As we saw in Evans-Pritchard’s study of the Azande, witchcraft can provide a means by which to explain the unfortunate and unexplainable. For the Azande, there is no such thing as mere coincidence, and by understanding events as the result of witchcraft, the Azande frame their worldview as not one guided by notions of fate but rather one in which they have a level of control over. Evans-Pritchard discussed that one can do witchcraft without intending to, but intention is not needed for the impact of witchcraft to be felt. Therefore, if witchcraft is suspected, the affected party has the ability to remedy it by accusing a suspect and demanding atonement for their acts. While one may not have control over another’s actions, or even their own at times, this framing of events as the direct results of certain actions, either intentional or not, allows for the affected to hold those causing harm accountable, which gives the afflicted party a sense of agency in a situation where they would otherwise not have much control. This similar sense of agency regarding witchcraft was addressed in Michael Jackson’s study of the Kuranko of Sierra Leone.
Like the Azande, the Kuranko believe that witchcraft can explain many unfortunate and otherwise unexplainable phenomena. However, Jackson points out a critical difference in how these societies experience witchcraft: Kuranko witchcraft is confession-oriented as opposed to the accusation-oriented witchcraft of the Azande. Confessions of witchcraft are often done by women, although not exclusively, who are severely ill and close to death. The shift in orientation from accusation to confession gives agency not to the affected party as with the Azande, but to the party suspected of witchcraft, as the women who confess do so in an attempt to claim power they otherwise lack in their day to day lives.
Jackson points out that among Kuranko, as is the case in other patriarchal societies, society is stratified in such a way that places women as inferior. As a result, they hold very limited power and rarely participate in social spheres outside the home. However, further stratification can occur within the home when more than one wife is taken. Junior wives are at the mercy of not just their husbands, but the primary wife as well. Kuranko women often experience what Jackson calls “kinship stress” which fuels “the resentments that nurture witchcraft[.]” This also explains why many of the victims of witchcraft are immediate and extended family members and family members of the husband or co-wife. The confession of witchcraft, thus, becomes one of the very few ways that many Kuranko women can exercise any sort of autonomy within their limited social position. As Jackson states, “…it is important to recognize that witchcraft confession is also a desperate stratagem for reclaiming autonomy in a hopeless situation” (100). Kuranko women use their confessions of witchcraft “to give voice to long-suppressed grievances and to cope with [their] suffering by declaring [themselves] the author of it.” For the shape-shifter Mohammed Fofona, the confession of shape-shifting, a form of witchcraft, also empowered him. His lack of power, which stemmed more from low socio-economic status and lack of wealth and not gender, was confronted and diminished by his claims of shifting into an elephant. “As an elephant he is in his element, empowered by a sense of amplitude and control” (112).
The Kuranko see practitioners of witchcraft as lacking the necessary qualities of humanity: straightforwardness, openness, and mindfulness of others. Witches are none of these and are therefore not deserving of respect. They are not even seen as being people as they do not deserve the respect that comes from being regarded a “person”. However, through Jackson’s work, we can see that Kuranko people who confess to witchcraft are motivated to do so by a very real, very human desire: to achieve a feeling of power, control, and agency not afforded to them by any other means.
Jackson, Michael. “The Witch as a Category and as a Person” and “The Man Who Could Turn into an Elephant.” Paths Toward a Clearing: Radical Empiricism and Ethnographic Inquiry, University of Indiana Press, 1989, 88-118.
Hi Ashley,
Your post is very thoughtfully written and offers an interesting contrast between witchcraft practiced by the Azande and the Kuranko!
I initially found the primary difference between the two cultural practices to be the intention of the witchcraft, as you stated in the beginning of your post, however after reading your post and reflecting on the materials further, I realized the larger difference is the cultural ramifications of witchcraft. As you stated in the beginning of your post, Azande witchcraft is more accusation-oriented, shifting the blame away from the person actually practicing the witchcraft. This version of witchcraft effectively absolves the person of any guilt, as it is understood they may not be in complete control of their actions. By contrast, witchcraft as practiced by the Kuranko places the responsibility on the person practicing, as it is confession-based. While these represent interesting differences in intention behind practicing witchcraft, I think the more sufficient difference comes in the reason for practicing witchcraft. To the Azande, witchcraft is used to explain misfortune and phenomena for which they have no other explanation. It is also understood the individual may not have had any agency in the witchcraft, as it is seen to take over the person. However, as you describe in your post, the witchcraft practiced by the Kuranko seems to be much more intentional. You brought up an interesting point in describing that the women have very little agency both within the home and outside of it, and proclaiming themselves to be practitioners of witchcraft gives them a sense of autonomy and power they cannot find elsewhere.
I especially like the point you bring up in the last sentence of your post, in describing that while this form of witchcraft does not seem to solve the common human condition of suffering as witchcraft in Azande culture does, Kuranko witchcraft still seeks to address another symptom of the human condition. This witchcraft allows people with very little power in society an outlet of agency and control. This concept reminds me of the idea of the hermeneutics of suspicion we considered last class, in the idea that Jackson was able to find an explanation for witchcraft that addresses a universal problem of the human condition. This explanation of witchcraft subtly tells readers he does not truly “believe” in the witchcraft as the Kuranko do, but he acknowledges the problem caused by a lack of power in the lives of many women is a very real and valid issue for which a solution has been found within their cultural framework.
Hi Ashley!
I thought your blog post was incredibly well-written and insightful. I appreciated the contrasts you draw between the roles of witchcraft in the Azande versus the Kuranko societies.
As Shivani wrote above, at first, I also thought of the primary differences between the two societies as the intentions of witchcraft. As you describe in your post, a key aspect of this contrast is not necessarily the intention of witchcraft but the personal utility witchcraft can lend. Understanding this has allowed me to procure a much greater insight into Jackson’s reading. I found his dive into the patriarchal and polygamist Kuranko society illuminating. In my initial reading of Jackson’s work, I felt a bit skeptical about his analysis that confessing to being a practitioner of witchcraft is “a desperate stratagem for reclaiming autonomy in a hopeless situation” (100). At first, in trying to embrace a cultural relativist standpoint, reading this did not sit right with me because I felt as if it belittled the Kuranko culture and its women. However, as I thought more about it after reading your post, I feel that this analysis is doing nothing more than any other cultural analysis–striving to identify explanations that allow ourselves and others to understand our cultures. Indeed, it is similar to many of the other ethnographies we have read for class in this way, not just as it is to Evans-Pritchard’s in content. It also makes me reflect upon my own cultural practices and wonder which of them have personal, cultural impacts in the way that witchcraft does for the Kuranko. In this same vein, I also found it important that you included detail about the shape-shifter Mohammed Fofona. This detail is important because it supports my second rather than my first notion of Jackson’s analysis. For him, witchcraft was a way to regain power despite his low socio-economic status rather than his gender. Additionally, I believe the importance of this quote to Jackson’s work extends beyond that to more general ethnographic practices. As I learned in Cultural Methods, before settling on a concrete analysis of a cultural phenomenon, it is important to observe/interview people from all different groups of a society: i.e. various genders, ages, socio-economic statuses, etc. If Jackson had merely honed in his witchcraft study on women, we might not have gained this broader insight from Fofona about its function in society.
Hi Ashley!
Thank you for your insightful blog! I really enjoyed your comparison between the Kuranko and Azande witchcraft understanding. It is important to draw similarities and differences between cultural practices among different people to see how traditions are carried out. I agree that the Azande do not believe in misfortunes. All evils and negative outcomes are produced with a purpose in which the Azande are able to pinpoint and accuse one person of witchcraft based on certain oracles. However, the Kuranko have a slightly altered view. They seem to accept misfortunes as an “active recognition that is an inevitable part of life (99).” The Kuranko deal with confession while the Azande focuses on the accusation regarding the methods of witchcraft. What interested me was your final sentence in the blog that the Kuranko people confess to witchcraft so that they can achieve a feeling of power. When I was reading Jackson’s article I understood how self-confession leads to the “last freedom” and allows one “to reclaim autonomy in a hopeless situation (100).” I agree with your final statement in the blog as the practice of withcraft allows the Kuranko people to express themselves and gain power and freedom through expression.
Hi Ashley!
Thank you for your insightful blog! I really enjoyed your comparison between the Kuranko and Azande witchcraft understanding. It is important to draw similarities and differences between cultural practices among different people to see how traditions are carried out. I agree that the Azande do not believe in misfortunes. All evils and negative outcomes are produced with a purpose in which the Azande are able to pinpoint and accuse one person of witchcraft based on certain oracles. However, the Kuranko have a slightly altered view. They seem to accept misfortunes as an “active recognition that is an inevitable part of life (99).” The Kuranko deal with confession while the Azande focuses on the accusation regarding the methods of witchcraft. Similar to what Shivani mentioned earlier, what interested me was your final sentence in the blog that the Kuranko people confess to witchcraft so that they can achieve a feeling of power. When I was reading Jackson’s article I understood how self-confession leads to the “last freedom” and allows one “to reclaim autonomy in a hopeless situation (100).” I agree with your final statement in the blog as the practice of withcraft allows the Kuranko people to express themselves and gain power and freedom through expression.
Hi Ashley,
I really enjoyed reading your post—especially your analysis of the differences between Azande witchcraft and Kuranko witchcraft. In a really clear and succinct way, you opened my mind to a more expansive way of understanding the differences between these two responses to the human condition.
The difference between the Azande’s accusation oriented cultural response and the Kuranko’s confession based cultural response are both responses to different cultural scenarios. The different social structure within the Kuranko and the relative autonomy granted via a witchcraft confession (due to the more patriarchal social organizing) while inspiring a different type of social order, still stems from the same human condition based need for autonomy as the Azande’s.
This realization is a humbling one because what at first may seem like a less constructive manifestation of a religious belief, in reality, can just be an inspired manifestation resulting from a pre-existing or co-existing negative or disproportionate social order.
Hi Ashley!
Your post is a really interesting examination of the reading. The comparison of the accusation based Azande witchcraft and the confession based Kuranko witchcraft practices highlights the difference in the roles Witchcraft can play in its respective cultures. To continue with this idea, how each culture treats those identified as witches is also important to look at. While the Azande focus on purifying witches, the Kuranko focus more on punishing witches and generally, leaving them to die. The two reactions fit with how they each practice Witchcraft. As you noted, Azande Witchcraft appears as less intentional or controllable when compared to Kuranko Witchcraft. The idea of control and why it is important in Kuranko Witchcraft is complex and you truly showcase the complexity of it by discussing the patriarchal society and how confessing to Witchcraft is a way to gain autonomy for some women (and occasionally men). Your blog offers an insightful look at the intention behind the confession rooted Witchcraft and how it provides answers for those struggling with the unexplainable as well as power to those whose power is unattainable. The idea is captured perfectly in the last sentence where you share the inexplicable human desire behind Witchcraft.
Hi Ashley,
I really enjoyed reading your blog post! I found your discussion on agency and power dynamics within the Kuranko to be especially insightful. I feel this shows not only how power and agency, but also how gender dynamics play a role in witchcraft among the Kuranko. In some ways, I felt the confession-oriented aspect of witchcraft was almost a way for the Kuranko women to make a statement in society. For the women, the practice of witchcraft is a way to reclaim autonomy from power relationships, give meaning and agency to illness, and even air grievances against family members. The way I saw it, the stereotypical Kuranko ideas of witches are largely influenced by a patriarchal society. The confession-based explanation emphasizes overcoming the subservience to husband/seniors as well as control over brothers and children. Furthermore, like the Azande, witchcraft is also used as way to bring meaning to unexplainable events. Therefore, illness is used as a means for confession to witchcraft because it gives meaning and agency to a women’s condition. Through confession, a woman can die with agency. So, since she is going to die anyways, at least now her death will include some sort of meaning for society.
Hey Ashley!
I enjoyed reading your post. I especially thought it was insightful how you said the people of Azande use witchcraft as a sense of agency in order to take control of uncontrollable and unexplainable situations. I think that is such an excellent way to put it. Evans-Pritchard emphasized how Witchcraft’s role is similar to the roles of Christianity, Marxism, and Astrology in Western society. I also find it interesting that this sense of agency doesn’t diminish just because Witchcraft doesn’t deliver the right answers or doesn’t predict the expected outcomes just as Christianity or Maxisim or Astrology’s failures doesn’t hinder the beliefs Western society has on these sets of ideas. This comparison was really crucial for me in understanding that we absorb these sets of ideas with no questions because we grew up with these ideas in our lives. The same goes for Witchcraft and the people of Azande.