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Max Weber's theory of charisma and routinization is related to his concern with ideas as social forces, to his view of rationalization as the basis for human action and societal organization, and to his concern about how domination/authority is acquired and legitimated. This chapter reviews and critiques this theory and suggests that, contrary to Weber's contention, Rastafari has entrenched itself in Jamaican society without the development of formal organizational structures. Rastafari's routinization has been occasioned by the development of an informal network and ethos, by the changing attitudes of Jamaican society to the movement, and by the dominant influence the movement has exerted on Jamaican society since the 1960s.

This chapter examines two chief African responses to the European missionary enterprise from slavery to the 20th century. One response was to incorporate aspects of the Christian faith into the African religious heritage. Native Baptist (c.1830s-c. 1860s), Revival Zion (1860s- ), and Rastafari (1930s- ) traditions represent this type of religious formation. The Native Baptists were associated with the African-American evangelist George Liele, who began his missionary work in Jamaica during the late 18th century. The Revival Zion tradition represents a resurgence of the Native Baptist religion. With a Pan-African orientation and deep socio-political convictions, Rastafari, more than any other African-oriented tradition on the island, has shaped the postmodern, post-Christian African personality in Jamaica. African loyalty to Christian orthodoxy, another African-Jamaican response to European missionary Christianity, is also considered in this chapter as it was taught and reinforced by generations of missionary groups, especially after the last quarter of the 19th century.

This chapter explores attempts made to reclaim antiquity from European ownership by the Black biblical hermeneutic tradition. The argument focuses upon the political philosophies and cosmologies of Marcus Garvey and the Rastafari movement in order to investigate how they reconfigure antiquity as African by virtue of the material and spiritual prominence they give to Ethiopia instead of Greece and Rome. The chapter also explores the differing registers used by Garveyism and Rastafari to achieve this aim – the former developmentalist, the later cosmological. The argument suggests that Garveyism and Rastafari, and the shift made by the later towards a cosmological understanding of antiquity, deserve serious and critical consideration in the ongoing project to decolonize the heritage and ownership of the Classical world.

This chapter explores the new terrain for Rastafari identity formation as the movement persists well into the twenty-first century. This new terrain involves internationalization of Rastafari identity, new technologies, changes in social class, demographics, and attitude among the Rastafari as women, youth, and well-off people participate in shaping the personal and collective representations of Rastafari. All of this is occurring as older Rastafari like the subjects interviewed for the study grow infirm and “drop off” (pass on). The chapter goes on to detail the major shifts occurring within the movement, especially as Jamaica itself has changed over the years since the movement's inception. Additionally, this chapter considers the efforts made by the older Rastafari to communicate their cultural knowledge and lived experience to younger generations.

Cheryl Ryman offers an intensive view of the complexities and richness of Jamaican folkloric dance. She sets up a detailed context for her unusually complete description of the dances, giving insights into ways in which all dance cultures can be identified, the African aesthetics and spirituality that define Jamaican dance, and the way a dance event evolves, reflecting what happens in much of the Caribbean. Ryman's extensive descriptions of such traditions as Jonkonnu, Bruckin Party, Buru, Maypole, Mento, Kumina, the Nine Night dances, including dinki mini and guerre, Maroon Kromanti play nation dances, Etu, Hosay, and Rastafari greatly enhance knowledge of the complications of Jamaica's historic folkloric culture.

The messianic character of the Rastafari movement, and especially its apocalyptic representation of the future, deeply influences the daily life as well as worldview of the rastas. In reggae music, the eschatology is everywhere: it defines both practices and representations that belong to the present, contaminating them, as it were, by charging them with meaning. The future provides the present with an intensity that the past lacks: the effervescence of collective redemption, the fulfillment of a long-awaited justice, the final coming of the myth into human time. In the Book of Revelation, Babylon becomes the archetype of Evil. For the rastas, history offers a long list of Western wrongdoings, whose apogee was slavery and colonialism. Mental slavery is exerted through the whole social structure, from the education system to religious institutions to the media to the government, which are all viewed as actively participating in a vast enterprise of exploitation. The description of Babylon is made by using images of war and symbols from the Bible.

Reggae music expresses a central will: the recognition of a history of struggle – against slavery, segregation and colonisation – which is logically attached to Jamaica, but also goes beyond its borders. This historical memory has three main goals: first, to reveal a history of resistance considered as having been underestimated as well as hidden by Europeans; second, to restore dignity by showing that resistance started with the first captured slave; and third, to transmit this history of resistance, in particular to generations to come. The history of resistance, only ‘half told’, is cherished by the Rastafari movement and transmitted in reggae music, precisely because it has been distorted and mistold. Four major themes that build and form this history in reggae music can be identified: the Jamaican maroon communities and peasant revolts in Jamaica; Marcus Garvey; the figures of the black struggle in the United States; and the independence and anti-apartheid movements in Africa. The socio-political memory conveyed by reggae music concerns the Africans of the diaspora and the Africans of Africa.

The message contained in reggae music is above all a message of denunciation: the point is to show what is really happening, based on the fundamental distinction made by Rastafari between Good and Evil, between Zion and Babylon. Within a world viewed as a permanent struggle, reggae music develops a social critique and a denunciation of oppression. Reggae is therefore a music of resistance, based on a rhetoric of oppression that defines the terms which govern a worldview, and is rooted in the daily reality of the lives of poor people in Jamaica. Reggae music argues that poverty is neither a shameful condition nor in the order of things, but rather is only the consequence of the corruption of an elite that maintains a society based on exploitation, which therefore could be changed. Rastafari can be considered as a strong critique of consumer society and, more generally, capitalism. The rhetoric of oppression developed by reggae music articulates a fundamental opposition between the oppressors and the oppressed (based on the essential distinction of Babylon/Evil and Zion/Good), and the notion of hope.

Reggae has always been a socially and politically engaged musical style, which conveys a strong and explicit revolutionary message. Indeed, the narrative contained in reggae music is not only a denunciation: it also puts forward a call for political engagement and struggle, and even for revolution. The rejection of paradise and hell, to which the Last Judgment is substituted (eternal life for the righteous, eternal punishment for the sinners, after the return of the messiah and the judgment of God), plays a central role in the constant articulation made, within the Rastafari movement, between eschatology and revolution. The notion of revolution is present in reggae music, throughout its evolution and in Jamaica as much as in Great Britain. Reggae music can be considered as the narrative of a history as much as of a memory, as a tool of communication and of transmission of a religious knowledge and socio-political message. Through it, hope is entertained and redemption promised.

Reggae music transmits a multi-leveled memory that relates to historical knowledge – from anti-slavery icons in Jamaica to apartheid in South Africa – but also to religious knowledge: through its close association to the Rastafari movement. In reggae music, memory now appears as a complex process. Indeed, the construction of a ‘time-memory’ mobilises an articulation of both historical and mythical times: a continuity is built between the mythical origin and the present, between the mythical origin and the apocalyptic future, and, ultimately, between religious utopia and profane utopia. This book has shown that reggae music conveys a narrative of the past, which gives the latter a fundamental function in shaping the present. However, this ‘past’ quickly took on a both sacred and profane dimension. The eschatology is not, in the case of reggae music, something that is far away and separate from the present: to a certain extent, it overflows the sacred plane and spills into the profane, historical plane. The book has also articulated three concepts: tradition, revolution and revelation.

This chapter discusses how Blackness and its various permutations—especially the morally configured ones—develop in Jamaica and persist to the present. It looks at the lineage of Rastafari rhetoric and practice, the varied routes they traveled in becoming who they are, and how on the eve of the twenty-first century, a people who only four decades earlier were feared and despised, had become cultural exemplars of Blackness. In Jamaica, morally configured Black identities like Rastafari draw deeply upon the cultural resources of racialized moral economies. These are cultural artifacts created and reinforced through Black people's experience of uprisings, reprisals, dashed hopes, marginalization, and a strong desire for better and for building genuine communitas.

This chapter draws on the stories of the Rastafari themselves to reveal why and how they became Rastafari, and how they utilize the justice motifs. The justice motifs function, among other ways, as ideas which provide a foundation for articulating grievances and framing alternatives. Truth, for example, can speak directly to Rastafari concerns with miseducation or deracination, and how these are wrongs. As such, the justice motifs have aroused the indignation of several generations of Rastafari, contributing to the longevity of the movement's orientation and to its wide appeal. For them, injustice and the past continually intrude upon the present, and it is through their identity that they address these intrusions. Hence, their life stories are situated within the streams of social history that they navigate and that have been visited in previous chapters.

This concluding chapter expands on the insights detailed previously in the book, reiterating the book's goal of offering a fresh look into the Rastafari movement by contextualizing the movement within the broader scope of identity formation on the individual and collective levels. We know that a person's identity is unquestionably a unique property based in an individual's unique experience. We also know that a person's identity is constructed through interaction with other people, historical imagination and social memory, and the cultural resources used to weave together a self-concept. But in combining these perspectives into the Rastafari identity, the chapter concludes that the Rastafari have not only applied positive valence to Blackness by subverting its stigma in general, but they have also woven a new identity for themselves.

This book offers a case study in social memory that also opens onto the articulation between sacred and profane time. Through the case of reggae music, it looks at the construction, transmission and use of collective memory, and therefore at the symbolic space occupied by the idea of a historical discontinuity, within a specific context that includes a difficult past, characterised by forced uprooting and the experience of slavery. Reggae music claims a role of transmission and articulates the question of collective identity in relation to the construction of the African diaspora. The terms history and memory have here a specific meaning, situated within the Durkheimian framework, in particular in the work of Maurice Halbwachs, who distinguishes between collective memory and what he calls historical memory or history. Religion, just like music, ‘makes sense’ for individuals as well as for groups. The book discusses how the Rastafari movement builds a religious future and articulates the three temporal tenses – past, present and future – within an apocalyptic conception of history.

Reggae music is seldom analysed without a reference to the Rastafari movement, the founding event of which was the coronation of Haile Selassie, Emperor of Ethiopia, which took place on November 2, 1930. In Jamaica, some interpreted it as the fulfillment of the prophecy announced by Marcus Garvey before his departure for the United States. Some scholars have proposed an analysis centered on religion, usually based on the Jamaican case and focused on sacred practices, and the beliefs in which they are grounded. In contrast with the religion-focused approach, other scholars have considered the Rastafari movement from a socio-political standpoint, emphasising its historical emergence in relation to a context of domination and its articulation around the key notion of liberation; these works usually concern the Jamaican case, and often represent a Marxist approach, using terms such as neo-colonialism, social stratification, economic deprivation and racial prejudice. This chapter explores the history of reggae and the Rastafari movement, focusing on dubbing and the emergence of the reggae dancehall.

Reggae charts mix different styles (roots reggae, dancehall reggae, etc.) as well as contents (love songs, slackness, religious or sociopolitical songs, etc), and are therefore representative of reggae music as a whole. This chapter analyses reggae charts in Jamaica from 1968 to 2000 to trace the general evolution of reggae music and to determine the extent of the presence of the Rastafari movement within reggae music. For this diachronic analysis, the chapter uses Jamaican annual singles charts, which have existed since the beginning of the 1960s and are based on weekly charts. The available data were ranked music charts until 1996 (23 or 26 best sales of the year, depending on the year), and charted hits after 1996 (for example, all the singles that made it to the charts at least once during the year). The chapter uses two different variables, song content and artists, to examine simultaneously the presence of a sociopolitical and/or religious message in the charts, and the presence of artists linked to Rastafari, even when they sing love songs.