Bilu - 1988 - (The Inner Limits of Communitas - A Covert Dimension of Pilgrimage Experience)

The Inner Limits of Communitas: A Covert Dimension of Pilgrimage Experience Author(s): Yoram Bilu Source: Ethos, Vol.
16, No. 3 (Sep., 1988), pp. 302-325 Published by: Wiley on behalf of the American Anthropological Association Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/640490 . Accessed: 01/05/2013 10:08
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at . http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp
.
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.
Wiley and American Anthropological Association are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Ethos.
http://www.jstor.org
This content downloaded from 146.50.154.64 on Wed, 1 May 2013 10:08:09 AM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
The
Inner
Limits
of
Communitas:
A
Covert
Dimension of
Pilgrimage Experience
YORAM BILU
COMMUNITAS: A CRITICAL REVIEW Victor Turner's seminal work on pilgrimage, elaborated in a series of articles and books (Turner 1973, 1974a, 1974b, 1976;Turner and Turner 1978), stands out admidst other theories of this institution as a singular attempt to create a grand scheme, "applicable to all cases in all societies" (Morinis 1984:255). In this endeavor the ethos of "communitas," supposedly emerging among pilgrims in the liminal (or liminoid, see Turner and Turner 1978) situation of moving from the familiar to the anti-structural center "out there," serves as a conceptual cornerstone. Borrowed from earlier work on ritual and symbolism (Turner 1969), communitas is defined as "a spontaneously generated relationship between leveled and equal total and individuated human beings, stripped of structural attributes" (Turner 1973:216). The bonds ofcommunitas are marked by a spirit of fraternityand comradeship, approaching the I-Thou or Essential We relationship in the Buberian sense (Turner 1974a:47). "In adYORAM BILU holds a position in the Faculty of Social Sciences, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem.
302
INNERLIMITSOF COMMUNITAS
303
dition, individual responsibility is now extended from the domain of kin and neighborhood relations in localized normative systems to that of the generic human 'brother' and 'neighbor' who might be anyone in the world but whom one should 'love.' The 'other' becomes a 'brother';specific siblingship is extended to all who share a system of beliefs" (Turner 1973:207). Turner is cautious to distinguish between the purest form of communitas, which he designates "existential" or "spontaneous," and "normative" communitas where, "under the influence of time, the need to mobilize and organize resources, and the necessity for social control among the members of the group. . .existential communitas is organized into a pervading social system" (Turner 1969:132). Pilgrimage is a form of normative communitas. As such, it is still bounded by the structure of the religious system within which it is generated and persists. The ethos of brotherhood is not as ubiquitous and pervasive as to eliminate major structural divisions, "but it attenuates them, removes their sting" (Turner 1973:221). Cloaking communitas with structure, however, even regarding it "as a symbol or remote possibility rather than as the concrete realization of universal relatedness" (Turner 1973:220), has not spared the concept a recent upsurge of critical reviews on the part of students of pilgrimage. Apart from the contention that Turner relied heavily on secondary sources from which he quoted selectively, excluding data that did not fit his theory (Morinis 1984:257), most of the criticism is empirical in nature: anthropological studies of pilgrimage in various cultural settings, including Thailand (Pruess 1974), Morocco (Eickelman 1976), southern Peru (Sallnow 1981), and West Bengal (Morinis 1984), have not yielded, on the whole, communitas-type relationships. Although the ideology of equality and congeniality manifests itself in the pilgrimage in a variety of ways, factionalism and conflict may be no less salient concomitants. By and large, it seems that ordinary reality invades the pilgrimage to an extent irreconcilable with Turner's structure-communitas dichotomy, as the boundaries between groups and contingents are not dissolved, and participants are still segmentalized into structurally defined, unequal roles. Given this gap between model and data, Morinis concludes that "to date, no study of a place of a pilgrimage tradition by a social scientist has confirmed what Turner has postulated as a universal process of pilgrimage" (1984:258).
304
ETHOS
Unequivocal as the above conclusion may appear, the task of putting the communitas model to an empirical test is far from simple. Turner's concepts are eloquently articulated but ambiguously defined. Crossing individual and social levels of analysis, all-embracing in scope and metaphorically rich, their fuzziness is derived also from the fact that they are grounded more in symbolic processes than in empirical realities. The concept of communitas is all the more vague as the "existential"-"normative" distinction renders it distantly and broadly applicable. When Turner distinguishes, for example, communitas from the Durkheimian notion of "mechanical solidarity," arguing that only in solidarity unity depends on "in group, out group" oppositions (Turner 1973:216-217), he seems to supply ammunition to his critics, since such oppositions are prevalent in the ethnographic literature on pilgrimage. It is not clear at all, however, whether he applies this distinction to both types of communitas. Unlike existential communitas, normative communitas may not be conflict-free,and the boundaries that separate it from "mechanical solidarity" or other structure-based concepts are less sharply delineated. Its introduction dilutes the concept of which it is part, whereby making it less vulnerable to incongruent data. Most of the attacks launched at Turner's model of the pilgrimage stem from a common ground. Heralded by social anthropologists who conducted intensive studies of pilgrimage at particular centers, they reflect the discontent of skilled field-workerswell aware of the particularitiesand complexities of a pilgrimage setting with a grand theory focusing on universal processes (seen as oversimplified and reductive) and based on sparse, selectively chosen data. As Sallnow has put it, "The study of pilgrimage, by the very nature of the phenomenon, demands that a prioriassumptions concerning the relationship between religion and society be abandoned... .The link between ritual and secular processes should be regarded as analytically determinable in each case, rather than simply assumed ... [T]he simple dichotomy between structure and com-
munitas cannot comprehend the complex interplay between the social relation of pilgrimage and those associated with secular activities" (1981:179). Morinis, who designates Turner's model somewhat narrowly as a "psychological theory" (1984:254), argues that considering communitas an essential feature of the pilgrimage is tantamount to reducing the nature of this institution to the satis-
305
faction of emotional needs. Other facets of the human character, such as the intellectual, social and spiritual, which may also find expression in the polymorphic setting of the pilgrimage, are thus left unattended. THE THESIS: "SIBLING RIVALRY" AS AN IMPEDIMENT TO COMMUNITAS Against the background of the above criticism, the contribution of yet another attempt to question the indispensability of communitas to an understanding of pilgrimage may be considered modest at best. If I nevertheless pursue this threadbare goal, it is because the path appears revealing, adding an important aspect of pilgrimage experience hitherto overlooked. My thesis is situated in psychological, rather than social anthropology. It suggests that the pilgrimage setting, in addition to fraternity-fostering features, may also constitute a fertile matrix for germinating negative sentiments of vying and animosity. In accounting for these sentiments, the notion of siblihg rivalry lends itself as a useful conceptual tool. Sibling rivalry is defined "as the usual family situation wherein brothers and sisters engage in an intense and highly emotional competition, one against the other for the love, attention, affection, and approval of one or the other or both of the parents" (Campbell 1981:556). Beginning with Freud (see, for example, 1955a, 1955b, 1961) and Adler (Ansbacher and Ansbacher 1964), the concept has been extensively utilized in the psychoanalytic and general psychological and psychiatric literature dealing with personality development and interpersonal relations (Bank and Kahn 1982; Dunn and Kendrick 1982; Lidz 1976). Compared with other psychodynamic concepts, the notion of sibling rivalry does not convey a special theoretical import; its importance lies in the fact that it subsumes experiences and sentiments, deeply rooted in early family life, that may permeate one's behavioral patterns in adulthood and influence his or her relationships with others. Developmentally, psychoanalysts distinguished between two forms of sibling rivalry: a "regressive" type, unconsciously fed by the idea that the other siblings get more, which is related to the oral psychosexual stage, and a "progressive" type, in which the other is viewed as bigger and better, centering on the phallic stage (Piers and Singer 1953; Schoeck 1970).
306
ETHOS
I suggest that sentiments associated with sibling rivalry, particularly of the "oral" type (see below), reverberate under the surface of the pilgrimage situation, in which the devotee is confronted with other adherents ("siblings") who also flock to the sanctuary, seeking the attention and help of an omnipotent father figure. Whereas in personality research "sibling rivalry has probably received far more attention than the advantages of sibling relationships" (Lidz 1976:225), the pilgrimage scholarship has usually taken the opposite course. The data to be presented below are meant to bring to the fore these relatively neglected reverberationsof rivalry in the pilgrimage.
In certain respects my thesis appears closer to Turner than to his critics. Unlike the latter, it does not seek to highlight "structure" in the pilgrimage; like Turner's concept, it dwells on near-universal primordial sentiments, concentrates on the emotional facets of the human psyche, and espouses the metaphor of "siblings." However, these sentiments are contraposed to communitas in their potential effect to furthercompetition and divisiveness rather than cogeniality and unity. This is not to say that malevolent affect is prevailing in the pilgrimage. I believe, however, along with most of Turner's critics, that the complex and multivocal reality of this institution leaves room for the expression of divergent, sometimes contrasting sentiments. An attempt will be made later to specify the prerequisites for the rise of these "negative" sentiments and their linkage to communitas. The thesis is examined against two types of material. The first type includes selective ethnographic data from pilgrimages in Israel, mainly related to organizational patterns and underlying religious traditions, while the second is based on dreams collected from Jews of Moroccan extraction during those pilgrimages. COMMUNITAS AND INTERGROUP BOUNDARIES: THE CASE OF MEIRON Among the pilgrimages conducted in contemporary Israel the one that stands out in popularity and scope is that of Rabbi Shim'on Bar Yohai (acronym: Rashby), a charismatic mystical figure of the 2nd century, who is the alleged author of the most sacred text in Jewish mysticism, the Bookof Splendor (Zohar).The hillula (annual celebration commemorating the saint's death anniversary) of Rabbi
307
Shim'on falls on the 33rd day after Passover (Lag Ba'Omer)and is the occasion of a mass pilgrimage to his tomb at Meiron, near the town of Safed, with numbers estimated in excess of 150,000 in recent years. About 80 percent of the pilgrims are of Moroccan extraction. Their predominance in the hillulashould be understood against the cultural background of thriving hagiolatric traditions in their country of origin (Ben-Ami 1984; Stillman 1982), strongly influenced by Maghrebi maraboutism (Eickelman 1976; Geertz 1968; Westermarck 1926). Since Rabbi Shim'on was deemed primusinter paresin the densely populated pantheon of Jewish saints in Morocco, and the Zoharwas a popular object of study among the masses, it was only natural that they adopted his sanctuary as their main pilgrimage center in Israel. The second large group of pilgrims to Meiron, much smaller than the former one but almost as conspicuous, is that of mystically oriented Ashkenazi Hasidim of East European extraction.
Since these groups are markedly different in cultural traditions and lifestyle (although they share a similar mystical orientation based on a common religious canon), and their contacts outside the hillula are sporadic and meager, the Lag Ba'Omerpilgrimage may constitute another test case to the notion of communitas: does the mass gathering at Meiron serve as "a means of binding diversities together and overcoming cleavages" (Turner 1973:220)?After several consecutive visits to Meiron on Lag Ba'Omer,my impression is that, although the pilgrimage is invested with the usual flair of joviality and cheerfulness, communitas-like relationships definitely do not transcend ethnic boundaries. The Moroccans and the Hasidim flock in and around the sanctuary, converging under the canopy of a charismatic figure they all venerate; but their styles of celebrating the hillulaare markedly different, and they rarely intermingle. The Jewish Moroccan pilgrims follow the pattern of the typical Maghrebi zyara (literally a "visit," the word also means "pilgrimage" in Arabic). Many of them spend several days at Meiron, camping in a picnic-like atmosphere on the forested slopes surrounding the site. They gather there in groups of kin and friends of all age levels, males and females together, feasting on slaughtered sheep, consuming large quantities of spirits, singing, dancing and recounting (usually in the Moroccan dialect ofJudeo-Arabic) the miracles
308
ETHOS
of the saint. The ascent to the tomb, the spiritual climax of the hillula, takes but a negligible part of their time at Meiron. Most Hasidic groups, by contrast, are male cohorts ofyeshiva(religious academy) students organized around their rabbis. Women, if present at all, are strictly separated from the men. Their stay at Meiron is temporally limited to the hillulatime and spatially circumscribed to the precincts of the sanctuary. There they engage themselves in devotional prayers at the tombs of Rabbi Shim'on and other sages and in ecstatic dances on the roof of the shrine. On Lag Ba'Omer the Hasidic fathers bring their 3-year-old sons to the inner courtyard of the sanctuary where the halaka (first haircut) ritual takes place. The closed ranks of the Hasidim, their black uniforms, and their engrossment in spiritual devotional activities contribute to their image as ritual specialists, in control of the "sacred zones" of the shrine. They usually avoid the encampments and the gigantic colorful fair, where the convivial atmosphere is at times indulgent, if not frivolous, and where the food, whether sold or delivered free, is not prepared according to the high standards of dietary law they adopt. Even inside the sanctuary they are dismayed by the permissive behavior of the Oriental (Mid-Eastern) masses, particularly with regard to the separation of the sexes. Their segregation is visibly indicated by a special railing placed in the internal courtyard. Designed to separate men from women, the railing, in fact, separates the male Hasidim from the rest of the congregants. The differentialdispersal of the two groups, and the relative paucity of contacts between them, neither reflect nor promote communitas-like relationships. Indeed, one anthropologist, after a short visit to Meiron, has proposed that it can be "read" as a symbolic representation of the unequal ethnic relations in the large (Jewish) Israeli society (Brown and Mohr 1982). The Orientals, many but loosely organized, are dispersed in the periphery of the shrine, while the Hasidim, despite their relatively small numbers, dominate the central ritual zones within the sanctuary. While I find this "correspondence" view grossly oversimplified, it is clear that it could not have emerged in a communitas fostering atmosphere.
VYING FOR THE SAINT'S BLESSING: SOME ETHNOGRAPHIC CLUES
The thesis underlying this work goes beyond the we-they opposition implied in the indissolubility of intergroup boundaries during the pilgrimage. The notion of sibling rivalry assumes an I-they op-
309
position, with the potential to transform in fantasy the celebrant crowd, even the ethnically homogeneous contingent, into a collection of individuals vying for the saint's grace. These sentiments, however, do not constitute guidelines for immediate action, as they stem from intrapsychic processes that are partly unconscious, and their overt expression runs counter to the prevailing socialethos of fraternityand unity. Nevertheless, even without attributing anydisplay of intragroup (interindividual) divisiveness and conflict to fantasies and sentiments associated with sibling rivalry, their covert presence in the pilgrim's mental life may limit and corrode communitas-like sentiments and relationships. It might be speculated that the institutional emphasis during the pilgrimage on symbols of communitas serves, among other things, to suppress feelings of rivalry and animosity detrimental to its functioning. Extrapolating from Freud's treatment of social phenomena involving heightened group solidarity, communitas would be deemed, indeed, a reaction formation against rivalry and envy in the first place: "What appears in society in the shape ofgemeingeist, esprit de corps,'group spirit,' etc., does not belie its derivation from what was originally envy" (Freud 1955a:121). Whatever its origins, however, the success of this societal mechanism is not guaranteed. The temporary removal of social barriers among densely concentrated individuals may intensify processes of social comparison, resulting in envy and competition. Where people meet as "free, equal, leveled, and total human beings" stripped of structural attributes of status and rank, indeed as siblings, the potential for rivalry may be grossly enhanced. The existence of "anti-communitas"-in this case "sibling rivalry" concerns among the pilgrims at Meiron and other shrines, may be deduced from a variety of clues, mostly subtle and covert. It should be noted, first, that the "saint-as father, devotees-as-children" metaphor is widely used by the participants at the hillula; hence the idiom to articulate inchoate experiences associated with sibling rivalry is available in the context of hagiolatry. Second, most of the pilgrims are coming to Meiron as supplicants, beseeching Rabbi Shim'on to intercede on their behalf in a wide variety of life problems. The congestion of people in needaround the site of a venerated figure, believed to be nurturing and capable of relieving the devotees' sufferings, is very akin to a familial scene of siblings vying
310
ETHOS
for their parents' care and affection. Although addressing petitions to the saint is a universal feature of pilgrims' behavior, the motivating factor underlying a pilgrimage need not necessarily be a bothering problem. When other reasons are involved (for example, religious obligation, completing a vow), the sibling rivalry metaphor is likely to be less pertinent psychologically. The "oral" dimension in the interactions between the saint and the supplicants is particularly accentuated in the Jewish Moroccan hillula,dominated as it is by excessive eating and drinking. Those pilgrims who can affordit bring with them sheep or goats, which are dedicated to the saint. The animals are slaughtered in the local abattoir, and the meat is served in the se'uda,the festive meal in which is an indispensable part of the hillula.The honor of the tsaddiq, feast, then, concludes a bilateral act of nurturing in which the supplicant "feeds" the saint (with a slaughtered animal dedicated to him) only to be fed back (by consuming the saint's meat and enjoying the blessing it contains). The ritual of selling the saint's glasses at auction, common in many Jewish Moroccan hillulot(plural), captures the same bidirectional flow of nourishment. The glasses, dedicated to the saint, are filled with araq, then granted to the highest bidders who consume their contents. More than by mere differentialdisplay (and conspicuous consumption) of wealth, rivalry and envy are likely to be instigated in these situations by the differential access to the saint's blessing that this wealth accords.' The preceding point adds an important corrective to the sibling rivalry thesis. The pilgrim-as-supplicant situation would probably not elicit intense sentiments of rivalry and divisiveness if it were dominated by a religious image of divine grace that is boundless and everlasting, defying any notion of finite quantities and short supply. The critical factor, then, for installing a sense of contest and competition in the pilgrimage setting is some culturally ingrained notion of scarcity or limited good regarding the saint's blessing. That such a notion may underlie religious behavior is suggested by Foster (1965), who considers the image of limited good as a prevailing cognitive orientation in peasant societies. While it is not suggested here that this ethos is as dominant for the Israeli pilgrims of Moroccan origin, I believe that their sense of divine grace, as culturally shaped
INNER LIMITS OF COMMUNITAS
311
by Maghrebi maraboutistic traditions, is reconcilable with the idea of limited good. In Morocco, God's grace (baraka),with which saints are endowed, is "often referredto as a physical substance.. .which can be gleaned by a physical contact with a marabout or his shrine" (Eickelman 1976:160). Most of its manifestations are concrete, tangible and bounded, therefore they can be transferred, appropriated, divided, or taken away. The vicissitudes of personal baraka(discernible from institutionalized-inherited-baraka), and how it is physically communicated to, or usurped by, a would-be saint, is a major theme in Moroccan hagiography. In many of these legends the baraka, inherent in concrete substances such as the saint's food, vomit or spittle, is obtained in the context of a fierce competition among as a limited resource is conveyed, for expeers. The notion of baraka in a ample, legend depicting the emergence of a marabout of Sidi Ali ben Hamdush, one of the two leading saints of the Hamadsha: "Sidi Ali drank all of the water in Sharqi's water bag. The saint has been in the habit of giving a little of the water-a little of his baraka-to forty people each year, butSidi Ali tookit allfor himself' (Crapanzano 1973:37, emphasis added). In his thorough examination of baraka, Westermarck (1926:135it an sensitive as substance, liable to be extremely 261) depicts robbed and spoiled by external influences. He presents various magical practices blatantly designed to increase one's own blessing at the expense of others (see, for example, 1926:41-43, 249).2 One such insidious (though not magical) practice is portrayed in the biblical story of Jacob depriving Esau of their father's blessing. This story lucidly integrates sibling rivalry with the notion of blessing as finite and irrevocable. In certain respects, the spatial organization of the pilgrimage reinforces the image of divine blessing as bounded and scarce. The very notion of making a journey to a well-defined physical site, often far off and not easily accessible, which is deemed the proper place to receive the saint's blessing, is congruent with that image of scarcity. Since the Lag Ba'Omer pilgrims, particularly those who come for a long stay, try to pitch their tents as close as possible to the sanctuary, there is a strong competition on the few encampments that are adjacent to it. Many families and groups would send representatives to stake a claim on these desirable locations as early as a
312
ETHOS
month before the hillula.When these early comers are asked to explicate their readiness to invest so much of their time to that end, their accounts usually involve practical considerations with the spiritual notion that their encampments are particularly endowed with the saint's blessing. The boundedness of the visit to the sacred site is not limited to the spatial dimension. The pilgrimage constitutes, in essence, an interface of a sacred place and a sacred time. People can and do come to Meiron any time, all year round, but these individual pilgrimages are negligible in comparison with the multitude of adherents overflowing the site on Lag Ba'Omer.Hillulot commemorate the birth believed to fall on the same and death anniversaries of the tsaddiqim, most is deemed date This auspicious to appeal for particular day. the saint's mercy, since on that day his presence in his burial site is believed to be more radiant and strongly felt (Ben-Ami 1984:42). However, this notion of abundant spiritual accessibility on the day of the hillula (Lag Ba'Omerin the pilgrimage to Meiron) entails a very limited physical accessibility, as a gigantic human stream, composed of masses of devout adherents eager to reach their goal, incessantly pours into the tomb hall. Inside the huge hall, people squeeze their way to the tombs of Rabbi Shim'on and Rabbi Eleazer, his son, trying to touch the lattices that surround them and, engrossed in ecstatic prayer, to stay in their vicinity as long as possible. As a token of gratitude to the saints, but also to establish physical contact with the unreachable tombs, they shower them with unlit candles, money, oil bottles, colorful scarves, and other personal possessions. These moments inside the shrine, fraught with fervid excitement, constitute the spiritual climax of the pilgrimage, but they are also characterized by hastiness and crowdedness that may accentuate the nature of the saint's tomb as a limited resource. This aspect of limited accessibility is more strongly felt in other pilgrimage sites in Israel where the sacred spaces of the saints are smaller than in Meiron. Two examples ensue. The alleged tomb of Honi Ha-Me'agel, a charismatic figure of the early Talmudic era, is located in a small ancient burial cave, near the town of Hatsor in the northernJordan Valley. During his hillula the visitors, approximately 20,000, have to wait a long time in line, as the cave cannot contain more than two to three dozen pilgrims at a time. In contrast, the heat, the thick smoke of the candles, and the
313
rebukes of the attendant at the gate who regulates the flow of the vistors, make the stay inside the cave short and hasty. A similar picture is seen on the hillula day of Rabbi David uMoshe, a popular Jewish Moroccan saint whose Israeli abode in Safed attracts 20,000-30,000 devotees each year. In 1973 a local inhabitant (whom we discuss later) had a series of dreams in which the saint informed him he had followed his adherents, the Jews of Morocco, to Israel. He urged him to transform one of the rooms in his apartment into a shrine where he, the saint, would reside. The fact that the sacred site here is a tiny room in a modest apartment, situated in a densely populated neighborhood, makes the problem of access, and even of finding a place to park and camp, all the more difficult. During the hightime of the hillula,night people cannot stay inside the shrine for more than a few minutes. Beyond the spatially and temporally bound nature of the pilgrimage, the notion of limited good also applies to those events that are deemed direct manifestations of the saint's grace. Water suddenly exuding from the tomb or its vicinity, for example, is taken as such a manifestation in Jewish Moroccan hagiolatry, constituting a good omen as well as a precious remedy, to be drunk sparingly or smeared on ailing organs (Ben Ami 1984:75). Like most miraculous phenomena, however, this one is also rare and unreliable, leaving most pilgrims empty-handed (or rather dry-handed) and "orally" frustrated. By the same token, instantaneous miraculous cures, the most straightforwardindication of the saint's assistance, occur very infrequently in Meiron and other pilgrimage sites. Even visitational dreams, the culturally prescribed vehicle for establishing direct contact with the saint and receiving his help, are experienced on the hillulanight by a relatively small group of congregants.
VYING FOR THE SAINT'S BLESSING IN VISITATIONAL DREAMS
I consider visitational dreams as particularly apposite data against which to examine the "limited good-sibling rivalry" hypothesis. As noted before, sentiments encouraging divisiveness and competition run counter to the social ethos of the pilgrimage, embodied in ideal form in Turner's communitas; therefore, it is unlikely that they will be granted open expression in that context. Rather, they will be repressed (when the conflict between egotistic wishes and socially endorsed sentiments is intrapsychically located) or suppressed (when the social ethos remains extetnalized). Dreams often
314
ETHOS
constitute an outlet to conflict-bound mental contents that are compelling and emotionally upsetting, yet otherwise inexpressible. The dream specimens presented below are taken from a corpus of visitational dreams collected at Meiron (see Bilu and Abramovitch 1985 for a general review of these dreams) and other pilgrimage sites dominated by Moroccan Jews during the years 1980-1984. It is interesting to note that although the plots of many of these dreams take place in the sanctuary during the hillula-in this sense there is a marked continuity between wakefulness and dreaming-most of them focus on the dreamer-saint dyad, to the exclusion of other characters. This individualistic trend asserts the nature of the pilgrimage as a sheer personal act, even though it is celebrated together with many others. When the presence of others is marked, however, it is often associated with concerns of limitedor differential to the sacred burial site. accessibility The following dream, reported by a young woman, indicates this concern. As with all the dreams presented in this work, it was translated from the Hebrew. Notes and clarifications are presented in parentheses.
and there were many I dreamt that I was in a real trouble; I come to the tsaddiq policemen and many people. And I was upstairs, and I almost fell down. So I called, "Rabbi Shim'on Bar Yohai"; I uttered it [his name] several times. And I found myself [in a place where] admission was not allowed; they didn't let anyone in, no one could enter. Only I entered this place. It was as if they made room for me only, like they do for Begin [then Israel's prime minister] or another celebrity. I had the feeling that they gave me a free scope-near the saint. And I stayed, and I had enough time to make many blessings; and the policemen showed a lot of respect for me, I don't know [why]; I was nothing special, but that's what I saw in my dream. Not once, many times I have had dreams of this kind, unique to Rabbi Shim'on.
This self-enhancing dream typically takes place where it is dreamt, in the sanctuary of Rabbi Shim'on, reflecting the special atmosphere there during the hightime of the hillula. In the opening scene the dreamer, engulfed in the crowd, is located on the upper level of the shrine, away from the tomb, and cannot even maintain a foothold against the pressing congregants. The theme of limited access becomes all the more apparent when the celebrants are denied admission to the tomb hall. The dreamer, however, is favorably discriminated, being the only one given space near the saint and en-
INNER LIMITS OF COMMUNITAS
315
joying a VIP's treatment. Note that she stresses her temporal prerogative as well: she is given ample time to make her requests unhastily. The next dream, reported by a middle-aged woman, reflects the same concerns with some variation:
Last week I dreamt that just before Lag Ba'OmerI came here with my husband, two kids, father and mother. We reached the saint and we stood [waiting]. Then I said, "This is our chance to enter the saint's tomb before it is filled." I approached the saint in order to enter; suddenly I see [that] the saint is closed. Then I saw the rabbi and the attendant [of the shrine]. I said to the attendant, "Tell me please, is this the time to close the saint? This is the time to open the saint! All the people are coming to him." So he turns to the rabbi, "The woman asks why the saint is closed." Then the rav [rabbi] gave me the keys and I opened [the shrine of] Rabbi Shim'on Bar Yohai. Suddenly I began to kiss his tomb and his feet; everything that I request he approves by nodding his head. Then I came to [the matter of] 3 unmarried daughters. I said, "Rabbi Shim'on, I have 3 daughters, still unmarried, will you help me?" He said, "My word! If they will be religiously observant." That's what he said. I went back, I wanted to leave; suddently I said, "Oh, now we should get hold of the place [near the tomb], let's put a blanket there, before it is filled." I turned to my mother, "Come on, we will take you, now that there are not so many people; we will bring you to the tsaddiq, so you may enter too. ..."
As in the former dream, here too the notion of limited access appears in the service of self-aggrandizement. The dream starts and ends with the wish to approach the saint's tomb "before it is filled." Again, the wish is frustrated at first, as the sanctuary is found closed, only to gain full satisfaction later on, after the dreamer is honored with the privilege to open the holy site. Allusions to interpersonal tension and competition are more subtle here than in the first dream, in which the dreamer succeeded in establishing contact with the saint at the expense of other supplicants. Here the protagonist appears as acting altruistically, on behalf of all the people attending the hillula; but the fact that she is chosen to open the sanctuary grants her, beyond sheer honor, an advantage over the other pilgrims in reaching the tomb when it is still vacant. It is very important to note that saint and site are interchangeable in the speech of Jewish Moroccan devotees, as exemplified in phrases such as "we reached the saint" or "I opened Rabbi Shim'on," appearing in both dreams. This confounding emerges from the ingrained folk belief that the saint stays alive in his tomb, and is fortified by dream apparitions in which he is seen in person. The flexible transformation from the burial site to its resident is manifested in the present dream when the supplicant begins to kiss
316
ETHOS
the tomb and proceeds by kissing the saint's feet. This merging makes the association between overcrowded or inaccessible burial site and preoccupied, inattentive saint all the more compelling. Note, again, the dreamer's unhurried tone when she appeals to the saint and his emphasized responsiveness. Since she is the first to come to him, he is able to cater to her needs undisturbed. Toward the end of the dream, however, the bothering subject of rivalry over limited space in the sacred site breaks through the protective cover of the highly gratifying situation in which the single devotee isolates herself with the saint. Rather than allowing others open space in the sanctuary after completing her petitions, the dreamer hastens to stake a claim there and returns to bring her mother, as well, to the tsaddiq. Having at one's disposal the key to the healing shrine in a dream is a very pertinent and relieving metaphor in the context of supplicants flocking around the tomb and vying for the saint's (limited) resources. Indeed, the key motif recurred in other visitational dreams as well. One of these dreams relates to the aforementioned new site of Rabbi David u-Moshe in Safed; it was reported by the mother of its initiator who suffered from pains in her legs:
At night I am asleep, I see his wife coming-the wife of Rabbi David u-Moshe. She [ritual says to me, "Come, I'll hold your hand and you'll come down to this mikveh" bath]. I said to her, "Oh, my legs, I can't go down by foot." She said, "Come down!" [authoritatively]. I bathe and bathe. I said to her, "Please give me the key, so I can come here whenever I have pains." She said, "Youhave it for good."
In this dream the permanent possession of the key to the source of healing indicates the dreamer's uniquely privileged position: being closely related to the initiator of the shrine, she can enjoy its blessing without limit. The dream content is strongly female-oriented as the saint is replaced by his wife, and the ritual bath, a locus of purification for observant women, substitutes the burial site as the wellspring of cure. In some dreams differential accessibility is accounted for in terms of the dreamer's personal circumstances or conduct. The following dream, for example, conveys the recurrent idea that the saint is more open to those who stand more urgently in need of his intercession:
I was very sick and I came here, and there were many people around. Suddenly someone stood up and said [to the dreamer], "Come in, come in." Someone else
317
said, "All can enter." He said, "No! She was sick, she is the first!" In the morning I told everyone, "Come and see. Rabbi David u-Moshe sent me his remedy." [The last sentence alludes to her waking experience of being cured.]
The dreams reported up to now all emphasize the positive side of differential accessibility. As might be expected, they give vent to competitive concerns over the saint's resources; but at the same time, in accord with their function of wish fulfillment, they provide reassurance against these concerns, demonstrating the privileged position granted to the dreamer vis-a-vis other supplicants. Sometimes, however, the same theme may be employed more negatively in a dream, in expressing uneasiness, if not guilt feelings, following some transgression or misconduct. In the context of hagiolatry, the most prevalent concern is associated with a reluctance to participate in the pilgrimage (see Bilu and Abramovitch 1985:87). The following dream, reported by a middle-aged woman, illustrates how limited access is applied as a retribution for such a reluctance:
[In the prologue the dreamer explained that she could not come to the hillulathis year.] So I sleep at night, and suddenly I went to Meiron.. .and I went to the grocery [before] and I bought various things, candles, etc. So I tried to move forward, no room; there was a cemetery, people around, all this. There was a small door, I wanted to pass through; a small child came, closed the door and said to me, "No, don't pass through here." I said, "Why, darling, look how many things I have with me." He said, "You said that you don't want to come, therefore I won't open the door for you." I said [imploringly], "Darling, look, I can't, and I'll never say anything again." I gave him half-pound, and I gave him candies. He opened the door and I bent down [to enter]. Then my sister asked me, "Where [have you been]? Why does it take you so much time?" I said, "Look what a place; there was a cemetery, and I couldn't pass." She said, "You see! Never say anything; see what you did? So never say anything."
As in the first two dreams, here too the road to the saint is blocked in the opening scene. But in the former dreams the protagonists maintained and asserted their priority in gaining access to the saint, while here the dreamer's entrance is delayed, and she finds herself behind the other celebrants (as implied in the sister's reproach). The setting of her delay communicates a strong sense of culpability: whereas the former dreamers negotiated their entrance with authority figures (policemen, the rabbi and the attendant of the shrine, the tsaddiq's wife), she has to entreat, to bribe in fact, a small child. The humble gatekeeper, as well as the small door that forces the dreamer to bend down while entering, reflect her inferiority and hu-
318
ETHOS
miliation, if not her lesser share in the saint's grace, implied also in her belatedness. Women, more profoundly involved with the saints in general, are overrepresentedin all of the hillulotand, consequently, in the dream collection as well (see Bilu and Abramovitch 1985:85). It is only natural, therefore, that in quite a few dreams the competition over limited access is colored by concerns pertaining to women, the most compelling of which are linked with cultural notions of female inferiority and impurity. For the sake of brevity I present here only a few dream excerpts, taken all from yet another novel shrine in the town of Beit-She'an (in the northernJordan Valley), which reflect these female variations on a theme. Like the "House of Rabbi David u-Moshe" in Safed, the sacred site in Beit She'an was initiated by a local Moroccan-born inhabitant following a series of visitational dreams. In these dreams Eliyahu (Elijah) the Prophet, the saint-to-be of the place, informed the initiator that the entrance to Paradise is located in his backyard.3 The dreams of visitors to the shrine are particularly fraught with images of limited access. It may well be that the very notion of the site as a gate or a bridge to heavenly spheres, exacerbates the ordinary problems of finding a foothold in a small place, situated in a tiny yard. In one of the Beit She'ani dreams the protagonist finds that the road to the site is packed with cars. She wants to enter the yard, but someone arrests her, saying, "This is a holy place, you don't enter." She nevertheless sneaks in, assuming a deferential position ("If someone will say no, I'll leave."), only to find out that "all [the congregants] are men, no women here." In another dream the prohibition to enter is self-imposed. The dreamer asks what is the usage of the site and is informed that "Here men enter and make blessings." She concludes, "If it is for men, I am a woman, I am not allowed in." Since a well-established cultural precept forbids menstruating women to approach saints' sanctuaries (Ben-Ami 1984:88-89), female dreamers profusely incorporated this ritually polluting status into their dreams of limited access. One woman, for example, stops in her dream at the gate of the shrine in Beit She'an, insisting that she cannot come in. She waits for her friend outside, comforting herself with refreshments specially brought to her by the owner of the
319
shrine across the fence. While this treat may be conceived as a compensation for her unfavorable status-the saint's blessing (the refreshments) is bestowed on her despite her disengagement from him-there is a sense of disappointment at the end of the dream: "I waited until Shula [her friend] came out. I said to her, 'It's a pity I came here and didn't enter; I can't, I am not [ritually] clean.' " In other dreams dealing with menstruation the plot unfolds more positively. Thus, a woman suffering from a chronic stomachache is invited by a mysterious figure coming out from the sacred spot to light candles there and to take some oil to spread over the ailing organ. She refuses, stating that she has her period now, but he insists, "Nevertheless you may enter." In contrast with the preceding dream, the message here is of special affinity with the saint whose blessing she is entitled to get even in a ritually inauspicious time. Female inferiority, and its apotheosis in front of the privileged world of men, is depicted in the following dream from Safed, the tone of which is more dramatic and blatant than the former dreams of the Beit She'ani women. In the context of a competition over the saint's limited resources, it may well reflect (and relieve) the concerns of women, equipped only with their niya (Arabic: faith), as to the quality of their affinity with the saint in a culture that assigns religious and ritual roles exclusively to men (cf. Mernissi 1985).
I dreamt that I reach some place full of green plants, inside a sort of a cave. I enter inside and it is full with candles, full with carpets. And all the members of the Hevra Kadisha[literally "holy fellowship," the communal group responsible for ritually preparing the dead for burial] of Safed were there. They began to yell at me, why do I enter there, what is my right to be there. Suddenly the tomb is opened and I see an old man ... [a detailed description of the tsaddiq follows]. He was very mad at these people. "Why are you yelling at her? You have no right to yell at this girl." And he raised his hand, called me, gave me his blessing. He returned to his tomb and everything came back to this place.
In this dream, sibling rivalry associations reverberatecloser to the surface than in former examples. The humble girl who is denied access to the saint is the only one who deserves his grace. The preponderance of women among the dreamers in my sample may raise doubts as to the generalizability of the limited access-sibling rivalry hypothesis. Perhaps we deal here with a female-specific concern, fed by the deprivations and frustrations that are women's share in a male-oriented society. This alternative explanation does not hold, however, when the dreams of the initiators of new pilgrim-
320
ETHOS
age centers in Israel-such as "the House of Rabbi David u-Moshe" in Safed and "the Gate of Paradise" in Beit She'an-are meticulously examined. It appears that this distinct group of saint-impresarios, the prime movers of hagliolatric revival among Moroccan Jews in Israel, is preoccupied with themes of rivalry over divine grace. Since men are slightly overrepresented here, it seems safe to conclude that these themes transcend gender boundaries. To illustrate the salience of this preoccupation, two pivotal dreams reported by A., the builder of "Rabbi David u-Moshe's House" in Safed are presented. The first dream preceded the apparition of Rabbi David u-Moshe, involving another popular tsaddiq, Rabbi Ya'acov Abu-Hatsera. It was precipitated by a dispute over the organization of his hillula in the local synagogue.
I saw myself going in a plateau [made] of sand, and it was terribly hot there. Then I was running together with all those people [the disputants]. I was so thirsty that I almost fainted. I began to tremble all over my body. Suddenly I saw a mountain on which a rabbi was seated holding a big book in his hand. All the grass around him was made of big snakes. He looked around and said, "Woe to the one who enters this place. I'll send the snakes against him?" I stood up and he said, "No, you can come, you shouldn't be afraid; come one, hold this stick." All the snakes lowered their heads, and I entered. He filled a glass of water and I drank it. He said, "Do you know who I am?" I said, "No." He said, "I am Rabbi Ya'acov AbuHatsera." Then he said, "You should proceed [in your way]; you won't be lacking anything."
In this dream, a significant precursor of the future revelation of Rabbi David u-Moshe, sibling rivalry looms high. The protagonist and his peers, the synagogue attendants, are vying for the saint's blessing, poetically depicted as a glass of water on a hot day in the desert. Note the emotional intensity of the competitive situation: without water people in the desert are doomed, but the attractiveness of this precious resource is counterweighted by the venomous blockade around the saint. This potentially lethal situation is transformed into a desirable state of oral gratification for the initiator, the only devotee to gain access to the saint. More than in the former dreams, it seems that the images and emotions here are genuinely fed by early, "oral" centered fantasies of sibling rivalry. The second example involves one of the two "Announcements to the Public" depicting the first oneiric apparitions of Rabbi David uMoshe, that A. distributed all over the country. This promulgation
321
of his initiatory dreams, enthusiastically received by MoroccanbornJews, ex-devotees of the saint, was the critical factor that transformedA.'s private vision into a thriving public institution, the most successful of all the new pilgrimage centers in Israel.
On Saturday morning I see in my dream that I am walking on a narrow road, and I reached a hill. Above the hill I see a small town surrounded by a wall without any access. I keep walking on the road and I meet two soldiers who asked me where I am going and warned me that the place is very dangerous; [they added that] there are many guards who will deny me entrance beyond the walls ... [the dreamer pertinaciously continues his journey unperturbed by the escalating dangers]. At the end of the road I met an old woman who told me, "If you have already arrived here, come and beg for mercy in the place where Rabbi David u-Moshe has passed." I went in the direction that the woman pointed, and I saw a multitude of people flocking to the entrance of a cave. A guard stood near the cave and barred the people from entering it. I heard him warning the people, "Anyone who goes inside [the cave] risks his life." I passed through the people and I reached the entrance of the cave. The guard warned me but I came in, beginning to go down a stairway. Inside the cave there was a dim light but later it vanished. I kept going in the dark and after a while I began to feel spots of light. I reached the source of light and I saw a guard. When he saw me he said, "Why did you come?" I explained that I am the saint's messenger and I want to see him. He replied, "Go forward, and there you will meet two guards near an iron door." I reached the two guards and they warned me that if I touch the iron door I will be burnt. Nevertheless, I kept to my courage and the guards kept off. I reached the door, opened it and came in. Inside I saw old men sitting and learning Torah; among them I recognized the holy rav,Rabbi David u-Moshe, whom I now know from other dreams. At once he turned to me and said, "Why did you come to me?" I said to him, "You come to me once in two weeks or once a month, and this is not enough for me; therefore I decided to come to you and take you home with me." I held his hand and said to him, "I would like to carry his honor on my back all the way to my house." And so, with the saint on my back, I reached the entrance of the cave. The guard turned to the people outside, pointing at me. "You see, he takes the ravto his house, you have nothing to do here anymore; anyone who wants the ravhas to go to the new place...."
The dream, particularly in its unabridged form, conveys all the grandeur and fervor typical of a life transforming initiatory revelation. It depicts the sense of A.'s calling as the saint's dutiful adherent, tenaciously persistent, despite escalating predicaments, in his mission to establish contact with his patron. While it is clear that the dream should not be reduced to concerns of limited access and sibling rivalry, it is no less apparent that this combined theme plays a major role here. Note the recurrent emphasis on inaccessibility: three concentric barriers-the wall without gates, the blocked en-
322
ETHOS
trance to the cave, and the burning iron door-bar attendants from reaching the saint. Penetration is presented again as life risking, and the competitive confrontation with "siblings," that is, other followers of the saint vying for his grace, is almost manifest. Since the same theme abounding with similar images appears in the dreams of other sacred site builders, it may be not too far-reaching to suggest that these individuals are particularly sensitive to the concerns discussed in this paper. The ways in which this differential sensitivity is associated with early experiences and fantasies of sibling rivalry is a question that should be examined on the basis of data more comprehensive than visitational dreams. A.'s biography, for example, contains a suggestive clue as to one possible source of this sensitivity. In sharp contrast with his father's humble descent, A.'s mother came from a very impressive family background, as some of her forefathers were charismatic rabbis who were cherished as tsaddiqim by their fellow Jews. Since blessedness and virtue in his family were exclusively enveloped in the less cardinal line of ancestry, his share in it was less evident than, say, his matrilateral cross-cousins. Against this background it seems significant that A. claims to have had a special affinity with his maternal grandfather, the last of the hinting that he was his favorite. In describing his family tsaadiqim, attachment to the old patriarch and in bitterly recounting his abortive attempts to get hold of some of his possessions after his death (foiled by his mother's brothers), A. gave vent to the tension between differentfactions of his family concerning the true inheritor of the forefathers'grace. In this light, his project in Safed may be conceived, among other things, as a spectacular attempt to assert himself as a meritorious descendant of his charismatic forebearers.As I showed elsewhere (Bilu 1986), A. uses Rabbi David u-Moshe, the saint he brought home from afar, for articulating his experiences with and feelings toward the family tsaddiqim. Thus, the founding of a new pilgrimage site may constitute a very expedient way to cope with sibling rivalry concerns, to relieve the apprehension of being deprived of the saint's limited grace, desired by so many others. Reviewed from this perspective, the conclusion of the preceding dream is clear: A., unwilling to content himself with an episodic, or even biweekly, grace-bestowing contact with the saint, usurps him, claiming a monopoly of the possessor of divine
323
grace. Since his project, like those of other initiators, is culturally endorsed, adds to his socioeconomic status, and enhances his selfimage as a loyal adherent protected by the saint, it may be concluded that the wish to be the "favored child" is fulfilled in actuality no less than in fantasy. CONCLUSIONS Coming back to Turner's conceptions of the pilgrimage, it may seem ironical that people like A., who are particularly sensitive to anti-communitas sentiments, combat these vulnerabilities by renewing pilgrimage traditions that are designed, as far as social ethos is concerned, to enhance the spirit of communitas. As I have tried to show, however, these negative sentiments exist as well among ordinary attendants during the usual "flow" of the pilgrimage, even at its high moments. As a diversified, multilayered phenomenon, the pilgrimage may encompass a wide range of inner experiences. Those experiences that are related to sentiments of fraternity and equality, the constituents ofcommunitas, are part of the manifest side, reflecting the dominant, culturally endorsed atmosphere of the pilgrimage. Experiences that intensify sentiments of rivalry, envy, and selfaggrandizement are part of the latent aspect of the pilgrimage; more covert and subtle, however, they are not less integral a part of its texture. By way of conclusion, it should be mentioned again that the Jewish Moroccan pilgrimages present a number of factors conducive to sibling rivalry concerns. Beyond the spatial and temporal boundedness-an immanent feature of pilgrimages at large-the pilgrims in the Israeli context are usually coming to their saints as supplicants, propelled by grievance more than by formal religious obligation or gratitude. In addition, their hagiolatric traditions contain an explicitly defined notion of limited good regarding the saints' blessing. These notions I consider critical for processing social perceptions of pilgrimage events into inner experiences of rivalry, doubts, and acrimony. In addition, it should be recognized that pilgrimages in a country as small as Israel, although taking place on the periphery, do not entail lengthy and demanding journeys and are devoid of initiatory ritual processions. The first factor is likely to reinforceintragroup affinity, while the second might extend it to the intergroup level as well.
324
ETHOS
Under these circumstances, then, sentiments of divisiveness and competition may secretly corrode the spirit of communitas, exalted and idealized by Turner, the great humanist. When Turner wrote that "siblingship is extended to all who share a system of belief," he certainly did not purport to highlight sibling rivalry in the psychodynamic sense; rather he emphasized the social matrix in which the "other" becomes a "brother." Without denying the possibility or even common occurrence of this transformation, the thesis underlying this work suggests that the pilgrimage may also be the setting where the "brother" sometimes becomes "other." NOTES
'The se'uda,and particularly the auction of the saint's glasses, have probably accentuated wealth differencesamong the pilgrims, even though part of the money collected in the auction was reallocated as charity. It is significant to note that only in one Israeli hillula did I encounter an outright prohibition to sell glasses. The rationale was, as might be expected, that this ritual instigates envy and frustration among the poor. Similarly, reports from Morocco concerning attempts to allot equal shares of the se'udameat, irrespective of the quantity brought to the saint, have come from one Jewish pilgrimage center only (Bilu 1986). 2Saints, the bearers of baraka,may also be appropriated and monopolized (see Marcus 1985). 3This identification is based on an ancient legendary tradition, first mentioned in the Babylonian Talmud (Erubin 19a).
REFERENCES
1964. The IndiANSBACHER, HEINZ L., and ROWENA R. ANSBACHER. vidual PsychologyofAlfred Adler. New York: Harper and Row. 1982. The Sibling Bond. New BANK, STEPHEN P., and MICHAEL D. KAHN. York: Basic Books.
BEN-AMI, ISSACHAR.
theJews in Morocco 1984. The Veneration of Saintsamong
(Hebrew). Jerusalem: The Magness Press. 1986. Dreams and the Wishes of the Saint. Judaism Viewedfrom BILU, YORAM. Withinandfrom Without(H. Goldberg, ed.), pp. 285-313. New York: Albany State University Press. 1985. In Search of the SadBILU, YORAM, and HENRY ABRAMOVITCH. diq: Visitational Dreams among Moroccan Jews in Israel. Psychiatry48:83-92. 1982. Journey through the LabiBROWN, KENNETH, and JEAN MOHR.
rinth. Studies in VisualCommunication 8(2):2-81.

1981. PsychiatricDictionary. New York: Oxford UniCAMPBELL, ROBERTJ. versity Press. 1973. The Hamadsha: A Study in Moroccan EthnoCRAPANZANO, VINCENT. psychiatry. Berkeley: University of California Press. and CAROL KENDRICK. 1982. Siblings: Love, Envy, and UnDUNN,JUDY, derstanding.London: Grant and McIntyre.
325
Islam. Austin: University of Texas EICKELMAN, DALE F. 1976. Moroccan Press. FOSTER, GEORGE M. 1965. Peasant Society and the Notion of Limited Good. American 67(2):293-315. Anthropologist FREUD, SIGMUND. 1955a. Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego. TheComplete Works Freud,Vol. 18. London: Hogarth Press. Psychological of Sigmund 1955b. Some Neurotic Mechanisms in Jealousy, Paranoia and HoWorks Freud,Vol. 18. London: mosexuality. The Complete Psychological of Sigmund Hogarth Press. 1961. Female Sexuality. The Complete Works Psychological of Sigmund Freud,Vol. 19. London: Hogarth Press. New Haven: Yale University GEERTZ, CLIFFORD. 1968. Islam Observed. Press. LIDZ, THEODORE. 1976. The Person (Revised Edition). New York: Basic Books. MARCUS, MICHAEL A. 1985. "The Saint Has Been Stolen": Sanctity and Social Change in a Tribe of Eastern Morocco. American Ethnologist 12(3) :454-467. MERNISSI, FATIMA. 1985. Women, Saints, and Sanctuaries. The Signs Reader:Women, andScholarship Gender, (E. Abel and E. K. Abel, eds.), pp. 57-68. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. in theHinduTradition. Delhi: Oxford UniMORINIS, ALAN E. 1984. Pilgrimage versity Press. PIERS, GERHART, and MILTON SINGER. 1953. Shameand Guilt: A Psyand Cultural-Study. choanalytical Springfield: Thomas. andMerit-Seeking at Sacred Places:Buddhist PRUESS, JAMES B. 1974. Veneration in Contemporary Thailand.Ph.D. thesis, University of Washington, SePilgrimage attle. SALLNOW, M.J. 1981. Communitas Reconsidered: The Sociology of Andean Pilgrimage. Man 16:163-182. SCHOECK, HELMUT. 1970. Envy: A Theoryof Social Behavior.New York: Harcourt, Brace and World. and STILLMAN, N. A. 1982. Saddiqand Marabout in Morocco. TheSephardi Oriental JewishHeritage:Studies(I. Ben-Ami, ed.), pp. 489-500. Jerusalem: The Magness Press. Structure andAnti-Structure. LonTURNER, VICTOR. 1969. TheRitual Process: don: Routledge and Kegan Paul. 1973. The Center Out There: Pilgrim's Goal. Historyof Religions 12(3):191-230. 1974a. Dramas, Fields, and Metaphors.Ithaca: Cornell University Press. 1974b. Pilgrimage and Communitas. StudiaMissionalia 23:305-327. 1976. Death and the Dead in the Pilgrimage Process. ReligiousEncounters with Death (F. E. Reynolds and E. Waugh, eds.), pp. 24-39. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press. TURNER, VICTOR, and EDITH TURNER. 1978. Imageand Pilgrimagein Christian Culture. New York: Columbia University Press. WESTERMARCK, EDWARD. 1926. Ritual and Belief in Morocco.London: Macmillan.

Bilu - 1988 - (The Inner Limits of Communitas - A Covert Dimension of Pilgrimage Experience)

Caricato da

Informazioni sul documento

Descrizione originale:

Titolo originale

Copyright

Formati disponibili

Condividi questo documento

Condividi o incorpora il documento

Opzioni di condivisione

Hai trovato utile questo documento?

Questo contenuto è inappropriato?

Copyright:

Formati disponibili

Bilu - 1988 - (The Inner Limits of Communitas - A Covert Dimension of Pilgrimage Experience)

Caricato da

Copyright:

Formati disponibili

The Inner Limits of Communitas: A Covert Dimension of Pilgrimage Experience Author(s): Yoram Bilu Source: Ethos, Vol.

INNER LIMITS OF COMMUNITAS

INNER LIMITS OF COMMUNITAS

theJews in Morocco 1984. The Veneration of Saintsamong

rinth. Studies in VisualCommunication 8(2):2-81.

Potrebbero piacerti anche