Possession, Demoniacal And Other

by T K Oesterreich

  In addition to the collected, devout, and mutually consistent accounts given by the tadibes of these circumstances one thing fills me with particular conviction, that is the fact that the sorcerer often admits either that he cannot call up the tadebstio or cannot constrain him to give a reasonable reply, and this even in cases where he might with ease have fabricated some acceptable augury. It gave me pleasure to put the honesty of the tadibes to the proof in this way.1

  Unfortunately Bastian’s information concerning the Buriat shamans is entirely lacking in precision, which is the more regrettable since as one of the few ethnologists possessed of a deep interest in and knowledge of psychology he was highly qualified to furnish detailed psychological observations. He relates:

  … During the sacrificial ceremonies there is an outburst of ecstasy. The shaman’s soul fares forth to unite with the spirits of the dead and receive from them in the kingdom of shadows the desired instruction. The body which all this time lies on the ground as if deprived of soul, is insensible to pain and performs during the absence of consciousness all those singular tricks which serve in the people’s eyes as attestations of a true prophet: the shaman leaps into the fire with impunity, grasps a red-hot iron in his hands … and draws hot knives over his tongue until the hut is filled with the smell of burnt flesh, etc. 1

  From this description it results at least that the shamans fall into “esctasy,” into a “second”or somnambulistic state. Bastian’s expression concerning the “absence of consciousness”is naturally false.

  It may be assumed that the shamans, owing to the dangers to health consequent on their manner of life, must become nervously deranged. The majority of investigators have so completely taken for granted the essential nature of Shamanism as to pay no attention to the general psychic state of the shamans. It is therefore of the utmost value that the traveller Pallas has given on this point information showing that the shamans are often sensitive to an extreme degree.

  It should be noted as highly remarkable that many Samoyedes, particularly the sorcerers, show a peculiar form of timidity which seems to be caused in part by the excessive tension and excitability of fever, the action of the northerly climate, their mode of life, and an imagination warped by superstition. I know from reliable accounts that similarly excitable people are found amongst the Tunguses and inhabitants of Kamchatka. Major Islenief has assured me that it was the same amongst the Yakuts and I have observed it myself, although to a lesser degree, amongst the Buriats and the Tatars of the Ienissei. An unexpected touch on the side, for instance, or any other sensitive spot, a call, an unforeseen whistle or any other sudden manifestation of a startling nature puts these people beside themselves and almost into a frenzy. Amongst the Samoyedes and Yakuts who seem to manifest this excitability in the highest degree (since the whole of the former people will show in emergencies a pusillanimity quite beyond the normal) this frenzy goes so far that without knowing what they are doing they seize the first axe, knife or weapon which comes to hand and seek, if they are not restrained by force and all lethal weapons removed from their reach, to wound or kill whoever is the cause of their fright or happens to be near. When they cannot work off their rage in this way they gesticulate, shout, roll upon the ground and behave absolutely like raving madmen. In such cases the Samoyedes have an infallible means of bringing people to themselves: they set fire to a piece of reindeer skin or a tuft of its hair and make the patient inhale the smoke; the latter immediately falls into a sort of languor and sleep which often lasts for twenty-four hours, after which he recovers the full use of his senses. This is a remedy which reveals still more clearly the source of the ill.1

  In considering this timidity due regard must be had for the more acute affectivity of primitive peoples. Pallas’ description recalls that which the cousins Sarasin give of the Veddas, both peoples showing a similar character—timid and easily provoked. It must, however, be remembered that the Veddas are isolated pigmy primitives of the lowest degree of civilization, whereas the peoples explored by Pallas are on an essentially higher plane. In any case one thing is clear—that the shamans are much more excitable than the rest of the population. In an episode cited by Pallas in the same place a young Samoyede sorcerer went almost raving mad because a black glove had been put on his hand, a case which gives a glimpse of mental states so morbid, so acutely susceptible to illusion, that they can only with difficulty be paralleled. Observe, moreover, the particularly unreasoning character of the terror. The sight of the gloved hand arouses in the shaman the fear that it is a bear’s paw, without it occurring to him in the least that this hand is at the disposal of his will and that moreover, a single paw not connected with a whole bear can offer no danger. The general state of the shaman is so precarious and emotionally excitable that he almost loses sight of reality.

  Bastian’s account of the Buriat shamans is also perfectly consistent with the idea that it is highly nervous individuals—men or women—who are automatically regarded as called to the profession of shaman, and that the whole training which they have thereupon to undergo—it lasts for nine years—leads to the enhancement of their neurotic condition.

  In order to attain to the condition of shaman it is necessary to have the right disposition of mind which is called Ug garbul. The signs of such candidature are considered to be: frequent faintingfits, excitable and sensitive disposition, taciturnity, moroseness, love of solitude and other symptoms of a susceptible nervous system. When these signs appear in a child the parents apply to the chief shamans, men or women (Buge-Udagan), who forthwith seek to propitiate the spirits by sacrifices and prayer. 1

  As a rule the ability to become a shaman is hereditary in certain families, and this must be so since magic practices can only achieve success by the help of deceased ancestors. 2

  Mikhaïlowsky adds the following to the accounts of other travellers:

  It is not everyone who can become a shaman. Individuals are designated for it either, as amongst the peoples of Siberia, by heredity, or else by reason of a particular disposition which manifests itself in a child or young man chosen by the gods for their service. Amongst the Transbaikalian Tunguses the man who wishes to become a shaman explains that such and such a deceased shaman has come to him in a dream and commanded him to be his successor. Before becoming a shaman, moreover, the candidate shows himself “weakly, as if dazed, and nervous.” According to the accounts of the Tunguses of Turukhansk the man destined to become a sorcerer sees in a dream the devil “Khargi”executing shamanistic practices.… The Yakut shamans and shamankas (a degenerate form of shaman) do not hold their magic gifts by heredity although it is the tradition that when a conjuror of spirits appears the honour remains in the family. They are predestined to serve the spirits whether they will or no. “Emekhet,” the guardian spirit of the dead shaman, seeks to enter into one of the deceased’s relations. He who is to become a shaman begins to rage like a raving madman. He suddenly utters incoherent words, falls unconscious, runs through the forests, lives on the bark of trees, throws himself into fire and water, lays hold on weapons and wounds himself, in such wise that his family is obliged to keep watch on him. By these signs it is recognized that he will become a shaman. An old shaman is then summoned to whom has been entrusted knowledge of the dwelling-places of such spirits as live in the air and under the earth. He teaches his pupil the various kinds of spirits and how they are invoked. Amongst the Yakuts the consecration of a shaman is accompanied by certain ceremonies: the old shaman leads his pupil up a high mountain or into the open fields, clothes him in shaman’s robes, provides him with the tambourine and drumstick, places on his right nine pure youths, on his left nine pure maidens, then gives him his own robe and placing himself behind the new shaman makes him repeat certain words. Before all else he commands that the candidate abjure God and all that is dear to him inasmuch as he promises to devote his whole life to the demon who will fulfil his requests. Then the old shaman tells where the various demons live, which sicknes
ses they cause and how they may be propitiated. Finally, the new shaman slays the animal destined for sacrifice, his clothing is sprinkled with the blood and the flesh is eaten by the spectators. 3

  It is even said that amongst the Tunguses the future shamans are chosen before they are two years old. The criterion is inter alia convulsions.1 At the beginning of its third year the child is taken by an old shaman.

  According to the accounts of the natives to which Radloff refers in his description of Shamanism in the Altaï, men become shamans purely and simply by a sort of inspiration, without receiving any kind of instruction.

  The aptitude for Shamanism and its lore is hereditary and handed down from father to son, also in special but rare cases from father to daughter. The future shaman receives no preliminary instruction or teaching from his father, and does not prepare himself for the profession; the shamanistic power falls upon him suddenly, as a sickness grips the whole man. The individual destined by the power of the ancestors to become a shaman suddenly feels in his limbs a languor and lassitude which manifest themselves in violent trembling. He is seized with violent and unnatural yawning, feels a heavy weight upon his chest, is suddenly moved to utter inarticulate cries,-is shaken by feverish shiverings, his eyes roll rapidly, he dashes forward and whirls round like one possessed until he collapses covered in sweat and rolls on the ground a prey to epileptic convulsions. His limbs are numbed, he seizes everything he can lay hands on to swallow it involuntarily.… After a little while what he has swallowed comes out again dry and unchanged.… All these sufferings grow continuously worse until the individual thus tormented at length seizes the drum and begins to shamanize. Then and then only is nature appeased, the power of the ancestors has passed into him and he can now do no other, he must shamanize. If the man designed to be a shaman opposes the will of the predecessors and refuses to shamanize, he exposes himself to terrible afflictions which either end in the victim losing all his mental powers and becoming imbecile and dull or else going raving mad and generally after a short time doing himself an injury or dying in a fit.2

  If it is true that the shamans, when they have become so by inspiration, receive no other instruction, this arises simply from the fact that as descendants of shamans they are fully instructed from youth up. It would otherwise be impossible for them duly to accomplish the shamanistic functions.

  According to Mikhaïowsky also it is neuropathic persons, pathological from infancy, who become shamans, undergoing a preparation of several years which constitutes a regular neuropathic training. Here are some details concerning the Buriat shamans:

  The dead ancestors who were shamans customarily choose amongst their living descendants a boy who shall inherit their power. This child is recognized by several signs: he is often pensive, a lover of solitude, he has prophetic visions and is occasionally subject to fits during which he remains conscious. The Buriats believe that the child’s soul is then amongst the spirits who teach him.… If he is to become a white shaman he goes to the abode of the spirits of the west, a black shaman to the spirits of the east. In the palaces of the gods the soul learns under the guidance of the dead shamans all the secrets of the shamanistic art; it impresses upon its memory the names of the gods, their abode, the forms with which they should be worshipped and the names of the spirits subject to the great gods. After undergoing trials the spirit returns to the body. Every year the mental tendencies are accentuated; the young man begins to have fits of ecstasy, dreams and swoons become more frequent. He sees spirits, leads a restless life, goes from village to village and tries to shamanize. In solitude he gives himself up whole-heartedly to shamanistic practices in no matter what place, forest or hillside, beside a blazing fire. He invokes the gods in a strange voice, shamanizes, and often falls senseless. His friends follow him at a certain distance and watch him to see that he takes no harm.

  So long as the future mediator between gods and men is fitting himself for his impending duties, his parents or relatives apply to an experienced shaman to ask help for him, they call upon the gods and bring them offerings, imploring that their son or kinsman may pass safely through the trials. If the future shaman belongs to a poor family the community contributes towards supplying animals for the sacrifice and the objects necessary for the rites. The preparation lasts for several years, its length depending on the young man’s aptitudes. As a general rule no one becomes a shaman before the age of twenty years.1

  Wrangel, otherwise so reliable, surprises us by advancing an entirely individualistic conception of the shamans.

  What the shamans and their partisans believe and practise is not something invented by a man and handed on to other men; it springs up in the breast of each individual through the impression of the surrounding objects. As these surroundings are alike all over the Siberian deserts, as their half-wild dwellers stand only on the threshold of enlightenment, so also are these impressions more or less general and the same for everyone. Each man sees and feels for himself; but without any communication there prevails a certain resemblance amongst the fruits of the imagination, and the personal belief of each becomes the common belief of the people. It is, in my opinion, just because such a belief is, so to speak, the creation of every individual and therefore particular and dear to him that they have endured up to the present and will continue to endure so long as these children of nature rule over the tundras, forests and gulfs, so long as the same setting continues to produce upon them the same impressions.2

  It must be said that this theory is completely untenable. The uniformity of shamanistic states cannot in any way be explained by the homogeneous character of nature in Siberia; it arises from the impression which the shamans make on their fellows. Even if the young shaman-to-be received no instruction of any kind from an old shaman and neglected-all special education he nevertheless knows the nature of the shamanistic states, he sees shamans before him and hears them speak. Wrangel has not had sufficient regard for these facts, which are nevertheless in themselves entirely sufficient to explain the typical resemblance amongst the shamans. The impression of nature matters little if at all. It may be true that the consecration of the shamans brings no new metaphysical knowledge to the initiates, but it would certainly not be possible if there were not some connection between the shamans, and according to Wrangel’s own statement the novices learn the exorcism of spirits from the older shamans! The disciples learn from them how to fall into the “ecstatic”state, and that is certainly something more than “a mere ceremony touching the outer man.”

  The social importance of the shamans is extremely great. They combine in their person the priest, the sorcerer, and the physician, and are everywhere summoned when a misfortune is to be averted, either from an individual or from the whole population.

  The shamans are—and this is consistent with their mysterious powers—intimately connected with the life and customs of the Siberian natives which are concerned with the most important interests of a race on a low level of development. In the simple life of the peoples of Northern Asia the shaman plays a prominent part; with few exceptions he occupies amongst his compatriots a situation of exceptional importance. Only amongst the Tshuktsh the shamans, according to Litke, are not honoured, and their function is restricted to curing the sick and performing conjuring-tricks. The Yakuts have absolute faith in their sorcerers, whose mysterious operations performed in circumstances of a highly exciting nature throw the half-savage people into a state of terror. It is not surprising that they should be afraid of the shamans. But fear outweighs respect, and the Yakuts are persuaded that their shamans, possessed by spirits, do not die by the will of the gods and are unworthy of the angel of death which is sent to them. They slay one another mutually by the sending of their demons.

  The Tunguses whose country adjoins that of the Yakuts have still, as in Wrangel’s time and in spite of the growing influence of Christianity, great confidence in their shamans and these latter assist at the burial of Christian Tunguses. The Ostiaks show gre
at respect towards their doctors and diviners. In Southern Siberia the Buriats honour their shamans; the white shamans in particular are generally respected and beloved, the black shamans and shamankas are unloved, but greatly feared. Nevertheless, according to certain authors, a doctor loses the regard in which he is held if the patient whom he is attending happens to die.

  The respect and fear felt towards the shamans must also necessarily be manifested by outward signs: gifts of honour fall to their lot, they perform the most important functions and receive from their fearful compatriots handsome material rewards for the benefits which they are supposed to confer. In the feasts of the Yakuts the shamans take the highest rank, even a prince kneeling before an Oyun on such occasions and receiving from his hands a cup of kumiss. Nevertheless the Yakut shamans have no particular privileges in everyday life and are in no way distinguished from their compatriots.1

  Such is apparently the general picture of north Asiatic Shamanism from the psychological point of view. Is it, or is it not, a state of possession?

  Strangely enough, we must unhesitatingly answer in the negative. The original Shamanism does not in any way consist, at least generally speaking, in possession, but rather in mere visual phenomena. The shamans of northern Asia—and also of northern Russia-in-Europe in so far as shamans have been known to exist there—do not aspire to states analogous to possession, but to visions: in the so-called ecstasy they desire to see the spirits and hear them speak. Contact with the spirit-world is not achieved by these peoples as amongst the Bataks, where the spirits descend on chosen persons and speak to the assembled hearers by their mouths, but by “states of trance”in which they appear to the shamans and impart to them communications which these latter announce to their compatriots on their return from the dream-like state to the waking one.