Berkley Center

I arrived in the Dominican Republic in July without much background knowledge about the country and its religious traditions. I assumed that like most other countries that formerly belonged to the Spanish Empire, the Dominican Republic is more or less traditionally Roman Catholic. Almost immediately, however, I became aware of elements of a rich religious syncretism between European-based, Catholic religious practices and religious customs derived from the country's African heritage.

It is true that traditional Roman Catholicism plays a very important role here. Although there is no state religion and the Dominican Constitution guarantees religious freedom, the vast majority of Dominicans self-identify as Catholics. You can typically find at least one Catholic church on every block here in Santo Domingo. In addition to attending church and participating in weekly prayer or Bible study groups, Dominicans tend to pepper their everyday conversation with religious references. When you leave the house, my host mother tells me “"Go with God"” or "“May God bless you."” When you say goodbye to a Dominican and say you will see him or her the following day, the person will often respond, “"God willing."” Public transportation and other public spaces are often plastered with Christian imagery and bumper stickers, the most popular being, "“Don't tell God how big your problems are. Tell your problems how big God is."” Religious references and invocations are everywhere. If you just stick to the slightly insular world that is an upper-middle-class neighborhood in Santo Domingo, it can be easy to overlook the undercurrents of religious syncretism that are actually quite prevalent in the country.

The non-European religious elements here primarily come from the black African slaves first brought to the island of Hispaniola by the Spanish in the early 1500s. This wave of imported slaves was necessary in order to replace the quickly dying off indigenous Taíno population of the island. Despite the influx of African slaves, however, the part of the island controlled by the Spanish quickly diminished in importance, and the French began to establish a stronger presence on the island. By the end of the seventeenth century, France was in control of two-thirds of the island. They also imported great quantities of slaves in order to work on the sugar plantations, which were of ever-increasing economic significance.

Because of this influx of slaves during the early colonial period of the island, Dominican culture is somewhat of a melting pot of traditions and rituals. One of the most obvious displays of religious syncretism that I have encountered is a ritual dance called palos or atables. The dances typically take place in villages or communities all year round. Each fiesta de palo occurs in honor of a specific Catholic saint, the Holy Spirit, or the Virgin Mary, according to a set Catholic calendar of saints'’ days. The participants typically belong to a cofradía (brotherhood) dedicated to a specific saint. They gather together on the given date and take part in the dance, which is more or less informal, but can sometimes be choreographed. The music represents the most important and obviously African influence. The song itself takes the form of call and response between one singer and the rest of the group, or a main chorus. The main singer often improvises the words. Drums, hollowed-out gourds, and tambourines are the most important instruments used. The polyrhythmic drumming is typically wild, complex, quick, and lends a sense of vitality and motion to the dance, although the choreography itself is more closely tied to European tradition.

I find the religious syncretism represented by the fiesta de palos particularly interesting because the dance is quite common in popular Dominican culture, particularly outside of the big cities—though there are communities within the big cities that also celebrate fiestas de palos. The popularity of this dance, which represents the syncretic nature of Dominican religious tradition, is striking because of the Dominican tendency to deny their African heritage and the country’'s history of slavery. This is an extremely complex topic that I plan to explore more in my next letter, but for now, suffice it to say that it is somewhat perplexing to witness such obvious displays of religious syncretism while every day witnessing outright denials of African influence on Dominican culture.