deities from the emerging nations of candomblé, and other magical beliefs and practices. Capoeira was an
integral part of this uneasy coexistence and probably also a space where conflicting views could be
expressed and integrated in its practice. If Central African beliefs constituted the original framework for
what it meant to play capoeira in a roda, other religious systems had heavily impacted on the practice, the
spirituality, and the cultural meaning of vadiação.
The impact of popular Catholicism seems relatively easy to identify through the frequent appeal for
protection from saints, the crossing of oneself before play, or the insertion of rodas in the Catholic cycle of
celebrations. Yet as we have seen in Chapter 2, it remains controversial to what extent the invocation of
these saints, or even the use of the cross, already constituted a syncretic practice.
Many capoeira practitioners had strong links with candomblé groups, often through the female members
of their family. To give just the example of some famous mestres, Noronha’s second wife, and
Canjiquinha’s mother were members of terreiros.^71 M.Bimba’s wife was a ‘mother of saints’, and in his
earlier life he held an office within an Angola terreiro (see Chapter 5). M.Caiçara was a candomblé priest
and, in the later part of his tumultuous life, carved out a living by offering his healing and fortune telling
services to the community. No doubt many other capoeira practitioners in early twentieth-century Bahia
believed in and actively practised candomblé. They, at least, would identify the saints invoked in the
capoeira songs with their orixás, voduns or inquices. In the predominant Nagô tradition, for instance, the
corrido ‘Saint Anthony is the protector’ would also refer to the orixá Ogun, and ‘Lady Mary how are you?’
with the ‘Mother of the Water’, Yemanjá. Yet the repression of Afro-Brazilian religions meant that
unequivocal references to candomblé in capoeira songs were unlikely at the time. One possible exception is
the corrido ‘Capoeira has dendê’, since the West African palm oil is closely associated to the divine energy
(axé) and the powers of the messenger Exú.^72
Formal similarities between candomblé and capoeira are easy to establish. For instance, both are based on
‘foundations’; and particular moments of the performance are associated with specific toques. The function
of each of the three berimbaus in the capoeira orchestra closely mirrors the use of the three atabaque drums
in candomblé (rum, rumpi and lé), thought to be of predominantly Jeje origin.^73 The music bow itself has
also served religious purposes in some African derived slave cultures of the Americas, although no religious
use is known in Africa. Afro-Cubans, for instance, played the burumbumba, a variant of the berimbau, to
‘talk to the dead’.^74 Even within Brazil, the berimbau has fulfilled religious purposes, albeit rather
marginally. For example, one or two berimbaus were played alongside drums and other instruments for the
worship of the spirits (encantados) in the cotton belt of Maranhão.^75
Furthermore, the alteration of the state of mind produced by playing capoeira has been linked to candomblé
trance. Capoeira songs such as the corrido ‘Help me God, Lord Saint Bento, I will sing my barravento’
possibly refers to a kind of possession in association with that saint. Barravento (under the wind) is a
nautical term also used for a ‘mild, preliminary trance experienced by initiates [in candomblé] before they
receive the actual spirit of the deity’.^76
In the 1930s and 1940s, some authors, based on these and other formal similarities, even described
capoeira as a kind of derived form of Afro-Brazilian religion. Carlos Ott explicitly compared the kneeling
of capoeiristas in front of musicians before the game with the ritual introduction of the daughters of the
saints (filhas de santa) before the dance and trance in candomblé.^77 Claúdio Tavares was struck by the
similarity between the initial greetings or salutation (saudação) in candomblé and capoeira.^78 Edison
Carneiro also claimed that capoeira incorporated ‘fetishist elements’ and explained that in the 1930s, when
two players were crouched at the ‘foot’ of the berimbau, singing the preceito or chula, ‘people say that the
fighters are praying or waiting for the saint’ (expecting spiritual possession by an orixá). He furthermore
signalled that songs like ‘The snake has bitten São Bento’ constituted a ‘distortion of a chant for the
THE CAPOEIRA SCENE IN BAHIA 113