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          In the Sierra Madre Occidental, a mountainous region of Northern Mexico, live a people called the Huichols who have for centuries been making their annual sacred pilgrimage hundreds of miles east to the San Louis Potosi desert, which they call Wirikuta, home of the gods and the souls of the dead, and where the sacred peyote cactus grows. This journey traditionally was made on foot, and could take over a month to accomplish, now it is often done by truck or bus, and sometimes takes as little as a week. Even though the means of travel have changed, the pilgrimage still follows its sacred itinerary, with the pilgrims, called peyoteros, fasting and adhering to taboos throughout the entire process, and stopping to pray and leave offerings to the gods at all the key sites and gates, of which there are many, along the way. Its ritual significance is still maintained, as a visitation to the land and time of creation, where light was born in the form of Tatewari, which means Grandfather Fire, who is the god of the shamans, and his son Tao, Father Sun. It is also significant as a re-enactment of the mythic first peyote pilgrimage, where Tamats Kauyumari Maxa Kwaxi, which means Elder Brother Deer Tail, who is a creator and ancestor god associated with peyote and deer, led the ancestors and other gods on their way to Wirikuta to find peyote which he said would heal them and bring fertility to their land and people (Benitez 1968). The purpose of this essay is to try to understand why peyote is so central to the lives of the Huichol people, and to analyze the key aspects of their annual pilgrimage to acquire it. Drawing mostly from more modern and in-depth ethnographic research than that of Carl Lumholtz, the pioneering Norwegian explorer who first brought Huichol religion to the attention of the scholarly world but was mostly an observer, this essay hopes to explore the pilgrimage and the peyote symbol from a more personal view that seeks to get into Huichol consciousness, both collectively and individually. 
          Tamats is often referred to as Paritsika, Lord of the Hunt (Benitez 1968), and he is seen as the deer who devours or sacrifices himself, in the form of peyote springing from his antlers or in some versions from his footprints, so that all can eat and partake of life (Lemaistre 1996). Deer and peyote, called hikuri in Huichol, are almost interchangable in Huichol mythology, and during hunts for deer they sometimes say they are gathering peyote, and when gathering peyote they say they are hunting deer (Lemaistre 1996). Peyote is seen as the flesh of the deer, and is the ultimate ritual sacrament in Huichol society. It is divine, with the power to heal as well as to take one to other worlds, and it allows the Huichols to communicate with the gods. This communication can be as vague an experience as witnessing colourful arrays of geometric patterns flying by, which they call nierika, to as concrete an experience as hearing Tamats, whom Lumholtz refers to as "the singing shaman" (Lumholtz 1900: 20), sing a song which is considered to be the sign that the gods are pleased and is a blessing to the individual who hears it (Schaefer 1996).
          One of the most essential features of the peyote hunt occurs before peyote is even eaten, and before the peyoteros even reach their destination. This is the confession and purification ritual that takes place on the path to Wirikuta. It is essential to the pilgrimage because if the peyoteros do not confess their sins honestly, the entire pilgrimage is jeopardized, with threats of any number of misfortunes befalling them, such as illness striking one of them on the way, or madness from the peyote afflicting one of them as punishment by the gods. Tamats and the ancestors on their first pilgrimage, too, stopped and confessed in this way, for if they did not, they would not be allowed to enter into the sacred desert and receive the divine blessings of the peyote. During the ceremony, which occurs after sundown and is held around the fire, each peyotero confesses his sins, which are generally related to the body, especially sexual transgressions, to the chief shaman, Tatewari Mara'akame. In Huichol, mara'akame means shaman, so this name literally means the shaman Tatewari, though this role is often referred to as "The Man with the Arrows" (Benitez 1968: 42), alluding to the feathered arrows that are the symbol of the shaman in Huichol society. Tatewari Mara'akame holds a rope which he ties knots into for every transgression confessed by each peyotero. At the end of the pilgrimage, once the peyoteros have returned home and hold the Hikuri Niexa, Dance of the Peyote Fetsival, this rope will be thrown into the fire to symbolize that the peyoteros have performed their ritual duties to the gods and have been forgiven by Tatewari who erases their sins (Benitez 1968).
          At the end of the confession ceremony, there is another ritual held immediately after each pilgrim has confessed which is a central part of the pilgrimage and is the symbolic start of the transformation from the profane world to the sacred (Benitez 1968). In this ritual, new names are given for each pilgrim and their family members back home, as well as for the plants and animals, and essentially everything in the world including directions. Some peyoteros, typically the experienced mara'akames, are assigned sacred names as the gods and ancestors of the first journey. For instance, the most respected mara'akame is assigned to be Tamats Kauyumari (Benitez 1968). He will lead the peyoteros from now on, his arrows and his deer mask with the weaved wainuri, or sacred tobacco bag, pointed ahead, holding the makutse, or sacred tobacco, which Huichols say contains the "heart-memory of the gods" (Schaefer 2005: 189). Another important name assigned is Nauxari, "he who recounts" (Benitez 1968: 171), or, in other versions, Nauxa "keeper of the peyote" (Schaefer 1996: 151). Nauxa has a very crucial role throughout the entire pilgrimage, administrating peyote to the peyoteros, making sure they are "in the physical and mental states that facilitate their out-of-body travel along this [Tamats Kauyumari's] path" (Schaefer 1996: 152). As well, Nauxari must sit with Tatewari in the communal temple, called the calihuey, which translates literally as big house, after they have returned from their journey, telling Tatewari everything that has happened over the course of travel and receiving messages and visions from him (Benitez 1968). 
          The other peyoteros receive more personal names, which can be very humourous at times. For example, French ethnographer Denis Lemaistre tells of a peyotero on one particular pilgrimage who wore tatterred rags and, therefore, was named Namakate, which means a featherless bird, such as the vulture, for the entire pilgrimage (Lemaistre 1996). Even when the names given are humourous, however, there is always the underlying theme of transformation that is taking place. "Huichol mythology considers birth and naming identical" (Lemaistre 1996: 324), and the reversal of names and directions is a way of creating the sense of a different time and place, indeed, a different world, for the peyoteros. It is "returning to one's origins... to that state of innocence and openness that characterized most of the great ancestors" (Lemaistre 1996: 323). The ceremony is marked by laughter and a playful spirit, but its symbolism is nonetheless rich. To consecrate the new names, each peyotero is picked up by a companion and shaken over the fire, so that Tatewari can erase the old identity, leaving only the new identity for the remainder of the journey (Benitez 1968). "Mortal pilgrims symbolically become their immortal deities at the time of the world's creation" (Schaefer 2005: 183). As Benitez pointed out, after the naming ceremony he witnessed was complete, it seemed that "the Huichols had become the gods whose name they bore" (Benitez 1968: 81). 
          Once the peyoteros arrive in Wirikuta, perhaps the most striking feature of the entire pilgrimage takes place. This is the ritual enactment of the hunt. Tamats Kauyumari points with his arrows to Reunar, the long inactive volcano that Tatewari sprang from, where Elder Brother Deer Tail can be seen, as a hazy figure like a cactus or rock formation in the distance, at the summit. The first deer has been spotted, and the peyoteros shoot arrows at the desert, symbolically chasing and wounding Elder Brother Deer Tail (Lumholtz 1900). They march further in, and when the first peyote is found, it is ritually stabbed with an arrow by Tamats, symbolizing that they have found the wounded deer and have slain him (Benitez 1968). If this first peyote has flowers, the flowers are eaten because it is said that they give one special vision to spot more peyote (Schaefer 1996). The first peyote is treated like a deer, with Tamats drinking its blood and anointing the others with it (Benitez 1968). It is considered to be a sign of what is to come for the rest of the hunt, denoting what kind of peyote and how much more will be hunted. This is similar to a concept utilized in the hunting of actual deer, that of the namakame, which is a messenger deer that is the first deer spotted by the lead mara'akame and is said to "hide another [identity] within it" (Lemaistre 1996: 320). For example, if it is a small young deer it predicts to the mara'akame that a full grown great deer is nearby (Lemaistre 1996). In the peyote hunt, the shape of the first peyote is important as well, and if it is a deer-shaped peyote, one with five ribs, five being a sacred number to the Huichols, representing the five cardinal points of the world, this is a good sign for the success of the hunt (Benitez 1968).  
          After the ritual slaying of the first peyote, the peyoteros are now allowed to hunt the peyote freely, wandering the desert with their muvieris, the feathered-arrow wand of the mara'akame, used to guide as well as to heal, and to endow things with various other spiritual powers, gathering as much peyote as they can (Benitez 1968). But important here as well is that the peyoteros search for specific shapes, formations, and colours of peyote, because certain shapes and formations have symbolic importance. Most notably is the formation, or cluster, of peyote that they feel resembles a life-size deer, which they call "the Mother of Peyote" (Scahefer 1996: 150). When this is found a ceremony must take place. Tamats and the other peyoteros gather around it to perform the necessary rituals. The largest individual peyote of the formation represents its heart and is cut into many thin slices. Blessings are spoken and a slice is placed in each peyoteros mouth. The rest of the heart slices are placed in a special gourd bowl to be distributed back home at the Hikuri Niexa (Scahefer 1996). 
          The significance of the hunt cannot be ignored. The peyote is deer. Not only is it deer, but it is the flesh of the deer given willingly to the Huichols by Elder Brother Deer Tail (Lemaistre 1996). Huichols hunt it like deer and use it like deer's blood to anoint their fields of maize, which is also, in Huichol religion, deer and peyote. By hunting the peyote and using it in their harvest rituals, the Huichols are fulfilling the trinity of their subsistence-based religion, partaking in the communion of all things (Lemaistre 1996). "Peyote, deer, and maize are united by a network of close correspondences. Myth and ritual present to us a circle of metamorphoses in which each figure is the creator of the others at the same time it is created by them, like vessels open to infinity" (Lemaistre 1996: 308). 
          One cannot neglect to mention what is ultimately the holy grail of the entire pilgrimage, and of Huichol religion as a whole. Above all the rituals associated with it is the peyote itself, the effects it has on the people and the meaning it holds for them. Peyote is, of course, an extremely potent hallucinogen. Winkelman calls it a "psychointegrator plant" (Schaefer 2005: 180). His term means that peyote is used ritually to enhance or set the stage for mystical experience (Schaefer 2005). Indeed, it is. But it is much more than that. Peyote sets the stage not only for mystical experience but for delving into and realizing the entirety of Huichol society. Peyote is the flesh of their god, Elder Brother Deer Tail (Benitez 1968). When they consume it and feel its psychoactive effects they are receiving direct communication from the gods. They are entering the sacred realm, where they are given a greater understanding of the world and of themselves. They don't believe they are hallucinating, they believe they are seeing or hearing the gods themselves. The colourful geometrical arrays that one sees on peyote they call nierika, translated by Benitez as "the face of god" (Benitez 1968: 219), or by Negrin and Furst as "the power of supernatural vision" (Lemaistre 1996: 309). Nierika is essentially the spiritual power of the experience of being inebriated with peyote. It serves as a "portal into other worlds" (Schaefer 1996: 156). When a Huichol experiences nierika, he or she tries to go through it into the second stage of peyote trance, where the gods show themselves undisguised (Schaefer 1996). A Huichol who reaches this second state may actually see Tatewari in the fire as an old man, or hear the voice of Tamats singing (Schaefer 1996). He or she is completely sure that the gods are actually presenting themselves to him or her, with a personal message of guidance for his or her life. The gods bestow powers this way, especially when Tamats sings. When a peyotero hears Tamats sing, he or she must sing and dance with him, and the song he or she sings is considered to be part of him or her forever (Schaefer 1996). Peyote, clearly, is not merely enhancing or setting the stage for mystical experience. Rather, the religion of the Huichols is setting the stage for and enhancing the peyote experience. Peyote gives real personal experiences to the Huichols that will bring each Huichol closer together. As Schaefer said, peyote is "an enculturating force" (Schaefer 1996: 161) that "reinforce[s] the Huichol cosmology and...shared worldview" (Schaefer 1996: 161). When a Huichol consumes peyote, especially on the pilgrimage, it is "no longer a matter of passive acceptance of one's indoctrination but of truly ineracting with all [the religion and culture and myth] contain, and experiencing them as realities and as truths about the nature of the world and humanity at large" (Schaefer 1996: 161). 
          Huichol society has managed to survive the Conquest and centuries of modernization. The syncretism between Huichol religion and Catholicism is minimal. In fact, Huichols have holes for offerings dug into the floors of the Catholic cathedrals they sometimes use, and have been known to dress up effigies of Catholic saints as Huichol gods and goddesses (Furst 1996). Why is it that Huichol society has been able to maintain itself even though its close neighbours, like the Coras, have all but lost their traditional religion and way of life? The peyote cult of the Huichols is by far more immense and intense than any other Native American peyote cult. The pilgrimage alone is evidence of how seriously they take peyote. To the Huichols, peyote is a sacred guide, without which no Huichol, nor the world itself, would exist (Furst 1996). That is why, surely, the Huichols have managed to maintain their way of life while others have not. Because their beliefs are so rooted in nature and in their subsistence habits, and because peyote is such a central part of their lives, engaging them in their myths as active participants rather than mere observers from birth to death, Huichols know of no other way. Huichol women eat peyote while they are pregnant and breastfeeding, and children sometimes eat peyote, though this is not encouraged by society until they are older, so peyote and the religious associations around it are a present reality that grips each Huichol, young and old (Schaefer 1996). When Huichols make the sacred pilgrimage, they are at once gods and ancestors, traversing the land for the first time, uncovering the mysteries of life, discovering the other identity hidden within the apparent one. A famous Huichol shaman-artist, Ramon Medina Silva, put it best when he said to anthropolgists Peter T. Furst and Barbara Myerhoff, "[y]ou have seen how it is when we walk for the peyote. How we go, not eating, not drinking, with much hunger, with much thirst. With much will. All of one heart, of one will. How one goes being Huichol. That is our unity, our life. That is what we must defend" (Silva 1996: 202).

References Cited

Benitez, Fernando [1968]. In the Magic Land of Peyote. Texas: University of Texas Press, 1975.

Furst, Peter T. "Myth as History, History as Myth: A New Look at Some Old Problems in Huichol Origins." In People of the Peyote, pp 26-60. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1996.

Lemaistre, Denis. "The Deer That Is Peyote and the Deer That Is Maize: The Hunt in the Huichol 'Trinity'." Translated by Karin Simoneau, In People of the Peyote, pp 308-329. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1996.

Lumholtz, Carl [1900]. "Symbolism of the Huichol Indians." In Memoirs of the American Museum of Natural History; v. 3, pt. 1. New York, 1900. cited at: http://hdl.handle.net/2246/12.

Schaefer, Stacy B. "The Crossing of the Souls: Peyote, Perception, and Meaning among the Huichol Indians." In People of the Peyote, pp 138-168. Alberquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1996.

Schaefer, Stacy B. "Plants and Healing on the Wixarika (Huichol) Peyote Pilgrimage." In Pilgrimage and Healing, pp 179-202. Tuscon: University of Arizona Press, 2005.

Silva, Ramon Medina. "How One Goes Being  Huichol..." In People of the Peyote, pp 186-205. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1996.

 

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1.
          In E. E. Evans-Pritchard's study, Withcraft, Oracles & Magic Among the Azande, he takes an 'intellectualist' approach. This can be said for three main reasons. First, he attempts to determine the functions of each concept in everyday Azande life. Next, he attempts to demonstrate how all these concepts and their relative functions interrelate to form a coherent whole and represent a logical dependent mode of thought that all Azande follow. "In this web of belief every strand depends on every other strand" (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 109). Finally, he attempts to show how this way of thinking is a rational response to the environment and is a means of understanding and manipulating reality (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 64). His method of study differs from that taken by other anthropologists, namely Malinowski and Durkheim, and this is illustrated quite clearly in a few important Azande ethnographic examples from his fieldwork in the late 1920's.
          Malinowski and Durkheim, though disagreeing with one another in their own right, both differ from Evans-Pritchard in their staunch approaches to studying religious beliefs and rites on a couple of key notes. While Malinowski and Durkheim focus on the functions, be them psychological or sociological, of religion, Evans-Pritchard, in his study of the beliefs and practices of the Azande, appears more focused on rationally understanding the beliefs themselves. He does not deny the various social and personal functions that witchcraft as a doctrine imparts upon Azande life, rather he stresses that these functions work together to propel the belief, which in itself serves as not merely a social control but also as a means of rationalizing events, and explaining the unexplainable. Where Durkheim would be satisfied at defining Azande witchcraft beliefs as a means of controlling moral behaviours and maintaining social unity, and Malinowski at easing anxiety, Evans-Pritchard goes further and recognizes the Azande notion of witchcraft as a powerful mental tool for reasoning about and manipulating events otherwise out of human control. Witchcraft is not merely a representation of social values or a product of collective needs. It is a rational undertaking of Azande society to understand and control events.
          In Evans-Pritchard's study of Azande witchcraft beliefs and magic practices, he notes that these beliefs and practices in many ways serve to keep the Azande apart more than they keep them together. Because of the hereditary nature of witchcraft in Azande beliefs, witchcraft has the power to dissolve kin relations. For example, if, in the days before British colonization, an Azande who had been killed as punishment for witchcraft was autopsied to find witchcraft substance in his belly, then the blood brothers of the deceased could claim he was not really their kin at all but a bastard child of their mother's infidelity (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 3). Also, since witchcraft is affected by distance and can only travel so far to attack its victims, the Azande have traditionally lived far apart from one another to avoid injury from the ill-will of neighbours who are potential witches (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 12-13). Durkheim's approach to religion and ritual seems incapable of explaining these observations, as he believes religious beliefs and rites exist to maintain group solidarity and kin relations.   
          This is not to say, however, that Evans-Pritchard does not find ample ways in which witchcraft beliefs for the Azande are very socially-based and orientated towards societal maintenance. He points out that, although witchcraft beliefs are so much a response to misfortune that witchcraft can almost be equated to misfortune, they are also a function of personal relations in Azande society. The oracle consultations made upon misfortunate events to find the responsible witches are undertaken with the names of possible suspects sought out among the community by the victim himself, who is aware of the enmity, grievances and jealousies of his neighbours and has suspicions about many of them beforehand. "Oracle consultations therefore express histories of personal relationships" (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 46). As well, witchcraft beliefs do express the Azande moral codes of behaviour and their social values, as the intention of the witch to cause harm is the critical factor in all events of misfortune that are explained by witchcraft. Witchcraft in Azande society is often called umbaga, which means 'the second spear.' This is a metaphor for explaining how natural causes can be a factor in death but that it is witchcraft which finally kills a man. "The attribution of misfortune to witchcraft does not exclude...its real causes but is superimposed on them and gives to social events their moral value" (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 25). 
          In Evans-Pritchard's study it is evident that magic in Azande society has a direct purpose, whether it is to heal a sick man or enact vengeance upon a witch. Though Malinowski does recognize that magic is different from religion in that it is straight-forward and has a goal or aim in mind, he thinks that magic rites serve chiefly as a protective measure to relieve anxiety about unpredictable events, meaning the efficacy of the magic is not as important as the act itself. In Azande society, however, magic is used for much more than relieving anxiety. It is often used as a way of balancing social tensions, and settling scores. As well, if the magic doesn't work, then the end has not been achieved, and anxiety has consequently not been relieved. Malinowski also believes that religious and magical beliefs are derived from deep personal revelations acquired in solitude. According to Evans-Pritchard, though, belief in magic and its practice in Azande society is structured such that personal revelations are almost entirely out of the question. Azande magic is believed to work solely by virtue of properly ascribed use of medicines and adherence to taboos (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 177). It is a steady and solid tradition which must be followed accordingly. Witch-doctors take medicines and perform dances whereupon revelations do come to them, but it is thought by the Azande that these revelations come from the powers of the medicines themselves, being stirred up by the dancing of the witch-doctors, or from the witchcraft in the bellies of the witch-doctors, not from solemn private reflection or communication with a Supreme Being (Evans-Pritchard 1937). 
          Another point that negates Malinowski's theory about religion and magic is that Azande beliefs can actually be said to raise anxiety, not reduce it. The Azande belief in witchcraft is set up so that anyone can be a witch, even the individual himself who may be unaware of his own witchcraft. "Azande say that you can never be certain that anyone is free from witchcraft" (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 55). This raises anxiety because everyone is therefore a possible threat to the Zande, and he himself is in danger of being accused of witchcraft or even murder, and consequently having vengeance taken upon him. The beliefs about witchcraft in Azande society for the most part raise anxiety. The only context that the reverse is true is in terms of explaining events, especially those involving coincidence. "Witchcraft brings a man into relation with events in such a way that he sustains injury" (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 22). A striking ethnographic example of this is the granary collapse Evans-Pritchard witnessed during his fieldwork. Though the Azande knew that termites were eating the wood away and were aware that people regularly hid under the granary on hot sunny days, the fact that the granary did fall at a time when people were under it needs to be explained. It could have just as easily fallen later on that night, or earlier that morning, when no one was under it to be injured, but it fell when people were under it and caused great injury to the community. The Azande are not willing to simply accept that it just happened that way. To the Zande, every misfortune happens for a reason. The collapse happened because someone possessing witchcraft wished misfortune upon the victims and made it happen when it did. (Evans-Pritchard 1937). The Zande diminishes his anxiety about the unpredictability of such events by believing in witchcraft.
          Witch-doctors function as the main public affirmation of belief in magic and especially of witchcraft (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 109). Unlike Durkheim, who views rites as expressions of group unity that must follow from pre-existing sentiments, Evans-Pritchard seems to support Radcliffe-Brown's contention that rites in themselves can create or at least strengthen sentiments. It is not only his observations of witch-doctor séances that demonstrate this idea, but also the skepticism with which witch-doctors are treated in the Azande community. The Azande seem to know that some witch-doctors can be fakes but still manage to keep their belief in witch-doctors by insisting that other witch-doctors can be genuine. "Skepticism explains failures of witch-doctors, and being directed towards particular witch-doctors even tends to support faith in others" (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 107). The Azande persist in their belief of witch-doctor efficacy by believing in the powers of the medicines the witch-doctors use, and by believing in the witchcraft that the witch-doctors may possess. Evans-Pritchard gave an example of how belief is maintained despite common sense by describing how his servant Kamanga, who was being initiated into witch-doctorhood, was shocked to discover that the objects of witchcraft being removed from witch-doctor patients were really just pieces of charcoal, but quickly recovered faith a few days later. He rationalized his regained belief in witch-doctors by suggesting that they must deceive the patient in order to be able to deliver the special medicines, which are the real cure, to the patient (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 105). Another Zande man rationalized belief in witch-doctors to Evans-Pritchard by claiming that though they deceive the patient with bones and other objects they call objects of witchcraft, the real witch-doctors also make deals with witches causing injury to desist so that the patient may heal (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 107). In both cases, belief in witch-doctors is confirmed by the success of the witch-doctor treatments, and not the means of achieving it.
          The séances performed by witch-doctors in Azande society are vibrant and imposing and very different from everyday activity. The witch-doctor or witch-doctors speak in unusual ways, as if detached from reality, and they dance for hours violently, sometimes even cutting themselves. They threaten to shoot bones or beetles into the audience or eachother if proper enthusiasm isn't displayed, and sometimes will display their authority by picking a bone or beetle out from somebody who they have apparently shot it into. The atmosphere alone contributes to a rise in emotional level and can be a factor in the affirmation of beliefs among the participants. Also, the witch-doctor is convincing not just by his demeanour but also because he speaks vaguely and tells the client just enough for the client to hear in his words the verdict he wants to hear. The client, who has supplied the witch-doctor with a list of suspects beforehand, asks the witch-doctor questions and interprets the witch-doctor's vague answers to satisfy his pre-existing beliefs. His own suspicions about his neighbours or wives are affirmed and given fuel to grow, so that he may act upon them by taking them to the final test, the poison oracle.
          Everything in Azande life is so interrelated that, as Evans-Pritchard points out, "were a Zande to give up faith in witch-doctorhood he would have to surrender equally his belief in witchcraft and oracles" (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 109). "Their idiom is so much of a mystical order that criticism of one belief can only be made in terms of another that equally lacks foundation in fact" (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 107). Hence, because the Zande believes in witchcraft and magic medicines, he therefore also believes in oracles and witch-doctors, regardless of how many 'fakes' he encounters. In this web there is always room for skepticism, so long as it is explained in further mystical terms, and through this scheme beliefs are always potentially there, waiting for rites and situations to bring them out (Evans-Pritchard 1937).
          Evans-Pritchard's study of the Azande is indeed exemplary of the intellectualist approach. He has taken these seemingly separate aspects of their culture and shown how they all work together to create a coherent system of beliefs and practices. Unlike other anthropologists, who have tried to come up with universal theories to explain these things as religious phenomenon, he has instead rationalized Azande beliefs and practices, and contextualized them. He has demonstrated that Azande beliefs both uphold tradition and are adaptable from situation to situation, and that the system is therefore constantly changing.


2.
          Malinowski argues that the Trobriand Islanders practice magic in situations of uncertainty, and that it is therefore as a means of reducing anxiety about events that are otherwise out of human control or understanding that magic is practiced. This shares a common theme with Evans-Pritchard's understanding of the nature of witchcraft beliefs among the Azande. He finds that witchcraft is the explanation given for almost every event of misfortune in Azande life, especially when coincidence is involved or the event is unpredictable, and that their practices in such situations are aimed at controlling or avoiding certain outcomes. The Azande will consult their oracles any time they are faced with uncertainty, whether it is to inquire about the illness of a kinsmen or the undertaking of an important political, social or economic venture. The oracle will tell them if there is witchcraft that will produce a bad outcome, and base their decisions upon these verdicts. This is similar to the magic practices the Trobriand Islanders perform before undertaking dangerous sea-fishing voyages, where the outcome of the voyage is impossible to predict.

3.
          Marcel Mauss's theory about "the residue" found in all magical beliefs is supported by Zande theories about witchcraft and magic. Witchcraft, called mangu, is often conceived of as a generalized force, when the individual witches responsible are not known, and it is the overarching principle that the Azande hold to explain events of misfortune and situations where their magic has failed. The Zande also believe in the soul of witchcraft and the soul of the medicines used in magic, and it is this soul which is thought to be responsible for the effects achieved. This is similar to the idea of mana that Mauss made reference to, which he determined to be a generalized impersonal force of magic potential that permeates all magical beliefs in the society.


 

4.
          Radcliffe-Brown's contention that "rites strengthen sentiments" are supported by the practices of Zande witch-doctors. Witch-doctor séances arouse the audience into heightened emotional states, making them more suggestible, and also offer an outlet for the social tensions of the group to be discussed where it is otherwise impossible to do so. This leaves it open for suspicions to surface and be confirmed during the séance, supporting beliefs the Azande have about eachother's intentions, as well as solidifying their belief in witchcraft as a whole. The witch-doctors behave in such wild ways that belief in the magical powers of their medicines and their ability to see witchcraft is strengthened just by witnessing the act. As well, since skepticism of witch-doctors exist beforehand, it is the outcome of the séance or surgery that ultimately results in the subsequent belief in the witch-doctor’s efficacy.

5.
          Malinowski would agree most with Hertz's second explanation for why the corpse is feared, the explanation that it is because spiritual essence of the deceased remains until the body is properly buried and this essence can torment the living with the threat of further death. Malinowski would agree most with this explanation because it characterizes how the death of a person is more than just the death of a social entity, that it is a physical reality affecting all those in proximity regardless of status or relation to the deceased. It causes anxiety and distress to all members of the community equally.

6.
          Mauss disagrees with Durkheim in his comparison of magic and religion by viewing magic as a collective process, not a solitary endeavour as his uncle proposed.

7.
          If we applied Van Gennep's rites of passage model to the fate of the soul, it would be the second stage, the liminal stage, that would be the most threatening to the living. This would be the case, according to Hertz, because the individual is in transition from being alive to being dead, and his/her soul is suffering while the corpse decomposes before it is given proper burial. This is a threat to the living because the soul may be spiteful and try to cause injury.

8.
          Malinowski's theory of magical practices states that the elements of magic are associated with emotions rather than the logic or ends of the magic, and that magical efficacy is not based on logic but on the formula or spell itself, and that even the utterance of the words has consequence and meaning. Evans-Pritchard points out that this is not so in Zande magic, and explicitly negates Malinowski's theory by stating that although the Azande use spells, "[t]hese spells are never formulae" and "there is no power in the address itself...The virtue of a magical rite lies principally in the medicines themselves" (Evans-Pritchard 1937). He states that the choice of words is not important, nor is the order of the words or actions of the rite, and that the efficacy of the magic "depends on the logic of the rite" (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 177). Azande magic practices are performed to achieve definite ends and, consequently, the way they are performed "is determined solely by technical needs and common sense" (Evans-Pritchard 1937: 177), not by emotions or symbolic meaning.

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