Let us continue the reflection started in last column, when we discussed Ewá and her connection with mist and the serpent. In that text, we observed how the serpent figure is deified in several cultures, including in Candomblé, where snakes are associated with two sibling orixás: Ewá, the protagonist of our previous reflection, and Oxumarê, the focus of today’s.

We are approaching the end of this special series on thinking through the Orixás, which I have been publishing in this Folha.

The end of this series will in itself represent a new beginning, leading us to another cycle—a concept that strongly resonates with serpent symbolism. A recurring representation, also present in Candomblé and associated with Oxumarê, is the serpent that forms a circle by swallowing its own tail. This symbol corresponds to the Ouroboros, found in messages from Ancient Egypt as well as in Hindu, Norse, Greek, and other mythologies.

Sometimes depicted as a dragon, sometimes as a coiled serpent, always in constant motion. When thinking of natural phenomena, what does this evoke? Indeed, those who thought of the Earth’s rotation around its own axis and its elliptical orbit around the Sun were correct—this spiral movement resembles the constantly coiling serpent.

In Candomblé, the one who performs this movement is Oxumarê, around whom many itãs (sacred stories) have formed over centuries. One such itã tells that he, manifesting as a giant snake, circled the Earth—and continues to do so to keep the world turning, ensuring night and day across different parts of the planet.

In the wisdom of the terreiro communities, Oxumarê’s movement represents continuity, dynamism, and the sustaining force that keeps the world in balance. He is associated with cycles, with death and life. Reflecting on the “physical force” required to keep this circle in constant and synchronized motion brings forth the idea of a sustaining power—not only physical, but also spiritual and energetic.

In his rotating and hypnotic dance, Oxumarê can be seen as an invitation to a new way of understanding social reality—less rigid or confrontational. He shows how this can help us think of the world with more harmony. In a world currently shaped by dichotomies and irreconcilable views, Oxumarê teaches us the richness of dialectics—the dance between beginning and end, the complementary (not hierarchical) duality between the feminine and the masculine.

Oxumarê’s ability to transit between different spaces and unite what seems separate makes him a powerful metaphor for diplomacy: connecting nations, peoples, and cultures, bringing balance and renewal.

One itã tells that Oxumarê once escaped a prison by transforming into a small snake and slipping through a crack in the door. If we are speaking of an orixá who can be large enough to encircle the world and small enough to exit through a slit, we can also learn from him about conflict resolution.

This reflection also helps us understand Oxumarê’s link to the rainbow, symbolizing the connection between heaven and Earth, between visible and invisible realms. The rainbow becomes, therefore, a line of union, a symbol of beauty and strength that binds together what seems irreconcilable and brings harmony to difference. Just as diplomacy seeks to connect opposing sides, Oxumarê connects seemingly opposite dimensions and makes them coexist harmoniously.

Bringing this to Brazil’s political reflection, I believe that internally, the country’s institutions and their representatives still have much to learn from this ancient orixá. However, in foreign affairs, Brazil does what it can—within its capacities—to keep the fire away from the powder keg. It is a peacekeeping effort worthy of applause, recently reaffirmed by the Nobel Peace Prize awarded to the Japanese institution opposed to nuclear war.

We are near the end of the series, and Oxumarê prepares us for the final transformation. A few divinities from the Candomblé Ketu pantheon remain, and we will conclude with a text about Exu, the great messenger and orixá of crossroads, who guides us at the beginning and end of every journey.

May we, at the end of this cycle of reflections, begin another with the same vigor—renewing our views and perspectives, just as Oxumarê renews Earth and sky with each cycle.

*Originally published in Folha de S. Paulo.