From China let us pass to Japan.
In Japan belief in spirits is also extraordinarily widespread, but it seems that, contrary to what might at first sight be supposed, the influence has come rather from the Malays than the Chinese. The belief in spirits and the literature which it has produced is so great that research suffers rather from superabundance than from lack of materials. A Japanese writer remarks that “the difficulty of collecting materials for an article about ghosts is that there are so many of them.”1
Possession by a large number of animals is known. That produced by foxes is the most frequent, but there is also possession by cats, badgers, dogs, monkeys, and snakes, as well, of course, as by non-animal spirits. The various kinds of possession are not equally frequent in different parts of Japan; sometimes one, sometimes another predominates.2
Possession is so widespread in Japan that there is a religious sect, the Nichiren, which has made exorcism its particular task. Near Tokyo in the village of Nalayama is a famous temple of this sect where possessed persons of all kinds assemble in periodical retreats for the purpose of exorcism.3
We owe some detailed accounts of Japanese possession to an ex-professor of medicine at the University of Tokio who died some years ago, E. Bälz, who during a residence of many years in that country had opportunity for personal observation of a number of cases.4 He declares them to be “of exactly the same character as those described in the Bible.”5 Although this phenomenon may be known throughout eastern Asia, it apparently does not arise in epidemic form. “In those parts possession is very widely disseminated in China, Japan and Korea. There are only isolated cases, infectiousness is slight, and the hysterical and erotic factor is in complete regression.”6 This absence of epidemics of possession would be, if generally confirmed, very interesting from the point of view of racial psychology; it would reveal a profound disparity between the suggestibility of various races, since extraordinarily dense populations like that of China, very conservative in intellectual matters, present all the conditions likely to foster psychic epidemics.
This low degree of suggestibility would be closely and very comprehensibly bound up with the further fact, of such great psychological importance, that in Mongol civilization ecstasy is practically non-existent and has never played an important part in the history of religion. In the language of Paulhan’s
characterology, these people belong to the “types produced by the predominance of systematic inhibition (masters of themselves, reflectives).”1
According to Bälz, Japanese possession is characterized by the fact that it is not produced by a human or demonic spirit but by an animal one. In eastern Asia various animals are accused of entering into man: the tiger, the cat, the dog, but especially the fox. This last was originally the symbol of a divinity, but supplanted it long since and became itself an object of veneration.2
From the psychological point of view this phenomenon, as we have already said, presents no fresh difficulty for our solution. The state is one of automatic and obsessive imaginary identification (Einfühlung) with animal personalities, a very naïf affair, for the animals are credited with intelligence and even with human speech.
The duration of the malady differs widely from one case to another.
Many foxes remain only for a day, play all sorts of malicious tricks, frighten their hosts and those around by their speech and actions, and then disappear. Others take up their abode and stay for years, making themselves felt from time to time and braving all the exorcisms and expulsions of priests or any other persons.3
In Indo-China it is the ox which, according to Marie,4 takes the place of the fox; in Niam-Niam the boa-constrictor.
We reproduce below two cases observed by Bälz. In both the patient remains as a rule fully conscious, but in the first case this consciousness disappears during the more violent fits, so that it may serve at the same time as a good example of this phenomenon.
I have several times had the opportunity of observing personally these cases of possession by foxes. I once had a possessed woman in my university clinic at Tokio for four weeks.
She was forty-seven years old, strong, sad-looking, born of a well-to-do peasant family; she was in good physical health, had scarcely an hereditary blemish, and was not very intelligent. Eight years previously she had been with friends when someone related that a fox had been driven out of a woman in a village and was now seeking a new abode. People must be careful! This unfortunately stuck in the peasant-woman’s mind and the same evening when the door was opened unexpectedly she felt a prick in the left side of the chest. It was the fox. From that moment onwards she was possessed. In the beginning the sinister guest contented himself with occasional stirrings in her bosom, and mounting into her head criticized by her mouth her own thoughts and made mock of them. Little by little he grew bolder, mingled in all conversations, and abused those present. By night he led the poor woman a hellish life. She went to all the exorcists, for instance to the hoiny, that is to say wandering mendicant monks from the mountains (corresponding exactly to the orpheotelestes) who went about the country and specialized in the cure of possession. All in vain! The priests of other sects and pilgrims of all sorts of temples were equally impotent. While she told us, with tears in her eyes, about her sufferings, the fox announced himself. At first there appeared slight twitchings of the mouth and arm on the left side. As these became stronger she violently struck with her fist her left side which was already all swollen and red with similar blows, and said to me: “Ah, sir, here he is stirring again in my breast.” Then a strange and incisive voice issued from her mouth: “Yes, it is true, I am there. Did you think, stupid goose, that you could stop me?” Thereupon the woman addressed herself to us: “Oh dear, gentlemen, forgive me, I cannot help it!”
Continuing to strike her breast and contract the left side of her face, she said to the fox: “Be quiet, brute! Are you not ashamed before these gentlemen?” The fox replied: “Ha, ha, ha! I ashamed? And why? I am as clever as these doctors. If I were ashamed it would be for having taken up my abode in such a stupid woman!” The woman threatened him, adjured him to be quiet, but after a short time he interrupted her and it was he alone who thought and spoke. The woman was now passive like an automaton, obviously no longer understanding what was said to her; it was the fox which answered maliciously instead. At the end of ten minutes the fox spoke in a more confused manner, the woman gradually came to herself and was soon back in her normal state. She remembered the first part of the fit and begged us with tears to forgive her for the outrageous conduct of the fox.
Similar fits came on from six to ten times a day or even more. They did not occur in sleep or else she awoke when one was imminent. I had her carried into a room with a glass wall so that I could observe her at any moment without her knowledge. Things always took the same course, only varying in degree of violence and in duration. When she was alone the fit still began with convulsions, the blows on the left breast and the colloquy between the mistress of the house and her guest. Any psychic excitement, such as the doctor’s visit or a remonstrance from the clinic, paved the way for a fit.
In view of the woman’s poor level of intelligence and the rest of her character, it was astonishing to see the cleverness of speech, the witty and ironic language, so unlike the patient’s own, which the fox displayed. (He never tried to speak in foreign tongues.) Once when I entered the room with some students and was putting various questions to the fox, the latter suddenly cried out in his mocking way: “Look here, Professor. You might do something more intelligent than trying to entice me by your questions. Don’t you know that I am really a gay young girl, although I live in this old frump? You should rather pay court to me (die Kur machen) properly. These young gentlemen over there (pointing to the students) don’t seem to want anything of me, and moreover I am pleased with you. But I have had enough for to-day. Good-bye!” And he departed, while the room resounded with the laughter of the bystanders.
Once I ga
ve a narcotic to the patient, and as might have been anticipated, the first unpleasant whiffs of chloroform sufficed to bring on a fit. The struggle of the two egos lasted until loss of consciousness supervened. But the fox had the last word, and when the patient came round it was he who spoke first complaining that he had been ill-treated.1
My efforts to effect a cure by verbal and other suggestion, by hypnosis, electric treatment, etc., were fruitless. The sick woman had passed through the hands of so many famous suggestionists, priests and exorcists of all kinds, that I in turn could do nothing in this direction. Her malady had taken the form of a regular periodic delusion2 to which she sought gradually to accommodate herself. Between the fits she was in full possession of her senses, although timid. Her memory had not suffered essentially, and there were in general no signs of degenerescence.
It should be observed that the fox does not openly refuse to go, but attaches conditions to his departure. He desires, for instance, that certain food should be placed for him in such a place, and if this is promised leaves the body exactly at the stated time.3
We shall recall Bälz’ case already cited (pp. 106 sq.)
The facts related about possession by the tengu spirit are remarkable. In contrast to possession by other spirits, possession by him appears to have no trace of maleficient or diabolic character.
When a man is obsessed by a tengu, he merely becomes preter-naturally learned or solemn, reading, writing, or fencing with a skill that would not be expected from him. Exorcism is of little importance. For possession by evil spirits, foxes, badgers, and the like, there are many forms of exorcism in vogue, the sect of Nichirin being especially noted for its labours in this kind of healing.4
It is evident from the general character and mutual consistency of these statements that we cannot explain them away as representing no more than that particular aptitude for harbouring a spirit by which the Greeks explained the gift of poetry as the inspiration of Apollo or a Muse. There must clearly be in the case under discussion a sudden and abnormal increase in certain capacities. Unfortunately the accounts are so laconic that it is impossible to gather a more precise idea of the real facts. I must, however, at least mention these peculiar statements so that someone else may perhaps elucidate the matter by local investigation.
Possession is no more a new phenomenon in Japan than elsewhere; it is rather very old. The earliest case known to me dates back to the year 1565. It is to be found in Görres, who has taken it from a book by Delrio, Disquisitiones Magicœ, from whence it may in turn be traced to the stories of the missionaries.
At Bungo, in Japan, so the missionaries relate, a certain family had in 1565 already been possessed for a hundred years; the malady was handed down as hereditary from generation to generation. The father had spent all his fortune in attempts to placate the gods, but instead of ceasing the evil had rather increased. A son, aged thirty years, was possessed to such a point that he recognized neither father nor mother and took no food for fifteen days. At the end of this time a Father of the Society of Jesus came to see him and commanded him to say the name of the Archangel Michael. When this name was pronounced he was seized with a great trembling and his limbs were convulsed in a manner which alarmed the bystanders. But after he had invoked the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit he was suddenly delivered from the demon.
A few days later his sister was seized by the demon who spoke by her mouth. At certain moments when she had heard a sermon in the abbey, she wished to be converted to the Catholic faith; but if she drew near the font and made the sign of the cross, she fell to trembling and had violent convulsions. Joining her, the Father prayed earnestly; she herself strove to pronounce the name of Jesus and the Archangel; but her mouth only shut the more obstinately. At length she suddenly began to sing: “If we reject Xaca and Amida, no one is left to adore; there is nothing blameworthy in serving them nor others like them.”
One day the Father was assisting in divine service in the presence of many Christians and of the possessed woman. At the end of the service he asked her how she was. “Never better!” replied she. But when he commanded her to say the name of St Michael she recommenced to tremble and grind her teeth. Thereupon the demon declared that he wished to come forth, but since he had now possessed the family for so many years he would leave it with regret. Once more commanded to pronounce the name, she replied that it was extremely difficult, then bursting into tears and bitter complaints she cried: “I do not know where to begin nor which way to turn!” The Christians then all fell to prayer and when that had lasted for some time the demon at length gave up his prey. Then she asked for a drink. When she was reminded to invoke Jesus and Mary, she pronounced the two names with such sweetness that those present thought they heard the voice of an angel.1
The phenomena of possession are also very prevalent in present-day Egypt. They are met with in all classes of society except the intellectual middle classes; in so-called high society exorcisms and their variants count amongst the day’s diversions. It is a very remarkable fact that possession in Egypt is not a survival of the old manifestations, but appears to have been introduced from Abyssinia a few decades ago; at least Lane, who in the nineteenth century studied conditions in Egypt very closely and described them with equal thoroughness, says nothing on this subject. According to Macdonald the Zar was still unknown there even in 1880.1
The general phenomena of possession in Egypt reveal no special peculiarity, and in fact bear a strong resemblance to those of the European Middle Ages. This is not true of the formulæ of exorcism known up to the present, which as compared with Christian exorcisms clearly attest a lower level of religious development. Like all the other procedure of Egyptian exorcism, they strongly recall the primitive rites of the same nature.
The most detailed description of the Egyptian Zar is found, according to Macdonald, in a book on harem life written by a lady (an Oriental?) whom he styles Mme. Ruchdi Pacha.2 This name is not to be found in bibliography. Probably the reference must be (although the name is spelt several times in the same way by Macdonald) to Rachid Pacha, a lady who, under the pseudonym of Richa Salina, published Harems et musulmanes, Lettres d’Egypte (Paris, 1902). Unfortunately I have not been able to procure this book, and it is for this reason that I give extracts from other accounts.
The orientalist Kahle was present in person at an exorcism about which he has really very little to tell, but he succeeded in taking a photograph. He met whole carriage-loads of sick persons returning from the ceremony—the best proof of the prevalence of the malady. There are in Cairo a series of sanctuaries where regular exorcism of the Zar is practised, and the well-to-do have it done at home. Exactly as in Christianity there are different forms of exorcism, complete and abbreviated, only in Egypt their length is a matter of money.
The duration of the exercises varies. Where there are ample means the ceremony is apt to be prolonged, and not infrequently lasts three and even seven nights. On the last night the principal ceremony takes place. The shêcha (exorcist) and other onlookers pass the whole of this night in the patient’s house and on the following morning accomplish the solemn sacrifice in which the exorcism reaches its crux. But as a general rule one night or at most two are considered sufficient; the ceremony begins in the evening and lasts until the following day…. The regular exorcisms of the Zar which take place in the sanctuaries are much simpler and last only a few hours.1
The Zar is not confined to Egypt, but is apparently to be found in the Near East. A more exact description of the Zar in Arabia, especially at Mecca, was given by Snouck Hurgronje thirty years ago, and in view of the stability of these states in the East his account might still apply. It appears from this document that the Zar at Mecca is frankly epidemic. Almost all the women are affected, but with a fairly mild form; for according to Snouck Hurgronje possession at Mecca has degenerated in an astonishing fashion and become a kind of pastime for the women. As the customary local exorcism conduces to satisfy woman’s love of
dress it is quite comprehensible that the desire to be stricken by the Zar should have become very general. But it is perhaps doubtful whether all that occurs can be considered as mere play-acting on the part of the women. Snouck Hurgronje seriously underrates the importance of autosuggestibility and does not observe that there are many cases where these phenomena are called forth by the will and then follow their course passively. He nevertheless conveys the definite impression that Zar-possession at Mecca involves no serious psychic suffering. According to Snouck Hurgronje men are “generally not troubled “by the Zar.2
Here is this author’s account:
Another genus of spirits which afford the women plenty of occupation are the Zar. The fight with the Zar displays at once the darkest and the happiest side of the Meccan women’s life…. From infancy they hear so much talk of the Zar that any specific maladies which overtake them generally appear as the domination of a Zar over the patient’s will. Sometimes this domination declares itself in the fact that the woman is thrown to the ground at certain moments and remains there for hours with her whole body in convulsions. Sometimes she seems to suffer from a definite malady which now and then disappears suddenly leaving nothing but pallor and widely open eyes; sometimes the patient is wild and raging in her fits. Scientists, doctors and men in general, are always inclined to resort either to the pharmacopoeia or to religious exorcism against diabolic power; the female relatives and friends, on the contrary, will hear of nothing but calling in an old woman accustomed to dealing with the Zar, a shechah-ez-Zar, and in the end they get the better of all resistance….
The shechah does not question the patient herself, but the Zar who inhabits her body; it sometimes happens that the conversation takes place in the ordinary manner and is thus understood by everyone present; but frequently the questioners use the Zar language which no man can penetrate without the shechah’s interpretation. At bottom the results of such conversations present little variety. On the reiterated injunction of the shechah the Zar declares himself ready to depart on a certain day with the usual ceremonies, if in the interim certain stipulations have been fulfilled. He demands a new and beautiful garment, gold or silver trinkets, etc. As he himself is hidden from all human perception, nothing can be done except carry out his wish and make gifts of the specified objects to the sick body which he inhabits; it is touching to see how these evil spirits take into account the age, tastes and needs of the possessed. On the day when the departure is to take place the patient’s women friends, invited for the purpose, come in the afternoon or evening and are offered coffee or sometimes a concert of flutes. The shechah and the slaves who are to accompany her in her operations with the drum and a sort of chant, are entertained with them and prepare for the work in hand.…
Possession, Demoniacal And Other Page 32