On The Divine Eye and the Diaspora: Vietnamese Syncretism Becomes Transpacific Caodaism by Janet A. Hoskins (review)

Review Essay I: Hue-Tam Ho Tai

Nearly a century after its founding, Cao Đài or Caodaism deserves to be given the serious scholarly treatment that it receives in this monograph by Janet Hoskins. She writes of it as a religion rather than a sect, much less a “politico-religious sect” — as it used to be labelled — or a Disney-esque spectacle and tourist attraction. The Divine Eye and the Diasporais meticulously researched, richly detailed and engagingly written, making accessible to Angolophone readers the world of Cao Đài believers overseas and in Vietnam. Hoskins’s deeply sympathetic portrayal is especially welcome, given the complexity of Cao Đài religion and the misunderstandings to which its equally complicated history has given rise. For the purpose of this SOJOURNSymposium, I will not engage in a full review of the book or indeed of Cao Đài as an historical phenomenon or religious movement. Instead, I will offer a number of comments and raise a few questions as catalysts for further discussion.

As the title of the book under discussion hints, it focuses on two main themes: the history, beliefs and practices of Cao Đài and diaspora as an important dimension of Cao Đài today. To these themes I would like to add narrative as strategy and product.

Janet Hoskins has written a number of excellent monographs and articles based on her research in Indonesia, including the Benda prize-winning The Play of Time(1993). The Divine Eye and the Diasporashares some of the characteristics of her Indonesian work, namely an interest in religious beliefs and practices, in biography and life histories and in material objects that encapsulate lives. I was particularly reminded of her chapter “Who Owns a Life History? Scholars and Family Members in Dialogue”, which appeared in Southeast Asian Lives(Waterson 2007). In that chapter, Hoskins described the different sources, both written and oral, that she employed for her doctoral dissertation, the resulting dialogue with the son of the man she profiled — who objected to her portrayal of his father — and his own production of an account of his father’s life to be performed rather than written. That chapter, as well as other works by Hoskins, highlight the dialogic nature of ethnographic research and the construction and reception of the narrative(s) resulting from this research.

The ethnographic process is highly dependent on sources that are rooted in specific times and places as well as in the circumstances in which they are produced and performed. The entry point for the author of the narrative into his or her research is noteworthy. The biographical approach favoured by Hoskins yields fascinating insights into the life stories and in particular into the inner world of her informants, but it also has its limits. As Hoskins notes, “the stories we tell ourselves about our lives are structured by a search for coherence” (Hoskins 2015, p. 143). This observation holds even truer for stories that we tell about ourselves to others, especially those who do not inhabit the same cultural universe. On top of the narratives that informants shared with Hoskins is Hoskins’s own narrative; translation adds another layer of complexity.

Hoskins’s interest in Cao Đài was stimulated by her encounter with Vietnamese people in California. Only later did she travel to Vietnam and meet with Cao Đài believers there. I believe that this is crucial to understanding the emphasis that Hoskins puts on certain themes in her book. For instance, had Hoskins entered the world of Cao Đài in Vietnam rather than California, would the theme of diaspora have been as important to her study? How much do Cao Đài believers in Vietnam follow what happens in Cao Đài communities overseas? To be sure, as Hoskins...