María Lionza, the image of the spiritualist cult confiscated by the Maduro government
The replica of the sculpture of María Lionza in front of the Central University in Caracas (Venezuela) Alicolmenares
At dawn and with the help of cranes, María Lionza, a 6.7-meter-tall woman embarking naked on top of a tapir with a pelvic bone as an offering sculpted by Venezuelan Alejandro in 1951, was stolen from the Central University of Venezuela Hill. The work was part of the art inventory of the university city, which was declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. The piece traveled more than 300 kilometers in a barge to reach Quibayo on Mount Sorte, where it is venerated by spiritism every October 12, the same day America and Europe are divided between conquerors and indigenous peoples in resistance . An old wish of Chavismo, which for almost 20 years struggled with the autonomy of the university for the revered piece, has materialized by force.
María Lionza, like almost everything in Venezuela, has polarized the country. In the first few hours there was talk of the theft of the huge sculpture. University authorities reported the incident and police treated it as theft. Only until the Venezuelan Federation of Spiritism confirmed in a statement that the painting had not been stolen but taken to the state of Yaracuy, where in the early 20th century there was clarity on what appeared to be an exploit by a network of art dealers. To, Culture Minister Ernesto VillegasShe wrote on Twitter: “Maria Lionza was ‘virtually abducted’ for almost 20 years in a place inaccessible to humans. According to Nicolás Maduro’s government, she has now been “released”.
18 years ago, in June 2004, the sculpture of María Lionza that now stands on the altar of Sorte, split in two. Years outdoors and poor handling of the work trying to make some molds to replicate caused the breakage. But in this Venezuela that was also beginning to fracture, what happened to Colina’s sculpture — with an extensive work in the city dedicated to indigenous chiefs — was providential. The piece broke at the waist on the eve of the referendum against Hugo Chávez, who was beginning to show his authoritarian role model’s teeth. “María Lionza, take him away!” some shouted as they walked past the image that has been an urban symbol on Caracas’ main street for decades, formerly known as Francisco Fajardo and recently renamed Gran Cacique Guaicaipuro, Chief of Chief became. The piece was right in front of the university that owns it, and the most zealous Marialonceros crossed the street, at the risk of being run over, to bring flowers and offerings.
This almost two-decade-old struggle began with the fragment. The University took care of the restoration with the patience of a restorer, together with the Foundation that manages the work of the sculptor Alejandro Colina. The lawsuit between the Caracas Mayor’s Office and the university, who disputed the care, reached the Supreme Court, which ruled in favor of the UCV. A year later it was restored, but the acting mayor — then Freddy Bernal, the official who sealed the opening of the border between Colombia and Venezuela a week ago — had already put a fiberglass and resin replica in its place. The university claimed its pedestal to place the original, but the so-called “goddess with the eyes of water,” which Panamanian salsa singer Rubén Blades made a song for, had a usurper. And another myth was built on local political gossip.
In its war of symbols, Chavismo not only went on the offensive with the copy, but a few months ago erected a few meters from María Lionza’s copy a huge and criticized golden brass sculpture representing the Guaicaipuro Indian. Accompanying the image are tiny men and women in Guayuco and a deformed concrete jaguar, crowning the street’s new name in honor of the “boss of bosses,” the epithet Google’s artificial geolocation intelligence is already repeating with its robotic sound on some sections of the street Autobahn where the name change was updated.
The Presidential Commission for the Recovery of the University City intervened a year ago on the campus, which was badly deteriorated due to lack of maintenance due to the budget suffocation that the government had subjected public university houses to. What happened to the sculpture was seen as a new blow to the autonomy that the Venezuelan constitution enshrines for these institutions.
Subscribe to EL PAÍS to follow all the news and read without limits.
Subscribe to
The intervention managed to renovate the university, but it did not go smoothly. One of these was conducted by Vice President Delcy Rodríguez, who, also at dawn, wanted to inspect the works in the university’s Aula Magna and struggled to open the doors and show them to Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores. In a statement, the commission reported that the Cultural Heritage Institute had issued “urgent measures” to protect María Lionza, who had been held in a shed for 18 years, waiting to be housed where the government placed the copy and “return to Venezuelans the right to worship and enjoy” the image.
“A month ago we prophesied that the Queen’s Sphinx would reach her land. Today we are making history,” stresses Richard Pérez, President of the Venezuelan Federation of Spiritism, in a video recorded by the official caravan that escorted the piece from Caracas to the state of Yaracuy in the west of the country. On the news, he signals to Nicolasito, Nicolás Maduro Guerra (Maduro’s son) and members of his cabinet. The coveted piece, kept in a shed for years, will now be in the care of Marialonceros cultists in the humid tropical forest of Sorte while the myth of the Venezuelan government’s ties to spiritual religions is dispelled.
Follow all international information on Facebook and Twitteror in our weekly newsletter.
María Lionza, the image of the spiritualist cult confiscated by the Maduro government Read More »