Sat, 12 December 2015
Brent Crane
The Phnom Penh Post
Buddhism scholars have long debated how to make
sense of supposed non-Buddhist spirit worship. One American scholar
thinks he has the killer solution
The title sounds like the name of an ’80s metal
band: Deathpower. But US academic Erik Davis’s first book has
nothing to do with over-distorted guitars or long-haired
showmen.
Drawing from three years of field research in the
Kingdom, Deathpower: Imagining Religion in Contemporary
Cambodia, published earlier this month by Columbia University
Press, expounds on Cambodian ritual dealings with souls beyond the
grave – how individuals, mostly monks, interact with and interpret
the spirit world and how communities respond to those
interpretations.
Davis defines his neologism deathpower as “the
social power that accrues to people who care for the
dead”.
But in his study of how holy men and others
communicate with the deceased, Davis discovered implications that
go beyond Cambodia. In his take on it, the mediums’ deathpower
redirected common understandings of Buddhism
itself.
It has long been the prevailing academic view that
folk beliefs within Theravada Buddhist practices throughout
Southeast Asia, such as spirit worship, were “accretions” or
additions to “real” Buddhism, based on a strict adherence to
original Pali scripture.
“Scholars have tended to have a stereotyped
view of what Buddhism is for quite a long time,” said the author
over Skype from Minnesota, where he teaches about Buddhism at
Macalester College.
Such scholars have come up with various theoretical
ways to separate such beliefs from a purer strain of Buddhism.
In Deathpower, Davis challenges those
efforts.
“Many people who are Buddhists believe in
spirits… In fact, it seems like one of the major things that monks
are there to do: to manipulate and deal with the spirit world,” he
said.
“If people tell us when we encounter them in
Cambodia that they are Buddhist and what they are doing is
Buddhist, then why are we saying they’re non-Buddhist?”
Deathpower grew out of a PhD dissertation with
the University of Chicago that Davis researched from 2006 to 2009
in Cambodia.
For three years not a day went by that he did not
contemplate death. Most of his research took place in crematoriums
around Phnom Penh, though he did some secondary snooping in the
provinces as well.
Davis said he estimated he had been to more than 150
funerals. In the crematoriums, Davis “hung out” with
the achaar, “the men in white robes who do most of the
funerary arrangements and work with the families”.
Dressed in a white short-sleeved shirt with black
pants and nearly fluent in Khmer, Davis was initially suspected by
the white-robed undertakers of being a Mormon missionary. But
eventually, after repeated trips, the achaar were convinced that
Davis was who he said he was: a blonde, ear-pierced eccentric from
middle America interested in how Cambodians die.
Cambophiles and Buddhism scholars alike have
praised Deathpower. Renowned historian David Chandler deemed
it “very pleasing” and a “reader’s feast”, Anne Hansen, a Buddhist
Studies Professor at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, went so
far as to call the 320-page book “the most perceptive, meticulous,
informative, and important study of contemporary Cambodian Buddhism
to date”.
Part of the attraction of Davis’s new work, said
Hansen, was that it pushed the boundaries of Buddhist studies in a
fresh, somewhat controversial direction.
“Davis’s book is ‘provocative’ theoretically in
regard to some of the ways he talks about the intertwining of
Buddhist and non-Buddhist aspects of Khmer religious life. This has
long been a problem for scholars – how to talk about what is and
isn’t ‘Buddhism’,” she said.
Davis “doesn’t try to explain away the presence of
spirits, ghosts and supernatural operations in Southeast Asian
religion”, said Hansen. Rather, he attempts to prove “that the
control of spirits and malevolent powers is part of what creates
the moral power of Buddhism in Cambodia,” she said.
For Davis, the spirits, long treated as distinct
from proper Buddhism, empower rather than weaken the religion in
Southeast Asia. Indeed, they are inseparable from
it.
But deathpower was not the sole possession of monks,
said Davis. Magicians and sorcerers claimed to hold sway over the
dead. Laymen too, through an notorious folk practice involving
grilling a fresh foetus known as a kong krau, could
acquire the power.
As the horror story goes, to make their foetus
amulet, men must impregnate a spouse and in the third trimester
forcibly cut out the unborn child, roast it over a fire and wear it
around his neck. The eviscerated spouse would usually die, said
Davis.
“The person who owns the amulet will feed the amulet
and take care of it like a son. In return, the amulet will give
them special knowledge and warnings about dangers coming,” said the
author, who encountered one man during his research said to possess
a kong krau. People would also pay the possessor of the amulet to
use its services.
“It would be a socially illegitimate but efficacious
form of deathpower,” he said, though added that it was an uncommon
practice.
“It’s not like everybody’s walking around doing
this.”Davis said that he was already working on a second, equally
grim book.
The work, How To Do Things With Dead
People, will be a “comparative study of political rituals
dealing with the dead …between Auschwitz, Choeung Ek and a Native
American genocide case.”
Yet despite so much gloom and doom, Davis said that
he did not struggle emotionally with the weight of his subject
matter – at least not any more.
“I’ve been studying Buddhism for 25 years,” he said
happily. “Expecting death and suffering has its
rewards.”