IN Tim tribal world as in the industralised Western one, tensions and conflicts lead to the expression of aggression in many different, culturally controlled forms. Warfare, feud, and litigation are as much part and parcel of social life in small-scale tribal communities as they are in our own world. These exotic cultures, however, also display a wide range of mystical modes of attack, of non-physical aggression strategies which we have now largely discarded or relegated to the realm of morbid psychology. This communication deals with two such forms of mystical attack: spirit possession and witchcraft (or sorcery). As in our own pre-scientific tradition, in tribal cultures malevolent spirits and malice-ridden witches loom large in the aetiology of illness and misfortune, and are invoked to explain a range of afflictions which are by no means limited solely to psychosomatic maladies. Most people, I think, are well aware that a nexus of social conflict provides the typical setting in which accusations of witchcraft flourish. One has only to recall that celebrated case in our own history concerning the witches of Salem which has been so effectively dramatised by Arthur Miller in his play, The Crucible, with its subtle and sociologically apt allusions to the McCarthy anti-communist witch-hunts in America. That spirit-possession thrives in a similar, but not identical, tension-laden milieu is perhaps not so immediately obvious. Nevertheless, one of the best-established traditional procedures in the study of this phenomenon is that which stresses the conflict-torn personality of the spirit- possessed priest or shaman, who in one form or another, figures in all possession cults. Here the shaman who, in his own cultural setting, is believed to be able to control spirits and to apply them in divination and the treatment of the sick, is represented as a severely disturbed neurotic or psychotic. This view has a long tradition in Anthropology and has also been enthusiastically endorsed by a number of psychiatrists. Thus amongst recent writers, Devereux (1), in a spirited exposition of this approach rhetorically asks 'How could anyone's symptoms be more florid than those of the budding Siberian shaman?', and more recently Silverman (2), has produced a closely argued assimilation of the shaman's personality to that of the acute schizophrenic. Whatever the actual mental state of the shaman (of which more will be said later), this approach to the problem of spirit-possession is as one-sided as it is ethnocentric and even smacks a little of professional jealousy. It is like discussing Christianity in terms of psychotic symptoms in priests, or perhaps more aptly, of evaluating the whole of psychoanalysis in terms of the psychotic experiences of some analysts. Moreover, it is surely rather bizarre to discuss mental health problems exclusively in terms of the incidence of syndromes in the healers rather than in the patients. After
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