This belief system must be understood against the backdrop of South Africa’s complex history. More than three centuries of slavery, colonialism, and apartheid—a system that confined approximately 80% of the population to 13% of the land—have had devastating effects on dispossessed communities’ psychological well-being. Yet, in response to these hardships, spiritual and religious ties have intensified, becoming vital to psychological restoration and resilience.
Our research highlights how ancestral spirits are perceived to reside in ocean waters, with the sea acting as a medium for communication and connection. This spiritual domain, however, presents a significant challenge within South Africa’s Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) processes. To comply with regulatory frameworks, cultural heritage impact assessments must translate such intangible, spiritual understandings into language and formats that are legible and intelligible to policymakers and Environmental, Social, and Governance (ESG) specialists.
I propose that the difficulty in rendering this spiritual domain arises from the existence of multiple realities. Contemporary South African society largely privileges tangible, legally scrutinizable realities—those which can be objectively measured, documented, and regulated. The spiritual realm, by contrast, lies outside these paradigms. It is not easily accommodated within standard EIA methodologies or cultural heritage assessments.
For example, when explaining to ESG professionals the local belief that the ocean serves as a conduit for ancestral spirits, it is often met with scepticism regarding spatial limits. Scientifically, one might argue that spiritual influence diminishes with distance, and offshore zones such as the Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) or Areas Beyond National Jurisdiction (ABNJ) are defined by clear legal boundaries. However, for local indigenous communities, the ocean is a singular, continuous entity. The ancestors’ presence transcends arbitrary geopolitical or jurisdictional divisions, extending as far as the waters exist.
The theoretical literature on reality and surreality offers valuable insights here. Julia Kristeva’s concept of the Chora—a pre-symbolic, rhythmic maternal space—provides a way to understand this spiritual oceanic unconscious. Before cultural narratives and heritage discourses are constructed, this Chora embodies memory, myth, and emotion flowing beneath conscious expression (Kristeva, 1984). The oceanic unconscious thus represents a domain where heritage is not fixed but fluid and pre-narrative.
In acknowledging multiple realities or “worldings,” as Pina-Cabral (2014) articulates, we open space for alternative logics in framing and responding to nature. This recognition is essential for achieving more inclusive, transformative ocean governance in South Africa and across the continent.
The work of Veronica Strang (2004) further deepens this perspective by exploring water as archive, memory, and metaphor—elements that shape philosophies of living and relationships to the environment. Water becomes more than a physical resource; it is a repository of cultural meaning and existential significance.
Considering these different realities and logics should be integral to the decolonial project in ocean governance. The mirror universe—a term describing this parallel, spiritual understanding of the ocean—serves as an entry point for dialogue and reconsideration of dominant environmental assessment frameworks.
If ocean governance and environmental impact assessments fail to integrate these spiritual and embodied realities, they risk perpetuating exclusion and undermining the well-being of coastal communities whose identities and practices are inseparable from the waters they inhabit.
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References
Kristeva, J. (1984). Revolution in Poetic Language. University Press: Columbia.
Strang, V. 2004. The Meaning of Water. Routledge: London.
Pina-Cabral, J. 2014. World, An anthropological Examination (part 1). Journal of Ethnographic Theory 4 (1): 49–73.