Among the prominent images in the
Upanishads is that of the body as a locus for external forces. Although the early
Upanishads are best known for their discussions of interior topography, they
also display a sure knowledge of and deep concern for the physical body. Their
knowledge of organs and other aspects of human physiology is derived largely
from the antecedent literature, in most cases indicating that this knowledge
served purposes other than health. Principally, the purpose was to describe
animals fit for sacrifice. This vision is modified in the Yoga, Saiva, and
other, later sub genres Upanishads, when interest in the vedic
sacrifices had begun to wane, to one in which the body is seen to encase
‘channels’ that circulate within the body and cakras.
Thus, the tantric visions, the body was
viewed as transmutable. And though this is most evident in the later
Upanishads, the early ones foreshadow them in this regard. In the waking state,
the "self" (Atman) is said to abide in the heart, but in deep sleep
and dream it wanders in the ‘nadis’ (BA C 2.1.17).
Sometimes it exits the body entirely, leaving the ‘pranas’ in charge At death,
according to the later Upanishads, it leaves the body via the central upwardly
flowing channel (Yogasikha Upanishad 6.5, etc.
The chief function of the body, then, is
to house the life force (jiva) and according to some
Upanishads, the atman. Brahma, the Upanishads state, dwells in the the space in ill heart. The Kapha
(4.6 says that the firstborn of Brahma and Aditya enter and abide there, while
many later Upanishads list a number of possible deities who assume residence in
this secret place. Thus, the Indic body was ripe for possession.
Here, the subjectivity of emotion, both
as experienced and evaluated states, merges with the (presumed) objectivity of
spirit deities, or entities and notions with an even greater degree of
abstraction. tates in South Asia calls into question
the very notion of personal identity. Thus, although the Weltanschauung
officially registered by brahmanical and other South
Asian orthodoxies idealizes an asceticism that in its public presentation takes
a dim view of corporality.
Where in yoga physical exercises are not ascetic mortifications but are
conceived of as 'perfections' (siddhi), what is sought after is 'altered
states,' but not 'of consciousness' (as in contemporary Western adaptations),
but of the body. (See F. D. Goodman, Where Spirits Ride the Wind: Trance
Journeys and Other Ecstatic Experiences: Indiana University Press, 1990, who
makes a strong case for a positive correlation between physical posture, spirit
or deity possession, and states of altered consciousness).
This can also be said of possession,
which is necessarily an altered bodily state, regardless of whether the
possession is deemed positive or negative. What possession states reveal is an
embodiment dominated by intentionality, emotion, desire, aversion, physical
need, subtle essences, a tendency to action, and cyclical or ritual modes of
functioning. This paradigm is different from the description in Bhagavad Gita
13. 1-6, in which the self as body is said to be composed of the five mahabhutas or great elements ( earth, water, fire, air,
space), ego, reason, the unmanifest (avyakta), the
ten senses and the mind, the five sensory fields, desire, aversion, happiness
and suffering, the embodied whole, intelligence, and steadfastness. The former
reveals a body constructed of abstractions closer to the early and middle vedic model than to the model presented in Sarpkhya and most of the Upanishads.
What, then, is the body possessed? The
body possessed is not symbolic of something else, nor is it, in itself, a
message to be communicated to a culturally conditioned public, a reinforcement
of a set of beliefs. And the anthropological theory that communication is the
very essence of being, action, and ritual, is nullified. For personality was
never far removed from visions of the body. In classical India personality was
described in different terms from those familiar to the modern world, with very
different abstractions and psychological influences. Whereas modern societies
express personality as the sum of one's experiences, thoughts, emotions,
inhibitions, moments of freedom, and so on, in India of old the complexity was
expressed differently.
One of the vehicle for
understanding personality in classical India was the grid of physicality
presented in the Samkhya philosophy, with the senses and sense organs evolving
in a linear fashion from primordial materiality (prakrti),
an abstraction absent in Western thought. In this way, the structure of the
body and its perceptual equipment reached deeply and directly into the nature
of reality itself. Thus, fundamental changes in the surface levels of
individuality resonated deeply into the shared level of primordiality, creating
a channel by which penetration of external forces could be felt through the
entire system. This is coeval with the remnants of an earlier more vedic system (known in ancient Greece also), in which
personality included cosmological trace elements that entered the individual
from outside. The individual was, conceived of as porous, allowing trace mater
from Brahma, the Adityas, and other beings from devas
to raksasas to enter. Thus, categories of invasive bhutas or grahas co-responded to
categories of sattvas that served as the foundations
of personality.
Possession, regardless of the term used
for it, was often understood. Sanskrit (and other Indic) texts as a
modification of personality, rather than as a psychological aberration for
which the individual must necessarily held accountable. "Positive"
possession was esteemed, if somewhat feared and those subject to it were most
often productive members of their communities. By contrast,
"negative" possession befell individuals regarded unstable; indeed,
their possession was the mark of their instability. In most cases, however,
negative possession was usually regarded as treatable. The practice of mental
health care in India beginning in the ancient period has regarded the possessed
individual as a victim, rather than a perpetrator, as is the case with exorcism
in Christianity.
Even if the treatments were sometimes
heavy-handed, ayurvedic texts were invariably designed to exorcise the bhuta or graha as well as
rebalance the individual's humors or doshas. As such, it has not and cannot
have been completely censored by the agents of brahmanical
prudery; it is available in the interstices and thus has been addressed less
graphically by the classical philosophers, poets, and mystics, to whom
organization, boundaries, and control have been paramount, than by poets,
indigenous medical authors, and etl1nographers, to whom physical symptoms and
gestures were often more accessible.
Possession, then, whether positive or
negative, is a state of tension, of lived irony, in which dilemmas are resolved
(for better or worse) because the volition of the dominant, socially hegemonic
voice is reduced to the point of disappearance as another authority is
expressed through the body. In possession, the self-interest inherent in
individual agency is overcome, replaced with a force that is, improbably, more
believable and trustworthy than that usually expressed by the individual. Thus,
possession expresses what Durkheim regarded as the heterogeneity of the sacred
and the profane: the divine authority of the body and the bodily authority of
the divine.
This, arguably, is what Krishna did when
he presented to Arjuna an alternative to his narrative of himself. Arjuna had
locked in a notion of himself through a selective narrative that refused to
recognize his multivocality. In the end, though Arjuna capitulated, he shied
away from the vision of finality, the visvarupa-darsana,
that Krishna presented to him in the eleventh chapter of the Gita.
The individual was rarely considered the
definitive human unit, at least in Hindu India, generally relinquishing that
role to the family or caste. Because the social boundaries of individual were
intrinsically permeable, the notion of possession, of not subsisting or acting
alone, was easily realized. It is echoed in China as well as seen on Daoist
meditation practices.
Those whose livelihood depends on
individual achievement and self-sufficiency, find it difficult to comprehend
this shadowy frontiers of individual in Asia and its cultural acknowledgement
of deity and spirit possession. The profusion of gods and scriptures is marked
by a polycentric religious life, social structure, and family structure. Thus,
by adhering to culturally and academically bounded assumptions of the
singularity and inviolability of the individual, the phenomenon of possession
has been analyzed as psychological illness, as sociological role-playing or
status seeking, as expressions of cosmological beliefs, willful manifestation
of good or evil, or as an aspect of cultural performance: as anything, in fact,
except a phenomena that defy both the solid boundaries of the individual
assumed by the academic trade. And a religious experience such as possession
which cannot be rationally understood, gets reduced to 'symbols,' 'projections'
or illusions.
Most scholarship has limited possession
to intrusive and disintegrative states, or else to oracular possession
expressed in festival or other ritual contexts. However, possession has more
dimensions in India, for example, the Buddhist concept of titmabhava-parigraha,
a person "completely gripped by the experience of the self," or
devotional possession, or, a person "possessed by the cycle of
rebirth." It would be a mistake to disregard these examples for they were
intended literally. For Asvatthaman to be possessed
by rage for example, meant that he was possessed by Siva, not just by the power
of Siva. Also Marukkavacakar's possession, his
god-intoxication, has no reference to third parties. It is solely a
manifestation of his communion with Siva, which is an end in itself. In India
thus possession was a state of mind characterized by intensity, emotional
excitement, and desire, and that the perceived distinction between these states
and those more easily labeled possession by ethnographers and others is a
matter of degree rather than kind.
One can also distinguish between
‘gradualist’ school that is sastraic, analytical, and
process-oriented, while the ‘sudden’ school creates release through intense
emotional engagement. The former bears the ritualist into a state of
ontological hybridity through a series of identifications, while the latter
accomplishes the same through a wholesale submersion into an idealized form of
a deity (such as Kan or Hanuman), a mood (love, ferocity, quiescence, etc., or
an environment. Brahmanical hybridity may be thought of as a tapestry, a
planned and executed complex pattern woven on a single uniform backing. In this
particular tapestry each essence, deity, spirit, or other entity occupies a
discrete space on or within the body, empowering and transfiguring it. This
usually requires the complementary observance of brahmanical
rites of purification. Compared to ‘sudden’ school strategies, it inculcates
control by keeping the consciousness and intentionality of the ritualist intact
and dominant. It is neither festival nor oracular and may be very private. Yet
it is a metamorphosis, but it cannot be called shape-shifting. In the sudden
school, the hybridity is more deeply rooted, as two beings or essences coexist,
with one supplanting another in an internal and idiosyncratic scale of identity
markers. Unlike in gradualist possession, the intentionality and decision
making capabilities of the agent are ambiguous and often absent. In brahmanical possession, the process of metamorphosis
transforms categories of bodily integrity by breaking them down and rebuilding
them analytically. The result is a hybrid being seamlessly constituted out of a
collocation of compatible entities or notions. This is in contrast to non-brahmanical possession, in which contradictory or
incompatible beings, entities, notions, or categories may exist.
The orthodox impulse, which does not
have the marks of a conspiracy has been to control this phenomenon through
benign neglect, by ignoring or avoiding it in formal discourse, by tacitly
declaring it irrelevant, though possession is acknowledged or discussed in more
than 170 Sanskrit texts. This is not a large number, however, considering the
vast number of texts in Sanskrit.
Nyasa, the brahmanical
practice of possession, has a restricted domain because of its locus within
rarefied Sanskritic culture. But in the larger cultural domain, it is closely
juxtaposed with small seances or festivals in which oracular possession might
occur. The evidence for this is both textual and ethnographic.
The ideologies, and to a lesser extent
the processes, of gradual and sudden possession are dialogical: less privileged
non elite nonprofessionals poach on the discourse of privileged elite
professionals by adopting their symbols and images, thus demarcating a realm of
social and political safety for their experience, while the elites, the
priesthoods, extend their domain by creating discourse mechanisms through which
they domesticate popular practice. As shown in culture after culture, elite
participation in popular practice contributes to this negotiation between
professionals and nonprofessionals, highly educated elites and less educated
subalterns. As to what extent we can equate possession as discourse with
possession as event, the link is so proximate that it is nearly
indistinguishable The discourse of possession in India is not just verbal or
linguistic but performative as well. The issue of discourse is closely tied in
with the nature of individuality and the individual in South Asia and whether
possession can contribute to a greater understanding or unveiling of that
nature.
Thus possession has always had an
intriguing subversiveness that seeks to turn the mysteries of asymmetry and
randomness to one's advantage. Possession is both self-affirming and
transformative. As part of a socially sanctioned religious system, it affirms
the social self while eclipsing the spiritually isolated self. The South Asian
experience indicates that the disjunctions, isolations, or alienations that
typify our lives emanate from collusions of moral and natural order, act and
actor, person and collectivity. In this disjunctive and disjointed world,
possession concentrates essences, entities, actors, and agents while bringing
the above-mentioned polarities together experientially. The mutual impact of
discourse and event forces us to acknowledge that we become more ourselves when
we recognize that we are, in fact, less ourselves. This is the paradox of both
oracular possession and the Indic concept of selfhood, stripped of its
institutional veneer of brahman-atman ideology.
Both classical texts and modern
ethnographies suggest that possession was common as a way of thinking in Indian
culture and performance. It is perhaps no accident that possession, so
noticeable in the Vedas and epics but sporadic in first-millennium canonical
literature, surfaced widely in the realm of actual human experience, as the
ethnographic literature attests. The local traditions, often derided by the
educated elite in both India and the West for their non vedic
practices, are very possibly the most "vedic"
of all Indian traditions. This may be said as well for the North Indian bhakti
traditions, which are often local traditions repositioned in brahmanical settings. This reflects a process that might be
called "vernacularization," in which elite
traditions reach into local practice to keep themselves afloat. This would
constitute the obverse of the oft-discussed "Sanskritization." Just
as Sanskritization conferred prestige and legitimacy on local practices and
traditions, vernacularization legitimated the
Sanskritic enterprise by localizing it, which is to say by injecting elements
of local culture into it.
The vedic
people would probably be more at home with anyone of a number of devotional and
ecstatic sects that arose in India than with the philosophically rigorous and
repressive orthodoxies that were established in their name. These devotional
and ecstatic sects find common ground with the Vedas in their appeal to the viability,
safety, and sanctity of individual experience; what they subvert is the
institutional authority of the Vedas. But as suggested, possession in South
Asia is not just one thing. Amid this shifting ground, as an introduction we
can assert the following.
Whatever may have been the origins of possession in India-it would be fruitless
and incorrect to posit its origin in a single event, locality, or religious
complex-it has become perhaps the region's most widespread form of spiritual
expression, with a vibrant presence in semipublic divinatory practice and
public festival.
Possession is sharply divided between
positive oracular possession and negative disease-producing possession. The two
have occasionally converged, as literary and ethnographic evidence over several
millennia amply testifies.
Both positive and negative possession
are commonly believed to have a moral source. In the case of negative
possession, the "mistake" might occur unwittingly. Negative
possession is attributed to pollution, contact with evil or degraded people, or
being unprotected while in terrifying environments (such as burning grounds or
deep jungle). More generally, it is believed that women and children, who are
regarded as weaker than men, are more susceptible to possession. Positive
possession, by contrast, may be attributed to virtuous action (including action
from past births), successful devotional practice, properly performed ritual,
or divine grace.
Possession cannot be reduced to a single
descriptive prototype, but is a complex phenomenon characterized by terms that
convey broad semantic possibilities. These can be distinguished through close
linguistic study. Possession is always to some extent disruptive and almost
always in some sense violent. The disruptiveness occurs in every form of
possession, from ecstatic initiatory possession to oracular possession to
disease-producing possession. The violence is often expressed as rage (raudra). On occasion, however, possession can be peaceful
(Santa).
Acceptance of spirits and deities
has always been widespread in South Asia , as it has been in most societies in
which the dominant scientific paradigm(s) differ from the one developed and
accepted in the West since the Renaissance hence, the stance of Western
scholarship toward the subject. Thus, the South Asian literary and
psychological universe has always been inhabited by innumerable spirits and
deities. In spite of occasional orthodox efforts to excise possession from
mainstream discourse, it is inevitable that a belief so widespread would find
its way into Sanskrit texts.
Possession has a strong horizontal and
vertical presence in Indian society. Although it has a vigorous presence in
women's religion, it is by no means limited to women or to members of any
particular class or caste, linguistic grouping, or economic stratum.
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