Between Christianity and Costumbre:

Religious Syncretism and Resistance in Latin America

Lenore Maier

10336347

History 271

14Mar13

Instructor: Marie-Christine Dugal

Indigenous peoples all over Latin America have been exploited and victimized by

the unfettered weights of colonial endeavors since the arrival of the conquistadors in the

late fifteenth century. For over five hundred years these groups of people, although

unique in their beliefs and traditions, have shown interesting similarities in their abilities

to maintain centuries old practices through very innovative and unconventional ways.

Since the arrival of Europeans in Latin America, there has been a seemingly

merciless, colonial campaign to quell all things indigenous through the use of coercion.

Colonialism in Latin America utilized Christianity, more specifically roman

Catholicism, as a paramount tool in the conquest of the New World. Indigenous people

were required by Spanish law through the requerimiento to abandon their ancient

religious beliefs and practices, and embrace Christianity. In the years to follow,

Catholicism and costumbre, that is, the embodiment of ancient tradition and customs,

engaged in a centuries long confrontation that still continues today. The results were

quite remarkable. In the context of Latin America, fusions of religious syncretism

emerged, effectively blending elements of both Christianity and costumbre. In turn, these

religious syntheses enabled the continuity of indigenous religious practice, while

providing a sense of contentment within the catholic mission that the church had become

the new religious hegemon.

In reality, there are many case studies of religious syncretism in Latin America

that have fostered the identity and religious autonomy of indigenous people. By adopting

elements of Catholicism into indigenous practices, indigenous groups, to a significant

degree, effectively slowed the fervent nature of the Christian mission.

Indigenous groups were able to incorporate elements of Christianity into local religions,

instead of abandoning their beliefs altogether. On the surface, these groups may now

appear to be Christian, but upon further inquiry, it is evident that there is much more to

Catholicism in the Latin American context. In reality, syncretism in Latin America has

2

created a religious strata, in which elements of both Christianity and costumbre each

come to the fore at different times.

Firstly, this essay seeks to explain the misconceptions and contemporary

academic understandings surrounding religious syncretism. Secondly, those

understandings will be applied to three different case studies: The case of El Tío in the

highlands of Bolivia and Peru, the deity of Maximón in El Santiago de Atitlan in

Guatemala, and finally El Virgen de Guadalupe in Mexico. Lastly, but perhaps most

importantly, this essay will seek to demonstrate the stoic tenacity of the Latin American

spirit through the preservation of indigenous costumbre in religious syncretism. In

addition, it will support the idea that by replacing certain elements of pre-Colombian

religions with those of catholic origin, indigenous groups have in reality, managed to

save and maintain significant elements of their spiritual traditions by practicing them

under the guise of Christianity.

Religious syncretism has become a highly debated and quite controversial topic

in religious studies.1 Such a disputative nature may stem from our constructed

understandings of the term. Religious syncretism, according to Leopold and Jensen, is a

term that incorporates the blending of, or mixing of origins.2 They also note that

syncretism and our ways of understanding such, reveal much in the way of how we come

to identify relationships of kinship and foreign entities as well. To draw on these

aforementioned ideas, anthropologist Pascal Boyer “observes how people believe that

kinship refers to a special kind of ‘essence’ shared by people with a common

genealogy.”3 Similarly, anthropologist Larry Hirschfeld denotes the concept of “naive

sociology” in which we as humans tend to understand each social groups as naturally

different from one another.4 These ideas can help us to understand the often contested and 1 Anita Maria Leopold and Jeppe Sinding Jensen, “Syncretism in Religion: A Reader” (London: Equinox Publishing Ltd., 2004), 3.

2 Ibid, 2.3 Ibid, 3.4 Ibid.

3

debated nature of religious syncretism . The traditional understandings of syncretism are

more ‘cut and dry’ than reality may suggest. The very existence and embodiment of

religious syncretism in action contradicts traditional western understandings of religious

“purity”. Therefore, it is essential to view religious syncretism from outside of a

“pure/impure” context, to gain a better understanding of its depth. In other words,

syncretism embodies elements of struggle and negotiation, rather than contamination in

the transmission of religion.5

These arguments suggest that through an anthropological lens,

we must be critical of our own subliminal understanding of syncretism. Such a

consciousness is useful, and may perhaps foster a new understanding in the analysis of

religious syncretism in Latin America.

The mezcla, or mixing, of religions in Bolivia has had some very interesting

culminations with regards to the struggles of religious syncretism. The religious “strata”

in Bolivia exists in an amazing dichotomy of geography. On the ground, the catholic

church has roots that have been planted for over five hundred years. The country is

predominantly roman catholic, (although the number of people who attend mass is far

smaller).6 However, deep in the tin mines of the Andean spine, there exists another

spiritual icon, which is literally out of view from the watch of the catholic church.

For centuries, indigenous Bolivians have been forced to extract silver, and later

tin, out of the Andean cordillera, at the hand of European colonialism.

The Andes have housed some of the world’s most intriguing civilizations,

all of whom held a deep, spiritual relationship with the surrounding mountains, and

understood them to be the dwelling places of the gods.7 Descendants of the grand Inca

empire, the Quechua and Aymara people of the Andes have for centuries, held a very 5 Ibid, 2.6 U.S. Department of State: Diplomacy in Action. “Bolivia,” http://www.state.gov/j/drl/rls/irf/2006/71450.htm

7 Ibid, 338.

4

strong, spiritual relationship with Pachamama, or Earth Mother.8

With the coming of Catholicism from Europe, sacred mountain places such as El

Cerro Rico in Bolivia were pillaged of material wealth, and a catholic church erected at

its base. The colonial expansion of silver and tin mining in this region had a profound

and devastating effect on indigenous costumbre, and as such, new spiritual practices

developed in the mine itself.

In an unofficial response to the weighted impression of Catholicism, a somewhat

opposing deity has emerged in the mines. Known affectionately as El Tío, or The Uncle,

he is present in virtually every mine in Bolivia and Peru.

“Dawning a “chalky personage with moustache and large eyes, his mouth agape, nostrils blackened from cigarette smoke, and

his body is covered with various adornments. He is seated on a throne, his hands extended to receive offerings, his knees bent and feet enclosed in rubber mining boots. He displays a large erect penis, a reminder of his virility. The tunnels of the mines are his kingdom.”9

El Tío is a symbol of many things. He brings harm, but he also brings protection

to the workers in the mines. He is the devil, although he is never referred to as such.10 El

Tío is honoured through offerings and homage, similar to the ancient practices which

glorified Pachamama through indistinguishable means. Anthropologist and Historian,

Heraclio Bonilla explains the methodic variation of offerings to El Tío:

On Tuesday and Friday the miners offer coca leaves, hand-rolled cigarettes, and bottles of white rum to slake the Tio’s thirst.

Furthermore, each carnival Tuesday the miners perform cha’alla in the mine, soaking the earth around the

Tio with chicha (Andean corn-based beer), rum, or beer, lacing his neck with confetti garlands, and placing food and

8 Heraclio Bonilla, “Religious Practices in the Andes and Their Relevance to Political Struggle and Development: The Case of El Tío and Miners in Bolivia,” Mountain Research and Development, Vol. 26, No. 4, Religion and Sacredness in Mountains: A Historical Perspective (2006), 336.

9 Ibid, 336.10 Ibid.

5

drink all around his throne. Additionally, in August comes the toast of k’araku, a sacrificial offering of a llama or alpaca whose blood is splashed on the threshold and walls of the mine.11

El Tío emerges from the mines only once a year, during the famed festival of

Carnival, in which he is disguised as Lucifer so that he may dance with the other

demons.12 While El Tío is underground, he wears no disguise. For the mine is his mask,

inside which he becomes the tangible indigenous manifestation of ancient Inca

costumbre. It is when he emerges to the world above, where Catholicism thrives, when he

must be disguised as Lucifer, the Catholic epitome of evil. The symbolism in the scenario

is remarkable, and the seemingly obvious dismissal of traditional Christianity serves as a

blatant and rather “tongue in cheek” demonstration of the indigenous autonomy of

costumbre.

The deity of El Tío is found all throughout the major mines in Bolivia, in addition

to many more in Peru. However, in the Peruvian context, instead of El Tío, he is given

the Quechua name of muqui.13

The geographic strata of religion in the Andean region of South America is

ripe with elements of both Christianity and Costumbre. The apparent dominance of

Catholicism shifts to subservience upon entrance in the mines. In the netherworld of the

Andes, exists what great Peruvian thinker Jose Mariátegui called the “mythic core of

humankind”, which is paramount to a metaphysical conception of life.14

It is here in the sub-regions of the Andes where the Bolivian miners revitalized

another spiritual world for themselves. While above ground, El Tío garners minimal

power, and is replaced by the strong colonial influence of Catholicism. Upon entry into

the mines though, El Tío or muqui reigns supreme over the most powerful catholic

notion. It is here where the fantastic divide between two religions occurs. In a religiously

11 Ibid.12 Ibid.13 Ibid.14 Ibid, 341.

6

syncretic display, the mining regions of Bolivia and Peru appear at first to be plainly

catholic, but inside the mountain mines, where ancient gods live, there still exists a deity

named El Tío who rules in a world apart from Christianity.

Religion as a form of resistance in the Andean context is a testament to both a

political struggle, and a struggle to maintain autonomy with regards to identity and

customs. The perseverance of El Tío serves as a powerful example of resistance

through religion.

Further north in the highlands of Guatemala, another syncretic deity emerged

in response to an overtly coercive catholic mission. The figure of Maximon sits proudly

in the lake town of San Andres on the shores of El Lago de Atitlan.

“Maximon is basically a flat piece of wood about two and a half feet high and six to eight inches thick. A little jar or

enameled iron cup is strapped to the top end and contains the base of another piece of wood, or possibly a gourd, which

forms the core of the head. At the bottom end, two jars contain the wooden legs.”15

The immediate visualization seems less than impressive. However, Maximon is

most comfortable adorned and dressed in offerings. During fiestas, Maximon is covered

in numerous sets of clothing, and he emerges as “four and a half feet tall, clothed in shirt,

pants and belt of the local Atiteco style, plus a Texan 55-size hat, a blue serge jacket and

a bib made of some thirty silk scarves.16

Through such a veneration, Maximon becomes a deity that is half new/half old,

half Christian/half Costumbre. Maximon was born in the cofradia system, which was

originally a European creation, built as a means of organizing and supervising newly

converted indigenous catholics. Indeed, the cofradias eventually became a rather

unsuspecting place for the revitalization of ancient Mayan beliefs and practices. The

cofradia itself serves as a vehicle for both Christianity and Costumbre, as it has fostered

15Michael E. Mendelson, “Maximon: An Iconographical Introduction”. Royal Anthropological Institute of Britain and Ireland, Vol. 59 (1959), 57.

16 Ibid.

7

the development of two different religions, often at the same time. Maximon resides in

the cofradia Santa Cruz, “where all who enter cross themselves under the light of large

standing candles,”17 which are predominantly catholic elements of worship.

One particularly curious addition to the syncretic nature of Maximon is

surrounded in myth and uncertainty. Mendelson attests to the rumour that at his core,

Maximon “contains a small idol which cannot be checked: some speak of a gold or silver

figure, pagan or Christian, others of a silver cross, one man of an ear of corn.”18

Such uncertainty towards the essence of Maximon’s “core” demonstrates the

indigenous disavowal of the importance of Maximon’s origin, towards which Christianity

is so inclined. Instead, the uncertain mystery serves as more of an animistic power than

one of impurity or religious illegitimacy.

Maximon is very similar to the ancient Mayan deity Mam, who has through time,

become associated with Holy Week.19 With striking similarity, the ancient Mayans

“had a piece of wood, which they dressed like those figures of boys made of straw that are used in bullfights and placed

on a stool on a mat. They gave him food and gifts during the feast known as Vayeyab. When the feast was finished they

undressed the idol and threw the piece of wood on the ground without troubling to reverence it anymore.”20

In addition, Maximon also bears symbolic resemblance to Jesus Christ as well. He

is known as a traveler or walker, and also has a “whore wife” named Maria, or

Magdalena Castellana,21 which echoes an almost identical relationship between Mary

Magdalene and Jesus from the New Testament Bible.

Maximon’s moniker is naturally syncretic as well. Although it too, is subject to

regular confusion, any outcome is still religiously syncretic. Maximon is commonly

understood as a blend of Mam-Shimon: Mam referring to the aforementioned ancient

17 Ibid.18 Ibid.19 Ibid.20 Ibid.21 Ibid.

8

Mayan deity meaning “old man”, and Shimon referring to one of two Simons from the

catholic New Testament.22 The first possibility is the apostle and betrayer of Jesus, Simon

Judas. The second is Jesus’ apostle Simon Peter, more often referred to as Peter.23 Such

associations with Jesus’ apostles explain the common reference to Maximon as Primer

Apostol,24 or First Apostle of Jesus.

During the catholic Holy Week, Maximon is celebrated not in place of, but

alongside Jesus Christ during Lent.25 Such an occurrence serves as an example of

religious syncretism whereby two icons are openly celebrated in the same act of

glorification . This can be seen two different ways, albeit both religiously syncretic: On

one hand, one can view it as the emergence of polytheistic Catholicism, where Jesus and

Maximon share the devotion of their followers. On the other hand, this scenario can

alternatively be seen as the addition or incorporation of Jesus Christ into ancient, and

already polytheistic Mayan beliefs rituals.

The creation and embrace of Maximon in Guatemala was a culmination of

centuries of political and religious struggle for indigenous identity. As a response to the

coercive nature of religious conversion in colonial Latin America, indigenous peoples

found innovative ways to worship the ancient deity of Mam within the framework of

Catholicism. Through time, elements of Christianity and Mayan customs blended, and

Maximon emerged as result. The emergence of Maximon is neither proof of defeat nor

victory for either religion. Alternatively, he is an effective tool of resistance in a five

hundred year struggle to maintain religious autonomy and Mayan identity.

Another example of Religious syncretism emerged in Mexico, just north of the

capital on December 8, 1531, on the hill of Tepeyacac (now Tepeyac).26 According to

22 Ibid, 5923 Ibid.24 Ibid.25 Ibid, 58.26Jeanette Favrot Peterson. “The Virgin of Guadalupe: Symbol of Conquest or Liberation?” Art Journal, Vol. 51, No. 4, Latin American Art (1992), 39.

9

history,

“The Virgin Mary appeared to a newly Christianized native, whose baptismal name was Juan Diego. Using the Aztec

language of Nahuatl, the Virgin asked that a church be erected in her honour. Juan Diego tried three times to convince Archbishop Juan de Zumárraga of this apparition. He succeeded only on his last visit, when roses tumbled out of his tilmatli, or cloak, and a life-sized image of the Virgin was found miraculously imprinted on its cactus-fiber cloth. Juan Diego’s cloak is said to be the same painted icon that is central to the cult of the Virgin of Guadalupe, venerated today in the twentieth- century basilica that bears her name.27

This famous story of the Virgin Mary appearing before Juan Diego is

another account which garners an abundance of religious syncretism. The appearance of

Mary took place on the ancient and sacred site of Tepeyac. This site had for

centuries, served as the worshipping place for various pre-Colombian earth deities whom

often shared the same name of Tonantzin, or Earth Mother.28 It is here that Tonantzin

also became Jesus’ mother, Mary. In the wake of such fusion emerged El Virgen

de Guadalupe, who is effectively the embodiment of both forms.

Catholic churches were often erected on top of pre-Colombian spiritual spaces,

the geographic location is an example of an arguably violent negotiation between

religions.

After the erection of the catholic basilica on Tepeyac, church officials later noted,

“Now that the church of our Lady of Guadalupe has been built there, they (campesinos)

call her Tonantzin too. The term refers to that ancient Tonantzin and this state of affairs

should be remedied, because the proper name of the Mother of God is not Tonantzin.29

Through the subsequent emergence of The Virgin of Guadalupe, the catholic church

27 Ibid.28 Ibid.29 Eric R. Wolf, “The Virgin of Guadalupe: A Mexican National Symbol,” The Journal of

American Folklore. Vol. 71, No. 279 (1958), 35.

10

created a dilemma whereby indigenous Mexicans were able to continue worshipping the

Earth Mother, albeit under a catholic guise. By erecting a church on Tepeyac, the catholic

mission not only subdued Aztec religious practices, but they also unwittingly opened the

doors for religious syncretism in Mexico. It is important to note that this happened in

many places throughout the Americas, although Tepeyac is one grand example.

In addition to the maternal and geographical lendings to the syncretism of El

Virgen de Guadalupe, her physical attributes were also altered in the syncretic process.

The original Virgin of Guadalupe was “an eminently European image that had little

meaning for the Native worshiper.”30 As a result, the painted icon on Juan Diego’s cloak

contained essential modifications such as the inclusion of dark-olive skin, and straight

black hair. In addition, the mantle on which she stands is blue-green, a colour only kept

for the celestial Aztec couple Ometecuhtli and Omecihuatl. Moreover, she is also

adorned by the Sun, with the moon under her feet,31 qualities resembling that of the Aztec

Earth Mother, Tonantzil.

The collision of Aztec and Christian customs in colonial Mexico, formulated a

deity that, in time, came to reflect the beliefs and practices of both Christianity and

Costumbre. In a showdown of spiritual warfare, indigenous groups used religious

syncretism as a tool for political and social resistance. As a result, elements of

ancient Aztec customs survived, and live on, through the El Virgen de Guadalupe, when

they likely may not have otherwise.

The conquest of European colonialism changed Latin America forever. In a

centuries old confrontation that sought to subordinate and eradicate all things indigenous,

colonialism in the Americas has left its thieving fingerprints all over the land and people.

Religious syncretism as we have come to understand it, has a very unique history in Latin

America. The mission to convert all natives to Catholicism was fierce and merciless.

With virtually no defense from the disease and weapons of colonialism, indigenous

30 Peterson, 40.31 Ibid.

11

people all over the Americas found a way to covertly resist through the utilization of the

rather ironic tool of religion. These syncretic deities are just as fluid and changing as the

syncretism’s that made them.By blending into Catholicism just enough, ancient pre-

Colombian beliefs were salvaged and incorporated back into the changing religious

milieu.

The cases of El Tío in the Andes of Bolivia and Peru, Maximon in the highlands

of Guatemala, and El Virgen de Guadalupe in Mexico, are all unique examples of

indigenous resistance and struggle in the seemingly never ending campaign to maintain

cultural and religious identity and autonomy under the vacuum of European colonialism.

This resistance is neither victorious or defeated. Instead it is should be understood as

remarkably still alive and breathing. The ongoing process of religious syncretism in Latin

America is a testament to the consistent perseverance and solidarity of the spirit of

historically subjugated indigenous peoples, and their sincere refusal to abandon their

beliefs, even when it appeared impossible to do so.

Bibliography

Bonilla, Heraclio. Religious Practices in the Andes and Their Relevance to Political Struggle and Development: The Case of El Tío and Miners in Bolivia. Mountain Research and Development, Vol. 26, No. 4, Religion and Sacredness in Mountains: A Historical Perspective (Nov., 2006), pp. 336-342.

Chiappari, Christopher L. Culture, Power, and Identity: Negotiating between Catholic Orthodoxy and Popular Practice. Latin American Research Review, Vol. 42, No.3, October 2007.

12

Leopold, Anita Maria and Jeppe Sinding Jensen. Syncretism in Religion: A Reader. London: Equinox Publishing Ltd., 2004.

Mendelson, Michael E. Maximon: An Iconographical Introduction. Royal Anthropological Institute of Britain and Ireland. Vol. 59 (April, 1959), pp. 57-60.

O’Connor, Mary. The Virgin of Guadalupe and the Economics of Symbolic Behavior. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion. Vol. 28, No. 2, (Jun., 1989), pp. 105-119.

Peterson, Jeanette Favrot. The Virgin of Guadalupe: Symbol of Conquest or Liberation? Art Journal, Vol. 51, No. 4, Latin American Art (Winter, 1992), pp. 39-47.

Stanzione, Vincent James. Rituals of Sacrifice. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003.

Wolf, Eric R. The Virgin of Guadalupe: A Mexican National Symbol. The Journal of American Folklore. Vol. 71, No. 279 (Jan-Mar., 1958) pp. 34-39.

U.S. Department of State: Diplomacy in Action. http://www.state.gov/j/drl/rls/irf/2006/71450.htm

Vanderwood, Paul. Religion: Official, Popular, and Otherwise. Mexican Studies/Estudios Mexicanos, Vol. 16, No. 2, (Summer 2000), pp. 411-441.

13