Comparison of Tlingit and Navajo Spirituality and Religion

          The Tlingit people believed their origin came from a woman who ate a heated beach stone, became pregnant, and her son was born a raven. In their culture, the raven was the creator of the moon, stars, sun and sky. He was a releaser of force, culture hero and trickster. Interestingly, as in some native cultures, if an animal is viewed as their creator there is taboo surrounding its consumption. This was not the case for the Tlingit. They ate ravens and there was no such taboo in eating their moiety or totemic species.

           The Navajo people called themselves Dine meaning Earth Surface People. They believed a Holy People called Yei existed in the celestial sphere and were responsible for land formations, weather, plant life and some animals such as bears, coyotes and snakes. The belief of Navajo origin was that the Yei, who used to live twelve worlds under the Earth surface, were forced out by a flood. On the surface is where death originated and the Yei created the Dine, teaching them how to live. In the myth of their creation, the Yei parented the Changing Woman who conceived with the sun to have two sons. Her sons killed Earth monsters and left formations on the surface at the location of the slayings. As supernatural beings, the Holy People could inflict good or bad to the Navajo people and were thus considered dangerous and powerful.

            For the Tlingit, each clan recognized the place of its settlement as their origin. They believed the world was flat with a sky dome and everything in it was alive with a spirit. For the Navajo, Yei were not directly worshiped but proper ritual obligations of the people were considered to help the Holy People restore harmony and balance in the universe. They believed the natural and supernatural worlds blended together and that the universe was an all-inclusive system of interrelated elements including objects, animals, man and thunder.  The Navajo believed that in order to understand the Holy People they had to find a balance in life between good and evil. Elements such as whirlwinds, lightening and ghosts we considered evil.

            Spirits of the dead and belief surrounding them were deep-rooted in both the Tlingit and Navajo cultures. The Navajo did not make death a focal point in life but the dead were feared. Even people who were deemed good in life had a ghost that embodied their evilness obtained from life on Earth. Failure to behave properly resulted in bringing an evil human spirit into their body and created illness and imbalance to harmony. The dead were quickly buried without ceremony with any artifacts they valued in life. Navajo people had little to do with the dying or the dead and often built special platforms for them to avoid spiritual contamination. Their hogans were abandoned where death occurred, unlike the Tlingit who buried their dead outside the family home. Ghosts were associated with darkness which is a main reason Navajos feared the dark.

           Different from the Navajo, in Tlingit culture death was a major ceremony in the life cycle. A ghost was believed to dwell in the bones of the deceased and with cremation was warm in the afterlife. Fire was associated with communication of deceased ancestors, and in houses the fireplace was a medium. Communication was made by burning food, tobacco and gifts as offerings. Upon death, males from the opposite moiety cremated the body and burned possessions. Females, also of the opposite moiety, collected ashes and bones and put them into a box in a temporary grave house. Close relatives were the primary mourners and painted their faces black, fasted and sang songs. They believed the ghost of the dead remained in the house four to eight days and it wasn’t until memorial poles were erected (for the wealthy) or burial (for commoners) that it ended the mourning period. Mourners then started the series of feasts, tobacco offerings and potlatches.

            Human spirits were not feared by the Tlingit as they were for the Navajo. They had playful ideas of what the human spirit did, such as believing the northern lights were human spirits at play and that the rainbow was a path to the upper world for the dead. They believed everything on Earth was possessed by a spirit quality and everything had a main spirit and helpers. For this reason shamans were important and their effectiveness came from the spirits they controlled. Shamans wore masks and controlled the spirits represented by their mask. Second spirits were sometimes placed around the eyes of the mask for increased vision of the primary spirit. Most spirits served specific clans but some, like souls lost at sea or alone in the forest, could be controlled by any shaman.

           In Tlingit society, a shaman always accompanied a war party to predict future events. They also helped in peace-making efforts done by a pattern of ceremonies in exchange of hostages. They also helped the clan find food sources. Shamans used rattles that had spirit associations which were used at ceremony. Sacred bundles of cedar bark, grass and devil’s club held split tongues of river otters and eagle claws, both considered sources of power during shamanic ceremony. Crest animals of the clan were considered spirit helpers to shamans. To intensify their spirit relationship, shamans would retreat to the forest for extended periods of time. They generally lived in a separate residence with their family and their shrine was in the forest by their house. Charms were sometimes made by ordinary people and used for seeing the future, attracting women, and improving wealth or hunting, but curing and supernatural powers were only for shamans.

           New Tlingit shamans were selected when one died. It was believed their spirit would inhabit an upstanding youth, so nephews who aspired to be a shaman went into a trance around the dead shaman’s body hoping to draw in his spirit. The nephew in the trance the longest was most likely the successor. After the nephew went into trance, close relatives went to the forest searching for a sign of the uncle’s power. Signs, like seeing an animal drop dead, often led to the inheritance of his ceremonial equipment. For the Navajo, the Yei were controlled in rituals that were cornerstone to Navajo religion called Blessingway. Breaking taboos, like excessive gambling or sex, could create an imbalance of harmony. All effort was made to avert contamination because contamination could cause illness to herds, farms or people. The practitioner for such ceremonies was called a singer.

           The Navajo had neither a religious society nor ceremonial calendar. Instead, singers had emphasis on singing to particular patients as needed. Horzo - meaning harmony, goodness, beauty and success - was repaired by a system of prayers and ceremonies by singers. The results benefited the patient, their family or the entire people. The blessingway was to promote horzo and achieve well-being. They were held, for two nights and one day in dedication of a new hogan, marriage, help a woman in childbirth or to protect livestock. Like Tlingit shamans, singers also had a sacred bundle that included rattles, whistles, fossils and animal claws. Each had a specific purpose. The person in which the blessingway was dedicated held medicine bundles while attendees sang and prayed. The bundle included containers of soil from the four sacred mountains, packages of pollen and prayer sticks. Corn pollen was sacred and used to bless people, animals and hogans, and played a crucial role in religious rituals. 

           Another ceremony for the Tlingit was called an Enemyway. Designed for warriors, they often had a medicine man perform the ceremony by singing or chanting in preparation for war, or more commonly, to purify returning warriors from ghost sickness as a result of exposure to the spirits of slain enemies. The Enemyway evolved into a ceremony to cure illness thought to be caused by the ghosts of non-Navajo, and was grouped with Evilway ceremonies. The Evilway was held for three to five nights and had more than one singer in charge. A third ceremony was called a chantway. While singers specialized in one or more chants because of the immense knowledge and skill needed, tyros were singers who learned hundreds of songs, long prayers, the use of plant medicines and the preparation needed for sand paintings. The Chantway was held for two, four, five or nine nights. They had many purposes and procedures, always held in a circular hogan with the entrance to the east (the direction that good arrives from). A smoke hole at the center of the roof was for evil to exit. Chantways often had sand paintings known to have over 500 symbolic designs. Most included at least two Holy People either on a rainbow to symbolize their movement or on a black bar to symbolize Earth. They ended with a prayer or song to negate any ill consequence of errors during the ritual.

          For both the Tlingit and the Navajo witchcraft was unacceptable and feared. In Tlingit society, witchcraft was obtaining intimate items of the intended victim and using them in representation. People who became ill were considered victims of sorcery and the curing shaman named the perpetrator. Those accused were usually women, children or slaves and were tortured for a confession or killed if it was not satisfactory. In Tlingit society, the accused was bound by clan members with no food or water for eight days, and after confession, items used to bewitch were scattered at sea. Sometimes the accused returned to their ordinary status. For the Navajo, it was believed that regardless of a confession, the accused would die within one year, if they were allowed to live, from the same symptoms bestowed upon their victim. Similarly, the accused were tied up and questioned by their accuser and deprived of food and water for days. Without a confession in both cultures a witch would be killed.

           To the Navajo, envy of others was often a characteristic assigned to witches who, unlike the Tlingit, were usually men or childless women. They were considered to cause harm, illness and imbalance to harmony. Protection could be found in certain plant or animal sustenance or in ownership of ceremonial artifacts. Navajo people took care in disposing of personal items such as feces, fingernail clippings or hair that could be collected for witchcraft. The afterbirth and anything stained with blood was also buried and hidden by a tree to prevent a witch from using it. Witchcraft was generally learned from a parent or grandparent and was said to use a weapon of a powder-like poison made from flesh. It could be blown into someone’s face or poured down a hogan smoke hole. Witches were believed to travel at night under the cover of wolf skins, which is another reason most Navajo feared the dark.

          The Tlingit culture put great emphasis on potlatches. Households consisted of brothers, and the eldest was the Keeper of the House who represented the house in ceremonies. The wealthiest of local Keepers were called Rich Man. Clans within a moiety were ranked by wealth and thus had the most elaborate potlatches. Potlatch is the European name but the Tlingit word was kueex, meaning to invite ceremony for marriage, death or an heir. They lasted four days, however the host would feed and entertain guests for a month including song, dance and speeches. During the celebration, the Tlingit considered their ancestors to be present and often burned food and gifts in their honor. The potlatch pole was erected to raise the prestige of a family that had accumulated or distributed wealth. After erecting the pole it was not important to upkeep or repair it as it was a greater honor for the household to make a new one.

            Animism was an important concept in both the Tlingit and Navajo cultures. Tlingit children were even named after an animal associated with their clan. Totem poles were symbolic of the Tlingit people and infused much of the symbols and animals important to them. Like potlatches, totem poles were symbolic of wealth and the wealthiest competed for prestige. Clans of each moiety possessed different designs in which only they used on totem poles. For example, only Ravens could use the raven and only the Wolf the wolf. Clan and lineage crests were displayed on totem poles, as well as house pillars, canoes, dishes and ceremonial objects. A man from the opposite moiety and of the same rank would be asked to carve the crest on a totem. Carvings in this manner were a ritual obligation and the labor was ceremonial. Totem symbols were associated with the moiety, clan or house groups. For the Ravens, important crests included the raven, owl and whale. For the Wolf, it was the eagle, wolf and bear. Totems were honored in ritual context but totem poles themselves were not worshiped.

Why Guru Rajneesh was not a Sannyasi

I will explore the concept of Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, a former guru who resided in Antelope, Ore., calling himself a sannyasi versus him practicing the life of a sannyasi. Rajneesh was a trained philosopher from India who came into the public eye in his country during the 60s for speaking out against ideas presented by Gandhi. Ultimately he was run out of the country with much disapproval, rumors of tax evasion, and squabbles with officials.
Claiming he was enlightened by the age of 21, Rajneesh believed there was only one “enlightened being” alive at a time and that he was the one. In his words, “I am not a philosopher who is trying to make a system of thought, I am a mystic who is trying to convey the mysteries that have become available to me.” He came to Oregon in the early 80s and became known to Americans as the “sex guru” who had a 64,000 acre ashram known as Rancho Rajneesh. The Ranch was home to 2,000 neo-sannyasins.

To note, there is no system that defines who a guru is, nor is there anyone who “votes” them into the title. In Hinduism, a guru is defined by the status of enlightenment, one who is a spiritual teacher and leader to others on their path to enlightenment. Gurus are often considered the immanent form of god, realized in front of you, and treated as such. 

To be a sannyasi is an optional stage in life when one is to renounce their worldly possessions, become a type of wandering holy man, and detach from caste systems or society as we know it. On a spiritual pursuit, filled with spiritual contemplation, they are focused solely on the goal of moksha. Typically they live alone and do not partake in materialistic desires. This, however, was not how Rajneesh lived.

At the time of his unravelling in the late 80s, he had 93 Rolls-Royces, lived on a $5.5 million ranch, and according to his long-time, right-hand lady Sheela Birnstiel, he wanted items of great cost such as a $1 million watch. Birnstiel also claimed in an interview with Lez Zaitz of The Oregonian (twenty years after his reign) that he took valium. Intoxicants are discouraged for Hindus, furthermore a sannyasi. Also commonly practiced is no illicit sex, but Rajneesh made headlines with his encouragement of sexual freedom. Interviews I read from former devotees tell similar stories of his involvement with fellow female sannyasins and the requirement of others to arrive to his quarters naked so he could pleasure himself. 

This lack of restraint in a sexual manner is not typical of a guru. Bering his status, he was to help people not exploit them. A quote I found quite opposite of his role as a guru was Rajneesh saying, “I am not here to help you. You may be here to be helped, but I am not. I am just enjoying my thing. I am doing my thing.” His selfishness in this statement is evidence to me that he was not as interested in guiding others as he was in himself.

Upon his arrival, Americans were somewhat rebellious in spirit. Many were participating in the social revolution stemming from the end the Vietnam War in '75. The idea of living against the norm was trending, and in my opinion, added to his appeal at the Ranch. At the time, former Indian spiritual leaders such as Buddha (Siddhartha Gautama) and Mahavira were known stateside. I can see why, if lumped with Rajneesh and his status as enlightened, young Americans may have thought they were following an exemplar. However, I think he proved himself not worthy of being called a sannyasi alongside Buddha and Mahavira. 

The former took position as spiritual leaders not with the intent of gathering followers but out of respect earned from goodness. Rajneesh, on the other hand, seemed to lack moral goodness. His time ended in America, much as it did in India, with allegations of tax evasion, arson, wiretapping, bribes, threats, poisonings, hit-lists, and derailing trials.

The people Rajneesh chose to conduct his business affairs played dirty with politicians in attempt to sway laws to benefit of their organization. In my readings regarding their tactics, I would suggest that his hierarchy was not interested in religious empowerment but instead were interested in the pursuit of power. In one instance, Rajneeshees bused in homeless people from out of town with promises of food, beer, and rest in exchange for a political vote in their favor. In essence, Rajneesh created his world through recruiting and control compared to following his solo mission and people choosing to follow, as they did Buddha and Mahavira. 

According to former devotee Lasell Bartlett, those that didn’t act with permission at the Ranch were not trusted and loyalty was proven through lack of independent decision-making. For the most part, enlightenment should be an individualistic quest. These examples contradict with Rajneesh saying, “I believe that the very effort to convert anybody is violence. It is interfering in his individuality, in his uniqueness, into his freedom.” 

His religious teachings sold the package of utopian ideals, therapy, meditation and lectures for enlightenment. “What I am teaching you is a living, flowing religiousness - an experience like love,” he said. However, much of the behavior of his followers failed to resemble “love.” They strong-armed public officials and were suspected of poisoning people in an attempt to gain control. “Rajneeshees had executed the largest biological terrorism attack in U.S. history poisoning at least 700 people,” wrote Lez Zaitz of the Oregonian. This hardly seems like the teachings of love to me.

Not only did the ashram supposedly poison those not in their community, but former residents reported attempts to take out each other and Rajneesh himself. If Rajneesh was a guru, an enlightened teacher and immanent form of god, then why would his devotees attempt to kill him? To kill him would essentially be killing God. Many practicing Hindus don’t eat meat based on the idea that they don’t have the right to eat God’s creatures, let alone kill them. 

In a recorded conversation between Zaitz and Birnstiel, she claimed that Rajneesh told her, “If 10,000 people have to die to save one enlightened master, so be it.” This is a far cry from “flowing religiousness” and even further from the concept of a sannyasi on a spiritual retreat. 

In my eyes, there was little evidence of the love that Rajneesh practiced. In my conversation with Dharmarajdas, a Hare Krishna devotee in Eugene, Ore., he reminded that, “Real love found in the spiritual world is unmotivated, undisrupted and is not spontaneous. It’s the faith that is religion, it’s the service, what we do for God.” To me it seems what Rajneeshees were most concerned about was what they could do for themselves, not for God.

Some may say that enlightenment in Hinduism is having everything, to be full of all desires, and often in excess. This could be said of Rajneesh’s lifestyle. However, the negative impact he and his ashram had on the community in which they lived left a sour taste in many mouths. In addition, many former devotees ended up behind bars for proven crimes. Their behavior was not spiritually motivated but instead was motivated by greed and power—neither of which are values important to a sannyasi. 

A sannyasi may be free of all worldly rules and duties, but that is with the idea that their lifestyle is a quiet choice not affecting the wellbeing of others. With rap-sheets and attempted murders under their belt, Rajneesh and his ashram were mistaken in their quest for enlightenment. They acted immorally in the name of religion and, in my opinion, lost their way from the foundation of Hinduism. In the words of Gandhi, “As soon as we lose the moral basis, we cease to be religious. There is no such thing as religion over-riding morality. Man, for instance, cannot be untruthful, cruel or incontinent and claim to have God on his side.”