The historical origins of La Santa Muerte (Saint Death) in Mexico are obscure but the cult, now more popular than ever, has millions of followers. This strikes an unsettling chord with the country’s plague of murderous narco-related violence.

Sean Sheehan

Myriam Lamrani considers this confluence of the spiritual-poetic with fervid killings by criminal gangs.

The author’s approach is anthropological, focusing on the imagery associated with La Santa Muerte and its links with a country marked by chronic insecurity, unbridled capitalist policies and deep-state political collusions with drug cartels. Hundreds of thousands of people have been murdered and this makes a personal impact on Lamrani when someone she comes to know through her fieldwork is gruesomely killed in a case of mistaken identity.

Oaxaca is one of the poorest states in Mexico. Its people are seen as indio (Indian) or indígena (indigenous) and Lamrani, herself of European Arab origin, hears the call eee gȕera (the [feminine] white one) when she is out on the street. Racism demands a hierarchy and its gradations – and not only in Mexico. Note the phenomenon in Britain of distinguishing between refugees from Ukraine and those from the Middle East or Africa.

The book’s title comes from realizing the depth of people’s interactions with saints and Saint Death in particular. She finds relationships between the living and the dead that are deeper and more intimate than ones prevailing in many other parts of the world. Framed photographs of deceased loved ones often appear alongside figures of Le Santa Muerte. She is traditionally depicted as a robed skeleton, sometimes with a scythe in one hand, and she is worshipped for her healing powers in matters of physical, mental and emotional well-being.

In this respect, she is no different from other saints who come and go across the country, including humourous ones like Santa Mari La Juaricua, the saint of anti-gentrification in Mexico City.

The convergence of saint-based superstition with the business of drug cartels comes from the way aspects of this cult have been absorbed into the subculture of narcotrafficking. A devotee with tattoos of Saint Death on his arm could, it seems, be mistaken for membership of a cartel. Oaxaca is famous for its Diá de Muertos (Day of the Dead) festival and equivalent celebrations are not uncommon in Latin America. As a reminder of human mortality this is understandable but the author finds an intimacy with images of death that is peculiar to Mexico. This is not altogether a convincing proposition although there does exist a kind of mythology about the male Mexican who is recklessly indifferent to his mortality. Perhaps that is why Le Santa Muerte lends herself to young men engaged in violent narco-related activities.

There is, in the words of Jonathan Meades, a wider context: “After sex, shelter, food and intoxication comes the elemental human instinct for the creation of planned superstition”.

“The Intimacy of images: saints, death, and devotion to la Santa Muerte in Oaxaca”, by Myriam Lamrani, is published by University of Texas Press.

(Images supplied by the publisher and authorised for publication.)