In Afro-Brazilian Religions, José Eduardo Porcher offers a significant and in-depth introduction to Afro-Brazilian religions from a philosophical perspective. The book seeks to explore the myths, practices, and rites of these religions through a philosophical lens, demonstrating their relevance to the philosophy of religion. Furthermore, Porcher argues that in order to properly consider minority religions such as Afro-Brazilian traditions, the field must undergo a methodological expansion – moving beyond approaches that focus solely on doctrinal aspects.
In the first part of the book, Porcher introduces the historical and social contexts of Afro-Brazilian religions, highlighting their most striking characteristics. He explores their origins during the period of slavery, emphasizing how they emerged as a form of resistance against European impositions on the spirituality of enslaved Africans. Moreover, he does justice to the diversity of Afro-Brazilian religions, outlining their various denominations, their predominant ethnic origins, and the processes of syncretism and hybridization within them.
Given the vast number of Afro-Brazilian religious traditions, Porcher focuses primarily on Candomblé, both for the sake of clarity and due to the impracticality of covering them all. From there, he delves into some of Candomblé’s defining features, such as the invocation of Orixás (deities), semi-divine ancestors (Eguns), and spirits of power. He pays particular attention to the belief that every individual is governed by an Orixá, who becomes manifest during religious ceremonies. Additionally, he examines the complex initiation process (feitura) required to enter the tradition. Other key elements of Candomblé, such as the concept of Axé and the significance of blood, are also introduced here and explored in greater depth in later parts.
After outlining key characteristics of Afro-Brazilian religions, Porcher, in Part 2, embarks on a fascinating discussion of Orixá mythology, focusing on a conceptual analysis of whether Candomblé recognizes a supreme God. He argues that studying a religion’s mythology is essential, as it encapsulates much of its worldview. Porcher highlights the challenge of accessing Candomblé’s mythology, given its oral transmission. However, he notes that certain compilations by anthropologists, sociologists, and ethnographers – particularly those from the Nagô tradition – can offer valuable insights and help clarify important aspects of Candomblé.
The central question Porcher seeks to address through his analysis of Candomblé mythology is whether anything exists akin to the Supreme God of the Judeo-Christian theistic tradition. Before introducing specific myths, he first explores three distinct interpretations of the mythology surrounding Olorum-Olodumare, the Orixá most comparable to the theistic concept of God. Each of these interpretations presents Olorum-Olodumare in a different light. The first position asserts that he is a supreme creator closely resembling the Judeo-Christian idea of God. The second view acknowledges Olorum-Olodumare as supreme and the creator but denies that he possesses the attributes of transcendence, omnipotence, omniscience, and omnibenevolence. The third position, meanwhile, regards Olorum-Olodumare as simply one among the other Orixás.
After presenting key myths about Olorum-Olodumare, Porcher critiques the first position, arguing that it does not hold up to scrutiny. He challenges the notion that Olorum-Olodumare is transcendent, omniscient, or omnibenevolent and questions whether he is truly the sole creator of the world in Candomblé. Instead, Porcher suggests that the most that can be inferred about Olorum-Olodumare is that he is the most powerful being, though not omnipotent, and that he is capable of committing acts of evil in order to maintain order in the universe. In this sense, he concludes that the first position is clearly mistaken and that there is no strong basis for equating the theistic God with Olorum-Olodumare. He suggests that the second and third positions provide more promising frameworks for further exploration of Olorum-Olodumare’s nature.
In the third part of the book, Porcher engages with the significant and often controversial debate on the role of sacrifice in Candomblé. He begins by drawing attention to the near absence of literature on sacrifice within the philosophy of religion, arguing that the prevailing prejudice against this concept is misguided, given its presence in numerous religious traditions. He also advocates for a philosophical engagement with ethnography as a means of gaining a deeper understanding of the importance of sacrifice.
Porcher then embarks on a thought-provoking discussion of the role of animal sacrifice in Candomblé, justifying it as a fundamental aspect of the religion, particularly in relation to the concept of Axé – the vital force that unites all beings. Blood plays a central role in this tradition, as it is the primary vessel of Axé, and animal sacrifice serves to transfer this life force to sacred objects and the Orixás. Such rituals are essential, as they facilitate the exchange of Axé and the process of spiritual renewal. Porcher contends that much of the controversy and prejudice surrounding sacrifice in Candomblé stems from a lack of understanding of its function and significance within the religion’s ritual framework. He argues that ethnographic approaches can help dispel misconceptions and foster a more informed perspective on these practices.
Following his discussion of the meaning of sacrifice, Porcher, in Part 4, turns to the study of sacred objects, ontology, and the formation of Candomblé practitioners. He examines the significance of certain sacred objects within Candomblé – objects that are often misinterpreted in academic literature. Porcher highlights their role as vessels of Axé, the vital and creative force that permeates all things in Candomblé and other Afro-Brazilian religions. He also explores the importance of these objects in both ritual practice and the daily lives of adherents. Porcher then discusses the phenomenon of incorporation and how possession by an Orixá is expressed. He examines how each Orixá is represented differently depending on the individual they manifest through. Additionally, he engages in an important discussion of the role of dance and the body in Afro-Brazilian traditions, emphasizing that these religions place great significance on the body – so much so that they are often regarded as religions of the body.
The idea that Afro-Brazilian religions – particularly Candomblé, Xangô, and Batuque – are religions of the body leads Porcher, in the fifth part of his book, to advocate for a philosophy of religion that acknowledges the knowledge produced through the body. He argues that much of the philosophy of religion to date has focused solely on religious beliefs – privileging the intellectual dimension of faith while overlooking the wisdom of the body. For Porcher, an embodiment paradigm within the philosophy of religion is essential, particularly for understanding rituals and their significance across different religious traditions. Such a paradigm, he contends, reveals how the body serves as a medium for creating meaning within religious practice.
To illustrate this, Porcher draws on numerous examples from Afro-Brazilian religions, particularly their ritual dances and embodied experiences, where knowledge and language are learned, shared, and transmitted through practitioners. This exploration ultimately leads him to conclude his book by advocating for what he terms embodied epistemology – a framework that challenges dominant epistemologies within the philosophy of religion. He argues that this approach is better suited to accounting for elements that are often disregarded in traditional philosophical discourse, such as many of the practices and experiences found in Afro-Brazilian and other minority religions.
Having made this brief summary of José Eduardo Porcher’s book, I would like to make some observations that reflect the impressions I had about this work. First, I would like to emphasize that the book is an excellent introduction to what could be called the philosophy of Afro-Brazilian religions. It does justice to important elements of these religions, especially their ritualistic and mythical elements.
One of the book’s greatest strengths is the author’s philosophical treatment of Orixá mythology, which highlights key distinctions between Candomblé and theistic religions. Porcher takes the available mythology seriously, drawing from it significant and thought-provoking philosophical insights. In my view, his approach is both distinctive and stimulating, demonstrating the philosophical importance of treating mythology as a fundamental component of a worldview. Moreover, this discussion provides a valuable foundation for future studies in comparative philosophy of religion, particularly between theism and Afro-Brazilian traditions.
In his discussion of ritual, the author remains true to his argument that philosophy must take religious rites seriously. Adopting a groundbreaking approach to the philosophy of Afro-Brazilian religions, he examines the central elements of Candomblé rituals, describing their structure and profound significance for practitioners. Porcher’s treatment of these rites fosters a more nuanced understanding of ritualistic elements that are often overlooked or hastily dismissed by the philosophy of religion. One notable example is sacrifice – an aspect largely absent from discussions of this field – which Porcher positions as central to Candomblé. His analysis encourages a more thoughtful and informed consideration of such practices in future studies.
As I mentioned earlier, Porcher, for the sake of clarity, focuses much of his work on Candomblé, briefly touching upon elements of Batuque and Xangô. Some readers may argue that this focus overlooks other Afro-Brazilian religions, but in my view, this approach prevents him from falling into the trap of treating Afro-Brazilian religions as a monolithic concept. These religions are diverse, with a wide range of rites, myths, and practices. By concentrating on Candomblé, Porcher demonstrates that a serious study of Afro-Brazilian religions must respect this diversity, and perhaps the best way to approach this is by focusing on key elements within particular practices, building a broader map over time. This method allows us to appreciate the peculiarities, differences, and similarities among them. However, this is a long-term endeavour, and Porcher’s book can serve as a valuable example of how to approach it.
Finally, I would like to emphasize that Porcher’s book is an essential introduction for researchers and students of Afro-Brazilian religions. However, it is also a vital work for the philosophy of religion as a whole, offering an innovative example of how the discipline can be approached. The book is valuable both for established researchers and for use in philosophy classrooms, where it can demonstrate the importance of a multicultural approach within the field. As suggested by its epigraph – ‘I’ll teach you differences’ (Shakespeare) – the book teaches us about differences and underscores the necessity of considering these differences in our academic studies.
