions and careful
reading, as well as Emma Gobin for her valuable comments. I also thank the partici-
pants of the workshop “Spirituality against Religion: The Role of Gender and Power”
at the eleventh EASA biannual conference for the rich discussion that followed the
presentation of a first version of this text.
1. Paul Heelas et al., The Spiritual Revolution: Why Religion Is Giving Way
to Spirituality (Oxford: Blackwell, 2005).
2. Paul Heelas, The New Age Movement: The Celebration of the Self and the
Sacralization of Modernity (Cambridge: Blackwell, 1996), 26.
3. For a thorough criticism of discourse-based approaches and the use of writ-
ten sources in this field, see Matthew Wood, Possession, Power and the
New Age: Ambiguities of Authority in Neoliberal Societies (Aldershot: Ash-
gate, 2007).
4. The materials presented here were collected during research conducted in
Paris between 2004 and 2009, comprising three periods of field work in
Sao Paulo, Brazil (in 2005, 2006 and 2007). Methods included participant
observation in public and private rituals as well as semi-structured inter-
views. In Brazil I took part in ten-day ritual activities dedicated to French
devotees as well as two retreats independently.
5. Michael Houseman, “Menstrual Slaps and First Blood Celebrations”, in
Learning Religion: Anthropological Approaches, ed. David Berliner et al.
(New York: Breghahn Books, 2007); “Des rituels contemporains de pre-
mière menstruation”, Ethnologie française 40, no. 1 (2010): 57–66; Tanya
M. Luhrmann, Persuasions of the Witch’s Craft: Ritual Magic in Contem-
porary England (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1989).
6. In Brazilian Portuguese x is pronounced sh.
7. See, e.g., Alejandro Frigerio, “La expansión de religiones afrobrasileñas en
Argentina: Representaciones conflictivas de cultura, raza y nación en un con-
texto de integración regional”, Archives des Sciences Sociales des Religions
117 (2002): 127–150; Arnaud Halloy, “Um candomblé na Bélgica: Traços
etnográficos de uma tentativa de instalação e suas dificuldades”, Revista de
Antropologia 7, no. 2 (2004): 453–491; Maïa Guillot, “Du mythe de l’unité
luso-afro-brésilienne: Le candomblé et l’umbanda au Portugal”, Lusotopie
16, no. 2 (2009): 205–219; Ismael Pordeus Jr., Uma casa luso-afro-brasileira
com certeza (São Paulo: Terceira Margem, 2000); Clara Saraiva, “Afro-
Brazilian religions in Portugal”, Etnográfica 14, no. 2 (2010): 265–288.
BLACK MADONNAS
The Marian images the pilgrims described as “black” range from light brown
to jet black. This language is telling alongside that used by Christian devo-
tees who often use color words other than “black” to characterize these
same images. As William A. Christian has shown in the case of the Virgin of
Montserrat,5 commonly referred to by Catalans as “la Moreneta” (the dark
one), Catholic devotees in the early 1990s did not attribute any particular
importance to her color. This observation coincides with my own findings
among Catholic devotees of the Christ of Lepanto,6 a dark brown statue
venerated in the cathedral of Barcelona; when I asked the devotees where I
could find the statue of the black Christ (el Cristo Negro) in the cathedral,
they could not answer.
As we will see in some detail, the pilgrims and their leaders I accompa-
nied all knew Warner’s theories directly, or indirectly, through other works
that drew upon her writings. Influenced by Warner’s approach, the pilgrim-
age leaders stated the importance of substituting the ideal of the Christian
(white) Virgin with another one that did not disconnect human sexuality
from sacrality.
All three organized pilgrimages I took part in included visits to dark madonna
shrines. The Italian group I accompanied in the summer of 2003 consisted of
ten women and three men between the ages of thirty-five and fifty-three, as
well as a two-year-old boy. This group was led by Celso, a naturopath and
spiritual teacher in his early fifties, who had organized the eight-day tour
that included a visit to two Black Madonna shrines: Notre-Dame de Sous-
Terre in the crypt of Chartres cathedral and Notre-Dame de Rocamadour.
I also accompanied a Spanish and Catalan group on their seven-day tour
in the summer of 2004. This group visited only one dark madonna statue,
Notre-Dame de la Confession in Marseille. Led by Dana, a Barcelona-based
These pilgrims had had enough of the “white, celestial Mary”, who was
always loving, motherly and perfect. They thought that she had been muti-
lated and deprived of all bodily secretions other than her maternal milk; they
wanted instead a flesh and blood “Mother” who expressed their moments
not only of love and serenity but also of rage, pain and destructiveness. As
the shadow of the “White Virgin”, the Black Madonnas projected in dark
tones all that had been “hidden”.
Immacolata, an Italian woman in her forties who had started work right
after high school, was living on her own in Rome, where she worked as a
clerk. Immacolata told me that her most beautiful experience during the
pilgrimage had happened at Chartres, in front of the Black Madonna:
In the crypt of Chartres I stayed near the tabernacle and I still shiver
when I think about it. I felt like a hollow reed, crossed by that energy
coming from below. It was an amazing experience. I would like to go
back there . . . it was near the Black Madonna. . . . Celso made us form
a circle and take each other’s hands. I remember taking off my shoes and
nudging Gemma [a fellow pilgrim and friend of Immacolata] with my
elbow telling her: Take off your shoes! Because without shoes there was
no obstacle to this flow [of energy]. (April 8, 2005)
The pilgrims wanted to recuperate all the aspects the Church had labeled
as “dark” and attribute to them a different, positive meaning. Accepting
the relationship of certain areas of “the Feminine” with darkness, the pil-
grims inverted the meaning of dark. In this way they did not totally refuse
the “Christian ideology” they criticized but conferred on its basic concepts
a different meaning. This process mirrors their attitude to dark madonnas
in general: instead of refusing the Christian figure of the Mother of God,
they included her in their pantheon, ascribing to her another, opposing
meaning.
Notably, even in cases where all the dark statues in question represented
Mary holding her child, Jesus was seldom mentioned. The pilgrims’ Black
Madonna was not subordinated to a male “God”. She did not need to
ask Jesus or “God the Father” to have mercy on those who prayed to her,
thereby acting as a mere intercessor. She was the female equivalent of the
heavenly God, the expression of his complement, Mother Earth. The dark
statues venerated in the shrines visited by pilgrims represented a woman
crowned as queen, sitting on a throne or adorned with royal robes. To them
she was the “divine Queen” of her own accord, a woman with her own son,
demonstrating no need for either father or husband. And, like the ancient
pagan goddesses, she was seen as representing the fertility of the earth, the
possibility of life but also the power of death.
References to goddesses from ancient religions such as Inanna, Artemis
or Isis and from other contemporary religious traditions such as the Indian
Kali, the Afro-Brazilian Oshun or the Chinese Tara did occur on occasion,
but the main female figures the pilgrims invoked derived from the Christian
world. Unwilling to abandon the figure of the Virgin Mary they had known
from childhood or to renounce the use of Christian churches as places to
commune with the divine, the pilgrims, with the help of their leaders, cre-
ated their own Mother of God by turning her into a Mother Goddess. Even
though they saw the official Christian religions as the expression of what
they identified as patriarchy, they still believed in the potentialities of what
some described as “the Christian tradition”.
Through the work of authors such as Marina Warner and others influ-
enced by her, the pilgrims had learned to see some of the ideological and
political implications of the heavenly and immaculate Virgin Mary and thus
considered her to be the personification of the patriarchal domination of
women. Influenced by Jungian theories about the power of archetypes33
shared by their pilgrimage leaders, the participants looked for a female
archetypal figure that could serve as a reference for women and men freed
from the boundaries of patriarchal structures.
Shadows cannot exist without the light. Just so, it seems that the Black
Madonna, described by one Catalan pilgrim as “the Goddess against the
light”, would not exist without her white equivalent. Similarly, the pilgrims’
spirituality was also presented as a construction in opposition to what they
perceived as (Christian) religion.
Marina Warner, authors of spiritual-esoteric literature who were influ-
enced by her, as well as the leaders and pilgrims themselves all refer to the
cult of the Virgin Mary in abstract terms, taking for granted the assumption
that she has been venerated by Christian laypeople according to whatever
features were ascribed to her by institutional Christianity. By so doing, the
pilgrims and their leaders have accepted the idea that laypeople have been
passively absorbing formal ecclesiastical teachings about the Virgin Mary
throughout the centuries. But ethnographies about Marian devotion34 as
well as historical studies about Christianity35 show that the Virgin (and
other Christian divinities) of Christian writers and priests is quite different
from the Mary of everyday devotees and pilgrims. These accounts show a
Mary who appears as a powerful figure associated with a plethora of mean-
ings that often challenge the status quo, including the predominant social
and religious order.
In her ethnography about pilgrimages to Medjugorje, Élisabeth Clav-
erie36 analyzes the local apparitions of the Virgin since 1981 that have not
been recognized as authentic by the Catholic Church. Claverie has shown
how Our Lady of Medjugorje has been used by locals to make sense of and
even to justify the war that brought about the dissolution of Yugoslavia, and
to come to terms with the traumatic experiences related to massacres dur-
ing that war, as well as earlier conflicts in that same region. In his historical
ethnography about the visionaries in the Basque town of Ezkioga in 1931,
William Christian also found that their Virgin allowed the local Basque com-
munity to cope with current political and social changes and to voice their
protest accordingly.37 To take an example of another dark madonna statue,
Judith Samson describes Catholic American women making pilgrimages to
Czestockowa (Poland) to confront their guilt for having had an abortion
and to recover from what they identify as “post-abortion syndrome”.38
One of the other strong moments for me was knowing I was coming to
meet la Mère de la Bonne Mort [the Mother of the Good Death], because
I suppose that part of my journey, you know turning fifty, was something
about facing mortality, facing my own aging and my own human frailty.
And preceding my fifties, going through menopause, the experiencing of
a lot of changes through my body, some concerns about what was going
on in my body. So there was something powerful in facing her, you know,
really thinking about death. (October 13, 2005)
The primary message I got from the tour is that it’s important to embrace
the darkness within myself—to explore and integrate those aspects of
myself that I’ve rejected—and I’ve been doing that intentionally since
I returned. . . . This collective darkness is huge and complex, but I feel
that some of the issues it touches upon are sexuality, receptivity, and
vulnerability. It is the fertile, earthly quality that the church rejected in
favor of a sky god who came from a virgin mother.
CONCLUSION
Far from receding into legend like the goddess Ishtar, as Warner had pre-
dicted,52 the Virgin Mary, in her “black” or “white” version, continues to
attract hundreds of pilgrims every year, and the features ascribed to her offer
insights into her devotees’ needs and troubles as well as into the paradoxes
of our age. Throughout this chapter I have analyzed the way in which pil-
grims who do not call themselves practicing Catholics, or even Christians,
conceptualize and interact ritually with Black Madonnas. Even allowing
for the influence of Ean Begg’s and Marina Warner’s texts on the pilgrims,
we can see that these men and women did not passively accept the theories
formulated about the Virgin Mary but rather went about establishing their
own personal relationship with the dark statues themselves.
Analyzing the changing significances attributed to dark madonna stat-
ues throughout the centuries, we have seen that what emerges as the topic
that preoccupies researchers are questions regarding the figures’ color. I
believe with Scheer that it would be more telling if we understood when
and if the statues’ darkness became an important factor for people, why
darkness became an attractive feature in certain historical periods and the
range of meanings associated with the dark figures. As for the pilgrims I
have described in this chapter, their interpretation of the dark statues drew
on a sort of magical mirror that reflected the image of their patriarchal
white Mary, but that inverted her conventional attributes and meanings.
The Madonna’s darkness was for the pilgrims a central element of her nature
NOTES
1. Among others: Ellen Badone, “Pilgrimage, Tourism and The Da Vinci Code
at Les-Saintes Maries-de-la- Mer, France”, Culture and Religion 9, no. 1
(2008): 23–44; Marion Bowman, “Drawn to Glastonbury”, in Pilgrimage
in Popular Culture, ed. Ian Reader and Tony Walter (London: Macmillan,
1993), 29–62; Adrian J. Ivakhiv, Claiming Sacred Ground: Pilgrims and
Politics at Glastonbury and Sedona (Indianapolis: Indiana University Press,
2001); Kathryn Rountree, “Goddess Pilgrims as Tourists: Inscribing the Body
through Sacred Travel”, Sociology of Religion 63, no. 4 (2002): 475–496;
Deana Weibel, “Kidnapping the Virgin: The Reinterpretation of a Roman
Catholic Shrine by Religious Creatives” (PhD diss., University of California,
San Diego, 2001); and Deana Weibel, “Of Consciousness Changes and For-
tified Faith: Creativist and Catholic Pilgrimage at French Catholic Shrines”,
in Pilgrimage and Healing, ed. Jill Dubisch and Michael Winkelman (Tuc-
son: University of Arizona Press, 2005), 111–134. For an overview of this
kind of alternative pilgrimage see Laurel Zwissler, “Pagan Pilgrimage: New
Age Movements Research on Sacred Travel within Pagan and New Age
Communities”, Religion Compass 5, no.7 (July 2011): 326–342.
2. As Matthew Wood shows in Possession, Power and the New Age: Ambi-
guities of Authority in Neoliberal Societies (Farnham: Ashgate, 2007),
“New Age” is a contested term and it is difficult to understand what each
researcher means when referring to it. The pilgrims I met tended to have a
negative image of what they identified as “New Age” and did not like to be
called “New Agers”. See also the introduction to this volume.
3. Anna Fedele, Looking for Mary Magdalene: Alternative Pilgrimage and Rit-
ual Creativity at Catholic Shrines in Contemporary France (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2012).
4. Among others: Helen Berger, A Community of Witches (Columbia: Uni-
versity of South Carolina Press, 1999); Tanya M. Luhrmann, Persuasions
of the Witch’s Craft: Ritual Magic and Witchcraft in Present-day England
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1989); Sabina Magliocco, Witch-
ing Culture: Folklore and Neo-paganism in America (Philadelphia: Univer-
sity of Pennsylvania Press, 2004); Sarah M. Pike, Earthly Bodies, Magical
Selves: Contemporary Pagans and the Search for Community (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 2001); and Jone Salomonsen, Enchanted
Feminism: The Reclaiming Witches of San Francisco (London: Routledge,
2002). See also Hegner and Trulsson this volume.
5. William Christian, “La devoció a les images brunes a Catalunya: La Mare de
Déu de Montserrat”, Revista d’etnologia de Catalunya 6 (February 1995):
24–31. On the Virgin of Montserrat see also Josefina Roma i Riu, “Nigra
sum? Reflexions antropològiques entorn de la Mare de Déu de Montserrat i
la Santa Muntanya”, Quaderns-e, July 2006, http://www.antropologia.cat/
antiga/quaderns-e/07/Roma.htm. For a study on Black Madonnas in Italy
see Lucia Chiavola Birnbaum, Black Madonnas: Feminism, Religion and
Politics in Italy (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1993).
6. Anna Fedele, “La figura del Santo Cristo de Lepanto en la Catedral de
Barcelona, puerta hacia el mundo de arriba para la comunicación y la
negociación con lo Divino”, Actas del IX Congreso de Antropología de la
FAAEE (Barcelona, 2002).
Contact with entities that are usually invisible, such as gods, spirits, fairies,
angels and so on, is common for many people all over the world; in anthro-
pological as well as in other literature there is a rich tradition of describing
the large variety of practices related to such entities. Many people in Ger-
many are also familiar with such practices, which often occur within the wide
context of healing. In this context, particular healers known as spiritual,
mediumistic, shamanic or miracle healers act in different ways as mediums
for various entities to enable them to curatively affect help-seeking clients.
During my multi-sited PhD fieldwork in Germany from 2005 to 2007, I fol-
lowed the metaphor of “mediumistic healing” and, through esoteric fairs,
flyers, advertisements in relevant journals, and later through referrals by
different healers or clients, I came into contact with about thirty healers
who are presently practicing as well as several hundred followers from vari-
ous, mostly transnational scenes, each of them with their own vocabulary,
techniques, social organization and ideas about mediumship. By name, there
are many people who call themselves a medium in a spiritistic tradition and
claim to “channel” information or “energies” from “the other world”; they
assume the existence of wise and knowing spirits that help humans in their
development. Others refer to themselves as shamans or shamanic practitio-
ners and establish contact with their helping-spirits through shamanic drum
journeys. In the Reiki scene, people believe in the existence of a universal
energy, which they call Reiki energy. It is assumed that this energy flows
through the Reiki healer’s body and leaves it through his or her hands. The
placement of the healer’s hands near or on the client’s body should cause this
energy to be transmitted, releasing within the client’s body energy blockages,
which are seen as sources of illness. In Family Constellation therapy in the
tradition of the German therapist Bert Hellinger, problems are traced back
to the client’s family system, which is supposedly not in the right order. By
performing the family system, it is assumed that the performers can be in
contact with the authentic feelings of their dead or living family members.
The term “power” is used in different ways. When talking about power
in the context of religion it is common in the social sciences to distinguish
religion and spirituality. In doing so religion is assumed to be a sphere in
which an external authority dominates the religious practice, whereas spiri-
tuality is characterized by an absence of external authority and the pres-
ence of an inner self-authority, typical for such modern religious practices
as the so-called New Age.6 Approaches like this are thoroughly criticized by
Matthew Wood,7 who instead suggests differentiating a religious field into
formative and non-formative religions. In his criticism he refers to a way
of using the term “power” that is mainly influenced by the approaches of
Michel Foucault.8 As is well known, Foucault criticized a usage of the term
“power” that regards power alone as a kind of repression—that is, one
can have power over someone and thus one can have more or less power.
Without neglecting the existence of such aspects of power, Foucault instead
conceptualizes power as omnipresent, inevitable and intangible.9 In combi-
nation with the background of a concept of knowledge that is historically
contingent, he thus highlights the productive elements of power. Among
other things, this concerns the establishment of hegemonic ideas regarding
knowledge and gender roles as well as the concept of the self and its body
and feelings: “We believe that feelings are immutable, but every sentiment,
particularly the noblest and most disinterested, has a history. We believe in
the dull constancy of instinctual life and imagine that it continues to exert
its force indiscriminately in the present as it did in the past. But a knowledge
of history easily disintegrates this unity . . . We believe, in any event, that the
body obeys the exclusive laws of physiology and that it escapes the influence
of history, but this too is false. The body is moulded by a great many distinct
regimes . . . Nothing in man—not even his body—is sufficiently stable to
serve as the basis for self-recognition or for understanding other men”.10
From such a perspective it seems strange, or rather it seems a manifesta-
tion of a modern self-conception, to divide religion and spirituality in the
way just mentioned. Thus, Wood concludes that scholars simply adopted
the indigenous concepts of self-authority uncritically for their own analy-
sis. Due to the assumption of inescapable power and the assumption that
self-essence does not exist, there is no realm in which one could be without
external authorities because it is not possible to divide the inside from the
The majority of the healers I met accept both hegemonic ideas of knowl-
edge as well as their supposed own heterodox position. Instead of referring
self-confidently and in a positive way to the available terms—religion or
NOTES
The young woman standing in the center of the room, surrounded by mem-
bers of Ruach-HaLev Jewish community, was distraught with emotion.
Speaking quickly, her words punctuated with sobs, she described an experi-
ence that to most of her listeners was unthinkable, untenable—a sexually
abusive relationship with no other than Rabbi David V., the beloved charis-
matic leader of the community. “He robbed me of my womanhood, my intu-
ition, my womb”, Zoe murmured,1 her eyes filling with tears. As she spoke,
some of her close friends drew near her, touching her shoulder, embracing
her. The crowded room was eerily silent.
The emergency meeting of Ruach-HaLev (literally: Spirit of the Heart)
community in Tel Aviv had been called earlier that day, at only a few hours’
notice. Some forty members arrived at the designated location, the base-
ment of the Sea and Wind youth hostel, speculating as to the reason for
the unusual gathering. But they were not kept waiting long: as soon as the
room was full, a few of the leading teachers in the community addressed
the group, informing them that four female members of the community had
pressed charges against Rabbi David for sexual assault. Consequently, the
teachers reported, the board had decided to release him from all his duties
as teacher and leader.
The first reaction of Ruach-HaLev community members was one of anger
and resentment. “This is a kangaroo court!” one of them shouted. “How can
you make these accusations behind the rabbi’s back?” another demanded.
But then one of the community members stood up abruptly, and asked for
permission to speak. She told the shocked community that she was one of
the four women, and that she had had a five-year-long abusive relationship
with Rabbi David. The room fell silent, as the members struggled to come
to terms with the fact that there may be more than a grain of truth to the
accusations.
But the reality of their beloved rabbi’s transgressions did not hit home
until Zoe stood up. Emboldened by her friend’s testimony, she went on to
describe her own disastrous relationship with Rabbi David. Zoe was rela-
tively new to the community—she had been a member for only a year—but
the young American had impressed everyone with her glowing smile, and
A pastiche of Jewish tradition and New Age spirituality, the Jewish Spiri-
tual Renewal (JSR) movement is an ongoing attempt to renew Judaism by
incorporating New Age philosophy and practices into Jewish tradition.6 In
doing so, it fuses contradictory elements, such as the concept of universal
spirituality versus the particularity of the Jewish faith and the Jewish people;
or the nonhierarchical, networked and gender-equal structure distinctive of
contemporary spirituality, versus the authoritative, hierarchical and patri-
archal social construction of traditional monotheistic religions, Judaism
among them.
Indeed, the unique case of JSR challenges the dominant scholarly distinc-
tion between religion and spirituality.7 Most research on New Age spiritu-
There are two notable aspects in Hagit’s description of her initial meeting
with Rabbi David. The first is her perception of being chosen by the rabbi.
By looking in her eyes, she felt the rabbi recognized her hidden talents and
qualities and singled her out to accompany him. The second aspect is that
of admiration, bordering on reverence. Hagit sees Rabbi David as a man
“bigger then life”. Being in his proximity affects her. She says, “There is
something in him that expands you, because the way he lives is so great”. It
is as if just by being in the proximity of the charismatic leader that his aura
or vitality attaches itself unto his followers.
This perception may begin to explain how some charismatic religious,
spiritual or political leaders succeed in abusing their followers. Often the
adherence to the leader’s charisma and the commitment to him are trans-
lated by the follower to affective relationships and to feelings of love. This
aspect is especially significant from a gendered perspective, since in many of
these religious groups female devotees have to cope with a religious hierar-
chy that is primarily male dominated, and patterns of socialization encour-
age women to define their devotion in terms of love and romantic allusion.40
In a finding that seems is particularly relevant to the case of Ruach-HaLev,
Janet Jacobs states that the majority of women involved with nontraditional
religious groups expressed a strong willingness, even desire, to engage in
sexual relations with the spiritual teacher. This willingness seemed to arise
partially out of the desire to be intimate with the men in power, partially
out of a deep feeling of love for the teacher, and partially out of the belief,
stressed in the teachings, that the promise of enlightenment might be that
much closer to fulfillment if one were to have a physical relationship with a
godly being. To experience his love intimately is to experience God. Thus,
the desire for sexual intimacy with the leader is often expressed as the desire
for spiritual fulfillment.41
Moreover, Hood and Hall42 argue that due to the fact that in most mysti-
cal traditions the mystical union of man with God is described by the meta-
Most social scientist agree that issues of power and authority are by and
large intrinsic to all social forms and order and that they are present in all
social configurations.45 However, nearly all of the scholarly works on con-
temporary New Age spirituality conceptualize it as an un-institutionalized,
individualized form of religiosity, in which the locus of authority is located
within the self and not society.46 Even studies that recognize the communal
and social aspects of contemporary spirituality rarely discuss issues of lead-
ership, power or authority.
The case of the JSR movement and Ruach-HaLev community is even more
intricate, since it presents also another type of authority—that is, the author-
ity of Jewish tradition. The JSR amalgamation of New Age subjective spiri-
tuality with Judaism generates unintentional tensions and conflicts, some of
which are related to issues of authority and ethics. The scandal in Ruach-
HaLev community, which was the result of Rabbi David’s charismatic lead-
ership, is such an instance. On the one hand, Rabbi David’s combination of
New Age spirituality with Jewish mystical tradition resulted in a controver-
sial form of New Age Judaism, in which ideas of spiritual self-development
and sacred sexuality were articulated through concepts drawn from Jewish
mysticism. On the other hand, influenced by Hasidism, as well as new reli-
gious movements, the community was constituted around the figure of the
charismatic male rabbi, whose relationship with his students was not unlike
the relationship of a guru with his disciples. Unfortunately, as in other simi-
lar cases of powerful male leaders, Rabbi David could not resist abusing his
power over the women in his community and took advantage of them.
The culmination of the affair—the disclosure of the affair by the women
and the swift action taken by the board of Ruach-HaLev, dismissing Rabbi
David from his position as leader and a teacher—reveals that the authority
of Jewish ethical tradition prevailed over other forms of authority. The board
members’ choice to believe the women’s accusations and to dismiss Rabbi
David was based on the Jewish moral position regarding the appropriate
behavior of a religious leader. “We do not believe that a man who acted in
such way should be in the role of our rabbi or spiritual teacher”, said one of
the teachers of the community, during the long hours of the unhappy com-
munity meeting in which the rabbi’s behavior was first revealed. Vacillating
between the power of charisma, the moral universe and discourse of New
NOTES
1. In order to protect their privacy of the people mentioned in this paper, all
names of people, communities, places and published works were changed.
2. Following these events, the board of Ruach-HaLev community had taken
care to notify all Jewish-American organizations with whom R. David was
involved of his misconduct. He was promptly dismissed from all his teach-
ing positions within the Jewish Renewal movement in the United States.
3. Kabbalah is the comprehensive name for a body of esoteric texts, oral tradi-
tions and ritual practices written by rabbis and Jewish mystics from medi-
eval times onwards. In recent years, there has been remarkable growth in
the interest in Kabbalah, among Jews and non-Jews alike.
4. Hassidism (literally “piety”) is a Jewish revitalization movement that devel-
oped in the mid-eighteenth century in Ukraine and Poland. Hasidism popu-
larized and psychologized Kabbalist literature, rendering it understandable
to lay Jews. Hasidism is also marked by aspiring to emotional exuberance
and joy, within the framework of traditional Rabbinic Jewish study and
observance.
5. While some differences between ‘feminine spirituality’ and ‘feminist spiritu-
ality’ exist, in this paper I will use the two terms interchangeably.
6. Rachel Werczberger, “Memory, Land and Identity: Visions of the Past and
the Land in the Jewish Spiritual Renewal Movement in Israel”, Journal of
Contemporary Religion 26, no. 2 (2011): 269–289.
7. For instance, Paul Heelas and Linda Woodhead, The Spiritual Revolution:
Why Religion Is Giving Way to Spirituality (Oxford: Blackwell, 2005).
8. Paul Heelas, The New Age Movement: The Celebration of the Self and
the Sacralization of Modernity (Oxford: Blackwell, 1996); Matthew Wood,
Possession, Power and the New Age: Ambiguities of Authority in Neo-
liberal Societies (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2007).
9. James Beckford, Cult Controversies: The Societal Response to New Reli-
gious Movements (London: Tavistock, 1985); Bryan Wilson, The Social
Impact of New Religious Movements (Barrytown: Unification Theological
Seminary, 1981).
10. Janet Jacobs, “The Economy of Love in Religious Commitment: The Decon-
version of Women from Nontraditional Religious Movements”, Journal for
the Scientific Study of Religion 23 (1984): 155–171.
11. Thomas Robbins, Cults, Converts and Charisma: The Sociology of New
Religious Movements (Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE, 1988).
12. Max Weber, From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology, trans. and ed. H. H.
Gerth and C. W. Mills (New York: Oxford University Press, 1958).
13. S. N. Eisenstadt, introduction to Max Weber: On Charisma and Institution
Building, by Max Weber, ed. S. N. Eisenstadt (Chicago: University of Chi-
cago Press, 1968).
14. Ibid., introduction, xix.
15. Ibid., introduction, xx.
16. Cynthia Eller, Living in the Lap of the Goddess: The Feminist Spirituality
Movement in America (Boston: Beacon Press, 1995).
17. Ibid.; Susan Sered Starr, Priestess, Mother, Sacred Sister: Religions Domi-
nated by Women (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994).
It is a sunny day at the end of April. Ingeborg and I are sitting together
at her balcony . . . We know each other from an Ostara ritual at Luna’s.
Ostara—Spring Equinox—is one of the eight Sabbaths that witches
observe during the year.12 On this day, they celebrate the prosperity
of life. Winter is over. Every living organism is supposed to grow and
to procreate. Ingeborg had heard that I am doing a study on urban
witchcraft and had invited me to her home. She had enthusiastically
approached me, explaining that she would love to tell me how she came
to be interested in “all that stuff” and what witchcraft means to her,
how a witch’s home actually looks, and other interesting things. Now
Since 1997 Luna has called herself a witch. She has opened a center called
the “Lion’s Moon” for the celebration of “Old Wisdom”, located in the for-
mer West Berlin. There she offers her spiritual healing abilities to interested
women. She treats light physical as well as psychological problems. In addi-
tion, she organizes the eight Neopagan festivals of the year. Furthermore,
she regularly invites women to perform moon rituals and to celebrate the
Great Goddess.13 For Samhain and Beltane she organizes a retreat into the
countryside near Berlin. These trips are only for “spiritually experienced
women”, as Luna says, since there “you will meet your inner dark side. Some
are not yet spiritually ready for it”.14 The cast of the group changes con-
stantly. There are some core attendees, but even they do not come regularly.
As open and dynamic as the group is, Luna’s position is not. She always
takes the lead. Hence, she designs and conducts the rituals. She decides who
can join the retreat and who cannot. In addition, she is the owner of the
space where most of the rituals are performed: a three-bedroom apartment
that is used exclusively for spiritual gatherings. Luna herself lives three sto-
ries above it. Last but not least she chooses the ritual sites outside of the
The City
As a performative act, Luna’s spiritual authority is an issue of negotiation
and thus always dynamic and instable. Taking the wider context into consid-
eration, it is particularly dynamic in a city such as Berlin, where the variety
of practitioners and offers of new religions is so big that even “insiders”—
new religious practitioners themselves—seem to have lost an “overview”.18
Activists such as Luna have to compete for spiritual authority. It is cer-
tainly not an exclusive authority that Luna strives for. On the contrary, she
welcomes the fact that people have multiple spiritual authorities that they
follow. For her, this multiplicity reflects the city’s definitional character of
cultural and social variety and openness—a principle that corresponds with
her own values. In this context, she draws particularly on the idea of the
city as a multicultural locale with a large population of migrants. As she
explains, so many religions and their different traditions arrived in the city
via migrants, finding a ‘home’ in Berlin, that one is almost forced to use
them—coerced to submit to these various authorities. “They came with the
people. We . . . have to use those spirits and deities. Some of them are very
powerful”, she once explained to me.
In order to understand this specific situation, within which there is a
strong emphasis on not having a singular authority, but rather multiple
authorities that give shape to a group or individual, the sociologist Mat-
thew Wood suggests the term ‘non-formativeness’, thus moving away from
a dichotomist model of authority (inner versus outer). ‘Non-formativeness’
as he sees it in his study on New Age movements and the issue of neolib-
eralism and authority is a central characteristic of new religious practices.
He explains that ‘non-formativeness’ is a tendency, and has to be under-
stood in relational terms. Hence, “. . . churchly, denominational, sectarian
and cultic forms of religion have strong tendencies towards formativeness,
although multiple authorities are found within them and within the lives
of their adherents. In other words, there exists across the religious field a
Luna and her husband deliberately submitted to the forms, structures and
contents of a Catholic ritual; she even underwent baptism. They took these
religious actions as authoritative. However, it must be emphasized that only
certain such actions were thus recognized. As Luna told me, “We had our
own singers who did the chants. Lars’ friends waved the incenses. We did
not say: Till death do us part, but: blablabla. It was a great happening”. As
she explicated to me over the phone, most important for her, when decid-
ing on a Catholic wedding, was—as she called it—its spiritual seriousness
(interview, May 17, 2011).20
As open and situational as Luna’s relationship towards a multiple set of
spiritual authorities is, it is also in many ways quite inflexible and strict,
particularly towards the field of new religions. There she makes a clear dis-
tinction between legitimate new religious practices—those that have author-
ity—and illegitimate ones—those that don’t. Indeed, when we first met she
A FINE BALANCE
For Luna rituals have one primary goal—to empower women and free them
of patriarchal patterns of thought. Here she mainly draws on ideas of the
American witch and Neopagan activist Starhawk as well as of the Ger-
man witch Luisa Francia. Starhawk, like Francia, represents a branch of
witchcraft that is radically socialist and feminist. Starhawk’s understanding
of authority and—closely related—of power clearly follow the distinction
SUMMARY
Within the social scientists’ debates over new religious practices, it has
become an established paradigm that one of the characteristics of new forms
of religion is the dominance of the inner self. It is the ultimate authority that
always presides over external authorities. However, this approach towards
new religions/spiritualities reproduces the internal discourse of new religions
on power itself without moving beyond it. It fails to consider the fact that
the ‘inner self’ is itself a product of external authority. Furthermore, it leaves
out the fact that ‘authorities outside the self’ are highly formative for the
social structures among the new religious practitioners themselves. In order
to broaden this analytic lens, I suggest the idea of authority as a performa-
tive act. Through the ethnographic deep description of a group of Neopagan
witches in Berlin, I traced the ways in which Luna acquires spiritual author-
ity among them—a social position that is ascribed to her and that people
subordinate themselves to without coercion. The advantage of a ‘performa-
tive approach’ is that it reveals that authority is to a great extent established
through bodily experience where all senses come into play. Furthermore, it
NOTES
Religion and spirituality can both play a role in the processes of acquisition
of power by women and lead to the construction of new gender identi-
ties; both can serve as channels for achieving personal realization and the
creation of power spheres. This chapter will explore these dynamics on the
basis of two ethnographic researches carried out in Portugal, more specifi-
cally in the Greater Lisbon area. It is useful to contrast spirituality with
traditional religion in order to highlight the differences between them, as
well as the growing tendency to replace the second by the first. However, this
does not mean that both can be completely differentiated. The ethnographic
data analyzed in this paper demonstrate that spirituality is an alternative to
religion. Spirituality favors, according to the involved social actors, greater
openness and creativity. I therefore propose an analysis of these dynamics
centered in the categories of gender and power.
The first ethnographic research focuses on the Hindu community resid-
ing in Santo António dos Cavaleiros—municipality of Loures, district of
Lisbon—and on the key role of women in the process of cultural reproduc-
tion in their community. Religion is the vehicle through which these women
accede to new female statuses, developed while reformatting Hinduism itself.
The second ethnographic case focuses on women who are members of
the Brahma Kumaris World Spiritual University (BKWSU), belonging to
two centers in the city of Lisbon—in the neighborhood of Ajuda, where the
national headquarters of the movement is, and in Santa Apolónia. Central
to this case is an analysis of the processes of identity redefinition that these
women undergo in their encounter with spirituality.
The choice of these two groups was due to the fact that in both cases the
women’s opinions about their own status and on their central role within the
religious or spiritual movements that they integrate are based on the same
stereotypes. They also have a common philosophical background with roots
in India. The comparison of the two empirical works allows us to locate two
central axes through which the women construct their discourses on self-
realization. These are based on functions associated with their female condi-
tion: service and motherhood. As we will see throughout this text, in both
cases, these two functions emerge associated with the idea of womanhood.
This case study focuses on the religious practice of a group of Hindu women
resident in the area of Greater Lisbon. They form part of a community of
around thirty-three thousand2 Hindus resident in Portugal, distributed around
Coimbra, Oporto and Lisbon, although it is in the capital—Lisbon—that the
great majority congregate, in particular geographic areas. It was in one of
these places of Hindu spatial concentration that the ethnographic research
project that forms the base of this case under study was carried out: the district
of Santo António dos Cavaleiros.
The methodology applied throughout the extended fieldwork was that
of participant observation, which involved participation in various religious
events, in public and private spaces, and informal interviews carried out with
a broad selection of women belonging to the community under study. This
fieldwork was undertaken in Portugal, the United Kingdom and India, accom-
panying the transnational movement of the informants. The Indian population
began to settle in Portugal at the end of the 1970s,3 during the postindependence
period of the former Portuguese colonies in Africa, with particular emphasis
on Mozambique. The vast majority of Indians established in Portugal started
a process of migration from India in the seventeenth century, particularly from
the state of Gujarat, to Mozambique.4 This population can be divided into
Hindus, Muslims—both Sunni and Ishmaelite—and some Christians. The
Hindus reproduced the spatial congregation strategies that they had initiated
in Mozambique throughout the process of establishment and of concentration
in specific areas of the Portuguese territory, mainly in Lisbon.
In the early 1980s, there was a substantial intensification of the arrival
of Hindus to Portugal. In addition to this immigration, which is directly
related to trajectories resulting from a distant Portuguese colonial process,
in the 1990s Hindus coming directly from Gujarat lengthened the process of
migration started in the previous two decades.5
The Hindu community living in Santo António dos Cavaleiros is very
heterogeneous at social, economic and cultural levels. Professionally, despite
The ethnographic example that I shall present now focuses on the perspec-
tive of the women who have become members of the Brahma Kumaris spiri-
tual movement in Portugal, based on a research undertaken in two centers
located in the city of Lisbon.
The empirical material is based on the collection of the statements of
women through informal interviews that particularly relate to personal
experiences associated with the spirituality experienced in this movement.
In this way, I tried to understand the processes of redefinition of gender
roles vis-à-vis the dominant social and family female standards in order to
identify new gender identities and new forms of power.
The foundation of this community in Portugal dates back to 1986. In
1998 they were attributed the status of a public utility institution by the
Portuguese state. Distributed around various schools in various cities and
towns in the country, this organization organizes workshops, conferences
and Raja Yoga introductory courses, with the aim of helping individuals to
find practical spirituality that improves personal performance and promotes
self-transformation in order to create a peaceful and harmonious world.
According to Paul Heelas, the main difference between religion and spiri-
tuality resides in the fact that the first implies a relationship of obedience
in relation to a hierarchical authority, while the latter views the sacred as a
means of improving the internal lives of the devotees.29 This case study is
consistent with Heelas’s proposal since Brahma Kumaris philosophy allows
the development of a deep spirituality through meditations that seek to facil-
itate the individual in discovering his or her true identity.
In this process of self-discovery, the individual constructs his journey on
his own, centered on himself, based on the principle that only after improving
himself can he contribute to improving the world. In this case, the ethno-
graphic data fits with the typology of Heelas; the autonomy and individuality
offered by the spirituality may be, according to this author, the basis of the
process of the replacement of the traditional and institutionalized religions
with spiritual holistic alternatives.30
Theoretically the distinction between religion and spirituality may be
summarized this way: while the first implies a process of institutionalization,
supported by relations of power, based on doctrines, theologies and rituals,
the second prioritizes individual and intimate processes that are opposed
to conformity among the group of members of a specific religion.31 Thus,
religious individualism and the authority located in the inner self promoted
At the centers in Portugal and all over the world, the majority of us
are mothers. Because mothers know everything. And when they make
decisions it is because they know, not because they are told. A spiritual
mother knows what she is doing and knows the submission that she had
and why she had it. It was a conscious submission. It is not a question
of devotion or vocation; it is related to the heart, with the feeling that
comes from the soul. You like to be an instrument to give birth, to give
life, because the soul is life and sometimes we are lifeless. If we are under
the influence of negative forces what will become of our lives? . . . I can
be an instrument for the light of God to flow and bring new conscious-
ness to those who are unconscious.
In the same way, the life of the Brahma Kumaris philosophy in Poland
reveals motherhood as a female identity that goes beyond the biological
fact of being a mother, stretching to, as well as daily family obligations, a
process of spiritual purification that generates new forms of female identi-
ties: “Gradually women redefine their roles as wives and mothers. A new
way of motherhood is practiced—spiritual motherhood, which goes beyond
nuclear family and kinship network. All maternal obligations and skills,
like feeding, nurturing, loving and many others, are used to serve global
family”.43
As the Portuguese case suggests, the idea of service to this global fam-
ily—the unknowing souls of the entire world who need to be nourished
with knowledge—contributes to the intensification of self-esteem and self-
realization of women, at the same time as it generates new forms of female
identity and agency.
According to another woman who follows this philosophy, women also
find a source of internal strength and personal realization in this form of
spirituality. The female and maternal character is reinforced by the murli,44
where you can read: “Greetings to the mothers! You, children, should place
I discovered that God exists and God is a reality in my life, just like
breathing for my body, and without this energy I cannot live. It is a
question of the relationship of you counting on a Being who listens, who
knows you, who is your companion, you share your life with, you are
understood and loved, and when this happens, self-realization is there
and life has its true value for you.
CONCLUSION
The two ethnographic cases analyzed present different strategies with dif-
ferent objectives but with a common rhetoric, characterized by two central
topics: motherhood and service.
As we have seen, the functions of the Hindu women of Santo António dos
Cavaleiros go far beyond the family and domestic circle. The stridharma has
been expanded to religious performance and transmission and to responsi-
bility for the survival not only of the family but also of the entire group: “it is
our seva (service). Seva is also our dharma.46 We must continue it”, explain
the women of the satsang group when I ask them why they have this task as
their mission. In the same way, the Brahma Kumari women take on service
to the global family as their mission, transcending the female tasks of the
family circle to arrive at a universal context in the sense of serving souls and
nourishing them with the light of knowledge.
In this sense, motherhood takes on a central importance. In the case of
the Hindu women of Santo António dos Cavaleiros, the values associated
NOTES
Between 1999 and 2002 I carried out various stints of fieldwork in net-
works of people who call themselves ‘spiritual’ in the Netherlands. The first
period of fieldwork (lasting six months) was with the visitors of a spiritual-
ist medium, called Jomanda.13 In the 1990s, she used to attract thousands
of people to her ‘healing services’. During these services, she claimed that
‘the other side’ could work through her and perform operations on people.
The hope for a miraculous healing earned her much scorn in the national
media, but also great popularity among a particular public. A survey con-
ducted with a fellow student showed that many people in her public were
of a Catholic background, the majority consisted of women and many had
only minimal schooling (only primary school or only a few years of second-
ary school). Although the media depicted these people as gullible fools, the
life history interviews that we conducted with regular visitors showed that
they felt empowered by what they learned through attending the healing
services.14
From 2001 until 2002 I participated in a so-called ‘spiritual society’ in
the south of the Netherlands.15 Before she became famous, Jomanda used to
tour these spiritual societies as a medium. One of the ethnographic vignettes
offered here analyzes another of these mediums, not quite so popular or
famous as Jomanda used to be, but nevertheless someone who was known
and respected within the network of spiritual societies, psychics, mediums,
magnetists and seekers.
One can find these spiritual societies all over the Netherlands, often the
heirs of the spiritualist societies established in the nineteenth century when
spiritualism became popular among the upper classes.16 The founders of
these societies were dedicated to the research of paranormal phenomena.
Present-day members, in contrast, usually gather to teach each other about
paranormal phenomena, or to practice their powers of paranormal per-
ception and healing. Nowadays, one can still recognize spiritualism as the
underlying discourse of the practices in these societies, although they are
open to anything that is related to spirituality, esotericism and healing.17
The spiritual society where I did my fieldwork prided itself on being very
‘free’ and open. This was in contrast not only to ‘the church’, which was
routinely criticized as being stuck in dogma and empty rituals, spiritually
unaware and oppressing, but also to other spiritual societies in the region,
which are usually organized around a particular medium. The abuse of
power by mediums was a topic often discussed by people at the bar, after the
regular meeting of the spiritual society was over. In interviews people told
me their personal experiences in groups with mediums who were so manipu-
lative that they broke up people’s marriages, estranged children from their
parents and in other ways ‘preyed’ upon weak people by forcing them to cut
their social and emotional ties to people because these were seen as ‘holding
them back’ and not supportive of their spiritual growth. Because these medi-
ums claimed to have a direct link to the ‘beyond’, these pronouncements
carried great weight with people. These groups often operated in secret,
because of the disapproval they expected to meet within the Catholic south
of the Netherlands. It was only when spirituality became more ‘mainstream’
and less secretive, since the early 1990s, that people were able to explore
themes around spirituality in a freer and more individualistic manner and
start rejecting the interference of ‘power-mad’ mediums in their lives.
This was the background against which this society was formed by its cur-
rent informal leader. She wanted to work very differently, and did not claim
to have any paranormal abilities herself. Rather, she made a point of not
claiming any special abilities, and she was quite motherly in her demeanor
to people, saying that everybody has his own path; we should not judge each
other. And of course, men and women should feel free to develop themselves
equally and in partnership.
The society organized different types of events, characterized as ‘open’
(anybody who was interested was free to come) and ‘closed’ (members only).
The open nights often consisted of a lecture, a séance with a medium, or a ses-
sion with a psychic who would pick out members from the audience and give
them messages or advice based on what they saw paranormally—for example,
in someone’s aura.18 Evenings with a psychic or medium were especially popu-
lar, although some lectures also drew quite a crowd, depending on the topic.
During the closed nights, the idea was that members trained each other
in developing their paranormal abilities. For example, one closed night we
had a series of workshops by members. Everybody had been asked to bring
something, or to choose a skill he or she wanted to teach someone else. A
few persons, known psychics or other kinds of experts, were asked to give
plenary workshops. In the first workshop everybody was guided to draw
a clown and this drawing was then interpreted by a psychic. In the second
workshop, someone demonstrated a dream interpretation, for which I vol-
unteered to tell a dream. After this, someone demonstrated a ‘family con-
As usual, people went to the bar to have a drink and chat after the main
event of the night, which had been a sound healing. There was a newcomer
who stayed on with the regulars: Beth23 and her husband, Jeff; an herbalist
and dream interpreter with her husband and a friend of theirs; and a silent
lady of Indonesian background with her daughter.
It became clear that the newcomer needed to talk. He told us that his wife
died recently, but that he had received two messages via the medium Maria
Bemelmans. He asked about the other associations in the area, and if those
mediums were any good. There was the usual veiled discussion, with the
people ‘in the know’ implying that they did not want to make any explicit
statements, while making it clear they did not approve of those associations
because this or that medium was power-mad, or charged people for every-
thing or only tapped into the ‘lower astral sphere’.24
The stranger then introduced the subject of ‘out of body experiences’,
saying he had been experimenting with them. This received a lot of disap-
proving attention: ‘You have to be careful not to get lost due to your fascina-
tion with the paranormal’. Beth admonished him:
It’s the spiritual that counts, not all those nice little miracles. That’s the
problem with those people who just come to the séances and never come
to a lecture; they just want a message from the other side, thinking that
will solve all their problems, or to experience something spectacular.
The talk went on like this for a while, with the other regulars agreeing in
their disapproval of this passive and sensationalist attitude.
Just look at it from an esoteric point of view! That addict wasn’t living
next to you by accident! Apparently, the two of you had something to
teach each other. You can’t say for him what his lesson should be. But
you can say for yourself: ok, I will figure out why this is happening—I
will learn the lesson in it.
Why do babies inexplicably die in their cribs? Because that soul had
to finish a lesson before going back to the Light. And the parents and
grandparents of that baby also had to learn a lesson. If you understand
that, everything becomes much clearer. Why did Hitler exist, why was
Pim Fortuyn shot?25 There is always a perpetrator and a victim. Look,
my son was eighteen when he died. He went on a holiday for the first
time without us, with a friend. Three days after he left, a drunken driver
ran him over and killed him. Well, I can tell you, you think of every pos-
sible way to avenge. I was so angry that I thought: I will send that man a
postcard every single day with the message: “This postcard was sent to
you by the mother of the boy you killed”. But it doesn’t work like that.
Without Judas, there would not have been a Jesus. Every human was
meant to be, was meant to exist and live the life he lives. That insight
was the start of my spiritual development.
After Beth’s tale of grief, which certainly equaled his own, the stranger was
apparently properly chastened and the talking relaxed.
The unwritten rules of interpretation in these circles do not allow for clas-
sifying things in terms of absolute good and evil, or for ‘spirit guides’ that
argue. The stranger tried to find ‘spiritual’ support for his emotional churn-
ings, but was instead quite severely reprimanded for thinking in the wrong
way. The fundamentals were very clearly outlined and applied: people are
here to learn a lesson and progress spiritually throughout the cycles of rein-
carnation. Everybody you meet, everything that happens, is part of a larger
pattern. Other religious repertoires can be drawn on to fit into this frame-
work. For example, the wisdom of the gospels and the resurrection of Christ
are deemed very important, but do not exclude a belief in reincarnation and
in other ‘masters’, who can be equal in importance to Jesus: during another
session a medium transmitted messages from ‘master Morya’ to every per-
son present. Master Morya was described as a very high ‘intelligence’ who,
among others, had incarnated as the Moses of the Old Testament. Blavatsky
also claimed to receive messages from a ‘master Morya’. According to her,
he was one of the ‘masters of the Himalaya’ who helped her formulate the-
osophy. Supposedly, the Morya whose messages were transmitted during
one of the evenings of this association and the Morya of Blavatsky are one
and the same.26
Within this framework, all the sources of wisdom in the world can be
translated to refer to the same universal reality, which can be known and
understood by developing spiritually. Of other, less inclusive religions or
ideologies members would say, shaking their heads with pity, “They are
In the foregoing ethnographic vignette, the stranger was brought in line and
accepted the authority of the informal leader and her supporters as people
who were apparently more knowledgeable on spiritual matters than he. On
another occasion, however, the propagated interpretational framework was
not accepted by the person to whom it was applied. Interestingly, the rea-
sons why she did not accept this framework had everything to do with her
embodiment of traditional gender roles.
It was again a Wednesday evening. When I arrived, the meeting had
already started. I found a seat at the back, careful not to disturb anyone.
There were about forty people present, men and women, many couples. In
front, the leader of the night’s event was telling the audience what he was
going to do: some people would be invited to sit on a chair in front of the
audience.
I warn you, it will not be spectacular. But you will hear from these
people after their treatment that what they have experienced goes very
deep. The audience will only see them sitting still, while I pass my hands
around their bodies to unblock their energies. Sometimes I whisper
something in their ears.
He stopped to talk to one woman and she opened her eyes (the others
remained seated with their eyes closed). He commented that she probably
did not feel so much, because she couldn’t let go of her thoughts to “return
You are a very levelheaded person but you should learn to love yourself
more. You have been raised with a heavy emphasis on doing your duty,
but you have to learn to arrange you own priorities. Maybe at first
people will be a bit angry when you say no to their requests, but they
will not mind later on, and come to understand.
She nodded, and confirmed his description of how she was raised. But
when he told her she should give more weight to her own priorities, she
protested, “I thought I was doing that already!” “Perhaps, but you still take
other people’s needs more seriously than your own”.
He then turned to another woman, someone that I had not seen before.
First he told her that she was a very good person, always doing everything
she could for other people. “But you don’t get the gratitude you think you
deserve. And that is painful for you”. At this, she almost burst out in tears
and just nodded her head. Then, he told her that the only way to deal with
this was to learn how to give without expecting anything in return. She
protested indignantly that she did not expect anything in return. He tried
again, saying that she obviously did, because she felt hurt by the ingratitude
of people, but she refused to accept this interpretation of her feelings, and
she returned to her friends in the audience feeling offended.
What happened here? Contemporary spirituality is often criticized for
being obsessed with the self.27 Yet here a woman who clearly lived for other
people was criticized for being selfish, and told to give without expecting
anything in return! This was not an isolated incident: many times before,
I had heard women being criticized for being over-caring, suffocating their
children and loved ones by worrying too much about them. They were told
that this was a form of selfishness. Often, these ideas were repeated and
applied during the informal conversations after the ‘official’ meetings, like
the one described earlier. This same medium advised us during the meeting
that before going to sleep at night, we should put a hand on the lower part
of the stomach, where the emotions having to do with the ‘care for the self’
are seated. In this way, he said, he was able to sleep like a baby every night
while his wife was lying awake next to him. Over-caring and not caring for
the self are clearly related to each other in this framework. How can we
understand this?
In the south of the Netherlands, where this fieldwork took place, a strong
Catholic ethos prevails that particularly focuses on the role and sexuality of
women. The pre–Vatican II Catholic church strongly encouraged women
to sacrifice their own well-being for the well-being of their family, never
showing fatigue or chagrin, to be the ‘angel in the home’.28 In fact, birth
CONCLUSION
The descriptions in this chapter reveal how the working of power and gen-
dering is both consciously acted on and obscured in circles that formally
detest hierarchies and reject traditional gender roles. The first ethnographic
vignette shows that despite the diffuse appearance of the practices and the
myriad interpretational directions taken during the meetings of the spiritual
society, there are in fact quite strict boundaries that are immediately enforced
whenever someone breaks the unwritten rules for interpretation. Power is
inscribed within the knowledge assimilated via participating in these circles,
applied to newcomers. The only way that the authority exercised in these
situations can be ‘non-formative’ is if the person decides to stay away (and
of course, this is always possible). The second ethnographic vignette shows
how the discourses and practices that are presented to ‘empower’ women
while helping them to reconcile conflicting roles in society result in the dis-
empowerment of other ways of being a woman that emerged out of a soci-
etal order now defunct.
In the introduction I outlined two areas of paradox in which processes
of power and gendering are both revealed and consciously acted on, and
obscured: (1) while spiritual practitioners attempt to act critically on the
gendered hierarchies of society in general and crusty ‘religion’ in particular,
they are often blind to the processes involving power and gendering in their
own groups. And (2) while spiritual practitioners are working on their own
‘bodily hexis’, and thus seem to belie Bourdieu’s conceptualization of bodily
hexis as something that eludes our consciousness, the ways in which even
this very work on the self reconciles people with their position in society
remain hidden from view.
With regard to the first area, we may conclude that the obscuring of
processes involving power and gendering is accomplished mainly through
the displacement of critique onto other groups. This may account for the
numerous fissions that take place within these networks. With regard to the
second area of paradox, the conclusions of this chapter are more specula-
tive. As we saw, the medium encourages women to work on themselves, via
bodily techniques such as laying a hand on the chakra of self-love. Clearly,
this is intended to work on the bodily hexis, the very ways in which we
NOTES
1. E.g., Cynthia Eller, Living in the Lap of the Goddess: The Feminist Spiritual-
ity Movement in America (New York: Crossroad, 1993); Sabina Magliocco,
Witching Culture: Folklore and Neo-paganism in America (Philadelphia:
University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004); Sarah M. Pike, Earthly Bodies,
Magical Selves: Contemporary Pagans and the Search for Community
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001); Åsa Trulsson, Cultivating
the Sacred: Ritual Creativity and Practice among Women in Contemporary
Europe, Lund Studies in the History of Religions 28 (Lund: Lund Univer-
sity, 2010); Jone Salomonsen, Enchanted Feminism: Ritual, Gender and
Divinity among the Reclaiming Witches of San Francisco (London: Rout-
ledge, 2002); Tanya M. Luhrmann, Persuasions of the Witch’s Craft: Ritual
Magic in Contemporary England (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press, 1989).
2. David Voas and Steve Bruce, “The Spiritual Revolution: Another False
Dawn for the Sacred”, in A Sociology of Spirituality, ed. Kieran Flanagan
and Peter C. Jupp (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2009), 43.
3. Stef Aupers and Dick Houtman, Religions of Modernity: Relocating the
Sacred to the Self and the Digital (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 10.
4. Kim Esther Knibbe, Faith in the Familiar (Leiden: Brill, 2013), chap. 1.
5. Clifford Geertz, The Interpretation of Cultures: Selected Essays (New York:
Basic Books, 1973).
6. E.g., Jean Comaroff and John L. Comaroff, Of Revelation and Revolu-
tion: Christianity, Colonialism, and Consciousness in South Africa (Chi-
cago: University of Chicago Press, 1991); Michael Taussig, “The Genesis
of Capitalism amongst a South American Peasantry: Devil’s Labor and the
Baptism of Money”, Comparative Studies in Society and History 19, no. 02
(1977): 130–155.
7. Sherry B. Ortner, Anthropology and Social Theory: Culture, Power, and the
Acting Subject (Durham: Duke University Press, 2006).
8. E.g., Jonathan Xavier Inda, Anthropologies of Modernity: Foucault, Gov-
ernmentality, and Life Politics (Malden: Blackwell, 2005).
9. See Courtney Bender, The New Metaphysicals: Spirituality and the Ameri-
can Religious Imagination (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010) on
an analysis of how ‘relaxing’ is in fact hard work.
In the 1990s, many cities and towns in the northeastern Mexican states of
Coahuila, Nuevo León and Tamaulipas became important sites in the net-
works of entrepreneurs that move cocaine and other drugs through Mexico
into the United States, and to expand their networks, drug traffickers cul-
tivated alliances with officials in government agencies across the region.8
As the supply of cocaine in Mexico increased, drug traffickers began to
distribute and to sell crack cocaine in Monterrey and cities along the border.
After the inauguration of President Felipe Calderón in 2006, the military
and other federal forces—with logistical and monetary support from the
US government—assumed a greater role in the disruption of drug traffick-
ing networks. Mexican federal forces have made their presence felt in the
Northeast by patrolling public spaces in heavily armed groups, setting up
checkpoints on roads, and carrying out raids of homes and businesses. In
Over where I live, I would like for you to see the scenes that I see, kids,
thirteen, fourteen years old, in their gang, and the things that they do in
front of everyone. The kids don’t have any dignity, and their mothers,
well, who knows? I always ask God to take care of them, now more
than ever, with things how they are, because people don’t have the fear
of God anymore.
The behavior of young men in gangs and many other violent aspects
related to the drug wars can be considered extreme forms of “machismo”,
a set of “traditional” expectations about how Mexican men should behave
The men residing in the center during any given week varied, in terms of
their symptomatologies, personalities, aptitudes and commitments to the
program, as well as in other respects. Most of the residents were young
single men who wrestled with an addiction to cocaine or crack, or older
married men who sought treatment for either alcoholism or addiction to
cocaine. Other residents were adolescents, and some of the residents arrived
to the center from the poorest neighborhoods in the metropolitan area. The
drug problems that afflicted adolescents and poorer families the most were
inhalant abuse and alcoholism.
Despite the diversity of the residents, they all received the same treatment,
and were expected to comply fully with the discipline and routines of the
center. Even though they occasionally recognized differences in age, class,
ethnicity and religion, the center’s administrators subjected residents to the
same treatment because, as the director repeatedly noted, the “sickness was
the same”. The widespread acceptance that the “sickness was the same” not
only ensured equal treatment of all residents, but also provided the basis for
the consistent use of discourse among residents that reinforced hegemonic
masculinity. This discourse bolstered traditional expectations about how
men should behave in order to be successful and respected, and thereby per-
mitted very little variation in the ways in which a resident achieved control
over his body and engaged in interactions with other men in the center.
One of the features of this discourse that marked the center as a set of
spaces created by men for men was verbal aggressiveness, including bouts of
shouting and vulgar expressions. Shouting and the use of vulgar expressions
or “expletives” are more often associated with men than with women, and as
a result, serve as “symbols of masculinity” that reinforce gender divisions.22
To take one of the least offensive and most significant examples of this linguis-
tic behavior, men in the center made use of a variety of vulgar expressions that
incorporated references to testicles (huevos). They informed other residents
that they could no longer follow the ley de los huevos (the law of their tes-
ticles), or the custom of doing whatever they wanted without regard to anyone
else, and, resorting to a different configuration of the term, the men in the
center also frequently affirmed that they must commit to abstinence a huevo
(by the testicle), an expression suggesting that there was no other option.
Although verbal aggressiveness is considered appropriate for men and
expected from men in certain contexts within Mexico, this kind of talk was
put to new uses inside the center. Men often discovered this fact on their first
day of entering the center. After passing through a brief period of evaluation
by the center’s administrators, the residents who had recently arrived took
CONCLUSION
NOTES
AuQ2 Page 227 Can you provide a given name for Starhawk? Or is
this the complete name?
Victoria Hegner received her PhD from the Institute for European Ethnol-
ogy at the Humboldt University of Berlin. Her urban ethnographic thesis
focused on the recent Russian Jewish migration to Chicago and Berlin.
Since 2009 she has worked as a senior lecturer at the Institute for Cultural
Anthropology/European Ethnology at the University of Göttingen. Since
April 2012 she has been the head of the research project called Neopagan
Witchcraft within the Urban Context (exemplary site Berlin), funded by
the German Research Association, at the Institute for Cultural Anthro-
pology/European Ethnology, University of Göttingen.
Eugenia Roussou received her PhD from University College London in 2010.
She has conducted extensive ethnographic research on the amalgamation
of religion and spirituality in the context of everyday ritual practice in
Greece. She is currently a postdoctoral researcher at CRIA/FCSH, New
University of Lisbon, where she is working on ‘New Age’ spiritualities,
religious pluralism and spiritual creativity in present-day Lisbon.