Religious Groups Fear Animal Protection Law Would Stifle Rituals

Another man might hire a lobbyist. But Ysamur Flores, he will summon Chango.

And summoning Chango, one of the 40 major deities of the secretive Afro-Cuban religion Santeria, is no humdrum chore. Prayers will be spoken and sacred symbols arranged, forming an altar, explained Flores, a Santeria priest. And an animal, preferably a male sheep, is needed.

A knife will be plunged into the ram’s neck. Then, with a deft twist of the wrist, Flores will quickly sever the animal’s head, its blood spilling onto the altar of Chango.

Only then, Santeria followers believe, will the god of fire and war be awakened to their plight.

The problem: Los Angeles officials are considering an ordinance that would outlaw the sacrificing or maiming of animals for religious purposes.

“People ask, ‘Can’t you do it without animals?’ The answer is no, we can’t,” said Flores, who operates a storefront ministry in South-Central Los Angeles. The offering of the animals, the use of their blood, “is the essence which brings the orishas (Santeria deities) to life. To remove the sacrifice would be to remove the religion itself,” Flores said.

Such ceremonies as the one described by Flores--something he usually does in his back yard--are now legal in Los Angeles, as in most areas of the United States, so long as the killing is performed in what is considered a humane manner.

But the Humane Society of the United States and other animal protection groups, saying that incidents of ritualistic, often gruesome animal killings are on the rise, are campaigning for to outlaw religious animal sacrifices. In Los Angeles, the proposed measure is expected to get a full airing today at City Hall in a meeting of the Board of Animal Regulation.

Santeria followers say such a law would violate their constitutional guarantee to freely practice their faith. Estimates by Santeria priests of followers in Los Angeles vary from 50,000 to 100,000, third largest in the United States, after the Miami and New York regions.

But animal rights activists such as attorney Arthur Margolis, a member of the Board of Animal Regulations, argue that the First Amendment can hardly be interpreted as a justification for the suffering of animals.

Animal sacrifices--practiced not only in Santeria, but among Satanists and voodoo believers--simply should not be tolerated in civilized society, they say. After all, Margolis and others point out, prevailing interpretations of the First Amendment offer no legal protection to people who maintain that their religion sanctions polygamy, the use of illegal drugs or, for that matter, human sacrifice.

At the very least, the measure has provoked a clash of cultures and an intense and intricate moral debate concerning the rights of man and the rights of animals.

Just what, exactly, constitutes the religious sacrifice of an animal?

Although ritualistic killings as practiced in Santeria may seem offensive to mainstream American morals, animal sacrifices date from the earliest spiritual practices, including the Judeo-Christian tradition. The Old Testament describes sacrifices of bulls, sheep, oxen and goats by the thousands. Over the centuries, there has been an evolution of such practices, scholars say.

“You could ask whether our Thanksgiving dinner should be considered a religious animal sacrifice,” said Robert Ellwood, a USC religion professor. Moreover, the kosher slaughters of Judaism and halal slaughters of Islam both represent sacred practices in which animals are killed, he pointed out.

Among the key distinctions is that in the Judaic and Islamic practices the butchering of animals is not performed in a service of worship. Nor is the animal’s spirit, or life force, offered as a sacrifice to God. (In the Islamic ritual, however, the butcher pronounces that slaughter is performed “in the name of Allah the Great,” said Saad Alazzawi, director of the Institute of Islamic Studies of Southern California. It is one ritual in which it is forbidden to say “Allah the merciful.”)

Margolis of the animal regulation board acknowledges that the city must move with care in legislating against animal sacrifice.

“It’s possible a realistic position would be . . . that we set down very careful guidelines that assure humane treatment--assuming that killing an animal can ever be humane,” Margolis said. “We could pass specific laws that prescribe how it can be done, and allow for inspections and observations.”

The problem is that Santeria is a very discreet religious practice, and outsiders are not welcome to their ceremonies. Only a few priests publicly discuss the practices.

Santeria is often described as a blend of Catholicism and voodoo, and has its roots in southwest Nigeria. The religion has a large following in Cuba, throughout the Caribbean and Brazil.

Many Santeria believers also consider themselves practicing Catholics, sometimes attending Mass one day and a Santeria ritual on another.

Three Santeria priests--Flores, Monifa Balewa and Carlos Cambon--said that in their ceremonies the animal’s death is quick, as painless as possible, and the meat is cooked and eaten by worshipers. Besides sheep, Santeria followers also sacrifice chickens, goats and piglets.

The priests angrily disputed reports from law enforcement officers and animal protection groups that Santeria followers often mistreat animals before killing them.

“The animal we offer the orishas is a messenger from us,” Flores said. “You can’t send an abused messenger to God. It would be an insult.”

In Los Angeles, animal control officers say there have been increasing discoveries of animals that have been dismembered and surgically cut.

Flores, Cambon and Balewa complain that Santeria followers are often blamed for macabre acts that might be performed by Satanists, voodoo believers or simply people seeking sick thrills.

However, the Santeria priests who were interviewed could only vouch for themselves and the ceremonies they conduct. Moreover, it was clear that there is wide diversity of beliefs, even among these three priests. Balewa, who operates her ministry next door to Flores and caters more to blacks, speaks of “the Yoruba religion” as much as Santeria, and says she considers Jesus Christ to be a Santeria deity. Cambon is among those who consider themselves both practitioners of Catholicism and Santeria. Flores decribed himself as “orthodox Santeria,” with no need for Catholicism and no need to consider Jesus a deity.

Even with such disparities, the three insisted that no “true Santeria” would ever mistreat an offering to the orishas. One of their biggest problems, they say, is the presence of false prophets.

The reason is the profit motive. Santeria priests are thought to have some healing and prophetic powers and typically charge for their services. Both Flores and Balewa said they seek “donations” up to $25, but know of some “charlatans” who have charged $3,000 to perform bogus Santeria “cures.”

They speculated that these people--as well as Satanists, voodoo believers or just perverts--are to blame for gruesome killings of animals. The existing animal cruelty laws are sufficient to punish the culprits, but need to be better enforced, they suggested. Santeria followers say they will offer that message to the Board of Animal Regulation.

If the board endorses the ordinance to outlaw animal sacrifices, it will be forwarded to the City Council and mayor.

The Santeria priests said they will fight the law by seeking legal help and, if all else fails, break the law.

“City Hall can say whatever,” Flores said, “but we’re going to keep doing it. We’re not going to let our religion die.”