SAO PAOLO – In Brazil since 2007, the National Day of Religious Tolerance (Dia Nacional de Combate à Intolerância Religiosa) is observed on January 21. This date was established in honor of Mãe Gilda, a religious leader of the Afro-Brazilian tradition Candomblé, who faced severe religious persecution and passed away in 2000 due to the stress caused by intolerance against her faith.
The day serves as a reminder of the importance of religious freedom and respect for diverse spiritual practices in Brazil, especially for Afro-Brazilian religions such as Candomblé and Umbanda, which have historically faced discrimination.
Acarajé (deep-fried bean cake) with fried shrimp and vatapá. [Photo Credit: Melsj CCA-SA 4.0]
In the days leading up to the National Day of Religious Tolerance in 2025, incidents of religious intolerance took place in front of the nearly century-old Terreiro Xambá in Olinda. Terreiro Xambá, officially known as Ilê Axé Oxalá Funfun, is a Candomblé terreiro (religious house) located in Olinda, Pernambuco, Brazil. It is the only remaining Xambá tradition terreiro in Latin America and holds the title of Living Heritage of Pernambuco due to its historical and cultural significance.
As reported by Marco Zero, during a ritual to Obaluaiê, the Orixá of healing, disease, and transformation, worshippers were confronted by a group of approximately 100 evangelicals from the Assembly of God who arrived with a truck, microphones, and musical instruments, attempting to hold a religious service right in front of the terreiro. The assault took place on January 10, 2025, and was clearly to disrupt the worship at the Terreiro.
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In the interview with Marco Zero, Ciani Neves, a law professor at the Federal University of Pernambuco (UFPE), discusses the Brazilian judiciary’s approach to racism and religious intolerance. She is a supporter of racial equity and works with the PEJI Project (Promotion of Education and Justice for Racial Equality), which maps judicial cases of racism, provides guidance for victims of religious racism, and offers free legal advice to Afro-Brazilian religious communities.
Ciani emphasizes that Brazil is engaged in a broader ideological struggle, where religious fundamentalism influences state institutions, including the justice system, legislature, executive branch, schools, and universities. This growing presence, she argues, poses a challenge to democratic values.
On the justice system’s response to religious racism, Ciani asserts that the system itself is built on racism, which perpetuates the dehumanization of Black Brazilians and Afro-Brazilian religious practitioners. She highlights the barriers victims face, particularly in police stations and courts, where officials often lack proper training on racial and religious discrimination. While some judicial training programs address human rights, race, and gender, she stresses that deep-rooted systemic racism in public service remains a major obstacle to justice.
Naturally, the incident sparked resistance from the Orixa community.
On January 24, 2025, the Terriro‘s religious leader Babalorixá Ivo de Xamba, spoke of the situation on Instagram and invited all the members of the Terreiro and the Axe communities, as well as Christians, Muslims, among other religious denominations, to join together on January 26, 2025 at 2 PM “for religious freedom” and “celebrate peace together and demand to the government guarantees us the freedom of worship.”
The Babalorixá and the Axe community invited the communities to join them in seeking peace and partaking of a savory delicacy, itself another point of contention.
That delicacy is Acarajé, a deep-fried fritter made from black-eyed pea dough, commonly stuffed with vatapá (a spiced paste of bread, shrimp, coconut milk, and peanuts). It is a traditional dish of Afro-Brazilian cuisine, particularly associated with Bahia and the Candomblé religion. The dish has its roots in its roots in West Africa, brought to Brazil by enslaved Yoruba people during the transatlantic slave trade.
The dish is closely linked to Candomblé rituals, where it is offered to Iansã (Oyá), the Orisha of winds, storms, and transformation. Traditionally, it is sold by Baianas de Acarajé, women in white lace dresses and headwraps who preserve the Afro-Brazilian culinary and religious heritage.
Acarajé – sometimes called the bread of Orixás and means “a fireball to eat” in liturgical Yoruba – is a symbol of Afro-Brazilian identity, sold in street markets, festivals, and religious ceremonies, especially in Salvador, Bahia. It represents resistance, tradition, and cultural pride. The dish is prepared and sold almost exclusively by Black women who are known as baianas do acarajé.
Evangelicals don’t like acarajé because of its spiritual significance. “It is not just a delicacy,” said Luiz Nascimento, academic director at the Seminário Teológico Batista do Nordeste (Northeast Baptist Theological Seminary) at Feira de Santana told Christianity Today. “Acarajé has a history related to religious practice that gives it another dimension.”
Some evangelical groups have been attempting to rename is acarajé as “Jesus fritters” referring to their consumption as sinful. Luiz Henrique Caracas, a pastor from an Assembly of God church in Ilhéus, Bahia, recounted an incident where a fellow pastor used 1 Corinthians 10:21 to justify avoiding acarajé, citing the verse: “You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons too.”
@pastorzico #resposta para @Plínio É pecado comer acarajé? #gastronomia #comida #restaurante #polemico #naoconcordo #segureavossafe
According to Caracas, the pastor had just returned from a trip and was searching for a place to eat when he came across an acarajé stand—the only available option. Before eating, he prayed aloud in front of the vendor, rebuking demons and consecrating the food to Jesus, believing it was spiritually tainted due to its Afro-Brazilian religious significance.
In a problematic trend, some evangelical entrepreneurs have begun selling acarajé under new religious branding, using names like “El Shaddai” or “Acarajé Gospel.” Scholars argue that this practice is a form of cultural and spiritual colonization.
Pai Rodney de Oxóssi, a Candomblé priest and anthropologist, denounces the erasure of acarajé’s sacred origins, calling it a form of racism. He stresses that even though slavery officially ended, systemic racism continues to manifest in everyday life—including in food and religion.
Anthropologist Patrício Carneiro Araújo, from the Universidade da Integração Internacional da Lusofonia Afro-Brasileira, highlights a double standard: “When people visit a Chinese or Japanese restaurant, they rarely question the owner’s religion or what rituals take place in the kitchen. Why, then, is African-origin food subjected to such scrutiny?”
Food scholar Aline Chermoula agrees, stating: “There is clear religious intolerance toward terreiro foods.”
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