Possession, Demoniacal And Other

by T K Oesterreich

  Most of the information relevant to our subject is given by Skeat, the most detailed of whose accounts I reproduce below. It very obviously, as Martin has already remarked,1 shows a strong resemblance to matter relating to the pigmy races of the Malay Peninsula cited earlier in this work. The analogy extends even to the wizard’s name; amongst the pigmies he is called the poyang, amongst the Malays pawang. The ceremonial of the incense-burning is also reminiscent, but most important of all, the soul which forcibly enters into the possessed is amongst the Malays as amongst the pigmies that of a tiger. It is impossible without further research to say anything more about the genealogical relationship existing between the two. In all likelihood priority rests with the Malays, the pigmy races being so barren from the psychic point of view that they are probably the imitators.

  While in the Malay Peninsula, Skeat had the rare opportunity consequent on the sickness of his Malay collector’s brother, of being present at the exorcism of a sick man. This was carried out, in accordance with stereotyped traditional forms, in the immediate vicinity of the patient who was lying on a mat. The invocation of the spirit, which in this case was that of a tiger, was not conducted by the shaman but by his wife. I shall pass over all non-essentials and confine myself to the principal points in Skeat’s narrative which alone concern us here.

  Meanwhile the medicine-man was not backward in his preparations for the proper reception of the spirit. First he scattered incense on the embers and fumigated himself therewith, “shampooing” himself, so to speak, with his hands, and literally bathing in the cloud of incense which volumed up from the newly replenished censer and hung like a dense gray mist over his head. Next he inhaled the incense through his nostrils, and announced in the accents of what is called the spirit-language (bhasa hantu) that he was going to “lie down.” This he accordingly did, reclining upon his back, and drawing the upper end of his long plaid sarong over his head to completely conceal his features. The invocation was not yet ended, and for some time we sat in the silence of expectation. At length, however, the moment of possession arrived, and with a violent convulsive movement, which was startling in its suddenness, the “Pawang” rolled over on to his face. Again a brief interval ensued, and a second but somewhat less violent spasm shook his frame, the spasm being strangely followed by a dry and ghostly cough. A moment later and the Pawang, still with shrouded head, was seated bolt upright facing the tambourine player. Then he fronted round, still in a sitting posture, until he faced the jars, and removed the yam-leaf covering from the mouth of each jar in turn.

  Next he kindled a wax taper at the flame of a lamp placed for the purpose just behind the jars, and planted it firmly on the brim of the first jar by spilling a little wax upon the spot where it was to stand. Two similar tapers having been kindled and planted upon the brims of the second and third jars, he then partook of a “chew” of betel-leaf (which was presented to him by one of the women present), crooning the while to himself.

  This refreshment concluded, he drew from his girdle a bezoor or talismanic stone (batu pĕnawar), and proceeded to rub it all over the patient’s neck and shoulders. Then, facing about, he put on a new white jacket and head-cloth which had been placed beside him for use, and girding his plaid (sarong) about his waist, drew from its sheath a richly wrought dagger (k’ris) which he fumigated in the smoke of the censer and returned to its scabbard.

  He next took three silver 20-cent pieces of “Straits” coinage, to serve as batu buyong, or “jar-stones,” and after “charming” them dropped each of the three in turn into one of the water-jars, and “inspected” them intently as they lay at the bottom of the water, shading, at the same time, his eyes with his hand from the light of the tapers. He now charmed several handfuls of rice (“parched,” “washed,” and “saffron” rice), and after a further inspection declared, in shrill, unearthly accents, that each of the coins was lying exactly under its own respective taper, and that therefore his “child” (the sick man) was very dangerously ill, though he might yet possibly recover with the aid of the spirit. Next, scattering the rice round the row of jars (the track of the rice thus forming an ellipse), he broke off several small blossom-stalks from a sheaf of areca-palm blossom, and making them up with sprays of champaka into three separate bouquets, placed one of these improvised nosegays in each of the three jars of water. On the floor at the back of the row of jars he next deposited a piece of white cloth, five cubits in length, which he had just previously fumigated. Again drawing the dagger already referred to, the Pawang now successively plunged it up to the hilt into each of the three bouquets (in which hostile spirits might, I was told, possibly be lurking). Then seizing an unopened blossom-spathe of the areca-palm, he anointed the latter all over with “oil of Celebes,” extracted the sheaf of palm-blossom from its casing, fumigated it, and laid it gently across the patient’s breast. Rapidly working himself up into a state of intense excitement, and with gestures of the utmost vehemence, he now proceeded to “stroke” the patient with the sheaf of blossom rapidly downwards, in the direction of the feet, on reaching which he beat out the blossom against the floor. Then turning the patient over on to his face, and repeating the stroking process, he again beat out the blossom, and then sank back exhausted upon the floor, where he lay face downwards, with his head once more enveloped in the folds of the sarong.

  A long interval now ensued, but at length, after many convulsive twitchings, the shrouded figure arose, amid the intense excitement of the entire company, and went upon its hands and feet. The Tiger Spirit had taken possession of the Pawang’s body, and presently a low, but startlingly life-like growl—the unmistakable growl of the dreaded “Lord of the Forest,” seemed to issue … This part of the performance lasted, however, but a few minutes, and then the evident excitement of the onlookers was raised to fever pitch, as the bizarre, and, as it seemed to our fascinated senses, strangely brutelike form stooped suddenly forward, and slowly licked over, as a tigress would lick its cub, the all but naked body of the patient—a performance (to a European) of so powerfully nauseating a character that it can hardly be conceived that any human being could persist in it unless he was more or less unconscious of his actions. At all events, after his complete return to consciousness at the conclusion of the ceremony, even the Pawang experienced a severe attack of nausea, such as might well be supposed to be the result of his performance. Meanwhile, however, the ceremony continued. Reverting to a sitting posture (though still with shrouded head), the Pawang now leaned forward over the patient, and with the point of his dagger drew blood from his own arm; then rising to his feet he engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand combat with his invisible foe (the spirit whom he had been summoned to exorcise). At first his weapon was the dagger, but before long he discarded this, and laid about him stoutly enough with the sheaf of areca-palm blossom.

  A pause of about ten minutes’ duration now followed, and then with sundry convulsive twitchings the Pawang returned to consciousness and sat up, and the ceremony was over. 1

  A sudden collapse with loss of consciousness such as occurs amongst the pigmies is also observed amongst the Besisi of the Malay Peninsula who are of full stature. These have a special ceremony designed to summon the spirits. The most profound darkness together with smoke, music and muffled singing, are the means used to induce an abnormal state.

  As the incantation (which consisted of an invocation to the spirits) proceeded, one of the spirits commenced to give evidence of his descent, by taking possession of one of the company, who presently fell down apparently unconscious. While he was in this state (of possession) questions are put to him, apparently by anyone desiring to do so. The required information having been given, the possessed person was restored to consciousness by the inhaled smoke of the burning incense, which, I was assured by one of the company, will always “restore him immediately.” 2

  Possession by the spirits of animals is also found amongst the Malays, for example a monkey dance.

  The “Monkey Dance�
� is achieved by causing the “Monkey spirit” to enter into a girl of some ten years of age. She is first rocked to and fro in a Malay infant’s swinging cot (buayan), and fed with areca-nut and salt (pinang garam). When she is sufficiently dizzy or “dazed” (mabok), an invocation addressed to the “Monkey spirit” is chanted (to tambourine accompaniments), and at its close the child commences to perform a dance, in the course of which she is said sometimes to achieve some extraordinary climbing feats which she could never have achieved unless “possessed.” When it is time for her to recover her senses she is called upon by name, and if that fails to recall her, is bathed all over with cocoa-nut milk.1

  On the subject of autosuggestive animal possession Selenka also relates the following of the Dyaks of Borneo:

  Much was also told us of hypnotic states. These appear spontaneously or may be artificially provoked by such means as pulling a man’s head hither and thither for a quarter of an hour bythe corner of a handkerchief bound round it, a treatment designed to produce in the medium the illusion of being a monkey. The hypnotized person then behaves like a quadrumane, until the manang (medicine-man) delivers him from the charm. The name of this violent game is “calling down the monkey.” According to the Resident Tromp, illusions are also produced in which the hypnotized person believes himself to be a bird and behaves accordingly.2

  Let us now leave Asia and pass to the shores of the Pacific Ocean.

  From the South Seas we have a relatively very accurate description of shamanistic states in the Tonga Islands of Polynesia by the English observer Mariner. It is found amongst the extremely interesting and informative travel books previously mentioned.3

  Mariner remarked that the interrogation of the gods by priests under the influence of possession is of frequent occurrence in the Tonga Islands. It is noteworthy that the concomitant noisy drumming which generally serves to provoke inspiration is completely absent. The priests fall through the mere autosuggestion of a waiting period into divine possession which seems as a rule to last for some considerable time. The status which they enjoy is regulated according to the divinity speaking through them; they are even identified with him during the period of inspiration, and the King as well as the people treat them with submission. The Tonga islanders have already attained a height of religious development where human distinctions of rank are as nothing in presence of the divinity.

  As soon as they are all seated, the priest is considered as inspired, the god being supposed to exist within him from that moment. He sits for a considerable time in silence, with his hands clasped before him; his eyes are cast down, and he remains perfectly still. During the time that the victuals are being shared out, and the cava being prepared, the matabooles sometimes begin to consult him; sometimes he answers them, at other times not; in either case he remains with his eyes cast down. Frequently he will not answer a word till the repast is finished, and the cava too. When he speaks, he generally begins in a low and very altered tone of voice, which generally rises to nearly its natural pitch, though sometimes a little above it. All that he says is supposed to be the declaration of the god, and he accordingly speaks in the first person as if he were the god. All this is done generally without any apparent inward emotion or outward agitation; but sometimes his countenance becomes fierce, and, as it were, inflamed, and his whole frame agitated with inward feeling; he is seized with an universal trembling; the perspiration breaks out on his forehead, and his lips, turning black, are convulsed; at length tears start in floods from his eyes, his breast heaves with great emotion, and his utterance is choked. These symptoms gradually subside. Before this paroxysm comes on, and after it is over, he often eats as much as four hungry men, under other circumstances, could devour. The fit being now gone off, he remains for some time calm, and then takes up a club that is placed by him for the purpose, turns it over and regards it attentively; he then looks up earnestly, now to the right, now to the left, and now again at the club; afterwards he looks up again, and about him in like manner, and then again fixes his eyes upon his club, and so on for several times: at length he suddenly raises the club, and, after a moment’s pause, strikes the ground, or the adjacent part of the house, with considerable force: immediately the god leaves him.…1

  Some of the natives are such adepts at this sort of mysterious conversation with the divinities, that they can bring on a fit of inspiration whenever they feel their mind at all so disposed.2

  How strong the tendency towards states of possession finally becomes is evidenced by this observation of Mariner’s:

  It is customary to take a sick person to the house of a priest, that the will of the gods may be known. The priest becomes immediately inspired, and remains almost constantly in that state while the sick person is with him. If he does not get better in two or three days he is taken to another priest.3

  Unlike the generality of shamanizing peoples, the Tonga possessed have acquired, as we observe, a certain consciousness of their state, so that we have in them a rare case of lucid possession amongst primitive races. Mariner has obtained interesting information directly from a possessed man, and his account, although brief, is searching. It is the only document which I can quote adducing personal evidence on a state of lucid possession, and from the point of view of interest ranks with Surin’s testimony, with which we have already dealt.

  Now we are upon this subject it may not be amiss to mention that Finow’s son, who at this period of our history was at the Navigator’s Islands, used to be inspired by the spirit1 of Toogoo Ahoo, the late King of Tonga, who it may be recollected was assassinated by Finow and Toabo Neuha. When this young chief returned to Hapai, Mr. Mariner, who was upon a footing of great friendship with him, one day asked him how he felt himself, when the spirit of Toogoo Ahoo visited him; he replied that he could not well describe his feelings, but the best he could say of it was, that he felt himself all over in a glow of heat and quite restless and uncomfortable, and did not feel his own personal identity as it were, but felt as if he had a mind different from his own natural mind, his thoughts wandering upon strange and unusual subjects, although perfectly sensible of surrounding objects. He next asked him how he knew it was the spirit of Toogoo Ahoo? His answer was “There’s a fool! How can I tell you how I knew it? I felt and knew it was so by a kind of consciousness; my mind told me that it was Toogoo Ahoo.”2

  This passage clearly shows the inner transformation of the personal consciousness and also the lucidity of states of possession amongst the Tonga natives. They feel themselves transformed into the divinity which speaks by their mouth, they are no longer masters of themselves, their thoughts “wander.” The passive nature of the states is also manifested. The cause of the compulsion does not emerge as clearly as in Surin’s case, because the natives do not resist divine possession as did the Christian energumens the demoniacal variety. Nevertheless, the abnormal and passive nature of the psychic phenomena is evident; the divine presence invades the man, it is not created by him.

  Possession is not always confined to the priests; other persons, even the King, have similar states. “King Finow” used occasionally to be “inspired by the ghost of Mooimooi, a former King of Tonga,” 1 but “he was not strictly considered a priest on that account.” Mariner recollects no chief who was a priest; for although Tali y Tooboo inspired him the King was not on that account regarded as a priest, “those only, in general, being considered priests who are in the frequent habit of being inspired by some particular god.” 2

  The lack of any exciting music might lead us to doubt the genuineness of the whole performance, but such a thought is negatived by the description. Mariner himself raised the question of authenticity and replied without hesitation in the affirmative. What is still more important, it sometimes happens that the divine consultation must be interrupted because the priest cannot attain to a state of possession. Admissions of this nature were made to Mariner and he has preserved them to us as a testimony of an entirely unique nature to which I know no paral
lel in literature.

  Mr. Mariner frequently associated with them, watched their general conduct, and enquired the opinion of all classes of the natives respecting them; and after all, has no reason to think that they combine together for the purpose of deceiving people.3

  It might be supposed that this violent agitation on the part of the priest is merely an assumed appearance for the purpose of popular deception; but Mr. Mariner has no reason at all to think so. There can be little doubt, however, but that the priest, on such occasions, often summons into action the deepest feelings of devotion of which he is susceptible, and by a voluntary act disposes his mind, as much as possible, to be powerfully affected: till at length, what began by volition proceeds by involuntary effort, and the whole mind and body becomes subjected to the overruling emotion.4

  Mr. Mariner, indeed, did once witness a rare instance of a man who was disappointed in this particular: finding himself, as he thought, about to be inspired, some cava was brought to him (as is usual on such occasions), but, in a little while he was obliged to acknowledge that the god would not visit; at which all present were greatly surprised, and so the cava was taken away again.5

  False prophecies by possessed persons are also accepted without any particular scandal:

  When a priest is inspired, he is thought capable of prophesying, or, rather, the god within him is said sometimes to prophesy; those prophecies generally come true, for they are mostly made on the probable side of a question, and when they do not come to pass as expected, the priest is not blamed, but it is supposed the gods for some wise purpose have deceived them; or that the gods, for aught they know, have since changed their mind, and ordered matters otherwise; or that the god who inspired the priest spoke prematurely without consulting the other gods. 1

  Unlike those of the Sandwich Islands, the priests of the Tonga Islands do not form a special body. Only so long as the god is within them are they raised above the people. On the other hand, there is a certain degree of heredity in the priesthood, probably for the simple reason that the priest’s son is exposed in a high degree to the influence of suggestion; it is possession which first makes him a priest and not the converse. At bottom there is therefore a specific and lasting priesthood.