Dziady and the ritual Slavic masks

Sunset on Ślęża - the beginning of my lesson.

A night walk on the slopes of Ślęża is not an activity I would recommend to faint-hearted or faint-spirited. Following a forest trail, in the dark dispersed only by a soft light of a torch, listening to your own breathing, screeching of the trees and wind, with every cell of your body sensing the presence of the spirits and souls inhabiting the sacred mountain of the Celts and the Slavs – this is (in my experience) a fusion of a horrifying horror movie and a cross-country race without a map, physical fitness and prescription glasses for astigmatism. But, on the other hand the forests of Ślęża under a clear sky of an October night is a compulsory stop for every seeker of Slavic traditions and spirituality – therefore, despite not having a map, a necessary level of fitness and my glasses, I took on the challenge of the horror cross country race. And also, so you, my reader, don’t have to do it.

During my night hike I was honored to be guided by people, who know the forests of Ślęża like the back of their hands; people who lead me – a city chick, terrified of darkness – were walking on the dark, woodland trail with the confidence of a person walking on well-lit high street of their own hometown. Watching the strength and confidence of my guides’ steps I could not believe that the creaking of the trees and whistling of the wind does not scare them, that they don’t find the darkness and palpable presence of the spirits terrifying, that they can see the right path where I could only see shadows, reaching out with branches full of bony fingers and claws. Following them I kept wondering how could they not be fazed by the experience I found so terrifying?

It’s not the darkness that’s scary, it’s the unknown.

I was scared of the dark forests of Ślęża not because it was dark, but because it was completely unknown to me. But for my guides – people who’d spent over a quarter of a century following the tracks of old Gods, looking for the lost spirituality of Slavs, discovering and reenacting the history, rituals, art, music and lifestyle of our ancestors – for them Ślęża was like their second home. Regardless of the time of day or year, regardless of the wind, rain, sunlight or the light of moon, they saw those forests as I see my living room – a friendly, familiar place, where one can rest, ponder and find oneself after battling the cruel and unforgiving, day-to-day reality.

For me and my guides, like for all humans in all times and cultures – it wasn’t the darkness that was scary, it was the unknown.

Yeah, but what about the masks?

(patience! It all will make sense eventually!)

In recent years the ritual masks (also known as karaboshki) have become more and more popular among Slavic Rodnovery. The masks are currently a necessary element of many (most?) Dziady rituals and are worn by all the ritual’s participants, because they are considered (by volhvs or zhrets) to be a form of protection against “evil spirits”. Some zadrugas (Rodnovers’ religious communities) require that people who do not have the masks, participate in the Dziady ritual standing back to the fire (facing the outside of the ritual circle), in order to ensure that those unmasked people are not spotted by “evil spirits”. It all sounds very magical and, as you can guess, it is enthusiastically taken on by more and more of Rodnovery communities.

Until recently I accepted the need of wearing the ritual masks without giving in much thought, but after my night walk on Ślęża I started to question it more and more, particularly after familiarizing myself with the research and literature on the topic.

Slavic ritual masks (book cover) on the left - a mask from XI CE found in Ostrówek, on the right a mask from XII/XIII CE found in Veliky Novgorod.

The demonic granny

Dziady is a ritual performed for the ancestors and with their participation. It usually takes place after nightfall, around a bonfire burning with a flame consecrated by the Gods. The ritual of Dziady is led by a volhv or a zhret and the ritual’s participants gather in a circle round a bonfire. The ancestors are called upon by the leading volhv/zhret through spells, prayers and offerings made through the fire.

So in a typical Dziady ritual we have a group of people, standing in the circle, in the light of the sacred fire, connected through their zadruga (the religious community), their faith, their ancestors (Rodnovers, by definition are all Slavs, so they all have common, Slavic ancestors), their Gods and a sacred flame, summoned by their volhv/zhret. How it is possible that in such a tight, protected circle suddenly there is a risk of an “evil spirit” jumping out of the scared flames? How? Who is this evil one supposed to be? Some sort of a fire-resistant  vampire? A demonic granny who, although wandering aimlessly amongst the living, has the ability to posses the holy flames and through them, in some magical/demonic way, she can also posses her unmasked grandchildren? Is it only me, or the „evil spirit” possessing sacred flames is a truly ridiculous idea?

The Slavic evil

Another issue is the understanding of what evil meant for our Slavic ancestors. Let’s not forget – the extraction of the evil outside of the human soul (to hell, devils, demons etc.) is a Judeo-Christian concept, which was as close to pre-Christian Slavs as women rights are to Muslims. There is no doubt that pre-Christian Slavs did not see the good-evil duality in a way that seems to be obvious to a person brought up in a modern, Western, Judeo-Christian culture. How do we know that? From studying Slavic demonology, which clearly shows that for Slavs the evil was born in people and not in some evil spirits, devils, or other deities/Gods.

According to Slavic demonology the truly evil spirits originated exclusively from humans. Vampires, topielec, poludnitsas or mares – all those demons were „born” from people who died a sudden or unjust death and all of them, with no exception existed only to inflict more evil on people. On the other hand, demons or spirits of nature (like leshy, zmej, skarbnik, bagiennik and others) had a mixed nature – depending on the circumstances could act in a harmful or beneficial way towards people.

So, if the true evil could originate only from people and the evil spirits were lost souls of those, who died a sudden death, how on Earth, those lost souls could make their way to the sacred fire and attack the living from within the ritual circle, protected by the faith of the participants, as well as the spells and prayers of the volhv/zhret?

Obviously, a careless person, taking a night stroll through a forest or near a river could easily be attacked by a lost soul. But the recent custom of the modern Rodnovers orders the unmasked (according to the recent doctrine – the unprotected) Dziady’s participants to face away from the fire and the protective circle, towards the unprotected outside world, suggesting that the outside world cannot possibly be the source of the “evil” danger. Again – is it me or the whole idea is just ridiculous?

The home is where the ancestors are

Do you remember the story of my night walk on Ślęża, from the beginning of this post? Remember my fear of the unknown and the confidence of my guides, for whom the slopes of the sacred mountain were like a second home? So now, remembering the unknown=scary, familiar=confidence rule, try to imagine a group of pre-Christian Slavs, brought up in a pagan tradition, completely oblivious to the Judeo=Christin concept of the Evil coming from the darkness/hell/underworld. Imagine those Slavs gathering near their village to conduct the Dziady ritual – to meet their ancestors, ask them for advice and for blessing. For them (the group of Slavs) it is a familiar ritual, for generations conducted several times a year, always in the same way. It is a part of their tradition, it’s a reunion with their family, their loved ones and their friends, who they were separated with by the death.

Our Slavs most certainly carry food and offerings for their ancestors. They light a fire to show the deceased the way back home. The Slavs might even carry ritual masks, representing the ancestors which are just about to be summoned. But do you really think that during this ritual they will hide behind some masks, scared that an “evil” something will jump out of the sacred fire to possess the innocent villagers? Besides, if they hide behind the masks, they risk that their ancestors won’t recognise them.

I think that it is far more likely that our group of Slavs while performing a ritual which is known to them for decades, if not centuries, they gather around the fire, raise their faces to the sky and with joy and open heart call out to their ancestors to show them the way home. They won’t be afraid of a ceremony known to them since they were children, they won’t be afraid because in the presence of their family, ancestors, sacred flames and a knowledgeable volhv/zhret, there is noting to be scared of. If they did carry the ritual masks, representing their ancestors, they will position them around the fire or maybe even hug or kiss them, like you would your grandma. But they most certainly would not put those masks on to cover their faces. After all, they came here to meet their family and their deceased, not to hide from them.

So now, after learning the lesson Ślęża gave me I will always celebrate Dziady without the masks and without being scared of “the evil”. I will stand tall to greet my ancestors, with my face uncovered, with courage and trust which my ancestors most certainly deserve. I will bring them my offerings and sit with them to tell them about all the things I achieved, which they can be proud of. I will listen to their advice and opinions, I will accept their blessing and will enjoy the gathering, the sense of security and the warmth, which comes from following the rightful and familiar path.

Slava!