Rastafari and the Arts

An Introduction

Darren J. N. Middleton

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781134625031
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Ethnic & Tribal Religion

Drawing on literary, musical, and visual representations of and by Rastafari, Darren J. N. Middleton provides an introduction to Rasta through the arts, broadly conceived. The religious underpinnings of the Rasta movement are often overshadowed by Rasta's association with reggae music, dub, and performance poetry. Rastafari and the Arts: An Introduction takes a fresh view of Rasta, considering the relationship between the artistic and religious dimensions of the movement in depth. Middleton's analysis complements current introductions to Afro-Caribbean religions and offers an engaging example of the role of popular culture in illuminating the beliefs and practices of emerging religions. Recognizing that outsiders as well as insiders have shaped the Rasta movement since its modest beginnings in Jamaica, Middleton includes interviews with members of both groups, including: Ejay Khan, Barbara Makeda Blake Hannah, Geoffrey Philp, Asante Amen, Reggae Rajahs, Benjamin Zephaniah, Monica Haim, Blakk Rasta, Rocky Dawuni, and Marvin D. Sterling.

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A Smart Way to View Rastafari

Introduction

When I, an Englishman, assumed a position teaching religion in the American South, I thought of it more as an experimental exercise in social dislocation and one which would, if I am honest here, probably prove short-lived. Fast forward twenty years, I am now a Full Professor at Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas. Even more surprising, as a transplanted Limey devoted to liberal politics and the Labour Party, I actually delight in my students, most of whom come from and remain immersed in the conservative, evangelical world. They are, after all, in the Lone Star State, home to the mega-church and cowboy Jesus, though they might be more apt to describe Texas as a model of Christian America. While the disconnect between my own theological leanings and that of my students invites numerous challenges, my students do, nevertheless, take religion and matters of faith seriously. Or to reverse the phrase, faith matters to those who sit in my classroom.

My ‘World Faiths’ course is typical. Students might not personally agree with the principles and practices of the major global traditions or even the varied forms of Christianity explored. They are confronted and disturbed by religious diversity and pluralism. But they readily grasp the idea of the Holy as mysterium tremendum et fascinans (fearful and enthralling enigma); they treat sacred texts like the Torah and the Qur’an with a certain reverence; and they wrestle honestly with the problem of evil and suffering. Religious doctrines, rituals, and experiences—and the people who embody them—make sense to my students. I find it refreshing to share this starting point with them. It also helps that when making biblical references, I can assume a certain literacy and working knowledge of the major characters and stories such as Moses in the Bulrushes, the cleansing of the Temple, and the descent of the Spirit at Pentecost. Class, then, involves a sense of immediate emotional investment and intellectual seriousness—that is, until we get to Rastas.

“Rastas, a religion,” they scoff; but still, “what fun,” they also exclaim enthusiastically, sensing a break from the ‘heavy stuff.’ And so, I go with it for the first class period. Students share stories about their images of and encounters with Rastas—as few know the term Rastafari. One male student described a plush toy, a Rasta banana-man (aka ‘Rastanana’) complete with dreadlocks, which he won at the Texas state fair.¹ Rasta is a hairstyle, say many. Another woman thought Rasta was more about cuisine as she detailed her favorite meal at a local eatery—Jamaican jerk chicken and Caribbean spices flavoring this ‘Rasta Pasta.’ Most know that Rastas listen to a rhythmic music but they see it as the Jamaican version of The Beach Boys and Bob Marley as the Caribbean equivalent of Jimmy Buffett. If my students tend to stereotype Buddhists as awfully serious individuals who are not allowed to desire anything and Hindus as world-negating polytheists, Rastas are laid-back, beach-wandering, marijuana-smoking ‘dudes’ with distinct hair and chillin‘ tunes. And so, a very different challenge emerges, that of helping students view Rastas as religious and thus, as part of the density of the course. It is this challenge that my first chapter addresses.

Before we engage issues of artistic production, commercialization, and globalization, all of which have led to positive as well as negative stereotypes and are essential to this book’s argument, we need to assume a particular starting point—Rastafari is a religion with much to teach us about the nature of beliefs and practices outside of institutional life and power-driven establishments. When I push students to analyze Marley’s music and lyrics, for example, they begin to recognize that he is not so much the black version of Buffett, but an Amos-like prophet of Old Testament proportions, keen to criticize capitalism, ‘Babylon’ in the language of Rastafari, as well as to promote social justice (Gen 11; 2 Kgs 20:12–19; Dan 4:30; Rev 17:2–5). We also learn that while Rastafari do not eat ‘Rasta Pasta,’ at least as a rule, they do consume their own symbolic foods, just like Jews (Passover seder) and Christians (Eucharist). In fact, Rastafari adhere to a strict dietary code, often consuming only organic fruit and vegetables, which Rastas see as natural or ‘ital’ sustenance. Practicing this austere lifestyle facilitates ‘livity,’ which is ‘dread talk’ (the language of Rastafari) for living in concert with the vital, pulsating energy that inhabits and animates most, if not all, natural phenomena.² Generally speaking, Rastafari religion lives and breathes through such ital food rituals and charismatic musician-leaders.

The purpose of studying Rastafari, and one reason for writing this book, is to move beyond preliminary stereotypes and summary judgments by introducing students to the many and varied ways Rastafari shapes patterns of religious practice and belief in today’s world. Here, I am not trying to ‘prove’ that Rastas are ‘religious,’ for Rastafari often resist this category, as we will see, but I am eager to show, from a scholarly standpoint, how and why they might be viewed in this manner. Reading Rastafari religiously pushes us past what we think we know about one of the world’s most misunderstood groups, and it brings us to the point where we explore the many questions that Rastas ask about life’s meaning. This opening chapter focuses on such questions, using Ninian Smart’s dimensional theory of religion to investigate the observable features of Rastafari as it is experienced, practiced, and believed. I pay special attention to the material or artistic dimension of Rastafari because, without the arts, the most famous form of Rastafari creativity and practice, our grasp of this religion would be greatly diminished.

Defining Rastafari

A massive scholarly consensus emphasizes the difficulties of trying to classify or pinpoint Rastafari. Historically, Rastas have affiliated to one of the three major mansions or houses (Jn 14:2)—akin to a religious denomination or a spiritual subgroup—within the movement.³ But because there is extensive diversity both between and among the Nyabinghi, the Bobo Shanti (The Ethiopia Africa Black International Congress), and the Twelve Tribes of Israel, distinguishing between essential and non-essential ideas and practices has proved challenging. Although the Twelve Tribes of Israel and the Bobo Shanti consult the Bible, for example, the Nyabinghi shelve it, or they did so until fairly recently, because they believe it symbolizes white, Christian, and colonial cruelty. Instead, the Nyabinghi structure their ritual action around a finely calibrated liturgical calendar, which observes dates linked to Ethiopia and its last Emperor, His Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie I—dates like January 7 (Ethiopian Christmas); April 21 (anniversary of Selassie’s 1966 visit to Jamaica); July 23 (Selassie’s birthday); September 11 (Ethiopian New Year); and November 2 (Selassie’s coronation). In contrast, the Bobo Shanti congregate for weekly sabbath, a more biblical structuring, and the Twelve Tribes of Israel worship together during monthly meetings. A fourth mansion, the School of Vision, which Priest Dermot Fagan founded in 1994, only complicates the task of defining Rastafari because Fagan’s group, which resides in Jamaica’s Blue Mountains, mixes traditional Rastafari Afrocentrism with atypical claims about UFOs, extraterrestrial biological entities, and government-mandated microchips; an interview with musician and baptized member of the School of Vision, Asante Amen, appears in chapter three.⁴ The Kingston-based Rastafarian Centralization Organization has tried to unify the above-mentioned mansions, without much success, and thus, for the foreseeable future, many commentators expect that practical as well as ideological diversity will prevail among Rastafari. British Rasta poet Benjamin Zephaniah writes:

My friend who is a brain surgeon is continually being told that he’s not a real Rasta because he doesn’t sound Jamaican enough; another friend who is a psychiatrist has been told she can’t be a Rasta because she doesn’t cover her hair, and, because I don’t smoke weed, absolutely no one believes I am a real Rasta … [Rastafari is] a place to go for young black people that don’t want to join gangs, the Nation of Islam, or go to their parents’ church. Those who are interested in black and African history, and those who are not prepared to buy into western consumerism will join the Rastafarian family to try to see the world through alternative spectacles.⁵

Eighty years ago, Rastafari seemed restricted to Kingston’s projects. These days, the “Rastafarian family” spreads out across the world, as Donisha Prendergast’s documentary film, Ras Ta—A Soul’s Journey (2010) confirms.⁶ And the movement’s internationalization will only boost, not diminish, the variety or hetereogeneity that Zephaniah notes.

Recent studies on Rastafari in West and South Africa, in Japan, and in New Zealand reveal assorted behaviors and beliefs; and, such accounts stimulate scholars to be circumspect.⁷ “There are those both within and outside the Rastafari community who seek to authoritatively delimit the boundaries of the movement,” Richard Salter says, but “Rastafari’s rapid global expansion affords us few commonly observable elements by which to do so,” which explains why he thinks that to address what is Rastafari, “we first must acknowledge that there is no such thing as Rastafari, but rather only Rastafaris.”⁸ I agree. Wherever two or three Rastas are gathered, either in Malmo or Mumbai, there one can expect to find difference or otherness, even disagreement; and thus, if we hope to grasp this wide-ranging and relevant movement, we must proceed cautiously.

Emphasizing Selassie’s centrality represents a careful place to start and understand Rastafari practice. False adherents trust in King James (and his Bible), reggae musicians Morgan Heritage sing in “Hail Rastafari,” but true believers trust in Haile Selassie I, earth’s rightful ruler. Generally speaking, Rastas hold to the divinity of His Imperial Majesty Emperor Haile Selassie I (1892–1975), King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah. Such eminent titles echo biblical passages, including Ps 68:31, 87:3–4; Rev 5:5, 17:14, and 19:16. In Amharic, an Ethiopian language, Haile Selassie denotes ‘Power of the Trinity.’ He was also known as Lij Tafari Makonnen, formerly Ras, which means ‘Crown Prince’ Tafari (the family name). Selassie was crowned in 1930, deposed in 1974, and died in 1975; in 1992 Rastafari throughout the world made pilgrimage to Ethiopia, Africa’s Holy Land, or Zion, to celebrate the centenary of the late Emperor’s birth, and some Rastas returned in late 2000 to participate in the ritualized reburial of the Emperor’s remains in Addis Ababa’s Trinity Cathedral. Conferences and concerts also marked the 120th anniversary of Selassie’s birth in late July, 2012; here, Rastafari gathered to recite scripture and read poetry.⁹

Numbering between 700,000 and one million followers internationally, present-day Rastafari continue to ponder Selassie’s place in their worldview, as recent studies show.¹⁰ Some Rastas, like those in Brazil and Mali, qualify the movement’s initial convictions, viewing the Emperor as God’s emissary, not God-in-the-flesh, and as an arresting symbol of Africa’s ancient wisdom and beauty. Other Rastafari, like those in most Caribbean islands, persist in paying tribute to Selassie’s cosmic or divine supremacy. Also available through my personal website (www.darrenjnmiddleton.com), the following three paintings depict such divinity, or Christ in his “Kingly Character,” to invoke the title of Garnett Silk’s much-admired reggae song.¹¹ And these paintings, like Silk’s music, shape as well as reflect followers’ beliefs about Selassie. From Carriacou, Grenada, which is located in the Southern Caribbean, the “Last Supper” mural (n.d.)—the result of an unknown outsider or self-taught artist/group of artists—is equal parts New Testament, Leonardo da Vinci, and local Rasta creativity.

Notice how Christ-Selassie, complete with Ethiopian crown, presides over the Last Supper and uses coconuts instead of bread; how the disciples are black and dreadlocked (Num 6:1–21; Jer 8:21; Dan 7:9); and, how the chillum pip...