When you hear the word Vodou, what’s the first image that comes to mind? If it’s dolls stuck with pins, zombies controlled by sorcerers, or some other dark scene, then you’ve been shaped by Western pop culture. Just take Hollywood, for instance: Wikipedia lists more than 70 films about Vodou, and almost all of them push negative stereotypes.
In reality, Vodou is rooted in African traditions brought to the Americas by enslaved people, much like Brazil’s Candomblé and Umbanda or Cuba’s Santería. It is a vibrant animist practice centered on respect for nature, trees, spirits, and ancestors. “People say Vodou is the devil, that Vodou carries death. But Vodou is life,” explains to BdF Haitian sociologist Moise Dayiti. “To practice Vodou is to protect life, to keep it moving forward. It is a moment of respect for the environment, of living in harmony with nature.”
Resistance and history
Vodou has always been more than religion in Haiti. It has been a political force of resistance. In 1791, during the famous Bwa Kayman ceremony, enslaved Haitians gathered under the leadership of Dutty Boukman and called upon Vodou spirits, or loa (similar to the orixás in Candomblé), to guide them in the battle for freedom. That moment marked the start of the Haitian Revolution, which culminated in 1804 with the creation of the first independent Black republic in the Americas and the abolition of slavery.
This legacy has been punished ever since. France and other powers sought to isolate Haiti as a warning to oppressed peoples elsewhere. “From colonization to today, Vodou has always been attacked and defamed,” says Dayiti. “The French cut down our sacred trees, called them works of the devil. Today they say violence is Vodou’s fault. But Vodou has always been cultural, political, and economic resistance.”
Anthropologist Rodrigo Bulamah of Rio de Janeiro State University (UERJ) describes Vodou as “a system of knowledge that values community over individualism, honors ancestors, protects nature, and provides healing.” He notes its parallels with Afro-Brazilian religions: drumming, dancing, spirit possession, and collective ceremonies. Like in Brazil, people in Haiti often move fluidly between Catholicism, Pentecostal churches, and Vodou practices.
Campaign of stigmatization
So why has Vodou been so persistently vilified? U.S. occupation forces (1915–1934) tried to eradicate it, with Marines cutting down sacred trees, actions that ironically reinforced belief in the spirits said to live there. More recently, foreign Pentecostal missions have spread racist narratives, going as far as to claim that Vodou caused Haiti’s devastating 2010 earthquake.
Even mainstream Western outlets have echoed these views. In 2010, a New York Times columnist argued that Vodou held Haiti back by discouraging planning for the future, an assertion scholars reject as racist and ahistorical. In Brazil, similar prejudice has been repeated in national newspapers, equating Vodou with corruption or social decay.
For Haitian thinkers, this stigmatization is no accident. “Haiti is not a poor country, but an impoverished one,” says geographer Wisnel Joseph, who hosts the podcast Haiti is also here. The campaign to demonize Vodou, he argues, is part of a broader historical project to weaken and isolate Haiti—the first Black republic in the world.
