Anarcho-magicalism

Why is this so much fun?

Researching anarcho-magicalism is intellectually exciting and I’m grateful to Nathalie Wlodarczyk for her brilliant book, Magic and Warfare, which brings data from fighters in Sierra Leone. There is a lot of magic in capoeira and it is a powerful vector of security.

Security studies is not conventionally concerned with magic. Its centrepiece of strategic rationality establishes what Lacy refers to as ‘networks of realism.’ As Lacy argues, these tend to block out consideration of non-conventional threats – environmental collapse, for example. Much, much further out is the realm of magic!

It is important not to be discouraged by this! In any culture, tattoos, prayers and the attribution of power to inanimate objects (lucky socks!) are routine and can boost self-belief or give meaning to violence or sacrifice. Magic relates to security through its association with protection, and with increasing influence and liberation. From the perspective of the weaker, it can disrupt the established order of things: for this reason I am using the term ‘anarcho-magicalism.’

The what: mandinga, dendê & axé

There is no standardised rubric for any part of capoeira. Like other elements of the game – the significance of history, the tactics, the identity of the capoeirista – there are variations in people’s relationship with magic.

Pandeiro with fitas

There is remarkably little paraphernalia in capoeira; there are instruments and you need at least six foot square to play in, but beyond that there is no obligatory kit. Correspondingly, there are a few physical representations of magic: some capoeiristas wear patuas (amulets), or fitas (ribbons) that conform to or evoke certain social or religious codes, make things more fun and more beautiful, and give people identity and confidence.

There are some claims to magical powers; the quasi-mythological figure of Besouro got his name – ‘Beetle’ – from his ability fly away. This ambiguous physical form is a common motif in West African (and many other) cultures and is picked up in ladainhas: “I change into a coral-snake and give a poisonous bite that doctors cannot cure” (CD Mestres Bimba e Cabecinha). The practice of changing form, though, is not part of the game of capoeira and forms a magical atmosphere rather than the performance of magic itself.

There are, though, other forms of magic made with the body and the music that are fundamental to the mechanisms of the game. I will briefly describe three here: mandinga, dendê and axé. No attempt to place parameters on these concepts will satisfy everyone’s understanding or interpretation, but I’ll try to indicate where these forms of magic are located.

Mandinga is fundamental to capoeira and takes it’s name from a West African ethnic group. It is the magic that a person performs in the roda as a ritual honour, and to distract or spook the other player. It is released through the style of play, sometimes by tracing signs on the floor or with the hands (which bear strong resemblance to some of the moves made in Candomblé ceremonies), or by using the movement of the body to play around with the other person emotionally, and laying claim to the tone of the game. It is referred to in song, for example, “release the mandinga!” – particularly if players are engaging in too straight a game, and “I’m not giving anyone my mandinga!”

Dendê is an ingredient of the game. It is also an ingredient in food: it is a kind of palm oil used in Bahian cooking and is used in food offered to the Orixás. An English equivalent that nearly captures its meaning and use would be ‘spice.’ According to a corrido, Bahia has dendê; in fact pretty much anything connected to capoeira, including people, can be described as having dendê – and it’s a good thing!

Axé is the life force, the energy that flows during the game, when people sing unreservedly or play instruments, when they smile and hug. This is a creative force that generates fun, expresses feelings and liberates. It is not often mentioned explicitly in songs (although there is one that attests, ‘you have to have axé’), but it is present. In a song that is apparently about a pandeiro (tambourine) and a viola (small berimbau), the singer proffers, “I bring the force of the earth, I bring the force of the sea.” The ability to express this somatically and musically is axé.

The how: protection, influence & liberation

I have written about protection in former blogs and the invocation of luck is consonant with the perspective of the weaker and the quarters called on for protection. The three kinds of magic considered here, though, perform more powerful political and security roles: those of influencing others (getting others to do your will is one definition of power), and of self-empowerment.

The ability to influence others through mandinga, dendê and axé is significant in security terms because they do not rely on the use or threat of force. Magic is executed with facial, bodily or lyrical expression, by the timbre of a singing voice or by the movement of the body.

Despite a silence on magic in security studies, it is of utmost importance: charisma is possibly the unifying characteristic of political leaders and its influence exceeds that of persuasion or rational thought. People who are able to galvanise groups, stir emotions, be loved by everyone at the same time, make people belief without recourse to evidence – these people have axé. The path of history is often changed in moment of irrationality: when rational judgement is suspended by oratory powers of charisma.

The ability to empower oneself is also important to security. There is self-expression in historical continuity and identity, and capoeira has social and political functions in transmitting historical and contemporary messages. Its power as a vector, though, does not lie in its political earnestness. Capoeira persists and enthrals people because it has dendê – it is fun. It is not at all like doing history homework!

The physical exhilaration, creativity and interactive improvisation of capoeira are themselves empowering. It is acknowledged by capoeiristas that magic brings responsibilities: a common refrain is “quem não pode com mandinga, não carrega patua” – “if you can’t deal with the magic, don’t wear an amulet.” One ladainha couples this with another comment: “if you can’t improvise, leave it to those who can” (CD Mestre Canjiquinha e Waldemar). This gives a vital clue about how it all works: magic is about creativity – it comes from inside! As Mestre Valmir puts it in the video ‘Tem dendê’, “capoeira doesn’t go in – capoeira comes out” (Apolo 2011).

The why!

Magic is not defined simply by being rationally inexplicable, it also has the power to change things: noises to songs, movements to games, words to lyrics, randomness to meaning and enjoyment. Magic also makes things: atmospheres, games, camaraderie. And it is anarchic because it is not bound or defined by progress, profit or logic. Its mechanisms of elation, liberation and energy confound sterile experimentation.

Including charisma and creativity in an analysis of security brings into focus the relationship between what is profoundly valued – in others and in oneself – and action. Creativity and expression through charisma emerge through spending time doing what one values and finds fulfilling. These things generate energy, community and significance. From the perspective of magic, the irrational behaviour is the rest – the parts of life that are not lived in accordance with values; life that is conservative or containing. Life that is calculating or predicated on fear and threat. Many things that, in other circles, pass for rationally strategic behaviour.

Not magic - one of Salvador´s largest
shopping centres claims to make you happy

References:

Apolo, F. (2011), Histórias da Bahia. A ladainha tem dendê. Capoeira Angola.

Lacy, M. J. (2003). Security and climate change : international relations and the limits of realism. London, Routledge.

Wlodarczyk, N. (2009), Magic and Warfare: Appearance and Reality in Contemporary African Conflict and Beyond. New York, Palgrave MacMillan.

Counter-rationality



Counter-narratives



There are elements of the thief in capoeira – the use of deception to trick the other player and the tactical use of space and resources. I now want to extend the concept of instrumental rationality to include counter-rationality: forms of rationality that do not conform to the dominant notion but nonetheless render goals that are significant and valued.

Luis Renato Vieira argues that vadiação – vagrancy – and deception in capoeira generate a second reality to Western rationality and efficiency (Röhrig Assunção 2005, 116). Similarly, Abib theorises a ‘differentiated logic’ and ‘ambiguous strategy’ at work in capoeira (Abib 2004), which are deliberately baffling. These are two contributions to the exploration of counter-rationality.

Malícia

Malícia is where tactics meet counter-rationality. It is akin to trickery, but it makes a virtue and an art of deception: the use of malícia in capoeira proposes a different set of values and goals.

Malícia stems from the perspective of the weaker party and aims to outwit the stronger. Capoeira is about intelligence, not brute force and there is a degree of heroism in the confidence that the weaker will find a way round or a way out. A ladainha makes the observation: God did not give intelligence to the wolf and the cobra cannot fly. What is all that body worth without a head to think with? (CD Mestre João Pequeno/ FICA songbook p7)

Micky-taking is the thin end of the wedge: “The king’s crown is not made of gold or silver, my friend – it’s made of tin!” Malícia is a constant playful presence in games: setting up expectations and then confounding them, jokey interaction followed by a forceful kick or takedown and a smile, persistent needling to confuse or wear through the other person’s resources by attrition. Malícia is not mentioned in songs – it is implicit, part of the fundamentos of capoeira, particularly Capoeira Angola.

Riddles

Sign for the capoeira academy - for those arriving on their hands

Canjiquinha opens his book, ‘Alegria da capoeira’: “1. When reading this book, don’t be guided by the punctuation marks you find in it. 2. Sometimes, there are contradictory assertions on the same page. Don’t be fooled. That’s how it is. Capoeira is a game of double meaning. It has two sides that are hardly ever really distinct” (Canjiquinha 1989,2).

Riddles are a common feature of capoeira songs, and build up the counter-rationality. They reflect on the tricksy and fickle way of the world and the need to respond accordingly. Some riddling is serious, presenting the puzzles of the cosmic order and the distribution of wealth. Riddles are used in ladainhas to assert the worth, strength or innocence of capoeiristas in the face of accusations to the contrary by those in power.

There are also more light-hearted riddly statements made: ‘the chicken has two wings but it doesn’t have two gizzards’; ‘when I go, you come. When I come, you go.’ There are riddles in corridos as well. In the song ‘Paranà é’ presents two apparently unrelated riddles in consecutive verses: “I make a knot and tie the end, no one knows how to untie it” and “I am an arm of the tide, but I am the infinite tide.’ These perplexing or idiosyncratic situations are not resolved, they are simply observations on the contradictory nature of life.

There are also explicit critiques of science made in a riddly way. It is worth quoting the ladainha ‘I am free like the wind’ at length ([Cordel: Riachão] CD Mestres Boca Rica e Bigodinho/ FICA songbook p13).

“Você diz que tem ciência            “You say that science exists

Me de uma explicação                  So explain this -

Como é que em doze horas         How it is that in twelve hours

Há uma transformação.                There’s a transformation.

Não é o sol quem se move           It’s not the sun that moves

Este e fixo em seu lugar               - that’s fixed in its place.

A terra ta sobre o eixo                   The earth is on an axis

E o eixo faz rodar                           and the axis spins it.

Uma cobra tão pequena               A snake that is so small

Mata um boi agigantado”              Kills a huge bull”

Faced with such a line of questioning the scientist who is being addressed is likely to reach for a large gin. It is not quite that the questions are too difficult, but the ladainha applies a rasteira to rationality – sweeping the rational feet away. It is destabilising because it appears interested in science but then does not grace the dominant rationality with a cogent investigation (which would be submission).

A rasteira -
From Jair Moura (2009) “A capoeiragem no Rio de Janeiro através dos séculos.
JM Grafica e Editora Ltda, Salvador/Bahia.

Chance

A third aspect of counter-rationality is chance: the belief that things happen for random reasons or for no reason. The corrido ‘oh sim sim sim, oh não não não’ is defined by the verse: ‘Today I have it, tomorrow no.’ No explanation is proffered for this unhappy turn of events. Life for slaves or the severely marginalised is routinely disoriented: work is not related to money and there is no insurance or compensation in case of attack. Life itself is largely determined by luck. A ladainha recounts the disembarkation of slaves with the words, ‘Africans arriving by chance, or having died on the crossing.”

This theme is explored in the ladainha ‘Eu tive um Sonho’/’I had a dream’ (CD FICA), in which the singer relates having a dream that he was rich. It goes on to explain that in reality he works in a coffee plantation to earn money to buy capoeira clothes and to make a berimbau. But, the ladainha recounts, that too was a dream and he was robbed of his earnings. That’s the end!

Chance is linked to the cosmic order – still with no explanation. Love God, but be careful. “He makes one person rich, another poor. He makes one blind, another maimed. He made Solomon king, and he made Saint Peter a soldier.” The ladainha records no outrage at this distribution of grace, though. It ends, “I’m going a long way away. I’m going close to my God” (FICA CD).

Crooked world, crooked way

The use of malícia and riddles, and the acceptance of chance generates a consistent message: it’s not me that’s wrong – it’s the world. And a counter approach is needed in order to survive the twisted order and ‘rationality’ imposed by the powerful.

The confusion of the capoeirista is commonly expressed: Mestre Paulo dos Anjos’ ladainha ‘Fickle world’ starts out ‘I don’t know what to do to live in this world’ and lists the tensions he experiences: ‘if I’m clean [people say] I’m cunning, if I’m dirty [people say] I’m filthy” (CD Mestre Paulo dos Anjos). Others follow similar formats: “I don’t know how to live in this fickle world. If I talk a lot, I’m talkative, if I talk a little I’m sly.” (CD Mestres Cajiquinha e Waldemar). This ladainha ends intriguingly: “I’m always telling you that envy killed Cain.” Cain killed Abel, but what did Cain die of? The Bible doesn’t tell us, but we can work it out. There are whole untold truths to be uncovered by taking a counter-rational step away from the dominant version of events.

Counter-rationalities challenge conventional analyses of decision-making. The notion of ‘strategic rationality’ dominates understanding of security but assumes access to information and power. If one or both of these elements are missing, the decision-making process is changed. If underlying values do not conform to the supposition of conventional strategic behaviour the model is further adrift.

During the Cold War, US strategists established increasingly complex game-theory models to predict the decisions that the USSR would take. The need to understand the enemy has a long history in security thinking. On the other hand, attempting to understand populations for whom security is to be provided – through demobilisation programmes, peace agreements, power-sharing arrangements – is often overlooked. Frequently, too, such programmes are rejected or fail to establish security. Recognising counter-rationalities establishes the intellectual ground for analysing action that does not comply with conventional assumptions of strategy.

References:

Abib, P. R. J. (2004). Capoeira Angola: Cultura popular e o jogo dos saberes na roda. Campinas-São Paulo, Universidade Estadual de Campinas, Faculdade de Educação, Doutorado em Ciências Sociais Aplicadas à Educação. http://www.capoeiravadiacao.com/attachments/204_Capoeira%20angola,%20cultura%20popular%20e%20jogos%20dos%20saberes%20na%20roda-Pedro%20Abib.pdf.

Canjiquinha (1989). Alegria da capoeira, Fundação Cultural do Estado da Bahia. http://www.kimcapoeira.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/canjiquinha_alegria_da_capoeira.pdf.

Röhrig Assunção, M. (2005). Capoeira. The History of an Afro-Brazilian Martial Art. London and New York, Routledge.

Tactics!



Playing in the available space

Communicative rationality functions alongside instrumental rationality, and can itself be instrumental in some ways. This blog and the two that follow will explore instrumental rationalities within the game and history of capoeira. This blog looks at tactics – the gains that can be made within the available space and according to which the weaker party conforms to the same rationality as the dominant party. A destitute thief and a rich person may have different perspectives on the law but agree on the value of money.

De Certeau differentiates between strategy and tactics, whereby strategy involves the ability to command and shape and environment. Conversely, “The space of a tactic is the space of the other. Thus it must play on and with a terrain imposed on it and organized by the law of a foreign power… It operates in isolated actions, blow by blow… It is a guileful ruse… In short, a tactic is an art of the weak” (de Certeau 1984, 37).

Attack! Escape!

The history of capoeira and the identity of the capoeirista derives from the perspective of the weaker party: it was developed in slave communities and then among people who were politically and economically marginalised.

Contrary to other martial arts and mainstream security thinking, there is little notion of defence. People talk about defence in capoeira but there is no block. Players swipe away kicks that have not come to full force, but they do not stand in the way. The key defensive tactic in capoeira is escape – esquiva: ducking the kick, or moving to the side or behind. This allows the game to continue. As Mestre Poncianinho observes: ‘escape is infinite.’ In security terms, having an infinite resource is helpful.

from Alexandre Robatto’s 1954 film ‘Vadiação’; photo displayed in Forte de Santo Antonio

The game of capoeira is not role-play, and there are strategies that are employed within the characteristically tactical context: players try to dominate space and the stronger player has some advantages. Of greater significance, though, is malandragem – being streetwise. Capoeira is a streetfighting art: songs celebrate no wrong step, no move in vain. The kicks are not the point; the point is to take down the other person, preferably using a rasteira – a sweep – something that goes under the radar and takes away the other person’s feet when they are attacking. As a corrido puts it, “tough guy, I’ll give you a rasteira and put you on the ground!” (FICA songbook p27).

Protection

Santo Antonio – He’s a busy man

Protection is a recurrent theme in the moves and the songs, reflecting the vulnerability of the weaker party. All moves involve an element of protection – the capoeirista can be attacked at any moment: one hand always protects the face, and the body is protected by being ‘closed’ – using the legs or arms to protect the torso.

There is a strong theme of protection in the songs too. A commonly sung corrido is ‘Saint Antonio is the protector’: firstly protector of Noah’s ark, then of capoeira, quite often of Salvador, and finally of love! Orixás, too are called on for protection, either by name or by allusion. The corrido “my mermaid, queen of the sea, don’t let my boat capsize’ is addressed to Yemanja, Orixá of the sea, often depicted as a mermaid.



Yemanja taking care of a boat

God is another source of protection: “a little with God is a lot. A lot without God is nothing” (Retrato da Bahia. CD Mestre Paulo dos Anjos). The ladainha ‘Iê Senhor Bom Deus’ (‘Oh Lord Good God’ – sorry, this one is really lost in translation!) (FICA CD track 3) makes clear allusion to the Lord’s Prayer, but is a honed-down version, especially for capoeiristas! Firstly, ‘make me a good capoeirista’ (with the usual ambiguity between the game and life). It then misses the majority of the prayer and cuts to the protective elements: deliver me from temptation, all evil and my enemies. It concludes with a prayer for protection.

Reducing vulnerability

The identity of the capoeirista is a ‘small’ one: ‘pequeno sou eu’ – ‘I’m small’ is a constant refrain, especially in chulas (the songs sung between the ladainha and the corrido). But the diminutive size of the capoeirista amplifies the size of the protector: ‘Maior e deus!’ – ‘God is great.’ That reduces vulnerability.

The animals invoked in moves and songs also signal an element of vulnerability. They are not predatory: they are frogs, monkeys and birds, not big cats, bears or wolves. In ladainhas there are frequent references to being wary or careful: ‘I don’t go to your house, you don’t come to mine’; ‘I say my prayers with a knife in my belt.’ By allusion too, the capoeirista is often threatened: ‘the German canary killed my songbird.’

Sapinho – want to play?

In this threatened role, the priority of reducing vulnerability is higher than that of increasing influence. Besouro de Mangangá – ‘Beetle’ is the name of a quasi-mythical capoeirista (some say he is mythical. Mestre Joao Pequeno, when asked about him said, ‘yes, he was my father’s cousin’). The beetle has a protective shell but is small and does not pose a threat. It can fly away though (and Besouro is credited with the ability to fly when pursued by the police), so it is able to outwit and destabilise its persecutor.

Resilience

“The boat capsized, sailor! There is treasure on the ocean floor!” – corrido.



Head above water? Missing opportunities!



Nancy Scheper-Hughes has written about psychological responses to violence and theorises resilience as the ‘refusal to be negated’ (Scheper-Hughes 1992, 19). A short ladainha observes, “The miner bird doesn’t sing when it’s in a cage. It only sings when it’s by the anthill and sees an ant outside!”

Resilience is a subject that is taken up in Claudia Seymour’s ground-breaking work on young people’s experiences of violence in eastern Congo, in which she explores how people cope in various ways and to various degrees with incessant violence. She finds, amongst other things, that the way that people recount their own histories is significant in attributing responsibility and meaning to violence. In capoeira, too, the preservation of cultural identity and the tactics used in the game demonstrate a strong form of resilience: you smile in adversary, if you are taken down you get up, if you are taken down again you get up again. You look the other person in the eye. You sing.

There is a clear instrumental rationality in staying in the game (literally or figuratively) by whatever means, and this has some lessons for the pursuit of security. Mearsheimer identifies the inability of states to cooperate as the ‘Tragedy of Great Power Politics.’ The reason, he argues is that ‘it pays to be selfish in a self-help world’ – both in the short and the long term (Mearsheimer 2002, 33). The ‘tragedy’ as far as great powers is concerned, is of political stalemate and environmental collapse. But a much more immediate ‘tragedy’ faces weaker states: that of political, cultural or literal obliteration. The tactical responses offered in and by capoeira inform an understanding of the quest for security for the majority of the world. Escaping, seeking protection, reducing vulnerability and refusing to be negated are tactics that start to fill some of the conceptual void created by the assumptions of conventional security studies – assumptions of strategic rationality and power.

References:

de Certeau, M. (1984). The practice of everyday life, University of California Press.

Mearsheimer, J. J. (2002). The tragedy of great power politics. New York London, W. W. Norton.

Capoeira sou eu! Capoeira I am!

A poetic context of Africa and slavery is complemented by a more recent and literal history of market, dock and farm workers. Considering Habermas’ notion of communicative rationality, Miller argues that, “Common understandings arrived at consensually provide the basis for a morally valued way of life and the construction of collective identities that transcend the individual” (Miller 1992, 29). This blog will be looking at capoeira identities that derive from common understandings.

Menino, quem foi seu mestre? Kid, who’s your mestre?

Capoeira preserves few names before the 20^th century, and those that survive have quasi-mythical status. From the early 1930s onwards, capoeira was taken from the street to the Academy. This allowed for more formalised histories and hierarchies within groups and mestres are celebrated in song, among them Bimba, Pastinha, Waldemar and João Grande.

Preserving names in this way is consistent with an oral history. It also cements the significance of the mestre and the importance of descent. The question ‘kid, who was your mestre’ (related in songs) presents the status of a capoeirista as the child of a history and is the first question that is asked of anyone visiting an academy. The figure of the mestre is mixed in with family line: there is a strong notion of being ‘son’ or ‘grandson’ of – invariably male – lineages. The ladainha ‘Tradition’ includes the assertion, “Whoever has no father or mestre also has no tradition” (CD GCAP 3).

The notion of ancestry is reinforced by rituals that are performed in various ways: some academies honour the birthdays of past mestres, some have ‘baptisms’, some include in this the use of capoeira names – apelidos. Baptisms establish identity within a capoeira family and in doing so ritually reclaim space from Catholic church, which forced slaves to be baptized, disorienting them from their familial roots.

There is also some ground seized from the state. Capoeira does not render a national identity. Foreigners can play capoeira and become accomplished without any aspiration to being Brazilian. Brazil is scarcely mentioned in capoeira: the geographic setting is Bahia – and the geographical parameters are set by the sea not the state. The identity derived from capoeira comes from Salvador, Bahia or Angola, not from Brazil.

Power is also reconfigured. A ladainha on Mestre Pastinha’s CD includes the lines, “If you want to learn, come to Salvador and get in touch with Mestre Pastinha, he is the best teacher.” Another song claims, “I’ve never seen anyone better than Mr Bimba!” Within the group, the authority of the mestre is unquestioned and there is an associated responsibility in the guidance given within a relationship of confidence. The generation of status and respect that are distinct from and – formerly – contrary to the state establishes a community and source of support that shifts the distribution of power.

Angola & Regional

In discussing identity, some consideration is needed of the two major strands of capoeira. The ‘Regional Fight of Bahia’ known as Capoeira Regional was established by Mestre Bimba’s academy in 1932 and brought the combative elements to the fore. Around the same time, Mestre Pastinha opened an academy for ‘Capoeira Angola,’ placing greater store by the African roots and ritual elements of the game.

Filhos de Bimba, heirs of M Bimba

There are significant differences between the two schools in the music, games, values and histories. Angola and Regional function as concurrent universes of capoeira, with scarcely any acknowledgement of each other. ‘Contemporary capoeira’ is influenced by both schools and cites both styles or both founding fathers in its songs. I have come across only one reference in Capoeira Angola to Capoeira Regional. The song, ‘Tudo é diferente na Angola’/‘Everything is different in Angola’ seems to be an implicit comparison to Regional: the details are, ‘the viola responds to the gunga (referring to the conventions of interaction between the berimbaus); the berimbau is tuned; the game is low.’ (I don’t think it’s talking about the country).



GCAP - heirs of M Pastinha



Few capoeiristas are born into their capoeira line. Most choose their group and identities are constructed through the conventions and values of the group: the sway of the ginga (the core capoeira movement), the composition of the batería, Angoleiros wear yellow and black and train in hat and shoes, Regional schools have various colours but no shoes or hat. Regional schools have coloured belts to indicate level; Angoleiros ask how many years of training you have. Regional players enter the roda with exuberance; Angoleiros engage in ritual and then sneak in warily. I am not making an exhaustive comparison of the two schools, merely indicating some of the many ways in which identities are reproduced within and across groups.

Both the Regional and the Angolan branches of capoeira have universalising discourses: Regional popularised capoeira, for the first time training whites and people from the middle class, and arguably saving capoeira from obscurity. Pastinha also insisted that anyone could learn – asserting ‘capoeira is for men, women and children’ – but was keen to save capoeira from popularisation. He was specifically inclusive: one of his ladainhas states that generals and doctors can learn – but they need to submit to capoeira’s conventions. It’s the difference between taking capoeira to the people and bringing the people to capoeira.

Self-presentation

“Capoeira is my name

Capoeira is in my blood

Capoeira is to live well” (CD GCAP 3/ FICA songbook p17)

Capoeiristas are descendents of a general and particular lineage and, through their participation in orality and tradition, they become part of it. By joining a group they become integrated into its history and assume various duties of commitment and behaviour. They are responsible for the t-shirt they wear; when visiting other academies they are implicitly representing their group and their mestre.

Capoeira draws on – and feeds into – community (maintained by common exclamations ‘vamos vadiar’, ‘vamos embora’ – let’s play capoeira), but it is not a team sport. The realization of ancestry and training is the game that takes place in the roda, and that is about the individual and what he or she can do. Capoeira is not simply about presentation of history or the representation of a group or its conventions. Ultimately it is about self-presentation: how the capoeirista interacts with conventions, tests them and extends them through improvisation, creativity and expression. ‘Capoeira sou eu!’ It is personal – it is never ‘we are,’ it is always ‘I am!’

‘I have no superior, I am the son of freedom.

I’m not recounting my life, because there’s no need.

I am not on the run, and you are not the authority” (CD Mestre Canjiquinha e Waldemar/ FICA songbook p9)

References:

Miller, B. (1992). "Collective action and rational choice. Place, community and the limits to individual self-interest." Economic Geography 68(1): 22-42.

Soldier, Sailor

Africa, as a continent, but more as a concept, ideal or set of values, gives the context for capoeira. There is a more recent history that is also communicated through the songs and movements of capoeira. This is a history of heroic capoeiristas and their – often military – exploits, and of ordinary capoeiristas and their daily lives.

From Africa, with sunshine!

I got back to Salvador from Kilombo Tenonde and found a postcard from a friend in Madagascar! It took a month to arrive and seems to be evidence of a big world out there!



Warriors

There are a few songs in capoeira that are traced to military battles. Paranaé – perhaps the most widely sung capoeira song – references the involvement of slaves in the war against Paraguay (1865-70) in which many capoeiristas were enlisted.



The participation of capoeiristas in historic battles places them central to the history of Brazil – and as a function of their martial art, which was illegal at the time. This was also a moment of liberation: capoeirstas were promised freedom on the misplaced assumption that they would not survive the fighting. The song: “I won the battle of Camugerê,” also recalls a victory; in this case runaway slaves killed the slave master who was pursuing Aidê, an African enslaved woman. The recounting of these stories locates capoeira politically – in opposition to the state and slave masters. It also creates a heroic past in which capoeiristas’ exploits became decisive in their freedom from slavery.

There is a more radical critique of mainstream Brazilian history relayed by capoeira songs that debunk of the myth that slavery was abolished by the Golden Law of 1888. The argument is put succinctly in the ladainha ‘Dona Isabel, que historia e essa?’ (Madame Isabel, what history is this?). The ladainha offers an explicit counter-narrative: freedom was not given by Princess Isabel; it was Zumbi who fought for the true freedom, training heroes in the runaway settlement of Palmares. A similar line is given by the ladainha ‘Zumbi, King of Palmares,’ which begins, “history deceives us, telling us the opposite of what happened…” and elsewhere, sometimes mixed with the – contradictory – assertion that slavery has never been abolished.



Zumbi dos Palmares, statue in the Pelourinho, Salvador





Plaque by the statue

 





Workers

 

Vou vender coco, senha

A larger body of songs refers directly to the everyday lives of capoeiristas: not having the gravitas of the references to slavery or war, these more incidental histories tend to be rendered in the corridos, which are the simple songs that are sung during the roda and have a call-and-response structure. Market traders, cowboys, plantation workers, petty craftsment, dockers and sailors are represented in song. With the exception of ‘espora’ – ‘spur’, the names of moves are not derived from jobs. Cowboy songs also have direct reference to the game: ‘lasso, lasso, cowboy’ indicating the moment to strike. There is some sedimentation around the first half of the 20^th century. No one is working as a call centre or a petrochemicals factory.

There is a range of trades but they are all labouring jobs: there are no bureaucrats or property owning classes in capoeira songs. The jobs cited demand bodily strength, and Nancy Scheper-Hughes notes that people who have physical work are more likely to express themselves somatically (Scheper-Hughes 1992, 187). The shapes of the moves in capoeira are expansive and demonstrative of physical form: they are devised by labourers, not by people sitting at computers or driving cars.



women in the roda (from Alexandre Robatto’s 1954 film
‘Vadiação’; photos displayed in Forte de Santo Antonio)



Practically all capoeira songs present the male perspective, reflecting the predominantly male history of the game, a predominance that continues particularly in the upper echelons of the game. There are references to female Orixás and occasionally to their associated female saints. There is also a palpable female human presence: there are very few romantic love songs, but women appear in the everyday of life. There are women market traders, there are women’s names in songs ‘sai sai Caterina’ (leave, Caterina); ‘Dona Maria, como vai voce?’; (Maria, how are you?) ‘Dona Alice, nao me pega nao,’ (Alice, don’t get me) or more generally, ‘menina,’ ‘nega,’ ‘morena,’ or ‘mulher’ – terms addressing or referring to women.

Salvador-on-Sea

An important set of references is also made to Salvador, Bahia, the home of capoeira. There are a few mentions of Brazil (usually as the country that abolished – or didn’t – slavery), but the immediate geographical environment is frequently the subject of songs. You can literally (yes, literally) sing your way round Salvador: ‘Bahia de todos os santos’; ‘Good Jesus of Lapa!’ (an area of Salvador); ‘I’m going to Maré Island’; ‘If you want to see me, go to Piedade [Square] tomorrow’; ‘Adeus Santo Amaro’ (a town near Salvador).

Bom Jesus de Lapa-eh!

Sao Bento me chama

Saia do mar, marinheiro!

 



Bahia de Todos os Santos



The sea is also a constant presence in songs: as a source of fear and fish, as a vector for journeying and the source of sunken treasure, the preserve of the Orixá Yemanja, and as a feature of the city. It is also where the sting-ray lives, the ‘sting-ray’s tail’ – raba-de-arraia, being the name of a spinning kick. There is something very beautiful about playing in a roda by the beach singing, ‘Aprendi a jogar capoeira de Angola na beira do mar’ – ‘I learned to play capoeira Angola by the edge of the sea.’

The message

The perspective relayed through movement and songs is a workers’ perspective. There is not a strong class-consciousness or a unified political ideology, but there is a strong recognition of roots and social context.

References to Salvador and Bahia and the lives of extraordinary and ordinary people who live here sit within the broader context of Africa and slavery and provide local roots to capoeira. The relaying of experiences and familiar places establishes a bank of shared knowledge, experience and identity. Capoeiristas come from the street, are workers and – despite all the talk of travelling – really rather like Bahia (it’s lovely!).

References:

Scheper-Hughes, N. (1992). Death without weeping. The violence of everyday life in Brazil. Berkeley, Oxford, University of California Press.