Zombiefication: A Comparative Anthropology Perspective

By V. Pelevin

“Zombiefication has always seemed to me the most terrifying of fates.” – Wade Davis

James Bond and the Dark Religion

Naked, Bond stepped into the hallway and tore open several packages. A little later, already dressed in a white shirt and dark blue trousers, he entered the living room, pulled a chair up to the desk by the window, and opened Patrick Leigh Fermor’s A Time of Gifts. M himself had recommended this remarkable book. “The guy who wrote it knows what he’s talking about,” he said. “And don’t forget, what he writes about happened in Haiti in 1950. This isn’t some medieval black magic nonsense. It’s practiced every day.”

Bond reached the middle of the section dedicated to Haiti:

“The next step,” he read, “is to appeal to the sinister spirits of the voodoo pantheon-such as Don Pedro, Kitta, Mondong, Bacalou, and Zandor-to cause harm, for the famous practice from the Congo of turning people into zombies and using them as slaves, for deadly curses and the destruction of enemies. The effect of the spell, which may take the form of an image of the intended victim, a miniature coffin, or a toad, is often enhanced by the simultaneous use of poison. Father Cosme adds to this list beliefs that people with certain powers can turn into snakes, that some ‘Lou-Garou’ can fly at night as vampire bats and suck children’s blood, and that others can shrink themselves to tiny sizes and ride around the countryside in gourd pumpkins. The list of criminal-mystical secret societies with nightmarish names is impressive-‘Makandal’ (named after the Haitian poisoner-hero), ‘Zobop’ (whose members practice robbery), ‘Mazanza,’ ‘Kaporelata,’ and ‘Winbinding.’ These, he says, are mysterious sects whose gods demand, instead of a rooster, dove, dog, or pig (as in normal voodoo rituals), the sacrifice of a ‘hornless goat.’ Of course, the ‘hornless goat’ means a human.”

Bond flipped through the pages, and random passages formed in his imagination a strange picture of a dark religion with terrifying rituals.

In Ian Fleming’s novel Live and Let Die, the hero is yet to face off against Mr. Big-a huge, gray-haired zombie working for SMERSH and the Ministry of Internal Affairs, who meets his contacts in a voodoo temple in the center of Harlem, where he goes to relax and speak Russian.

It’s worth noting the strange connection between Haitian secret cults and Stalinist counterintelligence that emerged in the mind-or subconscious-of the famous English writer. While James Bond opens a fresh pack of Chesterfields and adjusts his .25 Beretta in its suede shoulder holster, let’s travel to Haiti to find out if the words about a “dark religion” are true.

Voodoo

In 1982, ethnobotanist Wade Davis traveled to Haiti to study reports of zombiefication-magical killing followed by resurrection and use of the victim as labor. Davis succeeded where no previous researcher had: he uncovered the secret of zombiefication and provided a convincing scientific explanation.

Another result of his research was the remarkable book The Serpent and the Rainbow, in which he described his adventures. To get the answers he sought, Davis had to study local cults and nearly join a secret society, aided by a wise sorcerer-priest he managed to befriend. (People magazine notes the similarity of Davis’s work to the early books of Carlos Castaneda: the resemblance is there, but it’s somewhat parodic; the book is good in its own way.)

The phenomenon of zombiefication, usually associated with voodoo, does not occupy a central place in it and exists more on its periphery, serving as one of its practical proofs-a “criterion of truth” that many other teachings lack.

Voodoo can indeed be called a religion, remembering that the term “religion” comes from the Latin for “connection.” This belief system is not limited to a single cult but is rather a complex mystical worldview that “connects” humans, nature, and supernatural forces-those beyond familiar reality. In archaic societies, whose cultural echoes are found in voodoo, the sacred and magical are closely intertwined with everyday life, so any attempt to fully describe such religious systems ends up describing the entire way of life. Here, we’ll limit ourselves to a general overview and the details necessary for our topic.

Haiti’s spiritual culture, centered on voodoo, arose as an amalgam of beliefs from many African regions (which long supplied slaves to the island’s French planters) and European influences, including Catholicism. The unique history of the country, which for a hundred years was the only independent “black” republic besides Liberia, contributed to this unusual blend. The island’s elite officially practiced Catholicism, but its influence was barely felt outside the cities. Urban life was close in spirit to Europe-wealthy black women in Port-au-Prince flaunted Parisian fashions, spoke French with their educated, refined husbands, and sent their children to study abroad (in short, a tropical St. Petersburg populated by black people). Meanwhile, rural communities, where folk culture was born, remained fragments of Africa transplanted to another continent. The ancestral homeland gradually became a myth, and the descendants of various tribes began to see themselves as “ti guinin”-“Children of Guinea,” another version of the promised land where the soul would go after death.

Against this cultural backdrop, a new religion emerged. Of course, not truly new-there are no new religions-but a fascinating and unusual mix of old elements. Many ethnologists trace voodoo traditions to other, often very distant, cultures. For example, the Ghede ceremony is similar to the ritual of Osiris’s rebirth found in the ancient Egyptian Book of the Dead. But what’s most interesting is what makes voodoo unique.

First and foremost is the deep democracy of this religion, its popular character. In Catholicism, the priest is a “mediator” between believers and the Almighty, but in voodoo, the deities are accessible to anyone, and spiritual reality is not just accessible-it literally descends upon a person when a spirit possesses their body. What other religions call “possession” is the practical goal in voodoo, achieved through various rituals. As Haitians themselves say: “A Catholic goes to church to talk about God; a voodooist dances in the temple yard to become God.”

The priest’s role-the houngan-is not only to explain spiritual reality, tell fortunes, and conduct ceremonies, but also to preserve ethical and social norms and pass on knowledge. The diversity of his functions makes him the de facto leader of the community.

The existence of zombies does not seem strange or particularly interesting to the island’s inhabitants; it’s something unclear but familiar from childhood, like the concept of a “shock worker” in the Soviet Union-everyone knows they existed somewhere, some have even seen them, but few think to bring up the topic out of the blue.

Homo Vodoun: The Voodoo Concept of the Human

The concept of the person in voodoo underlies all magical procedures, and the rituals performed by the bokor (sorcerer), strictly following the idea of real human nature, may seem like exotic improvisation only to outsiders. For voodoo practitioners, they are as precise as a surgeon’s actions.

From the voodoo perspective, a person consists of several bodies layered on top of each other, of which only one-the physical body, called corps cadavre-is accessible to ordinary perception. The next is n’ame, something like an energetic duplicate that allows the body to function, the “spirit of the flesh.” It is not individual and, after death, slowly seeps from the body into the organisms living in the soil-a process that takes 18 months. What is called the soul in voodoo consists of two components: ti bon ange and gros bon ange-the “little good angel” and the “big good angel.” The “big good angel,” like the “spirit of the flesh,” is purely energetic but more subtle, and after death, it immediately returns to the infinite energy reservoir that sustains all life. The “little good angel” is the individualized part of the soul, the source of all personality. It can easily separate from the body and return-this happens during dreams, strong fright, or during “possession,” when it is temporarily replaced by a loa (external spirit). The “little good angel” is the target of magical operations and the object of magical protection (in some cases, the houngan can place it in a special clay jar, a canari, from which it continues to animate the body).

Usually, after sixteen successful incarnations, the “little good angel” merges into Ja-the cosmic breath that encompasses the universe.

The last spiritual component, z’etoile, is in the sky and is not connected to the body but to destiny; it is a personal “star,” allegorically represented as a gourd containing hopes and “orders” for future life, automatically formed by the individual’s actions and thoughts-in short, what in India is aptly called karma.

Poisons and Procedures

Researchers of voodoo have long suspected the existence of a special poison, “zombie powder,” but its composition was unknown. As early as 1938, American ethnographer Zora Hurston, who studied this problem and saw a female zombie, tried to give a scientific explanation for zombiefication.

“We concluded (referring to her conversation with a hospital doctor where the zombie woman was kept) that it wasn’t resurrection from the dead, but the appearance of death caused by a special narcotic known to a limited circle. Apparently, some secret was brought from Africa and passed down through generations. People know how the narcotic and antidote work. Clearly, it destroys the part of the brain responsible for speech and willpower. The victim can move and do things but cannot form thoughts. Two doctors tried to uncover this secret but failed.”

Meanwhile, Haitians themselves have never denied the existence of a special “zombie poison”-in fact, it’s even mentioned in the local criminal code, and for a certain sum, you can order a dose from one of the many sorcerers. However, the mixture made for sale is unlikely to work. Moreover, from the sorcerers’ perspective, powders are not the main weapon in their magical arsenal.

The main types of harmful influence they use are easily classified:

• Coup l’aire (“air blow”): a method of casting various spells that can cause misfortune and illness. A spiritually strong person can resist and overcome them; by mistake, the spell may fall on someone else.
• Coupe n’ame (“blow to the soul”): a magical method for stealing the “little good angel.”
• Coupe poudre (“blow with powder”): the use of powder that can cause illness or death. This third method is used in zombiefication-specifically, to create the so-called zombi cadavre, the zombie of the physical body.

The composition of the powder varies from sorcerer to sorcerer and may include ingredients with names like “cut-water,” “break-wings,” etc. A mandatory component is human remains-usually finely ground skull bones. Various types of lizards, toads, fish, and plants are also used.

Wade Davis managed to obtain samples of real “zombie powder” and a full set of its ingredients, which included the well-known hallucinogenic toad bufo marinus and the fish sphoeroides testudineus and diodon hystrix. The samples were analyzed in an American laboratory. Interestingly, in his account of the research results, James Bond appears again-this time from the novel From Russia with Love.

So, Wade Davis comes to the lab where the samples from Haiti were sent and asks the analyst:

“So, what’s in them?”
“Oh God, I thought you were a drug specialist. You don’t seem very familiar with the literature.”
“I must have looked embarrassed.”
“James Bond. The last scene in From Russia with Love, one of the greatest moments in ichthyotoxicology. British agent 007, completely helpless, paralyzed and unconscious from a tiny wound made by a hidden knife.”
He stood up and looked at his bookshelf-somehow managing to keep an academic air even as he pulled a paperback from a pile of unknown scientific journals.
“I remember it was here somewhere. Ah, here it is.”
He quoted: “A shoe flashed with a tiny metal tongue. Bond felt a sharp pain in his right calf. Numbness crept over his body. Breathing became difficult. Bond slowly turned on his heels and collapsed onto the wine-red floor.”
The book went back on the shelf.
“Agent 007 didn’t stand a chance,” he said bitterly. “And Fleming was damn smart. You have to read the next book to understand what happened. The blade was poisoned with tetrodotoxin. It’s mentioned in the first chapter of Dr. No.”
“And what is that?”
“A nerve toxin,” he replied. “And there’s nothing stronger.”

Fugu

Thanks to Wade Davis’s efforts, the secret of “zombie powder” was finally revealed-the active ingredient is tetrodotoxin, a powerful poison that blocks nerve impulses by “locking” cells to sodium ions. This substance is found in many animals, including the fugu fish-a close relative of the fish used to make the powder. In Japan, fugu is considered a delicacy-when specially prepared, it’s quite edible. Nevertheless, there are hundreds of fatal poisonings every year, yet fugu continues to be served. Not because it’s extremely tasty or provides a vivid memory of a risky adventure, as some writers claim after trying fugu in Japanese restaurants.

The point is that in small concentrations, tetrodotoxin acts as a narcotic, causing euphoria and pleasant physical sensations. The chef’s task (it’s extremely difficult to get a license to prepare fugu) is not to remove all the tetrodotoxin, but to reduce its concentration to the required level.

When the chef makes a mistake, the following happens: first, there’s a tingling sensation in the hands and feet, then numbness of the whole body and paralysis, and the eyes take on a glassy shine. Death occurs (as happened in 1975 to Mitsugoro Bando VIII, a Kabuki actor declared a living national treasure by the Japanese government), or an appearance of death that can fool even the most experienced doctors. Despite the near-total cessation of all vital functions, the poisoned person remains aware of what’s happening.

Here’s a description of a fugu poisoning case by a Japanese specialist:

“A resident of Yamaguchi was poisoned by fugu in Osaka. It was decided he had died, and his body was sent to the crematorium in Sennichi. When the body was being dragged off the cart, the man came to, stood up, and went home. He remembered everything that happened to him.”

It’s hard to say whether the victim continued his culinary experiments with fugu. The Japanese have a saying: “Those who eat fugu are fools. But those who don’t eat fugu are also fools.”

The Psychological Background

Wade Davis’s discovery explains the physical side of zombiefication-the powder rubbed into the body induces a trance almost indistinguishable from death; on the night after the funeral, the grave is dug up, and the zombified person is revived with a special procedure. But the issue is not only, or even mainly, the poison, but the psychological mechanism, so widespread that anthropologists have a special term for it: “voodoo death.”

A chemical poison will affect anyone the same way, regardless of culture. But each culture forms its own “psychological background,” a set of expectations and reactions common to its members, which determines not only social behavior but also mental and physical states. This “psychological background” exists not somewhere outside people, but solely in their minds.

For example, a Western anthropologist doing fieldwork in the Australian desert and the aborigines crowding around him, despite their physical proximity, live in completely different worlds. Here’s a simple example: Australian aboriginal sorcerers carry bones of giant lizards as magic wands. If a sorcerer pronounces a death sentence and points the wand at a tribesman, the latter falls ill and dies. Here’s an anthropological description of such a “death command” in action:

“The stunned aborigine looks at the fatal wand, raising his hands as if to stop the deadly substance he imagines entering his body. His cheeks pale, his eyes take on a glassy look, his face is horribly distorted. He tries to scream, but the usual cry sticks in his throat, and foam appears at his mouth. His body begins to convulse, he staggers and falls to the ground, writhing as if in mortal agony. After a while, he becomes very calm and crawls to his shelter. From that moment, he falls ill and wastes away, refusing food and not participating in tribal life.”

But if the sorcerer tries the same with a European-say, the anthropologist-it’s unlikely to work. The European simply won’t understand the significance of what’s happening-he’ll see a short, naked man waving an animal bone and muttering something. If it were otherwise, Australian sorcerers would have ruled the world long ago.

All known cases of zombiefication are of the same nature. If a European (or anyone from another culture) is exposed to “zombie powder,” only the tetrodotoxin will affect him-he’ll either die or fall into a deep coma. But for a Haitian villager, it’s the “zombie powder” itself that works: seeing himself lying in a coffin and not breathing, he’ll understand that an enemy has sold him to a sorcerer who separated his “little good angel” from his body with a magical trap.

Magic exists and is extremely effective-but only in its own dimension. For it to work on a person, a “psychological background” is necessary to make it possible. There must be a set of expectations that allows psychic energy to be redirected in a certain way-redirected, because magical effects are based not on powerful external influences, but on managing the victim’s internal processes, on triggering psychological mechanisms shaped by culture and existing only within its framework.

This “psychological background” gradually changes-as if someone is retuning our “receivers” from one station to another. We no longer see water spirits and wood goblins, but we’ve learned to see flying saucers; once, miracles were performed by sorcerers-now, it’s suspicious “psychics.” But the point is not so much in them as in our unconscious readiness or conscious unwillingness to participate in their rituals, which are based on the “psychological background” they themselves create.

Having almost eradicated religion (which once just as relentlessly displaced magic), we are now delighted to discover that “healers” can take care of our souls and bodies. And the more we believe in this, the more we are ready for it, the more of them there will be. But an Australian aborigine at such a “healer’s” session would hardly grasp the significance of the situation-he’d probably just see a short, clothed man muttering something and making strange hand movements.