Islam, Migration and Jinn: Spiritual Medicine in Muslim Health Management 9783030612467, 9783030612474

Citation preview

THE MODERN MUSLIM WORLD

Islam, Migration and Jinn Spiritual Medicine in Muslim Health Management Edited by Annabelle Böttcher Birgit Krawietz

The Modern Muslim World

Series Editor Dietrich Jung Centre for Contemporary Middle East Studies University of Southern Denmark Odense, Denmark

The modern Muslim world is an integral part of global society. In transcending the confines of area studies, this series encompasses scholarly work on political, economic, and cultural issues in modern Muslim history, taking a global perspective. Focusing on the period from the early nineteenth century to the present, it combines studies of Muslim majority regions, such as the Middle East and in Africa and Asia, with the analysis of Muslim minority communities in Europe and the Americas. Emphasizing the global connectedness of Muslims, the series seeks to promote and encourage the understanding of contemporary Muslim life in a comparative perspective and as an inseparable part of modern globality.

More information about this series at http://www.palgrave.com/gp/series/14429

Annabelle Böttcher · Birgit Krawietz Editors

Islam, Migration and Jinn Spiritual Medicine in Muslim Health Management

Editors Annabelle Böttcher Syddansk Universitet Center for Modern Middle East and Muslim Studies Odense, Denmark

Birgit Krawietz Institut für Islamwissenschaft Freie Universität Berlin Berlin, Germany

The Modern Muslim World ISBN 978-3-030-61246-7 ISBN 978-3-030-61247-4 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. Cover illustration: © Daniel Schoenen/Alamy Stock Foto This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland

Contents

1

Introduction Annabelle Böttcher and Birgit Krawietz

2

Demonic Beings: The Friends and Foes of Humans Tobias Nünlist

3

Tipping the Scales Toward an Islamic Spiritual Medicine: Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya on Jinn and Epilepsy Felix Wessel

4

5

6

1

17

45

The Physical Reality of Jinn Possession According to Commentaries on the Quran (2:275) Mudhi al-Shimmari

65

Battered Love in Contemporary Syria: Shi‘i Spiritual Healing with Abu Ahmad Edith Szanto

77

Ruqya and the Olive Branch: A Bricoleur Healer Between Catalonia and Morocco Josep Lluís Mateo Dieste

99

v

vi

7

8

9

10

11

CONTENTS

Healing, Agency, and Life Crisis Among British Pakistani Ruqya Patients Andreas Gadeberg Nielsen

121

Contextualising Female Jinn Possession in Sexual Trauma Birte Spreckelsen

151

Jinn and Mental Suffering by Migrants in Europe: A Review of Literature Sophie Bärtlein and Nina Nissen

163

Jinn Beliefs in Western Psychiatry: A Study of Three Cases from a Psychiatric and Cultural Perspective Maria Galsgaard

185

Jinn Among Muslim Captives in Guantanamo and the “Global War on Terrorism” Annabelle Böttcher

215

Index

241

Contributors

Mudhi al-Shimmari Center for Dawa and Irshad, Ministry of Islamic Affairs, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia Sophie Bärtlein Institute for Islamic Studies, Freie Universität Berlin, Berlin, Germany Annabelle Böttcher Syddansk Universitet, Center for Modern Middle East and Muslim Studies, Odense, Denmark Maria Galsgaard Competence Centre for Transcultural Psychiatry, Psychiatric Centre Ballerup, Ballerup, Denmark Birgit Krawietz Institut für Islamwissenschaft, Freie Universität Berlin, Berlin, Germany Josep Lluís Mateo Dieste Departament d’Antropologia Social Cultural, Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona, Bellaterra, Spain

i

Andreas Gadeberg Nielsen Aarhus, Denmark Nina Nissen REHPA—Danish Knowledge Centre for Rehabilitation and Palliative Care, Region of Southern Denmark and University of Southern Denmark, Odense, Denmark Tobias Nünlist Asien-Orient Institut, Universität Zürich, Zurich, Switzerland

vii

viii

CONTRIBUTORS

Birte Spreckelsen Institute for Islamic Studies, Freie Universität Berlin, Berlin, Germany Edith Szanto Department of Religious Studies, The University of Alabama, Tuscaloosa, AL, USA Felix Wessel Institute for Islamic Studies, Freie Universität Berlin, Berlin, Germany

List of Tables

Table 9.1 Table 10.1 Table 10.2

Included literature Patients’ attribution of phenomena to spirits Anthropological and psychiatric findings

167 197 201

ix

CHAPTER 1

Introduction Annabelle Böttcher and Birgit Krawietz

Jinn are an established part of the Islamic religious and cultural heritage. However, their ontology, characteristics, and effects are much disputed. First Oriental Studies and later Islamic Studies—in other academic settings, also Near and Middle Eastern Studies—and other disciplines such as anthropology and transcultural psychiatry have been involved in analyzing this complex and multifaceted phenomenon. As highly mobile spiritual beings, but nota bene not mere ghosts, jinn unfold relevance in a myriad of settings and have evoked an enormous amount of research literature. However, they have hardly been studied in a systematic manner within a globalized world in relation to psychological and physical challenges. That is what this edited volume is about. On a personal level, jinn have marked the editors’ life trajectories and experiences feeding into decades of research and discussions about various

A. Böttcher (B) Syddansk Universitet, Center for Modern Middle East and Muslim Studies, Odense, Denmark e-mail: [email protected] B. Krawietz Institut für Islamwissenschaft, Freie Universität Berlin, Berlin, Germany e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4_1

1

2

A. BÖTTCHER AND B. KRAWIETZ

aspects of this phenomenon. Annabelle Böttcher first encountered jinn in Syria in 1989 during Arabic language studies, when the deeply religious Sunni environment in Damascus taught her how to integrate them into the routines of daily life. These (spi)ritual instructions about cohabitation with the world of the unseen (al-ghayb) continued throughout the years of her Ph.D. and postdoctoral research in Sunni and Shiite global networks in Lebanon, Syria, the USA, and Germany, where jinn were also part of many Muslims’ everyday life. Later, as a delegate in the International Committee of the Red Cross, she monitored internment camps, and places of detention all over the Middle East and met numerous internees, captives, and detainees who felt afflicted by jinn affecting their (mental) health to various degrees. In contrast to that, the encounters of the co-editor and scholar of likewise non-devotional Islamic Studies Birgit Krawietz with jinn have been restricted to the academic sphere. They occurred during her ventures into Islamic demonology and spiritual health based on Arabic sources, which she also read and discussed with her university students. The public talks she gave on the topic often met with skepticism if not alienation from parts of the predominantly non-Muslim “Western” audience. In May 2018, Annabelle Böttcher and her colleague Morten Sodemann, a Professor of Public Health and the Director of the Migrant Clinic at Odense University Hospital, organized an academic workshop on “Jinn, Health and the Muslim Body” at the then Center for Contemporary Middle East Studies at the University of Southern Denmark (SDU) in Odense, Denmark. The objective was to better understand the phenomena of Muslim migrants and refugees, their mental health, and the role of jinn. The vibrant discussions unfolding among representatives of various academic disciplines such as Sharia Studies, Islamic Studies, Medical, Social, and Cultural Anthropology, and Psychology from different geographic and cultural origins and migratory experiences displayed the complex and controversial nature of this topic. In the context of the workshop, controversies also arose among Muslim academics and Muslim health professionals residing in Europe about the value of studying jinn as an academic topic. There were concerns about the negative image of Muslims living in Muslim-minority countries, since jinn belief was often associated with the backwardness of Muslim culture and society, as mentioned by Dein et al. (2008, 46). The endeavor to dissociate oneself from what is often considered atavistic is a widespread

1

INTRODUCTION

3

narrative among Muslim health professionals, who usually feel uncomfortable and ill-equipped when having to deal with jinn affliction in clinical settings. In addition, Muslim religious scholars and mosque personnel ardently debated the impact of jinn affliction on human bodies, reflecting the politico-religious narratives of their countries of origin. This is only a vague echo of the controversies occurring in the so-called global Islamic world expressed in local practices that are not yet sufficiently monitored and put in political perspective. Dietrich Jung, director of the Center for Modern Middle East and Muslim Studies at SDU, has been exploring the various levels of local and global Muslim subjectivities in a number of publications (Jung and Sinclair 2015; Jung 2017; Jung and Stetter 2019). Kruk (2011), for instance, highlighted jinn as an “obvious battle ground for the advocates of a purer Islam” due to the impact of Salafi Islam. Hence, an increasing number of publications are raising the question of delineating between black and white magic anew and fiercely criticizing quacks. Saudi Arabia is a particularly fascinating example of the instrumentalization of religion in politics. The Saudi legal system witnessed repeated cases with charges of witchcraft, recourse to jinn, and other related practices, such as the case of the Egyptian pharmacist Mustafa Ibrahim in 2007 and the Lebanese TV personality Ali Hussain Sibat in 2010, as well as several cases involving Asian housemaids in 2013. Some of them even led to the declaration of a death sentence (Jacobs 2013). The Saudi Committee for the Prevention of Vice offers anti-witchcraft training workshops to investigate black magic crimes (Perlmutter 2013). The Saudi Arabian scholar Mudhi al-Shimmari felt inspired by his collaboration with the editors of this volume and organized a conference on mental health and faith for the Institute for Imams and Preachers in the Saudi Ministry of Islamic Affairs and Islamic Preaching and Guidance in Riyad in December 2019. After intense debates, mental health professionals and mosque personnel agreed that more cooperation between biomedically and Islamically trained professionals would be most beneficial for the afflicted individuals. Under the conditions of enhanced global flows, the research on jinn has to be updated. Jinn are said to have the potential to activate subjective borders and social transformations and to shape processes of transition and exchanges resulting from worldwide processes of migration. Their assumed material makeup and swift reactions give them limitless

4

A. BÖTTCHER AND B. KRAWIETZ

capacity to cross time and space, so that jinn tend to visualize and enact personal and collective anxieties to which the afflicted feel obliged to respond. They provide an important lens in health- and stability-seeking behavior and lend their voices to the unspoken or oppressed, especially in asymmetrical gender relations (Strasser 2006). As cultural signifiers, they function as agents of moral boundary transgression and as gatekeepers of discursive terrains (Fartacek 2005). Hence, the flexibility and elasticity of their fluid conceptual design makes them ideal brokers of a worldview that struggles with notably biomedical and psychological trajectories. Thus, jinn challenge the radical separation between body and mind with the mind powerfully directing the body, and they express subjectivities of pain that, to a lesser degree, are based on the credo of the powerful individual. Jinn constitute a challenge among Muslims globally, because there is a—dogmatically induced—widespread “consensus” among Muslim theologians that jinn always share spaces with humans, nosing around them and intervening in various ways. When human beings move, they are followed by all sorts of jinn. However, it is self-evident that the degree of individual Muslims’ awareness of the existence of jinn and that their strategies of managing this perpetual source of threats depend on varying factors, such as (the degree of their religious Islamic and other) education, their social environment, their political and personal situation, their financial capacities, their gender, and their physical and mental health. Unfortunately, much of what has already been published does not keep track of the manifold historical entanglements and cultural crosspollinations. The idea of “great” and “little” traditions was introduced by the American anthropologist Robert Redfield in the middle of the twentieth century and was widely embraced for all sorts of cultural settings; the importance of such local appropriations with regard to Islam was especially highlighted by a number of anthropologists who, however, purported different ideas about their exact relationship (Lukens-Bull 1999). In either case, the strong connection with the great tradition set by Quran (commentary) and Sunna needs to be taken more thoroughly into account to explain the relevance, pervasiveness, and modified configurations of the belief in jinn. These creatures are in no way a marginal, but a rather widespread, demanding, and elusive phenomenon that has often not been taken seriously enough or that was interpreted with one particular local or regional focus only. To understand recent cases of jinn affliction and migration, it is first necessary to be aware of their

1

INTRODUCTION

5

multilayered historical roles over 14 centuries and the variety of their functions. In his book about “world society” (Die Weltgesellschaft 2000, 42), the German sociologist Rudolf Stichweh (b. 1951) reminds us that many societies have been ambiguous about what kind of creatures is perceived as addresses of communication: ghosts, animals, ancestors, and many other candidates. Such kinds of worldviews cannot simply be discarded as anachronistic and meanwhile completely obsolete, as the selection about jinn encroachments and their impact on human health presented here shows. Yet, how to approach this phenomenon that is so strongly embedded in Islamic tradition and its manifold lifeworlds up to this day without making shortsighted erroneous assumptions is quite a challenge. We should not equate jinn, the demons or spirits of Islam, with those of the Bible or Greek mythology. It is also an ongoing challenge not to fall into the trap of Orientalism—to invoke the influential programmatic book Edward Said published in 1978. Thus, we neither want to present jinn as an expression of the enigmatic, dangerous, and atavistic Orient nor as the droll figures appearing in A Thousand and One Nights. To deal with jinn in an encompassing manner, the following perspectives that have been treated in secondary literature would need to be considered: Jinn as widespread, already pre-Islamic entities; their presence in the Bible and hence a topic of (Comparative) Religious Studies, history, and the range of magical practices; prophetology (notably King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba); Ancient Greek and later humoralism and its influence on what is called Prophetic medicine; presence in old Arabic poetry; jinn as source of inspiration for poets; cosmography; and jinn as objects and subjects of Islamic jurisprudence, Folklore Studies, Media Studies, Islamic popular and consumer culture, Gender Studies, diverse anthropological approaches, especially medical anthropology, and transcultural psychiatry. To roughly map the broad research landscape, a large number of French and German publications would need to be included that are often ignored in Jinnology. The same applies to Arabic, Persian, Turkish, Urdu, and other publications that cannot always be perceived as merely primary sources, but also offer secondary literature with all sorts of further insights. However, the agenda listed above alone indicates that it is beyond the scope of this short introduction to do justice to the manifold strands of academic writings on jinn, let alone to delineate the merits of individual contributions. For an overview of several of the aforementioned approaches, the reader is advised to consult Nünlist’s

6

A. BÖTTCHER AND B. KRAWIETZ

(2015) German-language monograph about jinn that assembles Arabic and Persian sources up to the beginning of the sixteenth century CE and a huge amount of secondary literature—or to turn to his condensed English summary in the beginning of this volume. However, a number of explicitly health-related publications have paved the way for the workshop and this edited volume, namely an encompassing historical study of the concept(s) of madness (Dols 1992); love as madness as an important topic in poetry (Khairallah 1980); Islamic (faith) healing, Prophetic medicine, and ruqya practices (Habeeb 2003; Perho 1995; Sündermann 2006); amulets as a protection against jinn affliction (Hentschel 1997; Kriss and Kriss-Heinrich 1960–1962; Littlewood and Dein 2013); modern mediatization of trance practices (Zillinger 2011); gender studies in Muslim patriarchal societies (Rothenberg 2004); migration studies (Gerritsen et al. 2016; Rytter 2014), which are closely related to forced migration studies and war (Sar et al. 2007) and transcultural psychiatry (Guzder 2007; Islam et al. 2015; Johnsdotter et al. 2011; Khan and Sanober 2016; Kuittinnen et al. 2017; Lim et al. 2015); ethnopsychiatry (Ascoli et al. 2014; Bragazzi and Del Puente 2012); and other health sciences (Hassan et al. 2016). Jinn have been a particularly popular topic in cultural, visual, and medical anthropology dealing with the interface of Islamic culture, belief in jinn, mental health, and healing, but usually focused on ethno-religious group of Muslims in a specific geographic location. Dein, a British psychiatrist, described a number of cases of jinn possession of Muslim patients in transcultural psychiatry in England (Dein et al. 2008, Dein and Littlewood 2013). Suhr, a visual anthropologist, documented transcultural psychiatry in Denmark, among other things, in his movie “Descending with Angels,” which is part of his PhD thesis and other publications (Suhr 2013, 2015, 2019). One recent publication by Pandolfo (2018) focuses on an ethnographic journey drawing on in-depth historical research and testimonies from contemporary patients and therapists in Morocco. It combines psychoanalysis and a first introduction to Islamic theologicalmedical reasoning by an American medical practitioner and medical anthropologist. Another interesting book addressing various aspects of mental disorders in Islamic culture is Rassool (2018), with a faith-based Salafi account of the Evil Eye and the problem of spirit possession, though scolding the notion of “witchcraft.” The scope of this edited volume is much broader inasmuch as it presents jinn as markers for the complexity of often painful negotiation processes that male and female Muslims are

1

INTRODUCTION

7

involved in their quest for well-being in a globalized world of shifting landscapes. Affordable portable communication devices and access to social media and communication tools such as WhatsApp, Skype, and Twitter are vital components of these shifts (Rothenberg 2011). The contributions in this volume reveal a myopic rigidity of biomedically trained (Muslim and non-Muslim) health professionals when they take up the challenge of mental illness and demonic affliction. Their lack of adjusted training and creative improvisation leave them insufficiently equipped in an increasingly complex world with shifting borders allowing for multiplied cultural influences and conceptualizations of health and illness. Here, the overlap among stress, PTSD, and jinn is to be noted. This problem is exacerbated by manifold forms of increased migration with a wide range of forced and voluntary movements of populations related to neoliberal economic globalization, climate change, war, and conflict-related violence, the most extreme being the rendition of Muslim detainees during the US-led Global War on Terrorism since 2003, as well as the largest refugee and internal displacements in our time caused by the Syrian war since 2011. Individuals from diverse religious, ethnic, and socioeconomic backgrounds and with different life stories and aspirations bring with them all sorts of personal memories, biomedical experiences, emotional affinities, and fragments of knowledge about traditional Arabic and Islamic medicine. Those with experience in armed conflicts have lived through emotional, relational, and material losses. The number of those tortured and raped, especially by the Syrian regime, is not known (Leigh 2014). The social fabric of society and families is disrupted, causing feelings of alienation, idealization of the lost home(land), and a search for a new identity. Discrimination against Muslims and refugees often contributes to stress and may exacerbate preexisting mental disorders. Emotional manifestations include a wide range of cognitive, physical, behavioral, and social problems, including the use of alcohol and (synthetic) drugs such as fenethylline (Captagon) and conflating symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) or clinical depression with distress. Muslims, even those from economically underdeveloped areas with little exposure to biomedical infrastructure and philosophy, usually approve of sophisticated biomedical services and health professionals. This also applies to Muslim faith healers and Muslim scholars of Islam. This curious coexistence of Islamic faith healing with biomedical approaches has not been sufficiently addressed by the biomedical disciplines, except

8

A. BÖTTCHER AND B. KRAWIETZ

intercultural psychiatry. The increased discursive employment of jinn narratives and healing practices reveals certain deficiencies, lack of time, and personal dedication, if not the arrogance of biomedical health care systems. Anticipating a lack of respect and often confronted with communication barriers from biomedical (Muslim and non-Muslim) health professionals in dealing with faith-based phenomena, Muslims, especially those consulting biomedical services in Muslim-minority countries, tend to hesitate to share their concerns and anxieties about jinn. Apart from a lack of mutual familiarity with mental health terminology and concepts for an accurate assessment (Hassan et al. 2016, 134), some patients fear that they will be perceived as insane, backward, and uneducated if they elaborate their concerns about jinn. It is high time to create and offer jinn-sensitive bioethics and psychology on a wider scale. This edited volume assembles chapters based on Arabic and other sources (pre-modern and modern), as well as empirical data on demons, jinn affliction, and health or psychological care in Islamic contexts in the Middle East or in a migratory setting. To our knowledge, this volume is the first systematic attempt of jinn research uniting philological, historical, anthropological, and psychiatric perspectives. The first three chapters systematically set the stage for the main group of case-based studies. They explore the background needed for a deeper understanding of the intricacies of the following contemporary, mainly anthropological, takes on jinn. As such, they turn from a wide overview of the doctrinal history of jinn to the more health-related issue of how jinn affliction was conceptualized in the history of Islam up to the very specific debate on how they enter the human being and take hold of body and mind. In “Demonic Beings: The Friends and Foes of Humans,” Tobias Nünlist starts out with a broad-scale and longue-durée historical introduction to the development and spread of jinn narratives in Arabic and Persian sources up to the fifteenth century. He not only traces the genesis of jinn belief, but also covers the main discourses about jinn in the core territory of Islam in the classical phase and in the Middle Period, i.e., the early eleventh–sixteenth centuries CE. Nünlist provides an overview of the discussion of the (in)visibility of jinn, their particular bodily features, and their different categories. He also deconstructs the notion of jinn as intrinsically bad demons and elaborates on their moral agency and access to knowledge. Nünlist also describes their precarious power relations to mankind due to jinn’s mobility patterns, persistence in time, and

1

INTRODUCTION

9

unpredictable and easily irritated, often vengeful and fickle character. The chapter also indicates how to manage jinn. In “Tipping the Scales Toward an Islamic Spiritual Medicine: Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya on Jinn and Epilepsy,” Felix Wessel draws attention to the important role of Greek humoral pathology that understands health as a certain equilibrium of bodily fluids. It decisively affected the genesis of the later Islamic genre of spiritual healing known as Prophetic Medicine, and some of its assumptions have persisted among spiritual healers until today, as expressed in pertinent publications. He demonstrates that a certain Hanbali theologian of the fourteenth century rhetorically exploited the inability of biomedically trained doctors to cure epilepsy as a means to unfold the idea of another variant of this illness, an “epilepsy of the souls.” The proto-Salafi author Ibn al-Qayyim (d. 1350) subsumes under the latter version of epilepsy the ailment of overall erratic, norm-transgressing behavior that can be successfully treated only by religious scholars of Islam. Wessel also demonstrates why and how flaring, excessive emotions were attributed to jinn and that the poisoning glance of the Evil Eye can emanate even from jinn. In his record of pre-modern and modern Arabic Quran commentaries, Mudhi al-Shimmari offers a faith-based perspective. He looks through the very specific lens of the dogmatical questions if and how jinn can enter the human body. His focus is on Chapter 2, verse 275 of the holy book of Islam, which allows him to ponder the health and mental impacts of such an intrusion. In so doing, he vehemently blames early Muslim critics who tried to rationally relativize such incidents. According to him, the majority of scholars have agreed on physical jinn intrusion and the possibility that they can overpower humans and strike them to the ground, so that the latter lose self-control and their health. Framing or, as Edith Szanto calls it, “veiling” a certain illness, discomfort, or misfortune as being caused by jinn allows people to perceive and discuss their particular problem as an external intrusion that may be averted or removed. In her anthropological study “Battered Love in Contemporary Syria: Shi‘i Spiritual Healing with Abu Ahmad,” she observes an Iraqi self-made spiritual healer in Sayyida Zaynab, a Shi‘i enclave in Syria. His repertoire of strategies includes sharia-compliant incantation (ruqya), as opposed to illicit black magic (sih.r), and it comprises also protective measures, such as the use of talismans. His activities are related to the under-researched genre of Medicine of the Imams (the Shi‘i equivalent of the Sunni Prophetic Medicine) in its

10

A. BÖTTCHER AND B. KRAWIETZ

contemporary application. Szanto’s case study traces the double scenario of one successful and one failed instance of love magic as managed by the spiritual entrepreneur Abu Ahmad. She provides an insight into his self-fashioning, diagnosis, and overall communication strategies of making inquiries into the life situations of his clients in a context dominated by Shi‘i refugees from Iraq in a Sunni Muslim-majority country. The Maghreb’s long tradition of spiritual magic is illustrated in a transnational ethnographic study taking in the Moroccan TetouanTangiers region and Catalonia in Spain. In his “Ruqya and the Olive Branch: A Bricoleur Healer between Catalonia and Morocco,” Josep Lluís Mateo Dieste describes the spiritual healing “career” of a Moroccan migrant in Spain. His main protagonist Rachid detected his natural ability to conduct spiritual medicine practices (ruqya) when he moved to Europe. His success is part of a wider global surge of commercialized and mediatized Prophetic and Islamic medicine in the last two decades, increasingly using also modern communication tools. Mateo Dieste describes his central character as combining various influences and thus acting as a true bricoleur who sensitively deals with delicate issues, such as gender and sexuality, and who even counsels non-Muslims. The medical anthropology study “Healing, Agency and Life Crisis among British Pakistani Ruqya Patients” by Andreas Gadeberg Nielsen deals with spiritual emancipation processes of young male British Pakistani migrants in West Yorkshire. Gadeberg analyzes ruqya as a powerful Islamized and meanwhile global form of counseling in life crisis situations. Among the many attitudes he encountered toward Islamic spiritual healing, for young men in Great Britain it has become a revitalized cultural reservoir to set them apart from the syncretic, but rudimentary traditional South Asian interpretation of Islam of their parents and their outdated life trajectories. These men find a source of knowledge and inspiration in what seems like sharia-conforming ruqya that helps them include spiritual dimensions and moral virtues and consolidate the challenges of a modern Muslim-minority society with the rituals and traditions of their parents. These young people are thereby familiarized with emotional self-fashioning devices that are better adaptable to their British lifeworld—without being forced to completely give up their religio-cultural roots. The other contributions in this collection, with the exception of Böttcher, Galsgaard-Hansen, and Szanto, only scratch the gender dimension, but Birte Spreckelsen highlights the relevance of jinn for certain

1

INTRODUCTION

11

Muslim women in her contribution on “Contextualizing Female Jinn Possession in Sexual Trauma.” Women who fail to comply with predesigned patriarchal gender roles approved by the concept of male guardianship in Islam are often confronted with the reproach of madness due to their natural inferiority and to the prejudice that women are inclined to hysteria. Taking the secondary, mostly anthropological literature about women in Egypt as a case in point, Spreckelsen mentions some important contributions, but singles out a very problematic one by El Kholy (2004) for closer, critical inspection. The nineteenth century saw the rise of female healers from sub-Saharan Africa who established themselves as spiritual brokers predominantly for women in various countries, mainly in North Africa. Spreckelsen reproaches El Kholy for lacking a feminist perspective because she discards the accounts of women she recorded in lower-income Cairo quarters as “ambiguous,” thus omitting traumatic experiences of rape and domestic violence, notably marital rape. Western social science literature about jinn displays a variety of approaches to the interface of migration, the biomedical treatment of mental illnesses, and spiritual Islamic medicine. In “Jinn and Mental Suffering by Immigrants in Europe: A Review of Literature,” Sophie Bärtlein and Nina Nissen analyze nine articles from a number of English- and German-language peer-reviewed journals, a corpus taken as representative of state-of-the-art investigation of the topic. While the terminology differs in different migratory settings, it becomes evident that people under social and power constrains exhibit a stronger propensity for explanations that engage the supernatural and tend to seek spiritual help for psychological problems. There seems to be a gender and age dimension to the perceptibility of jinn, as well. Furthermore, their study shows that combining practices taken from Islamic healing with biomedical healthcare is quite widespread, and it is often not individuals but families who agree on whom to contact for medical advice. In her contribution on “Jinn Beliefs in Western Psychiatry: A Study of Three Cases from a Psychiatric and Cultural Perspective,” Maria Michaela Galsgaard-Hansen presents examples from her work as a clinical psychologist in the Danish Kompetence center for Transkultural Psykiatrie in Copenhagen. She analyzes the cultural encounter between different conceptualizations of distress in Western psychiatry, where Muslim patients are treated by mental health professionals who do not understand the role of religious belief in mental health. Her findings

12

A. BÖTTCHER AND B. KRAWIETZ

accentuate a conflict of interpretations based not only on misunderstanding, but also on divergent ontological positions. A clinician working in general psychiatry should have basic cultural knowledge to avoid the risk of misdiagnosis and subsequent inadequate treatment. Interpreting beliefs in jinn possession exclusively in terms of an idiom of distress can lead to disregarding severe psychopathology. Jinn beliefs offer a language and a treatment for a range of symptoms in countries where psychiatric understandings and treatment are often limited. In her contribution on “Jinn among Muslim Captives in Guantanamo and the ‘Global War on Terrorism’,” Annabelle Böttcher analyzes the opaque role of the jinn phenomenon in the highly politicized context of the “Global War on Terrorism.” Based on publicly accessible, censored documents, she traces various forms of jinn affliction, including possession, of male Muslim captives in the Guantanamo Bay Detention Facility (GTMO) in Cuba. The censored diaries of Abu Zubayda offer an idea of (sexualized) narratives of jinn among Arab foreign fighters in Afghanistan and Pakistan. All of the captives in GTMO were forcefully migrated, often kidnapped, and sold to the USA, underwent prolonged periods of torture in various subcontracted locations, and some of them were even held as “ghost detainees” in Black Sites. They perceive jinn as threats and even as manipulated by (contracted) American interrogators. The dubious role of biomedically trained health professionals from the USA during the interrogation and torture of these captives remains to be explored. Acknowledgements This book is the outcome of a process to which many contributed. First and foremost, we would like to thank the authors for entrusting their contributions to us and involving us in a stimulating learning process. This book, the workshop on jinn, and other activities during Annabelle Böttcher’s two-year research stay were generously funded by the Welfare Innovation Fund of the University of Southern Denmark (SDU) in Odense. The Center for Modern Middle East and Muslim Studies and its colleagues offered a stimulating space to explore and experiment. We would like to particularly thank Dietrich Jung, the Director of the Center for Contemporary Middle East Studies at SDU, for his continuous and enthusiastic support. We are also indebted to Professor Martin Rheinheimer, Head of Department of the Institute for History at SDU, the colleagues, and the staff, especially Kirsten Digge Larsen, Annette Groenbæk, and Helle Kildebæk Raun. Furthermore, we are grateful to the students of the Institute for Islamic Studies at the Freie Universität Berlin, Anna Steffen, and especially Farid El-Ghawaby and Maren Krause for preparing the chapters for editing and struggling with the Arabic terminology and various

1

INTRODUCTION

13

dialect expressions, and to Mitch Cohen for his language editing. We also thank our anonymous reviewers for their time and patience and hope to have integrated most of their comments.

Bibliography Ascoli, Andrea Palinski, Walid Abdul Hamid, and Simon Dein. “Cultural Consultation for Jinn and Spirit Possession in Muslim Psychiatric Patients.” World Cultural Psychiatry Research Review 9, no. 2 (2014): 65–69. Bragazzi, Nicola Luigi, and Giovanni Del Puente. “Panic Attacks and Possession by Djins: Lessons from Ethnopsychiatry.” Psychology Research and Behavior Management 5 (2012): 185–190. Dein, Simon, Malcolm Alexander, and A. D. David Napier. “Jinn, Psychiatry and Contested Notions of Misfortune Among East London Bangladeshis.” Transcultural Psychiatry 45, no. 1 (2008): 31–55. Dein, Simon, and Roland Littlewood. “The Doctor’s Medicine and the Ambiguity of Amulets: Life and Suffering Among Bangladeshi Psychiatric Patients and Their Families in London—An Interview Study—1.” Anthropology & Medicine 20, no. 3 (2013): 244–263. Dols, Michael W. Majnun: The Madman in Medieval Islamic Society. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992. Fartacek, Gebhard. “Feinde des Fortschritts und Hüter der Moral? Lokalkulturelle Konzeptionen über das Wirken der Djinn in Zeiten der Globalisierung.” In Veränderung und Stabilität. Normen und Werte in islamischen Gesellschaften, edited by Johann Heiss, 53–90. Vienna: Akademie Verlag, 2005. Gerritsen, Annette et al. “Use of Health Care Service by Afghan, Iranian and Somali Refugees and Asylum Seeking Living in the Netherlands.” In European Journal of Public Health 16, no. 4 (2016): 394–399. Guzder, Jaswant. “Fourteen Djinns Migrate Across the Ocean.” In Voices of Trauma, edited by Boris Dorzdek and John P. Wilson, 105–126. Heidelberg: Springer, 2007. Habeeb, Tariq. “A Pilot Study of Faith Healers’ Views on Evil Eye, Jinn Possession, and Magic in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.” Journal of Family & Community Medicine 10, no. 3 (2003): 31–38. Hassan, Ghayda, P. Ventevogel, H. Jefee-Bahloul, A. Barkli-Otea, and L. Kirmayer. “Mental Health and Psychosocial Wellbeing of Syrians Affected by Armed Conflict.” Epidemiological and Psychiatric Sciences 25 (2016): 129–141. Hentschel, Kornelius. Geister, Magier und Muslime: Dämonenwelt und Geisteraustreibung im Islam. Munich: Diederichs Verlag, 1997.

14

A. BÖTTCHER AND B. KRAWIETZ

Islam, Zoebia, Fatemeh Rabiee, and Swaran P. Singh. “Black and Minority Ethic Groups’ Perception and Experience of Early Intervention in Psychosis Services in the United Kingdom.” Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology 46, no. 5 (2015): 737–753. Jacobs, Ryan. 2013. Saudi Arabia’s War on Witchcraft. The Atlantic, 19 August 2013. https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2013/08/saudiarabias-war-on-witchcraft/278701/, last accessed 20 December 2019. Johnsdotter, Sara, Karin Ingvardotter, Margareta Östman, and Aje Carlbom. “Koran Reading and Negotiating with Jinn: Strategies to Deal with Mental Ill Health among Swedish Somalis.” Mental Health, Religion & Culture 14, no. 8 (2011): 741–755. Jung, Dietrich. 2017. Muslim History and Social Theory: A Global Sociology of Modernity. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Jung, Dietrich, and Kristine Sinclair. “Multiple Modernities, Modern Subjectivities and Social Order: Unity and Difference in the Rise of Islamic Modernities.” Thesis Eleven 130, no. 1 (2015): 22–42. Jung, Dietrich, and Stephan Stetter. “Why Study Modern Subjectivities in World Society? An Introduction.” In Modern Subjectivities in World Society: Global Structures and Local Practices, edited by Dietrich Jung and Stephan Stetter, 1–21. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2019. Khairallah, As‘ad. Love, Madness, and Poetry: An Interpretation of the Maˇgn¯ un Legend. Beirut: Orient Institut, 1980. Khan, Qurat ul ain, and Aisha Sanober. “‘Jinn Possession’ and Delirious Mania in a Pakistani Woman.” American Journal of Psychiatry 173, no. 3 (2016): 219–220. El Kholy, Heba. “A Discourse of Resistance: Spirit Possession Among Women in Low-Income Cairo.” In Health and Identity in Egypt, edited by Hania Sholkamy and Farha Ghannam, 21–41. Cairo: American University Press, 2004. Kriss, Robert, and H. Kriss-Heinrich. Volksglaube im Bereich des Islam. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1960–1962. Kruk, Remke. “Harry Potter in the Gulf: Contemporary Islam and the Occult.” In Islamic and Scientific Tradition. Critical Concepts in Islamic Studies, edited by Peter E. Pormann, vol. 2, 209–242. London and New York: Routledge, 2011. Kuittinnen Saija, Mulki Mölsä, Raija-Leena Punamäki, Marja Tiilikainen, and Marja-Liisa Honkasalo. “Causal Attribution of Mental Health Problems and Depressive Symptoms Among Older Somali Refugees in Finland.” Transcultural Psychiatry 52, no. 2 (2017): 211–238. Leigh, K. Syria’s Mental Health Crisis, 2014. http://kristof.blogs.nytimes.com/ 2014/08/01/syrias-mental-health-crisis/?_r=0, last accessed 20 December 2019.

1

INTRODUCTION

15

Lim, Anastasia, Hans W. Hoek, Samrad Ghane, Mathijs Deen, and Jan Dirk Blom. “The Attribution of Psychotic Symptoms to Jinn in Islamic Patients.” Transcultural Psychiatry 52, no. 1 (2015): 18–32. Littlewood, Roland, and Simon Dein. “The Doctor’s Medicine and the Ambiguity of Amulets.” Anthropology & Medicine 20, no. 3 (2013): 244–263. Lukens-Bull, Ronald. “Between Text and Practice: Considerations in the Anthropological Study of Islam.” Marburg Journal of Religion 4, no. 2 (1999): 1–21. Nünlist, Tobias. Dämonenglaube im Islam: Eine Untersuchung unter besonderer Berücksichtigung schriftlicher Quellen aus der vormodernen Zeit (600–1500). Berlin: de Gruyter, 2015. Pandolfo, Stefania. Knot of the Soul: Madness, Psychoanalysis, Islam. Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2018. Perho, Irmeli. The Prophet’s Medicine: A Creation of the Muslim Traditionalist Scholars. Helsinki: Finnish Oriental Society, 1995. Perlmutter, Dawn. “The Politics of Muslim Magic.” Middle East Quarterly Spring (2013): 73–80. Rassool, G. Hussein. Evil Eye, Jinn Possession, and Mental Health Issues: An Islamic Perspective. London: Routledge, 2018. Rothenberg, Celia E. “Islam on the Internet: The Jinn and the Objectification of Islam.” The Journal of Religion and Popular Culture 23, no. 2 (2011): 358–371. Rothenberg, Celia E. Spirits of Palestine: Gender, Society and Stories of the Jinn. Lanham, Boulder: Lexington Books, 2004. Rytter, Mikkel. “Transnational Sufism from Below: Charismatic Counselling and the Quest for Well-Being.” Journal of South Asian Diaspora 6, no. 1 (2014): 105–119. Sar, Vedat, Gamze Akyüz, and Orhan Dogan. “Prevalence of Dissociative Disorders Among Women in General Population.” In Psychiatry Research 149, no. 1–3 (2007): 169–176. Stichweh, Rudolf. Die Weltgesellschaft. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 2000. Strasser, Sabine. “Krise oder Kritik? Zur Ambiguität von weiblicher Besessenheit als translokale Strategie.” In Transkulturelle Psychiatrie—interkulturelle Psychotherapie: Interdisziplinäre Theorie und Praxis, edited by Ernestine Wohlfart and Manfred Zaumseil, 299–310. Heidelberg: Springer, 2006. Sündermann, Katja. Spirituelle Heiler im modernen Syrien. Berlin: Schiller, 2006. Suhr, Christian. Descending with Angels: The Invisible in Danish Psychiatry and Islamic Exorcism. PhD thesis. Department of Culture and Society. Aarhus University, 2013. Suhr, Christian. “The Failed Image and the Possessed: Examples in Visual Anthropology and Islam.” Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 96 (2015): 96–112.

16

A. BÖTTCHER AND B. KRAWIETZ

Suhr, Christian. “Islamic Exorcism and the Cinema First: Analyzing Exorcism among Danish Muslims Through the Prism of Film.” Contemporary Islam 13, no. 1 (2019): 121–137. Zillinger, Martin. Die Trance, das Blut, die Kamera: Trance-Medien und Neue Medien im marokkanischen Sufismus. Bielefeld: transcript, 2011.

CHAPTER 2

Demonic Beings: The Friends and Foes of Humans Tobias Nünlist

Introduction In Christianity, demonic and satanic beings are bad by definition, and angels are good. In the Muslim cultural area, the situation is different. Here too, angels (mal ak, pl. mal¯ a ika) are mostly good. But they do not act by their own will. They are rather Allah’s obedient policemen and execute his orders without questioning them (Meier 1979, 581). Demonic beings, usually called jinn throughout the Muslim world, are different.1 They are morally open; they are neither good nor bad, but can develop in either direction. They often assist humans; they do so, e.g., by showing a person his way when he is lost or by helping him in battles. Their role in the inspiration of poets is particularly fascinating. Their potentially positive functions distinguish the jinn from their Christian counterparts. But, in Islam too, they mostly disturb humans, who fear their presence everywhere and at any time.

T. Nünlist (B) Asien-Orient Institut, Universität Zürich, Zurich, Switzerland e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4_2

17

18

T. NÜNLIST

This article is based mostly on pre-modern written sources.2 But the convictions shared by broad segments of the population in the contemporary Muslim world do not substantially differ from these older ideas about demons. This continuity is due, partially at least, to the fact that the Quran and the sunna confirm the existence of the jinn. The Islamic revelation repeatedly mentions them. Although the titles of the Suras do not form part of the revealed text, but were added later, it is telling that Sura 72 is generally referred to as S¯ urat al-jinn. The sunna of the Prophet mentions them even more frequently. Denying the real existence of the jinn is considered an act of unbelief (kufr). According to the shar¯ıa, theoretically at least, the blood of whomever does so may be lawfully shed.

Debating the Existence of Demonic Beings Among the various Muslim scholars defending the real existence of the jinn, the H . anbal¯ı theologian Ibn Taymiyya (d. 728/1328) does so in particularly clear terms.3 He mentions the existence of the jinn together with such basic principles of Islam as the belief in the unity of Allah (tawh.¯ıd), the mission of the Prophet Muh.ammad (ris¯ alat an-nab¯ı), the existence of the angels (mal¯ a ika), and the bodily resurrection on the Last Day (ma ¯ ad al-abd¯ an) (Ibn Taymiyya 1343/1924, 99.5–101.2). Shibl¯ı (d. 768/1367), the author of the first monographic work dealing with the jinn in the Muslim world, takes up Ibn Taymiyya’s ideas.4 In the introduction, Shibl¯ı criticizes the position of those scholars who deny the existence of the jinn; he explains his point of view in the first chapter of his work (F¯ı bay¯ an ithb¯ at wuj¯ ud al-jinn wa-l-khil¯ af f¯ı-hi) (2017, 6–22). Later authors such as Suy¯ut.¯ı (d. 911/1505)5 and H . alab¯ı (d. 1044/1634)6 directly depend on Shibl¯ı’s text and share his point of view. Dam¯ır¯ı (d. 808/1405), the author of a well-known work on living beings, insists on the existence of the jinn too.7 Because of their often strange nature, demons are frequently mentioned in the mirabilia literature.8 Qazw¯ın¯ı (d. 682/1283), the most famous author of this genre, elaborates on them in his Aj¯ a ib al9 ¯ s¯ı, an earlier representative of this makhl¯ uq¯ at. And so does Hamad¯an¯ı-T.u genre, in about 1180.10 He concludes his account with the remark that he has dealt with the jinn because the Quran mentions them. Otherwise, ¯ s¯ı it would not be appropriate to deal with them at all.11 Hamad¯an¯ı-T.u finally condemns as an unbeliever (k¯ afir) whomever denies their existence;

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

19

he does this by citing Sura (55:15): “He created man of a clay like the potter’s, and He created the jinn of a smokeless fire.”12 Although the passage just discussed confirms the existence of the jinn, it contains first hints that Hamad¯an¯ı-T.u ¯ s¯ı, and with him other scholars, did not feel at ease when dealing with this issue. Significantly, he merely cites from the Quran to confirm his point of view. Goldziher underlined that, notwithstanding the statements in the Quran and the sunna to the contrary, critiques against the existence of demons were often formulated in the Muslim world (1896, 109). These critics based their point of view on logical arguments and dismissed all stories dealing with the jinn as belonging to the world of fairy tales. The early critics include authors such ¯ d¯ı (d. 345/956),14 and Niz.¯am¯ı (12th as J¯ah.iz. (d. 255/868),13 Masu 15 c.). Their explanations insist mainly on the psychological dimensions of demonic activity. Masu ¯ d¯ı, the author of the Mur¯ uj adh-dhahab, openly criticizes those scholars who accept the existence of the jinn. Before presenting his own point of view, he insists on his scientific duties. As an objective writer, he feels obliged to present the respective ideas impartially (Masu ¯ d¯ı 1965, vol. 2, 293.12–294.2). He opens his reflections by stating that the positions defended and the descriptions presented by the specialists of the shar¯ıa (ahl ash-shar ) regarding the jinn are possible and cannot be excluded a priori. But their ideas are not irrefutable. Most scholars who dealt with this topic from a rational point of view did not accept these descriptions (Masu ¯ d¯ı 1965, vol. 2, 293.11). Masu ¯ d¯ı expounds his point of view by discussing the convictions of a group of people (far¯ıq) who underline that Arabs live mostly in isolation (1965, vol. 2, 295.6–296.2). When passing through desolate landscapes, they are frightened. Their fear easily causes illusions, giving birth to tormenting delusions and unfounded dark premonitions. This environment, Masu ¯ d¯ı writes, favors the perception of hidden voices. These sensory disorders are due to a wrong way of thinking (s¯ u  attafk¯ır). When humans live in an unstructured environment, they are often affected by ideas generally met with in Islamic demonology. Masu ¯ d¯ı is by far not the only scholar to attack the positions defended by the Quran and the sunna. J¯ah.iz., the author of the famous Kit¯ ab al-H an, too, questions the existence of the jinn in more moderate . ayaw¯ terms and insists that delusions and perceptual disorders favor the belief in demonic beings (1356–1377/1938–1958, vol. 4, 249.1–7). He bases his critique on reflections formulated by the Mutazil¯ı scholar Ab¯u Ish.¯aq

20

T. NÜNLIST

an-Naz.z.¯am (d. ca. 221/836).16 In his view, feelings of wah.sha (loneliness, alienation) seize the people who cross deserted regions (bil¯ ad al-wah.sh). Because of their prolonged stay far away from other human beings, these travelers feel frightened (istawh.asha). In their loneliness (wah.da), people succumb to wishful ideas (munya) and fanciful speculations (tafk¯ır). While lost in their thoughts, they are exposed to temptations (waswasa) and consider small things to be great. Their rational capacities (dhihn) begin to dissolve and their humors (Latin humores ) decay. They therefore see and hear things that have no objective reality (J¯ah.iz. 1356–1377/1938–1958, vol. 6, 250.2–4). In their estrangement, humans even compose poems on these phenomena and transmit these experiences from generation to generation. Young people growing up in such an environment become acquainted with these ideas. When, later in life, they cross a desert in a pitch-black new-moon night, they remember these stories. At every owl cry, at every echo, they imagine they see things without real existence (tawah.h.ama). If such a person is a liar and loves boasting, he composes poems on his imagined encounters. Later, he even goes a step further and says: ‘I have killed the gh¯ ul.’ And then, he takes a further step and says: ‘I became friends with her’. And if he advances one step more, he says: ‘I married her.’” J¯ah.iz. concludes that only Bedouins and uneducated people accept this kind of stories (1356–1377/1938–1958, vol. 6, 251.10–13). Niz.¯am¯ı is another author who explains the activities of demons from a psychological point of view. His M¯ah¯an story in the Haft Paykar, at first glance, describes an event taking place on an external level. But al-b¯ az¯ı, using expressions such as play (b¯ az¯ı), imagination (khiy¯ al ), or khiy¯ he insists on the psychological dimensions of Islamic demonology and considers demonic beings as deluding products of the human mind.17 The interpretations just mentioned underline that doubts formulated about the existence of demonic beings are quite frequent. While the scholars criticizing this belief prove their point of view by advancing a sophisticated argumentation, their opponents, traditionally oriented theologians, have recourse to the text of the Islamic revelation. Meier18 underlines the dilemma of Islamic orthodoxy by stating: “The advocates of the jinn apparently cannot advance any other argument [in favor of their existence] than the text of the Islamic revelation” (Nachlass zur Dämonologie, folder 1, s.v. Aufklärung, fol. 38). This helplessness of Muslim orthodoxy finds its echo in an ambivalent treatment

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

21

of demonology. It is telling that the most famous Quran commentators, such as T.abar¯ı,19 Zamakhshar¯ı (d. 538/1144), and Bayd.¯aw¯ı (d. about 1300), even in their explanations of Sura 72 (S¯ urat al-jinn), treat this topic only reluctantly. Their position is rooted in the inner tension between the existence of demonic beings, on the one hand, and the belief in a strict monotheism (tawh.¯ıd), on the other. Whoever believes in demons is at least theoretically liable to believe in polytheism (shirk), as he associates other beings to Allah. Non-Quranic sources repeatedly underline that the jinn were created before Adam and can be considered a pre-Adamite race. H . alab¯ı even gives the date of their creation as Thursday 2000 years before Adam (approx. 1408/1988, 28.15f; Shibl¯ı 2017, 23.5). According to other sources, the jinn lived on earth for 40 years before the creation of Adam (Shibl¯ı 2017, 24.6). T.abar¯ı mentions that God created the angels on a Wednesday, the jinn on a Thursday, and Adam on a Friday—these three days being separated from each other by several thousand years.20 Already in the tenth century, the Ras¯ a il Ikhw¯ an as.-S.af¯ a , written by  the Ikhw¯an as.-S.af¯a , states that the jinn were living on earth before humans.21 A wise man informs his king that the jinn are present everywhere; they populate the sea, the mainland, the plains, and the mountains. While initially the jinn and humans were on good terms, their relations soon deteriorated. The writers discuss the hostility between humans and the jinn in a longer chapter (1405/1985, II.228.1–232.24): After a period of good conduct, the demons disregarded the laws of their prophets, ruined the people, and were responsible for general bloodshed. When the earth complained about their misdoings, God sent down the angels to chase away the jinn to the outmost borders of the world (il¯ a at.r¯ af al-ard.). This hostility is also based on the jinn’s claim that their seniority in creation makes them superior to humans. The Ikhw¯an as.-S.af¯a explain this innate hostility between humans (ins ) and the jinn with the figure of Ibl¯ıs in particularly explicit terms. They underline that, during their battle against the jinn, the angels took prisoners. A small boy called Az¯az¯ıl-Ibl¯ıs figured among them (Ikhw¯an as.-S.af¯a 1405/1985, II.228.12–16). He grew up among the angels, acquired their knowledge, and imitated them. As he led a pious life, he even became a leader (ra ¯ıs ) among them. At this point, the Ikhw¯an as.S.af¯a add the story, also mentioned in the Quran, that God intended to install Adam as his vice-regent (khal¯ıfa) on earth.22 When God informed the angels of His decision, they implored Him not to do so. Humans,

22

T. NÜNLIST

too, would spill blood on earth, as the jinn did. God, however, ignored their warnings. After the creation of Adam, Allah ordered the angels to bow to him. All but Az¯az¯ıl-Ibl¯ıs obeyed God’s command.23 The Ikhw¯an as.-S.af¯a explain this refusal by Ibl¯ıs’s inner nature. After all, he was a jinn¯ı and grew up among the angels erroneously. As Ibl¯ıs could not accept Adam’s preeminence, he provoked Adam and Eve’s expulsion from Paradise. But according to the Ikhw¯an as.-S.af¯a, the relations between humans and the jinn do not end with Adam’s downfall. In a first step, their contacts remain friendly for a longer period. The jinn even teach humans cultural techniques such as plowing, planting, and constructing.24 Humans, however, never forget the disadvantages inflicted on their ancestors by Ibl¯ıs. When Cain kills his brother Abel, the relations between humans and the jinn worsen again. Abel’s successors surmise that the jinn incited Cain to commit this crime. Humans invented numerous means of protection against the demons, including incantations ( az¯ıma), magic spells (ruqya), fumigations (dakhn), the use of naphta (nift.) and sulfur (kibr¯ıt ), and locking the demons up in bottles. Even though cohabitation between humans and jinn is generally friendly, this atmosphere can deteriorate when provoked by even the smallest incident. According to the wise advisor of the jinn in the Ras¯ a il Ikhw¯ an  as.-S.af¯ a , his fellows should avoid offending humans, lest they again awake the innate hostility between them (1405/1985, vol. 2, 232.20–233.2).

The Jinn and Other Classes of Spiritual Beings Before presenting the different classes of demons, it is worth mentioning that Islam knows other kinds of spiritual beings, but the differentiation between them is far from clear. Shibl¯ı cites a prophetic tradition going back to Ab¯u Hurayra. According to this h.ad¯ıth, Allah created four classes (s.inf, pl. as.n¯ af ) of beings (Shibl¯ı 2017, 28.12–29.7), namely angels (mal¯ a ika, sing. mal ak), satans (shay¯ a.t¯ın, sing. shayt.¯ an), jinn, and humans (ins ). The proportion between these different species is 900 (mal¯ a ika)—90 (shay¯ a.t¯ın)—9 (jinn)—1 (ins ). The number of jinn is therefore nine times greater than that of humans. It is often not easy to distinguish between these three classes of spiritual beings. According to Fahd,25 the jinn can be traced mostly to the preIslamic polytheistic milieu, whereas angels and satanic beings are related to monotheistic convictions (Judaism, Christianity) known in the Arab

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

23

world only with the revelation of the Quran. Certain authors maintain that the angels were first known in Iran and then introduced into Judaism and Christianity (Petzold 1999, 14). In pre-Islamic Arab belief, jinn constitute the oldest layer of spiritual beings. Jinn were the only demonic or spiritual beings known on the Arabian Peninsula before the advent of Islam (j¯ ahiliyya), and some of them were even revered as deities before the revelation of the Quran. It is often difficult to distinguish between these different classes of spiritual beings because ideas originating in polytheistic and monotheistic milieus soon intermingled. The distinction between jinn and satanic beings is particularly difficult. We can observe a hierarchization among the different kinds of beings. Traditionally oriented sources distinguish between angels, satanic beings, and jinn, in this descending order. Jinn soon lose their initial superiority to the angels and partially to the satanic beings. Humankind is part of this order, which cannot be explained solely by the alleged earlier creation of the jinn. The decisive factor in the distinction between the spiritual beings and humankind is that they were created from different substances. This idea is addressed in the Quran as well as in the writings of the later Islamic tradition. Most Islamic theologians insist that fire (n¯ ar) is the basic substance from which angels, satanic beings, and jinn were created. Humans, however, were created from clay (t.¯ın), which is of inferior purity. Qazw¯ın¯ı explains that Allah created the angels from the light of fire, the jinn from its flame, and the satanic beings from its smoke (1346/1956, 211.25; 1848–1849, 368.4f.). The hierarchical order is based on the descending purity of these substances. While the details of the authors’ descriptions of their origin differ, they essentially follow the Quran, which states that God created the j¯ ann before humans from n¯ ar as-sam¯ um (15:27) or from m¯ arij min n¯ ar (55:15). Humans, however, were created from clay (t.¯ın) (7:12). Ibl¯ıs, by the way, refused to bow to Adam because of this: Ibl¯ıs was not willing to revere a being created from a substance of less subtlety than his own. In these debates, the unclear affiliation of Ibl¯ıs again plays a crucial role. T.abar¯ı cites a h.ad¯ıth reported by Ibn Abb¯as, according to which Ibl¯ıs belongs to a group of angels called jinn. While this group was created from smokeless flame, all the other angels were formed from light (n¯ ur) (T.abar¯ı 1879–1965, vol. 1, 81.10–14). Ibl¯ıs’s affiliation was often a topic of heated debates among Muslim scholars. The question whether Ibl¯ıs was a fallen angel or rather a jinn¯ı was additionally complicated by Allah’s

24

T. NÜNLIST

intention to install Adam as his vice-regent (khal¯ıfa) on earth (Q 2:30). Adam’s creation leads to Ibl¯ıs’s refusal to bow to him. These debates go back to the Quran, where the confusion about Ibl¯ıs’s affiliation figures in mutually contradictory passages. Sura 18:50 plays a central role in these debates: “And when We said to the angels, ‘Bow yourselves to Adam’; so they bowed themselves, save Iblis; he was one of the jinn, and committed ungodliness against his Lord’s command.”26 Western research has often discussed the consequences of Ibl¯ıs’s refusal (Meier 1992, 629–631). The confusion about Ibl¯ıs is rooted in the fact that, according to the wording of the Quran, God addressed his command to the angels (mal¯ a ika), among whom Ibl¯ıs was present. And angels, by their very nature, do not oppose God’s orders. On the other hand, Sura 18:50 mentions that Ibl¯ıs belonged to the jinn. This contradiction is inherent in the Quranic text and cannot be explained away with logical arguments. Although Ibl¯ıs’s affiliation with the jinn does not justify his disobedience of God’s order, it at least explains it. Another aspect, however, allows us to decide the question of Ibl¯ıs’s affiliation. Fahd and Meier insist that Ibl¯ıs is not a fallen angel, but a jinn¯ı. The determining point is that Ibl¯ıs had children, whereas angels, per definitionem, cannot beget any offspring.27 In this context, Ibsh¯ıh¯ı (d. 848/1446) explains that, after the creation of Adam and his confrontation with God, Ibl¯ıs withdrew to the all-encompassing Ocean (al-bah.r al-muh.¯ıt.), where he felt the intense desire for sexual intercourse (1419/1999, vol. 2, 218.16f.). He, however, had no procreative capacity. He (sic) was rather fertilized in the way the birds are and laid eggs and his descendants hatched out of them. According to Ibsh¯ıh¯ı, 60,000 devils (shayt.¯ an) hatched out of each egg. His children attacked the other beings on earth, particularly the humans. Ibl¯ıs appreciated the most reprehensible devils. According to this story, Ibl¯ıs belongs to the jinn rather than to the angels. But at the same time, these stories underline that the boundaries between Ibl¯ıs, the satanic beings (shay¯ a.t¯ın), Satan (ash-Shayt.¯ an), and the jinn are ambiguous. Generally, the distinction between the jinn and the satanic beings is blurred. Some sources, on the one hand, call Ibl¯ıs the father of the jinn (ab¯ u al-jinn) (Dam¯ır¯ı 1356/1937, vol. 1, 210.26f.; Shibl¯ı 2017, 379.3f.; Suy¯ut.¯ı 1991, § 237, 93.3–7, and §§ 537–538, 248.8–12; H . alab¯ı approx. 1408/1988, 219.14). Other authors, however, say that malevolent satanic beings (shay¯ a.t¯ın) hatched out of Ibl¯ıs’s eggs. Information concerning the jinn is often indiscriminately applied to the

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

25

satanic beings and vice versa. Shibl¯ı, for example, dedicates an important number of the chapters of his monographic study of demons to the satanic beings.28 Western research, too, has insisted on these blurred boundaries between the jinn and the satanic beings. On the situation in the Quran, T. Fahd states, “Un examen de l’ensemble des données coraniques révèle à maintes reprises une identité certaine entre shayt.¯ an – surtout le pluriel shayâtîn – et djinn.”29 As early as 1896, I. Goldziher underlined the identity of jinn and shayt.¯ an (1896, 106). M. Dols, for his part, accepts the statements advanced by T. Fahd (1992, 213–214). D. de Smet is perhaps most explicit when concluding: “Pour autant que le terme šayt.¯ an revêt généralement un sens péjoratif, la littérature musulmane l’emploie volontiers comme synonyme du gˇ inn maléfique” (2001, 62). K. Hentschel (1997, 27–32), M. Schöller (2001, 40: footnote 30), and G. Fartacek (2002, 472–473) arrive at the same conclusions about the situation in contemporary sources. Shibl¯ı perhaps best summarizes the general opinion found in pre-modern sources: when discussing the relations between Ibl¯ıs, the jinn, and the shay¯ a.t¯ın, he concludes that the shay¯ a.t¯ın are the disobedient ones among the jinn (al- us.¯ at min aljinn). He calls these rebellious jinn Ibl¯ıs’s children and helpers (Shibl¯ı 2017, 17.1). Suy¯ut.¯ı repeats Shibl¯ı’s point of view in nearly identical terms (Suy¯ut.¯ı 1991, 6.1f.). Further pre-modern sources insist on the existence of different categories of spiritual beings. As there is no generally accepted list of the demonic beings; each author develops his own system. Qazw¯ın¯ı explains that, when God subjugated them to Solomon, 420 groups (sing. firqa) of jinn and satanic beings assembled in front of this mighty ruler (Qazw¯ın¯ı 1346/1956, 215.21–216.1; 1848–1849, 372; 1905, 20). In the secondary literature, information on the different classes of demonic beings is sparse, too. Wieland drew up a list containing the ten classes of demonic beings most often met with.30 Her overview underlines that a great number of demonic beings are subsumed under the generic term jinn.31 The consulted sources frequently identify the good jinn with the believing ones. Bad demons, however, are mostly unbelievers. This terminology underlines that jinn have a religion (Nünlist 2015, 69–99). The Quran shares this conviction; Sura 51:56 states: “I have not created jinn and mankind except to serve Me.”32 Ideally, the religion of the jinn is Islam, but there are also Jewish jinn. Later authors accept this point

26

T. NÜNLIST

of view, like Jafar-i Badakhsh¯ı (d. ca. 797/1395), who states: “Every religion existing among mankind can be found among the jinn too.”33

The Physical Appearance of Jinn The sources often describe the physical appearance of demonic beings and thereby imply that, at least theoretically, demons can be seen. The authors, however, controversially discussed the question of their visibility. Ibn Taymiyya and Shibl¯ı, for example, mention that a human can see the jinn in Paradise, while he remains invisible to them. This situation is inversed in this world, where demonic beings are often considered invisible. Wellhausen insisted that the activities of jinn are usually mysterious and invisible (1961, 154–155). While humans are aware of the consequences of their action, they are unable to identify the actor. Henninger, too, describes jinn as invisible beings (1963, 286). Meier states that the jinn are usually, but by far not always, invisible (1992, 621). And Westermarck mentions that in popular Islam it is possible for a human to hear jinn, but not to see them (1973, 6). Meier, although insisting that the actual etymology of the term jinn has not yet been satisfactorily explained, prefers the interpretation of jinn as “covered, hidden, and invisible beings.” This explanation goes back to Wellhausen and various Arabic sources, among them the dictionary Lis¯ an al- Arab.34 Wieland mentions the heated debates on the visibility of jinn among later transmitters and scholars. She insists on the key Quranic verse on the visibility of the jinn (7:27)35 and refers to different passages in Sura 72. Badeen and Krawietz also underline that it is nearly impossible to prove the existence of jinn by means of human sensory perception. Jinn can see everything humans do and try to exploit their weaknesses (Krawietz and Badeen 2003, 99). Although various authors have discussed the corporeality of the jinn, their visibility is the exceptional standpoint, rather than the norm. Notwithstanding the controversies about their visibility, the consulted sources repeatedly contain descriptions of the physical appearance of demonic beings. Wellhausen underlines that jinn become visible to humans primarily in their metamorphoses (1961, 151). Wieland insists that jinn are not able to change their shape on their own. God alone enables them to do so (1994, 20). Pielow assumes that, if they present themselves to humans, jinn do so in a modified shape.36 In a longer

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

27

passage, Shibl¯ı discusses the ability of the jinn to change their physical shape (2017, 43–46; 47–55; Nünlist 2015, 112). First, he insists that they can change their shape only with God’s permission. Later, he clarifies that jinn do not actually change their shape, but are able to appear as fantastic creatures (takhayyul ). They frequently provoke erroneous impressions (tawahhum). Under these circumstances, a human sees an angel (malak) or a satanic being (shayt.¯ an). But all these apparitions are nothing else than phantasmagorias (khay¯ al¯ at ) and invalid convictions (i tiq¯ ad¯ at ). So Shibl¯ı insists that a real transformation is impossible for them (Shibl¯ı 2017, 52.5–10). Apart from such debates on the transformative abilities of the jinn, the pre-modern sources often present a tripartite categorization of demonic beings, which Shibl¯ı presents in particularly clear terms (2017, 44.1– 45.4). Other sources differ in the details, but tend to follow a similar system with three categories (Nünlist 2015, 113–114): 1. jinn in the shape of animals: zoomorphic manifestations; 2. jinn in the shape of human beings: anthropomorphic manifestations; 3. jinn in the form of whirlwinds. For the sake of simplicity, further manifestations of the jinn in natural phenomena and in vegetal form are subsumed under this third category, which is explained in some detail below. Jinn mostly appear to humans in zoomorphic form. In fact, Muslim demonology is at the same time a zoology (Wellhausen 1961, 151). Henninger also underlines that, although usually invisible, jinn appear to humans mostly as animals (1963, 286–287; 299). They manifest themselves in the form of wild, rather than of domestic animals. Demons have a particular predilection to appear in the shape of snakes, scorpions, and lizards, as well as dogs, cats, camels, owls, asses, and goats, to name the most important preferred species (Nünlist 2015, 114–144). The following explanations focus on jinn living together with humans, ar most often generally known as ¯ amir (pl. umm¯ ar).37 These umm¯ manifest themselves as snakes. When one discovers a snake in the house, one should grant it a period of three days to leave the place. If it does not obey, one can lawfully kill it. The disobedience of the animal underlines that it is a satanic being and not a pious jinn¯ı.38 Henninger, inter alia, discusses these house spirits (1963, 301). And Meier speaks of “house jinn” (jin¯ an al-buy¯ ut ), as well.39 J¯ah.iz. (d. 255/868–69) already mentions their existence (1356–1377/1938–1958, Vol. 6, 190.4). According to him, the umm¯ ar are jinn living together

28

T. NÜNLIST

with humans. Later sources repeat this definition with slight modifications. Suy¯ut.¯ı, for example, adds that the expression umm¯ ar is synonymous with sukk¯ an (sing. s¯ akin: “dweller, inhabitant”) (1991, 7.4). This category of demons is often interpreted as a kind of “companion demon” (“Begleitdämon”). Jinn, however, manifest themselves not only in the shape of animals, but also in anthropomorphic form.40 Wellhausen mentions that, in the nineteenth century, the Arabs often believed that many jinn were living in the shape of humans among the humans (1961, 329). In their human form, the jinn also acquire personal traits. This contradicts the general statement that demonic beings in Islam do not have a clearly established personality.41 In addition, there is a trend that devils manifest themselves as males (Ibl¯ıs, shayt.¯ an), whereas females prefer certain demonic forms.42 As already mentioned, Arabic and Persian sources often insist on the close relation between demonology and zoology. This becomes particularly clear in the case of mixed creatures with both human and animal traits. The sources mention some examples of mixed creatures, but there are also categories of mixed beings, among them the shiqq, the nasn¯ as, and the gh¯ ul. The expression shiqq, meaning “half,” designates a class of demonic beings that can be considered halflings. They appear in the form of half a man to lone travelers and often kill them.43 A second class of mixed creatures, the nasn¯ as, often cannot be distinguished from the shiqq. The gh¯ ul (pl. gh¯ıl¯ an, aghw¯ al )44 form a third important class of mixed  beings. Mas u ¯ d¯ı states that the gh¯ ul resemble both humans and wild beasts (1965–1979, vol. 3, 316.5–8). Qazw¯ın¯ı defends the same point of view. Dimashq¯ı (d. 727/1327) thinks that, in their physical appearance, the gh¯ ul have to be situated between j¯ ann, animals, and humans (1923, 92.13–15; 1874, 111–112). When they appear to humans, they can do so in the form of any animal, but with a human voice or in human shape, and they devour their victims. The existence of gh¯ ul was often doubted. The term gh¯ ul does not figure in the Quran, but it is repeatedly mentioned in the sunna (Wensinck 1936–1988, s.v. gh¯ ul ). The Prophet seems to have rejected the existence of the gh¯ ul, but various sources insist that it can take all kind of shapes, such as that of a beautiful woman. Its foot, however, always remains the foot of an ass (J¯ah.iz. 1356–1377/1938–1958, vol. 6, 220.10–12; Hamad¯an¯ı-T.u ¯ s¯ı 1375/1996, 224.17). One h.ad¯ıth indirectly confirms the existence of the gh¯ ul by stating that lonely travelers can escape their attacks by constantly repeating the call to prayer (¯ adh¯ an).45

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

29

The gh¯ ul, generally speaking, ambush the lonely traveler. The pre-modern sources mostly situate this class of demonic beings in the deserts.46 The gender of the gh¯ ul tends to be female; but there are also male gh¯ uls. The female ones mislead their male victims, and also kill and devour them. Masu ¯ d¯ı mentions that the gh¯ uls block the paths of travelers in the desert (1965–1979, vol. 3, 18.2–5). They can be female or male. Niz.¯am¯ı (12th c.) also mentions the existence of male and female gh¯ uls (1387/2008, § 36, 274, vv. 106–109). Humans, however, are repeatedly able to escape the attacks of the gh¯ uls. Masu ¯ d¯ı narrates that, before the  arrival of Islam, Umar al-Khat.t.¯ab (the second caliph, d. 644) traveled to Syria with his companions (1965–1979, vol. 3, 316.1–4). On their way, a gh¯ ul manifested itself to them in different shapes and Umar beat it with his sword. However, fighting gh¯ uls is risky. Although the gh¯ ul dies at the first stroke, it returns to life at the second one. Humans, therefore, should not strike a gh¯ ul twice, even if it implores them to do so.47 Even if one strikes the gh¯ ul a thousand times after the first stroke, it will not die.48 Third, demonic beings manifest themselves as natural phenomena. The following explanations focus on the demonic nature of winds, especially whirlwinds (Nünlist 2015, 144–152). In his study of the female ¯ Eilers underlines that the wind is feared in the childbed demon, the Al, entire Near East, as it is supposed to be a demonic phenomenon (1979, 51). In Semitic languages, the wind is feminine, and this includes the Arabic r¯ıh.. Hentschel underlines that whirlwinds and dust clouds are peopled by demons (1997, 23–24). Westermarck, Winkler, and Meier cite comparable examples that underline the close relation between winds and demonic beings (Nünlist 2015, 145; Westermarck 1973, 6; Winkler 1936, 16). Pielow states that heavy winds, particularly if they are hot and dusty, cause serious illnesses (1995, 105). Arabic and Persian sources also perceive winds, particularly stormy winds, as manifestations of demonic beings. The Quran says that Solomon, the oppressor of all demonic beings par excellence, rode through the air on the wind.49 Qazw¯ın¯ı calls the whirlwinds zawba a (1948, 94–95; 1346/1956, 62). T.abar¯ı reports that the ruler of the demons in Yemen is called Zawbaa, whom Solomon ordered to construct castles for the king of Yemen (1879–1965, vol. 2, 585.9). Another zoographic author, Dam¯ır¯ı, discusses the episode of the pious Muslim who buried a dead snake in the desert. He explains that the dead animal was in fact a righteous male jinn¯ı from the jinn of Nis.¯ıb¯ın who had heard the Quran from Muh.ammad. This jinn¯ı was called Zawbaa (Dam¯ır¯ı

30

T. NÜNLIST

1356/1937, vol. 1, 207.6–9). Azraq¯ı reports that, at the death of a great jinn¯ı, dust rises in the desert and hides the mountains.50

The Foes of Humans The following remarks try to give a better idea of the general nature of jinn by focusing on the circumstances under which they manifest themselves. Their most striking characteristic, according to the convictions of many Muslims, is that they present themselves to humans in liminal51 situations under three aspects: spatial, temporal, and moral.52 Even on a corporeal level, the demonic nature of jinn manifests itself primarily in their extremities: the hand of jinn sometimes resembles a uls are liable to change, except their dog paw.53 And all body parts of gh¯ feet; they always remain the feet of an ass. According to Qazw¯ın¯ı, 420 different groups of demonic beings arrived at Solomon’s court in strange shapes (Nünlist 2015, 430–431). In the Haft Paykar, Niz.¯am¯ı focuses on M¯ah¯an’s encounter with the queen of the par¯ıs .54 While, at the beginning of the scene, the queen is described as a lovely woman, at night she reveals her real character to the love-drunken M¯ah¯an. Niz.¯am¯ı describes her as an awful demon ( ifr¯ıt ) created from God’s wrath.55 He repeatedly insists that the extremities of this demon who torments M¯ah¯an are misshapen. These two episodes by Qazw¯ın¯ı and Niz.¯am¯ı underline that demons manifest themselves in liminal situations on a spatial level. Other premodern sources confirm their point of view. On a macrocosmic level, demonic beings populate regions at the margins of the world inhabited by humans. They live in the Ocean surrounding the world (bah.r muh.¯ıt.), in mountainous regions inaccessible to humans, in deserts and barren wastelands. On a microcosmic level, they prefer dirty places, latrines, baths, rubbish heaps, deserted houses, ruins, etc. In houses, they dwell near the threshold. Bridges, bifurcations, and crossroads, too, are highly appreciated by jinn. These examples underline that jinn, although excluded from the ordinary spheres of human life and mostly banned to a terra incognita, are nevertheless omnipresent. Jinn additionally have a predilection for ambiguous situations on a temporal level.56 Fartacek underlines that demons develop their most dangerous activities in situations of transition (2010, 135–138). They are particularly active at dawn and dusk when it is not possible to distinguish between day (nah¯ ar) and night (layl ). According to Fartacek, ambiguous

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

31

situations favor the appearance of demonic beings. The following explanations focus on the activities of demons during particular periods of the day, and during liminal phases of human life (birth, childbed, marriage, death, illnesses): Several sayings of the Prophet underline that the night belongs to demonic and satanic beings. Bukh¯ar¯ı57 cites a h.ad¯ıth according to which the Prophet recommended that his believers cover their vessels in the evening, bind their water hoses, close their doors, and order their children to come home. He explained that jinn roam and kidnap humans at night. He also asked his followers to extinguish their lamps. In the ethnographic literature, the expression “inhabited house” (bayt mask¯ un) is frequently attested (Nünlist 2015, 222–223). It is a house haunted by demonic beings particularly active at night. Other sources warn of the jinn active at noon when the burning sun obliges humans to retreat to their dwellings. Noon is considered a bad time for any activity. Suy¯ut.¯ı also explains that Ibl¯ıs prefers to appear at noon (1991, 300.12–301.6; § 723). During the month of Ramadan, an extraordinary spiritual power is active and withholds the jinn behind the Mountain Q¯af on the margin of the inhabited world. A h.ad¯ıth reported by Bukh¯ar¯ı underlines that, during Ramadan, the doors of Paradise are open and the doors of Hell closed.58 The liminal nature of demons also manifests itself in that they interfere in transitional phases of human life. Demonic beings often harm humans at birth, in childbed, at marriage, during illnesses, and at death. The secondary literature extensively treats the increased disturbing nature of demonic beings for humans.59 The h.ad¯ıth literature mentioned above, according to which demonic beings are particularly active at night, also recommends that boys should not stay outdoors after dusk. Although this saying does not mention any particular demonic being, more or less everywhere in the Muslim world people fear the nightly activities of childbed demons, euphemistically called “the Mother of the Young Men” (Umm as.-S.iby¯ an), “the Mother of the Night” (Umm al-Layl ), or “Female Follower” (Qar¯ına or T¯ abi a). Pielow insists that these different names usually designate one and the same demonic being (1998, 47 and 187; Canaan 1937, 85). S.anawbar¯ı’s (Pseudo-Suy¯ut.¯ı’s) Kit¯ ab ar-Rah.ma reports a dialogue between Solomon, a Jewish king in the Bible and a prophet in Islam, and the T¯abia, in which she confesses her various misdeeds60 : the T¯abia admits that she roams in houses, ruins, and tombs and is responsible for

32

T. NÜNLIST

many illnesses and damages. She haunts her victims at night and lays herself on adults and children. She causes menstrual problems and is responsible for difficult births, infertility, inflammations of the eyes, pains, and many kinds of illnesses, including outbursts of wrath. But Solomon not only subdued the T¯abia, as S.anawbar¯ı tells us. In the Muslim world, Solomon is appreciated as the protector par excellence against the jinn. His battles against demons appear in every episode of his life. According to Qazw¯ın¯ı, Solomon managed to control the jinn thanks to his seal ring (Nünlist 2015, 430–431). The Quran describes him as the ruler over the wind, which, according to convictions widely shared in the Near East, is demonic.61 Solomon’s meeting with Bilq¯ıs, the Queen of Sheba in Yemen, must be interpreted against this background as well: Bilq¯ıs’s mother was a female jinni (jinniyya). Thanks to a ruse, Solomon discovers that Bilq¯ıs’s feet are misshaped—a clear hint at her demonic nature.62 Demons can be regarded as liminal beings in a third respect: when moral codes are disregarded, they intervene as protectors of correct social behavior. This last aspect is illustrated in the story of M¯ah¯an in Niz.¯am¯ı’s Haft Paykar (1995, §36, 174–197; Nünlist 2015, 235–240). M¯ah¯an, Niz.¯am¯ı’s protagonist, passes several nights in deserts haunted by demons. His nightmares end only when the cock cries at dawn and all monsters immediately withdraw.63 Completely exhausted by his experiences, M¯ah¯an finally reaches a lovely garden. He becomes acquainted with its owner, a childless old man, who intends to bequeath to him all his possessions. To make M¯ah¯an’s bliss even more perfect, the old man is looking for a spouse for him. He leaves to make last preparations for the wedding night. Before his departure, the old man asks M¯ah¯an to climb into a tree and forbids him to come down—whatever happens—before his return. While M¯ah¯an sits in the tree, girls appear in the garden and prepare a feast. When they notice M¯ah¯an’s presence, their queen with her fairylike face (par¯ı-rukh)64 asks her maidens to bring the young man before her. M¯ah¯an cannot resist the seductions of the lovely girls and is brought before their queen who, initially at least, appears to M¯ah¯an as a beautiful woman. In the end, he can no longer resist and they become intimate. This beautiful queen suddenly transforms herself into an awful demon, ifr¯ıt. On an analytical level, M¯ah¯an’s experiences illustrate the role of demonic beings as guardians of moral codes.

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

33

The Friends of Humans The examples of demonic activities cited so far almost all presented these beings as troublemakers. It is, however, important to underline that in the Muslim world jinn are generally considered morally neutral beings.65 And in rare instances, the jinn help and assist humans.66 The sources often mention that demons transmit knowledge to humans. They particularly advise them on medical issues (Nünlist 2015, 336–341). The Arabic sources additionally insist that demonic beings transmit important messages in real time. This phenomenon is generally known as belief in voices of otherwise invisible beings (h¯ atif ).67 According to J¯ah.iz., this belief is widespread among Bedouins, but he is unable to explain it (1356–1377/1938–1958, vol. 6, 202.5f). The three interdependent authors Shibl¯ı, Suy¯ut.¯ı, and H . alab¯ı deal with this issue in special chapters on the basis of reports on events having taken place in early Islam. Invisible beings, for example, informed the inhabitants of Mecca of Muh.ammad’s imminent birth (Shibl¯ı 2017, 314.1–12). H¯ atifs additionally announced the result of important battles having taken place abroad to the Muslims who had stayed at home. The short time elapsed between the battle and the diffusion of the news at home underlines the extraordinary nature of this kind of transmission of detailed information.68 An additional phenomenon, namely the function of the jinn as inspirers of poets illustrates their positive nature particularly well (Nünlist 2015, 341–373). Communications by poets (sh¯ a ir, pl. shu ar¯ a ) and soothsayers (k¯ ahin, pl. kuhh¯ an), as well as, indirectly at least, the Islamic revelation are cited as examples that demonic beings participate in the un (d. composition of texts.69 Several authors, among them Ibn Khald¯ 808/1406),70 criticize the polytheists who compare Muh.ammad’s revelations with the compositions of poets. Considering Muh.ammad’s physical condition when he received God’s word, the polytheists accused him of suffering from madness (jun¯ un) or of having an assistant among the jinn (t¯ abi  min al-jinn). Traditionally oriented scholars ( ulam¯ a ) fiercely opposed any stylistic comparison between the divinations of the preIslamic soothsayers and the verses of the Arabic poets, on the one hand, and Muh.ammad’s revelation, on the other. They criticized the polytheists who refused to abandon the veneration of their idols for the sake of the message of a be-jinned poet (sh¯ a ir majn¯ un, Sura 37:35f.). Sura 69:38–42 too refutes the idea that Muh.ammad is a poet (sh¯ a ir) or a

34

T. NÜNLIST

soothsayer (k¯ ahin) (Nünlist 2015, 342–343). These Quranic passages underline that poets, because of their supposed contacts with demons, had a bad reputation in the Muslim world. Bürgel cites several h.ad¯ıths which give a negative idea of the role of poets. Particularly clear is an apocryphal saying that “Poetry is the Quran of the satanic beings” (Bürgel 2006, 44; Nünlist 2015, 343–344). Muslim theology therefore insists that Muh.ammad did not receive his revelation from a jinn¯ı, but from the archangel Gabriel or the Holy Spirit (r¯ uh. al-qudus ). This explanation attributing poetic inspiration to the intervention of jinn found a broad echo in pre-modern Arabic literature. J¯ah.iz. discusses these aspects in a section of his Kit¯ ab al-H an under the title . ayaw¯ “Shay¯at.¯ın ash-shuar¯a” (“The follow spirits of the poets”).71 Here, the shay¯ a.t¯ın are not satanic beings in the Western sense. J¯ah.iz. rather considers a shayt.¯ an to be a companion spirit, as does Ibn Khald¯ un in his Muqaddima (t¯ abi  min al-jinn) (J¯ah.iz. 1356–1377/1938–1958, vol. 6, 225.10–229.7). J¯ah.iz. mentions several companion spirits (shay¯ a.t¯ın) who assisted famous poets in the early Islamic period.72 Tha¯alib¯ı (d. 429/1038) largely shares J¯ah.iz.’s interpretation of the demonic inspiration of the poets. According to Tha¯alib¯ı, the poets pretend that the shay¯ a.t¯ın throw their verses on their tongues and assist them in composing their texts. The fiercer (amrad) the shayt.¯ an is, the better (ajwad) the verses of his poet. The sources even contain information on the details of the inspiration process (Nünlist 2015, 348–373).

Conclusion This overview outlines central aspects of Islamic demonology as found in written sources in Arabic and Persian from the pre-modern period (approximately 600–1500 CE). It is however important to insist once more that these beliefs are still shared by broad segments of the population more or less everywhere in the Islamic world. The basic principles of belief in jinn met with in written sources (the great tradition) do not really differ from the convictions accepted by illiterate people (the little tradition). The details of belief in jinn differ in accordance with regional influences. Often, local pre-Islamic convictions were integrated into Islamic demonology. However, the dominant role of the Quranic revelation and the sunna of the Prophet guarantees that the basic elements of Islamic demonology are widely accepted among Muslims. This chapter presents the echoes found in written sources, which mostly originate from a region between Egypt and Iran.

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

35

Notes 1. The expression jinn is a generic term for all kinds of demonic beings. The word jinn is used as a collective term and designates a group of demonic beings. In Arabic, a single male demon is called jinn¯ı; a single female demon jinniyya. 2. It sums up the results of my study Dämonenglaube im Islam: Eine Untersuchung unter besonderer Berücksichtigung schriftlicher Quellen aus der vormodernen Zeit (600–1500). 3. Ibn Taymiyya is well known for his attacks on popular beliefs and practices such as visits to shrines. Although he was an influential scholar, his ideas were often criticized. See Laoust, “Ibn Taymiyya, Tak.¯ı al-D¯ın Ah.mad”, in EI2; Rapoport and Ahmed (eds.), Ibn Taymiyya and His Times. 4. Shibl¯ı was born in Damascus in 712/1312 and died in Tripoli in ¯ am al-marj¯ 769/1367. See Badeen, “Introduction” to Shibl¯ı, Ak¯ an, 9– ¯ am al-marj¯ 21. The passage referred to here is Shibl¯ı, Ak¯ an, 10.12–12.11; see also the partially identical passage in Ibn Taymiyya, ¯ Id.¯ ah. al-dal¯ ala, 102.14–103.2. 5. Suy¯ ut.¯ı, Laqt al-marj¯ an, 6.9–17 (§§ 6–7). Suy¯ ut.¯ı, one of the most prolific writers in the Muslim world, lived in Cairo in the 15th c.; see Geoffroy, “al-Suy¯ ut.¯ı”, in EI2. 6. H an, 26.3–27.15, more precisely the passage discussing . alab¯ı, Iqd al-marj¯ the real existence of the jinn (Ithb¯ at wuj¯ ud al-jinn). 7. Dam¯ır¯ı, Kit¯ ab H at al-h.ayaw¯ an, I.206.18–20. Dam¯ır¯ı lived in Egypt in . ay¯ the 14th c.; Dam¯ır¯ı’s most important work is his Kit¯ ab H at al-h.ayaw¯ an; . ay¯ see Kopf, “al-Dam¯ır¯ı”, in EI2. 8. For an introduction to the mirabilia literature in the Muslim world, see Dubler, “Adj¯aib”, in EI2; von Hees, “The Astonishing: A Critique and Re-reading of A˘g¯ a ib Literature;” Sariyannis, “Aj¯ a ib ve ghar¯ a ib: Ottoman Collections of Mirabilia and Perceptions of the Supernatural”, mainly 445–447 (with footnote 12). 9. Qazw¯ın¯ı was a famous geographer and cosmographer who wrote in Arabic; see Lewicki, “K.azw¯ın¯ı”, in EI2; Richter-Bernburg, “al-Qazw¯ın¯ı, Zakariyy¯a b. Muh.ammad”, in Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature. 10. The author of this text is referred to as Hamad¯an¯ı-T.u¯ s¯ı because the various manuscripts call him either Hamad¯an¯ı or T.u¯ s¯ı. This text is available in two editions: 1. Muh.ammad b. Mah.m¯ ud b. Ah.mad-i T.u¯ s¯ı, Aj¯ a ib almakhl¯ uq¯ at, ed. Sut¯ uda (1345/1966); 2. Muh.ammad-i Ibn Mah.m¯ ud-i Hamad¯an¯ı, Aj¯ a ib-n¯ ama, ed. S.¯adiq¯ı (1375/1996). 11. T.u¯ s¯ı, Aj¯ a ib al-makhl¯ uq¯ at (edition Sut¯ uda), pp. 511.10–14; the same passage with slightly modified wording in Hamad¯an¯ı, Aj¯ a ib-n¯ ama (edition S.¯adiq¯ı), pp. 204.15–17. 12. Translated by Arberry, Quran: The Koran Interpreted, 251.

36

T. NÜNLIST

13. J¯ah.iz. was a prolific Arab writer and lived in Iraq; the Kit¯ ab al-H an . ayaw¯ is his most important text. On him, Pellat, “Dj¯ah.iz.”, in EI2. 14. Mas ¯ ud¯ı was born in Baghdad and died in Cairo; he particularly dealt with geography, history, and philosophy. On him, see Pellat, “Masu¯ d¯ı”, in EI2. 15. Niz.¯am¯ı was an important Persian epic poet who lived in the Caucasus; his five most important works are known as Khamsa and comprise the following texts: Makhzan al-Asr¯ ar, Khusraw wa Sh¯ır¯ın, Layl¯ a wa Majn¯ un, Iskandar-n¯ ama, and Haft Paykar. On him, see Chelkoswski, “Niz.¯am¯ı”, in EI2. 16. On Ab¯ u Ish.¯aq al-Naz.z.¯am, see van Ess, “Ab¯ u Esh.¯aq Naz.z.¯am”, in EIr. 17. On Niz.¯am¯ı’s position against the real existence of demonic beings, see: Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 38–40; eodem, “Demonology in Islam”, 153f.; Nizami Ganjavi, Haft Paykar: A Medieval Persian Romance, 174–197 (§ 36), translated by J. Scott Meisami. See also the translation by R. Gelpke: Die sieben Geschichten der sieben Prinzessinnen, 159–209. 18. Meier (1912–1998) was Professor for Islamic Studies at the University of Basel (see Schubert, “Meier, Fritz”, in EIr). Although he was particularly interested in Islamic mysticism, he repeatedly published on demonology. He gathered extensive information on the belief in demonic beings in the Muslim world. This material (about 2000 pages) is now held by the University Library, Basel, under the shelf mark NL 323: D 4.3.1–12 (the list of the lemmata is available online). 19. T.abar¯ı (d. 310/923) was an important Quran interpreter and historiographer; on him, see Bosworth, “al-T.abar¯ı”, in EI2. The title of his Quran commentary is J¯ ami  al-bay¯ an f¯ı ta w¯ıl al-Qur ¯ an (Tafs¯ır al-T . abar¯ı); his work on history is referred to as Ta r¯ıkh al-T . abar¯ı (Annales). 20. T.abar¯ı, Ta r¯ıkh (Annales), I.82.3–5, according to a h.ad¯ıth going back to al-Rab¯ı b. Anas. 21. Ikhw¯an as.-S.af¯a, Ras¯ a il, II.228.5–8; on the group of scholars generally referred to as Ikhw¯an al-S.af¯a, see Marquet, “Ikhw¯an al-S.af¯a”, in EI2; de Callataÿ, “Brethren of Purity (Ikhw¯an al-S.af¯a)”, in EI Three. 22. Q: 2.30–35. ¯ am al-marj¯ 23. Shibl¯ı, Ak¯ an, 373–387, deals with Ibl¯ıs’s refusal to bow to Adam. The Quran mentions it in several passages, see Suras 7:11–18, 15:28–40, 17:61, 18:50, 20:116, 38:71–76. Awn, Satan’s Tragedy and Redemption, discusses Ibl¯ıs’s motivation as depicted in mystical sources. 24. An angel sent to Adam and Eve after their expulsion from Paradise had taught them comparable cultural techniques, according to the Ikhw¯an as.-S.af¯a (Ras¯ a il, II.230.14–16). 25. Fahd (b. 1923) was Professor for Islamic Studies and Arabic Literature at the University of Strasbourg (France). He repeatedly published on magic literature, divination, and demonology.

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

37

26. Translated by Arberry, The Koran Interpreted, 322; Sura 18.49. 27. Fahd, “Anges, démons et djinns”, 177f.; Meier, “Bet-Ruf”, 581 (with ˇ footnote 1). Wieland, Ginn-Vorstellung, 21, shares this point of view. 28. For an overview of the titles of the chapters in English, see Badeen, ¯ am al-marj¯ “Appendix I”, in al-Shibl¯ı, Ak¯ an, 57–62. In this overview, chapters 84–140 deal with Ibl¯ıs, al-Shayt.¯an, or the satanic beings; chapters 1–83 are mostly dedicated to jinn. See also the table of contents preceding the Arabic text, 5–13. 29. Fahd, “Anges, démons et djinns”, 176 (with footnote 68, 204). ˇ 30. See Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 67f.; Wieland, Ginn-Vorstellung, 35–47. The classes of demonic beings and other spiritual creatures are mentioned in detail in Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, particularly chapter 5: “Die gˇ inn und ihre Gestalt”, 100–191. 31. See above footnote 1. 32. Translated by Arberry, Quran, 239. 33. In this statement, Badakhsh¯ı implicitly considers the jinn as forming a parallel society. 34. The term jinn is derived from the Arabic root j-n-n with the basic meaning “to cover, to conceal”. For a detailed discussion of the etymology of the expression jinn advanced so far, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, chapter 1.4: “Exkurs: Zur Etymologie des Wortes gˇ inn”, 22–26, particularly 25. 35. Translated by Arberry, Quran, 173 (here Sura 7:27): “Surely he sees you, he and his tribe, from where you see him not.” This verse primarily refers to Satan. But the Islamic tradition often considers the jinn to be part of Satan’s tribe, so debates on the visibility of jinn frequently cite this verse. 36. Pielow, Quellen der Weisheit, 113, insists that jinn are mostly invisible. 37. A kind of ‘house spirit’ (Hausgeist). 38. See Ibn Taymiyya, ¯ Id.¯ ah. al-dal¯ ala, 127.11–129.7, who mentions the confrontation of a young man with a huge snake when returning home during the battle of Khandaq. 39. Meier, Nachlass on Demonology, folder 4, s.v. Hausgeister; see footnote 18. ¯ am al-marj¯ 40. See, e.g., Shibl¯ı, Ak¯ an, 47.3: “There is no doubt that the jinn manifest themselves in human form.” 41. On this issue, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 152–154 (“Anthropomorphe Manifestationen der gˇ inn”). 42. Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 154–162, chapter 5.6.1: “Männliche Teufel – weibliche Dämoninnen?”. 43. For further information on the shiqq, see e.g. J¯ah.iz., Kit¯ ab al-H an. . ayaw¯ Vol. 6, 206.7–207.9; also Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 165f. 44. The following remarks are based on Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 179–191, where further sources are mentioned. On the gh¯ uls, see also Szonbathy, “Gh¯ ul”, in EI Three (published 2018).

38

T. NÜNLIST

45. For the various sources relating this saying, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 182. 46. Hamad¯an¯ı, Aj¯ ayib-n¯ ama (edition S.¯adiq¯ı), 224.4–13, too, underlines that the gh¯ ul is a demonic being associated with deserts. 47. For this motif, see Meier, “Orientalische belege für das motiv ‘nur einmal zuschlagen’”. 48. On demonic beings as mixed creatures, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 162–191, chapter 5.6.2: “Dämonische Mischwesen: Einzelbeispiele und Klassen”. 49. See Suras 21:81, 34:12, 38:36. For a discussion of this episode, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 439–444. 50. Azraq¯ı, Akhb¯ ar Makka, 262.10f.; the redaction of this text goes back to about 900. 51. The expression liminal is taken from Latin limen, “ the threshold”. 52. For a detailed version of the following remarks, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, chapter 6: “Zur Liminalität: Die Dämonen als Grenzwesen”, 192–246. ¯ am al-marj¯ 53. According to Shibl¯ı, Ak¯ an, 235.10–236.2, Ubayy b. Kab, a transmitter of the Quran (d. between 19–35/640–656), kept his fruits in a bowl. As each night fruits vanished, he stayed up. Suddenly, an animal appeared looking like an attractive young man, who was a jinn¯ı. He stretched out a hairy dog paw. 54. Niz.¯am¯ı, Haft Paykar, § 36 (edition Thirwartiy¯an), particularly vv. 363– 375; Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 237f. 55. An ifr¯ıt (pl. af¯ ar¯ıt ) is a particularly malevolent jinn¯ı. The Quran mentions this class of demons in Sura 27:39; see also Szonbathy, “Ifr¯ıt”, in EI Three. For a translation of the scene under discussion, see Niz.¯am¯ı, Haft Paykar: A Medieval Persian Romance, § 36, 193f., vv. 363–375 (translation by Scott Meisami). 56. For a detailed overview on the manifestation of the jinn on a temporal ˇ level, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, chapter 6.3: “Ginn-Zeiten”, 218–235. 57. For detailed information on this h.ad¯ıth, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 221. 58. For more, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 228–230. 59. For further examples, see inter alia Dols, Majn¯ un, 291; Winkler, Salomo und die K ar¯ ına, 37f. (letter E); Wellhausen, Reste, 155f.; . Henninger, Geisterglaube, 292, 302; Dols, Majn¯ un, 211–310; Wieland, ˇ Ginn-Vorstellung, e.g. 16. 60. S.anawbar¯ı (d. 815/1412). For a translation of the passage under discussion, see Winkler, Salomo und die K . ar¯ına, 21; Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 233f. 61. See, e.g., Sura 21:81f. and 38:36f.; see also Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 444. 62. On Bilq¯ıs, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, chapter 10.5: “Bilq¯ıs, die Königin von Saba, in nachkoranischen Quellen”, 464–479; on her misshapen legs: chapter 10.5.4: “Verunstaltete Beine”, 474–479.

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

39

63. On the anti-demonic functions of cocks, particularly of white cocks, see Meier, “Niz.¯am¯ı und die Mythologie des Hahns”. 64. The Persian expression par¯ı can best be translated as “fairy”. In sources dating from the Islamic period, par¯ıs can often not be clearly distinguished from the jinn. In early Persian translations, the Arabic term jinn was often rendered by par¯ı or d¯ıw. While par¯ıs are rather good and usually female; d¯ıws are mostly bad; for the details, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 519, footnote 68. 65. See footnote 1. 66. On this positive function of demons, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, chapter 8.3: “Die gˇ inn als Komplementärwesen und ihre positive Funktion”, 325–373. 67. The expression h¯ atif is derived from the verb hatafa, “to shout”. 68. For detailed information, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 329–331. 69. These messages are often characterized by special linguistic features. This style, known as saj , is used in profane as well as in sacred literature, including the Quran. 70. Ibn Khald¯ un was an important historian, sociologist, and philosopher; on him, see Talbi, “Ibn Khald¯ un”, in EI2. 71. For the detailed references, see Nünlist, Dämonenglaube, 347f. 72. J¯ah.iz., inter alia, mentions the following examples: Amr is the companion spirit (here: .s¯ ah.ib) of the poet Mukhabbal. Amr’s brother-in-law is called Mish.al and was active as the inspirer (shayt.¯ an) of the poet Ash¯a.

Bibliography Ansbacher, Jonas [Qazw¯ın¯ı, Zakariyy¯a b. Muh.ammad al-Qazw¯ın¯ı]. Die Abschnitte über die Geister und wunderbaren Geschöpfe aus Qazw¯ın¯ı’s Kosmographie. Dissertation. Kirchhain: Schmersow, 1905. Azraq¯ı. Akhb¯ ar Makka: Die Chroniken der Stadt Mekka. Collected and […] edited by Ferdinand Wüstenfeld. Leipzig: Brockhaus, 1857–1861. ¯ am al-marj¯ Badeen, Edward. “Introduction” to Shibl¯ı, Ak¯ an, 9–25. Berlin: Klaus Schwarz, 2017. Bürgel, Johann Christoph. “Der Dichter und sein Dämon: Ein Blick in die Welt des Islam.” In Engel, Teufel und Dämonen: Einblicke in die Geisterwelt des Mittelalters, edited by Hubert Herkommer, 43–52. Basel: Schwabe, 2006. Canaan, Taufik. “The Decipherment of Arabic Talismans.” Berytus 4 (1937): 69– 110; 5 (1938): 141–151. Reprint in Magic and Divination in Early Islam, edited by Emilie Savage-Smith, 125–178. Aldershot: Ashgate Variorum, 2004.

40

T. NÜNLIST

Dam¯ır¯ı, Muh.ammad b. M¯us¯a ad-Dam¯ır¯ı. H at al-h.ayaw¯ an al-kubr¯ a. Wa. ay¯ bi-h¯amishi-h¯ı Kit¯ab Aj¯aib al-makhl¯ uq¯at wa-l-h.ayaw¯an¯at wa-ghar¯aib almawj¯ ud¯at li-Zakariyy¯a b. Muh.ammad b. Mah.m¯ ud al-Qazw¯ın¯ı. Cairo: alMaktaba at-Tij¯ariyya al-Kubr¯a, 1356/1937. Dimashq¯ı, Shams ad-D¯ın Muh.ammad b. Ab¯ı T.¯alib ad-Dimashq¯ı. Nukhbat addahr f¯ı aj¯ a ib al-barr wa-l-bah.r. Reprint: Baghdad, Maktabat al-Muthann¯a, [196–?]. Identical with: ad-Dimashq¯ı, Shams ad-D¯ın Muh.ammad b. Ab¯ı T.¯alib. Cosmographie de Chems-ed-Din Abou Abdallah Mohammed ed-Dimichqui. Texte arabe publié d’après l’édition commentée par Fraehn et d’après les manuscrits de St.-Pétersbourg, de Paris, de Leyde et de Copenhague par A. F. Mehren. Leipzig: Harrassowitz, 1923. Dimashq¯ı, Shams ad-D¯ın Muh.ammad b. Ab¯ı T.¯alib ad-Dimashq¯ı. Manuel de la cosmographie du moyen âge. Traduit de l’arabe ‘Nokhbet ed-dahr fi adjaibil-birr wal-bahr’ de Shems ed-Dîn Abou-Abdall¯ah Mohammed de Damas et accompagné d’éclaircissements par A. F. Mehren, Copenhagen: C. A. Reitzel, 1874. Dols, Michael Walters. Majn¯ un: The Madman in Medieval Islamic Society, edited by Diana E. Immisch, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992. ¯ Ein persisches Kindbettgespenst.” Sitzungsberichte der Eilers, Wilhelm. “Die Al: Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften: Philosophisch-Historische Klasse, vol. 7. Munich: Verlag der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1979. EIr: Encyclopædia Iranica, edited by Ehsan Yarshater. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1982–. Online http://www.iranicaonline.org, last accessed 20 November 2018. EI2: Encyclopaedia of Islam, 2nd ed., edited by Peri J. Bearman, Thierry Bianquis, Clifford Edmund Bosworth, Emeri J. van Donzel, and Wolfhart P. Heinrichs. Leiden: Brill, 1960–2009. Online https://referenceworks.brillonline. com/browse/encyclopaedia-of-islam-2, last accessed 20 November 2018. EI Three: Encyclopaedia of Islam, 3rd ed., edited by Kate Fleet, Gudrun Krämer, Denis Matringe, John Nawas, and Everett Rowson. Leiden: Brill, 2007– . Online https://referenceworks.brillonline.com/browse/encyclopaedia-of-isl am-3, last accessed 20 November 2018. Fahd, Toufic. “Anges, démons et djinns en Islam.” Sources Orientales 8 (1971): 155–214. ˇ Fartacek, Gebhard. “Begegnung mit Ginn: Lokale Konzeptionen über Geister und Dämonen in der syrischen Peripherie.” Anthropos 97, no. 2 (2002): 469– 486. Fartacek, Gebhard. Unheil durch Dämonen? Geschichte und Diskurse über das ˇ Wirken der Ginn: Eine sozialanthropologische Spurensuche in Syrien, Vienna: Böhlau, 2010. Goldziher, Ignaz. Abhandlungen zur arabischen Philologie, vol. 1. Leiden: Brill, 1896.

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

41

H ur ad-D¯ın Al¯ı b. Ibr¯ah¯ım al-H an f¯ı-m¯ a yata allaq . alab¯ı, N¯ . alab¯ı. Iqd al-marj¯ ¯ ur. Cairo: Maktabat Ibn S¯ın¯a, approx. bi-l-j¯ ann. Dir¯asa wa-tah.q¯ıq Mus.t.af¯a Ash¯ 1408/1988. Hamad¯an¯ı, Muh.ammad b. Mah.m¯ ud-i Hamad¯an¯ı. Aj¯ ayib-n¯ ama. W¯ır¯ayish-i matn: Jafar Mudarris-i S.¯adiq¯ı. Tihr¯an: Nashr-i Markaz, 1375/1996. See for this text also T.u¯ s¯ı, Muh.ammad b. Mah.m¯ ud, Aj¯ a ib al-makhl¯ uq¯ at wa-ghar¯ a ib almawj¯ ud¯ at, edition M. Sut¯ uda, Tihr¯an: Shirkat-i Intish¯ar¯at-i Ilm¯ı wa Farhang¯ı, 1345/1966. a ib Litervon Hees, Syrinx. “The Astonishing: A Critique and Re-reading of Aˇg¯ ature.” Middle Eastern Literatures 8, no. 2 (2005): 101–120. https://doi. org/10.1080/14752620500115452. Henninger, Joseph. Geisterglaube bei den vorislamischen Arabern. ViennaMödling: St. Gabriel-Verlag, 1963. Henninger, Joseph. “Beliefs in Spirits Among the Pre-Islamic Arabs.” In Magic and Divination in Early Islam, edited by Emilie Savage-Smith, 1–54. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004. Hentschel, Kornelius. Geister, Magier und Muslime: Dämonenwelt und Geisteraustreibung im Islam. Munich: Eugen Diederichs Verlag, 1997. Hid¯ayat, S.¯adiq. Nayrangist¯ an. Tehran: Am¯ır Kab¯ır, 1342/1963. Ibn Qutayba, Abdall¯ah b. Muslim. Liber poësis et poëtarum: Kit¯ ab al-shi r wa-lshu ar¯ a , wa-q¯ıla T at al-shu ar¯ a , edited by Michael Jan de Goje. Leiden: . abaq¯ Brill, 1902. Ibn Taymiyya, Ah.mad b. Abd al-H Id.¯ ah. ad-dal¯ ala f¯ı um¯ um al-ris¯ ala. . al¯ım. ¯ Uniyat bi-nashri-h¯a wa-tas.h.¯ıh.i-h¯a wa-tal¯ıq alay-h¯a […] Id¯arat al-T.ib¯aa alMun¯ıriyya. Cairo: Mat.baat al-Sharq, 1343/1924. Ibsh¯ıh¯ı, Muh.ammad b. Ah.mad al-Ibsh¯ıh¯ı. Al-Mustat.raf f¯ı kull fann mustaz.raf. Tal¯ıf Shih¯ab al-D¯ın Muh.ammad b. Ah.mad al-Ibsh¯ıh¯ı, tah.q¯ıq Darw¯ısh alJuwayd¯ı. Saida: al-Maktaba al-As.riyya, 1419/1999. Ikhw¯an as.-S.af¯a. Ras¯ a il Ikhw¯ an as.-S.af¯ a  wa-khull¯ an al-waf¯ a , 4 vols. Beirut: D¯ar S.¯adir, 1367/1957; and Qom: Markaz al-Nashr, 1405/1985. J¯ah.iz., ‘Amr b. Bah.r al-. Kit¯ ab al-H an, edited by Abd as-Sal¯am Muh.ammad . ayaw¯ H¯ar¯ un, 7 vols. Cairo: Mus.t.af¯a al-B¯ab¯ı al-H . alab¯ı, 1356–1377/1938–1958. Krawietz, Birgit, and Edward Badeen. “Islamic Reinvention of Jinn: Status-cut and Success Story.” In Identidades marjinales, edited by Cristina de la Puente, 93–109. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2003. Masu¯ d¯ı, Al¯ı b. al-H . usayn al-Masu¯ d¯ı. Les prairies d’or. Texte et traduction par C. Barbier de Meynard et Pavet de Courteille. Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1917. Reprint: Tehran: Muassasa-i Mat.b¯ u¯at¯ı-i Ism¯a¯ıliy¯an, 1970.  Masu¯ d¯ı, Al¯ı b. al-H usayn al-Mas u ¯ d¯ ı . Mur¯ u j al-dhahab wa ma ¯ adin al-jawhar. . (Les prairies d’or), 7 vols. Édition Barbier de Meynard et Pavet de Courteille, revue et corrigée par Ch. Pellat. Beirut: Mansh¯ ur¯at al-J¯amia al-Lubn¯aniyya, 1965–1979.

42

T. NÜNLIST

Masu¯ d¯ı, Al¯ı b. al-H uj adh-dhahab). . usayn al-Masu¯ d¯ı. Les prairies d’or (Mur¯ Traduction française de Barbier de Meynard et de Pavet de Courteille, revue et corrigée par Ch. Pellat. Paris: Société Asiatique, 1962–1997. Meier, Fritz. Bausteine: Ausgewählte Aufsätze zur Islamkunde, 3 vols, edited by Erika Glassen and Gudrun Schubert. Stuttgart: Steiner, 1992. Meier, Fritz. “Orientalische belege für das motiv ‘nur einmal zuschlagen’.” In Bausteine: Ausgewählte Aufsätze zur Islamkunde, vol. 1, 564–580. 1st publication in Mélanges d’Islamologie: Volume dédié à la mémoire d’Armand Abel, edited by Pierre Salmon. Leiden: Brill, 1974. Meier, Fritz. “Niz.¯am¯ı und die Mythologie des Hahns.” In Bausteine: Ausgewählte Aufsätze zur Islamkunde, vol. 2, 996–1056. 1st publication in Colloquio sul poeta persiano Niz.¯ am¯ı e la leggenda iranica di Alessandro Magno. Rome: Accademia nazionale dei Lincei, 1977. Meier, Fritz. “Ein arabischer bet-ruf.” In Bausteine: Ausgewählte Aufsätze zur Islamkunde, vol. 1, 581–628. 1st publication in Asiatische Studien 33 (1979): 153–198; 35 (1981): 67–68. Meier, Fritz. Nachlass zur Dämonologie. 12 folders. Universitätsbibliothek Basel, Handschriftenabteilung. Shelf mark: NL 323 : D 4.3.1–12. Nizami Ganjavi. Haft Paykar: A Medieval Persian Romance. Translated by J. Scott Meisami. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995. Nizami. Die sieben Geschichten der sieben Prinzessinnen. Translated by R. Gelpke. Zurich: Manesse, 1959. Nünlist, Tobias. Dämonenglaube im Islam: Eine Untersuchung unter besonderer Berücksichtigung schriftlicher Quellen aus der vormodernen Zeit (600–1500). Berlin: de Gruyter, 2015. Petzold, Leander. “Das Universum der Dämonen und die Welt des ausgehenden Mittelalters.” In Dämonen, Monster, Fabelwesen, edited by Ulrich Müller and Werner Wunderlich, 39–58. St. Gallen: UVK, Fachverlag für Wissenschaft und Studium, 1999. Pielow, Dorothee Anna Maria. Die Quellen der Weisheit: Die arabische Magie im Spiegel des Us.¯ ul al-H un¯ı. Hildesheim: Olms, . ikma von Ah.mad Ibn Al¯ı al-B¯ 1995. Pielow, Dorothee Anna Maria. Lilith und ihre Schwestern: Zur Dämonie des Weiblichen. Düsseldorf: Grupello Verlag, 1998. ab Aj¯ a ib Qazw¯ın¯ı, Zakariyy¯a b. Muh.ammad al-Qazw¯ın¯ı. Kosmographie (Kit¯ al-makhl¯ uq¯ at wa-ghar¯ a ib al-mawj¯ ud¯ at ), 2 vols. Vol. 1: Kit¯ ab Aj¯ a ib al¯ ar al-bil¯ makhl¯ uq¯ at; vol. 2: Kit¯ ab Ath¯ ad, edited by F. Wüstenfeld. Göttingen: Dieterichsche Buchhandlung, 1848–1849. Qazw¯ın¯ı, Zakariyy¯a b. Muh.ammad al-Qazw¯ın¯ı. Aj¯ a ib al-makhl¯ uq¯ at wa-ghar¯ a ib al-mawj¯ ud¯ at. Cairo: Mus.t.af¯a al-B¯ab¯ı al-H . alab¯ı, 1346/1956. Qazw¯ın¯ı, Zakariyy¯a b. Muh.ammad al-Qazw¯ın¯ı. Die Wunder des Himmels und der Erde. Translated by Alma Giese. Lenningen: Erdmann, 2004.

2

DEMONIC BEINGS: THE FRIENDS AND FOES OF HUMANS

43

[Qazw¯ın¯ı, Zakariyy¯a b. Muh.ammad al-Qazw¯ın¯ı] Ansbacher, Jonas. Die Abschnitte über die Geister und wunderbaren Geschöpfe aus Qazw¯ın¯ı’s Kosmographie. Translated into German with comments. Dissertation. Kirchhain: Schmersow, 1905. Quran: The Koran Interpreted. Translated by Arthur J. Arberry. New York: Touchstone, 1996. Rapoport, Yossef, and Shahab Ahmed, eds. Ibn Taymiyya and His Times. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010. Sariyannis, Marinos. “Aj¯aib ve ghar¯aib: Ottoman Collections of Mirabilia and Perceptions of the Supernatural.” Der Islam 92, no. 2 (2015): 442–467. https://doi.org/10.1515/islam-2015-0015. Schöller, Marco. “His Master’s Voice: Gespräche mit Dschinnen im heutigen Ägypten.” Die Welt des Islams 41 (2001): 32–71. ¯ am al-marj¯ Shibl¯ı, Muh.ammad b. Abdall¯ah ash-Shibl¯ı. Ak¯ an f¯ı ah.k¯ am al-j¯ ann. H aqqaqa-h¯ u wa-qaddama la-h¯ u Idw¯ a rd Bad¯ın [Edward Badeen]. Beirut: . German Orient Institute, 2017. de Smet, Daniel. “Anges, diables et démons en gnose islamique.” In Démons et merveilles d’Orient, vol. 13, edited by Ryka Gyselen, 61–70. Bures-sur-Yvette: Groupe pour l’étude de la civilisation du Moyen-Orient, Res Orientales, 2001. Suy¯ ut.¯ı, Jal¯al ad-D¯ın Abd ar-Rah.m¯an al-Suy¯ ut.¯ı. Laqt. al-marj¯ an f¯ı ah.k¯ am alj¯ ann. Allaqa alay-hi Kh¯alid Abd al-Fatt¯ah. Shibl. Cairo: Maktabat al-Tur¯ath al-Isl¯am¯ı, 1991. T.abar¯ı, Ab¯ u Jafar Muh.ammad b. Jar¯ır al-T.abar¯ı. Annales (Ta r¯ıkh al-rusul wa-lmul¯ uk). Cum aliis edidit Michael Jan de Goeje. 15 vols. Leiden: Brill, 1879– 1965. Reprint: Annales, quos scripsit Abu Djafar Mohammed Ibn Djarir atTabari; cum aliis edidit Michael Jan de Goeje. Tehran: Maktabat al-Asad¯ı, 197–?. Wellhausen, Julius. Reste arabischen Heidentumes. 1887. Reprint: Berlin: de Gruyter, 1961. Wensinck, Arent Jan. Concordance et indices de la tradition musulmane: Les six livres, le Musnad d’Ald¯ arim¯ı, le Muwat..ta  de M¯ alik, le Musnad de Ah.mad ibn H . anbal. Leiden: Brill, 1936–1988. Westermarck, Edward. Pagan Survivals in Mohammedan Civilization. London: Macmillan and Co, 1933. Reprint: Amsterdam: Philo Press, 1973. ˇ Wieland, Almut. Studien zur Ginn-Vorstellung im modernen Ägypten. Würzburg: Ergon, 1994. Winkler, Hans Alexander. Salomon und die K . ar¯ına: Eine orientalische Legende von der Bezwingung einer Kindbettdämonin durch einen heiligen Helden. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1931. Winkler, Hans Alexander. Die reitenden Geister der Toten: Eine Studie über die Besessenheit des Abd er-Râd.i und über Gespenster und Dämonen, Heilige und Verzückte, Totenkult und Priestertum in einem oberägyptischen Dorfe. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1936.

CHAPTER 3

Tipping the Scales Toward an Islamic Spiritual Medicine: Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya on Jinn and Epilepsy Felix Wessel

Introduction By the thirteenth century, a Sunni genre of texts called the Prophet’s Medicine (t.ibb al-nab¯ı, al-t.ibb al-nabaw¯ı, .tibb al-ras¯ ul )1 had come into full bloom and was most prominently enriched by traditionalists in Mamluk Damascus. Among them, Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya (691/1292– 751/1350) emerged as the Muslim scholar of religion best known to larger audiences in modern times and whose writings on the spiritual merits of the holy sources of Islam meanwhile enjoy wide-ranging

F. Wessel (B) Institute for Islamic Studies, Freie Universität Berlin, Berlin, Germany e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4_3

45

46

F. WESSEL

popularity. Originally being a part of Ibn al-Qayyim’s biography of the Prophet, his Z¯ ad al-ma‘¯ ad ‘al¯ a hady khayr al-‘ib¯ ad (Provision for the Life to Come with the Teachings of the Best of God’s Servants), al-T . ibb al-nabaw¯ı was initially not written as a separate book. His elaborations on Prophetic Medicine bear typical elements of Hanbali theological and normative thought and method, such as the school’s strongly, but not exclusively, literalist understanding of the divine texts.2 This makes them, at first glance, not very open to the seemingly rationalist field of medical theory with its ancient Greek underpinnings. However, as Irmeli Perho has convincingly shown in her monograph on three major exponents of the Prophet’s Medicine of that period,3 at this stage of development its authors combined rationalist medical and spiritual religious knowledge in order to endow medical treatment with an appropriate religious framing and to advocate the fundamental role of Islam in dealing with all sorts of afflictions. They produced “medical” writings that blended two realms of knowledge previously regarded as separate, if not contradictory. In the manner of the later Hanbali scholars, Ibn al-Qayyim affirmed the existence of jinn as described in the Qur’an and the Sunna of the Prophet as his exemplary way of life and role model for his followers. Under the rubric of medicine (t.ibb), the Damascene scholar assembled those strands of thought and previously scattered fragments in a theory of disease and spiritual healing. Ibn al-Qayyim made use of the idea of jinn to fill some explanatory gaps that humoral medicine itself could not provide satisfactory answers to. But what effects does the inclusion of elements of knowledge from such different spheres as Greek humoral medicine and Islamic religion have? And how do jinn figure in this scheme? This chapter pursues these questions through the prism of Ibn al-Qayyim’s understanding of epilepsy (s.ar ) as exemplified within his wider field of Prophetic Medicine. The appearance and cause of epilepsy already presented a riddle to the ancient Greeks, since it combined physical and psychological symptoms and it hinted at more than physical processes. It was known as the “sacred disease,” suggesting that it was sent by a deity, caused by possession by a god or a demon or as a punishment for sin. Epileptic seizures were even believed to be states of proximity to God or the divine and therefore associated with prophecy (Dols and Immisch 1992, 7–8, 29, 72). In the Corpus Hippocraticum, the writing ad morbo sacro (on the sacred disease) linked the term epilepsy for the first time to its specific symptoms. Despite the title, the author argues against a divine cause of the disease

3

TIPPING THE SCALES TOWARD AN ISLAMIC SPIRITUAL MEDICINE …

47

and emphasizes the impact of humoral causes. Thereafter, the expression “sacred disease” prevailed. For this reason, Ibn al-Qayyim’s treatment of epilepsy serves here as a paradigmatic case to inquire about the relationship between health and the supernatural, as well as to ponder normative conclusions. For an evaluation of Ibn al-Qayyim’s contribution to “medicine” within the intellectual landscape of medieval medical theory, or, rather the postclassical Islamic period, this chapter will first give a brief outline of medical humoral theory and of the development of the Prophet’s medicine as a genre between the ninth and fourteenth centuries. This outline of the genre’s development will be based largely on Irmeli Perho’s monograph on the Prophet’s medicine and on the contributions of Emilie SavageSmith to the broader field of Islamic medicine, as well as on Michael Dols’ study of the madman in medieval Islamic society, as a backdrop.4 The second half of this chapter investigates Ibn al-Qayyim’s understanding of epilepsy in his presentation of al-T . ibb al-nabaw¯ı and examines his conception of disease and ailment as outlined in his introduction. How does Ibn al-Qayyim succeed in bringing together humoral medicine and Islamic religious tradition? What role do jinn play in his conception of epilepsy? And how does this affect the understanding of epilepsy itself? Medical theory and practice in the medieval Islamic world was heavily based on ancient Greek humoral theory. With the Abbasids taking over the Caliphate in the mid-eighth century, a Graeco-Arabic translation movement gathered pace and lasted until the Buyid era in the eleventh century. Based in Baghdad, encouraged by their respective rulers and by private and official patrons and financiers, mostly Syriac-speaking Nestorian Christians translated into Arabic the writings of Greek scholarship from Greek and Syriac (Gutas 2005, 4–7). Following this first phase of translation of Greek scientific writing in the ninth century came a period of compilation of material, while finally a third stage saw the composition of comprehensive treatises by medical and philosophical authorities, like Ibn S¯ın¯a (Ibn Sina, Avicenna) and al-R¯az¯ı (Rhazes) in the tenth and eleventh centuries (Savage-Smith 1996, 913–926). Probably, the most influential of the translated Greek medical texts was the humoral theory of Hippocrates (d. approx. 370 BCE) (Nickel 2011, 597), which was developed further by Galen (d. approx. 199) (Nickel 2011, 450–451) and transmitted to the later Arabs via the school of Alexandria (Savage-Smith and Pormann 2007, 15).

48

F. WESSEL

Humoral medicine was based on the assumption that the human body comprises four humors, namely blood, black and yellow bile, and phlegm, each ascribed to a certain organ and characterized by a combination of two out of four qualities: warm or cold, dry or moist. In a healthy body, the humors are in relative balance, while an imbalance causes and is indicative of disease. Since foodstuffs share the same qualities as the body’s humors, diet is an important means of medical therapy. For example, a dry and warm diet is prescribed to counterbalance a dominance of moist and cold humors. Further remedies were the ingestion of pharmaceutical substances and simple drugs, as well as techniques such as cupping, venesection, cautery, and even exposure to certain weather conditions (Savage-Smith and Pormann 2007, 43–45).

The Developmental Stages of the Prophet’s Medicine Apart from Graeco-Arabic medicine, between the ninth and fifteenth centuries, a genre of text developed known as the Prophet’s medicine or Prophetic Medicine. Its authors were mainly not physicians, but scholars of religion, who, in the relative absence of medical advice in the Quran, referred to passages from the Sunna of the Prophet Muhammad. They also included the ancient Arabic medical tradition (Savage-Smith and Pormann 2007, 72; Dols and Immisch 1992, 211–212, 243). These sources were often transmitted in the form of Hadith and cross-pollinated with other writings of Islamic culture. Historically, such pertinent medical information was initially only collected, later also commented upon, and finally used to develop more comprehensive religio-medical theories. The development of the Prophet’s Medicine is divided into four phases: i. In a first step, medicine-related traditions about the life of Muhammad were compiled in separate sections within the authoritative Hadith collections, such as a section called “chapter on ill people” (kit¯ ab al-mard.¯ a ) in al-Bukh¯ar¯ı’s al-S.ah.¯ıh. compendium and a section titled “chapter on medicine” (kit¯ ab al-t.ibb) in Ibn M¯aja’s Hadith encyclopedia Kit¯ ab al-Sunan (Perho 1995, 53).5 ii. The first book that distinctly treated the topic was al-T . ibb alnabaw¯ı by the Andalusian scholar Abd al-Malik Ibn H . ab¯ıb alSulam¯ı al-Qurt.ub¯ı (d. 238/853), but the manuscript did not

3

TIPPING THE SCALES TOWARD AN ISLAMIC SPIRITUAL MEDICINE …

49

survive. The oldest such extant texts are al-T . ibb al-nabaw¯ı by Ibn al-Sunn¯ı al-D¯ınawar¯ı (d. 364/974) and a work of the same title by Ab¯u Nuaym al-Is.fah¯an¯ı (d. 430/1038). Neither author commented on the Hadith collected therein, but they arranged their material in a way that was familiar from humoral medicine (Perho 1995, 54).6 Ibn al-Jawz¯ı (d. 597/1200), the famous Hanbali legal scholar from Baghdad, arranged the presentation of diseases and cures in his Luqat. al-man¯ afi  f¯ı al-t.ibb in accordance with medical books of that time and presented humoral theory, which made this book another milestone in the development of this genre. This method was copied/used by the practicing Damascene doctor Abd al-Lat.¯ıf al-Baghd¯ad¯ı (d. 629/1231), whose comments on Ibn M¯aja’s Kit¯ ab al-Sunan were put into writing by his disciple Muh.ammad al-Birz¯al¯ı (d. 636/1239). In a next step, Al¯ı Ibn Abd al-Kar¯ım al-H . amaw¯ı (d. 720/1320), expanded the work of alBirz¯al¯ı inasmuch as he based his treatise on the Prophet’s medicine on all authoritative Hadith collections and cited medical authorities such as Ibn S¯ın¯a and al-R¯az¯ı. iii. The fourteenth century saw elaborate writings of the Prophet’s medicine among traditionalist Damascene authors such as alDhahab¯ı (d. 748/1348), Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya (d. 751/1350), and Ibn Muflih. (d. 763/1362). They not only collected Hadith and commented on the diseases and remedies described therein, but also elaborated on all sorts of symptoms and cures in accordance with their contemporary medical knowledge, combining it with Hadith. Their works were “constructed like a regular medical book treating all the basic issues of medical theory in a concise manner” (Perho 1995, 34) and contributed to forming a traditionalist Islamic theoretical framework for medical practice (Perho 1995, 76–78). Hence, over time, the Prophet’s medicine became a blend of Greek-based humoral medicine, Islamic belief, and ancient Arab medicine (Dols and Immisch 1992, 248; Elgood 1962, 146). iv. After the fourteenth century’s Damascene traditionalists, authors continued to develop this genre. Two of them were the Yemeni scholars al-S.anawbar¯ı al-Yaman¯ı (d. 815/1412) and Ibr¯ah¯ım alAzraq (d. 890/1485), whose works are characterized by a predominance of rationalist humoral theory. In contrast, the work titled al-Manhaj al-saw¯ı wal-manhal al-raw¯ı f¯ı al-t.ibb al-nabaw¯ı by the Cairene scholar Jal¯al al-D¯ın al-Suy¯ut.¯ı (d. 911/1505) focuses on the religious tradition without commenting on it with regard to humoral medicine.7

50

F. WESSEL

Features of the Prophet’s Medicine Humoral medicine and many medical Hadith shared an emphasis on diet to prevent and treat diseases, as indicated by recommendations with long lists of food in writings on the Prophet’s medicine (Ibn al-Qayyim 1998, 2003). Both also recommend cupping and cautery. At a later stage, more elements from humoral theory were included in the development of the Prophet’s medicine while elaborating in detail on Hadith related to health issues. We may already speak of intersections, rather than mere similarities, between the two. The Prophet’s medicine further relied on Hadith of Muhammad recommending honey, camel’s milk, and urine as remedies for certain ailments. This advice was not only referred to by authors of the Prophet’s medicine, but also discussed and partly affirmed by Ibn Sina (d. 428/1037) (Perho 1995, 121–123). Yet, in contrast to humoral medicine, the Prophet’s medicine includes divine remedies (adwiya nabawiyya) (Perho 1995, 53). These could be regular prayers (s.al¯ at ), spiritual invocation (du ¯ a ), trustful patience (s.abr), struggle in the name of religion (jih¯ ad), divine charm or magic (ruqya il¯ ahiyya), recitations from the Quran, or substances said to contain divine blessing (baraka) to treat and prevent afflictions. The healing qualities of the Quran encompass curing effects ascribed to the recitation of certain Suras and verses, such as its first chapter (al-f¯ atih.a) or the last two Suras (almu awwidhat¯ an, meaning “the two protecting ones,” i.e., Suras 113 and 114) (Lecker 1992, 564). These two final chapters, for example, were said to shelter a person from the mischief of the Evil Eye that an envious human or jinn¯ı strikes him with (Krawietz 2002a). The Quran is also believed to unfold its healing capacities if one wears part of it as an amulet. A particularly potent verse was written on a paper and then washed off with water that was subsequently drunk by the afflicted. Moreover, the Damascene traditionalists of the fourteenth century advocated moral conduct in accordance with the principles of the Sharia and a life following the example set by the Prophet. Widespread pre-modern understanding did not perceive the human soul and the behavior that it induces as separate from the human body, but as being in a constant interplay with it. Backed by the overall imperative to balance the humors, for these Hanbali and other Muslim traditionalists to strengthen the soul meant to insist on moral or spiritual conduct based on an internal balance of soul and body. Hence, Prophetic Medicine promoted not only physical

3

TIPPING THE SCALES TOWARD AN ISLAMIC SPIRITUAL MEDICINE …

51

strength but also the prevention of malady by keeping one’s balance, and it offered a key to spiritual well-being (Dols and Immisch 1992, 243). On a theological level, over time, the Prophet’s medicine became based on the premises that disease was not caused by God directly, but through earthly means or intermediaries, including jinn or sorcery. In this case, disease is still perceived as given by God, but jinn function as the earthly agents, effecting disease by possessing humans or by striking them with the Evil Eye (Dols and Immisch 1992, 247). In general, affliction was perceived as emanating from God’s will and as a trial for the believer; but at the same time, God also provided treatment, as He created a cure for every disease, although not all remedies have been discovered yet or been properly applied (Dols and Immisch 1992, 244–245). This explanatory model gave traditionalist authors in the fourteenth-century greater liberties to incorporate humoral medicine into Hadith science. On the one hand, this allowed the introduction of a certain degree of rationalism in the traditionalists’ argumentation, even though they pretended to distance themselves from rationalist schools of thought. On the other hand, they also refuted the extreme ascetic or mystic practices of some radical Sufis who rejected medical treatment (tark al-tad¯ aw¯ı) as part of their pious exercises of enduring ordained illness with patience (s.abr). This could have been linked to the theological concept of complete trust (tawakkul ) in God’s just plan without questioning the wisdom behind the cause of a disease and of gaining a place in the hereafter by passing through the experience of affliction. For his part, Ibn al-Qayyim took a different stance and did not see tawakkul as conflicting with treatment (Bürgel 2016, 20–24; Perho 1995, 65–67). At this stage, elements of humoral medicine were fully incorporated into the Prophet’s medicine. Tzvi Langermann argues that, in the course of the translation movement described in the beginning of this chapter, Islam developed a natural relation with science, meaning that scientific knowledge, by being quoted and referenced, became “naturalized” in texts addressing religious concerns and hence part of religious knowledge (Langermann 2010, 212–213). By the time Ibn al-Qayyim authored his Medicine of the Prophet, he could make use of humoral medicine, as it was not perceived as conflicting with the wider Islamic culture. In his research on the fur¯ usiyya genre, Stephan Conermann has shown that traditionalist authors during the Mamluk era co-opted worldly literature in order to emphasize the role model of Muhammad and his Companions for pious Muslims (Conermann 2013, 414–415, 417).8 Accordingly,

52

F. WESSEL

the appropriation of rationalist argumentation from the field of medicine by Hadith scholars led to the religious cooptation of a genre formerly perceived as secular. This also allowed other fields of knowledge to be dealt with in this way, so that the universal validity of religion could be proven.

Jinn and Epilepsy According to Ibn al-Qayyim The following presents Ibn al-Qayyim’s chapter on epilepsy because it serves as a particularly striking example of the specific mechanism of incorporating medicine in religion. The role of jinn in this interface will also be exemplified. In general, Ibn al-Qayyim’s writing was extensive and is difficult to label, since he rarely confined himself to a single genre and used to combine theology, jurisprudence, philology, and ethics. This genretransgressing style was a source of creative energy in his writing (Krawietz 2006, 29). In our case, the concept of humoral medicine was incorporated in the study of Quran and Sunna (by blending humoral theory with elements from the sacred sources). Ibn al-Qayyim advocated the precedent of the Prophet as a model for pious Muslims and adherence to Islamic law to secure access to the hereafter. His Medicine of the Prophet is characteristic of Hanbali scholarship as it constantly refers to Quran and Sunna and emphasizes moral conduct in a Muslim’s everyday life and the importance of the exemplary role of the Prophet and his Companions. Another Hanbali feature is the theory of the consistency of reason and revelation, meaning that the divine revelation is per se rational and that no rationalist argument can contradict the word of God, otherwise it would not be rational (Rapoport 2010, 194). The value of such an approach is obvious when it comes to a genre that employs tradition to establish a religiously grounded theory for medical practice, spiritual healing, and prophylaxis. Ibn al-Qayyim’s al-T . ibb al-nabaw¯ı consists of two main parts. The first is a general consideration of medical theory and religious permission and encouragement to seek medical treatment; the second provides an alphabetical list of food and medicinal substances. He begins with his understanding of disease and cure, emphasizing that only a medicine based on the knowledge of divine revelation may lay claim to truth and effective treatment, while criticizing rationalist humoral medicine for only scratching the surface. Despite his sharp rhetoric against rationalist medical scholars, whom he calls ignorant doctors, Ibn al-Qayyim

3

TIPPING THE SCALES TOWARD AN ISLAMIC SPIRITUAL MEDICINE …

53

acknowledges cures derived from the rationalist methods of humoral medicine, but somewhat harmonizes them through his juxtaposition with medical statements from the normative sources of Islam (Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya 1979, 1–18).9 In cases of obvious contradiction between Prophetic tradition and rationalist theory, Ibn al-Qayyim manages to combine them by adjusting them in various ways.10 Some prophetic statements appear as universally valid, while in other cases, for example in his sections on fever, he limits the scope of a Hadith to its specific location, time, and target audience. Accordingly, urban dwellers need compound medicine due to their complex diet, whereas Bedouins can take simple drugs such as honey and herbs due to their simple food (IQ 1979, 6). Ibn al-Qayyim also applies this hermeneutic strategy to epilepsy. His method of reconciling rationalism and tradition is to restrict the validity of humoral theory by dividing diseases into a spiritual and a physical form, naming them “the physical diseases” (amr¯ ad. al-abd¯ an) and “the diseases of the heart” (amr¯ ad. al-qul¯ ub) (Schallenbergh 2001, 422; IQ 1979, 2). There are remedies for the body and remedies for the heart (IQ 1979, 2). Ibn al-Qayyim further distinguishes between two types of disease of the heart: doubt or confusion (shubha) and lust (shahwa) (IQ 1979, 2). The first relates to the true knowledge of God, in which case Ibn al-Qayyim recommends certainty (yaq¯ın) as the appropriate remedy; in the case of desire (shahwa), he advocates patience (s.abr) (Schallenbergh 2001, 427). Here, healing means to strengthen the soul by adhering to the divine law, because a body inhabited by a strong soul is less prone to ailment. As we will see below, according to Ibn al-Qayyim, epilepsy can emerge from doubt (shubha). The division of different types of diseases serves a further goal in the case of epilepsy, as Ibn al-Qayyim distinguishes two different causes: “Epilepsy is of two kinds: an epilepsy stemming from malicious, earthly spirits and an epilepsy that stems from bad humors” (Al-s.ar  .sar ¯ ani: .sar  min al-arw¯ ah. al-khab¯ıta al-ard.iyya wa .sar  min ¯ he allows both the ratio a.t al-rad¯ı at ) (IQ 1979, 51). Thereby, al-akhl¯ nalist and the religious explanation to apply. He continues: “They [the rationalist theoreticians] do not have anything but ignorance. Otherwise, there is nothing in the art of medicine that can overcome it. Experience and fact prove it [this type of epilepsy]” (IQ 1979, 51). Experience most probably had shown that epilepsy seemed incurable by means of humoral medicine. Therefore, Ibn al-Qayyim managed to fill this gap with explanations from divine scriptures (Perho 1995, 129). He emphasizes the role of spirits (arw¯ ah.) in medicine: “They admit that its treatment lies in the

54

F. WESSEL

confrontation of the noble, good, and lofty spirits with those evil, vicious spirits; and in removing their influence, and in opposing and overcoming their deeds” (IQ 1979, 51). Accordingly, the strong spirit of a person helps to protect him against evil spirits. As mentioned above, the balance of body and soul was also a principle of humoral medicine. However, Ibn al-Qayyim not only identifies two different causes of the disease, but also claims that there are two different kinds of epilepsy: al-s.ar  .sar ¯ ani. At first glance, one could assume that he merely gives two different reasons for the same phenomenon here (Ragab 2009), but he actually describes each type very differently in the following sections. Hence, to understand the way his presentation of epilepsy functions, he might be taken at his word that there are indeed two kinds of epilepsy: an epilepsy of humors (s.ar  alakhl¯ a.t) and an epilepsy of spirits (s.ar  al-arw¯ ah.).11 He treats each in a separate chapter, the second with the epilepsy of humors and its symptoms and the first chapter on spirit epilepsy. Herein, Ibn al-Qayyim diagnoses the spread of the disease and indicates its possible treatment. This will be the core of our examination.

The Fight Against Jinn-Induced Epilepsy Ibn al-Qayyim starts the section on spirit epilepsy with an account from the Hadith about a black woman suffering from epilepsy who involuntarily takes off her clothes during seizures and who asks the Prophet to invoke Allah on her behalf. Muhammad offers her either paradise if she endures the fits with patience (s.abr) or to ask God to end the seizures. She opts for patience to secure herself a place in heaven, but wants the Prophet to supplicate to God to prevent her from involuntarily stripping off her clothes during the seizures (IQ 1979, 51; Jolin 1999, 30). It is noteworthy that Muhammad is unable to cure her. Ibn al-Qayyim explains this in his section on humor-related epilepsy, where he assumes that the woman is suffering from humor-related epilepsy with symptoms he describes. He further states that this type of epilepsy of humors is incurable, which explains why the Prophet did not promise her a cure but instead asked her to observe .sabr. In other words, this tradition propagates endurance as a key to enter paradise and supplication to God as a cure. Interestingly, the behavior she shows during her fits is decisively not in conformity with the Sharia, so that epilepsy is here associated with an

3

TIPPING THE SCALES TOWARD AN ISLAMIC SPIRITUAL MEDICINE …

55

immoral conduct. Further, this is quite an elegant solution, because the Prophet cannot be blamed for not curing a humor-induced ailment. Concerning the function of this passage, the quote from the Hadith affirms Rubin’s argument that one of the aims of the Prophet’s Medicine was to construct Muhammad’s prophethood (dal¯ a il al-nubuwwa) by bringing him in line with the other, pre-Islamic prophets. In the case of miracle healing, the point of reference that comes to mind is Jesus, of course. This proof of prophethood was one reason for the existence of the genre of the Prophet’s medicine (Rubin 2005, 96–97). Rubin bases his thesis on non-canonical Hadith and remarks that, in the development of this genre, Muhammad’s ability to heal was extended to his Companions as mediums and finally to the Quran itself, claiming that one could cure by means of the holy words alone. Thus, healing was no longer dependent on God’s messenger or his Companions, but the divine power as such was transmitted through the holy scripture. Healing, then, becomes possible for the ordinary believer, especially through pertinent Quranic verses (Rubin 2005, 103–105). The healing qualities of the holy scripture appear in Ibn al-Qayyim’s description of exorcism (Szombathy) in the section on epilepsy caused by spirits (arw¯ ah.). Here, he describes a case of exorcism he witnessed with his sheikh (IQ 1979, 52–53). By quoting certain verses from the Quran, such as the Throne verse (¯ ayat al-kurs¯ı Q 2:255) and al-mu awwidhat¯ an (Q 113, 114), by reciting certain formulas such as “In the name of God” and “leave!” (ukhruj ), and finally by physically beating the man, the shaikh made a female spirit leave the body of a possessed person whom Ibn al-Qayyim calls an epileptic (mas.r¯ u ) (IQ 1979, 53–54). If we assume that this shaikh is most probably Ibn Taymiyya (d. 728/1328), a brief look at his understanding of jinn is necessary. Ibn Taymiyya affirms the existence of jinn in his ¯ Id.¯ ah. al-dal¯ ala f¯ı um¯ um al-ris¯ ala due to his scripturalist understanding of the divine texts. He suggests measures against their misconduct that are consistent with Ibn al-Qayyim’s description. An important point in his account is the introduction of exorcism as a medical treatment, which changes the required skills of a physician, as I will argue below. However, let us first focus on Ibn al-Qayyim’s basic conception of “spirit” here. This scene clearly indicates that, for Ibn al-Qayyim, the “spirit” causing epilepsy means possession by jinn, although he does not label them jinn, and that these “spirits” are not merely an internal human faculty.12 Furthermore, an epileptic fit is not a state of direct relation or connection to God or even prophecy, but caused by earthly factors. Therefore, Ibn al-Qayyim

56

F. WESSEL

turns jinn into a means to theologically argue in favor of causation, but against those who stress the role of divine intervention in affliction.13 As mentioned earlier, epilepsy was commonly believed to be caused by jinn (Dols and Immisch 1992, 219). These spirits already appear in the Arabian Peninsula’s pre-Islamic society and were integrated into the Islamic belief system, as they are mentioned in some Meccan verses of the Quran. However, their role differs from their pre-Islamic role. To grasp Ibn al-Qayyim’s understanding of epilepsy, some features of jinn as depicted in this period are particularly interesting here: jinn are demons who move freely through air and space. They are able to change shape and appear as snakes or other animals, but often they are invisible to the human eye. They are also known to occupy places deserted by humans and, interestingly, to inhabit the subterranean world (Dols and Immisch 1992, 215), which again fits Ibn al-Qayyim’s description of the spirits causing epilepsy, as he calls them “evil, earthly spirits.” Together with humans, jinn form the category of al-thaqal¯ ani, “the two weighty ones,”14 meaning that they were imagined as bodily beings like humans who eat, reproduce, and show feelings like love, desire, or anger. They are able to engage in social relations with each other. Yet, interactions with humans are problematic. Jinn are divided into different groups, one of which, the Satans (shay¯ a.t¯ın), are of decidedly evil character. There are many evildoers among jinn, such as Iblis himself, inciting humans to unbelief, polytheism, and sins (Krawietz 2002b, 254). When ill-disposed, jinn can lead believers to heretical practices and even possess their bodies (van Gelder 2017). Interestingly, one way jinn attack humans, according to Ibn Taymiyya, is by overpowering them with an epileptic fit, motivated by desire (shahwa, hawan and ishq) or envy (h.asad) (Krawietz 2002b, 255).15 This remark by Ibn Taymiyya corresponds with Ibn al-Qayyim’s introductory example of the black woman suffering from seizures during which she would undress. Here a jinn¯ı might have caused her behavior, which certainly transgresses the Divine Law. According to Ibn Taymiyya, jinn are endowed with reason and act willfully and knowingly (Krawietz 2002b, 252). Since jinn, too, heard Muhammad’s message, they are divided between believers and unbelievers and can consequently enter paradise (Krawietz 2002b, 254). To achieve this, jinn must obey the Sharia and therefore, humans are called upon to command good and forbid evil (al-amr bil-ma r¯ uf wal-nahy an al-munkar) in relation to jinn, as they are required to do in relation to human believers. Humans should be aware of jinn, in particular of

3

TIPPING THE SCALES TOWARD AN ISLAMIC SPIRITUAL MEDICINE …

57

those doing evil, and protect themselves against the capricious nature of jinn. A disobedient jinn¯ı should be taught to apply divine norms from the authoritative sources. Fighting an evil jinn¯ı has to be carried out in line with the Sharia. Ibn Taymiyya sees protecting oneself against these spirits as the greatest religious struggle. Accordingly, a jinn¯ı is to be confronted with divine incantation and disciplinary measures. These imply resisting, threatening, and cursing it. Beating a possessed person, i.e., an epileptic, is said to harm only the jinn¯ı. One way of repelling a jinn¯ı possessing a human is to write Quranic verses on a paper, wash them off, and dose the possessed with this mixture (Krawietz 2002b, 255–257). What Ibn Taymiyya provides here are orthodox forms of exorcism and magic that we can find also in Ibn al-Qayyim’s writing on the Prophet’s medicine. Therefore, by the end of the chapter on the epilepsy of spirits, Ibn al-Qayyim’s readers have learned that the disease is not accidental, but possibly caused by a lack of belief mediated by jinn and that it is preventable or treatable as described above. Yet, nothing was mentioned about the symptoms and the appearance of the disease. Thus, the author affirms: If the cover were lifted, then you would see the majority of the human souls epileptic through those evil spirits; you would see that they are in their captivity and in their grip; they lead them as they wish, and [for the people,] there is no refuse from them [from the spirits], and no disobedience. And herein lies the biggest epilepsy, which its bearer [the epileptic] cannot wake up from, except by separation and examination, then one can verify that he was truly epileptic. (IQ, 54)

What surprises in this passage is Ibn al-Qayyim’s allegation that the majority of people have epilepsy, and he goes even further by stating “that the disease is spreading so that one sees nothing but epileptics” (IQ 1979, 54). This rather rhetorical description does not allow us to identify any specific symptoms of spirit epilepsy. Although we already know that the state of affliction is caused by a lack of belief in the form of confusion or uncertainty, we do not yet know anything about its symptoms. Since it is not likely that public life in medieval Damascus was characterized by sudden convulsive seizures suffered by the majority of people, this raises the question whether Ibn al-Qayyim is describing epilepsy here at all. One instructive aspect of the relationship between Ibn al-Qayyim’s descriptions of humor epilepsy and spirit epilepsy is the structuring of the

58

F. WESSEL

paragraphs. Following the statement that there are two epilepsies, there is one paragraph on each type of epilepsy. The first paragraph, on spirit epilepsy, describes the religious causes of and the diagnosed spread of the disease, but is devoid of any description of particular symptoms. Only in the chapter on humor epilepsy does Ibn al-Qayyim give a detailed description of pertinent medical symptoms. Thus, it is up to the reader to fill the void left by absent description in the first paragraph with the description of symptoms given in the second and to imagine these as the symptoms of Jinn-induced “epilepsy”. He wants to scare his readers about spiritually caused, but spiritually treatable diseases that are, at the same time, discernable in medical terms and therefore recognized by both medical and religious authorities. Yet, the aforementioned exaggerated claim that the majority of people were afflicted by epilepsy in his time means that the religious scholar wants to rhetorically pathologize what he deemed to result from neglecting the normative demands of the Sharia. According to Ibn al-Qayyim, such behavior paves the way for evil spirits to intrude on negligent believers.

Healing, Physicians, and Religious Scholars A final aspect is the role Ibn al-Qayyim concedes to the physician. In general, he recommends medical consultations in case of ailment, and he acknowledges the danger of unprofessional treatment. Partly, this means accepting medical treatments, as opposed to their total rejection by “hyper-ascetics”. And, as Perho states, the concern of the traditionalist authors of the genre was to diligently emphasize the recommendation of Prophetic tradition that help should be sought from the most proficient, be it a Muslim believer or not. However, Ibn al-Qayyim emphasizes the qualities of the physician and the preconditions for treating epilepsy as follows: “The treatment of this sort consists of two kinds: one on the part of the epileptic and one on the part of the physician; and the one on the part of the epileptic is in the strength of his soul and his orientation toward the Originator and the Creator of these spirits” (IQ 1979, 52). Moreover, Ibn al-Qayyim writes that the healer (mu ¯ alij ) has the means of simply saying, “Get out of him!” (IQ 1979, 52). Ibn al-Qayyim stresses here that the firm belief of the patient and the physician are important for the cure. The curing Ibn al-Qayyim mentions here is “oneness,” meaning the belief in a single God (tawh.¯ıd), trust in God (tawakkul ), and piety or devoutness (taqw¯ a ). As mentioned, Ibn al-Qayyim accepts medical

3

TIPPING THE SCALES TOWARD AN ISLAMIC SPIRITUAL MEDICINE …

59

intervention, but adapts the underlying humoral theory of Graeco-Arabic medical practice by limiting its scope in favor of the prophetic tradition and stressing the religious faith of the treating physician as a precondition for successful healing. Ibn al-Qayyim adds a religious feature to the institution of the physician, who, without a firm knowledge of the divine, cannot grasp the full scope of medical problems. In the end, a full-fledged “good physician” necessarily also comprises technical skills and faith. This is not to completely delegitimize medical qualification, but to strengthen the claim of religion and the position of the religious scholars ( ulam¯ a ). Their authority is expanded and diversified inasmuch as they are important for the teaching of the religious knowledge that the physicians need to acquire. And in combining exorcism with the preservation of religious norms, it is legitimized as part of medical treatment. By accepting certain aspects of medical treatment in a new, religious theory, Ibn al-Qayyim expands the universal claim of Islam to the field of medicine.

Conclusion Prophetic Medicine is more than the religious acknowledgment and legitimization of the techniques of medical healing and medical expertise. As a latecomer genre to Islamic writings, this signifies a delayed, though disguised, incorporation of Greek medical concepts. Ibn al-Qayyim’s creative way of doing this is a feature in all of his writings. By joining the two fields, he succeeds in making his point in a variety of religiously controversial topics. He balances rationalism and religious tradition, not relying solely on rational argumentation. In the case of epilepsy, he uses humoral medicine’s lack of an explanation and of an efficient cure for epilepsy to introduce his religious message. This way, jinn are integrated into a humoral-medical context to explain epilepsy as the believer’s weakness toward jinn resulting from a lack of faith. This argumentation results in the pathologization of disbelief and discredits disbelief as expressed in mere rationalist convictions. This—rhetorical—expansion of “epilepsy” also resonates with the Damascene traditionalists’ view that sinful behavior was gaining ground. With the Prophet’s Companions as a normative point of reference, they saw later social developments in the Muslim community as decaying because of bad innovation (bid a), such as celebrating Muhammad’s birthday or visiting saints’ graves. The Hanbali traditionalists interpreted major historical events, such as the Crusades in Syria and Palestine and the

60

F. WESSEL

Mongol conquest that made its way to Syria after the devastating destruction of Baghdad in 1258, as collective punishment by God. Another example is the plague that struck the Middle East in the mid-fourteenth century. The spread of the Black Death and the lack of a cure for it led to explanations similar to those for epilepsy. Here as well, jinn were seen as transmitters of the disease.16 Hence, people’s fear of divine punishment was a widespread emotional disposition that helped Ibn al-Qayyim when he linked lack of faith with medical explanations of physical ailments. In this way, Ibn al-Qayyim also strengthens the position of the religious Muslim scholar by turning him into a medically relevant authority, while at the same time reducing the prestige of the physician. The latter is not familiar with the “diseases of the heart,” the necessary spiritual remedies, and the intricate workings of evil jinn. As jinn appear in the framework of the sacred texts of Quran and Sunna, they serve as a normative argument that disease can be caused by factors other than God’s immediate interference. The idea of a worldly causation of a disease is presented with an example from the divine sources, since, although jinn appear in the holy texts, they are not part of the divine. Therefore, epilepsy is no longer a sacred illness, because afflictions caused by jinn are not directly caused by God. Concerning the “sacred disease,” Ibn al-Qayyim turns the case in point upside down: sacred and spiritual offerings prevent and treat the disease, while a deficiency of faith causes it. So, neither divine intervention nor a close relation between the afflicted person and the divine causes the disease. Prevention and cure of the disease have to be related to the internal spiritual state of the believer and are achievable through the spiritual means of Islam. As one of these offers, Ibn al-Qayyim advocates leading a life in accordance with the divine law and the example of the Prophet Muhammad. This impact is mundane as it prevents affliction in this world, and it is otherworldly as it affects the fate of the believer in the hereafter. As a result, Ibn al-Qayyim has transformed epilepsy from a disease caused only by humors to an affliction triggered by evil demons to be cured by the sacred means of Islam.

Notes 1. This chapter does not deal with the spiritual medicine of the Shiite imams. 2. On Hanbali methodology and its inherent pragmatism, see Rapoport (2010), 194. 3. Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya, Ibn Muflih., and al-Dhahab¯ı.

3

TIPPING THE SCALES TOWARD AN ISLAMIC SPIRITUAL MEDICINE …

61

4. See Savage-Smith and Pormann (2007, 41–71); for the Prophet’s medicine, see (2007, 71–75 and 150–151); Dols and Immisch (1992, 211–312); and on Prophetic Medicine, Perho (1995, 243–260). 5. Dols, too, indicates that the medicine-related Hadith are relatively few and appeared relatively late (Dols and Immisch 1992, 423). 6. If not otherwise indicated, the development of the genre outlined here is based on Perho (1995, 53–64). 7. While Perho depicts Damascene traditionalists of the thirteenthfourteenth centuries as the peak and, accordingly, these later authors as falling behind the former’s elaborate capacity to blend the two regimes of knowledge, Savage-Smith suggests that the genre underwent two separate developments in different later directions (Perho 1995, 60–61; Savage-Smith 1996, 928). 8. This genre deals with the maintenance of horses and various sorts of equestrian games. 9. In the following, the edition of 1979 is referred to and quoted as IQ 1979. 10. Ahmed Ragab 2009 has presented three such examples of adjustment. 11. Jolin speaks of “the kind caused by evil spirits and the kind caused by humoral imbalance” (1999, 31). The authors of the English edition of the Prophet’s medicine decided to translate .sar  al-arw¯ ah. as “epilepsy that results from negative forces”, thereby obscuring the impact of jinn in epilepsy. 12. Perho interestingly distinguishes between jinn and spirits “that God had created and placed within each man” (1995, 127–128). 13. As Dols and Immisch put it: “for God has created powers in both mankind and the spirits that can influence others” (1992, 256). 14. Q 55:31. 15. On envy, see Krawietz (2002b, 343); Dols and Immisch (1992, 256– 257). 16. On the plague as a punishment, see Dols (1979, 114), and on the transmission of the plague by jinn (1979, 116–18).

Bibliography Bürgel, Johann Christoph. Ärztliches Leben und Denken im arabischen Mittelalter. Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2016. Conermann, Stephan. “Muh.ammad zu Pferde im Kampf: Ein Beispiel für das Genre der Fur¯ usiyya an-nabawiyya während der Mamlukenzeit (1250–1517).” In Mamlukica: Studies on the History and Society of the Mamluk Period, edited by Stephan Conermann, 413–426. Göttingen: V&R Unipress, 2013.

62

F. WESSEL

Dols, Michael W. The Black Death in the Middle East. 2nd print., with corr. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1979. Dols, Michael W., and Diana E. Immisch. Majn¯ un: The Madman in Medieval Islamic Society. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992. Elgood, Cyril. “The Medicine of the Prophet.” Medical History 6, no. 2 (1962): 146–153. Gutas, Dimitri. Greek Thought, Arabic Culture: The Graeco-Arabic Translation Movement in Baghdad and Early Abb¯ asid Society (2nd–4th, 8th–10th Centuries). Reprinted. Abingdon, Oxfordshire: Routledge, 2005. Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya. Al-T . ibb al-nabaw¯ı, edited by Abd al-Ghann¯ı Abd alKh¯aliq. Cairo: al-Maktaba al-Tawf¯ıqiyya, 1979. Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya. Medicine of the Prophet, edited by Penelope Johnstone. Cambridge: Islamic Texts Society, 1998. Ibn Qayyim al-Jawz¯ıyah. The Prophetic Medicine, edited by Abdul Rahman Abdullah. Al-Mansoura, Egypt: Dar Al-Ghadd Al-Gadeed, 2003. Jolin, Paula. Epilepsy in Medieval Islamic History. Unpublished MA thesis, McGill University, Montreal 1999. Keil, Gundolf. “Hippokrates von Kos.” In Enzyklopädie Medizingeschichte, edited by Werner E. Gerabek, 597–598. Berlin, Boston: de Gruyter, 2011. Krawietz, Birgit. “Islamic Conceptions of the Evil Eye.” Medicine and Law 21 (2002a): 339–355. Krawietz, Birgit. “Dschinn und universaler Geltungsanspruch des Islams bei Ibn Taymiyya.” In Islamstudien ohne Ende, edited by Rainer Brunner, 251–259. Würzburg: Ergon-Verl, 2002b. Krawietz, Birgit. “Ibn Qayyim al-Jawz¯ıyah. His Life and Works.” Mamluk Studies Review 10 (2006): 19–64. Langermann, Tzvi. “The Naturalization of Science in Ibn Qayyim alˇ Gawziyyyah’s Kit¯ab al-R¯ uh..” Oriente Moderno 90 (2010): 211–228. Lecker, Michael. “The Bewitching of the Prophet Muh.ammad by the Jews. A Note a Propos ‘Abd al-Malik b. H . ab¯ıbs Mukhtas.ar f¯ı l-T . ibb.” Al-Qantara 13 (1992): 561–569. Nickel, Diethard. “Galenus von Pergamon.” In Enzyklopädie Medizingeschichte, edited by Werner E. Gerabek, 448–452. Berlin, Boston: de Gruyter, 2011. Perho, Irmeli. The Prophet’s Medicine: A Creation of the Muslim Traditionalist Scholars. Helsinki: Finnish Oriental Society, 1995. Ragab, Ahmed. The Prophets of Medicine and the Medicine of the Prophet: Debates on Medical Theory and Practice in the Medieval Middle East. Harvard University, Center for Middle Eastern Studies and Harvard Society of Arab Students. Cambridge, MA, 2009. http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:HUL.InstRepos:472 6204, accessed October 9, 2018. Rapoport, Yossef. “Ibn Taymiyya’s Radical Legal Thought: Rationalism, Pluralism and the Primacy of Intention.” In Ibn Taymiyya and His Times,

3

TIPPING THE SCALES TOWARD AN ISLAMIC SPIRITUAL MEDICINE …

63

edited by Yossef Rapoport and Shahab Ahmed. Karachi: Oxford University Press, 2010. Rubin, Uri. “Muh.ammed the Exorcist: Aspects of Islamic-Jewish Polemics.” Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 30 (2005): 94–111. Savage-Smith, Emilie. “Medicine.” In Encyclopedia of the History of Arabic Science, vol. 3, edited by Roshdi Rashed, 903–963. London and New York: Routledge, 1996. Savage-Smith, Emilie, and Peter E. Pormann. Medieval Islamic Medicine. Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2007. Schallenbergh, Gino. “The Diseases of the Heart: A Spiritual Pathology by Ibn ˇ Qayyim al-Gauz¯ ıya.” In Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk Eras III , edited by Urbain Vermeulen and Jo van Steenbergen, 421–428. Leuven: Peeters, 2001. Szombathy, Zoltan. “Exorcism.” In Encyclopaedia of Islam, Three, edited by Kate Fleet, Gudrun Krämer, Denis Matringe, John Nawas, and Everett Rowson. http://dx-1doi-1org-10078d9af0031.erf.sbb.spk-berlin.de/ 10.1163/1573-3912_ei3_COM_26268, accessed July 6, 2019. van Gelder, Geert Jan. “Foul Whisperings: Madness and Poetry in Arabic Literary History.” In Arabic Humanities, Islamic Thought, edited by Joseph Lowry, 150–175. Leiden: Brill, 2017.

CHAPTER 4

The Physical Reality of Jinn Possession According to Commentaries on the Quran (2:275) Mudhi al-Shimmari

Preliminary Remark on the Editing and Translation of This Text In his contribution, which was originally composed in Arabic in a much longer version of this text, the Saudi Arabian scholar Mudhi al-Shimmari compiled a collection of citations taken from Quranic commentaries in connection with the Quranic verse in (2:75): “Those who take usury (rib¯ a ) will rise [from the grave on the Day of Resurrection and Judgment involuntarily shaking] before God like those whom Satan [as the most evil Jinni] strikes to the ground through beating (yatakhabbat.uhu al-shayt.¯ an min al-mass ).” From a total of 40 Quranic commentaries referring to this particular verse, al-Shimmari investigated the following questions: When

M. al-Shimmari (B) Center for Dawa and Irshad, Ministry of Islamic Affairs, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia © The Author(s) 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4_4

65

66

M. AL-SHIMMARI

a jinn¯ı has entered a human body and taken control of it, in what ways is Satan (shayt.¯ an) linked to the striking down of this human being? Once a jinn¯ı is inside the human body, the second question arises: Whether two souls, the one from the human and the other from the jinn¯ı, can coexist in one and the same human body, and can this jinn¯ı take control of the affected human body? Here the h.ad¯ıth “Satan runs through the blood of humans” is instructive. And finally, in what ways is the expulsion or exorcism of jinn from the human body linked to the well-being of a human? Since Mudhi al-Shimmari’s initial Arabic contribution was too demanding in the context of this edited volume and required a considerable amount of background knowledge of Islamic theology and law, Birgit Krawietz translated bits and pieces from his Arabic text into English, slightly rearranged their sequence, and added a few explanatory remarks, hopefully without interfering with his line of argument, and with the aim of preserving his principle scholarly assumptions.

Introduction to Arabic Terminology and Islamic Concepts The expression “madness” (Arabic: al-mass; literally touching) is related to someone who has been touched by a jinn¯ı (mams¯ us ). This kind of being affected or possessed is also denoted linguistically by the additional, interchangeably used past participles majn¯ un, makhb¯ ul , and malb¯ us , i.e., mad, confused, and enwinded. A jinn¯ı’s physical entering (dukh¯ ul or talabbus ) a human body overpowers the will of the individual human being who is stricken or wrestled to the ground (mas.r¯ u‘ ) and, as a result, is controlled by the intruding force. In this context, the term for epilepsy (s.ar‘ ) is often used to describe the lack of self-control in a state of madness. In a general sense, it also designates all sorts of transgressive behavior.1 Al-H . usayn al-Bagh¯aw¯ı (d. 516 h/1122) and others explain the striking to the ground (khabt.) as “he [Satan] wrestles him [the human] down” (yas.ra‘uhu) and as beating (d.arb) so that the other loses his balance (istiw¯ a ’) (al-Baghaw¯ı, Ma‘¯ alim al-tanz¯ıl f¯ı tafs¯ır alQur’¯ an, 1/340). The late Saudi Arabian scholar Muh.ammad Ibn S.¯alih. al-‘Uthaym¯ın (d. 1421/2001) adds the nuance that being stricken to the ground (takhabbut.) occurs through uncontrollable sudden hitting (d.arb ‘ ashw¯ a’¯ı), “because it overpowers the human being” (yus.allit. ¯ ‘al¯ a Ibn Adam), putting him off guard, “so that it strikes him to the ground” (fa-yas.ra‘uhu) (al-‘Uthaym¯ın, Tafs¯ır al-fat¯ıh.a wal-baqara,

4

THE PHYSICAL REALITY OF JINN POSSESSION …

67

3/374). However, such a physical intrusion by jinn has to be conceptually distinguished from their mere instigation of evil through foul whispering (waswasa).

Consensus Among the People of the Sunna and the Community In the past, Muslims have agreed (ittafaqa) on the existence of the jinn, based on the Book of God and the Sunna of His Messenger, peace and blessings be upon him. The Quran contains a chapter called “the chapter of the Jinn,” Sura 72. It is reported that there was a consensus (ijm¯ a‘ ) on this (e.g., al-Biq¯a‘¯ı, Nuz.um al-durar, 4/111). However, a representative of contemporary Islamic theological and jurisprudential studies, the former Grand Mufti of Egypt and then Azhar Rector Muh.ammad Sayyid T.ant.¯aw¯ı (d. 2010), speaks only of “the majority (jumh¯ ur) of the scholars” (al-Tafs¯ır al-was¯ıt., 1/634). Due to the abundance of evidence (adilla) from the holy sources, no Muslim, irrespective of his group or sect, denies the existence of jinn—except for the Mu‘tazila and the later Qadariyya, another philosophically tinged current. This is not surprising, given their preference of reason (al-‘aql ) over evidence taken from Quran and Sunna. I refer the readers to two famous quotes taken here from the fourteenth-century Syrian author Badr al-D¯ın al-Shibl¯ı: Im¯am al-H . aramayn [al-Juwayn¯ı (d.478/1058)] said: You should know, may God have mercy on you, that many philosophers, a large number of the Qadariyya, and all heretics (al-zan¯ adiqa) completely denied devils (shay¯ a.t¯ın) and jinn. This is not strange for people who are not well guided and do not hold on to the Sharia. However, the Qadariyya’s denial is astonishing given the [authoritative holy] text references (nus.¯ u.s) of the Quran, the wealth of reports [authenticated by widespread transmission] (taw¯ atur ¯ am al-marj¯ al-akhb¯ ar), and the abundance of records. (al-Shibl¯ı, Ak¯ an, 6)

Ab¯u Bakr al-B¯aqillan¯ı (d. 403/1013), too, mentioned their discord on this matter: “In the past (qad¯ıman), many of the Qadariyya affirmed that jinn exist, but now they deny their existence. Some acknowledge their existence [in general], but claim that they are not visible to humans due to the fine texture (riqqa) of their bodies and because ¯ am alrays pass through them (nuf¯ udh al-shi‘¯ a‘ f¯ıh¯ a )” (al-Shibl¯ı, Ak¯ marj¯ an, 7). The Ottoman scholar Ism¯a‘¯ıl H aqq¯ ı al-Istanb¯ u l¯ ı al-Khalwat¯ ı .

68

M. AL-SHIMMARI

(d. 1127/1752), may God have mercy on him, explains the traditional understanding of their entering the human body in the following manner, in which he plays with the linguistic similarity between wind and soul: “Like the wind (r¯ıh.) and the breath moving back and forth (al-nafas al mutaraddid) that is the spirit (r¯ uh.) in our bodies, it is not impossible that they [the Jinn] enter our bodies” (Ism¯a‘¯ıl H uh. al-bay¯ an, 3/150). . aqq¯ı, R¯ However, there is no doubt that the aforementioned rationalist dissenters are only a small and negligible minority that is barely remembered today. In historical perspective, I have not found any doubt about that in the period ranging from the death of the Prophet in the year 11/632, peace be upon him, until the time of Imam Ah.mad Ibn H . anbal (d. 241 h). His son ‘Abdall¯ah said: “I asked my father: Some people claim that the jinn do not enter the human body?! He responded: ‘My son, they lie. He [the jinn¯ı] speaks with his [the human being’s] tongue” (Ibn Taymiyya, Majm¯ u‘ al-Fat¯ aw¯ a, 8/433). ‘Abdall¯ah was evidently surprised by such doubts. This indicates that those people were the first to raise the issue at all, while earlier there had been a consensus that jinn can enter the human body. Later, the Muslim scholar al-Zamakhshar¯ı (d. 538/1144), in particular, addressed that doubt, as I will show below, God willing. That is to say, believing that jinn can intrude on the human body is part of the established theological doctrine (‘aq¯ıda) of “the People of the Sunna and the Community” (ahl al-sunnah wal-jam¯ a‘a) in the tradition of al-Ash‘ar¯ı (d. 324/936) (Maq¯ al¯ at al-isl¯ amiyy¯ın, 1/435; al-Ib¯ ana ‘an u‘ al-fat¯ aw¯ a, us.¯ ul al-diy¯ ana, 1/22; Ibn Taymiyya (d. 728/1328), Majm¯ 24/276; Ibn H aw¯ a al-h.ad¯ıtha, . ajar al-Haytam¯ı (d. 974/1567), al-Fat¯ 1/53); al-Shawk¯an¯ı (d. 1250/1834), Fath. al-qad¯ır, 1/445, and others).

Quranic Exegesis of the People of the Sunna and the Community One of the most powerful proofs the scholars point to regarding the jinn’s taking over of the human body is verse (¯ aya) 275 of the second chapter (s¯ ura) of the Quran, called “The Cow” (al-Baqara). Therein, the Almighty says: “Those who take usury (rib¯ a ) will rise [from the grave involuntarily shaking] before God like those whom Satan strikes to the ground through beating” (yatakhabbat.uhu al-shayt.¯ an min al-mass ). And Ibn Kath¯ır (d. 774/1373) supplements: “that is to say, he rises [on the Day of Resurrection, Day of Judgment] in a bad manner” (yaq¯ umu qiy¯ aman munkaran) (Tafs¯ır al-qur’¯ an al-‘az.¯ım, 1/326).

4

THE PHYSICAL REALITY OF JINN POSSESSION …

69

Leaving aside some seldom-published commentators and authors who were not within my reach, I consulted dozens of Quranic commentaries (sg. tafs¯ır) about this particular verse. It turned out that the smaller portion of them did not tackle the issue of jinn possession in the framework of (2:275), while more than half of the commentaries accepted the verse at face value (‘al¯ a z.¯ ahir al-¯ aya), thus confirming the doctrine of the People of the Sunna and the Community. Contemporary authors, like Ab¯u Bakr al-Jaz¯a’ir¯ı (d. 1439/2018),2 may God have mercy on him, follow this line of reasoning (Aysar al-taf¯ as¯ır, 1/268). Already Ibn H . azm (d. 456/1064) emphasized, “God [explicitly] mentioned the influence of Satan on the person who has turned mad (dhakara ‘azza wa-jalla ta’th¯ır al-shayt.¯ an f¯ı al-mas.r¯ u‘ ), namely by touching (mum¯ assa), so that no one may add anything to that” (al-Fas.l, 5/10). Only three commentaries argued along the lines of the Mu‘tazila, claiming that this statement in the Quran merely reflects the unfounded and superstitious assumptions (maz¯ a‘im) of the Arabs before the advent of Islam. To counter the belief in Jinn, they emphasized that although God Almighty knows better, He addressed them in the Quran in this fashion only in order to accommodate the archaic mindset of people back then and finally guide them to a higher level of insight through gradually understanding His revealed message more properly. However, the majoritarian view is confirmed by famous scholars of the tenth and eleventh centuries, such as Muh.ammad b. Jar¯ır al-T.abar¯ı (d. 310/923) (Tafs¯ır al-T . abar¯ı, 5/38, 41), Ab¯u Ish.¯aq al-Tha‘lab¯ı (d. 427 h/1035) (al-Kashf wal-bay¯ an), Ab¯u al-Muz.affar al-Sam‘¯an¯ı (d. 489/1096) (Tafs¯ır al-al-qur’¯ an, 1/279), and later ones such as al-Suy¯ ut.¯ı (d. 911/1505). Ab¯u Bakr Ibn al-Mundhir al-N¯ıs¯ab¯ur¯ı (d. 319/923) makes it clear that the mentioned “touch” can stem from the devil and the jinn in general (Tafs¯ır Ibn al-Mundhir, 1/51). Ab¯u al-Layth alSamarqand¯ı (d. 373/983) clarifies that the standing up in front of God refers to the Day of Resurrection after humans are raised from their graves (Bah.r al-‘ul¯ um, 1/182). Al-R¯aghib al-Is.fah¯an¯ı (d. 502/1108) likewise takes this verse as a proof of the power of jinn and adds to it, “Satan has an impact on the human, contrary to what the Mu‘tazila claimed when they said that the Devil has only influence (ta’th¯ır) on the human through whispering” (waswasa). This incitement to sinful behavior in the mind or heart of a person is mentioned in the last Sura of the Quran and the Prophetic Hadith: “Satan runs through the human being like his blood.”

70

M. AL-SHIMMARI

‘Izz al-D¯ın Ibn ‘Abd al-Sal¯am (d. 660/1262) (Tafs¯ır al-qur’¯ an, 1/245) adds: Satan strangles him [the human being] (yatakhannaquhu) in this world through touching; that is to say madness [emerges] due to the prevalence of the black [bile] (li-ghalabat al-sawd¯ a ’); hence, it was attributed to Satan because it resembles what he does with regard to his [man’s] entrapment or it is [indeed] a doing of Satan, because it is rationally possible and it is in accordance with the wording of the Quran.3

Ab¯u ‘Abdall¯ah al-Qurt.ub¯ı (d. 671/1272), may God have mercy on him, said: “This verse is evidence that it is invalid to negate [the possibility of] being wrestled to the ground (s.ar‘ ) by jinn and to claim that this is [merely] the deed of natural forces” (t.ab¯ a ’i‘) (al-J¯ ami‘ li-ah.k¯ am alqur’¯ an, 3/355). Obviously, the co-presence of two souls—the soul of human and the soul of the jinn¯ı—in a single human body posed a certain theological problem. Again according to al-Qurt.ub¯ı: Many people repudiated the famous statement of the Prophet, “Satan runs through the human being like his blood” (Inna al-shayt.¯ an yajr¯ı ¯ min Ibn Adam majr¯ a al-dam), declaring it impossible that two souls can be within one body (ah.¯ al¯ u r¯ uh.ayni f¯ı jasad). However, reason does not exclude the possibility that they move through human beings (al-‘aql l¯ a yuh.¯ıl sul¯ ukahum f¯ı al-ins ), because their bodies are of light, simple matter (raq¯ıqa bas¯ıt.a). (al-J¯ ami‘ li-ah.k¯ am al-qur’¯ an, 2/50)

Al-Biq¯a‘¯ı not only relates Satan’s streaming in human blood to a number of h.ad¯ıths, he even mentions reports of the type that the Prophet Muh.ammad “ejected an obsessive jinn force in the shape of a dog from the inside of an afflicted human being” (akhraja al-s.¯ ari‘ min al-jinn min jawf al-mas.r¯ u‘ f¯ı .s¯ urat kalb), etc. (al-Biq¯a‘¯ı, Nuz.um al-durar, 4/111).5 However, this is exaggerated and I object to this latter narrative because it is “weak” (d.a‘¯ıf ) from the viewpoint of critical Hadith scholarship. However, Muslim Quran interpreters like al-Biq¯a‘¯ı are so convinced of the agency of jinn that they even dwelled on cross-religious parallels of affliction with and expulsion of demons and referred to Christian sources and especially the Gospels of Luke and Marcus (al-Biq¯a‘¯ı, Nuz.um al-durar, 4/114). In addition, there is a lot of evidence, especially from the Sunna, that the Prophet Muh.ammad, peace be upon him, was guided by God to shield himself through Quran recitation, especially by taking refuge in its

4

THE PHYSICAL REALITY OF JINN POSSESSION …

71

last two very short Suras (113–114) (al-mu’awwidhat¯ an). The Prophet encouraged pious Muslims to seek spiritual treatment, but an excursion into these h.ad¯ıth reports is outside the scope of this contribution. The outlines of the prominent thirteenth-century author al-Qurt.ub¯ı are followed by the majority of modern Muslim commentators, such as the very influential Yemeni scholar al-Shawk¯an¯ı (d. 1250/1834), who affirms in principle what Ab¯u ‘Abdall¯ah al-Qurt.ub¯ı postulates. Many twentieth-century Quran commentators consulted for the purpose of this chapter and who agreed on the possibility of jinn intrusion are well known and originate from different regions of the Islamic world, like Egypt, India, the Maghreb, the Arabian Peninsula, and the Middle East. Notably the famous Syrian Salafi scholar Jam¯al al-D¯ın al-Q¯asim¯ı (d. 1332/1914) mentions many statements that go against al-Zamakhshar¯ı and his followers. It is astonishing that in some scientific circles the claim is made that al-Q¯asim¯ı rejects human jinn possession (yunkir talabbus aljinn bil-ins )! However, the correct position is that al-Q¯asim¯ı does affirm this possibility (Mah.¯ asin al-ta’w¯ıl, 2/220). The popular Egyptian theologian Muh.ammad Mutawall¯ı al-Sha‘r¯aw¯ı (d. 1418/1998), may God have mercy on him, describes the jinn as follows, raising some rhetorical questions to underline in medical terms the very modern concept of what jinn are doing with human bodies: “They [the jinn] are subtle hidden creatures that have their own special law” (q¯ an¯ un). Although atheist scientific knowledge has habitually questioned the hidden mysteries mentioned by God, its scholars have come up with the notion of creatures called microbes (al-mikr¯ ub¯ at ). Pursuing his argument al-Sha‘r¯aw¯ı further declares: They [the microbes] stem from the category of [real] substance (al-jins ala’¯ıla jiddan). What m¯ add¯ı), namely from clay,6 but they are very tiny (d.¯ does the microbe do? It pervades (yanfudhu f¯ı) the body, while you are not aware of it entering (d¯ akhil f¯ı) your body. And after that, what does it do with your temperature? What does it do in your body? And when the Prophet informs you on God’s behalf, “The devil will run through you like the blood,” hence, what is the contradiction in that? If there were something tiny (d.¯ a’¯ıl ) [stemming] from your material (m¯ adda) about which you do not know how it entered and that you do not feel inside yourself and that then disturbs your balance of temperature and that plays games with your whole body (yum¯ aris al-‘abath bi-kull jismika), so that it puts the white blood cells into turmoil (tah¯ıju) in order to combat it, that

72

M. AL-SHIMMARI

is to say, to get the puss out (tukhrij al-s.ad¯ıd), where is a contradiction then?” (Tafs¯ır al-Sha‘r¯ aw¯ı, 4/1272)

Following up on al-Qurt.ub¯ı and other premodern authors, yet another important Egyptian voice, namely the former Rector of Azhar University, Muh.ammad Sayyid T.ant.¯aw¯ı (d. 1431/2010), argues against Zamakhshar¯ı and his followers who did not acknowledge the reality that epilepsy (s.ar‘ ) and madness (jun¯ un) are caused by satanic force. Furthermore, T.ant.¯aw¯ı quotes an important report mentioned by al-Nawaw¯ı (d. 676/1277) that the Messenger of God, peace be upon him, used to say: O Allah, I seek refuge with You from being thrown from a high place or crushed beneath a falling wall, or drowning or being burned, and I seek refuge with You from being led astray by Satan at the time of death (All¯ ahumma inn¯ı a‘¯ udhu bika min al-taradd¯ı wal-hadm wal-gharaq walh.ar¯ıq, wa-a‘¯ udhu bika, an yatakhabbat.an¯ı ash-shayt.¯ anu ‘inda l-mawt ).

Wrapping up, T.ant.¯aw¯ı states: “The conviction of the pious ancestors of Islam (salaf ) and of the people of the Sunna is that these issues have to be taken as really occurring in the way the Lawgiver (al-sh¯ ari‘ ) reported them.” The reason for that is that “it is not up to us to freely interpret (an nu’awwila) the Quran, disregarding its literal meaning” (z.¯ ahir) (T.ant.¯aw¯ı, al-Tafs¯ır al-was¯ıt. lil-qur’¯ an al-kar¯ım, 1/634).

Rationalist Dissenters from Among the Mu‘tazila Concerning the exact nature of the tempting whispering, Sir¯aj al-D¯ın alNu‘m¯an¯ı (d. 775/1374) relates that question to reports that it “dives deep into the human being” (yagh¯ u.su f¯ı b¯ a.tin al-ins¯ an). He adds: “It is well known that jinn have the ability to influence human beings deep down, but most of the Mu‘tazila denied this” (Lub¯ ab f¯ı ‘ul¯ um al-kit¯ ab, 1/115). Representatives of the rationalist Mu‘tazil¯ı school of thought are known for their stubbornness when it comes to acknowledging the impact of jinn activities. The famous thirteenth-century author al-Qurt.ub¯ı deplores in his Quran commentary: Most of the Mu‘tazilites denied Satans and Jinn. Their denial is evidence of their lack of concern and of the feebleness of their religious convictions (diy¯ an¯ at ). To affirm their existence is not excluded by reason. Passages

4

THE PHYSICAL REALITY OF JINN POSSESSION …

73

of the Quran and the Sunna verify their existence. (al-J¯ ami‘ li-ah.k¯ am al-qur’¯ an, 2/50)

Ibn ‘Arafa al-M¯alik¯ı (d. 803/1401), may God have mercy on him, said after he had quoted al-Zamakhshar¯ı: You should know that the Old Mu‘tazila radically denied the [existence of] Jinn (yunkir¯ un al-jinn bil-as.¯ ala). There is no doubt that it is unbelief, because it belies Quran and Hadith; however, later Mu‘tazilites affirm them (yuthbit¯ unahum) [i.e., acknowledge their existence], but deny [the possibility of] madness/epilepsy (s.ar‘ ) [through Jinn]. (Tafs¯ır Ibn ‘Arafa al-M¯ alik¯ı, 2/767)

We now recall what the Mu‘tazila claim on this matter, and I say, only in God is success. In historical perspective, the early twelfth-century author Ab¯u al-Q¯asim al-Zamakhshar¯ı is the first Muslim scholar recorded as departing from the apparent meaning (z.¯ ahir) of Quran (2:275), when he connected the fact of being struck to the ground by Satan (takhabbut. al-shayt.¯ an) and the phenomenon of epilepsy (s.ar‘ ) or complete loss of self-control to allegations voiced by pre-Islamic Arabs (T.ant.¯aw¯ı, alTafs¯ır al-was¯ıt. lil-qur’¯ an al-kar¯ım, 1/634). Al-Zamakhshar¯ı is followed on this matter by later commentators, such as N¯as.ir al-D¯ın Bayd.¯aw¯ı (d. 685/1290) (Anwar al-tanz¯ıl, 1/162) and Sharaf al-D¯ın al-T.¯ıb¯ı (d. 743/1343) (H ashiyat al-T a al-Kashsh¯ af , 3/542). The problem .¯ . ¯ıb¯ı ‘al¯ with Zamakhshar¯ı’s argumentation is that he relied solely on one argument that is in itself devoid of a convincing religious indicator (dal¯ıl ). Hence, his position was often contested. In general, many Quran interpreters agreed with the first position, which is the saying of the Ahl al-Sunna and those who are in line with them. It is that the jinn indeed enter the human being and possess it. Yet, it is necessary to mention al-Zamakhshar¯ı and the evidence he brings forth. He based his opinion on the single argument: “This is one of the allegations of the [Old] Arabs.” However, it is clear that this argument needs evidence! Instead, it should be emphasized that there is no legal or scientific evidence to deny the possibility of possession by jinn. On the contrary, there are many indicators from the holy sources to support it.

74

M. AL-SHIMMARI

Final Comment of the Author The evidence presented in this book chapter indicates that being touched by jinn is real. A very large number of tafs¯ır scholars agree on this. It is also clear that those who disagree are only a few, and that they have no legitimate evidence. Hence, they cling to something their minds did not understand properly! I have demonstrated that a human being stricken by jinn does not mean that Muslim scholars exaggerate in explaining some diseases as being related to the touch of a jinn¯ı. It is clear that the human mind suffers from many ailments, including what is known in modern medicine and what is still unknown. The “touch” or being overpowered by jinn (mass , .sar‘ ) is only one of these many different types. It can cause an abundance of mental and physical health problems. Among them is the situation that some patients quit treatments based on modern (bio)medicine on the grounds that they are afflicted by jinn. Others recommend a modern biomedical treatment and comply with it. They are treated and receive betterment with God’s will. And there are people who do not believe until their health deteriorates. We are also faced with another problem. Many people refuse psychological treatment thinking that it is for mad people only. However, it should be emphasized that it is a treatment like any other. The mind can get sick just like the body! Therefore, a medically sick person does not improve his health condition through Quran reading or dhikr, but needs to turn to modern biomedical treatment. The diagnosis of certain diseases has been exaggerated, among them the phenomenon of being touched by a jinn¯ı, to a degree that some people seek their cure in myths. Some of the quacks who take money for nothing also believe that. Many people even trust black magic and its charlatans. What those people know can only increase diseases. Many of them make a business out of that. Some of them lie to the sick for the sake of money. And they tell them that their illness necessitates repeated visits. From God we come and to Him we return! God knows best. Blessings on our Prophet Muhammad, and his Family and Companions. Acknowledgments I would like to thank everyone who commented on this text negatively or positively. I welcome readers’ comments at [email protected]. I also thank Annabelle Böttcher and Birgit Krawietz, who invited me to contribute to this volume.

4

THE PHYSICAL REALITY OF JINN POSSESSION …

75

Notes 1. On the ambivalent concept of .sar‘ , see Wessel in this volume. 2. Fiqh scholar, born in Algeria in 1921 and settled in Saudi Arabia; see, e.g., al-Jaz¯air¯ı, Aysar al-Taf¯ as¯ır, 1424/2003, 1:269. 3. For the religious references to humoral medicine that originated in Greece, see Wessel in this volume. 4. The sources transmit a widespread assumption that Jinn may appear in zoomorphic shape, often that of a (black) dog. 5. According to the Quran (3:59), God created Adam from clay or dust (tur¯ ab).

Bibliography al-Ash‘ar¯ı, Ab¯ u al-H al¯ at al-isl¯ amiyy¯ın wa-ikhtil¯ af al. asan Al¯ı b. Ism¯a¯ıl. Maq¯ mus.all¯ın, ed. by Hellmut Ritter, 3rd ed. Wiesbaden: Steiner. 1400/1980. al-Ash‘ar¯ı, Ab¯ u al-H ana ‘an us.¯ ul al-diy¯ ana, ed. by . asan Al¯ı b. Ism¯a¯ıl. Al-Ib¯ Fawqiyya H usayn Mah.m¯ ud, Cairo: D¯ar al-Ans.¯ar, 1397/1977. . al-Baghaw¯ı, al-H ud. Ma‘¯ alim al-tanz¯ıl f¯ı tafs¯ır al-qur’¯ an, ed. . usayn b. Mas‘¯ Muh.ammad Abd All¯ah al-Nimr et al., 4th ed. D¯ar T.ayyiba lil-Nashr wal-Tawz¯ı‘, 1417/1997. Bayd.¯aw¯ı, N¯as.ir al-D¯ın. Anw¯ ar al-tanz¯ıl wa-asr¯ ar al-ta’w¯ıl, ed. by Muh.ammad ‘Abd al-Rah.m¯an al-Marashl¯ı, Beirut: Ih.y¯a’ al-Tur¯ath al-‘Arab¯ı, 1418/1997. al-Biq¯a‘¯ı, Ibr¯ah¯ım. Naz.m al-durar f¯ı tan¯ asub al-¯ ay¯ at wal-suwar. Cairo: D¯ar alKit¯ab al-Isl¯am¯ı, 1404/1984. Ibn ‘Abd al-Sal¯am, ‘Izz al-D¯ın. Tafs¯ır al-qur’¯ an, ed. by ‘Abdall¯ah b. Ibr¯ah¯ım al-Wahhab¯ı, Beirut: D¯ar Ibn H . azm, 1416/1996. Ibn ‘Arafa al-M¯alik¯ı, Muh.ammad. Tafs¯ır Ibn ‘Arafa al-M¯ alik¯ı, ed. by H . asan al-Mun¯a‘¯ı, Tunis: Zayt¯ una University, 1996. Ibn H aw¯ a al-h.ad¯ıtha [n.p., n.d]. . ajar al-Haytam¯ı, Ah.mad. Al-Fat¯ Ibn H u Muh.ammad: Al-Fas.l f¯ı al-milal wal-ahw¯ a’ wal-nih.al. . azm al-Andalus¯ı, Ab¯ Cairo: Maktabat al-Kh¯anj¯ı, 1321/1903. Ibn Kath¯ır, Ab¯ u al-Fid¯a’ Ism¯a¯ıl. Tafs¯ır al-qur’¯ an al-‘az.¯ım, ed. by S¯am¯ı b. Muh.ammad Sall¯ama, 2nd ed. Riyadh: D¯ar T.ayyiba lil-Nashr wal-Tawz¯ı‘ , 1420/1999. Ibn al-Mundhir al-N¯ıs¯ab¯ ur¯ı, Ab¯ u Bakr. Tafs¯ır al-qur’¯ an, ed. by Sa‘d b. Muh.ammad al-Sa‘d. Medina: D¯ar al-Ma’¯athir, 1423/2002. Ibn Taymiyya, Taq¯ı al-D¯ın Ah.mad. Majm¯ u ‘ al-fat¯ aw¯ a, 39 vols., ed. by Abd al-Rahman b. Q¯asim, Riyadh: Majma‘ al-Malik Fahd li-T.ib¯a‘at al-Mus.h.af alShar¯ıf, 1416/1991. Ism¯a‘¯ıl H uh. al-bay¯ an. Beirut: D¯ar . aqq¯ı, Ibn Mus.t.af¯a al-Ist¯anbul¯ı al-Khalwat¯ı. R¯ al-Fikr, 1287/1870.

76

M. AL-SHIMMARI

al-Jaz¯a’ir¯ı, Ab¯ u Bakr. Aysar al-taf¯ as¯ır, 5th ed. Medina: Maktabat al-Ul¯ um waal-H . ukm, 1424/2003. al-M¯award¯ı, Ab¯u al-Hasan ‘Al¯ı. Al-Nukat wal-‘uy¯ un, ed. by al-Sayyid b. ‘Abd al-Maqs.u¯ d, Beirut: Beirut: D¯ar al-Kutub al-‘ Ilmiyya [n.d.]. ¯ al-Nu‘m¯an¯ı, Sir¯aj al-D¯ın ‘Umar b. ‘Al¯ı b. ‘Adil. Al-Lubab f¯ı ‘ul¯ um al-kit¯ ab, ed. ¯ by ‘Adil Ah.mad ‘Abd al-Mawj¯ ud and ‘Al¯ı Muh.ammad Mu‘awwid, Beirut: D¯ar al-Kutub al-‘ Ilmiyya, 1419/1998. al-Q¯asim¯ı, Jam¯al al-D¯ın. Mah.¯ asin al-ta’w¯ıl. Beirut: D¯ar al-Kutub al-Ilmiyya, 1418/1997. al-Qurt.ub¯ı, Ab¯ u ‘Abdall¯ah Muh.ammad b. Ah.mad. Al-J¯ ami‘ li-ah.k¯ am al-qur’¯ an, ed. by Ah.mad al-Bard¯ un¯ı and Ibr¯ah¯ım At.f¯ısh, 2nd ed. Cairo: D¯ar al-Kutub al-Mis.riyya, 1384/1964. al-R¯aghib al-Is.fah¯an¯ı, Ab¯u al-Q¯asim al-H aghib al-Is.fah¯ an¯ı], . usayn [Tafs¯ır al-R¯ ¯ ab, J¯ami‘at.-T.ant.¯a, 1420/1999 and ed. by a group of scholars, Kulliyyat al-Ad¯ Riyadh: D¯ar al-Wat.an, 1424/2003. al-Sam‘¯an¯ı, Ab¯u al-Muz.affar Mans.u¯ r b. Muh.ammad b. ‘Abd al-Jabb¯ar. Tafs¯ır al-qur’¯ an, ed. by Y¯asir Ibn Ghunaym, Riyadh: D¯ar al-Wat.an, 1418/1997. al-Samarqand¯ı, Ab¯ u al-Layth. Bah.r al-‘ul¯ um. Beirut: D¯ar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya, 1413/1993. al-Sha‘r¯aw¯ı, Muh.ammad Mutawall¯ı. Tafs¯ır al-Sha‘r¯ aw¯ı [original title: Khaw¯ a.tir Muh.ammad Mutawall¯ı al-Sha‘r¯ aw¯ı], 20 vols. Cairo: Mat.¯abi‘ Akhb¯ar alYawm, 1418/1997. al-Shawk¯an¯ı, Muh.ammad b. ‘Al¯ı. Fath. al-qad¯ır. Damascus: D¯ar Ibn Kath¯ır and Beirut: D¯ar al-Kalim al-T.ayyib, 1414/1993. ¯ am al-marj¯ al-Shibl¯ı, Badr al-D¯ın Muhammad. Ak¯ an f¯ı ahk¯ am al-j¯ ann, ed. with an introduction by Edward Badeen, revised by the Orient-Institut Beirut, Berlin: Klaus Schwarz Verlag, 2017. al-Suy¯ ut.¯ı, Jal¯al al-D¯ın. Al-Durr al-manth¯ ur. Beirut: D¯ar al-Fikr, 2001. al-T.abar¯ı, Muh.ammad b. Jar¯ır: Tafs¯ır al-T . abar¯ı. Beirut: Muassasat al-Ris¯ala, 1420/2000. T.ant.¯aw¯ı, Muh.ammad Sayyid. Al-Tafs¯ır al-was¯ıt. lil-qur’¯ an al-kar¯ım. Cairo: D¯ar Nahd.at Mis.r, 1418–1419/1997–1998. al-Tha‘lab¯ı, Ah.mad Ab¯ u Ish.¯aq. Al-Kashf wal-bay¯ an ‘an tafs¯ır al-qur’¯ an, ed. ¯ ur. Beirut: D¯ar Ih.y¯a’ al-Tur¯ath al-‘Arab¯ı, by Ab¯ u Muh.ammad Ibn ‘Ash¯ 1422/2002. al-T.¯ıb¯ı, Sharaf al-D¯ın. Al-K¯ ashif ‘an h.aq¯ a’iq al-sunan, ed. by Abd al-H . am¯ıd al-Hind¯aw¯ı. Mecca and Riyadh: Maktabat Niz¯ar Mus.t.af¯a al-B¯az, 1417/1997. al-T.¯ıb¯ı, Sharaf al-D¯ın. Fut¯ uh. al-ghayb f¯ı al-kashf an q¯ın¯ a  al-rayb (H ashiyat .¯  al-T ¯ ıb¯ ı ‘al¯ a al-Kashsh¯ a f ), ed. by Muh ammad Abd al-Rah ¯ ı m. Dubai: J¯a’izat . . . Dubay al-Dawliyya lil-Qur’¯an al-Kar¯ım, 1434/2013. al-‘Uthaym¯ın, Muh.ammad Ibn S.¯alih.. Tafs¯ır al-f¯ atih.a wal-baqara. Dammam: D¯ar Ibn al-Jawz¯ı, 1423/2002. amid. al-tanz¯ıl, 3rd al-Zamakhshar¯ı, Ab¯ u al-Q¯asim. Al-Kashsh¯ af an h.aq¯ a’iq ghaw¯ ed. Beirut: D¯ar al-Kit¯ab al-‘Arab¯ı, 1407/1986.

CHAPTER 5

Battered Love in Contemporary Syria: Shi‘i Spiritual Healing with Abu Ahmad Edith Szanto

Introduction: Religion and/as Magic Getting what you want from God or a saint with a religious vow can take time—months or even years. But sometimes, time is a luxury one cannot afford. When people are desperate and cannot wait for divine goodwill, they may decide to try to get help elsewhere. To this end, they might visit a spiritual doctor, such as Shaykh Abu Ahmad. I met Shaykh Abu Ahmad and his apprentice by accident when I came to Sayyida Zaynab in 2008, where I was conducting ethnographic fieldwork on Muharram rituals and the religious seminaries that support these rites. “Spiritual healing” was not originally part of my research project. In a sense, I happened to simply stumble upon it. I met Shaykh Abu Ahmad’s apprentice, Abu Hasan, who also ran a real estate agency, while I wandered the streets looking for agents who could help me find housing. When I told Abu Hasan about my interest in “popular” religious rituals,

E. Szanto (B) Department of Religious Studies, The University of Alabama, Tuscaloosa, AL, USA e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4_5

77

78

E. SZANTO

he invited me next door and introduced me to Shaykh Abu Ahmad. I did not pursue the topic of spiritual healing any further during that fieldtrip. However, when I returned the following year and asked Abu Hasan to help me find an apartment, I encountered the shaykh again and I asked whether he would allow me to observe him. Having me, a Western woman and doctoral student at the time, in his office clearly lent him legitimacy and prestige in the eyes of neighbors and customers. At times, I was amused and thought him a harmless therapist. At other times, I was convinced that the shaykh was a charlatan taking advantage of traumatized refugees and other poor people. Regardless of what I thought, his clients craved his aid and he was often able to help in one way or another. Following Katherine Ewing’s call for anthropologists to suspend their atheistic disbelief (Ewing 1994), and Amira Mittermaier’s lead in viewing the imagination, or as in this case, the spiritual healing of Abu Ahmad, not as “anchored in the individual subject but instead [as referring] to an intermediary realm between the spiritual and the material… presence and absence” (Mittermaier 2011, 3), I urge the reader to approach the following examples from Abu Ahmad’s work as a believer rather than as an anthropological atheist. Suspending my own disbelief was a constant challenge for me, although I genuinely liked the shaykh as a person. For the longest time, I was convinced that he mainly helped people by giving them sound advice, occasionally manipulating clients into doing what was best for them or into seeing the world in a new and more optimistic way. Unlike a medical doctor or psychologist, he did not simply reveal the actual causes to explain their affliction. Rather, he veiled “reality” by restating the events in such a way that they include jinn. Then he charged clients for exorcising the Evil Eye or an ‘amla, an evil (magical) deed. At least temporarily, he lightened the burden these concealed faults (‘uy¯ ub), posed. Shaykh Abu Ahmad veiled and relieved his clients’ worries with h.ij¯ abs or talismans, for which he used magic number squares. His method of healing involved kashsh¯ af , a diagnostic analysis or revelation, which simultaneously revealed and concealed. Shaykh Abu Ahmad’s magic is an example of Michael Taussig’s definition as “a skilled revealing of skilled concealment” (Taussig 2006, 121–155). The shaykh’s intervention had two social functions: It restored Muslim bodies and lives, and it reified normative views of the role of jinn. In this chapter, I examine the role spiritual healers and jinn play in society and how they relate to the sphere of religion. I begin by analyzing the relationship between religion and magic, then I describe the shaykh’s

5

BATTERED LOVE IN CONTEMPORARY SYRIA …

79

space. Next, I tell two stories: one about averting divorce and the other about an attempt to make a former lover return. The first treatment achieved its stated goal; the second did not. Both, however, resulted in healing broken hearts and mending social relations. Spirits are part of the healing process, part of the stories.

Magic and Religion In Syria and Iraq, spiritual healers are not a topic to be discussed in polite company, as Katja Sündermann has already noted (Sündermann 2006, 24). Yet, the belief in spiritual healers, as well as jinn and the efficacy of magic, nevertheless remains widespread (Fartacek 2002). The Iranian President Ahmadinejad, for instance, was accused in 2011 of participating in black magic in order to win the election (Shuster 2011). Despite the stigma, acquaintances started telling me more about their experiences with jinn and spiritual healing once they knew I was interested in the topic. There were several pious seminary students who came to Shaykh Abu Ahmad for help and advice. While spiritual healing and the existence of jinn per se was never addressed at the seminaries I attended in the shrine town of Sayyida Zaynab, dozens of books for sale at seminary bookstores were concerned with the topic. Abu Ahmad in turn employed religious symbols, rituals, and language in his practice. Abu Ahmad was a roughly 65- to 70-year-old man from Baghdad, which meant he could be from anywhere. He said he had studied at an institute that had since closed and had undergone self-disciplinary exercises, such as not eating meat and not talking to other people for extended periods. He was tall, lean, and always dressed in a white dishd¯ asha, the white garments older Iraqi men wear along with traditional headgear. He claimed to have four wives, though only one resided in Syria with him. The shaykh always began his ceremonial treatment by invoking two Quranic passages. First, he affirmed the existence of jinn. “We are not alone in this world. In the Quran, the Lord says, ‘and I have not created jinn and men except to worship Me.’1 Ah ha! Notice! Jinn and humans!”2 Next, Abu Ahmad highlighted that belief in the existence of black magic (sih.r) is part of Islam, because the Quran explicated that humans were taught magic by angels. To this end, he quoted the second Surah of the Quran, Surat al-Baqarah, verse 102:

80

E. SZANTO

They [the people of the Book: Jews and Christians] followed what the evil ones gave out (falsely) against the power of Solomon: the blasphemers were not Solomon, but the evil ones, teaching men Magic, and such things as came down at Babylon to the angels Harut and Marut. But neither of these taught anyone (such things) without saying: “We are only for trial; so do not blaspheme.” They learned from them the means to sow discord between man and wife. But they could not thus harm anyone except by Allah’s permission. And they learned what harmed them, not what profited them. And they knew that the buyers of (magic) would have no share in the happiness of the Hereafter. And vile was the price for which they did sell their souls, if they but knew!3

For Shaykh Abu Ahmad, the verse proved that magic is an ancient, originally divine practice. Jinn, angels, and saints—all act in this world and it is possible to interact with them. While he invoked the veracity of magic as a whole, he also assured clients that he only practiced white magic (ruqya), which he claimed was Islamically legitimate, because it aimed to help people.

Religion and the Shrine Town Shaykh Abu Ahmad was concerned with questions of religious authority. His attention to the matter reflected the wider social discourse on religious authority. He lived and worked in the shrine town of Sayyida Zaynab, a suburb located roughly 15 km south of Damascus. The town housed the shrine of Sayyida Zaynab, the granddaughter of the Prophet, who came to Syria after having witnessed the Battle of Karbala in 680 CE, in which her brother, the third Imam, Imam al-Husayn, was martyred. Shi‘is continue to ritually mourn the death of al-Husayn every year during Ash¯ ur¯ a , of the Islamic month of Muh.arram. To Shi‘is, the tenth day, ¯ Zaynab is a hero because, even though she came to Damascus as a captive, she stood up to Yazid, the Ummayyad Caliph, and “spoke truth to power.” She then passed on the story of Karbala and initiated the performance of commemorative mourning rituals (Szanto 2013, 76). Zaynab, the saint, became especially popular in Iran following the Iranian Revolution of 1979 and is central to Hezbollah sympathizers in Lebanon, because she represents “revolutionary fervor” (Aghaie 2004, 114–130). Her shrine and the town became a major site for Iranian and Lebanese Shi‘i pilgrims after the Iraqi shrines of the first Imam ‘Ali, the third Imam al-Husayn, and his half-brother, Abu Fadl al-‘Abbas, became

5

BATTERED LOVE IN CONTEMPORARY SYRIA …

81

inaccessible in the 1970s and’80s, after Ba‘th forces violently clashed with Shi‘is in Karbala (Farouk-Sluglett and Sluglett 1987, 198). Manuscripts note the existence of a shrine south of Damascus as early as the thirteenth century (Zimney 2007). However, until the twentieth century, no town had grown around her shrine. Several events set the process of urbanization in motion. The first was the support of Sayyid Muhsin al-Amin, the Shi‘i mujtahid, or Islamic authority, of Damascus until his death in 1952.4 Sayyid al-Amin called upon Shi‘is all over the world to support and donate to the elaboration, expansion, and embellishment of the shrine in order to help the local Shi‘i community flourish. Second was the establishment of a Palestinian refugee camp just west of the shrine in 1948. In 1967, Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) forced out of the Golan Heights were also settled in that area, just north of the Palestinian camp. In the 1970s, Afghan Shi‘is who had been studying at the seminaries of Karbala and Najaf in Iraq had to flee and came to Sayyida Zaynab, where Sayyid Hasan Shirazi founded the first seminary. During the Iran-Iraq war in the 1980s, the debilitating sanctions on Iraq in the 1990s, and following the violence that ensued after the American War on Iraq in 2003, the number of Iraqi Shi‘is steadily increased in Syria, and many of them came to live as well as study in the shrine town of Sayyida Zaynab. Twelver Shi‘ism was an important aspect of the shrine town, especially considering that Shi‘is constituted only around three percent of the general Syrian population, and even in Sayyida Zaynab, not everyone was Shi‘i.5 However, what they shared was the common trauma of forced displacement. Poverty and petty crime were as much a part of the shrine town as pious learning and religious tourism. Ousted politically ambitious Iraqi and Iranian men lived and were buried in Sayyida Zaynab, including the political philosopher ‘Ali Shari‘ati. From the early 1980s on, seminaries multiplied, and by 2008, there were dozens of religious schools. Numerous distinguished scholars opened offices that provided Shi‘is with religious guidance and charity and accepted donations. The famous Lebanese Ayatollah Fadlallah, who passed away in 2010, for example, visited the shrine town and his institute there every two weeks until the Israeli-Lebanese war in 2006. Ayatollah Khomeini and his successor ‘Ali Khamenei patronized the most prestigious seminary in Sayyida Zaynab, and the Friday sermon at the shrine’s prayer hall was held in their name. In short, Shi‘ism and a shared sense of a history of collective suffering permeated the town.

82

E. SZANTO

Shaykh Abu Ahmad Abu Ahmad is neither a Syrian nor a native of Sayyida Zaynab. Rather, he was one of the hundreds of thousands of Iraqis who fled Iraq in 2003. He had been living in Baghdad, but was from a poor, rural background. Details of his personal history, however, were hard to come by. He was always evasive when asked about his past, as were many Iraqis living in Syria at the time. Having witnessed brutal governmental oppression and war, he continued to live in fear. Abu Ahmad was secretive about everything except his children’s prosperity. He would recount often that his ten children from multiple wives lived in large houses with cars and families of their own. He presented the success of his children as proof of having found divine favor in exchange for helping people. He said he attended an institute to study spiritual healing in Iraq, but did not reveal its location. He instead emphasized his own autodidacticism through reading books, such as the reprint of Shams al-shum¯ us, a 127-page edited manual penned by Ahmad Abu al-Qasim al-Iraqi, which the author’s preface calls a tried and true collection drawn from ancient works (Abu al-Qasim al-Iraqi 2009). Another practice Abu Ahmad described as crucial for attaining his ability to see and hear jinn was a lengthy vegetarian fast held in complete solitude. His card read in Arabic, “Research and Information about Natural Herbs,” and the subtitle read, “Treatment for female infertility and other illnesses and cupping and ruqya shar iyya.” Ruqya shar iyya roughly means “Islamically acceptable incantation.” Hans Wehr’s dictionary translates ruqya as “spell, charm, magic; incantation” (Wehr 1994, 355). According to the German Islamic Studies scholar Sabine Dorpmüller, ruqya is a generally permitted form of “magic,” as it uses Quranic verses for incantations to heal patients and loved ones (Dorpmüller 2005, 4–5). The main meaning of the verb from which the term ruqya derives is to ascend or progress both spatially and intellectually. Similarly, Abu Ahmad conceived of himself as someone who helped people progress in life. Abu Ahmad routinely utilized herbal homeopathic treatments, istikh¯ ara (a practice aimed at helping someone decide a course of action), and the use of “natural magic,” such as wearing rings with special stones. By adding the adjective shar iyya (or shariacompliant) and by listing ruqya alongside other treatments, Abu Ahmad and Abu Hasan advertised orthoprax Islamic healing. Abu Ali was one of several at.ibb¯ a’ r¯ uh.¯ aniyy¯ un, or “spiritual doctors” in the shrine town of Sayyida Zaynab who helped their clients using similar

5

BATTERED LOVE IN CONTEMPORARY SYRIA …

83

methods. Going to a spiritual doctor was generally not seen as socially commendable, but many inhabitants still visited such doctors. According to Sündermann, spiritual healers are quite common in Damascus, but are less socially acceptable there than in Cairo or Fez (Sündermann 2006, 24). Spiritual doctors belonged to and worked for all religious and social groups in Syria. There were Sunni and Shi‘i spiritual healers, Palestinians, Syrians, and Iraqis. Healers were portrayed in film and in popular discourse, ranging from pious angels in human form to devils in clerical disguise. Their degree of piety was not linked to their efficacy, but was an indicator of moral stature. What spiritual doctors in Syria shared was their stated purpose to help people. They also shared a reputation for being mysterious, powerful, and possibly maleficent.

The Place: The Clinic I arrived in Damascus on the last day of Ramadan in 2009. The next day, Id al-Fit.r), which was the first day of The Festival of Breaking the Fast ( ¯ I visited my friend Amal, whom I knew from the Zaynabiyya seminary, bearing gifts and sweets. We met at her parents’ home in the Palestinian camp, just to the West of Sayyida Zaynab’s shrine. Her husband was on Id with her family. We were catching up a business trip, so she spent the ¯ over tea when her mother rushed in with bad news: “Abu Muhammad wants to divorce Amina [Amal’s younger sister] after the ¯ Id!” And after a short pause, she added: “Do you know a shaykh [a wise man or a magician] who can stop him?” The next day, Amina brought her two small children to Amal’s home, where the children’s grandfather agreed to babysit the toddlers so that Amina, her mother, Amal, and I could visit Shaykh Abu Ahmad.6 Shaykh Abu Ahmad welcomed us at the door of his clinic ( iy¯ ada), located at the end of a long, lower working-class market. His clinic was a small, narrow room at the end of a short corridor leading past a toilet and a storage room. Dark and cramped, it lacked any grandiose or luxurious amenities. Abu Ahmad seated us on low, threadbare sofas and then left us to make Arabic coffee. The clinic’s arrangement was a cross between a traditional sitting room (majlis ) and a professional office, though the furniture was too worn out to be either. At the head of the small consultation room stood the doctor’s desk. From his desk facing the entrance, the doctor could preside over his clients, who would sit facing each other on ragged couches pushed up against the walls of the clinic. The spatial

84

E. SZANTO

organization ensured that clients sought out the shaykh, who sat in a position of power: facing the door, with a solid wall at his back. He sat on an elevated seat, behind a desk. His seat was a little higher than the low couches on which visitors sat. Behind him, several bookshelves stacked with books, various bottles with medicine, measuring cups and tapes, and incense lined the wall. In lieu of a framed degree, these tools of his trade lent the doctor an air of sophistication, authority, and medical expertise. On the walls, he had had written numbers and magic symbols and had hung religious pictures. Beginning with Quranic verses, Shaykh Abu Ahmad bolstered his religious legitimacy by invoking the names of the fourteen Infallibles, who are central to Shi‘ism, in his prayer-spells.7 He prayed regularly and visibly; he wore “traditional clothes,” meaning a white ankle-length robe (dishd¯ ashi) and a red and white checkered head cloth (k¯ ufiyya). While waiting for clients, he listened to Basim Karbalai, a young singer famous for Muharram mourning songs, on his phone.8 Posters on the walls depicted the Infallibles, the Kaaba in Mecca, and the shrines of Zaynab and Imam al-Husayn. His use of pious language, his style of clothing, and his display of religious symbols all enhanced his respectability and buttressed his legitimacy in the eyes of his clients and guests. Abu Ahmad claimed to have visited most of the Infallibles’ burial places. He had been to Qom and Mashhad in Iran, visited all the Iraqi shrines, and gone on a pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina (h.ajj ). He invited belief and hope when he retrieved pieces of blessed green cloth from his desk drawer. He had taken it with him on his visits to shrines in Iran and Iraq and cut off pieces for clients as blessed, divine material vehicles of God’s love and force. Shaykh Abu Ahmad laid claim to secular forms of prestige by employing modern technology and invoking both Western medical practices and Quranic remedies. For instance, he used cell phones to divine and cast spells for customers from abroad. Sometimes, he kept a video monitor on his desk and for a few months he even had a working, albeit ancient, computer. He admitted to me that he did not need it. He displayed it only to impress customers. His healing practices blended “modern” and “traditional” techniques.9 He prescribed Omega 3 pills for painful knees and wet cupping for back pain. On some days, he presented himself as a modern Shi‘i by decrying tat.b¯ır, which is a bloody form of self-flagellation that is often labeled “traditional” and “backward” (Szanto 2013, 76–77; Deeb 2006, 135–137). Overall, it was important for him to appear as a devout Muslim, a respectable elder, and a knowledgeable doctor.

5

BATTERED LOVE IN CONTEMPORARY SYRIA …

85

The Process: The Diagnosis Abu Ahmad treated his clients with generous hospitality, like guests whom he sought to impress. He offered cigarettes and lit incense. As he moved around, arranging coffee and incense, his long moments of absence encouraged clients to talk, to reveal their troubles, and their stories. The shaykh listened, moving in and out of the room throughout. When he finally settled down in his chair, he carefully constructed his assessment. He spoke with Amina about her own character, her past, her husband, their life, and their problems. He always initiated this kind of life history slowly, in generic terms, so as to evoke comments: leading, correcting, and backing up his broad assertions. In his investigation of Amina’s life and problems, the shaykh inquired about her social and familial relationships. What was his prognosis? The source of all her troubles was her mother-in-law. Amina’s parents and her in-laws were neighbors in the Palestinian camp. And as neighbors, they occasionally fought. Moreover, after Amina and her husband moved out of his parents’ home, the mother-in-law felt bitter. According to her, Amina had stolen her son and abandoned her household duties. Amina suspected that her mother-in-law wanted her son to divorce so that he would marry another, more subservient woman. To test his hypothesis, the shaykh used the client’s body as a proof of having been influenced by jinn. To accomplish this, Abu Ahmad employed what he called kashf , meaning research, revelation, examination, and exposure (Wehr 1994, 289). First, he asked her to stretch out her right hand. Then, the shaykh began reciting incantations in Syriac, the language of the jinn. He mixed these invocations with Quranic verses, recited in Arabic, along with the names of each of the fourteen Infallibles. Next, Shaykh Abu Ahmad took an approximately one-foot-long, blunt sword from its hanger on the wall behind him. He tapped his client on the head with the side of the blade and traced her body’s silhouette from top to bottom, first on the right and then on the left. He explained that jinn dislike metal and can thus be forced to manifest themselves in its proximity. Focusing on the client’s right arm, which he told her to hold stretched out and palm up in midair, he commanded the jinn to move the hand if a spell had been cast on the client. In such cases, the shaykh declared jinn to be the cause of the involuntary movement. By moving the client’s arm, the jinn used it to communicate with the shaykh and confirm that the client had been possessed. The shaykh then addressed

86

E. SZANTO

the client, asking her whether she knew who the possible perpetrator might be. Clients were often more than willing to point their fingers at a close relative or neighbor. There were rare instances when Abu Ahmad declared a client free from spells. In such a case, he suggested that the client was probably simply afflicted by someone’s unintentional but nevertheless harmful, jealous Evil Eye. In both situations, Abu Ahmad fed their fears and affirmed their suspicions. In a sense, he never presented clients with new or outside information. He waited for his clients to reveal their concerns over coffee and ensured that their own bodies convinced them of the truth of their suspicions. The client revealed her own truths and bore witness to them by observing herself. She was simultaneously the victim, the proof, the witness, and the detective (Johansen 2001). She had the answer all along. The doctor was simply the facilitator. Amina was quickly convinced that her mother-in-law was the cause of all of her troubles. But how could she solve this problem? Ceremoniously, the shaykh took out a red pen and paper and wrote a h.ij¯ ab, a magic formula or talisman consisting of magic squares. He placed the paper in a glass and poured water over it. He handed the glass to Amina and had her drink it. “This will clean out some of the dirt (naj¯ asa).” The mother-in-law’s curse, like most maleficent spells, involved feeding ritually impure substances like menstrual blood to the victim. These impurities not only affected the curse, but also caused the victim to suffer from headaches and backaches. “Do you feel better?” the shaykh inquired, once Amina had drunk the entire glass. “I do,” she affirmed. Taking the wet paper out of the glass and placing it in a clear plastic bag, he instructed her: “Soak the paper in water and make sure your husband drinks it every day for the next three days.” He also told her to read the entire Quran in the coming three days and warned her not to react with anger, regardless of what her husband might say to her. She was to remain calm no matter what.10 In the end, Amina’s husband did not divorce her after the Eid as he had threatened. However, the idea that her mother-in-law hated her enough to put a spell on her prevented her from relaxing entirely. The shaykh said he would be able to remove the curse, but it would cost her more than her husband earned in a month. In other words, there was no way she could remove the curse and solve her problems once and for all. Though she was not pleased with the prospect, she was certain the problem would resurface again in the future and that she would then have to return to Abu Ahmad. Amina’s hostile relationship with her mother-in-law guaranteed

5

BATTERED LOVE IN CONTEMPORARY SYRIA …

87

that the work of the shaykh would always remain unfinished. In this way, the relationship between the patient and her doctor continued. Whenever something negative happened, she would blame her mother-in-law and return to the shaykh.11 There is no permanent solution for the problem of curses. Once afflicted, a victim continues to require protection, a form of h.ij¯ ab. These usually consist of magic squares written on paper, folded into a triangle and then sown into fabric. In some cases, stones were inscribed with magic squares. Originally, the numbers arranged in squares represented both “mathematical games” and ab, powerful symbols.12 These magic squares could be written on paper h.ij¯ on stones worn as jewelry, or even on gold rings. Different squares serve different purposes. A woman giving birth was shown a particular magic square in order to ease the labor. Other squares numerically symbolized various names of God, such as Hafiz, the Preserver (Schimmel 1993, 32– 33). The most common kind of square was the 3 × 3 square, which used the digits 1–9 and whereby each horizontal, diagonal, or vertical set of three numbers added up to 15. Abu Ahmad used the 3 × 3 square as well as the 9 × 9 square. He often employed the latter for love magic. Abu Ahmad had written 66 in the middle of each of his four walls with the explanation that the number 66 represents the numerical value of Allah. The magic squares were used to create a sacred barrier, which repelled jinn and attracted angels. Abu Ahmad first diagnosed and then helped Amina by concealing and revealing what was going on. He shifted the blame to the mother-inlaw and away from the couple themselves. Notably, the husband had no agency in Abu Ahmad’s analysis. The problem lay between Amina and her mother-in-law. Amina accepted this at least in part because it was such a prevalent assumption that mothers-in-law want to harm their sons’ wives. Of course, the fact that her parents and her in-laws were neighbors meant that their close living arrangement inevitably led to drama, which had to remain concealed for the sake of propriety.

Metaphoric Restoration The anthropologist Michael Taussig argues that the power of magic resides in both its secrecy and its skilled exposure (Taussig 2006, 121– 155). The spiritual doctor Shaykh Abu Ahmad both revealed and hid certain truths from his patients. Similarly, clients revealed some truths,

88

E. SZANTO

while they hid others. Occasionally, both the doctor and his patients spoke in riddles or in code. The truth was not always sought, and it was not always the truth that healed. What brought about healing was ritual purification. Amina was purified by drinking water that had touched a talisman. Others needed even exorcism. One evening, a twenty-one-year-old Palestinian woman came to ask the shaykh about a recurring strange dream and to ask him to foretell her future. In her dream, a young woman was kissing and caressing the dreamer, but then after a period of lovemaking, the woman began to beat the dreamer and drag her by her hair. She asked Abu Ahmad: “What does it mean? And will I be successful if I leave my parents’ home and live alone?” Abu Ahmad told her she should stay with her family and that someone had cursed her. As a result, a Jewish jinn was making her life difficult. Jinn can belong to any religion, like humans. Given prevalent anti-Jewish sentiments, it is not difficult to understand that in this context being possessed by a Jewish jinn¯ı automatically meant she was possessed by a malevolent, dangerous, and scheming jinn¯ı. For 2000 Lira, approximately 40 USD, he would exorcise the jinn and restore peace in her family. The sum was two-thirds of her monthly salary at the factory, but she was willing to pay if it meant her parents and her eight brothers would leave her alone. While Abu Ahmad left the room to pray, she told me she wanted to move to Latakia, a predominantly ‘Alawi city on the Mediterranean coast.13 When Abu Ahmad returned, she admitted to having sexually charged dreams at night. In one of her dreams, a woman first pleasured her and then beat her on her back. She had suffered from back problems ever since. To ease her pain, the shaykh massaged her shoulders. As if pleading with the shaykh, she repeated: “Will I be okay if I leave my family?” The shaykh responded by demanding 2000 Lira, and he became angry when she said she did not have any money with her. “If I bring you the money tomorrow, are you sure that everything will get better?” He assured her that his craft would work and sent her home.14 Once she was gone, I confronted Abu Ahmad: “Seriously, a Jewish jinn¯ı is causing problems between her and her family? It makes no sense!” The spiritual doctor closed the door and spelled out his reading of the situation: “She had an ‘Alawi boyfriend and they had anal sex.15 That is why she is having dreams of sex with a woman [i.e., non-vaginal sex].” The woman in the client’s dreams symbolized a relationship with someone who would never be a socially acceptable or legally possible

5

BATTERED LOVE IN CONTEMPORARY SYRIA …

89

spouse. For many Sunnis, ‘Alawis are not considered true Muslims, and Sunni women cannot marry non-Muslims. The young man’s family would consider such a marriage to a Palestinian woman a steep step downward religiously, socially, and financially. “She wants to marry him. But he is laughing at her.” The young woman in her dream represented her boyfriend. Their initial time was pleasurable to both, though it constituted a suppressed and banned form of sex—lesbian sex. Her relationship with her boyfriend had similarly been a forbidden fruit that could not last, because social differences would ultimately undermine their love. Worst of all, the fact that her lesbian dream lover always ended up beating her meant that her lover ultimately inflicted pain on her. Similarly, the young man who had decided that he would not marry her had hurt her. She felt used. Her brothers were now trying to make her marry someone else, while she just wanted to run away. By not revealing the whole truth to his client, the shaykh veiled it and made it solvable. He intended to charge her a sizable but affordable sum. It would allow her to feel as if she could enact agency within the social boundaries of her life. In short, Abu Ahmad’s spiritual healing consisted of first identifying and then veiling a socially unacceptable truth, such that it could be addressed and solved. Such a ritual would give the woman a symbolically disguised sense of closure and restoration. Here, language itself functions as a veil for “the facts”. Her shameful misdeeds can be addressed without having to reveal them. According to Edward Badeen and Birgit Krawietz, a similar logic was applied by Badr al-Din al-Shibl¯ı, the famous fourteenth-century Syrian jurist, in his book discussing marriage between humans and jinn. Badeen and Krawietz begin by pointing out that many modern scholars of Islam are uncomfortable with questions of the occult in pre-modern Islamic texts, and particularly with how to address al-Shibl¯ı’s elaborate treatise on jinn-human relations. After summarizing al-Shibl¯ı’s thorough explication, they analyze his conclusion: Since marriage between jinn and humans does not bring about companionship, the ultimate purpose of marriage, the only reason humans would enter into such marriages is because they are being forced to by aggressive jinn. Al-Shibl¯ı’s final chapters of this work focus on the dangers of encountering jinn. Among other sections, there is one on how to legally treat a wife whose husband has been abducted by a jinniyya. For Badeen and Krawietz, al-Shibl¯ı hereby demonstrates a case in which a marriage with jinn becomes a socially useful claim, especially should the husband come back and resume family

90

E. SZANTO

life. Needless to say, however, there are limits to the kinds of misdeeds that can be veiled by stories of encounters with jinn (Badeen and Krawietz 2002).

Transgressing Love “Black magic separates man and wife, while white magic is that which reunites man and woman,” Abu Ahmad would often say. Love magic, in other words, was doctrinally acceptable and not sinful. Yet, sometimes, the love magic failed. When Shirin, a thirty-year-old professional Damascene, found out that her boyfriend of seven years had ended their relationship in order to marry a much younger blond woman, she was devastated. “After all I did for him! I helped him establish his business and worked my personal contacts in order to support him. But I know why he is doing it! He wants a young, stupid girl who will look up to him with awe!” A few days later, he called her to inform her that the wedding date was set. She was inconsolable, having waited for years for him to establish himself financially, so they would be able to get married, buy a house, and have children. And now he had left her a spinster. Unable to go to work or function normally, she came to Shaykh Abu Ahmad one morning for help, which he was willing to offer for 6.000 Lira (ca. 120 USD).16 The first step Abu Ahmad always took was to ascertain whether his patient was cursed. He asked her to stretch her arm out in front of her, palm up, and then he recited an invocation. If the patient’s arm became tired and was lowered for several minutes, she was cursed. In Shirin’s case, the shaykh diagnosed a severe case of affliction by the Evil Eye. To heal her, he wrote Quranic verses on paper, which he inserted in a glass of water. He sprayed some of the water on her and had her drink the rest. Next, he wrote a magic square on her right palm with a red pen and then wrote the same square on a sheet of paper, which he folded into a triangle and taped shut. He told her to keep this h.ij¯ ab on her and wear it near her heart inside her bra. The shaykh tended to Shirin for almost two hours, asking her questions and drawing her out. He inquired about her relationship with her former boyfriend, such as whether they had been physically intimate. Several cigarettes and cups of coffee later, he divined her future. He told her she would lead a natural life, something I often heard him tell women. The shaykh assured Shirin that one day she would go on the pilgrimage

5

BATTERED LOVE IN CONTEMPORARY SYRIA …

91

to Mecca and Medina. He determined her astrological sign, not by her birth date but by calculating the numerical value of her first name and her mother’s first name. Hence, he told her she was not an Aries but a Cancer and then proceeded to read her astrological profile to her from a book. Getting ready for lunch, Abu Ahmad sent Shirin home and told her to return after the evening prayer. He would prepare “work” for her in the meantime. When Shirin came back to the shaykh’s consultation room that night, he treated her to more coffee and asked her how she felt. She already felt better, hopeful, and purposeful. She now had a goal and felt less helpless. She was able to smile and laugh at his jokes. He gave her six paper cones filled with incense, which would invoke jinn, and another h.ij¯ ab, which she was to wear for the next two weeks. She put this one in her bra as well. The shaykh instructed Shirin to burn one cone every three days just before sunset. The heavens were open then and jinn and angels could work on her behalf. However, before burning them, he told her to read half of S¯ urat al-Zalzala three times and then a short prayer that he wrote out for her. The following evening, Abu Ahmad called her to see if she had burned the first cone before sunset. She reported that she had been too scared to do it alone and she came back to his consultation room the next evening in order to perform the first installation of “love magic” with him in attendance. The shaykh’s work was never complete in one sitting. It always required repeated contact and allowed for a delayed outcome. Shirin’s boyfriend married the other woman and never returned to Shirin, who in the meantime has left Syria and become a refugee in Europe, where she eventually married and had a son. The magic did not work to reunite her with her boyfriend. However, the treatment did help her in the sense that it allowed her to overcome her anger, helplessness, and feelings of devastation. It allowed her to exercise some form of control over her destiny, so that she was able to return to normal daily activity. She once again started taking care of herself and seeing her friends. The spell was supposed to take effect in a month to six weeks, which gave her time to recover from her shock.

Encountering Jinn What is a jinn¯ı, according to Shaykh Abu Ahmad? Jinn are creatures, similar to humans in that they were created to serve God. They are

92

E. SZANTO

capable of free will, good, and evil. But they can travel long distances in a split second and can make themselves invisible. They are supposedly less intelligent than humans, but live much longer. Most importantly, they can interact with humans, often taking the form of a pact or collaborative work. They can interact with humans in dreams. Jinn can also have long-term relationships with human individuals. But when they serve humans, they demand something in return. Any relationship with them would have to be reciprocal. According to Abu Ahmad, humans can have sexual relationships with jinn.17 If someone who is of marriageable age but is unwilling to get married or if the parents have difficulties finding a spouse for her or him, a possible cause is that the person in question is already in a sexual relationship with a jinn¯ı or jinniyya and is afflicted by erotic dreams. The jinn are assumed to be jealous and as such will sabotage the marriage negotiations and wedding plans.18 In this case, reciprocity with the jinn must be broken rather than established. Abu Ahmad writes a “cover” or h.ij¯ ab for the protection of the dreamer. The existing reciprocal arrangement must be renegotiated through exorcism and charitable giving. The money charity diverts bad luck and protectively covers the dreamer. Jinn stand in for a variety of social actors, forces, and individual desires. Shaykh Abu Ahmad begins with the belief in jinn and he forces patients to participate in the recitation of the Quranic verse (51:56), “I have created jinn and men only that they may serve Me.”19 Thereby, he tries to ensure that patients will be open to his explanations involving jinn and magic performed by others, which only he can protect his clients from. He offered to protect the Palestinian girl and to fix all her problems for a hefty fee. If her family also accepts that explanation, it might distract them from what actually happened, which would be more shameful. Possession was socially less problematic than the “loss of honor,” in the event that she had slept with the ‘Alawi boyfriend. In Egypt and in Iraq, the exorcism includes a hefty beating. Shaykh Abu Ahmad said it could be done with prayer and medicine. In Shirin’s case, the aid of the jinn was ultimately in vain, inasmuch as the man she loved never came back to her. Yet, even in her case, the jinn played an important role in distracting her from what had just transpired, from the fact that her boyfriend had left her and had married another. By enlisting Shaykh Abu Ahmad’s help, she implicitly tasked jinn with acting on her behalf to restore the relationship. The shaykh had said it would take at least a month if not six weeks. This allowed her to catch

5

BATTERED LOVE IN CONTEMPORARY SYRIA …

93

her breath and get back on her feet again. The magic worked in that it allowed her to heal her broken heart, even though the jinn failed to bring Shirin what she wanted most—her boyfriend. In the 2010 Syrian television series al-Sayyida, a young spoiled wife goes to a spiritual healer to ask for help conceiving a child. In the series, the shaykh tells her that there are jinn after her and that she must get rid of them by following his instructions. However, following his instructions, she smears a stinky substance on the doorframe of her mother-in-law, who lives in the same building. The implication is that the young wife has cursed her own home. She constantly nagged, and then ran off to live with her older married sister, whose husband is not happy at all to have another woman in the household. In the meantime, her husband sees the wife with the shaykh at a café. This finally causes him to divorce her, having declared her behavior shameful, and to wash his hands off her. At some point, this spiritual doctor states that the jinn have proliferated since 2003, when the USA decided to depose Saddam Husain:20 “The Americans released thousands of jinn in Iraq.” On screen, the young woman expresses her doubts, but the shaykh insists: “How else do you explain that everyone is majn¯ un?” (al-Sayyida 2010, episode 22). Majn¯ un means both crazy and possessed by a jinn. The idea that the world is crazy because of jinn is a simplistic explanation, but one consistent with scripture, according to Shaykh Abu Ahmad. For him, the world consists of multiple intersecting narratives that reveal and conceal other stories.21 His practice is religious inasmuch as it draws on Islamicate symbols, myths, and rituals. Comparing Abu Ahmad’s spiritual healing with other religious practices, one might conclude, with Rudi Paret, that while both draw on the same set of symbols, magic supposedly serves predominantly selfish purposes (Paret 1958, 86). Put differently, spiritual healing allows clients to regain agency and control over their lives. This however has to happen behind the veil. In order to work, the process has to be hidden first, even if it is revealed in the end.

Notes 1. Q 51:56 (translation mine). “I have created jinns and men only that they may serve Me.” (Yusuf Ali’s translation.) 2. Field notes, Sunday, 1 November 2009. 3. Q 2:102, Yusuf Ali’s translation.

94

E. SZANTO

4. In Shi‘ism, a mujtahid is someone who is able to produce independant reasoning. Since the Akhbari-Usuli debate in the nineteenth century, the Akhbari notion that every Shi‘i must follow a living mujtahid in all matters of life led to the rise of a Shi‘i hierarchy. See Momen (1985, 117–118, 175–176). 5. The shrine town attracted Shi‘i pilgrims, but the vendors, hotel owners, and hotel staff who served and made money from the pilgrims were not always Shi‘is. However, given that the religious identity of the religious tourists and consumers was Twelver Shi‘ism, Twelver Shi‘i products and symbols dominated the visual space of the shrine town. Cf.: Pinto 2007; and for a discussion of how pilgrimage sites were shared by different religious groups, see Fartacek (2011). 6. Field notes, Sunday, 20 September 2009. 7. The fourteen Infallibles include the Prophet Muhammad, his daughter Fatima, her husband Ali, their sons Hasan and Husayn, followed by nine male descendants of Husayn. All except the Prophet and his daughter are given the title Imam. All are considered infallible because they have received divine knowledge and as such cannot bring themselves to err. 8. Basim Karbalai is one of the most famous Muh.arram mourning singers. Basim was also relatively young and handsome at the time of my fieldwork starting in 2007. 9. This mixing of medical traditions is not new. As Andrew Newman explains, in the seventeenth century, the Safavid jurist B¯aqir al-Majlis¯ı reproduced a supposedly ninth-century medical treatise by the eighth Shi‘i Imam. By analyzing Majlis¯ı’s text, Newman concludes that it can be usefully understood in the context of debates regarding the utility of Greek sources, charting a “middle path” and blending “Islamic” and “Galenic” medical models. See Newman (2009, 349–361). 10. Field notes, Monday, 21 September 2009. 11. Amina’s sister Amal told me after this incident that she had previously tried magic to solve her own marital problems. However, unlike Shaykh Abu Ahmad, of whom she generally thought very highly, she thought that the magician she had consulted earlier had practiced black magic, because it led to her divorce. According to Amal, she had gone to a woman doctor, who told Amal that she would solve her marital problems. The female doctor told Amal to bring her the head of a sheep and a chicken (black with a white feather on its head) and kafan (or cloth used for wrapping corpses). Amal was instructed to wrap the head and the chicken in the two ends of the cloth and bury them in the cemetery about two meters apart from one another. Following this, she was divorced within a month. Amal’s marital problems had been solved, but not the way she had hoped. Field notes, Wednesday, 28 October 2009.

5

BATTERED LOVE IN CONTEMPORARY SYRIA …

95

12. Schimmel (1993, 29–31), Cammann (1969, Parts I and II), and Knight (2016). 13. The ‘Alawi are a Shi‘i minority. They are not Twelvers, but were recognized by the Twelver Shi‘i cleric Musa al-Sadr as Shi‘i Muslims. Cf. Seale (1995, 173). 14. Field notes, Saturday, 5 December 2009. 15. She was still technically a virgin. Had she lost her hymen, her brothers might have killed her for besmirching the family’s honor. 16. Field notes, Sunday, 27 September 2009. 17. This is fairly common. Cf. Crapanzano (1973). 18. Field notes, Tuesday, 17 November 2009. 19. Yusuf Ali’s translation. 20. On the politization of jinn see Böttcher’s contribution in this volume. 21. For a fascinating discussion about the marginalization of non-rational ways of telling history, see Nandy (1995).

Bibliography Ab¯ u al-Q¯asim al-Ir¯aq¯ı, Ah.mad. Shams al-Shum¯ us. Beirut: D¯ar al-Muhajja alBayd.¯a, 2009. Aghaie, Kamran. The Martyrs of Karbala: Shi‘i Symbols and Rituals in Modern Iran. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2004. al-Sayyida. Episode 22. Directed by Ghazwan Barijan. Written by Hamid alMaliki. Al-Baghdadiyyah Network, 1 September 2010. Badeen, Edward, and Birgit Krawietz. “Eheschließung mit Dschinnen nach Badr al-D¯ın al-Šibl¯ı.” Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes 92 (2002): 33–51. Cammann, Schuyler. “Islamic and Indian Magic Squares, Part I.” History of Religions 8, no. 3 (1969): 181–209. Cammann, Schuyler. “Islamic and Indian Magic Squares, Part II.” History of Religions 8, no. 4 (1969): 271–299. Crapanzano, Vincent. The Hamadsha: A Study in Moroccan Ethnopsychiatry. Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 1973. Deeb, Lara. An Enchanted Modern: Gender and Public Piety in Shi‘i Lebanon. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2006. Dorpmüller, Sabine. Religiöse Magie im “Buch der probaten Mittel”: Analyse, kritische Edition und Übersetzung der Kit¯ ab al-Mu˘garrab¯ at von Muhammad ibn Y¯ usuf as-San¯ us¯ı (gest. um 895/1490). Wiesbaden, Germany: Harrossowitz Verlag, 2005. Ewing, Katherine. “Dreams from a Saint: Anthropological Atheism and the Temptation to Believe.” American Anthropologist 96, no. 3 (1994): 571–583.

96

E. SZANTO

Farouk-Sluglett, Marion, and Peter Sluglett. Iraq Since 1958: From Revolution to Dictatorship. London: KPI, 1987. ˇ Fartacek, Gebhard. “Begegnung mit Ginn: Lokale Konzeptionen über Geister und Dämonen in der syrischen Peripherie.” Anthropos 97, no. 2 (2002): 469– 486. Fartacek, Gebhard. “‘Kulln¯a mitl bad.’! Heilige Orte, ethnische Grenzen und die ¯ Bewältigung alltäglicher Probleme in Syrien.” Anthropos 106, no. 1 (2011): 3–19. Johansen, Baber. “Vom Wort- zum Indizienbeweis: Die Anerkennung der richterlichen Folter in islamischen Rechtsdoktrinen des 13. und 14. Jahrhunderts.” Ius Commune 28, no. 1 (2001): 1–46. Knight, Michael Muhammad. Magic in Islam. New York: TarcherPerigee, 2016. Krawietz, Birgit. “Islamic Conceptions of the Evil Eye.” Medicine and Law 21 (2002): 339–355. Mittermaier, Amira. Dreams That Matter: Egyptian Landscapes of the Imagination. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2011. Momen, Moojan. An Introduction to Shi‘i Islam: The History and Doctrines of Twelver Shi‘ism. New Haven, CN: Yale University Press, 1985. Nandy, Ashys. “History’s Forgotten Doubles.” History and Theory 34, no. 2, Theme Issue 34: World Historians and Their Critics (May 1995): 44–66. Newman, Andrew. “B¯aqir al-Majlis¯ı and Islamicate Medicine II: al-Ris¯ala aldhahabiyya in Bih.¯ar al-anw¯ar.” In Le Sh¯ı’isme Im¯ amite quarante ans après: Hommage à Etan Kohlberg, edited by Mohammad Ali Amir-Moezzi, Meir M. Bar-Asher, and Simon Hopkins, pp. 349–361. Turnhot: Brepols Publishers, 2009. Paret, Rudi. Symbolik des Islam. Stuttgart: Anton Hiersemann, 1958. Pinto, Paulo G. “Pilgrimage, Commodities, and Religious Objectification: The Making of Transnational Shi‘ism Between Iran and Syria.” Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East 27, no. 1 (2007): 109–125. Schimmel, Annemarie. The Mystery of Numbers. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993. Seale, Patrick. Asad: The Struggle for the Middle East. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995. Shuster, Mike. “Ahmadinejad Seen as Loser in Iranian Power Struggle.” National Public Radio website, 10 May 2011. Retrieved from: http://www. npr.org/2011/05/10/136176773/ahmadinejad-seen-as-loser-in-iranianpower-struggle, last accessed 21 March 2011. Sündermann, Katja. Spirituelle Heiler im modernen Syrien. Berlin: Verlag Hans Schiller, 2006. Szanto, Edith. “Beyond the Karbala Paradigm: Rethinking Revolution and Redemption in Twelver Shi‘a Mourning Rituals.” Journal of Shi‘a Islamic Studies 6 (2013): 75–91.

5

BATTERED LOVE IN CONTEMPORARY SYRIA …

97

Taussig, Michael. Walter Benjamin’s Grave. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2006. Wehr, Hans. A Dictionary of Modern Arabic, edited by J. Milton Cowan, 4th ed. Ithaca, NY: Spoken Language Services, 1994. Zimney, Michelle. “History in the Making: the Sayyida Zaynab Shrine in Damascus.” ARAM 19 (2007): 696–697.

CHAPTER 6

Ruqya and the Olive Branch: A Bricoleur Healer Between Catalonia and Morocco Josep Lluís Mateo Dieste

Introduction This work aims to show the open and dynamic nature of Muslim rituals of healing in contemporary contexts defined by migration and the construction of transnational links, in which social tensions and bodily afflictions emerge. Rituals such as the ruqya that we will analyze here are old, but they constitute new symbolic mechanisms for the populations of the diaspora. These rituals allow the release of personal and social tensions provoked by social and gender inequalities, but they are also mechanisms for reproducing differences and transmitting morality, especially as a result of processes of revival within Islam. The ruqya, in my opinion,

J. L. Mateo Dieste (B) Departament d’Antropologia Social i Cultural, Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona, Bellaterra, Spain e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4_6

99

100

J. L. MATEO DIESTE

has been experiencing this revival as a textual technique linked to Islamic Prophetic Medicine (t.ibb nabaw¯ı) since the 1990s. This revival has taken place in countries with a Muslim majority, such as Morocco, but also among populations of Maghrebi origin living in Europe, and this has led to transnational processes of the dissemination and construction of Islamic medicine. In my analysis, I will address the question of how these rituals are constructed in a setting of human movements. I will look at an original case, a young man born in Catalonia of a Moroccan father and a Catalan mother, who spent a few years practicing ruqya among Muslims and non-Muslims. He acted as a true bricoleur, adopting various healing techniques, through his networks and trips between a mountain village in the north of Morocco and a village in Catalonia. The majority of the people who attended his healing services were of Moroccan origin and belonged to the lower socioeconomic classes that settled in Catalonia after the migrations from Morocco between 1980 and 2010, inserted in jobs in the secondary labor market or directly affected by unemployment. In the case of women, many followed the pattern of a migration by marriage that placed them in a new social environment full of uncertainties, as they follow virilocal residence patterns.1 Through this case, I will show innovations in how ruqya is practiced, in an original combination of different Muslim traditions, and the relationship between the healer and the “patients” in a transnational context between Catalonia and Morocco. I will accompany this specific case with other reflections and cases that I have collected in my fieldwork between 2010 and 2013, with various fuqah¯ a  (sg. faq¯ıh)2 who perform ruqya in Tangier, Tetouan, and Barcelona.

Ruqya as a Revival in Morocco and the Diaspora My main hypothesis is that ruqya, understood here as Quranic recitation for healing purposes as practiced since the 1990s in various parts of the Islamic world and the “West,” is the effect of a revival and reinterpretation of Islam in response to new challenges and historical changes. This accords with the classical theory of religious revival (Wallace 1956, 269–290). This revival finds in the ruqya a particular success due to the installation of a textualist rhetoric, as addressed by Benkheira (1997) in his “amour

6

RUQYA AND THE OLIVE BRANCH …

101

de la loi.” The use of the Quranic text for healing fits this interpretation. It is based on principles of the definition of evil that are inalienable for Muslims, since jinn (sg., jinn¯ı)3 are beings recognized as creatures created by God; the ruqya aims to domesticate them, in addition to facing other afflictions attributed to magic, the Evil Eye, envy, or poisoning (Ashour 2007, 26–32). But these afflictions are also the effect of social relationships, of uncertainties, of frustrations, and of hidden conflicts that emerge precisely in rituals (Aouattah 1993, 235–237). I will also show the plasticity of the ritual, in a moment of apparent rigidity and immobility. Though the majority of social actors whom I have studied legitimize their practice by referring to the prestige of the text, and they accuse other healers of practicing charlatanism (sha wadha), they elaborate their own interpretations of Islamic medicine techniques, which are standardized contemporarily (Jeraissy 2002). The specific case of the healer whom I will analyze here does not easily fit into the typologies of the fuqah¯ a  in accordance with their degrees of knowledge of the textual tradition. The case of this bricoleur challenges the dichotomies of orthodoxy and heterodoxy and shows the plasticity of the ritual, as well as the therapeutic itineraries of the afflicted people between Europe and Morocco. We can say that both the healer and the patients participate in this transnationality. Even jinn ignore borders, so that Muslims in Europe are also possessed by jinn “living” in the Maghreb. The theological dimension of the apparent (z.¯ ahir) and the occult (b¯ a.tin) has other borders than the nation-states, although jinn are also a reflection of human sociopolitical relations, as shown by the different dangers attributed to jinn in the function of their religion (Rothenberg 2004, 77–98; Drieskens 2008, 105; Mateo Dieste 2014a, 276–280). Ruqya is an old ritual already practiced by the Prophet Muhammad and a  and their clients or the broader social his wife Aisha,4 but both the fuqah¯ environment are giving it new significance, and its practice has increased since the 1990s (Spadola 2014, 121–127). Namely, the redefinition of religion is not a mere return to the past, but responds to a social tension that affects daily life and practices (food, clothing, family relationships), recreating tradition and appropriating modernity (Burgat 1996, 257). This is the context of the return of Prophetic Medicine (t.ibb nabaw¯ı)5 and the re-adoption of rituals such as ruqya. I propose the concept of sociological re-Islamization to analyze this re-adoption. This would be a process derived from a political phase in the re-signification of Islam; this

102

J. L. MATEO DIESTE

political dimension does not disappear, but the sociological dimension is disseminated to broad layers of the population (low, middle, and upper classes). The process of re-Islamization takes place through daily practices linked to clothing, body aesthetics, body discipline, morality, and their effects on economic patterns, leisure practices, and “cultural consumption.” In this sense, the modernity of this process is very clear, since being Muslim goes beyond the ritual itself and depends on the adoption of forms of modern capitalism, centered on the imitation of certain aesthetic tastes and of certain forms of consumption, especially of products considered “Islamic,” but also of those forms of healing considered lawful (h.al¯ al ) in relation to illicit (h.ar¯ am). My analysis of ruqya must be understood in this general framework of postcolonial Muslim societies, so that the ritual is not a mere reproduction of old techniques of jinn eviction, but the re-elaboration of a kind of social relationship that not only offers psychological services to people, but it also builds mechanisms of body control and indicates tensions in the domestic sphere and kinship in transnational situations (Hüwelmeier and Krause 2009; Mateo Dieste 2015, 57). This reconstruction of Islamic medicine has come about in many different ways, as I saw in my fieldwork in Tetouan, Morocco in April and June 2010 and May 2011. I interviewed six specialists in Islamic medicine who are particularly dedicated to the expulsion of or the prevention of attacks by jinn. These fuqah¯ a  did not have a homogenous profile, and they showed some diversity with respect to training, techniques used, physical presentation, claimed legitimacy, and social setting, linked to their status and their neighborhoods or the type of clientele they receive, mainly in their houses. The frontier regarding the techniques they displayed is not clear at all, though most of them insisted that their technique was of course the closest to Islam and orthodoxy. The only ‘¯ alim among the six healers showed in-depth knowledge of Islamic sources and rejected deviant practices. Three of them affirmed that they use only Quranic sources, while the other two did not mind recognizing the use of a mixture of Islamic sources with magic elements (amulets, handling of substances, etc.). These forms of healing have also reached Europe, with their own peculiarities, as part of the migratory processes and the construction of a European Islam (Hoffer 2000, 137–172; Khedimellah 2007, 392–395) and of a globalized Islam that standardizes models and practices. The production of books and CDs, Web sites, Twitter, Instagram, etc., takes

6

RUQYA AND THE OLIVE BRANCH …

103

place in Arabic, but also in the European languages (e.g., in French for people of Tunisian origin living in France, Ben Halima and Ben Halima 2001; Ben Halima 2005). The individualistic conception of many of these new forms of knowledge and praxis, adapted to a modern vision comparable in some cases to self-help techniques, is also remarkable.

A Ruqya Bricoleur The Case and Its Context To illustrate all these theoretical proposals, I will discuss a case study that reflects both the mechanisms of the revival and the transnational networks that surround the re-signification of ruqya as well as its adaptation to new historical contexts. The two central spaces will be the mountains of Jbala, in the northwestern region of Morocco, and an inland village in Catalonia. The case study of a young r¯ aq¯ı6 has allowed me to illustrate the whole process of production of a healing practice elaborated by a bricoleur (LeviStrauss 1962, 26–33). At first sight, the case indicated the lack of spiritual healing services for Muslims in the diaspora, a process of returning to the roots of the healer and the constitution of eclectic healing rituals, between dowsing and ruqya. The result was a learning process that bore fruit and attracted the abundant demands of healing in Europe, which are not absorbed by the biomedical health system. Born in the 1980s in Catalonia of a Moroccan father and Catalan mother, Rachid (which will be his fictitious name)7 spent his early adolescent years without practicing Islam regularly, only entering into its rites around his twenties. Self-taught, he acquired remarkable theological knowledge, especially of some classical authors of Sufism. Rachid works in the family business founded by his father, a metallurgical workshop for car components. He married a girl from his father’s village and has three children. In 2010, I had regular contacts with this r¯ aq¯ı, a friend of mine, since attending Arabic classes. At that time, I was publishing the Spanish version of Health and Ritual in Morocco (2013), had written about the state of the art in Moroccan medical systems, and was exploring ruqya in Catalonia. I was following the case of a r¯ aq¯ı in Barcelona who had cured a Moroccan family, also of my acquaintance. To my surprise, my colleague told me by e-mail that he had started on the issue of ruqya. For

104

J. L. MATEO DIESTE

a time I followed his experiences, while I was conducting various interviews and field observations in Tetouan. This text presents the results of this methodologically “unprogrammed” follow-up.8

Initiation in the Ruqya and Trips to the Paternal Village It was a surprise for me to hear of this initiation in the ruqya for someone who had not previously experienced this healing system. After many years of returning to his father’s mountain village in the summer, a small dchar (village) of Jbala in an Arabic-speaking area in the north of Morocco, he confessed to me that he had felt a kind of call after a visit to Mawlay ‘Abdeslam. This saint is a pole (qut.b)9 of Islam and a central reference of Maghrebi Sufism.10 This intuition linked to a reference sanctuary is very interesting, because it is a first indicator of the polysemic nature of the case. Until then he had regularly visited the sanctuary—I had accompanied him on some occasions—and tended to reject it, because he linked the place with superstitions and popular religiosity. We must remember that this tension between “legitimate Islam” and sha wadha or trickery is a plot thread that was repeated in my interviews with other ruqya specialists of Tetouan. Rachid’s practice of ruqya clearly emerged in a transnational arena through the influence of social actors in Catalonia and Morocco. His interest in ruqya began in recent years with his observation of the imam of his village’s mosque in Catalonia, who really introduced him to this practice. The imam, although trained in Tangier, comes from the same tribe as our protagonist and claims a Sharifian origin as well.11 That is to say that the ruqya as a method came to him through a religious agent linked to the Islam of the book, but also to Sharifian baraka.12 From the beginning, this initiation took another course, since Rachid has always been self-taught and his initiation in the ruqya would also be based on “practical experience”. In the summer of 2010, a visit to the shrine of Mawlay ‘Abdeslam had an impact on his life, along with the influence of an uncle, the brother of his father. This uncle initiated him into a very different esoteric practice, a form of dowsing, specifically using olive branches13 to find water and wells in an area not reached by running water and also to look for treasures (sg. kanz). There are many legends about buried treasures in Jbala, as in other areas of Morocco, which mention fuqah¯ a  from Sus who arrived in the past (González Vázquez 2015, 84–85).

6

RUQYA AND THE OLIVE BRANCH …

105

Since his initiation into these techniques, Rachid developed an awareness that he might have some strength, some special power, some kind of flow of blessing or grace (baraka), and so his visit to the sanctuary has its importance in this story. Nor should we forget the family history in that same village. In addition to the aforementioned uncle, an aunt practices the technique of ‘ azz¯ ama, that is, the application of baraka through hands or saliva, accompanied by Quranic recitations and other secret formulas transmitted between healers and also through Sharifian families (Rhani 2009, 28–29), which are abundant in the region. But above all, a highlight of this local background is the memory of Rachid’s paternal grandmother, who was a celebrity in the village as a healer and midwife. As Rachid explained to me: I do not know very well where all this comes from, I only know that I have always had a special sensitivity to these things. Last summer I discovered that, like my uncle, I have the ability to detect water, metals, black magic (sih.r), and jinn with the olive tree; and by then I visited Mawlay ‘Abdeslam, where I noticed an internal call… I went there, and apparently nothing happened, but, actually, something happened; at that precise moment, I knew something hidden (b¯ a.tin), which was not apparent (z.¯ ahir).14

This mixture of “traditional” Moroccan Islam and revitalized ancient techniques such as ruqya converged in this personal itinerary, which deviates from the standards described in the Internet and in compilations of fatwas, h.ad¯ıth, and s¯ ura, conceived as an authentic globalization (Roy 2004) of the ruqya: My ruqya is simple and based on the baraka, since I do not follow any concrete texts, and the jinn are not visualized or resisted, they simply disappear. According to the imam [of the village in Catalonia], this happens to the men called r¯ uh.¯ an¯ı [spiritual], of r¯ uh.. The truth is that applying the hands on the affected part facilitates the exit much more [here we see in part the influence of the technique of ‘ azz¯ ama]. Now I am also testing with diseases, and although it is giving results in some cases, I do not know if it is due to the products used or to the baraka.15

In this narrative, we observe that the boundary between physical and spiritual illnesses is not clear either, and that in any case, in this first period, the interventions had a clearly experimental thread.

106

J. L. MATEO DIESTE

At the end of December 2010, Rachid’s experiences with ruqya began to multiply. In part, progress in this technique was clearly linked to trips made to the mountain village in Morocco. In one of these trips of a few days, one of the people involved was his mother-in-law. Apparently, his family and friends in the village encouraged him to perform the ritual, and he felt that the baraka was emerging more and more during the sessions. During those few days, he conducted a total of approximately twenty ruqya: It seems that I have a special baraka to do this. Now I am perfecting the technique, but the certain thing is that I have expelled some jinn that wellknown imams in ruqya had not been able to remove. In my penultimate ruqya, the jinn¯ı appeared, after the person briefly fainted; she got up and the jinn¯ı began to speak; it was amazing; all the assistants were stunned. And then I started pushing to get him out. He said he was a faq¯ıh of Kenitra and he asked me to forgive him.

People told him that the jinn¯ı had been bothering his mother-in-law for 32 years. During this period, the family had tried everything, and they had grown tired of visiting all kinds of imams. Everyone confronted the jinn¯ı, but he had never revealed to them who he was or explained to them that he wanted to leave that body.16 This self-directed training, as we could define it, was accompanied by small ritual advances that invested Rachid with the condition of r¯ aq¯ı at the behest of his mentor, the imam of his village in Catalonia. So, he told me that the imam had given him the authorization (idhn) by means of a silver ring, with an inscription inside it (al-rah.m¯ an, the Merciful, one of the names of Allah) as an evocation of the Prophet’s seal (Porter 2011, 6–7). The same ring would also serve to heal. Here we can observe again the intersection of several Moroccan medical systems, since the structure is similar to that of the ‘ azz¯ ama, or healing by contact with some object or part of the blessed body—hands and saliva, but also contact with objects such as old knives or lemons.17 Rachid himself has also been seen performing ‘ azz¯ ama with knives, although the ones he used were not old. According to his mentor, Rachid’s abilities are not habitual, and he predicted that in a short time, the jinn would flee just knowing that he is already approaching the body of the possessed person. The point is that although Rachid still did not master the recitations, he observed

6

RUQYA AND THE OLIVE BRANCH …

107

something special that makes his ruqya much more effective than other people’s, probably that baraka. The relationship with the imam is similar to the forms of transmission of knowledge and Sufi master–disciple relations (Hammoudi 1997, 137–141) central in the Maghreb. This imam had received in turn the ij¯ aza, the authorization, from a master in Tangier. In that period (late 2010), the imam was teaching Rachid various Quranic verses (¯ ay¯ at ), and especially more powerful ones, to protect himself in case one of the most dangerous jinn appeared. Another aspect that Rachid himself highlighted in our conversations was his calm when facing this process of initiation. From his point of view, the important thing is to put a lot of intention (niyya), to face the new situations, with improvisations, intuitions, and letting himself be carried away by the sensations that he experiences during the ruqya ritual. He did not live alone through this process, but had a social support, his primary group of kinship. His uncle told him that he had similar feelings, which he attributed to the baraka. Therefore, unlike other textual rhetoric that attribute power to the text, Rachid emphasizes the importance of the sensations experienced when capturing the jinn. In contrast, the mechanisms of a globalized ruqya are based on principles such as that the emitter of the ruqya, recorded by new information technologies, can also exert its influence, because it is almost a scientific effect, due to sound waves. Many Muslim authors have labeled these congruences between religion and science Quranic miracles (i j¯ az ilm¯ı) (Benyoussef 2006; Mateo Dieste 2014b, 130–134; Bigliardi 2018, 28–43). These constructions of an eclectic ruqya are formed by the combination of the advice of the imam and practice. When practicing ruqya in the Moroccan village, Rachid spent several days reciting to heal the same person. He put his right hand on the man’s head. He felt something going through the patient and coming out of his own left hand. Observe in this commentary the reproduction of the patterns on the right and the left hand that have been analyzed in other contexts (Needham 1973): the right has the power to control, the evil comes from the left. This experience makes sense when Rachid remembers the words of his mentor, the imam: that feeling means that jinn are moving through your body with the blood.18 According to him, this is why he may feel heat and trembling during the ruqya. It is no coincidence that, a few months later, Rachid would install a small sauna in his house in Catalonia to relax after the sessions and to check the power of the heat on the jinn. After a ruqya,

108

J. L. MATEO DIESTE

he noticed some tingling in his hands after a few minutes of being in the sauna. Rachid felt that it was a jinn¯ı he had expelled and captured, that had just left his body, because jinn flee from the heat.19 During the first sessions, he began to apply what he had learned, reciting over water and having his mother-in-law drink the water with ruqya. But her body did not improve until the third day, when she stood up and started talking. In that stage, the woman finally revealed the secret, the faq¯ıh who possessed her spoke and apologized. In this scene of incarnations, like the “maîtres foux” by Jean Rouch, where people embody third-party characters, the dialogues of possession show alter egos and projections of the collective unconscious. In dreams, Rachid also received a visit from the jinn,20 who informed him. The jinn are thus a kind of informants. As I understand it, this is another projection of the Maghreb forms of mediation, al-was¯ıt.a (lit. “the one in the middle”), a way to resolve negotiated conflicts, which we can also observe in Buya Omar and other sanctuaries (Naamouni 1995, 131–151; Maarouf 2007, 203– 221), where the possessed await an invisible judgment by saints and jinn. In Rachid’s dream, a jinn¯ı in the shape of a boy tried to attack him with a sword, and two women appeared naked. In a later conversation, I asked about the dream of the nude women and he speculated that it could be a message to indicate that women attending ruqya should be covered.

Ruqya in the Catalan Village A few weeks later, following these experiences in Morocco, Rachid started implementing the practice of ruqya in his Catalan village, not only with Muslims but also among non-Muslims. The arena of the ruqya in Rachid’s house in Catalonia is a balad¯ı room, with mtarba, Moroccan sofas, paintings of Quranic chapters, in a corner a Quran, and some r¯ um¯ı component, like a television set.21 But Rachid also makes house calls when people prefer privacy. And on several occasions, they have performed the rituals in the local mosque. In January 2011, he performed a ruqya for a 25-year-old Moroccan woman.22 A few months earlier, she had married a Spanish non-Muslim man in his 50s who works in a mechanical workshop. Since she came from Morocco and did not have her family, she went through a hard period with many difficulties adapting after her arrival in the village. The Spaniard did the shah¯ ada and converted to Islam to get married, because Islamic family law prohibits Muslim women from marrying a non-Muslim, but

6

RUQYA AND THE OLIVE BRANCH …

109

he did not actually practice Islam. The young woman was sick, she had stomach pains, and she confessed to Rachid that she could not have sexual relations and that when she heard recitations of the Quran she noticed that her legs were falling asleep. Rachid went to her house and applied the dowsing technique. When he had the branch in his hands, he recited some blessings in the name of God and expected that the branch would point out the jinn. He detected a jinn¯ı and he began to recite parts of the Quran, until the jinn¯ı manifested itself in the presence of a relative of Rachid and the young woman’s husband. The jinn¯ı explained that he had been married to the girl since she was 14 years old. He also confessed through the woman’s voice that he was a Jew from Israel. Talking to the woman, Rachid tried to convince the jinn¯ı to leave her body, but he did not succeed; in the conversation, she confessed very private matters. Meanwhile, Rachid held her hands, which were very cold, and her head. At the end of the process, her body warmed up. She got up and tried to escape. In the final effort, Rachid managed to get the jinn¯ı out through his own body, from right to left.23 His hand and right arm went numb, something crossed his chest and passed to his left arm, and finally some fingers of his left hand fell asleep. The husband, who attended the scene, was very upset by what he saw. Rachid handed him the olive branch but he did not detect any jinn; however, he found problems in the neck caused by black magic (sih.r) hatched up by the family of his wife.24 The practice of ruqya in a non-Muslim country faces several practical and legal problems. Beyond the known effects of abuse by some healers, their practice in homes could lead to problems of public and criminal order if a patient suffers a mishap,25 and in fact, this was one of the many reasons why Rachid stopped practicing ruqya. Rachid already foresaw this problem during his first cases, when a possessed girl began to shout in response to the Quranic recitation. At that time of the night, it was not advisable to continue with the ritual. Given the difficulties encountered, he called his master, the imam, for help. They spent an hour and a half negotiating with her/the jinn¯ı, who was reluctant to leave. According to Rachid,26 the girl went into a trance. First, the jinn¯ı pretended that her name was Mariam and that she was Muslim, but then the jinn¯ı confessed that he was married to her, and that he was a Jew.27 After two hours of struggling, Rachid felt a current that crossed him from right to left. He stretched out his arms to make room for the exiting jinn¯ı, and when Rachid noticed that he had left her body, he shouted the girl’s name, and she replied, waking up from the trance.

110

J. L. MATEO DIESTE

Treatment of Non-Muslims After a time, Rachid also received requests from non-Muslims to practice ruqya on them. For instance, he visited a house in another nearby town, where members of a Catholic family believed it was haunted by a dead man pulling their hair. Rachid with his dowsing stick detected jinn, whom he forced to leave, but one of them took refuge in a computer. This case demonstrates the polysemy of agency. For some it was a dead person, for Rachid it was a jinn¯ı. Information about the benefits of ruqya even reached Rachid’s physiotherapist. One day he suggested her to use his dowsing stick, after she felt that she had a lot of bad luck, and he diagnosed a case of Evil Eye affliction (al-‘ayn). He did ruqya on her, though she was not a Muslim. She noticed that a very painful weight was going down from the stomach to the womb. In an interesting exchange of techniques, almost dialectical, Rachid detected several alterations in his physiotherapist. He attributed them to the jinn¯ı and the influence of ruqya on the jinn¯ı’s movements in her organs.

Healing Innovations and the Appropriation of Tradition One of the innovations that I have already mentioned is the use of the dowsing rod and its incorporation as a diagnostic tool. The stick was used in the past as a device to look for treasures, but Rachid applies it to detect the presence of jinn, at any time and in any situation. In fact, I have attended several of these moments when the olive branch intervenes. Rachid jokes about it: He has baptized the instrument his “scanner,” and it can be applied both to people and places. This indicates a certain mimicry of hegemonic technological language or even of medical procedures when referring to diagnoses and cures. In my previous work, I had paid attention to the interference of jinn in places and even in electronic devices, as I observed in Tetouan. When I asked Rachid about this, his response was as follows: Yes, it has happened to me. Right now, I have the jinn¯ı that I took out of my car on Monday. I changed the car 15 days ago and yesterday morning it started to make strange movements, and then I went to the city and the lights did not go out; today in the morning, the remote control did

6

RUQYA AND THE OLIVE BRANCH …

111

not open the door… I was suspicious, and at noon I looked with the “olive scanner” and indeed the jinn¯ı was in the car. I gave him a 24-hour ultimatum to leave.28

When I visited his house in Catalonia, we went down to the garage, he took out the dowsing rod, and it began to tilt toward the ground to mark the place where the jinn¯ı lay. The effects continued months later. One day he was going to visit a woman who had been possessed for years, to recite ruqya. When he approached the house, the windows of the car were blocked, and the mechanics were not able to explain the cause of the breakdown. The cases of jinn intrusions in machines and electronic devices have been frequent in Rachid’s career, especially when he is on the way to perform ruqya. On three occasions, when leaving the house, either the elevator did not come down or the doors did not open. These theories resemble what Gluckman (1944) called the ad hoc explanation of events, following a logic shared by science, witchcraft, and even what is called chance. On another occasion, a Catalan businessman married to a Moroccan woman contacted Rachid. They had many problems in the company and Rachid went to investigate. He found a gigantic jinn¯ı in the factory. He drew an imaginary circle to delimit an area, but then, outside the circle, the Moroccan woman, who was also present, began to asphyxiate, until Rachid made a ruqya to reassure her. Rachid attributed this attack to the most dangerous type of jinn¯ı, the flying jinn¯ı. This olive wood works as a kind of oracle to determine afflictions and to find explanations, as in Evans-Pritchard’s (1937) classic work about the Azande, although it does not serve to foresee the future but to analyze the present and the past, detecting jinn and determining the cause of their appearance. That is why he asks the branch whether what he finds is black magic (sih.r), the Evil Eye (al-‘ayn), or poisoning (Moroccan: tkal ). Rachid’s uncle also uses other divination techniques, such as reciting verses while throwing cumin or pepper onto a charcoal stove, to identify the remedy, such as ruqya, some humoral substance, or a visit to a saint. Rachid often performs a ritual he learned in his Moroccan village. It consists of marking limits for the jinn, as a kind of imaginary cage. In the process, he recites some Quranic phrases and then he marks the ground with a knife and cuts through the air at the four ends that make up the square. To supplement the ruqya, Rachid recommends making jujube (sidr) infusions. He brought examples of this plant from

112

J. L. MATEO DIESTE

his Moroccan village and planted them in his garden in Catalonia, an authentic metaphor for the transplant of rituals. Drinking blessed water is an auxiliary mechanism when recitation is not enough. But when the jinn resist, the possessed refuses to drink the water or is disgusted, and therefore Rachid prepares the jujube infusions, especially against black magic (sih.r). One of the fuqah¯ a  interviewed in Tetouan also supplemented the ruqya with substance ingestion, according to the Prophetic Medicine (t.ibb nabaw¯ı) classics (Elgood 1962, 53–58). And when these methods do not work, then Rachid prepares another combination that the possessed often despise: recitation over a mixture of boiled water with jujube, cumin, and honey. A woman who drank this mixture reacted violently because she had poisoning black magic (sih.r). She began to vomit dark balls of hair. Rachid acknowledged that he uses various concentration techniques, inspired by New Age movements that refer to “energies”. He distinguishes between the mental images he creates when he wants to attract the jinn and when he wants to expel them. To attract them, he thinks in mental arrows that point inward to absorb energy. To expel them, he thinks of arrows that transport the energy outward. According to Rachid, baraka, too, can be imagined as an energy entering the body. Such developments show the process of the construction of a healing practice without a centralized authority of transmission, and this allows for ritual adaptations. We can say that there has been a kind of construction of an Islam with the values and modalities of the society in which the bricoleur was socialized (Dassetto 2000).29

Transnationality and Ruqya In my fieldwork in Tetouan, some Muslim experts (fuqah¯ a , sg. faq¯ıh) were already practicing ruqya by mobile phone or talking to Muslims in Europe in a cybercafé. For instance, the faq¯ıh Susi showed me a list of thirty European contacts who used his services. This dimension has taken on new meanings. The same day that I asked Rachid if he could perform remote ruqya, the imam told him that he had a case in Belgium, a boy who had made several suicide attempts. His family called the imam to help them at a distance. Rachid tried to make his diagnosis with the olive stick thousands of kilometers away. He asked the imam if the boy took drugs and the family confirmed it. However, Rachid normally hesitates to perform ruqya virtually, since it precludes the physical proximity that allows him to control the person’s reactions.

6

RUQYA AND THE OLIVE BRANCH …

113

In spite of these limitations, what matters is that both the healers and the afflicted move on a transnational stage. During my fieldwork in Catalonia over the years, I have been able to follow the case of a woman afflicted by jinn, although the information has always come to me through her husband, a merchant installed in Catalonia since the 1990s. Both husband and wife come from the eastern Rif, near Nador. Their therapeutic itineraries are quite open and plural, and when the family cannot find a solution, they spend years going here and there consulting different healers. In this case, the woman experienced a serious crisis after the birth of her child, with anguish, fear of death, and depression. The family has attributed this to a jinn¯ı,30 although over the years I have heard several versions from her husband, depending on the advice and interpretations that various healers have given them. Some think it is a case of black magic. Others have identified a jinn¯ı. They have gone to Muslim healers, including Rachid, in Barcelona and other points of Catalonia, but also in Madrid. And they have made several trips to Morocco, from the Rif to Tangier and other towns in the north. She has received ruqya and even a Caribbean ritual. The relationship with women continued to be a sensitive issue during the ritual. Among the people who should not attend a ruqya are pregnant women or menstruating women. I asked if this had to do with the fact that the jinn are fed with blood, but Rachid commented that it was rather due to an emotional tension, which could alter menstruation or have negative effects on pregnancy. It is worth remembering that the prevailing model of healing is that of men applying their power over women in a clearly gendered ritual division; although there are women who can also perform it (MacPhee 2003) and fortune tellers (Moroccan: shuwwaf¯ at ) who also resort to fuqah¯ a  (Radi 1996, 90–95). We had interesting discussions about the different ways of explaining afflictions. When I commented that social science theories attribute possession to biographical crises (conjugal problems, death of a relative, etc.) or social exclusion, Rachid replied that this is what he defines as “the doors open”. In the human body, there are moments when these doors open and the person suffers from weakness, with emotional shocks. At that time, Rachid was reading a psychology book that explained that the body is less alert in moments of crisis and loses its inner balance (here we see also the imprint of the humoral theory). Therefore, during the sessions, Rachid tries to find out the traumatic moment that the jinn¯ı uses to enter a person.

114

J. L. MATEO DIESTE

The following case will illustrate this approach. A young woman began to have headaches and nervous breakdowns, which she attributed to a jinn¯ı, right after the traumatic event in her life of a relative drowning in the sea. She was a young mother of Moroccan origin, born in Catalonia, married, with three children. Her affliction provoked headaches, insomnia, and visions. She explained that when her husband approached her she saw a dog’s face. The conclusion Rachid reached was that the jinn¯ı passed to the husband and transformed his face. The woman was then in psychiatric treatment and was taking psychopharmacological drugs. In Rachid’s treatment with his olive stick, he detected a jinn¯ı. Our last conversation about Rachid’s practice took place in January 2013. Sometime later, he abandoned his healing rituals for various reasons, but above all because he was overwhelmed by the requests and queues of patients in their free time, the possible danger of some cases (even for the family itself), and his dedication to other tasks. I wonder if Rachid’s time for ruqya is over and if that whirlwind of experiences will come back someday, but what is clear is that dozens of human experiences turned around him—human experiences that are hidden under so-called normality.

Conclusion The case analyzed here shows the construction of new forms of healing that remake major traditional Muslim practices in a transnational context; it presents a Muslim, the son a Moroccan migrant and a Catalan woman, working in the family business, who turned himself into a part-time spiritual broker dealing with jinn. The ruqya stands out among these techniques for many reasons: It is based on the authority of the Quranic text, and the new communication technologies like Facebook, Twitter, and WhatsApp have allowed faster dissemination of recorded recitation, where a human voice represents God’s power of healing and protecting. These new technologies of diffusion through mobile electronic devices had great success among Muslims in Morocco and in Europe and they conform to ideas about spirit possession (Behrend et al. 2014, 3–8). In this sense, ruqya is not only a healing ritual; it has become a contemporary instrument of self-protection, especially through the reproduction of recitation at any time and place. At the same time, it plays the role of

6

RUQYA AND THE OLIVE BRANCH …

115

a moral agency that enters people’s everyday life following a neoliberal pattern disguised as a proper Muslim commodity. As the example of Rachid has shown, some Muslim healers adapt old traditions to local contexts. Rachid has brought together classical textual sources, Sharifian baraka, dowsing, and humoral medicine. His practice as a healer is defined by a complex and polysemic system of ritual bricolage transmitted to him by relatives and religious specialists in both Morocco and Europe. Rachid recreates the ritual through practice, rather than theory. Rachid builds his methods through performance and his interaction with people who demand his services. These open traits of the ritual are possible in a context where no authority holds a religious monopoly. The ritual makes sense for people who do not find their place in the world. Despite the hegemony of the biomedical system for the treatment of diseases, Rachid is consulted, like other practitioners of ruqya in Europe, by people who believe that their afflictions cannot find a cure in that biomedical system. This system does not exert symbolic efficacy on them, unlike the Islamic ritual, which uses a language of prestige and authority in a time of Islamic revival. Namely, ruqya is not just a healing method, but also a social arena where the affliction is defined and given a moral meaning during the performance. The ruqya ritual responds to “needs,” to a social demand that is also the effect of a social construction, of a revival of Islamic medicine. The ritual is the arena for the expression of personal and social afflictions in a world of changes and transformations, like the migratory processes, with plenty of uncertainties and class and gender inequalities: personal crises, collective fears, and, especially, tensions of kinship or marital problems in which the control of sexuality and fertility becomes a central issue in healing. People who live in this diasporic situation resort to these hybrid healers because they are also a mirror of the diaspora and its transformation processes. In this context, being a good Muslim will be a guarantee to avoid attacks of evil. And ruqya has become a vehicle to guarantee this proper condition of Muslim according to the textualist revival, even if, in fact, the ritual may be a creative mixture of transnational techniques, as we have seen through the eyes of Rachid. Acknowledgements I want to thank Dr. Araceli González Vázquez for reading this manuscript and making many interesting comments. This work is recorded as a result of the project “Estudio antropológico comparativo de las nociones de ser

116

J. L. MATEO DIESTE

humano (HUMANT)” (HAR2013-40445P), MEC. I + D+I Proyectos de investigación fundamental, carried out by the research group AHCISP (Anthropology and History of the Construction of Social and Political Identities).

Notes 1. There were 60,000 people of Moroccan origin in Catalonia in 2000; 128,000 in 2003; and 207,000 in 2017. Before the crisis of 2007, half of the men were occupied in construction and industry. A significant part of the employed women worked in domestic service. See López García and Berriane (2004) for a general view of the context. 2. An expert in knowledge, recitation, and teaching of the Quran. 3. In this chapter, we will use the terms jinn¯ı (sg.) and jinn (pl.), but the reader should note that in Moroccan Arabic people mainly use the terms jinn (sing.) and jn¯ un (plural). 4. According to the later compilations of hadiths and of Prophetic Medicine, such as that of Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya (XIV century C.E.) or al-Suy¯ut¯ı (XV century C.E.). 5. For Prophetic Medicine in general, see Wessel’s contribution in this volume. 6. R¯ aq¯ı is the one who performs the ruqya ritual. 7. I want to thank him for his warm collaboration during the fieldwork and his subsequent authorization to quote our conversations in this text. 8. For another example of a detailed biography, see Sax (2013). Crapanzano’s work has also been an inspiration in analyzing the experiences of the possessed (Crapanzano 1985). 9. A perfect human being who heads the saintly hierarchy. 10. The area surrounding the sanctuary is known to have hosted many Islamic scholars. Vignet-Zunz (1993). 11. This means that he is supposed to be a shar¯ıf , or descendant of the Prophet Muhammad, through one of the latter’s lines of descendants. 12. Divine protection and blessing transmitted by lineages of shuraf¯ a’ (sg. shar¯ıf ). 13. On the use of vegetables and wood for magical purposes in Jbala, see Cola Alberich (1949, 49). 14. Conversation, 27 November 2010. All our conversations took place in the Catalan language. 15. Conversation, 27 November 2010. 16. Conversation, 11 November 2010. 17. In my fieldwork in Tetouan, I was able to interview a healer who was doing ‘ azz¯ ama with the Sharifian baraka of a knife attributed to the mystic Darqawi Ahmed Ben ‘Ajiba, which is applied to a lemon and the

6

18.

19.

20. 21.

22. 23. 24. 25.

26. 27. 28. 29. 30.

RUQYA AND THE OLIVE BRANCH …

117

parts of the body involved. Interview in Tetouan, May 29, 2010. I thank Ahmed Benajiba for his mediation and participation in the interview. Here, the commentary coincides with that of an ‘¯ alim of Tetouan, for whom the jinn circulate through the blood like microbes, and the ruqya is like a healing serum. Westermarck had already noticed this question in his seminal work of 1926 (Westermarck 1968). On the connections between Islamic medicine and humoral medicine, see Greenwood (1981). In Morocco, as in other parts of the Arab-Islamic world, there is a strong tradition of interpreting dreams (Hart 1976; González Vázquez 2014). I use the balad¯ı (“of the country”) vs. r¯ um¯ı (“European”) dichotomy, borrowed from Rachik (1997), also applicable to the living rooms of the house. Conversations in the room where ruqya takes place, January 28, 2011. This follows the pattern of purification, like in the partial ritual ablution (wud.¯ u ). See Rosander (1991) on accusations of witchcraft by affinity. A paradigmatic case was the death in Belgium of the young Latifa Hachmi by the ingestion of tens of liters of blessed water. Jacques Laruelle, “Latifa, morte avant son démon,” LaLibre.be, May 14, 2012. http://www.lalibre.be/actu/belgique/latifa-morte-avant-sondemon-51b8ea95e4b0de6db9c6876e, retrieved September 16, 2018. Conversation, January 26, 2011. On the marriage between humans and the jinn, see Leemhuis (1995) and González Vázquez (2013). Conversation, January 26, 2011. For other suggestive cases of bricoleur healers, see Sanson (2017) and Garrone (2013). Family diagnosis is a very important factor. The social environment constructs the explanation of the affliction, in addition to what the patient can do.

Bibliography Aouattah, Ali. Ethnopsychiatrie maghrébine: Représentations et thérapies traditionnelles de la maladie mentale au Maroc. Paris: L’Harmattan, 1993. Ashour, Mustafa. Les djinns dans le Coran et la Sunna. Paris: Essalam, 2007. Behrend, Heike, Anja Dreschke, and Martin Zillinger, eds. Trance Mediums & New Media: Spirit Possession in the Age of Technical Reproduction. New York: Fordham University Press, 2014. Ben Halima, Abderraouf, and Laila Ben Halima. La Roqya: Traitement de la sorcellerie, djinns et mauvais oeil par le Coran et la médicine prophétique. Paris: Le Figuier, 2001.

118

J. L. MATEO DIESTE

Ben Halima, Abderraouf. Compléments à la Roqya: Le monde des djinns. Comment nous en sommes arrivés là. Rapport de stage. Témoignages. Paris: Le Figuier, 2005. Benkheira, Mohammed Hocine. L’amour de la loi: Essai sur la normativité en Islam. Paris: PUF, 1997. Benyoussef, Driss. Le Coran et la médécine moderne. Mohammedia: Imprimerie de Fédala, 2006. Bigliardi, Stefano. La mezzaluna e la luna dimezzata: Islam, pseudoscienza et paranormale. Padua: I Quaderni del CICAP, 2018. Burgat, François. El islamismo cara a cara. Barcelona: Edicions Bellaterra, 1996. Cola Alberich, Julio. Amuletos y tatuajes marroquíes. Madrid: CSIC, Instituto de Estudios Africanos, 1949. Crapanzano, Vincent. Tuhami: Portrait of a Moroccan. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1985 [1980]. Dassetto, Felice, ed. Paroles d’islam: Individus, sociétés et discours dans l’islam européen contemporain. Paris: Maisonneuve et Larose, 2000. Drieskens, Barbara. Living with Djinns: Understanding and Dealing with the Invisible in Cairo. Berkeley: Saqi, 2008. Elgood, Cyril. “Tibb ul-Nabbi or Medicine of the Prophet.” Osiris 14 (1962): 33–192. Evans-Pritchard, Edward Evan. Witchcraft, Oracles and Magic among the Azande. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1937. Garrone, Patrick. “Healing in Central Asia: Syncretism and Acculturation.” In Shamanism and Islam: Sufism, Healing Rituals and Spirits in the Muslim World, edited by Thierry Zarcone and Angela Hobart, 17–64. London and New York: I.B. Tauris, 2013. Gluckman, Max. “The Logic of African Science and Witchcraft.” The RhodesLivingstone Institute Journal 1 (1944): 61–71. González Vázquez, Araceli. “Usos de la terminología del parentesco en Marruecos: Humanos, jnun, matrimonio, afinidad y alianza.” Ankulegi 17 (2013): 57–70. González Vázquez, Araceli. “Dreaming, Dream-Sharing and DreamInterpretation as Feminine Powers in Northern Morocco.” Anthropology of the Contemporary Middle East and Central Eurasia 2, no. 1 (2014): 97–108. González Vázquez, Araceli. Mujeres, islam y alteridades en el norte de Marruecos. Barcelona: Edicions Bellaterra, 2015. Greenwood, Bernard. “Cold or Spirits? Choice and Ambiguity in Morocco’s Pluralistic Medical System.” Social Science and Medicine 15B (1981): 219– 235. Hammoudi, Abdellah. Master and Disciple: The Cultural Foundations of Moroccan Authoritarianism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997.

6

RUQYA AND THE OLIVE BRANCH …

119

Hart, David M. The Aith Waryaghar of the Moroccan Rif: An Ethnography and History. Tucson: The University of Arizona Press-Viking Fund Publications in Anthropology, 1976. Hoffer, Cor. Volksgeloof en religieuze geneeszwijzen onder moslims in Nederland. Amsterdam: Thela Thesis, 2000. Hüwelmeier, Gertrud, and Kristine Krause, eds. Traveling Spirits: Migrants, Markets and Mobilities. New York and Oxfordshire: Routledge, 2009. Jeraissy, Khaled. Recueil de fatwas sur l’exorcisation légale (rugya). Riyadh: King Fahd National Library Cataloging-in-Publication Data, 2002. Khedimellah, Moussa. “Une version de la ruqiya de rite prophétique en France: Le cas d’Abdellah, imâm guérisseur en Lorraine.” In Coran et talismans: Textes et pratiques magiques en milieu musulman, edited by Constant Hamès, 285– 407. Paris: Karthala, 2007. Leemhuis, Fred. “Épouser un jin? Passé et présent.” Quaderni di Studi Arabi 11 (1995): 1–14. Lévi-Strauss, Claude. La pensée sauvage. Paris: Le Plon, 1962. López García, Bernabé, and Mohamed Berriane, eds. Atlas de la emigración marroquí en España. Madrid: TEIM, UAM Ediciones, 2004. Maarouf, Mohammed. Jinn Eviction as a Discourse of Power: A Multidisciplinary Approach to Moroccan Magical Beliefs and Practices. Leiden: Brill, 2007. MacPhee, Marybeth. “Medicine for the Heart: The Embodiment of Faith in Morocco.” Medical Anthropology, 22 (2003): 53–83. Mateo Dieste, Josep Lluís. Health and Ritual in Morocco: Conceptions of the Body and Healing Practices, Leiden: Brill, 2013. Mateo Dieste, Josep Lluís. “‘Eres musulmán, judío o cristiano?’ Alteridad y construcción de la diferencia en el exorcismo y el adorcismo marroquíes.” Revista de Dialectología y Tradiciones Populares 62, no. 2 (2014a): 263–284. Mateo Dieste, Josep Lluís. “La fórmula del genio de la lámpara: Milagros científicos en el Corán en el último cuarto del siglo XX.” Ilu. Revista de Ciencias de las Religiones 19 (2014b): 127–146. Mateo Dieste, Josep Lluís. “‘Spirits Are Like Microbes’: Islamic Revival and the Definition of Morality in Moroccan Exorcism.” Contemporary Islam: Dynamics of Muslim Life 9, no. 1 (2015): 45–63. Naamouni, Khadija. Le culte de Bouya Omar. Casablanca: Éditions Eddif, 1995. Needham, Rodney, ed. Right and Left. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1973. Porter, Venetia. Arabic and Persian Seals and Amulets in the British Museum. London: The British Museum, 2011. Rachik, Hassan. “Roumi et beldi: Réflexions sur la perception de l’occidental à travers une dichotomie locale.” Egypte-Monde arabe 30–31 (1997): 293–302.

120

J. L. MATEO DIESTE

Radi, Saadia. “Croyance et référence: L’utilisation de l’Islam par le Fqih et par la shuwâfa à Khénifra (Maroc).” In L’islam pluriel au Maghreb, edited by Sophie Ferchiou, 189–199. Paris: CNRS Éditions, 1996. Rhani, Zakaria. “‘Le chérif et la possédée’: Sainteté, rituel et pouvoir au Maroc,” L’Homme 2009/2, no. 190 (2009): 27–50. Rosander, Eva Evers. Women in a Borderland: Managing Muslim Identity where Morocco Meets Spain. Stockholm: Gotab, 1991. Rothenberg, Celia E. Spirits of Palestine: Gender, Society, and Stories of the Jinn. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2004. Roy, Oliver. Globalized Islam: The Search for a New Ummah. New York, Paris: Columbia University Press, Centre d’Études et de Recherches Internationales, 2004. Sanson, Dawne. “Cosmopolitanism, Neo-Shamans and Contemporary M¯aori Healers in New Zealand.” In Cosmopolitanism, Nationalism, and Modern Paganism, edited by Kathryn Rountree, 221–243. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017. Sax, William S. “The Reality of 21st Century Islamic Healing: An Interview with a Muslim healer.” Curare 36, no. 3 (2013): 68–71. Spadola, Emilio. The Calls of Islam: Sufis, Islamists, and Mass Mediation in Urban Morocco. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2014. Vignet-Zunz, Jacques. “Une paysannerie de montagne productrice de Fuqaha’: Les Jbala. Rif Oriental. Maroc.” Annuaire de l’Afrique du Nord XXXIII (1993): 201–220. Wallace, Anthony F. C. “Revitalization Movements.” American Anthropologist 58, no. 2 (1956): 264–281. Westermarck, Edward. Ritual and Belief in Morocco, 2 vols. New York: New Hyde Park, 1968 [1926].

CHAPTER 7

Healing, Agency, and Life Crisis Among British Pakistani Ruqya Patients Andreas Gadeberg Nielsen

Jin and Illness---Superstition or a Serious Matter? Throughout history and across religions and peoples, illness, misfortune, and suffering have been ascribed to the influence of evil spirits and magic.1 In fact, similar beliefs are still found in all the major world religions (Dein and Illaiee 2013) and often seem to coexist and interact with biomedical understandings of illness. The fact that the connection between spirit possession and mental illness is a major cultural phenomenon should be appreciated here in order to understand that we are not just dealing with something found in rare or “exotic” branches of Islam. On the contrary, the belief that spirits can affect your well-being and ultimately drive you mad is part of theology, belief, and practice in many Muslim communities. However, the extent to which jin can affect human life is a highly contested topic, dependent on cultural and historical circumstances (Dein et al. 2008, 32). Many Muslims I have met during fieldwork and elsewhere have explained that, from their perspectives, there is an excessive belief in

A. G. Nielsen (B) Aarhus, Denmark © The Author(s) 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4_7

121

122

A. G. NIELSEN

stories about black magic and jin in Muslim communities. They do believe in the existence of jin, in accordance with the Quran and the Sunna of the Prophet, but see most jin stories as superstition. During my four-month fieldwork in the region of West Yorkshire in northern England during spring 2015, the caretaker in a mosque that I frequented daily would jokingly burst out as he saw me, “Ah! Here comes the ghostbuster.” Similarly, many would distance themselves from superstition and “ghost stories” first thing upon learning of my research topic and struggled to combine an open belief in jin with identities as modern Muslims. For others, however, jin possession is in fact experienced as a highly serious matter connected to severe life crisis, mental health issues, and social problems that are to be dealt with in the right manner practically, morally, religiously, and by purifying the heart, which is often conceptualized in classical Islamic theology as the main moral and ethical faculty of the body. In cases of believed spirit possession, many seek out imams and others who claim to be experienced in dealing with these phenomena. Both healers and patients come in many shapes, adhere to a wide range of beliefs and practices, and often engage in various antagonistic contestations about how to diagnose and deal with jin possession. The aim here is not to judge in any such struggles, but rather to take the patient’s perspective as the point of departure. One of the main contributions of social science, and perhaps notably of medical anthropology, in this context is to create openings for new understandings of what it means to be a patient under these specific circumstances and how life crisis and mental health issues among Muslim migrants are dealt with on a local level in everyday lives. To this end, here we will examine the extended patient cases of two British men of Pakistani descent, Ali and Usman, and thus explore ethnographically how agency and healing interplay as important aspects of recovery processes for ruqya patients.

The Ruqya Revival Among South Asian Migrants in the UK My respondents in West Yorkshire have at some point in their lives rediscovered an Islam different from that of their parents’ generation. Sometimes older-generation Muslims have been condemned as immoral traditionalists and at other times pitied as backward and less-resourceful Muslims who “did not know any better.” Especially the practice of forcing

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

123

their children into arranged marriages is vehemently criticized. Younger British Muslims are distancing themselves from these practices, sometimes as part of processes of revitalizing what they understand as classical or true Islam. Interestingly, they often accepted the media’s critique of Islam and backward Muslims, but at the same time, they reoriented themselves toward “traditional” or “South Asian” Islam and “Pakistani culture.” “True” or “pure” Islam was seen as going hand in hand with “old British values,” like being well-mannered, gentle, modest, and humble, virtues they believed the British, like the South Asians, have largely forgotten over time. In Friday sermons and everyday conversations, these virtues were used interchangeably with religiously understood virtues like thankfulness, patience (Arab. sabr), sincerity, and trust in God (Arab. tawakkul ). Teaching me about the moral character of the Prophet Muhammad, one imam even told me, “Muhammad was a true gentleman.” This way of combining Britishness with a return to observant and pious forms of Islamic religiosity can be understood as a creative construction of a dual identity that seemed present in some of the relatively new and still largely undefined local piety movements. In the local mosques, some mentioned that there had been a growth in religious healers (Arab. sg. al-r¯ aq¯ı) during the last five to ten years. According to one respondent, the reason that ruqya treatment had become more widespread was simply because there was more magic in today’s world. The closer the world moves to Judgment Day (qiy¯ amat ka din), the more divided the Muslims will become. Magic is seen here as a cause and symptom of division among Muslims who use religiously illicit magical means in a desperate attempt to control what is out of their hands. The unlawful nature of using black magic for your own immediate this-worldly gains is seen as part of the moral demise of Muslims who have lost contact to important virtues. In this apocalyptic version, ruqya is seen as an important part of the defense of the righteous against the attempts from Satan (Arab. sg. shayt.¯ an) and his army to tempt, corrupt, and cause divisions. Developing Islamic virtues and obtaining religious purity is here understood as the best, if not the only, defense against everything from immorality and depression to possessing jinn and evil magicians. According to others, the spread of healing practices considered to be based on Quran and Sunna is occurring simply because Muslims are becoming well educated again. The “proper” and “classical” ways of healing are thus re-emerging as large-scale phenomena, because Muslims

124

A. G. NIELSEN

have once again started to study the religious scriptures and live accordingly. The use of modern technology is seen as an important tool in the spread of religious knowledge, for instance through social media. The famous British Muslim boxer Amir Khan’s Instagram pictures of his cupping (Arab. h.ij¯ ama)2 treatment, together with YouTube videos of ruqya treatments, are often-mentioned examples of the popularization of Islamic healing through social media among my respondents. Ruqya clinics also sometimes have their own Facebook pages, and a great variety of religious healers can be found in online and newspaper advertisements. I told the imam in one of the mosques where I often attended prayer about my project and that I was interested in the connection between various illnesses and hardships and how these were connected to belief in jin and black magic (k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u ). He immediately liked the project and told me that this was in fact “a very hot topic” among Muslim scholars today. According to him, ruqya healing had become widespread in the UK only within “the last ten years or so”. The (re)emergence of ruqya as a large-scale cultural phenomenon can be understood as a ruqya “revival” (Dieste 2014, 51). Quranic healers are incorporating the methodologies and vocabulary of secular science to prove the materiality of the jin and their effects on the bodies of the possessed (Dieste 2014, 45–46). The return to classical Islam sometimes seems to entail a form of adaptation in which scientific and religious knowledge are combined in a unified discourse. In this way, the rhetoric of the Medicine of the Prophet (tib-e-nabvi) and knowledge of how to heal spirit possession and black magic affliction through Quranic recitation is mixed with technical biomedical terms. The ruqya revival is thus connected to a processual scientification of Islam and to a broader process of increasing religiosity and returns to scripturalism in the Muslim minority (Roy 2009). Another way of explaining this revival is as a reaction to the sociopolitical situation that my respondents find themselves in. On the patient level, we can understand ruqya as something that becomes necessary when life has gone wrong and life crisis is imminent and requires urgent action. To consider the multiplicity of problems, misfortunes, life crises, and disorders reported by ruqya patients, we have to consider the difficulties and traumas of minority life and migration. Muslim migration from the South Asian colonies slowly started during the colonial era, but became large scale in the 1950s and 1960s. In search of better living conditions, many migrated to the UK. Most of these migrants were from rural

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

125

areas in Pakistan, northern India, and Bangladesh (Jones 2013, 552– 553). The riots and civil war leading to the partition of India in 1947 (and the creation of the Pakistani nation-state) left around 14 million people displaced (Dube 2015, 55). Some of these migrants went to the UK following state initiatives to acquire the unskilled labor needed in the UK after the world wars. Especially the textile industry in northern England saw a large proportion of South Asian labor migrants. The industrial collapse and economic decline in the mid-1970s left many unemployed (Webster 2003, 101– 102). Respondents proudly told me about the largest textile factory in Yorkshire, located in the Harehills in Leeds, which is still considered an “Asian area”. Today, there are no more cotton mills, and on the hill where the big textile factory used to be, you now find one of the largest Barelwi mosques in the UK. According to Colin Webster, the unemployment and social deprivation resulting from the decline in the textile industry played a key role in increasing racial tensions (Webster 2003, 96). These tensions between Muslim minorities and the majority populations spiked further with the large demographic growth of the South Asian Muslim population, caused mainly by family reunification in the 1960s and 1970s (McLoughlin 2006, 1050). The number of Muslim migrants coming to certain areas in northern England has been the focus of public debates on the perceived Islamic “threat” to “the English way of life” locally and nationally (McLoughlin 2006, 1048). During the 1970s and 1980s, the institutionalization of Islam provided Muslims in the UK with means to maintain connections to Islamic institutions in their countries of origin, from which religious scholars and leaders started migrating to the UK. The communities around most religious institutions largely remained aloof from British society, most likely because many still remembered the horrors of the partition in 1972 and colonial rule and because of fears that their children would become too influenced by British culture and forget their cultural and religious heritage (Jones 2013, 553). With the migration, some of the regional conflicts from the South Asian political landscape traveled to the UK. One such divide is between the Deobandis and the Barelwis, who still constitute the two largest denominations of Muslims in the UK (Jones 2013, 550). This conflict dates back to the days of British colonial rule in India, where the Barelwis employed a strategy of allegiance with the British against the Hindu majority. The Deobandi movement, on the other hand, gained social

126

A. G. NIELSEN

ground through resistance to British occupation and to Barelwi collaboration. Although both denominations follow the Hanafi school of law, there are theological differences. Barelwis follow a form of devotional Sufi Islam originating from Bareilly in northern India. Deobandi scholars criticize certain Barelwi beliefs, for instance that the Prophet is a being made of light, which is seen as conflicting with notion that Muhammad was a human being. Certain saint-related practices, like tomb veneration and socioreligious power structures related to Sufism, were condemned for elevating holy men (sg. p¯ır) to God-like status and thus equating them with God (shirk). These denominations are represented in West Yorkshire by a large proportion of Kashmiri Barelwis in both Bradford and Leeds and at the European Deobandi headquarters located in Kirklees (Jones 2013, 553; Brown 1997). This conflict is one of the main dividers among South Asians in the UK, but respondents did not see themselves as part of it. For many British-born Muslims of Pakistani descent, the divide between the Deobandis and Barelwis is associated with the older generations and seen as a result of traditionalist and culturalized practices. The centers for Islamic religious training in Britain have largely been unable to provide Islamic teachings that correspond with the lived experience of the younger generations (Jones 2013, 554; Gilliat-Ray 2006, 66). British-born Muslims’ efforts toward “embedding Islam in British traditions and cultural forms” have to some degree alienated them from forms of Islam associated with their countries of origin (Jones 2013, 561). Respondents seem to follow this development by deemphasizing the importance of ethnicity and affiliation with specific Islamic denominations. Younger Muslims such as my respondents generally understand overcrowding, unemployment, and general social deprivation in the Asian communities as problems caused by conservatism as well as lack of education in older generations of South Asian Muslims whose traditions and lack of Islamic knowledge they criticize. Along these lines, older religious healers are also criticized and their younger counterparts answer the call for the (re)invention of perceived classical forms of religious healing by drawing on a mix of biomedical and Islamic methods of treatment.

Ali’s Treatment: Purifying the Heart “It hurts! Stop burning me!” Ali’s body is shaking violently, and he appears to be screaming in pain as his r¯ aq¯ı Ahmed Hafeez perseveringly continues his fast-paced incantations. Ahmed is holding a microphone in

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

127

front of him. His voice is booming through the small amplifier next to which Ali’s body is twisting and turning on the floor. Beads of sweat are running from Ali’s forehead down his long, well-trimmed black beard and starting to soak from his chest through his long, gray garment as he continues shaking. Suddenly Ali growls in a deep voice, trying to move his torso upward. Firmly but gently, Ahmed puts his hand on Ali’s sweaty forehead and presses his head back onto the pillow on the floor. He reads louder and faster, repeating certain passages from the Quran in what, to me, resembles a form of loud and aggressive speed recitation. It feels like a relief when Ali finally stops shaking and screaming. Ahmed halts his recitation. We agree that Ali definitely reacted to the treatment this time, but that something was still left inside him. We declared our hopes that he would be cured so he could get his life back on track and start living a normal life. Soon the jin would leave and the j¯ ad¯ u be gone, insh¯ a’ All¯ ah! Ali’s intense screaming and shaking was believed to be caused by a jin possessing his body. The reading of the Quran burns jin and reminds them of their possible punishment of hellfire in the hereafter (¯ akhirat ). In this way, ruqya is an attempt to scare jin into leaving, since if they refuse, they might end up being killed by the burning. Sometimes during ruqya, jin speak through the patient, often in a distorted voice, and in this way, the unseen is given an audible manifestation. It is disputed whether the healer should engage in conversations with the jin. Some argue that the goal of ruqya is to make a jin convert to Islam, say the shah¯ adat, and leave because it realizes that possessing a human is not acceptable in Islam. Others argue that jin can never be trusted and that any conversation with them is therefore futile. The voice of a jin can lie, curse, and deceive, but sometimes, as in Ali’s treatment, it mainly screams in pain. Ruqya sometimes creates intense, aggressive bodily reactions in patients that can require restraining. The r¯ aq¯ı is trying to force jin to leave the body against their will, and this process often entails a form of ritualized violence. Physical and symbolic violence in healing might seem frightening or alien at first, but might actually be a key aspect of its transformative potential. During ruqya healing sessions like Ali’s, I would mainly be an observer sitting there, sometimes for hours, listening to recitation of the Quran. Participation was possible for me only before and after the incantations, when I was part of conversations between healers and patients. What to me resembled a form of talk therapy became an important site of knowledge production, as it gave me an opportunity to explore what kind of

128

A. G. NIELSEN

guidance r¯ aq¯ıs give their patients and what kind of self-transformations the treatment might enable. On the first night that Ali was treated by Ahmed Hafeez, there was no shaking or screaming. Ali simply lay on the floor listening to Ahmed’s recitation while I sat in the corner. Afterward, they had a long conversation with the following exchange of words: Ahmed: “Listen, this treatment is based purely on Quran and Sunna. No magic tricks or anything, okay? So the main task in fact lies with you. How you are as a person. How you pray and so on and if you have a strong faith (¯ım¯ an)… Can I ask you, do you believe that this jin will leave your body by the will of Allah?” Ali: “I don’t know. It has been there so long, you see. I can’t get my thoughts straight and I used to be slack with my prayers and all that. I got completely depressed. Sometimes I couldn’t even get out of bed.” Ahmed: “It is the jin that makes you think like that. That is what it wants you to think. To confuse you so you don’t pray.” Ali: “But why does the reading [Quranic recitation] not affect the jin?” Ahmed: “It might be hiding. I don’t know. All¯ ahu a lam (God knows best). But listen, you have to believe, that is the key, otherwise the reading won’t help you. Actually, I want you to say it, that you believe that this jin will leave your body by the will of Allah. Otherwise I can’t treat you.” Ali: “I am not sure.” Ahmed “In fact, you are putting us all at risk here if you don’t pray and you don’t believe. You have to declare it. That is the beginning. Then we can tackle your problems.” Ali: “Okay. I believe that the jin will leave… By the will of God [looking at Ahmed who is nodding his head and smiling]. I really want it to leave so I can start living a normal life again. Please help me [now looking down].” Ahmed: “Okay. That is very important. You know that? In fact, you have come a long way already and this is only your first treatment. What we have to do is simply to change that mentality. You have to think more positively.”

At the core of Ahmed’s treatment was a strong belief in God and in the healing effects of prayer and positive thinking. This mix of religious and psychological understandings of healing is quite prevalent in ruqya practices in West Yorkshire. When rediscovering Islam, beliefs in the unseen (al-ghayb) are sometimes reworked and revitalized. Healing from

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

129

possession was seen as depending on Ali’s faith and the sincerity and moral character of his actions. He came to understand his negative thoughts as an evil influence coming from the jin and thus not something that was part of his “normal self,” as he referred to it. The way to get Ali’s life back on track, as Ahmed and Ali saw it, was to become a more pious Muslim, develop Islamic virtues, and start thinking more positively. In this way, Ali was seeking to reimagine himself as a morally good human being. After Ali’s treatment went on for weeks, finally the jin could not take the burning anymore and left his body. However, Ali would keep visiting Ahmed. In these following sessions, Ahmed would read over Ali, but mainly they would talk and discuss what had happened and how to proceed. They agreed that Ali should keep seeing his psychiatrist, because the jin could still have “left him in a depressed state.” Although the jin was gone for now, Ali’s moral and psychological struggles were not. For some healers, the transfer to biomedical institutions and psychiatry seemed unproblematic, most likely because they have grown up with and are familiar with the British healthcare system. In their own treatments, many healers also strive to work from a psychological as well as a spiritual and religious point of view. In interviews, Ali would often talk about the role of the heart and about how “purifying the heart” was essential to his improvement. Among Muslims and in Islamic theology, diseases are often understood as located in the heart and to be of a moral nature. The heart is connected to ethics in a way in which “to become moral” and abstain from sin and to “purify” or “treat” the heart are understood and experienced as related. “Being a good Muslim” is very much bound to the believer’s ability to purify the heart, but the heart can fall ill and the believer be led astray. When depression and life crisis become insurmountable, knowledge about illnesses of the heart and their cures becomes important. It is believed that lack of faith can leave the believer ill, and so faith is thought to have the potential to cure the afflicted. Sincere prayer is seen as very central in this respect, but sometimes when the believer is down in a hole, depressed, anxious, and hopeless, prayer can become difficult. In these situations of illness and life crisis, ruqya is believed to be an important remedy to purify the heart and get one’s life back on track.

Usman’s Story Usman, a 26-year-old British-born Muslim of Punjabi origin, was to marry a girl from the Punjab region in rural Pakistan, who was then to

130

A. G. NIELSEN

move to the UK on a family reunification visa. He was not particularly happy with the situation, but decided to go through with the marriage to be a good son. He was especially worried that she spoke little English and had different ideas about religion. Usman wanted his family to be wellintegrated and well educated and, in this way, to show the surroundings how “real Islam” and Britishness worked well hand in hand. It was Muhannad who introduced me to Usman. He had been treating both of Usman’s two older sisters, who had married into the same family of first cousins (see kinship chart below). After marrying, both of Usman’s sisters had developed anxiety attacks and instances of memory loss and, according to Usman, were very unhappy with their marriages. According to Muhannad, all three siblings shared similar symptoms caused by k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u and jin possession. The in-laws were from the mother’s side of the family, and according to Usman and Muhannad, the family problems in this group of relatives dated back several generations. In Pakistani demonology, it is not rare to hear stories of someone who is believed to have a special relationship with one or more jin, sometimes referred to as ¯ amil.3 From the point of view of Sufism, this kind of positive relationship with jin can be cultivated in certain rituals and meditative practices believed to have the potential to use the supernatural powers of jin for healing purposes. From a neo-orthodox perspective, this kind of relationship with jin is considered forbidden and will therefore most likely end up with jin manipulating the healer and not the other way around. So, from this perspective, a person in a relationship with a jin needs healing and is not someone you should seek out for help. They are considered to be possessed madmen, not healers. It is seen as a big problem that people put their faith in “fake healers,” rather than in God. According to Muhannad, the problems in Usman’s family date back to such a person in rural Punjab. By treating four siblings from the same family, he had gathered substantial insight into the family history. Apparently, in their village, Usman’s great-grandfather was considered a healer who was in contact with the spirit world. He had deliberately let himself be possessed in order to heal others. According to Muhannad, the jin possessing Usman was the same that his great-grandfather had contacted many years ago in Pakistan. It has been causing problems from generation to generation. Usman came to see his problems as stemming from his wife and her mother’s use of love magic against him. Usman told me how they had brought amulets with religious writings (t¯ aw¯ız) from Pakistan and how she would spike his food with love magic t¯ aw¯ız and

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

131

Viagra to make him desire her and thus sustain the marriage. However, Usman was very worried about this use of magic, which he found not only extremely frightening, but also a backward cultural practice with no place in the life of a modern British Muslim. He felt alienated by what he saw as “Pakistani culture” and started to see the problems in his life not just as coming from his wife and in-laws, but also as coming from a corrupted version of Islam passed on to him from his parents. Initially, he did not believe that he was possessed, but felt sure that the in-laws were performing some sort of magic on him. When he told his parents about his worries, they recommended not to confront the in-laws. Instead, he was to go to a specific local Pir with whom they had a relation. Although skeptical about this method, he did as his parents told him and got the t¯ aw¯ız from the Pir to wear for protection against k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u. T¯ aw¯ız is quite complicated in this context, because it can be used for healing as well as for malicious purposes and has different effects, depending on whom you ask. One Muslim considers a small amulet with Quranic verses inside worn around the neck a healing remedy, another sees it as black magic. Usman did not feel that the t¯ aw¯ız from his pir was helping. His sister had suggested that he should go and see a r¯ aq¯ı whom she believed based his treatment “purely on Quran and Sunna” and who did not use t¯ aw¯ız. In this way, he was introduced to Muhannad. The first thing Muhannad did was to remove Usman’s t¯ aw¯ız, open and show it to him to prove, that it did not contain Islamic elements, but was even a form of polytheism (shirk), because healers were addressing jin rather than God. Meeting Muhannad, Usman had become further convinced that his problems were connected to cultural practices of a non-Islamic nature. He believed that he had suffered from “stress and depression” in this period of his life and explained how his worries and tensions with his in-laws had become “a big black cloud” hanging over his head. He was afraid of his mother-in-law, who would come to their house and interfere in their family matters. In time, Usman had started openly criticizing his in-laws and lecturing them on “real Islam”. The tensions grew to a level at which Usman felt that his life had “come to a halt”. He had stopped his study of medicine and left the house mainly to see a few friends or when he went out for healing. When Muhannad saw the state that he was in, he urged Usman to get a divorce. Initially, Usman was not ready to do this, but did engage in a more intense period of ruqya treatment. At the same time, his parents

132

A. G. NIELSEN

insisted that he keep visiting the Pir, but Muhannad’s objective was to dispel what he saw as the Pir’s magic. When the latter learned about this from Usman, he supposedly threatened to use k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u on Muhannad if he did not stay out of his way. In time, Usman became increasingly convinced that the religious universe of Pirs, t¯ aw¯ız, and j¯ ad¯ u did not contain the answers to his problems; in fact, he came to see it as the cause of his problems. He started paying a lot of attention to reading the religious texts and especially to prayer. As time went on, Usman realized that his in-laws were not going to change their ways. He moved out of the house and declared the divorce from one day to the next. Today, Usman sees this decision as key to his healing, although it alienated him from his in-laws and his own family. At the time of the fieldwork, he spoke only secretly with two of his sisters, who backed him up in his decisions, although they are still both married into this family. Usman had only little contact with his parents, who were still angry with him, as they felt that he had embarrassed them and brought shame on the family. Usman said that he had a bad reputation among his uncles and aunts, and he generally tried to avoid them. They were especially angry with the manner of the divorce. It had given the family poor standing with the mother’s side of the family in Pakistan, which they needed to compensate for in other ways, socially and economically. From their perspective, Usman’s decision was selfish and disregarded his family. Usman and Muhannad, on the other hand, felt that the problem was located in the institution of arranged marriages, especially when it is not a “match in mentality”. In an interview with Muhannad and Usman, they agreed that as long as they kept up their prayers and stayed sincere and righteous in their actions, neither the Pir nor Usman’s relatives could do them any harm. Their k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u would simply be repelled by strong faith (¯ım¯ an). The jin that had possessed Usman until Muhannad managed to exorcise it was of Punjabi origin. This had made the communication with the jin difficult. During ruqya, it had started taking over and speaking through Usman in Punjabi dialect, which Muhannad struggled to understand, being of Kashmiri origin himself. He tried to in vain convince the jin in English and Arabic to convert to Islam and to leave the body in both. Usman and Muhannad agreed that in the end the Punjabi jin had been burned to death because it had been too stubborn to leave. They also believed that the jin mentioned the names of places, other jin, and humans in the area of the village of his great-grandfather in rural Punjab.

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

133

They could not locate precisely where the jin had come from or why, just that it was connected to his relatives from rural Punjab. In a way, not only had jin been burned, but a traditional marriage had been destroyed together with Usman’s connection to his first-generation relatives and to his country of origin in general. Only time will tell, whether transnational relations and the magico-religious universe of Sufi practices will re-emerge in times of crisis as the young grow older, as suggested by Rytter in a Danish context (2013, 207), or if British-born Muslims, like Usman, have distanced themselves from these practices permanently. If you ask Usman, however, t¯ aw¯ız is religiously forbidden (har¯ am), his parents are wrong, and Pakistanis have in general forgotten the moral nature of true Islam out of a desire to illicitly control everything around them, when they ought to leave these matters in the hands of God.

Breaking Arranged ¯ a¯ Jad ¯ u¯ Marriages---Dispelling Kal In the same way as they are distancing themselves from such cultural practices as using t¯ aw¯ız, many younger British Muslims are also distancing themselves from the practice of arranged, and especially forced, marriages prevalent in their parent’s generation and thus often expected of them (Shaw 2014, 27). Among South Asian migrants there has been a “boom in love marriages” (Rytter 2010, 58), partly due to the independence of the younger generation growing up in the minority context, but also due to more strict immigration policies in the Western European nationstates. South Asian Muslims growing up in the minority context generally prefer what we could call arranged love marriages over the otherwise widespread preference for arranged endogamous marriages (Rytter 2010, 57). However, especially among Muslims in Bradford originating from the Mirpur district in northern Punjab, the high rate of arranged cousin marriages with spouses migrating from Pakistan continues (Shaw 2014, 26), and as we saw with Muhannad, it might require great effort to break away from these marriage traditions. Anthropologist Mikkel Rytter suggests that diagnosing Muslims from younger generations with k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u has the potential to allow first-generation Pakistanis in Denmark to regain control in life and reestablish meaningful future horizons in critical life situations (Rytter 2010, 60). He writes, “Rumours and suspicions of k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u constitute a specific allegorical arena which is used to reorganize and make sense of problematic family relations and changing moral

134

A. G. NIELSEN

orders” (2013, 165). Rytter shows how the diagnosis of k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u can work as a way for the older generation to control the younger by accusing them of being afflicted with various forms of love magic carried out by their partners or their in-laws. When the younger British Muslims of Pakistani descent choose love marriages over arranged cousin marriages, it can have a wide range of implications for other family members; sometimes members of the older generations use the diagnosis of k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u to attempt to stabilize the family situation in the wider kinship group (bir¯ adar¯ı) in times characterized by loss of control and insecurity connected to minority life (Rytter 2010, 57–58; 2013, 202). As we shall see here, the younger generation can also accept their diagnoses to accuse someone in the older generation of being a magician or of paying a magician to cause the affliction. The diagnosis is accepted, but the accusation is redirected at the parents or the kinship group. In this way, dispelling k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u in ruqya shar iyya (Arab.) can be seen as a counter-strategy that the younger generations of British Muslims apply to break out of arranged marriages and to break bonds with their kinship groups. Accusing the spouses or potential spouses and their families of immoral un-Islamic behavior, such as using k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u or contacting jin, is used as an argument to break engagements or get divorces. As we saw with Usman, this is often done by accusing the cousin-spouses and their families of trying to create and sustain marriage ties by using black magic and contacting jin, which are felt as continuous hauntings in the lives of ruqya patients even many years after the rearrangement of kinship ties.

Cutting the Network R¯ aq¯ıs sometimes play active roles in separating arranged marriages. When parents are perceived to be following what is seen as non-Islamic traditional practices and as forcing their children into arranged marriages against their will, these strategies are turned against the older generations and used as arguments for breaking engagements or getting desired divorces. This in no way means that neo-orthodox r¯ aq¯ıs do not value marriage. In fact, they take the lawful Islamic marriage very seriously. This is also why they find it important that spouses “match in mentality,” so that they can thrive together and build what they see as good normal families, ideally without conflicts. Essentially, there is a view of marriage as something helping people stay sane, because it directs sexual desires in

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

135

a lawful way and allows for what is perceived as “the normal family”. From the neo-orthodox perspective, not all marriages are considered lawful. Especially the institution of arranged first-cousin marriages has increasingly come under scrutiny and attack (Werbner 2004). Marilyn Strathern directs our attention to the concept of relationality in the anthropological analysis of kinship ties, suggesting that this theoretical notion has been applied too uncritically (Strathern 2005, viii). Kinship structures are changing ever more rapidly, and family ties are being reshaped along new lines. However, disruption and erasure of previous unions come before the reshaping or creation of new relations. Old ties sometimes have to be cut for new combinations to emerge (Strathern 2005, 26–28). Following Rytter, the disruptive aspects of k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u can be interpreted as what Strathern calls “cuts in the network” (Strathern 1996; Rytter 2010, 56). The older generation can use accusations of j¯ ad¯ u as a form of moral judgment of the younger generation and as a resort to try to control their children, who increasingly dismiss traditional arranged marriages in favor of love marriages (Rytter 2010, 58). The cases provided here show how the younger generation can use dispelling k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u as a counter-strategy to break out of arranged marriages both before and after the marriage has been consummated, as in the case of Usman. Rytter argues that the acceptance of the diagnosis of j¯ ad¯ u among the younger generations can serve as a way to reenter the cultural religious universe of the parents and thus reconcile family upheavals in a way that lessens generational distance (Rytter 2013, 196). Contrary to Rytter’s findings, the ethnographic examples above suggest that intergenerational relations are sometimes being completely severed, thus increasing the distance and tensions between generations. Sometimes when the arranged marriage is broken, so too are the relations to in-laws and to one’s own closest family. Ruqya can thus be seen as a way of destroying existing kinship structures resembling a form of disruption and disconnection, rather than as a reordering or re-creation of family relations. On the one hand, this has left Usman quite isolated and without most of his former network, whose absence he felt as a constant haunting and fear of animosity and vengeance. At the same time, he also experiences new opportunities and that his family can no longer hold him back. He believed that sincere prayer had created a shield protecting him against any jin and j¯ ad¯ u. Ruqya can entail quite radical breaks and disruptions, but sometimes it also works to keep marriages together. Returning

136

A. G. NIELSEN

to Ali, we can also see how ruqya can also serve to preserve marriage without breaking kinship ties.

“I just Praise Allah I Still Have My Family”: Preserving Love Marriages In Ali’s treatment, both he and Ahmed Hafeez acknowledged that the magic that had been performed on him could have come from vengeful and jealous relatives, as in Usman’s case. Still, they chose not to dwell on potential issues regarding other members of his kinship group. Instead, Ahmed deliberately omitted a specific aspect of the treatment, often key to the diagnosis of j¯ ad¯ u. By not engaging in conversation with the jin, no guilty relatives were identified. According to Ahmed, questioning a jin is a risky practice because it is a “trickster” out to deceive patient and r¯ aq¯ı alike. You can never trust what a jin says. If you do, it might succeed in its evil mission to cause divisions by lying about who has sent it. Ahmed believes that cases like those from Rytter’s ethnography, in which spouses are accused of performing love magic, are the result of jin or magicians succeeding in spreading lies to break up marriages. In this way, from Ahmed’s perspective, the possessing jin are able to manipulate kinship ties by using the questioning during ruqya to create animosity and divisions between relatives and spouses. From this perspective, the questioning during ruqya can enable the jin to succeed in their evil mission. Therefore, they might leave the body, not because they were frightened by the righteousness and recitation of the r¯ aq¯ı, but because their mission is complete and the family left in ruins. According to Ahmed, this was the reason that many “dodgy healers” had relative success. By stating who had performed the j¯ ad¯ u, whether this was true or a lie, the jin could separate families and cause divisions. By bypassing the practice of questioning the jin, kinship ties can be protected and left out of the equation. In this way, Ali avoided the kind of family dispute that Usman found himself in, because the possibly guilty relatives were not located. Ali told me that he sometimes suspected certain relatives of having performed k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u on him, but that he was trying not to “give into those thoughts”. When he had these suspicions and negative thoughts about his relatives, he would try to remind himself that whatever jin were trying to tell him during ruqya or through evil whispering (wasw¯ as ) was not to be trusted. In some cases, network cuts might be necessary to facilitate healing, but in cases like Ali’s, the role of ruqya is to preserve and sustain kinship,

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

137

rather than to destroy and disrupt it. Whether dispelling k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u and expelling jin entail the preservation or the dissolution of Muslim families, ruqya seems often to be connected to the rearranging of kinship ties among Muslims who are striving to settle and create families. The capacity to develop what is perceived as the normal family is seen as a key sign of good health. Evil forces will try to obstruct the believer from achieving this healthy, sane state. Although this peaceful state of mind and stable family can seem far away in the midst of depression and family conflict, what ruqya patients seem to be hoping for more than anything is exactly that: the normal family. The process of trying to recover from severe life crisis and mental illness in the midst of family conflicts can require help from experts, imams, healers, psychiatrists, and others, who can guide patients in sustaining as well as cutting kinship ties. In this way, it may be possible to create more peaceful social spaces for personal betterment.

Healing, Hope, and Agency in Anthropology and Islam In anthropologist Galina Lindquist’s (2006) terminology, ruqya can be said to “conjure hope.” Her study of magic in post-Soviet Russia shows how hope can be gained, or “conjured,” from engaging in magical practices. By regaining a sense of hope, her informants can re-emerge as actors and change their unfortunate situations by gaining the courage to put something at stake and thus possibly win (Lindquist 2006, 21). Dispelling k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u and expelling jin in ruqya similarly holds the potential to create hope and enable patients to make active changes in their lives, like breaking out of arranged marriages and thus reimagining meaningful futures for themselves and their families. However, an important difference from Lindquist’s analysis is that, among ruqya patients, the attempt to gain control through magical conjuring is seen as har¯ am and as the very thing that needs to be dispelled. The desire to control is sometimes even realized as sinful through acts of worship and ethical self-fashioning in prayer, healing, and everyday life. There seems to be some underlying premise in such anthropological accounts of healing that betterment of the ill self is within the patient’s ability to act upon and change their own circumstances. In this context, magic is seen as a means to gain intentionality, will, and the ability to actively change one’s world.

138

A. G. NIELSEN

Interestingly, these notions of individual autonomy, much celebrated in certain strands of contemporary anthropology (Asad 2000), are understood to some degree negatively from an Islamic point of view. Although healing practices sometimes play a key part in active and creative kinship restructurings, the notion of “taking control” is perceived as negative and is ascribed to traditionalists who use magic to illicitly manipulate other people’s marriages. Intentionality and individual autonomy are not seen as something to be cultivated and celebrated, but also as forms of sinful desire that are therefore to be diminished through continuous acts of worship and submission. The notion of agency in some anthropological accounts celebrating creative individual autonomy appears inadequate, on its own, to understand the processes taking place around ruqya practices. In fact, attempts to gain control and individual autonomy are sometimes seen as what Muhannad called “shortcuts” and “playing God” and as a form of impatient arrogance (kibr). Magical agency, from this perspective, is illicit, something to be avoided and dispelled, not something to be practiced and praised. The whole idea of gaining agency through magical practices is dismissed as un-Islamic and immoral. Magic as a means to manipulate social relations and feelings of autonomy are rejected as a cultural practice carried out by people who do not have patience (sabr), thankfulness (shukr), and reliance on God (tawakkul ). By cultivating these Islamic virtues, patients are believed to develop acceptance that they are not the creators of their life situations. This, however, does not lead to a fatalistic belief that one has no influence in one’s life. What matters from this perspective is how one struggles and strives to become a healthy, sane, and peaceful being. Analytically placing the idea of autonomous agency as the supreme achievement of internal struggle among my respondents would thus overrule their understanding and experience of how healing occurs. Anthropologist Robert Desjarlais reminds us that lack of reflection about preconceived notions of individual autonomy and control can render anthropological analysis of religious healing practices narrow-minded (1995, 171). This critique by Desjarlais is directed toward Thomas Csordas’ seminal work The Sacred Self (1994), which states, “The answer to the question of ‘what it means to be human’ is the same as the answer to the question of ‘how we make ourselves humans.’ This is an enduring premise for cultural anthropology and means that an inquiry into a topic like the ‘sacred self’ is an inquiry into human creativity, and in particular self-creativity” (Csordas 1994, vii). This premise, posited in the opening lines of Csordas’ influential

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

139

work on Catholic healing practices in North America, seems to color his analysis throughout the work. According to Csordas, members of the movement called “The Catholic Charismatic Renewal” take part in “the late-twentieth-century shift away from embracing suffering and self-mortification as an imitation of Christ’s passion, and towards the relief of suffering through divine healing as practiced by Jesus in the gospels” (1994, 25). If there is in fact such a broader “shift” away from “embracing suffering,” then perhaps Islamic neo-orthodoxy can be understood as a moral reaction against the avoidance of pain and a movement toward a kind of re-embracing of pain and suffering. From the point of view of r¯ aq¯ıs in West Yorkshire, pain exists for a reason. Ruqya does not entail any kind self-mortification, but there is a deliberate engagement with and invoking of pain that goes before “the relief of suffering”. Something has to be disrupted and destroyed for something new to appear. To foster change, the pain of life needs to be realized as tests sent from God for a reason. Pain is thus initially to be embraced, rather than avoided, and suffering is to be lived, rather than prematurely relieved, for instance by taking magical shortcuts. Talal Asad argues that anthropology has been informed by what he calls a “triumphalist” notion of agency (2000, 29) in the sense that it celebrates the individualistic self-empowerment of humans actively creating their own worlds and their own history. Agency refers to the willful capacity to act upon, resist, and change the life-worlds in which people find themselves. According to Asad, taking notions of agency for granted might foster an analytical poverty by essentializing the human subject (Asad 2000, 29–30). He suggests that we see notions of agency as belonging to different traditions of thought and that this notion of the autonomous self has been central to the anthropological endeavor. For Asad, this idea of the free agent is contingent on particular historical circumstances and can be seen as a Western construction of the healthy self as based on individual autonomy (Asad 2000, 33). With his critique in mind, other modalities of agency can be explored. As anthropologists, we need to cultivate an openness in our analytical language in order to grasp what healing is and how it occurs locally, if we are not to end up simply reproducing predefined notions of agency. Ethnographic accounts of healing can serve to challenge notions of agency in academic theorization. However, breaking with certain theoretical trends, such as ascribing creative agency to individual actors, might take anthropological analysis too far in the other direction, depicting our respondents as incapable of changing their own

140

A. G. NIELSEN

social worlds. Different notions of agency need to be balanced analytically and can exist side by side. This chapter seeks to challenge the idea of working with or unwearyingly writing based on one theoretical notion of agency.

“God Only Gives You One Heart”: Urgency in Moral Transformations For ruqya patients in West Yorkshire, working on oneself is directed toward cultivating a “good life” with a “normal” family, but also toward the afterlife (¯ akhirat ). Eschatological imaginings seem to give the cultivation of morality and ethical action a sense of urgency. Take for instance this narrative from a dream Ali recounted: in the dream he was at his parents’ old house in Beeston. A black dog, which Ali told me symbolized a jin, was trying to get in, but Ali was struggling to push back the door to keep it out. Just before jumping toward the door to keep his family safe from it, he had handed a plastic box to his mother for her to watch over it. In it was his heart. Eventually the police came and took the dog away, restoring peace. The police according to Ali symbolized angels because they look after people. When he asked his mother for his heart, he discovered that she had carelessly stowed it away on top of the fridge. He became angry with her for this disregard of human life and explained to her that the heart is the most precious thing humans have. I asked him how it made him feel to see his heart in this way in the dream: “You have to take good care of it. This is why we pray and why we fast. To become disciplined, but also to have love in our hearts. So, I was sad, of course, to see it in such a state lying there in a plastic box and everything. You really have to take good care of it. God only gives you one heart, you know.” This quote seems to highlight the urgency with which moral transformations occur for pious Muslims. People receive only one chance to be good in life, which will determine the nature of the afterlife. To have the heart in the right place and to “become moral” is also what allows a life relatively free of suffering. Or at least a life in which suffering is perceived as meaningful because it is part of a transformative process in which the heart is being purified and directed toward God. This kind of urgency of moral transformation can also be seen more broadly in processes of rediscovering Islam. As mentioned, there is a firm belief among respondents that their parents’ generation, their countries of origin, and even Muslims as such have forgotten the moral nature of

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

141

“true Islam” in favor of identarian displays of religious belonging. R¯ aq¯ıs are inviting their patients back to what they see as true Islam. This invitation deliberately has an element of proselytizing (d¯ aw¯ a ) to it, but also serves to give the patients certain tools to understand and act upon their suffering in new ways. In these healing encounters, they face the complicated task of inviting patients to engage in a dual process in which they should ideally leave healing in the hands of God, but at the same time actively take action. This ambivalent notion of agency seems to revolve around a dialectical movement between realizing healing as God-given through moral work on the self and at the same time making active changes like breaking out of arranged marriages. Ali’s vision of what needed be done seemed quite straightforward. By thinking positively and fostering the good within himself, he seeks to please God and receive divine healing and mercy, enabling him to keep jin and j¯ ad¯ u at bay. But sometimes becoming moral is no easy task. When I returned to the field four months after returning to Denmark, Ali had experienced a setback. He was certain that some new j¯ ad¯ u had afflicted him, which made him despair, and he was struggling to get a job and to be a good father and husband. He also feared that his wife had now become possessed and that they would pass on their ailments to their children. Ruqya had enabled Ali to engage in a process of ethical struggle, but had not cured him completely. As all respondents agreed, the main task of healing though moral transformations was located outside the ruqya ritual in the everyday practices of the believer. Ali expressed how he had done all he could to put his trust in God, but that it was difficult. Except for praying, he was not always sure exactly what to do.

Ambivalence of Agency in Self-cultivation According to Christian Suhr, ruqya patients “autonomously choose to obey the divine doctrines” (Suhr 2013, 163). From this perspective, we can see the healing capabilities of ruqya as located in patients’ relinquishing control over their own lives. Suhr sees self-sacrifice as central to the way ruqya operates and suggests, “What needs to be sacrificed in the Islamic treatments is the idea that autonomous and rational control of one’s actions is possible – that ultimately one could be the master of one’s own life” (ibid., 163). Other anthropological accounts of religious healing, like those of Lindquist (2006) and Csordas (2005), have focused

142

A. G. NIELSEN

on individual capacity and self-creativity and have placed healing potential within patients’ capacity to think and act differently. Informed by Talal Asad’s critique of uncritically adopted notions of triumphalist agency in Western academia, Suhr suggests that the healing in ruqya treatment does not work through individual agency, but through the application of “external non-human force” that serves to “overrule the destructive powers within a human body” (Suhr 2013, 170). Thus, in Suhr’s account, agency is not something to be regained in order to heal, but rather something to be defeated and overcome. He is not arguing that ruqya patients do not have agency, but that agency can be “an obstacle to healing” (Suhr 2013, 170). This point is interesting for present purposes because it resonates with West Yorkshire r¯ aq¯ıs’ focus on “letting go of control”. Ruqya patients’ recognition that they are actually not in control of their own healing seems to be of key importance to understand how this form of healing operates. Within the actual ritual, Ali is allowed to let go of control and let his body “do what it has to do.” He seems to be temporarily surrendering himself to the uncontrollable forces of the jin and k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u within him, but also to the agency of the healer, and most importantly he is able to surrender and submit to the divine agency of Allah. At the same time, r¯ aq¯ıs sometimes call for patients to actively engage in the process of change. In West Yorkshire, this kind of action suggested by the r¯ aq¯ıs often revolved around kinship conflicts in which the purpose of dispelling k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u and exorcising jin can either sustain or dissolve families and kinship groups. As the dispellers of occult attacks, r¯ aq¯ıs were often in opposition to and battling the agency of the invisible force within their patients. If a jin was believed to be trying to break up a family, as in Ali’s case, the r¯ aq¯ı will try to sustain and preserve the family, as Ahmed did by not questioning the jin and thus avoiding kinship disruptions. When love magic was performed to preserve Usman’s marriage, Muhannad advised divorce. Patients sometimes do manage to actively make these cuts in the network as part of their struggle with invisible forces. In this process, ruqya seems to facilitate a renewed sense of agency and ability to actively create the normal family. This does not mean that ruqya patients perceive themselves as being either in complete control or completely powerless. Rather, I would suggest that the ethical struggle of ruqya patients is located within a dialectical movement between feeling powerless and feeling in control. Ruqya treatment seems to offer an arena for these

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

143

internal tensions to unfold. Ahmed Hafeez’s treatment of Ali seemed to contain this dialectic. During the treatment, Ali would lose control of his body and shake, scream, and curse. The recitation left him powerlessly observing his own bizarre and perverted behavior as he was growling and cursing, a behavior he considered far from what he called his “normal self”. At the same time as containing this kind of realization of powerlessness and submission of agency, something else seems to be at stake in ruqya treatments. When refusing to treat Ali unless he stated that he believed that the jin would actually leave his body as an effect of the ruqya, Ahmed was in a way forcing Ali to take responsibility. In this way, the capacity for betterment was somehow located in Ali’s capacity to believe. As long as he was on the path to righteousness and kept up with his ritual prayer (nam¯ az) and prayer of supplication (du¯ a ), he would be protected against unseen forces. His psychiatrist could help him with the psychological impact made by the jin, and the rest was up to himself and God. One example is how he wanted to make himself more aware of his anger issues. Now that the jin is gone, there is no excuse for getting angry with the kids all the time or angry with myself. For instance, the other day at the shop, I forgot the debit card and had to go back. Normally, I would get angry maybe even start acting out, you know, like a lunatic, but this time I simply kept calm… like a normal human being would do. Went home and got it and there was no problem. This is how it should be, inshaallah. The Quran speaks of this. We gotta have that patience in our lives. Sabr is so important. You know this.

This example suggests that, in Ali’s pursuit of healing, there is also a regained sense of agency and control. By cultivating sabr, he felt that he could stay calm in situations that might have been difficult or humiliating for him before. Ali’s understanding of his own healing process seems to contain this ambivalence between the capacity to act and the realization of his inability to act, seen for instance in the previously quoted statement that human are “weak creatures”. One thing that struck me about this statement of Ali’s is that he was not directly addressing his own weakness and powerlessness, but rather making a general statement. It is not just the madman who is powerless, but humans as such. For Ali, being weak is not just something ascribed specifically to his illness, but to the human condition. In this way, the realization of the struggle to “become normal”

144

A. G. NIELSEN

is facilitated by the realization of the struggle “as normal”: as something all humans most unavoidably engage in. As he said, “Even you, Andreas, will feel this.” Usman’s pursuit of betterment, as we have seen, contained active engagement with his life situation. It was not only his capacity to recognize his own powerlessness and to cultivate patience that brought about the changes associated with Muhannad’s ruqya treatment. It was also his capacity to act. As we saw, he did manage to break out of his arranged marriage after Muhannad had dispelled the love magic contained in the in-laws’ t¯ aw¯ız. After the cut was successful, the main way to protect himself from attacks and to stay sane was to pray. Agency in the context of jin possession cannot be seen solely as something good that heals and enables. Self-transformations are also brought about by the recognition of one’s powerlessness and that one’s desires are sinful. Agency in this sense can be seen as something evil inside you that needs to be overcome for healing to take place. Paradoxically it is also something that at the same time needs to be gained to actively restructure kinship. In this specific context, the potential for healing seems to be located within the tension between a modality of agency characterized by taking control and another characterized by letting go of control. Developing the ability to move between such modalities of agency perhaps points toward new understandings of what healing is in ways that go beyond debates about Muslim minorities and ruqya. Although this form of treatment might seem violent and alien to the Western eye, it can show us important aspects of how healing takes place and about implicit culturally founded beliefs within our own healthcare systems that we should have the courage to challenge and develop.

“Ruqya Is for Those Who Cannot Pray”---Perceptions of Mental Health and Prayer R¯ aq¯ıs and patients saw prayer as one of the most important aspects of healing from occult afflictions and also of staying protected. Muslims in general regard prayer as a very important part of Islam. According to Ahmed Hafeez, if the believer’s faith is strong enough, k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u cannot harm him or her. In fact, in attempts to perform k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u on someone with strong sincere faith and disciplined religious practice, the magic can harm the magician instead. In this way, the disruptive force of the occult attacks is redirected back at the one performing the practice perceived

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

145

as illicit. Prayer is believed to have this kind of outer effect of repelling external forces trying to control the believer and lead him or her astray. To grasp how prayer helps vulnerable ruqya patients, closer descriptions of the experience of Muslim prayer are needed. Respondents seemed to agree that prayer was a way to become a calm person and that prayer contained a form of healing (shif¯ a ). In the beginning of the fieldwork, I expressed my interest in mental health issues and how it related to k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u and jin possession. One of the most common responses was a subtle rejection: “There is no madness in Islam.” At first, I thought that the private nature of mental health issues was the reason that they would not admit that this problem existed in their communities. In time, I discovered that there was more to these rejecting statements. Talking about prayer and learning how to pray taught me that prayer is believed to keep any sort of madness at bay by keeping the believer peaceful and nurturing Islamic virtues by being closer to God. That there is no madness in Islam does not mean that a Muslim cannot become mad. It means that if the believer manages to follow Islam he will be at peace, and if his faith is strong enough, evil forces cannot harm him and madness cannot take its hold. It is a general belief that religion heals and keeps healthy. When madness, family conflicts, and life crisis come creeping into the lives of believers anyway, it is often attributed to a lack of religion and sincere religious practice in their lives. One day I went to the mosque with Ali. Entering the local mosque, we entered directly the area for ritual cleansing before prayer (wuz¯ u). Before the ablution, one is to have the intention for the act (niyyat ) and then say bismill¯ ah (in the name of God). This day Ali seemed very focused. He said bismill¯ ah with closed eyes, and we did the ablution in silence and joined the crowd in the prayer hall. Whereas Ali would sometimes stay behind and talk with me until the prayer began, this day he went directly to the first row and sat down with his eyes closed waiting for the Imam to begin the evening prayer (nam¯ az maghrib). I noticed that Ali was crying during the prayer. It was not uncommon to see people sobbing during prayer, especially with the recitation technique (tajw¯ıd) and voice of this particular Imam. In the period after the jin had left Ali’s body, he was very strict with his nam¯ az and du ¯ a s, but I had never seen him so emotionally engaged in prayer. When the prayer ended and the congregation dispersed, Ali stood back and added some voluntary prayers (naw¯ afil ). I sat on the floor waiting for him, and after maybe ten minutes of naw¯ afil prostrations, he approached me with a smile, “Let’s

146

A. G. NIELSEN

go get some brew.” We went for tea at the small cafe where we always went. I asked him how his prayer was. He explained how he had felt a level of tranquility in prayer (Arab. khush¯ u ). “In prostration (sujud), I was close to God, nothing to be afraid of. It is the most beautiful you can experience.” After tea, I asked if he thought that he would ever need ruqya again. I hope not insh¯ a’ All¯ ah, but you can never be certain. As humans, we can never be certain, but you know my problem before was that I couldn’t pray properly. I felt distracted all the time. Even in the mosque during prayer, I would get these negative thoughts… the wasw¯ as. The jin was playing with me, you see. Now that it is gone, I can pray again al-h.amdu lill¯ ah. Ruqya is for those who cannot pray. I think I am starting to become a bit more patient now. Right now, I feel like I’m at peace, you know. There is peace in my heart. This is how it should be in Islam.

Prayer seemed to offer Ali moments of peace in which he appeared very hopeful that everything was going in the right direction. At other times, he was less optimistic and seemed to struggle more. He feared that perhaps there was still some k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u left in him or perhaps this was something the psychiatrist could help him with: “As long as I do both measures, I hope I’ll be fine, insh¯ a’ All¯ ah. I have to stop getting so angry.” Sabr was the virtue that Ali talked about the most. By cultivating perseverance, he believed that he would be able to control his sexual desires and his temper. He saw prayer as the key to this end. The silence of prayer sometimes seemed to offer him these glimpses of hope when he believed in his own ability to be a good person, but the struggle and moral transformations would go on in continuous ups and downs. Ali’s example seems to suggest that hope appears in some moments, only to be lost again in others. This movement between hope and hopelessness is seen as part of the struggle that the believer must endure.

Coexisting Healing Traditions R¯ aq¯ıs and their patients draw on a combination of classical theological and scientific biomedical vocabulary in their understanding of illnesses and healing processes. Both Islamic and biomedical healing practices are criticized for “playing God” by trying to control the uncontrollable. On the one hand, patients are to let go of control and submit to the fact

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

147

that healing is in the hands of God. On the other hand, they are also thoroughly reminded to take responsibility for their own actions and to change their mentality and attitude toward life, a form of active change that sometimes involves breaking out of arranged marriages. Healing traditions not only coexist, they are also becoming increasingly intertwined. The ability of religious healing to incorporate scientific terminology and to use the knowledge readily available in the context of Western societies to help often highly vulnerable patients is an important part of its appeal to the younger generation. Ruqya allows for new trajectories of agency to develop through processes in which the feeling of being in control is either regained, relinquished, or both at once. The simultaneity of taking and letting go of control is a paradox that r¯ aq¯ıs and their patients seem to be maneuvering with as an unavoidable part of the struggle that patients go through. Ritual violence within the ruqya treatment facilitates new ways of engaging with pain and thus new trajectories for perceptual agency. By cursing and screaming as a perverted version of themselves during ruqya, patients are allowed, through the perceived agency of the jin, to accuse, judge, and to be aggressive, violent, perverse, and egoistic—essentially all that their religion forbids. This amplified perversion within the patient needs to be expelled or killed. The evil influence is conquered, at least temporarily, through ritual self-destruction. This can be seen as a radical way of dealing with pain and suffering. This kind of amplification seemingly stands in contrast to modern, secular ideas of healing that seek to avoid pain, rather than engaging with it. Perhaps part of the appeal of ruqya lies in its capacity to enable inner as well as outer transformation.

Concluding Remarks Arguably, ethnography and academic writing has been too far removed from clinical reality and the encounter between Muslim patients, healers, and clinicians. Ethnographic knowledge can be used actively in the process of developing a healthcare system that is more sensitive to cultural difference. Furthermore, looking at other cultural modes of healing like ruqya can teach us something about what healing is and how it takes place. This needs to be taken seriously if we want to understand how Muslim minorities are handling life crisis health problems on a local level. Taking patient perspectives into account with open approaches might have great benefits in terms of improved health in the migrant population.

148

A. G. NIELSEN

Ethnographic field studies can also have strength in their implicit network facilitation and possibility in building trust relations locally. By drawing on networks stretching from the academic to the clinical world to that of ruqya patients and religious healers, anthropologists could serve as facilitators of fruitful cooperation across disciplines as well as connecting ethnic, religious, and social spheres that would otherwise remain largely separate. The fact that young religious healers are increasingly drawing on biomedical understandings of illness, reaching out toward cooperation, and opening up for developments suggests fruitful ground for new cross-sectoral cooperation in which we as professionals leave questions of right and wrong behind in mutual efforts to help and support Muslim patients in difficult life situations. Acknowledgements I would like to thank Liz Harris for checking the Urdu transcription in this chapter.

Notes 1. British of Pakistani descent refer in English to black magic, to k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u in Urdu, and to sih.r in Arabic. According to the Quran, black magic was brought to the earth by the angels Har¯ut and Mar¯ ut as a temptation and a test (2:102). It is considered illicit, and anyone practicing black magic is believed to have left Islam. In a South Asian context, there is a tendency to believe that k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u affliction stems from jealous and hateful relatives. Suspicions and accusations of j¯ ad¯ u are often enmeshed in family conflicts (Rytter 2013), sometimes resulting in ruptures and disconnections in kinship relations. Accusing someone of performing j¯ ad¯ u or of paying a magician (j¯ ad¯ ugar) is a serious allegation, because it implies that the accused has left Islam out of the desire to control relatives through illicit magical means. Jin possession is also believed to sometimes occur because a magician has sent the jin to cause havoc and divisions in Muslim families. Black magic and jin can be interrelated, but are not necessarily connected. On the patient level, we encounter cases involving only one or the other as well as both. 2. A form of blood cupping mentioned in the sunna and believed to draw out bad blood and work against black magic. Like ruqya, it has been highly popularized among Muslim minorities in recent years and can be found all over social media like YouTube and Instagram. 3. This is the anglicized version commonly used in the UK.

7

HEALING, AGENCY, AND LIFE CRISIS AMONG BRITISH …

149

Bibliography Asad, Talal. “Agency and Pain: An Exploration.” Culture and Religion 1, no. 1 (2000): 29–60. Brown, Daniel W. “Islamic Modernism in South Asia: A Reassessment.” The Muslim World 87, no. 3–4 (1997): 258–271. Csordas, Thomas J. The Sacred Self: A Cultural Phenomenology of Charismatic Healing. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1994. Cordas, Thomas J. Body Meaning Healing. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. Dein, Simon, and Abdool Samad Illaiee. “Jinn and Mental Health: Looking at Jinn Possession in Modern Psychiatric Practice.” The Psychiatrist 37, no. 9 (2013): 290–293. Dein, Simon, Malcolm Alexander, and David A. Napier. “Jinn, Psychiatry and Contested Notions of Misfortune Among East London Bangladeshis.” Transcultural Psychiatry 45, no. 31 (2008): 31–55. Desjarlais, Robert R. “‘The Sacred Self: A Cultural Phenomenology of Charismatic Healing,’ by Thomas J. Csordas.” American Anthropologist 97, no. 1 (1995): 171. Dieste, Josep L. M. “Spirits Are Like Microbes: Islamic Revival and the Definition of Morality in Moroccan Exorcism.” Contemporary Islam 9, no. 1 (2014): 45–63. Dube, Pankhuree R. “Partition Historiography.” Historian 77, no. 1 (2015): 55–79. Gilliat-Ray, Sophie. “Educating the Ulama: Centres of Islamic Religious Training in Britain.” Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations 17, no. 1 (2006): 55–76. Jones, Stephen. “New Labour and the Re-making of British Islam: The Case of the Radical Middle Way and the ‘Reclamation’ of the Classical Islamic Tradition.” Religions 4, no. 4 (2013): 550–566. Lindquist, Galina. Conjuring Hope: Magic and Healing in Contemporary Russia. New York: Berghahn Books, 2006. McLoughlin, Seán. “Mosques and the Public Space Conflict and Cooperation in Bradford.” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 31, no. 6 (2006): 1045–1066. Roy, Olivier. Secularism Confronts Islam. New York. Columbia University Press, 2009. Rytter, Mikkel. “Between Preferences: Marriage and Mobility Among Danish Pakistani Youth.” Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 18, no. 3 (2012): 572–90. Rytter, Mikkel. Family Upheaval: Generation, Mobility and Relatedness Among Pakistani Migrants in Denmark. New York and Oxford: Berghahn, 2013. Rytter, Mikkel. “In-Laws and Outlaws: Black Magic Among Pakistani Migrants in Denmark.” Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 16, no. 1 (2010): 46–63.

150

A. G. NIELSEN

Shaw, Alison. “Drivers of Cousin Marriage among British Pakistanis.” Human Heredity 77, no. 1–4 (2014): 26–36. Strathern, Marilyn. “Cutting the Network.” The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 2, no. 3 (1996): 517–535. Strathern, Marilyn. Kinship, Law and the Unexpected. Cambridge: University Press, 2005. Suhr, Christian. Descending with Angels: The Invisible in Danish Psychiatry and Islamic Exorcism. PhD thesis. Department of Culture and Society, Aarhus University, 2013. Webster, Colin. “Race, Space and Fear: Imagined Geographies of Racism, Crime, Violence and Disorder in Northern England.” Capital and Class 80 (2003): 95–102. Werbner, Pnina. “Theorising Complex Diasporas: Purity and Hybridity in the South Asian Public Sphere in Britain.” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 30, no. 5 (2004): 895–911.

CHAPTER 8

Contextualising Female Jinn Possession in Sexual Trauma Birte Spreckelsen

Introduction In Egypt, a woman who does not comply with society’s expectations is likely to be accused of being “complicated”, “knotted” or “difficult” (mu aqqada) as well as “crazy”, “mad” or “possessed by jinn” (majn¯ una), all traits of irrationality. Jinn possession in Egypt seems to be gendered, affecting predominantly women (El-Kholy 2004, 26). While existing scholarship on this vast topic remains fragmented, Janice Boddy, Heba El-Kholy, Cynthia Nelson, Gerda Sengers, and Sabine Strasser gathered invaluable anthropological insights into female jinn possession through their fieldwork in the Islamic world.1 They describe possession as a possibility for women to express the burden of their gender-specific roles subordinated to men. Z¯ ar ceremonies, offered to jinn-possessed women, are particularly interesting in this regard.2

B. Spreckelsen (B) Institute for Islamic Studies, Freie Universität Berlin, Berlin, Germany © The Author(s) 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4_8

151

152

B. SPRECKELSEN

In her pioneering study, Sabine Strasser conducted research on female jinn possession in Turkish migrant families in Austria and rural parts of Turkey. She views possession as a translocal strategy for addressing and modifying otherwise unmentionable social problems “by means of third beings” rather than medical intervention (Strasser 2001, 216– ar ceremonies in Cairo, “[T]he 217).3 Cynthia Nelson wrote about z¯ [possessed] woman can express herself in ways that are not open to her in the larger social structure” (Nelson 2007, 30). Heba El-Kholy also conducted research in Cairo’s lower-class neighbourhoods, where she recorded women’s personal accounts of jinn possession. She describes these narratives as “a culturally legitimate and ‘honorable’ way for women to communicate ‘immodest sentiments’” (El-Kholy 2004, 29). Such accounts are also attested for other Middle Eastern countries. In the following, I will focus on female jinn possession in Egypt, based on excerpts from El-Kholy’s case studies.

Public Perception of Female Jinn Possession in Egypt Despite some scepticism, men, especially those from the lower classes, tend to accept the concept of jinn (Nelson 2007, 31; El-Kholy 2004, 28). The fact that jinn are mentioned in the Quran gives accounts of possession a certain validity. Some Egyptian women have even used jinn as a legitimation to leave an unhappy marriage: in 1985, the Egyptian newspaper al-Ahram reported about a woman who requested a divorce in a Cairo court, arguing that her husband had entered into a second marriage with a female jinn, a jinniyya. Due to a short-lived reform in 1979 of the Egyptian personal status law, which was cancelled only six years after its introduction (Sonneveld 2019, 156), women temporarily enjoyed the right to get divorced, if their husbands remarried without their knowledge or prior permission. The woman mentioned in the article succeeded in her petition after the court deduced the existence of jinn from the Quran and thus granted her divorce (Edge 1989, 683). Despite this rare case, many Egyptians dismiss the concept of jinn possession as a form of superstition, the Quranic references to jinn notwithstanding. This attitude can intimidate the afflicted women and prevent them from talking about their condition: “The increasing revival of ‘Islamic’ discourse in Egypt on the

8

CONTEXTUALISING FEMALE JINN POSSESSION IN SEXUAL TRAUMA

153

one hand, and the dismissal and ridicule of spirit possession by government officials, the media, and professionals on the other, makes women’s public admission of possession to outsiders rare” (El-Kholy 2004, 26). Egyptian biomedically trained health professionals often openly display a negative attitude towards belief in jinn, which is attributed predominantly to women (El-Kholy 2004, 27). Hoda El-Saadi shows how nineteenth-century Egyptian physicians readily manifested misogynistic views. Influenced by Western psychiatry, doctors reproduced the biologically determinist belief that women possessed an inherent mental and physical weakness, leading these doctors to conclude that there was a natural hierarchical binary between the sexes in which men hold the superior and women the inferior position. This patriarchal, modern, scientific discourse not only served as a legitimation for male dominance over women, it also denigrated traditional Egyptian concepts of mental illness and corresponding female healing practices (El-Saadi 2005, 297–300). The female-specific diagnosis of hysteria, a product of this maledominated field of psychiatry, allowed health professionals to pathologise deviant female behaviour and locate its causes in an inherent female inferiority in order to control and disfranchise women. In contrast to this, although a number of scholars attribute jinn possession mainly to women, in Islamic literature its causes are located in a general human—not an inherently female—weakness and susceptibility to jinn affliction of all sorts (Ussher 1991, 170; Russell 1995, 12–13; Nelson 2007, 29–30). Insights on jinn Through a Feminist Lens In her chapter A Discourse of Resistance: Spirit Possession among Women in Low-Income Cairo, Heba El-Kholy discusses the findings of her research, for which she conducted interviews with women possessed by jinn in several parts of Cairo from 1995 till 1996 (El-Kholy 2002, 7). She argues that their possession is an expression of their daily negotiations and a way to build awareness of gender roles. This strategy serves as a tool for passive protests and subtle resistance (El-Kholy 2004, 22). Nevertheless, El-Kholy adds a note of caution against over-emphasising and romanticising this type of agency (El-Kholy 2004, 36). In contrast to this focus on the individual’s agency of everyday resistance, I will discuss two excerpts from Heba El-Kholy’s case studies from an explicitly feminist perspective, critical of women’s structural oppression in patriarchy. Feminist theory derives from and focusses on women’s

154

B. SPRECKELSEN

situated experiences, highlighting the personal as being inherently political and therefore a fruitful approach to the understanding of female jinn possession. I emphasise the need to locate the accounts from ElKholy’s case studies in their broader social context and argue that jinn possession serves the two women as a culturally legitimate—yet socially stigmatised—narrative for interpreting the effects of trauma. Marriage, Female Madness and Psychiatry At the heart of feminist theory lies the critique of female-specific, biologically determinist attributions, psychiatric diagnoses and claims made under the male pretence of scientific objectivity and expert authority. Feminist researchers from a range of disciplines have examined premodern theological and modern biomedical discourses that placed the “deviant”, female sex “as ‘witch’ and ‘outsider’” in a close relationship to the devil, madness, irrationality and emotionality—thus considering women a threat to the social order (Shaw and Proctor 2005, 484). By contrast, the masculine ideal, implicitly representing the norm within this dualistic system, has come to stand for reason and mental health (Chesler 1972, 69). In a present shaped by this tradition of gendered dualisms, women face the choice between adopting “healthy” patterns of behaviour and thinking or conforming to the feminine gender role—a seemingly insoluble dilemma, because the scope of socially sanctioned options is limited (Chesler 1972, 68–69). Both women who challenge their socially ascribed gender role by not complying with the dominant ideal (and thus adopting behaviour that may be regarded as masculine) and women who do submit to (and most likely suffer from) the feminine image of passivity are unable to withdraw from the social judgement of their constitution because “[w]omen are seen as ‘sick’ when they act out the female role (are depressed, incompetent, frigid, and anxious) and when they reject the female role (are hostile, successful, sexually active, and especially with other women)” (Chesler 1972, 118). Psychiatrists function as guardians of this moral order—they “are needed by the patriarchal culture to keep women within their narrow role boundaries” (Russel 1995, 12). This critique of psychiatry goes hand in hand with the feminist critique of traditional patriarchal marriage, which feminists regard as a means of maintaining male domination over women. As central in constituting gender roles, the institution of marriage contributes decisively to female suffering because “the particular role

8

CONTEXTUALISING FEMALE JINN POSSESSION IN SEXUAL TRAUMA

155

which women adopt in traditional marriage, a passive, subservient role – the classic mirror of man – is that which is detrimental to women’s health” (Ussher 1991, 260). Due to its marginality as a private matter, this form of marriage with the purpose of clarifying the status of male ownership of women and particularly women’s reproductivity involves the inherent risk and taboo of violence at the hands of the husband and leaves little room for a wife to defend herself and her well-being, given women’s economic and social dependence on men (Ussher 1991, 264–265). Furthermore, contemporary classifications, though widely accepted in psychiatry, are subject to feminist critique. One central point of criticism is, for instance, that the vague diagnoses predominantly issued for women (e.g. depression, borderline personality disorder, premenstrual syndrome, inhibited sexual desire, and impaired sexual arousal)4 are used to describe and pathologise reactions to female oppression in a patriarchal society. From a feminist perspective, the allegedly rational medicalisation of women’s distress produces female-specific clinical pictures that obscure and individualise the causes of suffering by locating them within the women concerned. Social and political factors such as male violence, misogyny and discrimination, which shape women’s realities and give rise to their misery, are not considered in these diagnoses (Shaw and Proctor 2005, 488). Such depoliticised diagnoses signal to the women concerned that they need to undergo treatment in order to adapt to patriarchal standards, reproduced and normalised by male-centred science and its modern worldview that deceptively divorces the biological from the social, because “biomedical and psychological theories of depression decontextualize what is often a social problem, simply acting to legitimize expert intervention, whilst negating the political, economic and discursive aspects of women’s experience” (Ussher 2010, 15). This is particularly detrimental to women’s position in society because psychiatry interprets female anger as an individual problem and a pathological condition. Thus it not only denies society’s responsibility for creating adverse conditions for women, but also deprives women of the awareness and vocabulary needed to address and challenge the factors leading to their distress and thus of the potential to mobilise collectively: “Labelling us mad silences our voices. We can be ignored. The rantings of a mad woman are irrelevant. Her anger is impotent” (Ussher 1991, 7). Hence, it is important to recognise this patriarchal bias and to turn towards women’s perceptions and experiences in relation to their context.

156

B. SPRECKELSEN

Personal Accounts of Possession—A Matter of Interpretation I chose the following excerpts from Heba El-Kholy’s case studies in order to reinterpret them from a feminist point of view. Umm Yusif recounts her experience as follows: I have not been sleeping in the same bed with my husband for the past ten years and we have not had sex for that long. There is nothing I can do about it. The spirits do not allow me. When he comes near me I start kicking and screaming. One day I bit him so hard he bled. At first my husband used to get angry and hit me, but now he understands that it is not up to me. The masters do not want it. I know it is forbidden to deny my husband sex, and I have been to many doctors and I even made a zar every year for the past three years, but the spirits still do not allow me; it is out of my control. I personally do not mind it however. I never enjoyed sex with him. It was always a duty. Sometimes he also hurts me. (El-Kholy 2004, 34)

Amal, also known as Umm Ayman, tells her story in the voice of her jinn¯ı Abdallah, who insults her husband: He is a stupid ox and I despise him. He is trying to sleep with me and is asking me to do dirty things. I love Amal […] and do not want her to sleep with him, so every time he tries to sleep with her, I get in the middle of the bed and separate them and kick him. So one day, he said, “Fine. If Amal does not want to sleep with me, then you sleep with me.” I am a man like him, but he is not ashamed to ask me to do these things. He is a very bad man. (El-Kholy 2004, 34)

Heba El-Kholy describes these statements as “opaque” and a matter of individual interpretation. Yet, she concludes, “[W]omen do not enjoy sex with their husbands, their husbands do not satisfy them sexually” (El-Kholy 2004, 34). El-Kholy reads the women’s accounts in relation to sexual pleasure, as if they were complaints about bad sex. While the possessed women express their unwillingness to have sex with their husbands, the researcher concludes “a consistent lack of sexual desire or sexual interest” (El-Kholy 2004, 34). Seemingly indicating a sexual deficit on the women’s part, she interprets the women’s statements from a male-centred perspective, in relation to a male norm: El-Kholy locates the women’s problems within themselves, in their insufficient desire, thus ignoring the social and political context of the issue. But, as Ussher

8

CONTEXTUALISING FEMALE JINN POSSESSION IN SEXUAL TRAUMA

157

reminds us, from a feminist perspective, “[I]t is not enough to posit a physical (or psychological) cause for a sexual difficulty and then treat it out of context of any other facet of a woman’s experience” (Ussher 1993, 26). It is astonishing that El-Kholy misses the opportunity to go deeper. Female Possession in Context Several psychologists and psycho-anthropologists voice a general concern about anthropological studies of jinn possession, perfectly in line with the feminist approach to understanding women’s illness not in isolation, but in relation to its context and possible causes (Seligman and Kirmayer 2008, 44). According to this criticism, anthropologists place too narrow a focus on the social construction and meaning of narratives on possession while neglecting to consider how living conditions and past experiences may affect an afflicted person’s psyche and be the breeding ground for possession as an involuntary mechanism rather than a deliberate, feigned act (Ward 1980, 149–150). This criticism also applies to El-Kholy’s findings. In order to understand the wider political and social setting of the women’s statements, I will analyse the patriarchal context in Egypt, taking into account that the implications of this exercise are relevant beyond this particular scope: marital rape is not criminalised in Egypt (United Kingdom, Home Office 2017) and a wife’s obedience is her husband’s prerogative.5 Egypt’s economic liberalisation negatively impacted women’s employment rates and went hand in hand with the promotion of women’s role as economically dependent housewives (Hatem 1992, 231–251, 233–240). Unmarried women face stigmatisation in large parts of society. At the time of the interviews with the women possessed by jinn, a large number of Egyptian females between the ages of 15 and 49 had been genitally mutilated. This illustrates the invasive extent of regulation and the contradictory requirements that Egyptian society directs at women and their sexuality; women are expected to remain chaste until marriage, display modesty and concern about their reputation, and then lead sexually active and fulfilled lives with their husbands.6 Moreover, women have only very limited options to end their marriage. A non-consensual divorce (hul‘ ), initiated by the wife and without the necessity of proving specific,˘ unfavourable circumstances subject to further legal examination, became possible only after an amendment that went into effect in January 2000, years after El-Kholy spoke

158

B. SPRECKELSEN

to the possessed women (Sonneveld 2019, 149–178; 150; 156). Against this background, I construe the possessed women’s statements as personal accounts about sexual violence within marriage. Neither of them wants to have sex with her husband, and both report male violence. They are aware of what is socially expected of women: Umm Yusif knows that she is obliged to have sex with her husband; Umm Ayman is appalled by the sexual practices (anal sex?) that her husband demands of her. She can only express the act through the metaphor of homosexuality between her male jinn¯ı and her husband. It is not a lack of female sexual desire that emerges from the statements, but a blatant lack of male empathy and societal consideration for women’s bodily integrity and self-determination. Naming the Subconscious Many scholars agree that jinn possession offers women an opportunity to implicitly draw attention to societal taboos. What is perceived as moral trespassing, committed under the influence of jinn, tends not to entail negative repercussions for possessed women. Instead, blame is commonly placed on the jinn (Nelson 2007, 30; El-Kholy 2004, 29; Strasser 1995, 224). On a rhetorical level, the narrative of jinn possession offers women a vocabulary facilitating them to speak about their problems and to justify transgressive behaviour allegedly caused by the interference of jinn. But what does possession represent beyond this rhetoric? Both women had experiences with jinn. What does this mean in a setting of domestic violence? The women describe situations in which jinn take control over them. This narrative allows them to talk about the sexual assaults by their husbands. The women find themselves in an existential conflict between contradicting imperatives; this prevents them from protecting their personal interests: defending their own bodily integrity violates the social norm that dictates a wife’s obedience towards her husband as a “conjugal duty”. Considering the loss of control resulting from this imminent threat of violence that the two women face on a regular basis in the confines of their marriage, jinn possession seems to be the result of repeated traumatisation, rather than a conscious strategy of resistance.7 Hence, jinn may be an expression of what psychology knows as traumatic dissociation, a protective mechanism that causes a person’s consciousness, perception and sensation to disconnect from traumatising events, such as sexual violence (Russell 1995, 46). When speaking about

8

CONTEXTUALISING FEMALE JINN POSSESSION IN SEXUAL TRAUMA

159

their past rapes, some women recall having left their bodies and witnessing the violation from outside (Lukas 2003, 146). Repeated traumatisation can result in a dissociative identity disorder (previously known as multiple personality disorder), that is, the emergence of multiple personalities or the splitting of a person’s identity. The different states can develop into permanent (semi-)autonomous personalities, each with its own perception, in some cases exhibiting exaggerated gendered stereotypes, such as the role of the victim or the protector (Huber 2003, 65; Rode 2009, 20). Moreover, women who are raped by their husbands commonly struggle with their perception of the event because “one aspect of being dominated is that the person who is in the subordinate position often perceives experiences from the perspective of the dominant person” (Russell 1990, 53). These descriptions of women’s reactions to rape resemble the two women’s accounts of jinn possession.

Conclusion Women describe their reactions to sexual violence in different ways, resorting to the narratives of their cultural contexts. While the psychiatric diagnosis of the dissociative identity disorder is a possible interpretation, the two women translate their experiences into the vocabulary of jinn possession. In contrast to the woman in the al-Ahram article, mentioned above, who filed for divorce due to her husband’s secret marriage to a jinniyya, the women who talked to El-Kholy about their jinn possession did not employ this narrative in a conscious manner. Hence, jinn possession here is not merely a strategic legitimation for inappropriate behaviour. Rather, the possessed women interpret their subconscious reactions to sexual violence within a patriarchal setting of marriage and widespread female genital mutilation. In the context examined here, jinn serve as an expression of female distress resulting from the trauma of male violence and patriarchal control over women’s bodies and selves. However, this pain has no place in society’s self-image and is silenced. The distress remains marginalised until it breaks out of the women’s subconsciousness in another shape, transformed into dissociated beings demanding attention by seemingly disturbing the patriarchal marital order. Feminist researchers have cautioned against viewing female-specific diseases without considering the context. In the same vein, I recognise the danger of viewing jinn possession without its context. In patriarchal

160

B. SPRECKELSEN

settings, society promotes this decontextualised interpretation of female “deviance” and dictates how women should articulate their own conditions. Instead of questioning familial, social or political discriminatory factors in order to identify the source of their distress, women explain their conditions subconsciously, adopting the embodied narratives that are tolerated and prevalent in their (class-specific) cultural contexts—even if this might be to their own disadvantage. The aforementioned accounts of jinn possession are such “safe”, yet stigmatising narratives.

Notes 1. Aihwa Ong, while not explicitly using the term ‘jinn’, wrote about female workers’ spirit possession and the corporate medical management of these interruptive instances of resistance to exploitative and abusive working conditions in multinational factories in Malaysia (1988, 28–42). 2. Z¯ ar ceremonies are sometimes held to pacify jinn, whereas exorcism is not a common practice. 3. Unless otherwise indicated, translations are mine. 4. “ Following in the path of the experts of the past, the woman is blamed for the problem of sex” (Ussher 1993, 17). 5. Islamic legal thought does not encompass the concept of marital rape because the wife’s sexual availability is her duty towards the husband (Fluehr-Lobban and Bardsley-Sirois 1990, 39–53, 40–41). 6. To this day, female genital mutilation remains prevalent (El-Zanaty et al. 2015, 104; UNICEF 2005, 32). 7. Judith L. Herman describes trauma as follows: “The conflict between the will to deny horrible events and the will to proclaim them aloud is the central dialectic of psychological trauma.” While definitions vary, this understanding of trauma is relevant to the cases of jinn possession central to this paper (1992, 1).

Bibliography Chesler, Phyllis. Women and Madness. New York: Doubleday, 1972. Edge, Ian. “Egyptian Family Law: The Tale of the Jinn.” The International and Comparative Law Quarterly 38, no. 3 (1989): 682–685. El-Kholy, Heba. Defiance and Compliance: Negotiating Gender in Low-Income Cairo. Oxford: Berghahn Books, 2002. El-Kholy, Heba. “A Discourse of Resistance: Spirit Possession Among Women in Low-Income Cairo.” In Health and Identity in Egypt, edited by Hania

8

CONTEXTUALISING FEMALE JINN POSSESSION IN SEXUAL TRAUMA

161

Sholkamy and Farha Ghannam, 21–41. Cairo: American University in Cairo Press, 2004. El-Saadi, Hoda. “Changing Attitudes Towards Women’s Madness in NineteenthCentury Egypt.” Hawwa 3, no. 3 (2005): 293–308. El-Zanaty and Associates, Ministry of Health and Population Egypt and ICF International. Egypt Demographic and Health Survey 2015. Cairo: Ministry of Health and Population Egypt and ICF International, 2015. https://dhspro gram.com/pubs/pdf/FR313/FR313.pdf. Accessed July 10, 2019. Fluehr-Lobban, Carolyn, and Lois Bardsley-Sirois. “Obedience (Ta‘a) in Muslim Marriage: Religious Interpretation and Applied Law in Egypt.” Journal of Comparative Family Studies 21, no. 1 (1990): 39–53. Hatem, Mervat F. “Economic and Political Liberation in Egypt and the Demise of State Feminism.” International Journal of Middle East Studies 24, no. 2 (1992): 231–251. Herman, Judith L. Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence—From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror. New York: Basic Books, 1992. Huber, Michaela. Trauma und die Folgen. Paderborn: Junfermann Verlag, 2003. Lukas, Berit. Das Gefühl, ein No-Body zu sein: Depersonalisation, Dissoziation und Trauma. Paderborn: Junfermann Verlag, 2003. Nelson, Cynthia. “Self, Spirit Possession and World View: An Illustration From Egypt.” In Pioneering Feminist Anthropology in Egypt: Selected Writings from Cynthia Nelson, edited by Martina Rieker, 17–35. Cairo: American University in Cairo Press, 2007. Ong, Aihwa. “The Production of Possession: Spirits and the Multinational Corporation in Malaysia.” American Ethnologist 15, no. 1 (1988): 28–42. Rode, Tanja. “Dissoziation und Geschlecht: Eine Überlebensstrategie nach sexuellen Gewalterfahrungen im Geschlechterkontext.” In Bube, Dame, König – DIS: Dissoziation als Überlebensstrategie im Geschlechterkontext, edited by Tanja Rode, 18–23. Cologne: Mebes & Noack, 2009. Russell, Denise. Women, Madness and Medicine. Oxford: Polity, 1995. Russell, Diana E. H. Rape in Marriage. Exp. and rev. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1990. Seligman, Rebecca, and Laurence J. Kirmayer. “Dissociative Experience and Cultural Neuroscience: Narrative, Metaphor and Mechanism.” Culture, Medicine and Psychiatry 32, no. 1 (2008): 31–64. Shaw, Clare, and Gillian Proctor. “Women at the Margins: A Critique of the Diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder.” Feminism & Psychology 15, no. 4 (2005): 483–490. Sonneveld, Nadia. “Divorce Reform in Egypt and Morocco: Men and Women Navigating Rights and Duties.” Islamic Law and Society 26, no. 1–2 (2019): 149–178.

162

B. SPRECKELSEN

Strasser, Sabine. Die Unreinheit ist fruchtbar: Grenzüberschreitungen in einem türkischen Dorf am Schwarzen Meer. Vienna: Wiener Frauenverlag, 1995. Strasser, Sabine. “Krise oder Kritik? Zur Ambiguität von weiblicher Besessenheit als translokale Strategie.” In Körper, Religion und Macht: Sozialanthropologie der Geschlechterbeziehungen, edited by Ulrike Davis-Sulikovski et al. 199–219. Frankfurt: Campus-Verlag, 2001. UNICEF. Female Genital Mutilation/Cutting: A Statistical Exploration 2005. New York: UNICEF, 2005. https://www.unicef.org/publications/files/ FGM-C_final_10_October.pdf. Accessed July 10, 2019. United Kingdom, Home Office. Country Policy and Information Note—Egypt: Women. Version 1.0, London: Home Office, 2017. http://www.refworld. org/docid/58c000444.html. Accessed September 13, 2018. Ussher, Jane. Women’s Madness: Misogyny or Mental Illness? Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1991. Ussher, Jane. “The Construction of Female Sexual Problems.” In Psychological Perspectives on Sexual Problems: New Directions in Theory and Practice, edited by Jane M. Ussher and Christine D. Baker, 9–40. London: Routledge, 1993. Ussher, Jane. “Are We Medicalizing Women’s Misery? A Critical Review of Women’s Higher Rates of Reported Depression.” Feminism & Psychology 20, no. 1 (2010): 9–35. Ward, Colleen. “Spirit Possession and Mental Health: A Psycho-Anthropological Perspective.” Human Relations 33, no. 3 (1980): 149–163.

CHAPTER 9

Jinn and Mental Suffering by Migrants in Europe: A Review of Literature Sophie Bärtlein and Nina Nissen

Introduction The Islamic figure “jinn” is a central element in Islam, and many Muslims draw on it to explain the causes and manifestations of mental illness.

This chapter is based on a presentation by Sophie Bärtlein during the workshop “Health, Jinn and the Muslim Body: Theoretical and Practical Reflections”, University of Southern Denmark, Odense, Denmark, 17 May 2018. The authors are listed alphabetically, with the following contributions: the introduction, method and analytical sections were written jointly by the authors; Nina Nissen wrote the discussion. S. Bärtlein (B) Institute for Islamic Studies, Freie Universität Berlin, Berlin, Germany e-mail: [email protected] N. Nissen REHPA—Danish Knowledge Centre for Rehabilitation and Palliative Care, Region of Southern Denmark and University of Southern Denmark, Odense, Denmark e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4_9

163

164

S. BÄRTLEIN AND N. NISSEN

Belief in jinn is shared not only among Muslims living in predominantly Muslim societies, but also among those living in Western countries (Dieste and Beagles 2013, 234–235). The idea of jinn living and being active in Western countries raises a number of questions, such as: How do Muslims who migrated to Western countries perceive the influence of jinn? What views do they hold about supernatural phenomena as causes of illnesses, including mental health issues? How do Muslim migrants experience biomedical treatment and services? And what kind of treatment do Muslim migrants wish for? This chapter reviews existing social science literature that examines the phenomenon of jinn related to mental illness, as perceived by Muslims migrants living in Western countries, and aims to provide an overview of the perspectives of Muslim migrants on the relationship between jinn and mental health. In so doing, this paper contributes to developing a more nuanced understanding of and approach to mental health issues experienced by Muslim migrants living in Western countries.

Jinn in Islamic Tradition Jinn are fundamental actors in Arabic folklore and popular literature, as well as in Islamic theology. Muslims acknowledge their existence, but their opinions about the nature and powers of jinn and their relationships with humans vary widely, depending on the opinions of Islamic scholars and on different interpretations of jinn in Islamic tradition and theology.1 Jinn are described as supernatural beings who possess powers for good and evil, whereby the responsibility for the use of these powers lies with the jinn themselves. According to the Quran, jinn are regarded as invisible beings made out of smokeless fire. They nevertheless have characteristics similar to those of humans; they eat, drink, and marry not only jinn but—in extreme cases—also humans (MacDonald et al. 2012; Chabbi 2018). Although the powers of jinn are not generally regarded as demonic, a fear of their negative impacts on one’s life is central to many Muslims’ understanding of jinn. According to Chabbi, many Muslims are constantly aware of being at a jinn¯ı’s mercy at all times. While in the Quran jinn are mainly described as members of a collective (Chabbi), they appear as individual protagonists in most of the articles reviewed here.2 Jinn are said to strike the “imprudent and insolent” and to punish them with illnesses, including various kinds of mental illness, but also by influencing their social and private life (MacDonald et al. 2012). Jinn are

9

JINN AND MENTAL SUFFERING BY MIGRANTS IN EUROPE …

165

further said to “haunt the spaces to which people do not belong, but through which they are nevertheless constrained to pass whenever going from place to place” (MacDonald et al. 2012). Scattered in liminal places, there is a risk for human beings to encounter them at any time.

Methods We searched for social science studies of mental health issues, belief in jinn and experiences with biomedical and non-biomedical care among Muslim migrants living in Western countries. Using the search terms Muslim migrants, jinn and mental health, our main research was conducted through Primo, the library portal of the Freie Universität Berlin, which includes the databases PubMed, Web of Science and ProQuest. In addition, we searched JSTOR using the aforementioned search terms. The following inclusion criteria were used: peer-reviewed articles published in English and German; qualitative and quantitative research designs; and participants were Muslim migrants living in Western societies. Exclusion criteria were: no abstract; abstract not in English or German; articles focussing on countries with a predominantly Muslim population and articles focussing on the mental suffering of Muslim migrants in Western countries without addressing the aspect of jinn or similar phenomena; articles reporting on psychological studies based on questionnaire instrument or model designs. Using the search string Muslim migrants AND jinn AND mental health, the Primo search yielded 179 hits, including 103 PhD theses, 66 peer-reviewed journal articles based on empirical studies, five reference entries, two literature reviews, two books, and one book chapter. The JSTOR search yielded 27 results, including 26 peer-reviewed journal articles and one book. After removing duplicates (n = 7) and excluded publications (n = 30), nine articles (empirical studies n = 7, literature reviews n = 2) met our inclusion criteria (for details, see Diagram 9.1). These articles are discussed here. The authors of the included articles worked in various Muslim migrant communities with participants differing by gender, age and residential status, as well as country of origin and religious affiliation (for details, see Table 9.1). This left us with diverse studies with a range of terminologies, partly reflecting the authors’ disciplinary backgrounds. For example, some

166

S. BÄRTLEIN AND N. NISSEN

Diagram 9.1 Literature search flow chart

Primo

JSTOR

(179 hits)

(27 hits)

Meeting inclusion criteria (38)

Meeting inclusion criteria (8)

Duplicates removed (7)

Further exclusion, on reading full articles (30)

Total (9)

Empirical studies (7) Literature reviews (2)

9

JINN AND MENTAL SUFFERING BY MIGRANTS IN EUROPE …

167

Table 9.1 Included literature Author/date Study design

Location of study

Dein et al. (2008)

Anthropological UK (East fieldwork London)

Fazel et al. (2005)

Literature review (20 psychiatric surveys)

Gerritsen et al. (2006)

Populationbased cross-sectional study

Hoffer (1992)

Interview study

Focus regions of the reviewed studies: Australia; Canada; Italy; New Zealand; Norway; UK; USA Netherlands

Netherlands

Participants

Migrant participants’ country of origin

Professional participants’ background

n = 40 Female n = 18 Male n = 22 Mean age: 42 Studies n = 20 Based on interviews with adult refugees (n = 6743)

Bangladesh

n/a

Asia Former Yugoslavia Middle East Central America

n/a

Afghanistan (majority) Iran Somalia

n/a

Islamic healers n = 9 Morocco n = 2 Turkey n = 3 Surinam n = 3 Guyana n = 1 Clients = particularly from Morocco and Turkey

Islamic healers, informants from Muslim organizations. Representatives from public health and social services

Interviewees n = 410 Refugees n = 178 Female n = 79 Male n = 99 Mean age: 40.3 Asylum seekers n = 232 Female n = 90 Male n = 142 Mean age: 34.4 n = 29 Healers n = 9 Clients n = 20

(continued)

168

S. BÄRTLEIN AND N. NISSEN

Table 9.1 (continued) Author/date Study design

Location of study

Participants

Migrant participants’ country of origin

Professional participants’ background

Islam et al. Focus group (2015) study

UK (Birmingham)

Pakistan (Majority) Caribbean

Spiritual care representatives, early intervention professionals (nurses, service managers, care coordinator) Social workers Commissioners of U.K. health and social care organizations Voluntary and community organization representatives

Johnsdotter Interview study et al. (2011)

Sweden

Interviewees n = 66 Early Intervention (EI) service users n = 22 Carers n = 11 Community and voluntary sector organizations n = 6; Service commissioners n = 10 EI professionals n = 9 Spiritual care representatives n = 8 n = 23 Female n = 17 Male n = 6 Aged 40–55 years n = 128 Female n = 75 Male n = 53 Aged 50–80 years

Somalia

n/a

Somalia

n/a

Kuittinen et al. (2017)

Cross-sectional study

Finland

(continued)

9

JINN AND MENTAL SUFFERING BY MIGRANTS IN EUROPE …

169

Table 9.1 (continued) Author/date Study design

Location of study

Participants

Leavey et al. (2007)

Interview study

UK (London) n = 32 Male n = 32 Aged 37–68 years

Lim et al. (2014)

Literature review (47 case reports)

n/a

Female n = 23 Male n = 24 Female mean age: 32.4 Male mean age: 30.5

Migrant participants’ country of origin

Professional participants’ background

n/a Christian Clergy: English; African; AfricanCaribbean; South Asian. Imams: Bangladesh, n = 4 India, Turkey, Kenya. Rabbis: English-born, n = 5 South Africa, n = 1 Predominantly n/a Islamic countries

studies included Muslim refugees from Somalia living in Finland (Kuittinen et al. 2017, 211–238), Somali immigrants in Sweden (Johnsdotter et al. 2011), people from Bangladesh living in the UK3 and Muslims of various national backgrounds living in the Netherlands (Hoffer 1992, 40–53). In reporting the findings from the included studies, we adopt the terminology used by the studies’ authors to describe participants as “migrant”, “immigrant”, “refugee” or “asylum seeker”, “Muslim” or “service user”. However, the authors are not always consistent in the use of their terms; for instance, “Swedish Somalis” are also referred to as “Somali immigrants” (Johnsdotter et al. 2011, 741). Furthermore, not all the articles refer to the status of participants’ residence. Dein et al. use the term “East London Bangladeshis” (Dein et al. 2008), whereby Islam et al. refer to their participants as “Black and minority ethnic (BME) service users”, which includes Pakistani participants (see Table 9.1).4 When reporting more generally, we use the term “migrant”.

170

S. BÄRTLEIN AND N. NISSEN

The International Organisation for Migration defines a migrant as “any person who is moving or has moved across an international border or within a State away from his/her habitual place of residence, regardless of (1) the person’s legal status; (2) whether the movement is voluntary or involuntary; (3) what the causes for the movement are; or (4) what the length of the stay is” (IOM).5 In this article, we focus on migration across international borders. Lastly, some of the included studies focus specifically on participants affected by mental illness, whereas cultural or religious background was the only inclusion criteria for participation in others. Moreover, the numbers of participants in the different studies range from 20 (Johnsdotter et al. 2011) to more than 120 people (Kuittinen et al. 2017, 211). The nine articles included in this review were thoroughly read and reread and analysed thematically, based on emerging categories, themes and sub-themes (Miles and Huberman 1994). In this way, we identified two main themes: (1) Muslim migrants’ understandings of and beliefs in jinn and (2) experiences with biomedical treatment from the perspectives of Muslim migrants and their relationships with diverse medical or religious professionals. These themes are examined in the following sections.

Understandings of and Beliefs in Jinn In this section, we summarise the understandings of and beliefs in jinn identified in the included literature. Our findings point to perceptions of diverse relationships between health and jinn, and to demographic differences in beliefs.

Migration, Mental Health, and Jinn In a systematic review of prevalence studies of mental disorders in refugees resettled in Western societies, Fazel et al. state that refugees6 are more often affected by mental health issues than the non-migrant population of the country of immigration (Fazel et al. 2005). Similarly, Gerritsen et al. writing about Afghan, Iranian and Somali refugees and asylum seekers living in the Netherlands note the high prevalence of (mental) health problems among these groups (Gerritsen et al. 2006). In their anthropological study of Bangladeshis living in the East End of London, UK, Dein

9

JINN AND MENTAL SUFFERING BY MIGRANTS IN EUROPE …

171

et al. support and explain this tendency. These authors suggest that their participants’ poor living conditions, high unemployment rate, exposure to racism and increasing Islamophobia in Europe permeate every sphere of life and contribute to vulnerability to mental health issues. Dein and colleagues further note that their participants tended to make supernatural powers like jinn responsible for their situations, as they seem to find themselves in circumstances beyond their own control, thus perceiving their lives to be controlled by sources more powerful than themselves (Dein et al. 2008, 34–35). Similarly, participants in Kuitinnen et al.’s study of older Somali refugees living in Finland named jinn as one of the most common causes for mental suffering (Kuittinen et al. 2017, 227). However, not all studies point to a belief that jinn cause mental illness. For example, the results of Johnsdotter et al. show that the Somali immigrants living in Sweden attribute the mental issues they experience mostly to social and psychological stress.7

Beliefs in Jinn, Gender and Age Several studies indicate differences in beliefs in jinn and their impact on health, in accordance with either gender or age. The study by Kuitinnen et al. of older Somali refugees in Finland indicates that women in particular attribute mental health issues to jinn, whereas male participants mostly identify psychosomatic and psychological reasons for suffering (Kuittinen et al. 2017, 225, 227). The British Bangladeshi participants in the study by Dein et al. in East London (UK) confirmed the general existence of jinn; nonetheless, they disagreed on the extent of influence that jinn exert over the human body and mind. Participants who were older than forty stated more often than younger participants that jinn cause diseases (Dein et al. 2008, 38). Dein et al., however, point to the possibility of younger participants denying the belief in jinn out of fear of being stigmatised as “backward” (Dein et al. 2008, 46). One participant mentioned that jinn are often regarded as causes for problems, although, he noted, this is rarely the case. According to this participant, even though the Quran confirms the existence of jinn, it is questionable whether jinn are responsible for diseases. He described people believing in such causalities as “backwards” and “small minded” (Dein et al. 2008, 38). Overall, the younger respondents in this study were more inclined to reject belief in jinn as a cause for complaints, often describing themselves as “modern”, while labelling “the

172

S. BÄRTLEIN AND N. NISSEN

others”—mostly older members of the community—“traditional” (Dein et al. 2008, 32). The younger respondents of the study by Islam et al. on Black and minority ethnic mental health service users in Birmingham (UK) often combined biomedical and religious ideas to explain illness. Many were said to be aware of the influence a high alcohol or drug consumption may have on mental health, such as psychosis, but contextualised such behaviour and its possible consequences within a religious-spiritual framework. For example, one British Pakistani respondent stated: “As soon as we smoke weed or we have alcohol, we’re not pure, our bodies are not pure so we are prone to attack from evil forces” (Islam et al. 2015). In this way, both approaches to understanding illness and treatment can exist side-by-side, rather than contradicting each other (Islam et al. 2015, 737–753).

Manifestation of Jinn Respondents in some of the included studies linked the power of jinn to psychological and physical issues (Dein et al. 2008). For example, Muslim Bangladeshis living in East London, UK described psychological symptoms that could result from the influence of jinn, including abrupt changes in behaviour, isolation from family members and friends, failing in religious duties and behaviour such as stealing or cheating on one’s partner (Dein et al. 2008, 38–39). The Swedish Somali informants in Johnsdotter et al.’s study stated that hearing voices and speaking with an unfamiliar voice could be a symptom of having been entered by a jinn. For example, one informant of Johnsdotter et al. who was on medication for schizophrenia stated that he was possessed by a jinn (Johnsdotter et al. 2011, 734–744). Lim et al. reviewed 47 published case studies of “jinn as an explanatory model in the context of psychotic disorders” (Lim et al. 2014, 18). Based on their review and analysis, they list the following psychiatric symptoms as manifestations of jinn: “hallucinations, delusions, anxiety, aggression, mutism, anorexia, sleep disturbances, catatonic posturing, and self-mutilation” (Lim et al. 2014, 23). Further, in their review of case studies of the relationship between jinn and psychotic disorders, Lim et al. also identify physical symptoms attributed to the influence of a jinn, including epileptic seizures, knee injury, paralysis of a limb, typhoid fever and the effects of alcohol withdrawal (Lim et al. 2014, 24).

9

JINN AND MENTAL SUFFERING BY MIGRANTS IN EUROPE …

173

Participants in Dein et al.’s study of British Bangladeshis (Dein et al. 2008, 39) attributed physical symptoms and complaints, such as pain and fatigue, whose origin was perceived as not diagnosable or treatable with biomedical therapies to the influence of jinn. Some respondents in Dein et al.’s study are said to differentiate between being influenced and being possessed by jinn. A jinn¯ı’s embodied manifestation seems to be regarded as possession by a jinn¯ı , whereas an impact of a jinn¯ı from the outside is described as mere influence of the jinn on the body and/or mind. A jinn¯ı’s influence becomes visible not only through physical or psychological symptoms, as jinn can also have an impact on a person’s life in other, more indirect ways. A participant in Dein’s study of Bangladeshis in East London stated that his sister experienced mysterious occurrences in her house, which were explained by jinn¯ı’s presence. The residents of the house suffered from sleeping troubles, and their baby cried all the time. In addition, the family was disturbed by recurrent ringing of the doorbell. According to a Bangladeshi who specialised in treating people who suffer from jinn, a jinn¯ı was living in the apartment, terrorising its residents, because that particular apartment was previously characterised by a high fluctuation of tenants (Dein et al. 2008, 40). Pointing to similar liminal states and fluidity, Dein and colleagues mentioned that people whose bodies undergo a process of transformation, such as women during menstruation and pregnancy, are said to be particularly receptive or vulnerable to jinn (Dein et al. 2008, 37).

Experience with Biomedical Treatment This section presents both some Muslim migrants’ experiences of biomedical psychological care and the perspectives of other actors who were involved in providing care. These actors include traditional healers and imams, as well as psychologists, psychotherapists, psychiatrists, nurses, and social workers. Our findings point to distinct patterns of accessing care, diverse understandings of illness and treatments, and tendencies to integrative practices among Muslim migrants.

Pathways to Treatment Two overarching patterns of accessing care can be noted in the identified literature. People living with mental health challenges may initially contact a biomedical professional before turning to a religious healer, as Hoffer

174

S. BÄRTLEIN AND N. NISSEN

found in his study of Islamic healers and their clients in the Netherlands. According to Hoffer, consultation with a healer was usually resorted to after negative experiences with biomedical care (Hoffer 1992, 47–48). On the other hand, the Somali Swedish respondents of Johnsdotter et al. and Levy and colleagues’ study of male clergy—including Christian ministers, rabbis and imams—in the UK indicated that participants first contacted a traditional healer before seeking mainstream psychological treatment (Johnsdotter et al. 2011, 748–749; Leavey et al. 2007, 548–559). In this case, as noted by Johnsdotter et al., contacting a healer had been the preferred approach, as these Somali migrants attributed their issues to supernatural causes and thus favoured treatment by a person who specialises in addressing such causes (Johnsdotter et al. 2011, 748–749; Islam et al. 2015, 744, 748–749). Family members appear to have a strong influence on care pathways. The study by Islam et al. indicates that family members frequently advise an affected person to consult a Muslim faith healer, whereby relatives’ advice is often based on personal experience or on acquaintances’ experience with faith healers (Islam et al. 2015, 744–745). In addition, in a study of black and minority ethnic psychosis services in the UK, participants with Pakistani Muslim backgrounds highlight that family members of service users at times felt excluded from discussions and decisions about care and perceived that their opinions and knowledge of the patient were not sufficiently valued by biomedical professionals involved in their relative’s care. Not only relatives and patients criticised the family’s exclusion; so did social workers and healers who worked within the community, as Islam’s study in the UK shows (Islam et al. 2015, 744). If relatives feeling disregarded, they may advise the affected person not to continue psychological care, but to contact a faith healer instead.8 Perceptions and experiences of social stigma also play a significant role in care pathways for people with mental health needs. For example, some Somali migrant women living in Sweden are reported to avoid attending biomedical professionals in order to evade the prescription of psychopharmaceuticals, since these may affect bodyweight, facial expressions and body language, making mental illness potentially visible to others in the community (Johnsdotter et al. 2011, 749–750). Further, some patients in Islam and colleagues’ study of early intervention services in the UK were reported to have experienced disrespect from translators from their own community; and it has been claimed that some translators abuse their knowledge about patients’ mental suffering (Islam et al. 2015, 746).

9

JINN AND MENTAL SUFFERING BY MIGRANTS IN EUROPE …

175

However, Muslim migrants with mental health problems may be anxious not only about being stigmatised within their community, but also of being stigmatised by biomedical professionals. Some Pakistani psychosis service users in the UK expressed concern that their perceptions of supernatural powers like jinn could be misunderstood as being a result of their illness, rather than as being part of a cultural-religious framework (Islam et al. 2015, 747).

Knowledges, Integrative Practices and the Needs of Patients Knowledge about different understandings of illness and treatment approaches (or the lack thereof) and various ways of integrating biomedical and non-biomedical approaches appear to be a recurring topic in several studies. Diverse groups of participants in several studies—patients, voluntary and community organisation representatives, Islamic healers and biomedical professionals—express a wish for care practices to integrate both biomedical and traditional and/or religious understandings and approaches (Islam et al. 2015, 748; Hoffer 1992, 50). Hoffer in particular cites a Dutch example of cooperation between biomedical professionals and an Islamic healer (Hoffer 1992, 50). On the other hand, participants in Islam et al.’s study feared that biomedical professionals might reject their wish for treatment by a traditional healer alongside biomedical care. As a result, patients may not disclose any non-biomedical treatment provided by a traditional healer, which can negatively affect the psychological treatment process. Further, some British Pakistani psychosis service users in the same study seem to believe that Western psychologists were generally unable to understand the idea of supernatural powers such as jinn. According to one respondent, it was self-evident that biomedical professionals could not comprehend patients’ view of their illness and its supernatural causes and possible religious treatments, since they were Western-trained professionals (Islam et al. 2015, 747). In addition, Black and minority ethnic service users of mainly British Pakistani background living in the UK and their social workers perceive psychologists as rarely familiar with the cultural and religious backgrounds of their patients, while some biomedical professionals acknowledge a lack of cultural education during their medical training. Training and seminars were perceived as overgeneralising and failing to address variations within individual cultures in appropriate detail. However, Islam et al. also

176

S. BÄRTLEIN AND N. NISSEN

stress that most of the Black and minority ethnic service users preferred individual treatment to ethnic- or gender-specific treatment (Islam et al. 2015, 747–748). Patients’ lack of knowledge about mental health issues and available mainstream services is also identified in this body of literature. Commissioners and voluntary and community organisation representatives in the study by Islam et al. report that service users living in the UK seem to lack knowledge about possible biomedical services for people who experience mental health problems (Islam et al. 2015, 745, 748). The Somali migrants in the study of Johnsdotter et al. also acknowledge their lack of knowledge of possible treatment options (Johnsdotter et al. 2011, 745). Many participants expressed surprise about the existing range of biomedical counselling and care facilities. This highlights a lack of information about treatment options available to those affected by mental illnesses. However, only a minority of the religious actors agreed with the idea of providing information about biomedical treatment during their own treatment.9 This can be said to mirror the anticipated rejection of multiple concurrent treatments by biomedical professionals noted above (Islam et al. 2015, 747).

Discussion In this paper, we have presented findings from a review of selected social science literature that examines the phenomenon of jinn and suffering, as described by Muslim migrants living in various Western societies. The thematic analysis of nine articles included in the review highlights two main themes: (1) Muslim migrants’ understandings of and beliefs in jinn and (2) experiences with biomedical treatment from the perspectives of Muslim migrants and diverse medical or religious professionals. Our findings indicate that women as well as older Muslim migrants in general are more likely to believe that jinn cause various forms of physical and emotional suffering, including mental illness, while some men tend to see psychological causes for suffering. Younger participants in the included studies appear less likely to believe in a causative relationship between jinn and health complaints. Indeed, perceiving beliefs in jinn as backwards, some younger people describe themselves as “modern”, in contrast to older generations whom they perceive as “traditional”. Such attributions have also been noticed in predominantly Muslim countries. For instance, in his study of people living in two neighbourhoods of

9

JINN AND MENTAL SUFFERING BY MIGRANTS IN EUROPE …

177

Ankara, Turkey, Dole makes a similar observation. According to Dole, the proponents of biomedical treatment describe people who believe in traditional healing as “undeveloped” and as “opponents of progress”. Conversely, proponents of traditional healing practices referred to those opposing such practices as “unbelievers” and described them as “the youth”, which is perceived to be lacking maturity (Dole 2004, 270). Likewise, opponents of complementary and alternative medicine (CAM) in Western societies frequently deride CAM users (predominantly women) as irrational, ignorant, and duped (MacArtney and Wahlberg 2014). Two main pathways to non-biomedical and/or traditional forms of healing, including religious healers, are highlighted by our findings. Participants in the included studies either drew on non-biomedical healing practices as a result of dissatisfaction with biomedical care or out of concern about stigmatisation, or they accessed traditional healing support for complaints perceived to be caused by supernatural causes and therefore not amenable to biomedical treatment. Several studies indicate that family members and social networks play a significant role in the choice of treatment, such as traditional and/or religious forms of healing or biomedical care (Islam et al. 2015, 744–745; Johnsdotter et al. 2011, 745–750). The advice of relatives is generally based on their personal experience and contacts, a pattern also common among users of complementary and alternative medicine in Europe (Nissen et al. 2013). It can be noted that, in general, information from diverse sources about different treatment options and their implications, including biomedical provision, seems to be limited for many of the study participants. This contrasts with patients’ rights to information, recommendations grounded in public health ethics and the health policy objectives regarding information that the World Health Organisation10 and the European Commission promote.11 Thus, our review points to the need for public health systems to provide more encompassing health information to all citizens in order to support citizens’ decision-making about their health and their protection from risks and threats (Nissen et al. 2013). Different understandings of illness and treatment approaches, including health professionals’ lack of knowledge about non-biomedical approaches, are a recurring topic in several studies identified in this review. Not only may this influence citizens’ pathways to care, as noted above; it may also hinder the disclosure of the use of traditional or religious forms of healing to biomedical professionals while receiving mainstream care, a tendency also frequently observed among users of complementary and

178

S. BÄRTLEIN AND N. NISSEN

alternative medicine in Europe and other Western countries.12 Common reasons for non-disclosure include: not having been asked about nonbiomedical approaches, perceiving non-biomedical care to be safe, the fact that biomedical and non-biomedical care address different issues and fear of being discriminated against by biomedical professionals (Robinson and McGrail 2004). Non-disclosure of non-biomedical treatment, such as the use of medicinal herbs, however, may negatively impact biomedical care, for example cancer treatment or some medications for mental illness. The close connection between lack of reliable evidence-based information about non-biomedical care, professionals’ lack of knowledge about such approaches and patients’ non-disclosure has been noted previously (Nissen et al. 2012b). Several studies point to Muslim patient participants’ wish for the integration of traditional and/or religious forms of healing with biomedical care (Islam et al. 2015, 748; Hoffer 1992, 50). There is no single approach to the integration of non-biomedical and biomedical healthcare, and opinions differ concerning the value and appropriateness of any form of integration (Kadetz 2013). Some scholars argue that non-biomedical treatments cannot be validated for safety and effectiveness by biomedical trials and it is therefore unethical to promote them, and others argue that non-biomedical approaches should not and/or cannot be validated by biomedical standards, as they are underpinned by different epistemologies (Kadetz 2013; Fischer et al. 2012). These debates point to multiple dilemmas grounded in public health ethics, which is concerned with social justice and equity in health, the need to respect individual autonomy and the obligation to prevent harm (Nissen et al. 2013). Overall, due to a paucity of reliable evidence of the safety and effectiveness of most nonbiomedical treatments, few traditional, religious and/or complementary and alternative therapies are integrated into public health system provision in Western societies.13 Yet, many individuals, including some participants in the studies presented here (Hoffer 1992; Johnsdotter et al. 2011, 745– 748), integrate diverse therapeutic approaches into their everyday health care practices.14 This review highlights that the issues involved in the phenomenon of migration, jinn and health are highly complex and require further research. Further research should consistently consider the diversity of beliefs held about jinn, health and illness, the diversity of immigrants in terms of age, gender, education, and other intersecting social differences, the diversity of countries of origin and immigration, and the diversity

9

JINN AND MENTAL SUFFERING BY MIGRANTS IN EUROPE …

179

of regulations concerning non-biomedical therapies in each country of immigration.15 Such work would provide fruitful opportunities for collaboration between medical anthropologists, Islamic Studies scholars, health services researchers and medical and religious professionals and would offer significant knowledge and understanding to improve and support the health of immigrants to Western societies. This review has made a modest contribution to this endeavour.

Notes 1. For a brief overview, see D. B. MacDonald, H. Massé, P. N. Boratav, K. A. Nizami and P. Voorhoeve, Djinn (Leiden: Brill, 2012), Encyclopaedia of ¯ Islam, second edition and Jacqueline Chabbi, Jinn (Leiden: Brill, 2003), Encyclopaedia of the Qur’an, third edition, 43–50. 2. To be more precise, in the quotations from the interviewees, jinn are often described as single protagonists. In most cases, it seems to be a single jinn who is causing a (health) issue. See Simon Dein et al., “Jinn, Psychiatry and Contested Notions of Misfortune Among East London Bangladeshis,” Transcultural Psychiatry 45, no. 1 (March 2008): 39; Sara Johnsdotter et al., “Koran Reading and Negotiation with Jinn: Strategies to Deal with Mental Ill Health Among Swedish Somalis,” Mental Health, Religion & Culture 14, no. 8 (2011): 744, 749. 3. Dein et al. refer to them as “East London Bangladeshis”, see Dein et al., “Jinn, Psychiatry and Contested Notions of Misfortune,” 36. 4. Islam et al. “Psychosis Services in the United Kingdom,” 738. The group of “Black and minority ethnic (BME) service users” consisted mainly of British Pakistanis. 5. “Migrant,” Key Migration Terms, IOM, retrieved from: https://www. iom.int/key-migration-terms#Migration, last accessed May 22, 2019. 6. Fazel et al. also include in their review “former refugees granted citizenship in their new countries”. Mina Fazel et al., “Prevalence of Serious Mental Disorder in 7000 Refugees Resettled in Western Countries: A Systematic Review,” The Lancet 365, no. 9467 (2005): 1309–1314, 1309. 7. However, Johnsdotter et al. do not mention how many of the interviewees designated jinn as the main cause of their mental suffering. Johnsdotter et al., “Koran reading,” 744. 8. Ibid. Islam et al. use various terms here, e.g., “faith/spiritual healer” or “traditional healer”, ibid., 747. 9. Again, it is important to note that this survey cannot be seen as representative, since Islam et al. interviewed only eight religious actors. Moreover, Islam et al. use the term “spiritual care representatives”, but do not specify

180

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

S. BÄRTLEIN AND N. NISSEN

the exact number of Muslim healers among these representatives. Islam et al., “Psychosis Services in the United Kingdom,” 748. “Patients’ Rights,” Genomic Resource Centre, WHO, retrieved from: https://www.who.int/genomics/public/patientrights/en/, last accessed March 7, 2019. “Patients’ Rights in the European Union Mapping exercise,” European Commission, retrieved from: https://ec.europa.eu/health/sites/health/ files/cross_border_care/docs/2018_mapping_patientsrights_frep_en.pdf, last accessed March 7, 2019. Anske Robinson and Matthew R. McGrail, “Disclosure of CAM Use to Medical Practitioners: A Review of Qualitative and Quantitative Studies,” Complementary Therapies in Medicine 12, no. 2–3 (2004): 90–98; Nina Nissen et al., “Citizens’ Needs and Attitudes Towards CAM,” CAMbrella Report to the EU commission (2012): 107. For a brief overview, see Jon Adams et al., “Public Health and Health Services Research in Integrative Medicine: An Emerging, Essential Focus,” European Journal of Integrative Medicine 5, no. 1 (2013): 1–3. E.g. Susan Eardley et al., “A Systematic Literature Review of Complementary and Alternative Medicine Prevalence in E.U.,” Forschende Komplementärmedizin 19, suppl. 2 (2012): 18–28. For details in Europe, see Solveig Wiesener et al., “Legal Status and Regulation of Complementary and Alternative Medicine in Europe,” Forschende Komplementärmedizin 19, suppl. 2 (2012): 29–36.

Bibliography Adams, Jon, Elizabeth Sommers, and Nicola Robinson. “Public Health and Health Services Research in Integrative Medicine: An Emerging, Essential Focus.” European Journal of Integrative Medicine 5, no. 1 (2013): 1–3, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.eujim.2012.11.004. Chabbi, Jacqueline. “Jinn.” In Encyclopaedia of the Qur ¯ an, edited by Jane Dammen McAuliffe. Leiden: Brill, 2018, BrillOnline, http://dx.doi.org/10. 1163/1875-3922_q3_EQSIM_00237. Dalgard, Odd Steffen, Suraj Bahadur Thapa, Edvard Hauff, Michael Mccubbin, and Hammad Raza Syed. “Immigration, Lack of Control and Psychological Distress: Findings from the Oslo Health Study.” Scandinavian Journal of Psychology 47, no. 6 (2006): 551–558, https://doi.org/10.1111/j.14679450.2006.00546.x. Dein, Simon, Malcolm Alexander, and A. David Napier. “Jinn, Psychiatry and Contested Notions of Misfortune Among East London Bangladeshis.” Transcultural Psychiatry 45, no. 1 (2008): 31–55, https://doi.org/10.1177/136 3461507087997.

9

JINN AND MENTAL SUFFERING BY MIGRANTS IN EUROPE …

181

Dieste, Josep Lluís Mateo and Martin Beagles. Health and Ritual in Morocco Conceptions of the Body and Healing Practices. Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2013. Dole, Christopher. “In the Shadows of Medicine and Modernity: Medical Integration and Secular Histories of Religious Healing in Turkey.” Culture, Medicine and Psychiatry 28, no. 3 (2004): 255–280, https://doi.org/10. 1023/B:MEDI.0000046423.59991.de. Eardley, Susan, Felicity L. Bishop, Philip Prescott, Francesco Cardini, Benno Brinkhaus, Koldo Santos-Rey, Jorge Vas, Klaus Von Ammon, Gabriella Hegyi, Simona Dragan, Bernard Uehleke, Vinjar Fønnebø and George Lewith. “A Systematic Literature Review of Complementary and Alternative Medicine Prevalence in EU.” Forschende Komplementärmedizin 19, suppl. 2 (2012): 18–28, https://doi.org/10.1159/000342708. European Commission. “Patients’ Rights in the European Union Mapping eXercise.” Retrieved from: https://ec.europa.eu/health/sites/health/files/cross_ border_care/docs/2018_mapping_patientsrights_frep_en.pdf, last accessed April 7, 2019. Fazel, Mina, Jeremy Wheeler, and John Danesh. “Prevalence of Serious Mental Disorder in 7000 Refugees Resettled in Western Countries: A Systematic Review.” The Lancet 365, no. 9467 (2005): 1309–1314, 1309, https://doi. org/10.1016/S0140-6736(05)61027-6. Fischer, H. Felix, Florian Junne, Claudia Witt, Klaus von Ammon, Francesco Cardini, Vinjar Fonnebo, Helle Johannessen, George Lewith, Bernhard Uehleke, Wolfgang Weidenhammer, and Benno Brinkhaus. “Key Issues in Clinical and Epidemiological Research in Complementary and Alternative Medicine—A Systematic Literature Review.” Forschende Komplementärmedizin 19, suppl. 2 (2012): 51–60, https://doi.org/10.1159/000 343126. Gerritsen, Annette, Inge Bramsen, Walter Devillé, Loes Van Willigen, Johannes Hovens, and Henk Van Der Ploeg. “Use of Health Care Services by Afghan, Iranian, and Somali Refugees and Asylum Seekers Living in The Netherlands.” European Journal of Public Health 16, no. 4 (2006): 394–99, https://doi. org/10.1093/eurpub/ckl046. Hoffer, C. B. M. “The Practice of Islamic Healing.” In Islam in Dutch Society: Current Developments and Future Prospects, edited by W. A. R. Shadid and P. S. van Koningsveld. Kampen: Pharos Publishing House (1992): 40–53. IOM. “Migrant.” Key Migration Terms. Retrieved from: ds://www.iom.int/keymigration-terms#Migration, last accessed May 22, 2019. Islam, Zoebia, Fatemeh Rabiee, and Swaran P. Singh. “Black and Minority Ethnic Groups’ Perception and Experience of Early Intervention in Psychosis Services in the United Kingdom.” Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology 46, no. 5 (2015): 745, 737–753, https://doi.org/10.1177/0022022115575737.

182

S. BÄRTLEIN AND N. NISSEN

Johnsdotter, Sara, Karin Ingvarsdotter, Margareta Östman, Margareta and Aje Carlbom. “Koran Reading and Negotiation with Jinn: Strategies to Deal with Mental Ill Health Among Swedish Somalis.” Mental Health, Religion & Culture 14, no. 8 (2011): 741–55, https://doi.org/10.1080/13674676. 2010.521144. Kadetz, Paul. “Challenging a Universal Approach to Health Care Integration: China, Cuba, and the Philippines.” European Journal of Integrative Medicine 5, no. 1 (2013): 54–61, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.eujim.2012.11.006. Kuittinen, Saija, Mulki Mölsä, Raija-Leena Punamäki, Tiilikainen Marja, and Marja-Liisa Honkasalo. “Causal Attributions of Mental Health Problems and Depressive Symptoms Among Older Somali Refugees in Finland.” Transcultural Psychiatry 52, no. 2 (2017): 211–38, https://doi.org/10.1177/136 3461516689003. Leavey, Gerard, Kate Loewenthal, and Michael King. “Challenges to Sanctuary: The Clergy as a Resource for Mental Health Care in the Community.” Social Science & Medicine 65, no. 3 (2007): 548–59, https://doi.org/10.1016/j. socscimed.2007.03.050. Lim, Anastasia, Hans W. Hoek, and Jan Dirk Blom. “The Attribution of Psychotic Symptoms to Jinn in Islamic Patients.” Transcultural Psychiatry 52, no. 1 (2014): 18–32, https://doi.org/10.1177/1363461514543146. MacArtney, John. I., and Ayo Wahlberg. “The Problem of Complementary and Alternative Medicine Use Today: Eyes Half Closed?” Qualitative Health Research 24, no. 1 (2014): 114–123, https://doi.org/10.1177/104973231 3518977. MacDonald, D. B., H. Massé, P. N. Boratav, K. A. Nizami, and P. Voorhoeve. “Djinn.” In Encyclopaedia of Islam, Second Edition, edited by P. Bearman, T.¯ Bianquis, C. E. Bosworth, E. van Donzel, and W. P. Heinrichs. Leiden: Brill, 2012, BrillOnline, http://dx.doi.org/10.1163/1573-3912_i slam_COM_0191, last accessed March 7, 2019. Miles, Matthew B. and Michael A. Huberman. Qualitative Data Analysis: An Expanded Sourcebook. London: Sage, 1994. Nissen, Nina, Susanne Schunder-Tatzber, Wolfgang Weidenhammer, and Helle Johannessen. “What Attitudes and Needs Do Citizens in Europe Have in Relation to Complementary and Alternative Medicine?” Forschende Komplementärmedizin 19, suppl. 2 (2012a): 9–17, https://doi.org/10.1159/000 342710. Nissen, Nina, Helen Johannessen, Susanne Schunder-Tatzber, and Wolfgang Weidenhammer. “Citizens’ Needs and Attitudes Towards CAM.” CAMbrella Report to the EU commission (2012b): 107. Nissen, Nina, Wolfgang Weidenhammer, Susanne Schunder-Tatzber, and Helen Johannessen. “Public Health Ethics for Complementary and Alternative

9

JINN AND MENTAL SUFFERING BY MIGRANTS IN EUROPE …

183

Medicine.” European Journal of Integrative Medicine 5, no. 1 (2013): 62–67, http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.eujim.2012.11.003. Nünlist, Tobias. Dämonenglaube im Islam. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2015. Richter, Dirk, B. Eikelmann, and T. Reker. “Arbeit, Einkommen, Partnerschaft: Die soziale Exklusion psychisch kranker Menschen.” Gesundheitswesen 68, no. 1 (2006): 704–707, https://doi.org/10.1055/s-2006-927288. Robinson, Anske and Matthew R. McGrail. “Disclosure of CAM Use to Medical Practitioners: A Review of Qualitative and Quantitative Studies.” Complementary Therapies in Medicine 12, no. 2–3 (2004): 90–98, https://doi.org/10. 1016/j.ctim.2004.09.006. Stevenson, Fiona A., Nicky Britten, Christine A. Barry, Colin P. Bradley, and Nick Barber. “Self-Treatment and Its Discussion in Medical Consultations: How Is Medical Pluralism Managed in Practice?” Social Science & Medicine 57, no. 3 (2003): 513–527, https://doi.org/10.1016/S0277-9536(02)003 77-5. WHO. “Patients’ Rights.” Genomic Resource Centre. Retrieved from: https:// www.who.int/genomics/public/patientrights/en/, last accessed March 7, 2019. Wiesener, Solveig, Torkel Falkenberg, Gabriella Hegyi, Johanna Hok, Paolo Roberti di Sarsina, and Vinjar Fonnebo. “Legal Status and Regulation of Complementary and Alternative Medicine in Europe.” Forschende Komplementärmedizin 19, suppl. 2 (2012): 29–36, https://doi.org/10.1159/000 343125.

CHAPTER 10

Jinn Beliefs in Western Psychiatry: A Study of Three Cases from a Psychiatric and Cultural Perspective Maria Galsgaard

Introduction and Theory The following sections introduce the notion of jinn and anthropologic and psychiatric understandings of possession, including how possession is conceptualized in the main psychiatric diagnostic manuals, namely The International Classification of Diseases, Eleventh Edition (ICD-11) (WHO 2018), published by the World Health Organization, and The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition (DSM-5), published by the American Psychiatric Association, 2013 (APA 2013). Finally, the introduction gives an example of a phenomenon, the night-mare, which Muslim patients frequently attribute to a jinn attack.

M. Galsgaard (B) Competence Centre for Transcultural Psychiatry, Psychiatric Centre Ballerup, Ballerup, Denmark © The Author(s) 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4_10

185

186

M. GALSGAARD

The Notion of Jinn in the Quran The word jinn comes from the Arabic root j-n-n, which means “to conceal,” referring to the conception of jinn (pl. jinn, sing. jinn¯ı) as invisible spirits. Together with angels, heaven, and hell, jinn form the unseen world, al-ghayb, which has a pivotal role in Islam (El-Zein 2009, 1). Jinn are mentioned 32 times in the Quran, with a whole chapter dedicated to the description of jinn, s¯ urat al-jinn, but also in the hadiths, other Islamic texts, and Arab folklore (Abdel Haleem 2008, 27; Khalifa et al. 2011, 74). According to the Quran, humans are made from clay, while jinn are made from smokeless fire.1 Jinn are believed to live like humans; they are born, grow up, work, get married, enter politics, belong to tribes, form social classes, and go to war (El-Zein 2009, 16; Lim et al. 2015, 20). Like humans, jinn are intelligent beings who are free to make choices— thus they, too, can follow God (Allah) or not.2 Jinn live among us and prefer damp, dark, unclean, filthy places like graveyards, basements, and bathrooms (Lim et al. 2015, 20). Humans are visible to jinn, and jinn can sometimes choose to make themselves visible to humans by manipulating human imagination (El-Zein 2009, 9). They can take the form of animals, objects, or humans (Al-Ashqar 2003, 34). Another prominent figure of al-ghayb is shayt.¯ an (pl. shay¯ a.t¯ın). Shayt.¯ an can be seen as a principle of evil, a whisper (wasw¯ as ) that will tempt and misguide you away from the right path3 (Bodman 1996, 249). Ibl¯ıs and shayt.¯ an are often used interchangeably by Muslims, though in the Quran Ibl¯ıs is the precursor of shayt.¯ an, who emerges with Ibl¯ıs ’ refusal to bow to Adam in heaven. The plural shay¯ a.t¯ın is used to refer to mischievous humans and spirits similar to jinn (Fahd and Rippin 2012).

Jinn Influence, Possession, and Spiritual Healing Jinn can influence the life of humans in unpredictable ways (Al-Ashqar 2003, 1–2, 24–25). By a simple touch, Jinn can cause depression, anxiety, chronic headaches, infertility, hallucinations, and more (Lim et al. 2015, 20). According to many Islamic scholars, a jinn¯ı is able to enter a person’s body and possess it (Al-Ashqar 2003, 87). However, some scholars argue that jinn only influence people, rather than entering and inhabiting their bodies (Dein and Illaiee 2013, 291).

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

187

Jinn influence or possession is initiated either by a jinn¯ı or by bad intentions from others. Jinn can choose to influence a human out of revenge or admiration (Meftah 2018, 1). Some argue that jinn are able to enter romantic relationships with humans, thus preventing them from marrying another human. Jinn can be used in Islamic magic (sih.r) and, like humans, can give the evil eye (al- ayn), i.e., with an envious (h.as¯ ud) glance or intention, create adversity for a person (Krawietz 2002, 346, 349; Mullick et al. 2013, 719). Furthermore, an individual can be more or less vulnerable to jinn affliction (Al-Ashqar 2003, 123). Vulnerability increases during transitional phases, e.g., menstruation, traveling, or pregnancy, and by displaying certain character traits, such as weak will, low self-confidence, greediness, and sinfulness (Lim et al. 2015, 21; Dein and Illaiee 2013, 291). A person can decrease his or her vulnerability by strengthening the spiritual immune system (¯ım¯ an), by reading and following the scripture of the Quran and the Sunna (e.g., daily reciting The Throne Verse, ¯ ayat al-kurs¯ı4 ) (Al-Ashqar 2003, 118). Jinn influence and possession manifest in a wide range of somatic and psychological symptoms and life adversities. Symptoms can range from marital discord, infertility, and financial misfortune to depression, anxiety, psychosis, strange recurrent night-mares, and chronic headache, among many other things. Jinn possession is displayed by noticeable distress and antagonism in the victim when confronted with the scripture of the Quran (Dein and Illaiee 2013, 292). Spiritual healers will employ a range of methods to treat the afflictions attributed to jinn. These methods include touching the patient’s head while reciting certain verses from the Quran (ruqya) and reciting it over water before instructing the afflicted person to drink it (Dein and Illaiee 2013, 292, Al-Ashqar 2003, 207). Belief in jinn is widespread in Muslim countries (PEW 2012, 67). However, Muslims will often hesitate to share their belief in jinn and afflictions caused by jinn, because they fear that mentioning them might invoke them or that they will be perceived as insane, sinful, or unfaithful (Lim et al. 2015, 21–22). In the two following sections, this article will introduce psychiatric conceptualizations of possession states and anthropological perspectives on spirit possession.

188

M. GALSGAARD

Possession in DSM-5 and ICD-11 as Dissociation Possession is included as a psychiatric phenomenon in the two main psychiatric diagnostic manuals used in Western mental health services, namely the ICD-115 and the DSM-5 (APA 2013). In both the ICD11 and the DSM-5, pathological (i.e., involuntary and non-induced) possession is classified under dissociative disorders. Dissociation, which is the main feature of the dissociative disorders, is “a disruption and/or discontinuity of the normal integration of consciousness, memory, identity, personality, emotion, perception, body representation, motor control and behavior.”6 Thus, both diagnostic manuals classify possession as a form and expression of dissociation, albeit the DSM-5 and ICD-11 differ somewhat in their clinical descriptions of this cross-cultural phenomenon. In ICD-11, the diagnosis named Possession Trance Disorder (PTD) is defined as “trance states in which there is a marked alteration in the individual’s state of consciousness and the individual’s customary sense of personal identity is replaced by an external ‘possessing’ identity and in which the individual’s behaviours or movements are experienced as being controlled by the possessing agent.”7 This can be manifested by the person seemingly changing personality and, e.g., speaking in a different voice. In DSM-5, possession is conceptualized as a cultural expression of Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), formerly termed Multiple Personality Disorder. DID emphasizes the existence of different identity states in the patient: “Disruption of identity characterized by two or more distinct personality states, which may be described in some cultures as an experience of possession.”8 The possessing spirit is here interpreted as a distinct personality state or identity. DID does not include the occurrence of trance states, but gaps in memory is a diagnostic criteria for DID. In sum, both the ICD-11 and the DSM-5 classify possession as a form of dissociation, which manifests in transient alterations of identity causing the occurrence of trance states (ICD-11) or memory gaps (DSM-5). Possession states voluntarily induced under religious ceremonies are excluded from the diagnosis, since they are not considered pathological in either the ICD-11 or the DSM-5. To be considered pathological, the possession state must additionally cause distress; thus, a belief in possession is not considered pathological if it does not entail distress. ICD-11 was partially released in 2018 (while sections on culture-specific features are due to be released in 2019) and has not yet been implemented in

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

189

the mental health services. This article uses ICD-11’s conceptualization of PTD, but the core elements of PTD are similar in the ICD-10 version.

Anthropological Perspectives on Possession This section presents two anthropological theories on spirit possessions—first, spirit possession as an idiom of distress and, next, as a division into executive and pathogenic possession. A study from 1973 by the pioneer anthropological researcher on spirit possession, Erika Bourguignon, shows that beliefs in spirit possession were present in 74% of 488 societies worldwide, and spirit possession has a long history as an object of anthropological research (Bourguignon 1973, 31). According to Bourguignon, spirit possessions can be viewed as a common idiom of distress (Bourguignon 2004, 570). An idiom of distress is a locally intelligible way of expressing distress and is deeply interwoven with the narratives, metaphors, and traditions of the specific culture (Hinton and Lewis-Fernándes 2010, 210; Nichter 1981, 379). Jinn possessions can be viewed as an idiom of distress, since in Muslim societies they offer a widely accepted understanding of the person’s suffering and treatment for it, such as ruqya (Duijl et al. 2013, 1419; Hecker et al. 2015, 9). Another prominent anthropologist scholar of spirit possession, Emma Cohen, divides the idiom of distress further into two types of spirit possessions—executive and pathogenic (Cohen 2008, 103). According to Cohen, executive possession entails a spirit, such as a jinn¯ı, taking over the person’s mind, thus making the person’s body a host for the spirit: “…spirits would inhabit a person’s body, speaking through the person to reveal their identity” (Cohen 2008, 105). This can be manifested by the person speaking in a different voice or acting differently. In pathogenic possession, the person’s identity remains intact. Instead, the spirit contaminates the person’s body causing somatic or psychological illness in the victim. However, the possession is regarded only as the cause of the person’s affliction, not as the cardinal symptom itself (Cohen 2008, 114). Hence, whereas executive possession comprises a well-defined and profound change in identity, pathogenic possession covers a vast variety of somatic and psychological distress caused by spirit possession. Possession disorders in ICD-11 and DSM-5 both refer to what Cohen classifies as executive possession, though trance or memory gaps are not a necessity in Cohen’s definition (Cohen 2008, 104). Pathogenic possession is not covered by DID or PTD. The analysis of the cases will show

190

M. GALSGAARD

how the diagnostic manuals in two cases conceptualize the experiences attributed to what Cohen classifies as pathogenic possession. Cohen’s classification of possession thus covers a broader spectrum of experiences than possession in ICD-11 and DSM-5.

Jinn and the Conceptualization of Possession: Summary Jinn are invisible spirits mentioned in several places in the Quran, the Hadiths, other Islamic texts, and Arab folklore. Jinn can make themselves visible and can influence and possess humans. The diagnostic system has defined spirit possession as a dissociative disorder in which the person’s identity is replaced by another. This is termed executive possession in Cohen’s classification of spirit possessions. Cohen additionally describes pathogenic possession, in which various forms of distress are causally attributed to spirits. Before presenting the cases, an example often attributed to a jinn attack—the night-mare—is provided (Jalal and Hinton 2013, 537).

The Night-Mare as Jinn Attacks The night-mare is a phenomenon in which people wake up paralyzed with a being on top, often strangling or having sexual intercourse with them. The word is hyphenated to differentiate it from the broader term nightmare, i.e., a frightening dream. The article takes the night-mare as an example, since it is often attributed to jinn and is under-researched in Western biomedicine (Denis et al. 2018, 143). Extensive folklore exists on the night-mare, and more than 100 cultures have a term for it, but in the Western world, e.g., Denmark, contemporary narratives on the phenomenon are rare. Similar to the section on spirit possession, both a psychiatric and a cultural perspective on the night-mare are presented.

The Psychiatric Perspective on the Night-Mare In psychiatric language, the night-mare is called sleep paralysis (SP) with incubus phenomenon. Sleep paralysis is a common phenomenon, and 75% of those afflicted with it will simultaneously experience types of hallucinations —called hypnagogic (while falling asleep) and hypnopompic (while awakening). These hallucinations often take the form of an evil presence

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

191

in the room (intruder phenomenon) or a being sitting on top of them (incubus phenomenon). Neurological studies suggest, though, that SP is a faulty variation of REM sleep, in which the person’s consciousness is caught in a limbo state between the dream world’s vivid imagery and the waking state (Cheyne et al. 1999, 320; Molendijk et al. 2017, 2). Several REM processes are still active when SP occurs. The first process still active is the temporary inhibition of motor centers of the brain, resulting in motor paralysis. Motor paralysis makes the person unable to speak, and his or her breathing becomes automatic. The temporary paralysis during REM sleep prevents the person from acting out his or her dream. Becoming aware and attempting to breathe in this state will cause a sensation of suffocation (Cheyne et al. 1999, 322). The second REM process still active is a strong activation of the brain’s fear system, comprising the limbic system (Hobson et al. 1998, R2). When people gain consciousness during SP, they feel severe anxiety symptoms including heavy pressure on the chest and a choking sensation around the throat. At the same time, the fear system produces a sense of terror, danger, and alertness. It is still uncertain how the hypnagogic and hypnopompic hallucinations are created. Cheyne et al. (1999, 321–322, 332) suggest that the perceptual activity of REM dreaming is faultily activated during SP. The sense of danger and bodily anxiety symptoms suffuse perceptual activity, creating intruder, or incubus hallucinations. SP with hypnagogic and hypnopompic hallucinations is a normal and widespread phenomenon in the general population, though there is a high correlation with PTSD, dissociative symptoms, anxiety, and depression (Jalal and Hinton 2013, 535–536; Molendijk et al. 2017, 4). McNally and Clancy argue that psychopathology, e.g., PTSD and depression, causes an erratic sleep, which will heighten the risk of developing the SP state (McNally and Clancy 2005, 600).

The Anthropological Perspective on the Night-Mare The night-mare has been described in folk tales throughout history and around the world (Cox 2015; Davies 2003, 3). The phenomenon was already described in Chinese literature in 400 AD and in ancient Greece (Sharpless and Doghramji 2015, 18; Wing et al. 1999, 151). In Scandinavian and English folk tales, the being is conceptualized as a mare that

192

M. GALSGAARD

rides on top of people’s chests at night, giving them bad dreams, hence the word night-mare (Davies 2003, 183). In present-day Western society, the paroxysm has been coupled with alien abductions and shadow people (Sharpless 2016, 39–40). The night-mare is a global phenomenon, though the variance in its occurrence from country to country (and from study to study) is massive (Sharpless and Doghramji 2015, 95). In Germany, the lifetime prevalence of the broader phenomenon SP is 5%, in Denmark 25%, in Egypt 44%, and in Canada 62% (Molendijk et al. 2017, 2; Jalal and Hinton 2013, 534).

Cultural Understandings Co-Create the Experience In a study by Jalal and Hinton, SP was compared in the general population of Egypt and Denmark with the aim of investigating how SP rates and phenomenology vary in relation to differences in explanatory models due to differences in religiosity and cultural backgrounds (Jalal and Hinton 2013, 534–548; Jalal et al. 2014, 158–175). The word SP is used in this section, since the study did not focus solely on the night-mare phenomenon, but on SP in general. In Egypt, the lifetime prevalence of SP was 44%, and in Denmark, the lifetime prevalence was 25%. In Egypt, a large percentage of those experiencing SP, 50%, feared they were going to die during it, while in Denmark it was only 17%. In Egypt, 71% believed that the cause of the SP was supernatural, 48% thought it was specifically caused by a malevolent jinn¯ı and 22% believed it was caused by a shayt.¯ an (Jalal et al. 2014, 163). In 90% of the cases in which a person attributed the SP to a jinn¯ı and turned to an imam, the imam confirmed that the SP was a jinn attack and recommended Quranic recitation as treatment, thus showing that attributing SP to a jinn attack is legitimate within (some) Muslim communities (Jalal et al. 2014, 163). Jalal and Hinton (2013, 543) suggest that, in cultures that offer conceptualization and explanation for SP, people will be culturally primed to recognize and label their experience. According to the salience hypothesis, there is an expectancy-induced sensitivity to the recognition of SP in a country where SP is understood in the context of jinn affliction and where religious treatments are offered (Jalal and Hinton 2013, 543). The person will be prepared to identify subtle cues of paralysis and attempt to move during the paralysis, thereby confirming an SP that might have gone unnoticed if the person had not

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

193

been primed. In accordance with the salience hypothesis, when the culture offers you cognitive categories to understand the SP experience, you are more likely to identify and notice the experience. The salience hypothesis could further explain why Canada has a high prevalence of SP, since Canadian cultures offer an extensive vocabulary on the phenomenon in aboriginal Inuit folklore, Newfoundland folklore (the old hag ), popular culture representations, and pranks (Adler 2011, 18).

Night-Mare: Summary The night-mare is a widespread, global, and non-pathological phenomenon. Psychiatric research has interpreted the phenomenon as being caused by disturbed REM sleep, while folklore interprets the phenomenon as caused by jinn or a mare, for instance. Research suggests that the night-mare is highly malleable to the narratives offered by the culture to conceptualize the phenomenon.

Case Presentation The preceding section presented the notion of jinn and the theory of possession, as well as a phenomenon explained in terms of jinn attacks. Next, this article provides a clinical presentation of three patients, who attribute distress to jinn influence or possession. These cases derive from the Competence Centre for Transcultural Psychiatry (CTP) located in Copenhagen. The CTP is a psychiatric outpatient facility primarily treating refugees traumatized with PTSD. The majority of the patients are Muslims from Iraq, Iran, Palestine, Syria, and Afghanistan. The patients in the cases have all been diagnosed with PTSD in accordance with ICD10 criteria.9 ICD-10 has been used to diagnose the cases, since the latest version ICD-11 has just come out and has not yet been put into use at the CTP. The cases display different phenomena with varying degrees of normality and psychopathology attributed to jinn affliction or possession. They will later be analyzed using the previously presented perspectives on possession. Case 1 Description. Shukria is a 48-year-old woman from Afghanistan who grew up in a Pashtun family in the countryside. She is Sunni, fasts during

194

M. GALSGAARD

Ramadan, and listens to Quran recitations on her SmartPhone. She was married to her cousin at the age of 17. She has never gone to school and is illiterate. Shukria was referred to the CTP by her general practitioner. She witnessed the execution of several family members by the Taliban. Furthermore, she experienced war between the Soviet army and the mujahidun in the 1980s and the following period of warlords vying for power in her country. PTSD symptomology. Shukria presents with symptoms of PTSD and depression, including re-experiencing trauma in night-mares, intrusive memories, and flashbacks. She suffers from hyperarousal, causing angry outbursts, anxiety, chronic tension headaches, widespread pain, and memory loss. She sleeps 2–3 h a night and feels isolated. Affliction attributed to jinn. Intermittently throughout the week, Shukria wakes up during the night, paralyzed and unable to speak. At the foot of the bed, she sees a being crawling on top of her chest and strangling her. Shukria believes that the being is a malevolent jinn¯ı that has possessed her and makes her unable to move or speak. Shukria suspects that the same jinn¯ı makes her quarrel with her family, causing her chronic headaches and recurrent nightmares. During her treatment at the CTP, Shukria suffered from suicidal thoughts and had suicidal plans, therefore she was admitted to an inpatient psychiatric hospital. In the diagnostic assessment at the hospital, the medical doctor evaluated Shukria’s experiences at night as an expression of psychosis. In addition, Shukria described her suicidal thoughts as a whisper from the Devil (shayt.¯ an). The doctor interpreted this as a symptom of psychosis, potentially schizophrenia. The mental health professionals at the CTP did not find psychotic symptoms. Case 2 Description. Aya is a 56-year-old Shiite Muslim from Iran who grew up in a dysfunctional family in the countryside. She prays three times a day, and recites ¯ aya al-kursi before bedtime. In her hometown, inexplicable episodes are often attributed to devils (shay¯ a.t¯ın). Her parents told Aya that a devil (shayt.¯ an) would appear if she did not follow their commands, e.g., go to bed on time. The family, especially male family members, used opium. As a child and young adult, Aya experienced severe sexual abuse from an uncle. On several occasions from the age of five until she turned 14, Aya was locked in a room, tied to a bed, and assaulted by her uncle.

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

195

He told Aya that a devil (shayt.¯ an) would kill her and her parents, if she told anyone of the abuse. PTSD symptomology. Aya has symptoms of PTSD, including reexperiences of the abuse, high arousal, avoidance behavior, and dissociative symptoms. Affliction attributed to jinn. At night Aya, wakes up paralyzed, sensing and seeing a being who rapes her. Aya feels like her hands are tied to the bed while the assault is happening. She can often hear the sound of keys locking and unlocking her bedroom door, even though the door has no lock. She defines the being as a devil (shayt.¯ an). During the day, Aya senses the being behind her, though she never sees it. She describes it as “a shayt.¯ an that haunts me around the house.” Aya can feel its breath on her neck, its fingers sliding up her arms, and its hands holding her arms down. She can smell the being, which reminds her of her uncle’s sweat. The being says derogatory comments, e.g., “you look disgusting,” “you are a slut.” The voice sounds like her uncle’s. The creature first appeared when Aya was eight. She has looked up ruqya on YouTube, but prefers treatment at the CTP if that can alleviate her symptoms. Case 3 Description. Ahmad is a 45-year-old man from Tunisia who had a safe and good childhood and adolescence. Ahmad is Sunni, prays five times a day, and often goes to his mosque in Copenhagen. He frequently reads the Quran and listens to recitations on YouTube. In Tunisia, he was imprisoned for five years, during which he was severely tortured. PTSD symptomology. Ahmad was initially diagnosed with PTSD and suffered from flashbacks, night-mares, irritability, sleep disturbances, concentration difficulties, and social withdrawal. Affliction attributed to jinn. Six months into his treatment at the CTP, Ahmad physically assaulted a taxi driver and a policeman. When Ahmad explained the incident to his medical doctor at the CTP, he disclosed symptoms he had earlier concealed. According to Ahmad, since the age of 20, he has been possessed by a jinn¯ı who commands him on a daily basis to act in certain ways. During the assault, Ahmad felt like his actions were controlled by the jinn¯ı, who commanded him to harm the taxi driver by saying “Burn him!” and “Do something so he

196

M. GALSGAARD

runs away!” Ahmad reported that during the assault, he could not distinguish between dream and reality and that the incident felt like a distant memory. He remembered vaguely being hit by a police officer, but at the time perceived the blow as if it were the possessing jinn¯ı who had been hit and remembers thinking that the jinn¯ı had deserved it. Additionally, Ahmad attributes some other phenomena to the jinn possession, including a sensation of insects crawling under his skin and daily visual scenarios in which he stands in the midst of hell, surrounded by hellfire. Often things in front of him will change form, e.g., he has recently seen his wife change into his mother. According to Ahmad, the jinn¯ı places abnormal sexual fantasies in his head, but he is reluctant to elaborate on the fantasies, since they are sinful. Like Shukria, Ahmad also wakes up paralyzed with a sensation of a being, interpreted as the jinn¯ı, sitting on top of him, strangling him. At his local mosque in Copenhagen Ahmad tried ruqya, an Islamic healing therapy, that attempts to expel the jinn¯ı, from the body, but without effect. In a session with his medical doctor at the CTP, Ahmad expressed his fear of transferring the jinn¯ı to the doctor and the translator. After the session, the translator said that she too was afraid of the jinn¯ı being transferred by eye contact (as a form of the evil eye).

Findings The following section analyzes and compares the three cases from a possession perspective to see if the possession theories can grasp the experiences the patients attribute to jinn. The analysis is based on theories presented in the introduction, both cultural perspectives on spirit possession and diagnostic conceptualizations of possession states. Other psychiatric concepts are included where the psychiatric conceptualization of possession does not capture the phenomena. An introductory overview of phenomena attributed to jinn or shayt.¯ an in the three cases is depicted in Table 10.1.

Pathogenic Possession, Sleep Paralysis, and PTSD with Psychotic Symptoms Both Shukria and Aya see the jinn¯ı and the shayt.¯ an primarily as external spirits that haunt them. In both cases, the spirits are attributed control

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

197

Table 10.1 Patients’ attribution of phenomena to spirits Shukria

Aya

Ahmad

A jinn¯ı attacks her at night • Causes paralysis and muteness during attack The jinn¯ı also causes: • Marital discord • Chronic headaches • Recurrent night-mares Suicidal thoughts stemming from shayt.¯ an (wasw¯ as)

A shayt.¯ an raping her at night • Causes paralysis and muteness during attack Follows her around during the day, felt by: • Breath on neck, hands on arms • Derogatory comments • Smell reminding Aya of her uncle

A jinn¯ı attacks him at night • Causes paralysis and muteness during attack Possessed by jinn¯ı since age 20. The jinn¯ı exerts control by: • Commanding comments • Creating images of hell • Changing objects in front of him, e.g., wife to mother • Inserting sexual fantasies in his head • Controlling actions during physical assault • Attacking him at night

over the victims’ bodies by causing them paralysis and muteness during the nightly attacks. In Shukria’s case, the jinn¯ı is additionally seen as the cause of her marital discord, chronic headaches, and recurrent nightmares. In Aya’s case, the shayt.¯ an is seen solely as an external spirit during the day. Shukria and Aya conceptualize the spirit encounters as possession, but would their experiences be understood as possession from an anthropological and psychiatric perspective? During the spirit encounters, which Shukria and Aya interpret as possession, neither of their identities is replaced by a possessing identity, thus neither case is captured by Cohen’s concept of executive possession. However, the two cases can potentially be captured by Cohen’s concept of pathogenic possession, in which the spirit is seen as the cause of distress, e.g., their transitory paralysis and muteness. In Shukria’s case, the jinn¯ı is additionally seen as causing more persistent distress in the form of both relational problems and psychological symptoms, so Shukria’s experiences are in clear congruence with Cohen’s conception of pathogenic possession as a causal attribution. In Aya’s case, the shayt.¯ an is primarily a haunting external spirit rather than a cause of affliction, aside from the transient paralysis and muteness. Thus, it is not certain whether Aya’s experiences would be covered by Cohen’s conception, since the spirit

198

M. GALSGAARD

does not seem to influence Aya through continuous illness or adversity, but more through its mere presence. Cohen’s conception of pathogenic possession through contamination can mediate the bridge between external, non-transgressing spirits and internal influence. Lim et al.’s statement that a mere (external) touch of a jinn¯ı can cause a wide range of (internal) afflictions, e.g., depression and anxiety, connects to Cohen’s metaphor of pathogenic contamination through physical contact—mere touch—between spirit and human (Lim et al. 2015, 21). In a study by van Duijl, Kleijn, and de Jong on spirit possessions in Uganda, only 24% of spirit-possessed patients reported symptoms of identity replacement, while the majority experienced the possession as an external source of control: “…as if the spirits are around and influencing the patient from outside” (Duijl et al. 2013, 1421, 1428). Cohen’s classification of pathogenic possession seems able to capture the experience of being influenced by the spirit even though the patient’s identity is still intact. Neither Aya’s nor Shukria’s experiences would be classified as possessions in ICD-11 (or ICD-10), and DSM 5 adduces the arguments that the experiences would not be classified as executive possession. Further, neither appears to be in a trance state or suffer from gaps in their memories of the encounters. The conceptualization of possession in DSM-5 and ICD-11 does not capture these forms of encounters with jinn. Instead, in a psychiatric setting, the phenomena attributed to jinn would be interpreted using other psychiatric concepts—sleep paralysis with incubus phenomenon and psychotic trauma-related hallucinations—while the patients’ jinn beliefs would be disregarded.

Sleep Paralysis with Incubus Phenomenon In all three cases, the patients report waking up paralyzed, while simultaneously seeing and feeling a being on top of them during the night. As presented earlier, Western psychiatry conceptualizes this nightmare phenomenon as sleep paralysis (SP) with incubus phenomenon (Molendijk et al. 2017, 2; Cheyne et al. 1999, 325). Shukria and Ahmad understand the phenomena they experience at night as an attack from a malevolent jinn¯ı. Folklore regarding jinn attacks occurring at night is widespread, and in Islam, dreams are interpreted as a gateway to the unseen world (Jalal et al. 2014, 163). In addition, being paralyzed and muted are phenomena often attributed to jinn possession and spirit

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

199

possession in general (Lim et al. 2015, 23; Cohen 2008, 105). In a study by Jalal et al., the majority (90%) of subjects attributing their SP to a jinn attack were confirmed in their attribution by their community and imams (Jalal et al. 2014, 163, 167). Shukria’s and Ahmad’s interpretation of this nocturnal phenomenon is in line with the notion of the spirit world in their cultural community. In Aya’s case, the content of her hypnopompic hallucinations appears closely linked to her trauma experiences (the feeling of being tied, the sound of keys, the rape). Studies have shown a high correlation between childhood sexual abuse (CSA) and SP with incubus phenomenon (McNally and Clancy 2005, 598; Denis et al. 2018, 145– 146). Aya’s experience could suggest that hypnagogic and hypnopompic hallucinations during SP are formed not only by her cultural frame, but also by traumatic experiences.

Childhood Sexual Abuse and Hallucination During the day, Aya experiences the presence of a creature behind her. She does not see it, but smells, feels, and hears it. In a clinical setting, Aya’s daytime experiences could be assessed as typical olfactory, tactile, and auditory hallucinations, since the hallucinations do not occur in connection with SP. One could argue that Aya’s hallucinations are trauma-related based on their content (the voice and smell of her uncle, derogatory commentary) and early onset (simultaneous with traumas). Studies have shown a high correlation between particularly tactile and olfactory hallucinations and childhood sexual abuse (CSA) (Read et al. 2003, 9). Read et al. have further shown a high correlation between CSA and the ascription of the hallucinations to an evil archetype like shayt.¯ an and Iblis in Islam (Read et al. 2003, 337). The specific archetype depends on the person’s cultural context, e.g., a monster, alien, witch, Satan, Iblis. A high percentage (40%) of traumatized refugees at the Competence Center for Transcultural Psychiatry in Copenhagen suffers from psychotic symptoms concurrent with PTSD that cannot be covered by flashbacks (Nygaard et al. 2017, 1). Currently, there is no diagnosis in ICD-10, ICD-11, or DSM-5 of psychotic symptoms coupled to PTSD, though several researchers have argued for such a diagnosis (Compean and Hamner 2019, 273–274; Norredam et al. 2011, 5). To conclude, Shukria and Aya’s experiences can be classified as pathogenic possession from an anthropological perspective. From a psychiatric perspective, neither Shukria’s nor Aya’s experiences fulfills

200

M. GALSGAARD

the criteria for possession states in ICD-11 and DSM-5. The psychiatric perspective would disregard Shukria’s and Aya’s explanatory models and instead assess the phenomena as underlying non-pathological SP with incubus phenomenon and as psychotic symptoms.

Executive Possession, Possession States, and Paranoid Schizophrenia Ahmad’s jinn encounters have some similarities to Aya’s and Shukria’s, but are in several respects qualitatively different. While, like Aya and Shukria, Ahmad experiences nocturnal spirit attacks, the jinn¯ı exerts comparatively more control over his mind and body during the day than in Aya’s and Shukria’s cases. The jinn¯ı inserts sexual fantasies into Ahmad’s head, commands him to act in specific ways, and creates visual imagery of hell, among other things (see Table 10.1). During the physical assault, the jinn¯ı exerts complete control over Ahmad’s mind, body, and actions. In Cohen’s typology, Ahmad’s jinn possession would be classified as an executive possession, since the jinn¯ı controls Ahmad’s mind and actions during the assault—Ahmad becomes the host of the jinn¯ı’s identity. Furthermore, Ahmad’s religious community appears to interpret his experiences as a jinn possession. The spiritual healer’s attempt at ruqya on Ahmad at his mosque and the Arabic translator’s fear of becoming possessed by Ahmad’s jinn¯ı indicate that Ahmad’s explanatory model of jinn possession is in congruence with jinn beliefs in his religious community. One could speculate whether the notion of jinn transference has some similarities to the concept of pathogenic possessions through the idea of contamination and transmission (e.g., like a virus). It appears that Ahmad implies that the transference can happen by the mere presence and discussion of the jinn¯ı. From a psychiatric perspective, Ahmad’s possession during the physical assault is the experience most similar to the conceptualization of possession states in ICD-11 (PTD) and DSM-5 (DID), which includes an identity replacement —in PTD coupled with a trance state and in DID coupled with memory gaps. Ahmad describes his mind and actions as controlled by the malevolent jinn¯ı during the physical assault. Ahmad feels like this possessing jinn¯ı has replaced his identity and intentional agency, though he is still present as a passive observer. In addition, Ahmad experiences memory loss of the event, manifested by big gaps in his recall

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

201

of the situation. Ahmad hereby fulfills the criteria for DID. In relation to the trance criteria in PTD, Ahmad seems to be in a state of altered consciousness that could be described as a dissociative trance encompassing a sensation of being in a dream (termed “derealization”), observing oneself from the outside (termed “depersonalization”), memory loss, and “going blank”. Following the incident, the medical doctor at the CTP diagnosed Ahmad with paranoid schizophrenia and interpreted his experiences as an expression of psychosis, rather than possession state. The diagnosis paranoid schizophrenia is given instead of PTD or DID, based on the following criteria: family history, age of onset of the psychotic symptoms, lack of connection to traumatic experience, and presence of a broad range of psychotic symptoms. Table 10.2 presents an overview of the analytical findings of the three cases. There are several characteristics in Ahmad’s symptomology and developmental psychopathology that point to paranoid schizophrenia. First, schizophrenia has a high genetic heritability (79%) and Ahmad has a family history of psychosis—his father and two brothers also suffer from psychotic symptoms (Hilker et al. 2018, 492). Second, Ahmad’s psychotic symptoms first appeared at the age of 20. The typical age of onset for schizophrenia is from the end of the teenage years to the early twenties, while DID and PTD often occur in relation to childhood trauma or severe social stressors (Nolen-Hoeksema 2007, 377; Gogtay et al. 2011, 504). In contrast to Aya’s hallucinations, Ahmad’s did not first appear in Table 10.2 Anthropological and psychiatric findings Shukria

Aya

Ahmad

PTSD (recurrent nightmares, chronic headaches, marital discord due to heightened arousal) SP with incubus phenomenon Does not fulfill criteria for PTD or DID

PTSD Psychotic hallucinations (olfactoy, tactile, auditory)

Paranoid schizophrenia with comorbid PTSD

SP with incubus phenomenon Does not fulfill criteria for PTD or DID

SP with incubus phenomenon Does not fulfill criteria for PTD and DID, but symptoms are interpreted as Paranoid schizophrenia

202

M. GALSGAARD

relation to traumas, and the content of the hallucinations does not seem trauma-related. Hallucinations and delusions are cardinal symptoms of schizophrenia – the commanding voice is interpreted as second person auditory hallucinations and the sensations of insects under his skin as tactile hallucinations . The visual scenarios of hell and the objects changing form in front of him (e.g., his wife changing to his mother) are interpreted as visual hallucinations. Ahmad’s understanding of the hallucinations as being caused by a malevolent jinn¯ı is interpreted as an accompanying delusion. When Ahmad says that the jinn¯ı controls his actions, this is interpreted as a delusion of influence, which is a belief that thoughts, actions, or emotions are caused by external influence, e.g., by magic or hypnosis.10 When Ahmad states that the jinn¯ı places sexual fantasies in his head, this is interpreted as thought insertion, which is a delusion that someone or something has placed thoughts in your head. Thought insertion is a cardinal symptom of schizophrenia, and if it is present for more than a month, the patient can be diagnosed with schizophrenia based solely on that symptom (WHO 2015, F20). Several of the hallucinatory or delusional symptoms during the physical assault could also be understood as signs of possession state, but from a psychiatric perspective the somewhat constant presence of auditory, visual, and tactile hallucinations further underlines the psychotic character of Ahmad’s distress, whereas possession states are more transient. In Ahmad’s case, the divergence between the anthropological and the psychiatric conceptualization of the phenomena is profound. Both Cohen’s term “executive possession” and the response from Ahmad’s religious community identify Ahmad’s symptoms as a jinn possession. In a psychiatric setting, Ahmad would be diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia instead of PTD or DID.

Culture-Specific Narratives Getting Lost in the Psychiatric Maze Cultural sensitivity and knowledge can enable a good alliance with patients who have an ethnic-minority background and can prevent misdiagnosis due to culturally related misunderstandings. While Shukria was at the CTP, she was admitted to an inpatient psychiatric hospital for a couple of days due to suicidal thoughts. The hospital’s medical doctor who assessed her symptoms suspected psychosis.

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

203

First, Shukria told the medical doctor that shayt.¯ an gave her suicidal thoughts and tried to lure her into doing sinful things, which the medical doctor interpreted as an expression of thought insertion and delusion of influence, as mentioned also in Ahmad’s case. At the CTP, Shukria’s formulations were understood as a cultural idiom, rather than an expression of psychosis. For Shukria and many other Muslim patients, ascribing negative or sinful thoughts to shayt.¯ an (termed wasw¯ as, shayt.¯ an’s whisper11 ) is a cultural way of expressing distress and distancing oneself from the negative thoughts. In contrast to Western societies, in which people often identify strongly with their thoughts, positive or negative, the ascription of thoughts to shayt.¯ an can create a reflective distance to the thoughts and thereby make it easier not to act in accordance with them. Shayt.¯ an can be understood as a destructive impulse every human possesses, and it is his or her responsibility to avoid acting in accordance with the impulse. The act of suicide is considered a grave sin in Islam, and suicide is condemned especially in the Hadiths (Rosenthal 1946, 243). Shukria often used shayt.¯ an as a metaphor in therapy when talking about her negative thoughts, and her mode of expression is in line with her religious community’s explanatory model for negative thoughts. Second, the psychiatric hospital’s medical doctor interpreted Shukria’s experience with the being sitting on top of her when she slept as visual and tactile hallucinations. Additionally, her explanation of the phenomenon that a malevolent jinn¯ı had possessed her was interpreted as an accompanying delusion coupled to the hallucinations. In contrast, the medical doctor at the CTP did not find Shukria psychotic. Unlike Ahmad and Aya, she suffered only from hallucinations (hypnopompic) in relation to her SP. Here, the lack of awareness of SP with incubus phenomenon in Western psychiatry can have negative implications for patients, who can be misinterpreted as psychotic. As mentioned earlier, Shukria’s interpretation of SP with incubus phenomenon as a jinn attack is a widespread and culturally legitimate interpretation, so her understanding cannot automatically be deemed delusional. To conclude, cultural knowledge enhances the assessment of Shukria’s symptoms and, unlike Aya and Ahmad, she is not considered psychotic. Her case illuminates the perils of not including cultural knowledge in the assessment of the patient’s symptoms, which can lead to misdiagnosis and inadequate treatment. The three cases suggest that the field of jinn possession covers a vast and complex set of phenomena and

204

M. GALSGAARD

symptoms. The diagnostic findings in the cases might indicate that psychiatry should view jinn possessions as covering a heterogeneous field of psychopathology and normal phenomena (Hecker et al. 2015). This could potentially be an argument for understanding jinn possessions as an idiom of distress with vast expression possibilities for the individuals, sometimes overlapping with severe psychopathology, sometimes overlapping with non-pathological phenomena. However, it is important to bear in mind that only three cases are presented in this article, so the findings must be interpreted with caution.

Discussion of the Findings This section discusses the pitfalls of failing to include either a cultural perspective, on the one hand, or a psychiatric perspective, on the other, in the assessment of patient’s attribution of symptoms to jinn.

Limitations of the Psychiatric Perspective The findings in these cases demonstrate that an anthropological perspective on spirit possessions is able to grasp more phenomena attributed to jinn possession than a psychiatric perspective is. Cohen’s conception of pathogenic possession captures a variety of phenomena attributed to jinn that the diagnostic conceptualization of possession does not cover. Possession states in DSM-5 and ICD-11 are rigorously limited to what Cohen refers to as executive possession, coupled with either memory gaps or trance. The phenomena attributed to pathogenic possession are covered by other non-culture-specific concepts like SP and hallucinations, while the explanatory models of the patients are disregarded. Cohen’s concept of pathogenic possession captures a way of attributing the cause of symptoms to spirits, which is very widespread and cultural acceptable. Pathogenic possession offers the clinician an understanding of a common attribution style in patients from other cultures. Cultural variation is granted more significance in later versions of ICD and DSM, e.g., through DSM-5’s Cultural Formulation Interview and the inclusion of concepts like cultural idioms of distress. Concurrently, the manuals still seem to offer limited language to assist clinicians in general psychiatry to recognize widespread cultural idioms, which can become crucial for differentiating between expressions of underlying psychosis and non-pathology. The diagnostic assessment of Shukria’s symptoms as

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

205

psychotic during her hospitalization illustrates the risk of misdiagnosis and thus inadequate treatment for Muslim patients in mental health facilities where cultural knowledge is not emphasized. Culturally sensitive assessment is challenging when there is not even rudimentary cultural knowledge; this places a high degree of responsibility for attaining cultural knowledge on the individual clinician working in general psychiatry. One can argue that it is important that mental health services specialized in cultural psychiatry offer education in cultural competencies and cultural humility to clinicians working in general psychiatry in order to enhance diagnostic assessment and adequate treatment for patients with an ethnic-minority background. One particularly noteworthy concept for clinicians treating Muslim patients is al-ghayb, the unseen world. Where Islam offers space for an unseen spirit world, al-ghayb, and metaphysical explanations of the world, the biomedical diagnostic system is based on material or physical realism and natural science. The findings in cases accentuate a conflict of interpretations based not only on misunderstanding, but also on divergent ontological positions. In the psychiatric diagnostic manuals ICD-11 and DSM-5, psychosis is characterized by deficient reality testing, resulting in delusions or seeing, hearing, or sensing things that are not there. What “reality” consists of, e.g., the possibility of an unseen spirit world, is determined by the person’s cultural background and worldview. Whereas black magic, spirit possession, and the evil eye exist in Islam, mental health professionals unfamiliar with these concepts easily misinterpret them as delusions. In some Islamic communities, folk tales of people seeing jinn are fairly widespread and accepted, but in a psychiatric setting, they would be interpreted as hallucinations. The mismatch in explanatory models can lead to misunderstandings due to fundamental differences in ontological vantage points. The findings in the cases highlight that the diagnostic manuals are based on a secular, scientific worldview that offers little room for religious beliefs in unseen worlds. A clinician’s awareness of the existence of other worldviews and his or her own cultural position can strengthen his or her relationship with the patient, besides enabling a more exact diagnosis. The intercultural encounter can further illuminate other limitations of using the psychiatric perspective on patients from other cultures. The earlier versions of the main diagnostic manuals ICD-10 and DSMIV have been criticized for using the concepts culture-specific disorders and culture-bound syndromes, which referred to psychiatric syndromes

206

M. GALSGAARD

present only in a specific culture. Nevertheless, neither manual used the notion of culture-specific psychopathology in reference to Western societies (Kirmayer 2013, 56:16). When culture was mentioned in ICD10 or DSM-IV, it was criticized for referring solely to non-Western culture, while Western culture was left invisible and unnoticed. DSM-5 has responded to much of this critique. ICD-11’s appendix on what will be termed culture-specific features has yet to come out. Even though the diagnostic manuals have made immense and important steps toward a more culturally inclusive approach, there are still features of the Westernbased origin of the manuals. The pioneer researcher in cultural psychiatry Laurence Kirmayer has highlighted that DID (formerly Multiple Personality Disorder) was seldom found outside Western societies before the inclusion of possession states in the diagnosis (Kirmayer 2013, 58:28– 59:40). Kirmayer plays with the idea that, from a cultural perspective, DID could be understood as a Western-bound version of spirit possession: in an individualistic, secular society, subjects do not become occupied by spirits or gods, but instead by dissociated parts of themselves. From this radical perspective, spirit possession is as much a variation of DID, as DID is an individualistic, secular variation of spirit possessions. From this perspective, the conceptualization of psychopathology is never free from or above culture, but is always interwoven in cultural norms, discourses, and history. This perspective can illuminate, e.g., how the prevalence of a Western-related disorder like anorexia nervosa is highly dependent on cultural norms of body image, gender, and self-governance. A look at other cultures enables us to recognize our own.

Limitations of the Cultural Perspective It is not solely the psychiatric perspective that benefits from encompassing a cultural perspective. An exclusively cultural perspective on distress can also be challenging if it is not combined with a psychiatric perspective. The findings in our cases suggest that it is perilous to understand a patient’s attribution of symptoms to jinn solely as a local idiom of distress without assessing the symptoms from a psychiatric perspective. From a psychiatric perspective, what might be interpreted in Cohen’s terminology as either executive or pathogenic possession covers a wide variety of psychopathology. Interpreting beliefs in jinn possession exclusively in terms of an idiom of distress can lead to disregarding severe psychopathology. Jinn beliefs offer a language and a treatment for a range

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

207

of symptoms in countries where psychiatric understandings and treatment are often limited. It may seem puzzling how such a wide variety of adversities, among them marital discord, chronic headache, and hallucinations attributed to jinn influence and possession, all seem to need the same cure, ruqya. In a psychiatric setting, the three cases would be interpreted as expressions of fundamentally different underlying psychopathology and require qualitatively different psychiatric treatment, both medically and therapeutically. Ahmad had gone to his mosque and received ruqya based on phenomena that a psychiatrist would consider cardinal symptoms of paranoid schizophrenia. Based on Ahmad’s belief that the symptoms were caused by jinn possession, he did not disclose the symptoms to his medical doctor, leaving the severe psychopathology without psychiatric treatment. In some cases, imams and spiritual healers will encounter and make the initial screening of people with severe psychopathology before psychiatric treatment is sought. This emphasizes how important it is for spiritual healers to have fundamental psychopathological knowledge and a high willingness to refer persons to psychiatric treatment when uncertain. It could be beneficial to offer education in psychopathology to spiritual healers to upgrade their screening process. In Ahmad’s case, the untreated paranoid schizophrenia led to detrimental, and perhaps avoidable, consequences for Ahmad, the police officer, and the taxi driver. These developments suggest how important it is for spiritual healers and imams to encourage patients like Ahmad to seek psychiatric treatment and to disclose all their afflictions, including those attributed to jinn possession. In addition, idioms of distress are never solely innocent descriptions, but can place responsibility for the distress by providing its possible cause, e.g., not following Quran scripture properly or acting sinfully. Aya’s hallucinations of shayt.¯ an appear to be related to her childhood sexual abuse. Attributing Aya’s experiences to a shayt.¯ an could amplify her feelings of shame and sinfulness, feelings often present in victims of CSA. Beliefs in spirits can possibly place responsibility for the symptoms of CSA on the victims and inhibit focusing on the CSA they have suffered. The relation between Aya’s underlying trauma of childhood sexual abuse and her experiences with shayt.¯ an could go unnoticed and unacknowledged in a religious or an anthropological perspective. Furthermore, attributing distress to the evil eye or black magic caused by members of the community can potentially increase social distrust and hostile feelings in the

208

M. GALSGAARD

community. This can further exacerbate a schizophrenic disorder with paranoia, which is the psychiatric disorder most often attributed to jinn.

Conclusion Three cases were analyzed to explore the benefits of incorporating a cultural and a psychiatric perspective when treating Muslim patients who believe in jinn within Western mental health services. The study showed that jinn beliefs cover a vast range of symptoms, some nonpathological and other expressions of severe psychopathology. Anthropological and cultural perspectives are not able to detect when symptoms are psychopathological, which demonstrates that the psychiatric perspective is indispensable. Therefore, providing information about mental health and possibilities for psychiatric treatment to key persons, e.g., imams and spiritual healers, is crucial to avoid delays in treatment. The study further demonstrated that the main psychiatric diagnostic manuals are somewhat Western-based, and a cultural perspective is therefore often necessary when working with patients from non-Western cultures. To optimize the diagnostic assessment and treatment of Muslim patients and prevent misdiagnosis and inadequate treatment, clinicians in psychiatric institutions should have greater awareness and better understanding of jinn beliefs. The intercultural encounter between jinn beliefs and Western psychiatry is an under-researched field. Further studies could explore questions like: how do imams and spiritual healers screen distress attributed to jinn beliefs—whom do they perceive as patients suited for religious healing and whom do they refer to mental health facilities? And how do Muslim psychiatric patients with jinn beliefs navigate between and perhaps integrate a religious and a psychiatric perspective on and healing of their distress? More research can potentially enhance the treatment of Muslim patients with jinn beliefs.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4.

Q Q Q Q

15:26–27; 55:15, translation by Abdel Haleem. 72:14, translation by Abdel Haleem. 2:177, translation by Abdel Haleem. 2:255, translation by Abdel Haleem.

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

209

5. World Health Organization, International Statistical Classification of Diseases and Related Health Problems, 11th ed., “Possession trance disorder”. 6. American Psychiatric Association, Diagnostic And Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders: DSM -5, 5th ed. “Dissociative disorders”. 7. World Health Organization, International Statistical Classification of Diseases and Related Health Problems, 11th ed., “Possession trance disorder”. 8. American Psychiatric Association, Diagnostic And Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders : DSM -5, “Dissociative Identity Disorder”. 9. World Health Organization, International Statistical Classification of Diseases and Related Health Problems, 10th ed. (ICD-10), “Possession trance disorder”. 10. VandenBos, APA Dictionary of Psychology, “Delusion of influence”. 11. Q 20:120, translation by Abdel Haleem.

Bibliography Abdel Haleem, Muhammad A. The Qur’an: A New Translation. Oxford: University Press, 2008. Adler, Shelley R. Sleep Paralysis: Night-Mares, Nocebos, and the Mind-Body Connection. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 2011. Al-Ashqar, Umar S. The World of the Jinn and Devils in the Light of the Qur’an and Sunnah, Riyadh: International Islamic Publishing House, 2003. American Psychiatric Association (APA). Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders: DSM-5. Arlington: American Psychiatric Publishing, 2013. Bodman, Whitney S. “Stalking Iblis: In Search of an Islamic Theodicy.” In Myths, Historical Archetypes, and Symbolic Figures in Arabic Literature: Towards a New Hermeneutic Approach. Proceedings of the International Symposium in Beirut, June 25th–June 30, 1996, edited by Neuwirth, Angelika, Birgit Embaló, Sebastian Günther, and Maher Jarrar, 247–271. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1999. Bourguignon, Erika. “Suffering and Healing, Subordination and Power: Women and Possession Trance.” Ethos 32, no. 4 (2004): 557–574. https://doi.org/ 10.2307/3334950. Bourguignon, Erika. Religion, Altered States of Consciousness, and Social Change. Ohio: State University Press, 1973. Cheyne, J. Allan, Steve D. Rueffer, and Ian R. Newby-Clark. “Hypnagogic and Hypnopompic Hallucinations During Sleep Paralysis: Neurological and Cultural Construction of the Night-Mare.” Consciousness and Cognition 8, no. 3 (September 1999): 319–337. https://doi.org/10.1006/ccog.1999.0404.

210

M. GALSGAARD

Cohen, Emma. “What Is Spirit Possession? Defining, Comparing, and Explaining Two Possession Forms.” Ethnos 73, no. 1 (March 2008): 101–126. https:// doi.org/10.1080/00141840801927558. Compean, Ebele, and Mark Hamner. “Posttraumatic Stress Disorder with Secondary Psychotic Features (PTSD-SP): Diagnostic and Treatment Challenges.” Progress in Neuro-Psychopharmacology and Biological Psychiatry 88 (January 2019): 265–275. https://doi.org/10.1016/J.PNPBP.2018.08.001. Cox, Ann M. “Sleep Paralysis and Folklore.” Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine Open 6, no. 7 (July 2015): 1–4. https://doi.org/10.1177/205427 0415598091. Davies, Owen. “The Nightmare Experience, Sleep Paralysis, and Witchcraft Accusations.” Folklore 114, no. 2 (January 2003): 181–203. https://doi.org/10. 1080/0015587032000104211. Dein, Simon, and Abdool Samad Illaiee. “Jinn and Mental Health: Looking at Jinn Possession in Modern Psychiatric Practice.” The Psychiatrist 37, no. 9 (September 2013): 290–293. https://doi.org/10.1192/pb.bp.113.042721. Denis, Dan, Christopher C. French, and Alice M. Gregory. “A Systematic Review of Variables Associated with Sleep Paralysis.” Sleep Medicine Reviews 38 (April 2018): 141–157. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.smrv.2017.05.005. Duijl, Marjolein van, Wim Kleijn, and Joop de Jong. “Are Symptoms of Spirit Possessed Patients Covered by the DSM-IV or DSM-5 Criteria for Possession Trance Disorder? A Mixed-Method Explorative Study in Uganda.” Social Psychiatry and Psychiatric Epidemiology 48, no. 9 (September 2013): 1417–1430. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00127-012-0635-1. El-Zein, Amira. Islam, Arabs, and the Intelligent World of the Jinn. Syracuse: University Press, 2009. Fahd, T., and Andrew Rippin. “Shaytan.” In Encyclopaedia of Islam, Second Edition, edited by P. Bearman, T. Bianquis, C. E. Bosworth, E. van Donzel, and W. P. Heinrichs. Leiden: Brill, 2012. Gogtay, Nitin, Nora S. Vyas, Renee Testa, Stephen J. Wood, and Christos Pantelis. “Age of Onset of Schizophrenia: Perspectives From Structural Neuroimaging Studies.” Schizophrenia Bulletin 37, no. 3 (May 2011): 504–513. https://doi.org/10.1093/schbul/sbr030. Hecker, Tobias, Lars Braitmayer, and Marjolein van Duijl. “Global Mental Health and Trauma Exposure: The Current Evidence for the Relationship Between Traumatic Experiences and Spirit Possession.” European Journal of Psychotraumatology 6, no. 1 (December 2015): 1–12. https://doi.org/10.3402/ejpt. v6.29126. Hilker, Rikke, Dorte Helenius, Birgitte Fagerlund, Axel Skytthe, Kaare Christensen, Thomas M. Werge, Merete Nordentoft, and Birte Glenthøj. “Heritability of Schizophrenia and Schizophrenia Spectrum Based on the Nationwide Danish Twin Register.” Biological Psychiatry 83, no. 6 (March 2018): 492–498. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biopsych.2017.08.017.

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

211

Hinton, Devon E., and Roberto Lewis-Fernández. “Idioms of Distress Among Trauma Survivors: Subtypes and Clinical Utility.” Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry 34, no. 2 (June 2010): 209–218. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11 013-010-9175-x. Hinton, Devon E., Vuth Pich, Dara Chhean, Mark H. Pollack, and Richard J. McNally. “Sleep Paralysis Among Cambodian Refugees: Association with PTSD Diagnosis and Severity.” Depression and Anxiety 22, no. 2 (2005): 47–51. https://doi.org/10.1002/da.20084. Hobson, J. Allen, Robert Stickgold, and Edward F. Pace-Schott. “The Neuropsychology of REM Sleep Dreaming.” Neuroreport 9, no. 3 (February 1998): R1–14. Jalal, Baland, and Devon E. Hinton. “Rates and Characteristics of Sleep Paralysis in the General Population of Denmark and Egypt.” Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry 37, no. 3 (September 2013): 534–548. https://doi.org/10.1007/ s11013-013-9327-x. Jalal, Baland, Joseph Simons-Rudolph, Bamo Jalal, and Devon E. Hinton. “Explanations of Sleep Paralysis Among Egyptian College Students and the General Population in Egypt and Denmark.” Transcultural Psychiatry 51, no. 2 (April 2014): 158–175. https://doi.org/10.1177/1363461513503378. Khalifa, Najat, Tim Hardie, Shahid Latif, Imran Jamil, and Dawn-Marie Walker. “Beliefs about Jinn, Black Magic and the Evil Eye Among Muslims: Age, Gender and First Language Influences.” International Journal of Culture and Mental Health 4, no. 1 (June 2011): 68–77. Kirmayer, Laurence, lecture on “Cultural Psychiatry: Lecture #1 Cultural Psychiatry: A Critical Introduction Pt 1.” McGill Transcultural Psychiatry. YouTube Video, posted on April 10, 2013. Retrieved from: https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=rcM7ZmyuIbs, last accessed 18 June 2019. Krawietz, Birgit. “Islamic Conceptions of the Evil Eye.” Medicine and Law 21, no. 2 (2002): 339–355. Lim, Anastasia, Hans W. Hoek, and Jan Dirk Blom. “The Attribution of Psychotic Symptoms to Jinn in Islamic Patients.” Transcultural Psychiatry 52, no. 1 (February 2015): 18–32. https://doi.org/10.1177/136346151 4543146. McNally, Richard J., and Susan A. Clancy. “Sleep Paralysis in Adults Reporting Repressed, Recovered, or Continuous Memories of Childhood Sexual Abuse.” Journal of Anxiety Disorders 19, no. 5 (January 2005): 595–602. https://doi. org/10.1016/j.janxdis.2004.05.003. Meftah, Jilani ben Touhami. “Jinn and Its Effects on Muslim Society.” Global Journal of Archaeology & Anthropology. 6, no. 4 (September 2018): 1–3. https://juniperpublishers.com/gjaa/pdf/GJAA.MS.ID.555694.pdf. Molendijk, Marc L., Harriët Montagne, Ouarda Bouachmir, Zeynep Alper, Jan-Pieter Bervoets, and Jan Dirk Blom. “Prevalence Rates of the Incubus

212

M. GALSGAARD

Phenomenon: A Systematic Review and Meta-Analysis.” Frontiers in Psychiatry 8 (November 2017): 1–8. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyt.2017.00253. Mullick, Mohammad S. I., Najat Khalifa, Jhunu S. Nahar, and Dawn-Marie Walker. “Beliefs about Jinn, Black Magic and Evil Eye in Bangladesh: The Effects of Gender and Level of Education.” Mental Health, Religion & Culture 16, no. 7 (September 2013): 719–729. https://doi.org/10.1080/ 13674676.2012.717918. Nichter, Mark. “Idioms of Distress: Alternatives in the Expression of Psychosocial Distress: A Case Study from South India.” Culture, Medicine and Psychiatry 5, no. 4 (December 1981): 379–408. http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/ 7326955. Nolen-Hoeksema, Susan. Abnormal Psychology. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2007. Norredam, Marie, Mette Jensen, and Morten Ekstrøm. “Psychotic Symptoms in Refugees Diagnosed with PTSD: A Series of Case Reports.” Nordic Journal of Psychiatry 65, no. 4 (September 2011): 283–288. https://doi.org/10.3109/ 08039488.2010.533385. Nygaard, Mette, Charlotte Sonne, and Jessica Carlsson. “Secondary Psychotic Features in Refugees Diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder: A Retrospective Cohort Study.” BMC Psychiatry 17, no. 1 (December 2017): 1–11. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12888-016-1166-1. PEW Research Center. “The World’s Muslims: Unity and Diversity.” Washington, DC, 2012. Retrieved from: http://www.pewforum.org/2012/08/ 09/the-worlds-muslims-unity-and-diversity-4-other-beliefs-and-practices/, last accessed 22 June 2019. Read, John, Jim van Os, Anthony P. Morrison, and Colin A. Ross. “Childhood Trauma, Psychosis and Schizophrenia: A Literature Review with Theoretical and Clinical Implications.” Acta Psychiatrica Scandinavica 112, no. 5 (November 2005): 330–350. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1600-0447.2005. 00634.x. Read, John, Kirsty Agar, Nick Argyle, and Volkmar Aderhold. “Sexual and Physical Abuse during Childhood and Adulthood as Predictors of Hallucinations, Delusions and Thought Disorder.” Psychology and Psychotherapy: Theory, Research and Practice 76, no. 1 (March 2003): 1–22. https://doi.org/10. 1348/14760830260569210. Rosenthal, Franz. “On Suicide in Islam.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 66, no. 3 (July 1946): 239–259. https://doi.org/10.2307/595571. Sharpless, Brian A., and Karl Doghramji. Sleep Paralysis: Historical, Psychological, and Medical Perspectives. Oxford: University Press, 2015. Sharpless, Brian A. “A Clinician’s Guide to Recurrent Isolated Sleep Paralysis.” Neuropsychiatric Disease and Treatment 12 (2016): 1761–1767. https://doi. org/10.2147/NDT.S100307.

10

JINN BELIEFS IN WESTERN PSYCHIATRY …

213

Turrini, Giulia, Marianna Purgato, Francesca Ballette, Michela Nosè, Giovanni Ostuzzi, and Corrado Barbui. “Common Mental Disorders in Asylum Seekers and Refugees: Umbrella Review of Prevalence and Intervention Studies.” International Journal of Mental Health Systems 11 (2017): 51. https://doi. org/10.1186/s13033-017-0156-0. VandenBos, Gary R., and American Psychological Association (APA). APA Dictionary of Psychology. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association, 2015. https://doi.org/10.1037/14646-000. Wing, Yun-Kwok, Helen Chiu, Tony Leung, and Jana Ng. “Sleep Paralysis in the Elderly.” Journal of Sleep Research 8, no. 2 (June 1999): 151–155. https:// doi.org/10.1046/j.1365-2869.1999.00143.x. World Health Organization (WHO). International Classification of Diseases, (ICD-11), 11th ed. Geneva: World Health Organization, 2018. Retrieved from: https://icd.who.int/en, last accessed 22 June 2019. World Health Organization (WHO). International Statistical Classification of Diseases and Related Health Problems (ICD-10), 10th ed. Geneva: World Health Organization, 2015. Retrieved from: https://www.who.int/classific ations/icd/icdonlineversions/en/, last accessed 22 June 2019.

CHAPTER 11

Jinn Among Muslim Captives in Guantanamo and the “Global War on Terrorism” Annabelle Böttcher

Introduction It is not surprising that jinn made their way into Guantanamo Bay Detention Facility (GTMO) in Cuba during President George W. Bush’s “Global War on Terrorism”. When the hunt for al-Qa‘ida was unleashed after the attacks of September 11, 2001, those suspected of being members or sympathizers were arrested and channeled through a growing network of holding facilities. In this way, a total of 775 individuals “disappeared” while transferred on secret flights to third countries like Syria, Jordan, and Egypt to be interrogated and tortured (Physicians for Human Rights 2005, 99). In the end, some of them resurfaced in GTMO, where illegalities continued to be legally facilitated and systematically enacted (Comaroff 2007, 386–387). Having thus fallen through the grid of lofty assumptions about the civility of wars into the deep dungeons of the US detention gulag, captives

A. Böttcher (B) Syddansk Universitet, Center for Modern Middle East and Muslim Studies, Odense, Denmark e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4_11

215

216

A. BÖTTCHER

in GTMO struggled with jinn. Saar, a former military intelligence soldier, wrote that “most of the detainees believed in them” (Saar and Novak, 2005, 68). They were even “plagued by jinns” (Fink, 12 November 2016). This chapter looks at perceptions of jinn and (mental) health in GTMO in the context of the US “Global War on Terrorism” through the lens of US-censored sources. As will be shown, various Muslim and non-Muslim actors in GTMO are challenged by perceptions of jinn as liminal, non-human actors. Even though jinn are deeply rooted in mainstream Islam and could be considered a threat to the carceral edifice, US authorities seem to adapt rather well to the peculiarities of these uninvited creatures. Muslim captives, on the other hand, seem to feel terrorized by what they perceive as malevolent jinn allied with the US authorities.

The “Global War on Terrorism,” US Detention, and Torture Four weeks after the September 11, 2001 attacks on American soil, the Bush administration launched a global military campaign in Afghanistan, followed by the invasion of Iraq in March 2003, with the aim to uproot al-Qa‘ida. Mostly Muslim males were captured and subsequently sold or transferred to US detention (Amnesty International, 18 February 2009, 7; International Committee of the Red Cross, February 2007, 5–6). They were forced into global mobility patterns within the expanding US carceral network of the “Global War on Terrorism”. As early as February 2002, the US Presidential Military Order issued by President Bush exempted alleged members of al-Qa‘ida and the Taliban from qualifying for prisoner-of-war- status and relabeled them with the newly invented term “enemy combatants” (Honigsberg, 11 March 2014). This unilaterally stripped them from Article 3, common to the Four Geneva Conventions, prohibiting torture (Comaroff 2007, 389; Amnesty International, 18 February 2009, 9). Referring to Goffman’s “civil death,” when prison inmates face a temporary loss of their rights, this transition into this secret carceral geography and this relabeling represented a “legal death,” depriving captives of basic human rights for an undetermined period (Goffman 1961, 16). Some of these “enemy combatants” embarked on long journeys through secret holding and torture sites within the CIA detention gulag, the “Black Sites,” as they were dubbed, with the aim of keeping them from being detected, visited, or registered by the International

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

217

Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) (International Committee of the Red Cross, February 2007, 23). A leaked report by the ICRC dated February 2007 revealed cases held up to four and half years in undisclosed detention and prolonged solitary confinement without their families having any news about their whereabouts (International Committee of the Red Cross, February 2007, 3, 7). Their disappearance turned them into “ghost detainees”. Captives, interrogators, and other US officials were secretly transferred on civilian aircraft operated on behalf of the CIA between holding facilities and “Black Sites” located throughout the world, without public acknowledgment and entailing multiple violations of international law (Connell et al. 2017, 62). Since 2002, details of 11,006 flights linked to the CIA’s rendition program have become known (Cobain and Ball, 22 May 2013). Within this global carceral geography, Muslim captives were traded between state actors and non-state actors and were interrogated and tortured by the CIA and its state and non-state subsidiaries (Mayer, 14 February 2005). Foreign intelligence services also met some of them, like Sami al-Hajj,1 a Sudanese cameraman, who was visited by the British intelligence in GTMO (Alhaj 2018, 85). Declassified, redacted documents detail the CIA’s “Rendition, Detention and Interrogation” program. It centered on the use of what was described euphemistically as “enhanced interrogation techniques” (Department of Defense, Joint Task Force, Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, 11 October 2002). This catalog of sadistic techniques was implemented to induce a state of “learned helplessness” and dependence conducive to the collection of intelligence in a predictable, reliable, and sustainable manner (Connell et al. 2017, 64; Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, 3 December 2014, 11; Jens 2017, 63). This program intended to alter the long-term psychological makeup of the captives and relied on a mix of sensory overload and deprivation of all human stimuli. It included dietary manipulation, forced shaving, prolonged forced nudity, slapping the captive’s face and abdomen, kicking, banging the captives’ head against the wall, beating, cramped confinement in coffin-like boxes, standing against walls, prolonged stress positions, isolation, waterboarding, exposure to cold and hot temperature, exposure to loud music or white noise, exposure to constant light or total darkness, anal penetration, mock executions, deprivation of sleep, air, exercise, and hygiene facilities (Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, 3 December 2014, 56; International Committee of the Red Cross,

218

A. BÖTTCHER

February 2007, 9). Over the years, it was transferred and adapted in detention operations in Afghanistan, Iraq, and GTMO. There was also a widespread practice of forced nudity for male and female captives in the entire US detention system, thus forcing them to endure personal defacement (Goffman 1961, 20–23). According to reports by the ICRC from 2007, eleven “high-value detainees” in GTMO were subjected to extended periods of nudity, ranging from several weeks continuously up to several months intermittently in CIA-run detention facilities (Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, 3 December 2014, 4, 12; International Committee of the Red Cross, February 2007, 9). Abu Zubayda, a Palestinian arrested in Pakistan in 2002, was also kept naked during his initial interrogation in Thailand before ending up in GTMO (Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, 3 December 2014, 55). For Muslims, there are strict rules about covering the private parts of the human body, the so-called ‘aura. Men should be covered at least from the navel to the knee and females should be totally covered except for their hands and face. Special cover is demanded for prayer for both men and women. Other central elements of Muslim captives’ daily spiritual lives were targeted, such as preventing them from reading and reciting the Quran and from carrying out ritual washings, daily prayers, and fasting. According to a report on the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s (FBI) involvement in interrogations dated 2009, captives in GTMO were described as being particularly sensitive about the handling of the Quran during cell searches (US Department of Justice, October 2009, 83, 188). Slahi2 described in his memoirs, the “Guantanamo Diary,” the difficulties of doing ablution for prayers and of praying as well as the deliberate mishandlings of the Quran during interrogations and cell searches (Slahi 2015). In a memo dated 2004, an FBI agent noticed a captive whose head had been completely taped, “because he would not stop quoting the Koran” (Federal Bureau of Investigation, 15 September 2004). Moazzam Begg, a UK national who was abducted in January 2002 from Pakistan by US agents and taken to Bagram airbase detention facility in Afghanistan to be severely tortured, remembered, “this atmosphere of severe antipathy towards captives was the compounded use of racially and religiously prejudicial taunts” (Amnesty International, 18 February 2009, 8). Captives were also sexually humiliated by female interrogators ( Abd al-Q¯adir 1434/2013, 204–206; Fletcher 2014, 7; Harrington, 14 July 2004) and tortured by anal penetration, sometimes causing long-term damage (Connell et al. 2017, 73).

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

219

Jinn in the “Legal Black Hole” of Guantanamo Bay Detention Facility Since the “Global War on Terrorism,” GTMO has played an important role as a holding and torture facility. Comaroff called GTMO a “legal black hole” outside of any jurisdiction. The Americans do not have sovereignty, because they have rented it from the Cubans. Nor do the Cubans have legal jurisdiction, because it is a US military base” (Comaroff 2007, 396). It is a lawless zone, a “total institution” confining captives in a designed space with enforced mobility patterns, excluding them from information regarding their fate and cutting them off from the social support of their families (Goffman 1961, 4–5, 9, 11). Most of the approximately 800 captives at GTMO have come through Bagram and/or Kandahar airbase detention facility in Afghanistan since January 2002 (Alhaj 2018, 70, Amnesty International, 18 February 2009, 2). They were held in the barbed-wire-enclosed Camp X-Ray in small cages with chain-link sides, concrete floors, and metal roofs, offering scant shelter from the elements. GTMO is a symbol of the desperate effort of securitization after the US experienced the collapse of its “national security” based on organizing safety and well-being into distinct spheres of internal and external security. Security has become liminal, acknowledging the inevitable chaos of a world without lines (Mälksoo 2012, 485–486). GTMO is a central symbol of this liminality of securitization through which the Bush administration seemed to try to convince itself that it finally captured the unseen enemies of its “Global War on Terrorism” (Golden, 17 September 2006; Human Rights Watch, 26 October 2004, 5). US authorities tightly control access to GTMO, but ironically jinn (sg. masc. jinn¯ı, sg. fem. jinn¯ıya) have no material or spatial limitations and can access any part of GTMO at will. Belief in jinn is part of Islamic dogma, as they are mentioned in the Quran and the Sunna of the Prophet. In the Quran, jinn are described as creatures made from “the fire free of smoke” (55:15).3 Within the Islamic structure of the cosmos with the three basic realms, jinn belong to the imaginal or intermediate realm, which corresponds to the world of fire. The terrestrial or material realm corresponds to the world of clay, from which the human body was created and where we live, and the celestial realm is the world of light where the angels dwell. Above the celestial reigns the Divine (El-Zein 2009, 33).

220

A. BÖTTCHER

In Quran 46:29, Muslim jinn explain to their (apparently Jewish) companions how they converted and what Islam is (El-Zein 2009, 44). Jinn are intelligent creatures and bestowed with free will. Hence, they can be Muslim, Christian, Jewish, or unbelievers. They oscillate between good and evil, but they are susceptible to temptations by Satan’s deceiving whispers. Like humans, jinn will be made to account for their deeds on the Day of Judgment (Islam and Campbell 2014, 232–233). Generally, jinn are considered unpredictable and easily irritable (Blom and Sommer 2011, 238), often even revengeful and vicious. They are also said to live much longer than humans, so if they have a score to settle with someone who offended them, they might afflict successive generations. Much has been speculated about the modes of interaction between jinn and humans, but they are characterized by a certain imbalance, due to jinn’s flexibility with regard to material and spatial limitations. They are endowed with the ability to travel great distances at incredible speed. Jinn are conceptualized as creatures normally invisible to the human eye, but capable of making themselves visible or of conjuring up images. They can cross at will the fine line that divides the imaginal, unseen from the terrestrial, material world, where they might present themselves in the shape of an animal (Lim et al. 2018, 2) or a human, often a female. Jinn can be present around humans, can and observe them, and can become jealous or angry for various reasons. In revenge, jinn might briefly “touch” a human or, in the worst case, slip into human bodies and leave or take over human body parts or an entire body for a time at will (Dein et al. 2008, 37; Khan and Sanober 2016, 220). Due to this unnervingly unequal power balance, jinn are thought to be able to come into the material world of humans and affect human bodies and minds at any time. The constant threat of this interference in human lives is part of an individual Muslim’s risk management and depends on many factors, such as gender, education, social environment, and personal situation. Humans going through transitional phases, such as circumcision, menstruation, pregnancy, or traveling are said to be more vulnerable to jinn afflictions (Lim et al. 2015, 21). Belief in jinn is often also linked with various forms of belief in white and black magic (sih.r) and the evil eye cast by humans and demons (Krawietz 2002, 345–346). When it comes to jinn risk management, females seem to be more preoccupied by them than males, while healers are predominantly male (Habeeb Al- 2003, 33). A healer can be a Muslim scholar with a formal or informal education in Islamic sciences or a self-appointed layperson.

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

221

In case of affliction, the jinn¯ı is addressed and then persuaded to leave the human body. Jinn sometimes speak foreign languages and engage in discussions with the healer about their origins (Sündermann 2006, 201). In some cases, the afflicted human is massaged or beaten to move the jinn¯ı out of designated body openings. In cases where the jinn¯ı cannot be ousted from the human body, it can be appeased (Lim et al. 2015, 22) or burned. There is also a general belief that prayer and the recitation of certain Quranic verses serve as protective measures. Individuals afflicted are thought to have insomnia, hallucinations, delusional beliefs, hyperactivity, seizures, somatic complaints, and disorganized behavior and may speak in tongues as a result (Rassool 2015, 322). This has a significant impact on the diagnosis, treatment, and course of mental disorders, particularly psychotic disorders. There are few studies about jinn affliction in “political transitional phases” such as military occupation and war, accompanied by arrest, internment, detention, and torture. In her anthropological study of a Palestinian Muslim village in the Israeli-occupied West Bank, Rothenberg mentioned stories about jinn in male-dominated Israeli detention. In one case, the allegedly “Jewish jinn¯ı” turned out to speak just three words of Ivrit (Rothenberg 2004, 77–98). In another case, a “good jinn” gave a Palestinian Muslim detainee in the isolation cell family news, which relieved his stress. One Muslim detainee described being possessed by a Jewish jinn¯ıya, a female jinn¯ı, speaking Arabic, of whom even the Israeli prison guards were afraid. Finally, a Muslim shaykh managed to expel it (Rothenberg 2004, 101–106). Linking symptoms to supernatural causes is a familiar pattern of attributing causality among Muslims. The supernatural makeup and superhuman capabilities of jinn make them liminal creatures in a liminal space like Israeli prisons. The stories seem to indicate that all actors accept and manage jinn in the liminal fluidity of the prison and have conflicting claims. They are not only perceived as threatening. In GTMO, the phenomenon of jinn is also managed in a highly politicized context of liminality, serving as a prism of the carceral geography and its power relations. Jinn appear mainly in sources authored by American military and external legal and medical counselors and are declassified in a heavily censored form. They remain vague and are often culturally and politically biased. Sources authored by current and former captives are also censored in an extraordinary effort by the US to silence them (Connell et al. 2017, 74) and rarely mention jinn.

222

A. BÖTTCHER

In the following, I will explore two categories of encounters with jinn of six GTMO captives, starting with Abu Zubayda. His alleged diaries give an insight into two types of jinn affliction in the context of the military confrontation with the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan. They also document for this case that the concept of jinn existed before his arrival in Cuba, but it is unclear what concepts and approaches other captives brought with them and how these concepts developed within the confinement of GTMO. According to American military, external legal, and medical counselors, at least five captives seem to have struggled with afflictions by malevolent jinn. The descriptions range from their being a constant threat to captives to the actual affliction by taking over parts or the entire body. In two cases, US interrogators are even accused of jinn manipulation and expulsion.

Examples of Encounters with Jinn Abu Zubayda The diaries of Zayn al-Abidin Muhammad Husain, alias Abu Zubayda, were allegedly found during his capture in a raid in Faisalabad, Pakistan, in March 2002 (Cornwell, 9 November 2013) and remained with the CIA until a copy was published by Aljazeera. After his arrest, the CIA presented him as the third-ranking figure in al-Qa‘ida, and transferred him to a “Black Site” in Thailand to be severely tortured until he later resurfaced in GTMO (Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, 3 December 2014, 47). The first part of Abu Zubayda’s diaries portrays a youth of Palestinian origin in Saudi Arabia (Zubayda, 1990–1991, 10 July 1992). For his studies, he was sent to India, but instead had sexual adventures with his married neighbor and frequently got into trouble with the police. He decided to travel to Afghanistan to fight against the Soviet occupation. There he received military training and gradually developed into a pious Sunni Muslim engaged in supplementary prayers, weekly fasting, and Quranic reading. During this development, jinn appear in his diary. On 5 August 1992, he mentioned, a large campaign of “Jinn”… non-Moslems… are conducting a secret offensive against the mujahideen in Afghanistan, especially those who are in the Pakistani Peshawar, since it is considered the launch point or transit

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

223

station into the interior of Afghanistan, and it is where the administrative and management offices of the Afghan mujahideen parties exist. (Zubayda, 1992, 5 August 1992)

According to him, not everyone knew that jinn got involved in the military struggle, but gradually the news spread among the Muslim fighters in Afghanistan. On 6 August 1992, Abu Zubayda described being surprised by a jinn expulsion session in the library of his shared accommodation. Strange sounds came from behind a closed room: Suddenly, the Quran reader’s voice is silenced, but the cat’s sound is still coming from the mouth of a person. Then the door was completely opened this time, and the person who was reading Quran came out with his largebuild body and said in an irritable way trying to mix it with pleading: “Please, one of your Mujahideen brothers is ‘possessed by a demon’, and we are now trying to cast him out so that it doesn’t hurt your brother”. (Zubayda, 1992, 6 August 1992)

Later the “healer” discussed the matter with his comrades, including Abu Zubayda: When one of the brothers was reciting the Qur’an on a possessed person here… the patient shook off and produced strange voices, not to those who were familiar with the issue. The reciting person then continued his recitation and focused on the verses of torment and punishment. The patient tried to run away and resist, but the brothers held him and were barely able to tie him in spite of his small and tired body, but the possessed has the power often people. The voice became higher and wilder until the words he was uttering became clear. But the voice wasn’t that of the patient at all. The Jinni which inhabited the body of the patient brother was talking through the patient tongue and it was controlling his body, too, therefore resisting the Qur’an recitation. Then the conversation between the reciting sheikh and the patient, or more accurately between the sheikh and the Jinni through the patient’s tongue, started. The sheikh asked questions and the Jinni answered him and appealed not to recite the Qur’an because it was burning him. The Jinni admitted that he was a Christian Jinni inhabiting the body of the patient brother ordered by the “Christian Pope” in the Vatican in Rome, Italy. The Jinni revealed that the Pope conjured huge numbers of Christian Jinn who work with him and ordered them to harm the Jihadists and ruin their Jihad in any way possible. (Zubayda, 1992, 11 August 1992)

224

A. BÖTTCHER

The jinn session was continued on the following day, this time seemingly in Abu Zubayda’s presence, who recounted: he began reciting verses from Surat Al-Baqara. The rest of the crowd and I were watching until the young man screamed that he was burning, he was burning. The young man was silent for a little bit then he said, “Thank God! The crusader jinni was burnt.” Everyone began saying, “God is Great.”… The young man added, “We are praying for your silent brother, Abu-Zubayda; so pray for him. Also, pray that God protects your brothers from the jinn; your brothers are fighting with the Christian jinn inside Afghanistan and peace, God’s mercy, and blessings be upon you”. (Zubayda, 1992, 11 August 1992)

During this session, the Christian jinn¯ı was not extracted, but burned. Abu Zubayda’s description of Christian jinn being used by the Pope to harm the jihad in Afghanistan is consistent with Muslim concepts of jinn. They can be Christian or follow other religious beliefs. Guthrie et al. describe the case of an Afghan female patient in Manchester who was first possessed by Christian, then Muslim and Hindu jinn. Whether or not jinn can actually possess people is hotly debated among Muslims. While some believe that jinn live alongside humans, others think they inhabit parts of or the entire human body and are able to control it (Guthrie et al. 2016, 1–2). Interestingly, the jinn described in the context of the war of Afghanistan are enemies, perceived as working for the Pope, the supreme commander of the Christian crusader enemy. Abu Zubayda got a number of jinn-related treatments himself, when his inability to speak due to a head injury in a battle in Afghanistan was thought to be linked to a jinn¯ı tying his vocal cords (Zubayda 1992, 17 August 1992). On one occasion, in September 1991 near the battlefront in Gardez in Afghanistan, he was harassed by a female jinn (jinn¯ıya), in the shape of a seductive woman, who tried to rape him: I woke up… suffocated. I tried to move but I couldn’t, as if someone had tied me and pressed on my neck. This condition often happens to many people. It lasts for several minutes, rather, several seconds. One wakes up terrified as if from a nightmare, then it ends. But what happened to me is that I woke up with that condition and a person was really tying me but I couldn’t see him. The room was really dark, but that wasn’t the reason for being unable to see him, but because he didn’t exist to begin with. I was really about to get suffocated and this “nothing” allowed me only to

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

225

move my neck. I also felt someone playing with my crotch area. I felt an abnormal sexual excitement flow into my body. I felt angry, so I couldn’t control myself except for resisting it. I recited Al-Kursi verse with difficulty and, all of a sudden, everything ended then. It looked like as if I was falling from high above. (Zubayda 1992, 27 June 1992)

After a brief pause the attack of the jinn¯ıya continued: This time I felt that quite a woman was playing with my body – a shameless woman who has stolen my ability to control my crotch area. It was the same sexual excitement, rather, it was stronger: a non-figurative woman was raping me. My hands were tied but no one was tying them. My neck was tied too. I felt shameless kisses, as if another tongue was sucking mine. I know that I fall an easy prey to a woman from the Jinn how to break off with my tongue even under her control. I felt a chest of a woman, two full breasts sticking to my mouth. I kissed them knowing that they were important weak points of a woman. My tongue nearly loosened and I expressed an interest in another kiss; my tongue was completely free, so I seized the opportunity and I recited Al-Kursi verse and suddenly everything ended… I remained in my place to calm down the nervous tightness of my highly excited body, which seemed to be close. Everything around was normal except for the sexual excitement, which was still creeping into my body and into my veins. (Zubayda 1992, 27 June 1992)

He was relieved to find that he “did not find traces of wet dreams or full sexual intercourse,” and he thanked God for saving him from committing adultery with this jinn¯ıya. Abu Zubayda’s mention of jinn encounters in Afghanistan and Pakistan indicate that he was clearly familiar with the concept of jinn before his arrival in GTMO and depicted them as enemies. The security risk they posed was part of the wide range of threats Muslim fighters were confronted with in Afghanistan and Pakistan. They could take the shape of a female human, lurking in wait for and raping human beings (Badeen and Krawietz 2003, 102), thus emerging as truly liminal creatures, transgressing national and gender boundaries as well as spatial and material limitations. There do not seem to be any sources about how he dealt with jinn after his arrival. In the following, five other cases of GTMO captives from the Middle East (Syria-Lebanon), Uzbekistan, Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia, and England were considered. They were mentioned by American military, external legal, and medical counselors related to GTMO as having health problems related to jinn.

226

A. BÖTTCHER

Jihad Abu Wa’el Dhiab A particularly interesting case is that of Jihad Abu Wa’el Dhiab, because the jinn who inhabited him moved into the center of a highly politicized legal battle within the “Global War on Terrorism”. Mr. Dhiab, a Syrian of Lebanese origin, was married with four children at the time of his arrest in Afghanistan in 2002. He surfaced in GTMO, where he was incarcerated for twelve years without trial until his transfer to and subsequent release in Uruguay in December 2014 (New York Times Guantanamo Docket 2018). In GTMO, Mr. Dhiab suffered from bad health. In many legal documents dealing with his medical condition, he complained of having jinn in his legs. He contended that his captivity in GTMO and his conditions of detention violated the US Constitution, the Alien Torture Statute, the Fifth Amendment, and international law. In protest, he participated in a hunger strike and underwent 1300 “forcible cell extractions” to be transferred to a force-feeding location (United States Court of the District of Columbia, 6 October 2014, 64). During a “forcible cell extraction,” a captive or detainee is removed by force from a cell by a tactical team armed with less-than-lethal weapons like Tasers, pepper spray, and riot shields. Usually, it is a response to threatening behavior or a disciplinary infraction and can be very brutal. Due to Mr. Dhiab’s leg problems, he was at times transferred in a wheelchair, then fixed on a restraint chair, and a nasogastric tube was inserted into his stomach for the forcefeeding. His legal team argued that this procedure was highly painful, medically unnecessary, and a punitive measure to suppress his hunger strike. They contradicted the Obama government’s contention that forcefeedings were needed to prevent captives from starving themselves to death (Jacobs and Ackerman, 9 July 2015). In May 2014, a US district judge briefly stopped Mr. Dhiab’s forcefeedings and forced the Pentagon to disclose a number of force-feeding videos. The Pentagon claimed that he “does not suffer from any musculoskeletal problem or paralysis, but rather from self-described ‘genies’ in his legs.” This version was contested by one of Mr. Dhiab’s lawyers, who said that his client has been given morphine and other strong painkillers, which no doctor would prescribe to combat delusions induced by “genies” (Klasfeld, 19 June 2014). Subsequently, two medical experts, Sandra Crosby, a physician at the Boston Medical Center, and Stephen Xenakis, a former brigadier general

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

227

and a psychiatrist, went to GTMO to examine Mr. Dhiab’s mental state in September 2014. Subsequently, the concept of jinn was discussed in detail at a hearing at the United States District Court for the District of Columbia on 6 October 2014. Sandra Crosby told the court it’s possible that one of the explanatory… models might be the presence of jinns, which are not human creatures, that actually are common in Arab culture, inhabit the body, and can cause usually psychological, but also physical symptoms, and he was interested in pursuing that theory. (United States District Court for the District of Columbia, 6 October 2014, 42)

When asked by the court if she believed in jinn, she confirmed and continued to explain: As I said, it’s really a mythical nonhuman being that inhabits the body and causes usually psychological symptoms such as psychosis, seizures, sometimes physical symptoms, and this is part of certain – certain cultures in the Arab world. It can be seen in certain cultures in the Arab world. I have patients in my own practice who believe jinns are responsible for some of their symptomatology, and they use it as an explanatory model of disease. (United States District Court for the District of Columbia, 6 October 2014, 45–46)

Mr. Dhiab believed that “jinn have inhabited his leg,” which is an example of a culture-bound syndrome (United States District Court for the District of Columbia, 6 October 2014, 66). When asked by the judge how she would treat a patient with a complaint of jinn, she responded: In somebody like Mr. Dhiab’s case, I would probably utilize an Islamic or cultural healer as part of the treatment team to further discuss this with him. (United States District Court for the District of Columbia, 6 October 2014, 46–47)

Stephen Xenakis appeared in the same court hearing and explained that Mr. Dhiab told him …in my culture we called these jinns, that there’s a kind of spirit that gets in you and sort of influences how you think and how you approach things. And so I can best explain it from my cultural background, totally appropriate… It is just a metaphor. It’s just a way of people trying to explain

228

A. BÖTTCHER

themselves. (United States District Court for the District of Columbia, 6 October 2014, 124)

He concluded: There is no evidence of hallucinations, delusions, or illusions. He refers to cultural traditions of “spirits or jins” that can influence health and state of mind. His descriptions are appropriate to his culture and his physical complaints. (Xenakis 2014, 7)

This example shows that jinn, central components of Islamic cosmology, emerge as liminal actors in the center of the US political and judicial state structure as a symbol of the liminality of US efforts of securitization during the “Global War on Terrorism”. Medical and legal experts struggle to legally appropriate the concept of jinn in an effort to help Mr. Dhiab regain a minimum of control over his own body and to relieve some of his enormous suffering. It is unclear however, how Mr. Dhiab viewed the jinn affliction in his leg.

Shakhrukh Hamiduva Another captive suffering from jinn was Shakhrukh Hamiduva, alias Sharo Hasda,4 an Uzbek minor. In a memorandum evaluating the risks of his release, the annex contains a “Behavioral Health Service Addendum” dated May 27, 2004. According to it, the captive consulted the “Behavioral Health Services” after a self-injury from September 2002: When the detainee first came to Behavioral Health attention, he reported audiovisual hallucinations in the form of djinn with whom he fought to regain control over himself. At that time, he was diagnosed with Psychotic Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, due to lack of a clear symptom presentation, and malingering was also considered. (Department of Defense, Joint Task Force 170, 28 May 2004, 1–3)

Further down in the addendum, the author wonders about the diagnosis, as the detainee is not reported to have complained specifically of depressive symptoms. He was noted to have depressed affect while spending time in temporary segregation. (Department of Defense, Joint Task Force 170, 28 May 2004, 2)

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

229

Long-term solitary confinement and the absence of social and environmental stimulation in US-style super-maximum security detention, the most secure level of custody in the US detention system, has been found to lead to a range of psychiatric problems, ranging from insomnia and confusion to hallucinations, paranoia, attempts at self-harm and selfmutilation, and psychosis (Scharff Smith 2006, 463; Human Rights Watch 2008, 22). These periods of prolonged isolation increased jinnrelated fears among incarcerated Muslims. A report by Human Rights Watch described the deterioration of mental health in GTMO due to the extreme social isolation in detention (Human Rights Watch 2008, 3). Most captives spend around 22 hours daily without social interaction in their cells. None of them has ever been allowed a visit from family or friend, and many of them were not allowed to make phone calls home for many years (Human Rights Watch 2008, 14–15). Video conference calls started as late as September 2008, organized, and supervised by the International Committee of the Red Cross (International Committee of the Red Cross, 18 September 2009).

Allegations of Jinn Manipulation by US Interrogators While the aforementioned captives struggled with jinn affliction, the following three examples go a step further. According to the US-censored sources, the captives were under the impression that US interrogators appropriated the Islamic concept of jinn. The first example is Muhammad al-Qahtani, who was captured near Tora Bora in Afghanistan and transferred to GTMO. He was accused of having been involved in the September 11 attacks. His interrogation log, authored by his interrogators from November 2002 to January 2003, obtained and subsequently published by TIME magazine in 2005, gives a rare insight into the brutality of the interrogation sessions in GTMO (Zagorin and Duffy, 20 June 2005). In these “sanitized” protocols, alQahtani is said to have accused an interrogator on 27 November 2002 “of working with the jinn”. On 10 December 2002, still under intense interrogation and torture, he stated, “Jinns had control of his emotions and only a trained doctor could help him” (TIME 2006). According to an article in the New York Times, Mr. al-Qahtani was reported to have asked for psychological support, because he thought he was having a problem with jinn. But “the interrogators instead performed an exorcism

230

A. BÖTTCHER

for ‘jinns’ – supernatural creatures that he believed caused his problems” (Fink, 12 November 2016). Mr. al-Qahtani’s file for the Periodic Review Board from 24 July 2018 contains a medical evaluation report by Dr. Emily Keram, an American forensic psychiatrist, who met with him in GTMO from 22 to 27 May 2015. She is a forensic psychiatrist with experience in PTSD and with GTMO captives. According to her, Mr. al-Qahtani developed psychotic symptoms in his childhood and had schizophrenia and major recurrent depression before entering US custody. He had consulted a Muslim healer, a “reader, a traditional healer who used the Koran to exorcise ‘djins’ (spirits or demons) who are believed to cause psychotic symptoms in certain cultures” (Keram, 5 June 2016). After this arrest and while in US custody, Mr. al-Qahtani was subjected to torture and solitary confinement, including sleep deprivation, extreme temperature, noise exposure, stress positions, forced nudity, body cavity searches, sexual assaults, beatings, strangling, threats of rendition, and waterboarding. He described auditory and visual hallucinations of ghosts. Dr. Keram recommended In addition to clinical treatment, Mr. al-Qahtani requires culturally informed approaches to understanding and addressing his symptoms. In his culture, symptoms of schizophrenia are thought to be caused by “djinns” or spirits. Ridding a person of djinns requires that a skilled healer read from the Koran over the affected person. This “reader” also assists in interpreting the person’s symptoms in a way that allows them to continue to have a place in the family and society. (Keram, 2 February 2014)

In an appendix dated 14 April 2018, Dr. Keram wrote that Mr. al-Qahtani told his attorney in a phone call in March 2018 that his health had not improved and that he had visions of being chased by ghosts during the day. He received medications “to help him forget about ‘ghosts’” (Keram, 14 April 2016). To sum up, Mr. al-Qahtani seems to have had mental health problems allegedly because of affliction by malevolent jinn before reaching GTMO. Once in GTMO, he is depicted as having continuous problems with jinn, but instead of receiving help from GTMO, he accused the authorities of instrumentalizing them and turning them against him during an act of “exorcism”. Hence, in his perception, these creatures became allies of the US authorities.

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

231

Shaker Aamer is another captive who thought that jinn might have been manipulated by his interrogators. He is a British citizen kidnapped in Afghanistan in 2001 and transferred to GTMO in 2002 (Kaye, 14 April 2014). Dr. Keram documented his health on behalf of Mr. Aamer’s lawyers, who were asking for his release due to chronic health problems. Mr. Aamer told his psychiatrist: We believed that the people here, the CIA, the interrogators, use “djinn” (spirits). The evil djinn. Some of the things that happened, you can’t explain. Some people (would) think that it was drugs or something, but 95% of us believe we got possessed by djinn. (Keram, 2 February 2014, 10)

H . usain Abd al-Q¯adir is a Palestinian academic who moved to Afghanistan with his family in 1992 and was arrested in Peshawar by the Pakistani police ten years later at his residence and transferred to GTMO. In his memoirs, he mentioned that some interrogators also used “witchcraft (sihr),” against which captives recited the Quran ( Abd al-Q¯adir, 1434/2013, 208). In conclusion, all accounts depict malevolent jinn, filtered through the sources authored by American military, external legal, and medical counselors related to GTMO. Jihad Abu Wa’el Dhiab provides an example of a jinn taking over body parts. In the case of Shakhrukh Hamiduva, it is not clear if jinn have already taken over parts of or his entire body. Muhammad al-Qahtani is also described as having struggled with hostile jinn, which he thought were manipulated by his interrogators. This belief that jinn are collaborating with GTMO authorities is shared by Shaker Aamer, who also claims that the majority of captives believed they were possessed by jinn. H . usain Abd al-Q¯adir even accused interrogators of using witchcraft. In all the cases mentioned above, captives have been affected by war, collective violence, forced displacement, and torture, causing them emotional distress related to depression. The legal and material conditions of incarceration in GTMO can be considered an ongoing form of psychological torture, which makes its inmates particularly vulnerable to developing psychological problems such as depression, posttraumatic stress symptoms, various forms of anxiety disorders, chronic pain, medically unexplained somatic symptoms, and suicidal behavior (Hassan et al. 2016, 131–132).

232

A. BÖTTCHER

It is not possible to discern culture-bound syndromes particular to certain social and religious groups or geographic areas, or manifestations of common psychiatric conditions, expressed through culture-bound beliefs. According to a review of 47 case reports of patients presenting symptoms they attributed to jinn affliction, the biomedical diagnosis of schizophrenia was the most common (45.2%) (Guthrie et al. 2016, 1). The ways these symptoms manifest themselves and are labeled and managed is shaped by cultural context and beliefs. In addition, for many Muslims the explicit labeling of distress as a mental health problem involves the risk of being considered “mad” and constitutes a source of embarrassment and shame (Hassan et al. 2016, 134). But according to Connell, many captives in GTMO refused to discuss mental health problems, because they doubted that they would be believed or, even worse, they were afraid of being drugged to stay silent (Connell et al. 2017, 70). The captives’ fear of being medicated seems to have been justified, because the director of the Mental Health Team in GTMO, Dr. Shay Rosecran, confessed to The New York Times that she prescribed “strong anti-psychotics” after captives had complained about a “jinn plague” (Fink, 12 November 2016). Seeking mental health care was clearly considered a threat. To help render the horrors experienced intelligible and tangible, captives in GTMO referred to jinn afflictions as a culturally familiar set of explanations. Malevolent jinn are a kind of distorting mirror of the nightmare of GTMO, a collective representation of unremitting and implacable evil, incorporating what is fearful and detestable (Shorter 2005, 104).

Jinn and the Role of Mental Healthcare at GTMO These accounts raise questions about the role of mental health care at GTMO. James Connell, a US defense attorney contracted by the US Department of Defense for captives in GTMO, seemed to have been under the impression that there was a lack of expertise in Muslim patient mental health management. He mentioned problems of the “predominantly Western approach to medical treatment,” especially in Camp 7. Access to this camp is granted only to Americans with security clearance on the “top secret/secure compartmented information/special access program” level. According to him, US medical, psychological, and legal professionals had little knowledge about how the culturally diverse male Muslim captives at GTMO conceptualize illness. Culture has a big influence on the way mental stress is understood and expressed and on how mental distress and medical symptoms are resolved (Connell et al. 2017,

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

233

70; Quiroga and Jaranso 2005, 41). Connell mentions that pious Muslims express some symptoms with reference to jinn: Many Muslims also believe that Jinn can enter the human body and cause mental illness. Symptoms of Jinn possession could be forgetfulness, lack of energy and morbid fears. American professionals, particularly the detention authorities at Guantanamo, have been quick to dismiss these complaints because they are expressed in an unfamiliar cultural vocabulary. (Connell et al. 2017, 70)

American medical, psychological, psychiatric, and legal professionals do not align with the physical and mental illness conceptualizations of a culturally and ethnically diverse captive population at GTMO (Connell et al. 2017, 70). Other sources suggest that mental health staff at GTMO was not lacking in cultural diversity management skills at all, but contributed to a learning process about the role of Islam in Muslim captives’ lives and its instrumentalization in enhanced interrogation techniques. In an ICRC report from February 2007, this insertion of medical staff in interrogations is further elaborated. It was performing medical checks before and after each transfer to a detention facility. Healthcare was provided to treat the direct consequences of torture and other illnesses during detention (International Committee of the Red Cross February 2007, 21–22). A medical officer was also present during the waterboarding of Abu Zubayda (Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, 3 December 2014, 70). A recently released document about the “latest psychological status of Abu Zubayda,” dated April 2004, contains a psychological status report and a psychological interrogation assessment by an anonymous psychologist. It stated that the captive “continues to proactively add order and structure and meaning to his life by practicing his religion, studying the Qur’an” (American Civil Liberties Union, 1 April 2004). The New York Review of Books published details of a confidential report of the ICRC to the US administration accusing the US military of “intentionally using psychological and sometimes physical coercion ‘tantamount to torture on prisoners at Guantanamo’.” The report also accused some doctors and other medical workers of participating in planning for interrogations in “a flagrant violation of medical ethics”. They conveyed information about prisoners’ mental health and vulnerabilities

234

A. BÖTTCHER

to interrogators, sometimes directly, but usually through a group called the Behavioral Science Consultation Team, or BSCT, a team also known as Biscuit and composed of psychologists and psychological workers who advise the interrogators (Lewis, 30 November 2004). Mr. Alhaj’s memoirs portray medical staff as being complicit in the torture and interrogation architecture. Medical services were almost comparable to the medical experiments of a Nazi concentration camp. Apart from allegedly intentionally failing operations, including amputations, captives were forced to receive injections and medicine to make them more compliant (Alhaj 2018, 17). It is quite clear that any captive in GTMO would have ample reason to mistrust anyone, including medical staff, approaching him in a highly guarded detention site, to which access is granted only by the US administration. Acknowledgements I would like to thank Martin Beck, James Connell, Lutz Hager, and Birgit Krawietz for reading and commenting on earlier versions of this contribution.

Notes 1. Sami al-Hajj worked for Aljazeera in Afghanistan as a cameraman when he was arrested in December 2001 by the Pakistani border police. First, he was held at Bagram and Kandahar and later transferred to Guantanamo. He was finally released to the Sudanese government in May 2008. See “Sami al Hajj”, The Guantanamo Docket, The New York Times https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/projects/guantanamo/ detainees/345-sami-al-hajj, last accessed 23 December 2018. 2. He came to Germany with a scholarship to study. In 1990, he joined the jihad in Afghanistan and after that returned to Germany to finish his studies. In 2001, he was arrested in Mauretania and transferred to Guantanamo. His book was published in January 2015, and he was released in October 2016. 3. Quran: The Koran Interpreted. Translated by Arthur J. Arberry. New York: Touchstone, 1996. 4. Born in Kokand, Uzbekistan in December 1983. He was arrested in Mazare-Sharif by Afghans and handed over to US forces. He was released to Ireland in 2009. See “Shakhrukh Hamiduva”, The Guantanamo Docket, The New York Times https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/projects/gua ntanamo/detainees/22-shakhrukh-hamiduva, last accessed 22 December 2018.

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

235

Bibliography Abd al-Q¯adir, H at mu taqal min juw¯ ant¯ an¯ am¯ u, k¯ ub¯ a (Detainee’s . usain. Dhikray¯ Memoirs from Guantanamo, Cuba), 2nd ed. Riyadh: Maktabat al-Ubaik¯an, 1434/2013. American Civil Liberties Union. Cable re: Abu Zubaydah Latest Psychological Status, 1434/2013. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.thetortureda tabase.org/files/foia_subsite/119_ocr.pdf. Alhaj, Sami. Prisoner 345: My Six Years in Guantanamo. Qatar: Aljazeera, 2018. Amnesty International. USA: Out of Sight, Out of Mind, Out of Court? The Right of Bagram Detainees to Judicial Review. 18 February 2009. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.amnesty.org/en/documents/AMR51/021/ 2009/en/. Badeen, Edward, and Birgit Krawietz. “Islamic Reinvention of Jinn: StatusCut and Success Story.” In Identidades Marginales, edited by Cristina de la Puente, 93–109. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigationes Cientificas, 2003. Blom, Jan Dirk, and Iris Sommer. Hallucinations. Berlin: Springer Science & Business Media, 2011. Cobain, Ian, and James Ball. “New Light Shed on US Government’s Extraordinary Rendition Programme.” The Guardian. 22 May 2013. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2013/may/22/us-ext raordinary-rendition-programme. Comaroff, Joshua. “Terror and Territory: Guantanamo and the Space of Contradiction.” Public Culture 19, no. 2 (2007): 381–405. https://doi.org/10. 1215/08992363-2006-043. Committee of Armed Services. Inquiry into the Treatment of Detainees in U.S. Custody: Report of the Committee on Armed Services United States Senate. 20 November 2008. Accessed on 6 March 2019. https://www.armed-services. senate.gov/imo/media/doc/Detainee-Report-Final_April-22-2009.pdf. Connell, James, Alka Pradhan, and Margaux Lander. “Obstacles to Torture Rehabilitation at Guantánamo Bay.” Torture Journal 27, no. 2 (2017): 62–78. https://doi.org/10.7146/torture.v27i2.97219. Cornwell, Rupert. “The Secret Diary of Abu Zubaydah, from Student to Hardline Jihadi and CIA Torture.” Independent. 9 November 2013. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/middle-east/ the-secret-diary-of-abu-zubaydah-from-student-to-hardline-jihadi-and-cia-tor ture-8929831.html. Dein, Simon, Malcolm Alexander, and A. David Napier. “Jinn, Psychiatry and Contested Notions of Misfortune Among East London Bangladeshis.” Transcultural Psychiatry 45, no. 1 (2008): 31–55. https://doi.org/10.1177/136 3461507087997.

236

A. BÖTTCHER

Department of Defense, Joint Task Force, Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Memorandum for Commander, Joint Task Force 170. From Diane E. Beaver, LTC, USA, Staff Judge Advocate, Subject: Counter-Resistance Strategies. 11 October 2002. Accessed on 7 March 2019. http://www.npr.org/documents/2004/ dod_prisoners/20040622doc3.pdf. Department of Defense, Joint Task Force 170. JTF-GTMO Memorandum for Commander. Subject: Update Recommendation to Transfer to the Control of Another Country for Continued Detention (TRCD) for Guantanamo Detainee, ISN: US9UZ-000022DP (S). 28 May 2004. Accessed on 22 December 2018. https://wikileaks.org/gitmo/pdf/uz/us9uz-000022dp.pdf. El-Zein, Amira. Islam, Arabs, and the Intelligent World of the Jinn. Syracuse, New York: Syracuse University Press, 2009. Federal Bureau of Investigation. FBI Memo re: FBI Agents Experience and Observations While Touring Camp Delta, Guantanamo. 15 September 2004. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.thetorturedatabase.org/files/foia_s ubsite/pdfs/DOJFBI003650.pdf. Fink, Sheri. “Where Even Nightmares Are Classified: Psychiatric Care at Guantanamo.” The New York Times. 12 November 2016. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.nytimes.com/2016/11/13/world/guantanamo-bay-doc tors-abuse.html. Fletcher, Laurel. The United States’ Compliance with the United Nations Convention Against Torture with Respect to Guantánamo Bay Detainees and the Cumulative Impact of Confinement, the Abuse of Detainees Post Release, and the Right to Redress. Berkeley, CA: International Human Rights Law Clinic (IHRLC). Center for Constitutional Rights, University of California, November 2014. https://www.law.berkeley.edu/files/Berkeley_Law_and_ Center_for_Constitutional_Rights_CAT_Shadow_Report.pdf. Accessed on 5 March 2019. Goffman, Erving. Asylums: Essays on the Social Situation of Mental Patients and Other Inmates. Garden City, NY: Anchor Books, Doubleday & Company Inc., 1961. Golden, Tim. “The Battle for Guantanamo.” The New York Times. 17 September 2006. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.nytimes.com/2006/09/17/ magazine/17guantanamo.html. Guthrie, Elspeth, Seri Abraham, and Shahzada Nawaz. “Process of Determining the Value of Belief About Jinn Possession and Whether or Not They Are a Result of Mental Illness.” British Medical Journal Case Rep (2016): 1–4. Habeeb Al-, Tariq. “A Pilot Study of Faith Healers’ Views on Evil Eye, Jinn Possession, and Magic in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.” Journal of Family & Community Medicine 10, no. 3 (2003): 31. Harrington, Thomas J. Letter from T.J. Harrington, Deputy Assistant Director, Counterterrorism Division, Federal Bureau of Investigation, to Major General

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

237

Donald J. Ryder, Department of the Army, re. Susptected Mistreatment of Detainees. 14 July 2004. Accessed on 5 March 2019. http://www.aclu.org/ torturefoia/released/FBI_4622_4624.pdf. Hassan, G., P. Ventevogel, H. Jefee-Bahloul, A. Barkil-Oteo, and L. J. Kirmayer. “Mental Health and Psychosocial Wellbeing of Syrians Affected by Armed Conflict.” Epidemiology and Psychiatric Sciences 25 (2016): 129–141. Honigsberg, Peter Jan. “The Real Origin of the Term ‘Enemy Combattant’.” Huffingtonpost. 11 March 2014. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www. huffingtonpost.com/peter-jan-honigsberg/the-real-origin-of-the-te_b_4562 216.html. Human Rights Watch. Guantanamo: Detainee Accounts. 26 October 2004. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.hrw.org/report/2004/10/26/gua ntanamo-detainee-accounts. Human Rights Watch. Locked Up Alone: Detention Conditions and Mental Health at Guantanamo. New York: Human Rights Watch, 2008. Accessed on 10 March 2019. https://www.hrw.org/report/2008/06/09/locked-alone/det ention-conditions-and-mental-health-guantanamo. International Committee of the Red Cross. United States: Video Link Between Guantanamo Detainees and Families [Press release]. 18 September 2009. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.icrc.org/en/doc/resources/doc uments/news-release/2009-and-earlier/united-states-news-180909.htm. International Committee of the Red Cross. ICRC Report on the Treatment of Fourteen “High Value Detainees” in CIA Custody. Geneva: ICRC, February 2007. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.nybooks.com/media/doc/ 2010/04/22/icrc-report.pdf. Islam, Farah, and R. A. Campbell. “‘Satan Has Afflicted Me!’ Jinn-Possession and Mental Illness in the Qur’an.” Journal of Religious Health 53 (2014): 229–243. Jacobs, Ben, and Spencer Ackerman. “Judge Pushes to Speed Up Release of Force Feeding Videos at Guantanamo Bay.” The Guardian. 9 July 2015. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2015/ jul/09/guantanamo-bay-videotapes-force-feeding. Jens, Erik. “A Review of Enhanced Interrogation: Inside the Minds and Motives of the Islamic Terrorists Who Are Trying to Destroy America.” Studies in Intelligence 61, no. 3 (2017): 63–73. Kaye, Jeffrey. “‘You Are Completely Destroyed’: Testimony on Torture from Shaker Aamer’s Medical Report at Guantanamo.” ShadowProof . 14 April 2014. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://shadowproof.com/2014/04/ 14/you-are-completely-destroyed-testimony-on-torture-from-shaker-aamersmedical-report-at-guantanamo/.

238

A. BÖTTCHER

Keram, Emily. Report on Aamer’s Health by Independent Psychiatrist Dr. Emily A. Keram. 2 February 2014. Accessed on 5 March 2019. http://www.doc umentcloud.org/documents/1104738-aamer-medical-report.html. Keram, Emily. “Appendix: Medical Evaluation Report reg. Mohammed alQahtani.” In Periodic Review Board File Review, 24 July 2018, Mohammad Mani Ahmad Al-Qahtani, ISN 063, Detainee Statement, Department of Defense, Periodic Review Secretariat (ed.) Periodic Review Board File Review. 5 June 2016. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.prs.mil/Portals/60/ Documents/ISN063/SubsequentFullReview1/20180624_U_PR_ISN063_ DET_DOCS_FULL_REVIEW_CLEAR.pdf. Keram, Emily. Supplemental Declaration of Emily A. Keram, M.D. Regarding Mohammed Al Qahtani, Appendix to PC Statement In Medical Evaluation Report, Periodic Review Board Secretariat, Department of Defense (ed.). 14 April 2018. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.prs.mil/Portals/60/ Documents/ISN063/SubsequentFullReview1/20180624_U_PR_ISN063_ DET_DOCS_FULL_REVIEW_CLEAR.pdf. Khan, Qurat ul Ain, and Aisha Sanober. “‘Jinn Possession’ and Delirious Mania in a Pakistani Woman.” American Journal of Psychiatry 173, no. 3 (2016): 219–220. Klasfeld, Adam. “‘Genies’ Cited in Once-Secret Brief on Wheelchair Ban at Guantanamo.” Courthousenews. 19 June 2014. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.courthousenews.com/genies-cited-in-once-secretbriefon-wheelchair-ban-at-guantanamo/. Krawietz, Birgit. “Islamic Conceptions of the Evil Eye.” Medicine and Law 21, no. 1 (2002): 339–355. Lewis, Neil. “Red Cross Finds Detainee Abuse in Guantanamo.” The New York Times. 30 November 2004. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.nyt imes.com/2004/11/30/politics/red-cross-finds-detainee-abuse-in-guanta namo.html. Lim, Anastasia, Hans W. Hoek, and Jan Dirk Blom. “The Attribution of Psychotic Symptoms to Jinn in Islamic Patients.” Transcultural Psychiatry 52, no. 1 (2015): 18–32. https://doi.org/10.1177/1363461514543146. Lim, Anastasia, Hans W. Hoek, Samrad Ghane, Mathijs Deen, and Jan Dirk Blom. “The Attribution of Mental Health Problems to Jinn: An Explorative Study in a Transcultural Psychiatric Outpatient Clinic.” Frontiers in Psychiatry 9 (2018): 89. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyt.2018.00089. Mälksoo, Maria. “The Challenge of Liminality of International Relations Theory.” Review of International Studies 38, no. 2 (2012): 481–494. Mayer, Jane. “Outsourcing Torture: The Secret History of America’s “Extraordinary Rendition” Program.” The New Yorker. 14 February 2005. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2005/02/14/ outsourcing-torture.

11

JINN AMONG MUSLIM CAPTIVES IN GUANTANAMO …

239

Moran, Dominique. “Carceral Geography and the Spacialities of Prison Visiting: Visitation, Recidivism, and Hyperincarceration.” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 31 (2013): 174–190. https://doi.org/10.1068/ d18811. New York Times Guantanamo Docket. Jihad Ahmed Mujstafa Diyab. 2018. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/projects/ guantanamo/detainees/722-jihad-ahmed-mujstafa-diyab. Physicians for Human Rights. Break Them Down: Systematic Use of Psychological Torture by US Forces. New York: PHR, 2005. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://phr.org/resources/break-them-down/. Quiroga, José, and James M. Jaranso. “Politically-Motivated Torture and Its Survivors.” Torture 15 (2005): 2–3. Quran: The Koran Interpreted. Translated by Arthur J. Arberry. New York: Touchstone, 1996. Rassool, Hussein. “Cultural Competence in Counseling the Muslim Patient: Implications for Mental Health.” Archives of Psychiatric Nursing 29, no. 5 (2015): 321–325. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.apnu.2015.05.009. Rothenberg, Celia. Spirits of Palestine. Lanham, MA: Lexington Books, 2004. Saar, Eric, and Viveca Novak. Inside the Wire: A Military Intelligence Soldier’s Eyewitness Account of Life at Guantanamo. New York: Penguin Press, 2005. Scharff Smith, Peter. “The Effects of Solitary Confinement on Prison Inmates: A Brief History and Review of the Literature.” Crime and Justice 34, no. 1 (2006): 441–528. Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. Committee Study of the Central Intelligence Agency’s Detention and Interrogation Program. 3 December 2014. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.thetorturedatabase.org/files/foia_s ubsite/pdfs/SSCIStudyCIAsDetentionInterrogationProgramES.pdf. Shorter, Aylward. East African Societies. London: Routledge, 2005. Slahi, Mohamedou Ould. Guantanamo Diary. Edinburgh, London: Canongate, 2015. Sündermann, Katja. Spirituelle Heiler im modernen Syrien. Berlin: Verlag Hans Schiler, 2006. TIME. “Interrogation Log Detainee 063.” TIME. 2006. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://content.time.com/time/2006/log/log.pdf. United States District Court for the District of Columbia. Transcript of Motion Hearing Proceedings Before the Honorable Gladys Kessler, United States District Court Judge: Abu Wa’el (Jihad) Dhiab vs. Barack H. Obama. Civil Action No. 05-1457. Day 1: 6 October 2014, Washington D.C. 6 October 2014. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://constitutionproject.org/wp-content/upl oads/2014/10/10-6-Dhiab-PI-hearing-transcript.pdf. US Department of Justice, Office of Inspector General. A Review of the FBI’s Involvement in and Observation of Detainee Interrogation in

240

A. BÖTTCHER

Guantanamo Bay, Afghanistan, and Iraq. October 2009. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https://www.thetorturedatabase.org/files/foia_subsite/doj_ oig_report_as_reprocessed_for_20091030.pdf. Xenakis, Stephen N. Xenakis Report Re: Abu Wa’el (Jihad) Dhiab (ISN 722) v. Barack H. Obama, et al. 2014. Accessed on 5 March 2019. https:// www.miamiherald.com/news/nation-world/world/americas/guantanamo/ article2524292.ece/binary/The%20retired%20Army%20psychiatrist%27s%20r eport%20to%20the%20court. Yusuf, Ali Abdullah. The Meaning of the Holy Qur’an, 10th ed. Beltsville, MD: Amana Publications, 1999. Zagorin, Adam, and Michael Duffy. “Inside the Interrogation of Detainee 063.” TIME. 20 June 2005. Accessed on 5 March 2019. http://time.com/362 4326/inside-the-interrogation-of-detainee-063/. Zubayda, Abu. Diary Abu Zubayda 1, 7 August 1990–16 November 1991. In Federal Bureau of Investigation. United States Department of Justice, Chicago Division (ed.), File Number: 415A-HQ-154776-G, Task Number 3749 (128 p.). 1990–1991. Accessed on 5 March 2019. http://www.documentcloud. org/documents/814813-notebook-1-the-diary-of-abu-zubaydah.html. Zubayda, Abu. Diary Abu Zubayda 2, 1992. In Federal Bureau of Investigation. United States Department of Justice, Chicago Division (ed.), File Number: 315 N-HQ-154776-G, Task Number 3990. 1992. Accessed on 5 March 2019. http://www.documentcloud.org/documents/836231-not ebook-2-the-diary-of-abu-zubaydah.html.

Index

A Aamer, Shaker, 231 ‘Abdall¯ah, Ibn Ah.mad Ibn H . anbal, 68 Abel, 22 Abu al-Qasim al-Iraqi, Ahmad, 82 abuse, 109, 174, 194, 195 Adam, 21–24, 36, 75, 186 advent of Islam, 23, 69 adwiya nabawiyya. See divine remedies affliction, by jinn, 2–4, 6, 8, 12, 60, 187, 192, 193, 220–222, 228–230, 232 Afghan, Afghanistan, 12, 81, 170, 193, 216, 218, 219, 222–226, 229, 231, 234 agency, 8, 70, 77, 87, 89, 93, 110, 115, 122, 138–144, 147, 200 ahl ash-shar . See specialists of the shar¯ıa Ahmadinejad, 79 Aisha, wife of the Prophet Muhammad, 101 al-Ash‘ar¯ı, Ab¯ u al-H . asan, 68

‘Alawi, 88, 92, 95 al-Azraq, Ibr¯ah¯ım, 49 Alexandria, school of, 47 alienation, 2, 7, 20 Alien Torture Statute, 226 ‘¯ alim, Pl. ‘ulam¯ a . See religious scholar Aljazeera, 222, 234 Allah. See God America, American, 139 American Psychiatric Association, APA, 185, 188, 209 ¯ amir (pl. umm¯ ar). See jinn living together with humans an. See physical diseases amr¯ ad. al-abd¯ amr¯ ad. al-qul¯ ub. See diseases of the heart al-amr bil-ma r¯ uf , 56 amulet, 6, 50, 102, 130, 131 angel, 23, 24, 27, 36, 91 anger, 56, 86, 91, 143, 155 animal, 5, 27–29, 38, 56, 186, 220 an-Naz.z.¯am, Ab¯ u Ish.¯aq, 20

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 A. Böttcher and B. Krawietz (eds.), Islam, Migration and Jinn, The Modern Muslim World, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61247-4

241

242

INDEX

anthropology, anthropological, 1, 5, 6, 8–10, 78, 122, 135, 138, 139, 151, 170, 189, 197, 202, 204, 208 anthropomorphic, 27, 28 anxiety, 172, 186, 187, 191, 194, 198 apparent meaning, 73 Arab, Arabic, 2, 5–8, 12, 19, 22, 26, 28, 29, 33, 35, 47, 49, 65, 66, 69, 73, 82, 83, 103, 123, 132, 148, 164, 186, 200, 221, 227 Arabian Peninsula, 23, 56, 71 arw¯ ah.. See spirit, spirits, spiritual Asad, Talal, 138, 139, 142 ash-Shayt.¯ an. See satan, Satan, satans, satanic asylum seeker, 169, 170 atheist, atheistic, 71, 78 attack, 19, 24, 28, 35, 56, 102, 108, 111, 115, 130, 135, 142, 144, 172, 185, 190, 192, 193, 197, 198, 200, 215, 225, 229 ‘aura, 218 Austria, 152 Avicenna. See Ibn S¯ın¯a, Ibn Sina ¯ Ayat al-Kursi, 225 al- ayn. See evil eye ‘azz¯ama, 105, 106, 116

B Badakhsh¯ı, 37 Badeen, Edward, 26, 35, 89, 90, 225 al-Bagh¯aw¯ı, al-H . usayn, 66 Baghdad, 36, 47, 49, 60, 79, 82 al-Baghd¯ad¯ı, Abd al-Lat.¯ıf, 49 Bagram, 218, 219, 234 Bangladesh, 125, 167 al-B¯aqillan¯ı, Ab¯ u Bakr, 67 baraka. See divine blessing Barcelona, 99, 100, 103, 113 Barelwi, 125, 126

Basel, 36 al-Bayd.¯aw¯ı, N¯as.ir al-D¯ın, 73 b¯ a.tin. See hidden Battle of Karbala, 80 b¯ az¯ı. See play beating, 55, 57, 65, 66, 68, 89, 92, 217, 230 Bedouins, 20, 33, 53 Begg, Moazzam, 218 Behavioral Health, 228 Behavioral Health Service, 228 Behavioral Science Consultation Team, BSCT, 234 Belgium, 112, 117 belief in voices of otherwise invisible beings, 33 Ben ‘Ajiba, Darqawi Ahmed, 116 Benkheira, Mohammed, 100 Bible, 5, 31 Bilq¯ıs. See Queen of Sheba biomedical, biomedicine, 4, 7, 8, 11, 74, 115, 121, 126, 129, 146, 148, 154, 165, 170, 173–175, 177, 190, 232 al-Biq¯a‘¯ı, Ibr¯ah¯ım, 67, 70 al-Birz¯al¯ı, Muh.ammad, 49 Black Death, 60 black hole, 219 black magic, 3, 9, 74, 79, 90, 94, 105, 109, 111–113, 122–124, 131, 134, 148, 205, 207, 220 Black Site, 12, 216, 217, 222 blessing, divine, 50 blood, 18, 22, 48, 66, 70, 71, 86, 107, 113, 117, 148 bodily resurrection on the Last Day, 18 body and mind, 4, 171 Boston Medical Center, 226 Böttcher, Annabelle, 2, 10, 12, 74, 95 Bourguignon, Erika, 189 Brethren of Purity, 36

INDEX

bricoleur, 10, 100, 101, 103, 112, 117 Britain, British, 6, 10, 122, 123, 125, 126, 129 British intelligence, 217 Bukh¯ar¯ı, 31, 48 Bürgel, Johann Christoph, 34, 51 Bush, George W., 215, 216, 219

C Cain, 22 Cairo, 11, 35, 36, 83, 152 camp, 2, 81, 83, 85, 234 Camp X-Ray, 219 Canada, 192, 193 captive, 2, 12, 80, 215–219, 222, 225, 226, 228–234 carceral geography, 216, 217, 221 Catalonia, Catalan, 10, 100, 103–108, 111–114, 116 Catholic, 110, 139 cautery, 48, 50 CD, 102 cell, 218 cell phone, 84 certainty, 53 Chabbi, Jacqueline, 164, 179 charlatanism, 101 charm, 82 childbed, 29, 31 children, 24, 25, 31, 82, 83, 90, 103, 114, 125, 135, 141, 226 Christian, Christianity, 17, 70, 220, 224 CIA, 216, 217, 222, 231 clay, 19, 23, 71, 75, 186, 219 clinic, 83 cock, 32 Cohen, Emma, 189, 190, 197–199, 202, 204, 206 Comaroff, Joshua, 215, 216, 219

243

combatant, 216 commentary, commentaries [of the Quran], 4, 9, 36, 65, 69, 72 Companion, of the Prophet, 51, 52, 55, 59, 74 Competence Centre for Transcultural Psychiatry, CTP, 193–196, 201–203 computer, 84, 110 Conermann, Stephan, 51 confinement, solitary, 217, 229, 230 confused, confusion, 24, 53, 57, 66, 229 Connell, James, 217, 218, 221, 232–234 control, 32, 66, 93, 102, 107, 110, 112, 115, 133, 134, 137, 138, 141–148, 153, 158, 159, 188, 196, 200, 202, 219, 224, 225, 228 Copenhagen, 11, 193, 195, 196, 199 cosmography, 5 counseling, 10 cover, 8, 31, 57, 92, 189, 190, 203, 204, 206, 208, 218 Crapanzano, Vincent, 95, 116 crisis, 10, 113, 116, 122, 124, 129, 137, 145, 147 Crosby, Sandra, 226, 227 Csordas, Thomas, 138, 141 Cuba, 12, 215, 217, 222 cupping, 48, 50, 82, 84, 124, 148 cursed, 88, 90, 93 D dal¯ıl, religious indicator, 73 Damascus, Damascene, 2, 35, 46, 49, 57, 80, 81, 83, 90 Dam¯ır¯ı, Muhammad, 18, 24, 29, 35 Danish, 133 d.arb. See beating; hitting d.arb ‘ashw¯ a’¯ı. See sudden hitting

244

INDEX

Day, of Judgment, Day of Resurrection, Judgment Day, Last Day, 18, 65 Dein, Simon, 2, 6, 121, 169–173, 179, 186, 187, 220 delusion, delusional, 19, 172, 202, 203, 205, 221, 226, 228 demon, demonic, demonology, 2, 5, 7, 8, 17–23, 25–36, 38, 39, 46, 60, 70, 164, 220, 223 Denmark, 2, 6, 133, 141, 163, 190, 192 Deobandi, 125, 126 depression, 7, 113, 123, 137, 186, 191, 194, 230, 231 Desjarlais, Robert, 138 de Smet, Daniel, 25 detention, detainee, 2, 215–218, 221, 226, 228, 229, 233 devil, 24, 28, 67, 69, 83, 154, 194, 195 al-Dhahab¯ı, 49, 60 diagnosis, diagnostic, 10, 74, 110, 112, 117, 134–136, 188, 190, 194, 196, 199, 201, 204–206, 208, 221, 228, 232 diagnostic analysis or revelation, 78 disease, 46–51, 53, 54, 57, 58, 60, 74, 115, 129, 159, 171 diseases of the heart, 53, 60 dissociation, dissociative, 158, 188, 195 Dissociative Identity Disorder, DID, 159, 188, 189, 200–202, 206, 209 distress, 7, 11, 12, 155, 187–190, 193, 197, 202–204, 206–208, 232 divination, 33, 36, 111 divine, 46, 52, 53, 55–57, 59, 60, 80, 84, 94, 219 divine blessing, 50

divine charm or magic, 50 divine remedies, 50 divorce, 79, 83, 85, 86, 93, 94, 131, 132, 142, 152, 157, 159 d¯ıw, 39 dog, 30, 38, 70, 114, 140 Dole, Christopher, 177 Dols, Michael Walters, 6, 25, 46, 48, 49, 51, 56 Dorpmüller, Sabine, 82 doubt, 20, 53, 68, 93 dream, dreamer, 88, 89, 92, 108, 117, 140, 190–192, 196, 198, 201, 225 du ¯ a . See spiritual invocation Dutch, 175 E egg, 24 Egypt, Egyptian, 3, 11, 34, 35, 67, 71, 72, 92, 151–153, 157, 192, 215 Eilers, Wilhelm, 29 El Kholy, Heba, 11 enemy combatant, 216 England, 6, 122, 125, 225 enhanced interrogation techniques, 217 enter, entering the human body, 8, 9, 66, 68, 112, 233 envy, 56, 61, 101 enwinded, 66 epilepsy, epileptic, 9, 46, 47, 53–61, 66, 73 epilepsy of humors, 54 epilepsy of spirits, 54, 57 ethnic-minority, 202, 205 ethnopsychiatry, 6 Europe, European, 2, 10, 91, 100–103, 112, 114, 115, 117, 126, 171, 177, 178, 180 Evans-Pritchard, Edward, 111

INDEX

Eve, 22, 36 evil, 54, 56, 60, 67, 78, 92, 101, 115, 123, 136, 144, 147, 164, 186, 220, 232 Evil Eye, evil eye, 6, 9, 50, 51, 78, 86, 90, 101, 110, 111, 187, 196, 205, 207, 220 Ewing, Katherine, 78 exegesis, 68 exorcism, exorcise, 55, 59, 66, 88, 92, 132, 160, 229, 230

F Facebook, 114, 124 Fahd, Toufic, 22, 24, 25, 36, 186 fairies, 19, 39 Faisalabad, 222 faith, 3, 6, 59, 60, 129, 130, 144, 145, 174 family, families, 7, 74, 82, 83, 88, 89, 92, 101, 103, 105, 106, 108–110, 112–114, 125, 130, 132–137, 140, 142, 148, 152, 172, 174, 194, 201, 217, 221, 229–231 fantastic creatures, 27 faq¯ıh, pl. fuqah¯ a , 100, 106, 108. See also scholar Fartacek, Gebhard, 4, 25, 30, 79, 94 al-f¯ atih.a, the first chapter of the Quran, 50 Fazel, Mina, 170, 179 fear, 8, 17, 19, 31, 60, 82, 86, 113, 115, 125, 135, 164, 171, 178, 187, 191, 196, 200, 229, 232, 233 Federal Bureau of Investigation, FBI, 218 feeling, 7, 20, 56, 91, 107, 138, 142, 147, 174, 198, 199, 207

245

female, 6, 11, 28, 29, 32, 35, 39, 55, 151–154, 158–160, 218, 220, 224, 225 feminist, 11, 153–157, 159 fieldwork, 77, 94, 100, 102, 112, 113, 116, 121, 132, 145, 151 Fifth Amendment, 226 Finland, 169, 171 fire (of hell), 127, 196 the first chapter of the Quran, 50 flame, smokeless, 23 flashbacks, 194, 195, 199 follower, of the Prophet, 46 food, 50, 52, 101, 130 force-feeding, 226 forcible cell extractions, 226 fuqah¯ a’ . See faq¯ıh

G Gabriel, 34 Galen, Galenic, 47, 94 gender, 4, 6, 10, 11, 29, 99, 115, 153, 154, 165, 171, 178, 206, 220 Geneva Conventions, 216 Germany, 2, 45, 192, 234 Gerritsen, Annette, 6, 170 al-ghayb. See unseen ghost detainees, 12, 217 ghosts, 1, 5, 230 gh¯ ul (pl. gh¯ıl¯ an, aghw¯ al ), 19, 28 Global War on Terrorism, 7, 12, 215, 216, 219, 226, 228 Gluckman, Max, 111 God, 21–26, 30, 46, 51–55, 58, 60, 67–74, 77, 87, 91, 109, 114, 123, 128, 130, 131, 133, 139–141, 143, 145–147, 186, 225 Goffman, Erving, 216, 218, 219 Goldziher, Ignaz, 19, 25

246

INDEX

the Gospels, 70, 139 Graeco-Arabic, 47, 48, 59 Greek, 5, 46, 47, 94 Guantanamo, 12, 233, 234 Guantanamo Bay Detention Facility, GTMO, 12, 215–219, 221, 222, 225–227, 229–234 Guantanamo Diary, 218 Guthrie, Elspeth, 224, 232

H h.ad¯ıth, Hadith. See tradition H ur ad-D¯ın, 18, 21, 24, 33, . alab¯ı, N¯ 35 h.al¯ al . See lawful half, halfling, 28, 47 hallucinations, 172, 186, 190, 191, 198, 199, 201–204, 207, 221, 228–230 Hamad¯an¯ı-T.u¯ s¯ı, Muhammad, 18, 19, 28, 35 al-H . amaw¯ı, Al¯ı Ibn Abd al-Kar¯ım, 49 Hanbali, H . anbal¯ı, 9, 18, 46, 49, 50, 52, 59, 60 H . aqq¯ı, Ism¯a‘¯ıl, 68 h.ar¯ am, illicit, 102 Harut and Marut, Har¯ ut and Mar¯ ut, 80 h¯ atif . See belief in voices of otherwise invisible beings headache, 86, 114, 186, 187, 194, 197, 207 healer, spiritual, 9, 78, 79, 83, 93, 179, 187, 200, 207, 208 healing, 6–11, 46, 50, 52, 53, 55, 59, 78, 79, 84, 99–104, 106, 112–115, 117, 123, 124, 126–128, 130, 131, 136–139, 141, 142, 144, 146, 147, 177, 178, 208

health, mental, 2–4, 6, 8, 11, 122, 145, 154, 164, 165, 170–176, 188, 189, 194, 205, 208, 216, 229, 230, 232, 233 health professional, 2, 3, 7, 12, 153, 178 heaven, 54, 91, 186 hell, 31, 186, 196, 200, 202 Henninger, Joseph, 26, 27, 38 Hentschel, Kornelius, 6, 25, 29 hidden, 19, 26, 71, 93, 101, 105, 114 high-value detainee, 218 h.ij¯ ab. See cover; magic formula; talisman h.ij¯ ama, hij¯ ama. See cupping Hindu, 125, 224 Hippocrates, 47 Hoffer, Cor, 102 Holy Spirit, 34 hostility, 21, 22 house, 27, 90, 102, 108, 110, 111, 131, 140, 173, 195 house jinn, 27 house spirit, 27, 37 humankind, humans, 4, 9, 17, 19, 21–23, 26, 27, 29, 30, 56, 69, 88, 89, 92, 117, 132, 139, 143, 146, 164, 186, 190, 220, 224 Human Rights Watch, 219, 229 humoral, humoralism, humors, 5, 9, 20, 46–53, 59–61, 75, 111 Hurayra, Ab¯u, 22 H . usain Abd al-Q¯adir, 231 al-Husayn, Imam, 80, 84 husband, 83, 85–87, 89, 93, 94, 109, 113, 114, 141, 152, 155–159 hyperactivity, 221 hysteria, 11, 153 I Ibl¯ıs, Iblis, 21–25, 28, 31, 36, 186 Ibn Abb¯as, 23

INDEX

Ibn ‘Abd al-Sal¯am, ‘Izz al-D¯ın, 70 Ibn ‘Arafa al-M¯alik¯ı, 73 Ibn al-Qayyim, Ibn Qayyim alJawziyya, 9, 45–47, 49–60, 116 Ibn al-Sunn¯ı al-D¯ınawar¯ı, 49 Ibn H . azm, 69 Ibn Kath¯ır, 68 Ibn Khald¯ un, 33, 34, 39 Ibn M¯aja, 48, 49 Ibn Muflih., 49, 60 Ibn S¯ın¯a, Ibn Sina, 47, 49, 50 Ibn Taymiyya, 18, 26, 35, 37, 55–57, 68 Ibsh¯ıh¯ı, 24 ifr¯ıt, powerful demon, 32, 33 Ikhw¯an as.-S.af¯a. See Brethren of Purity illicit, 9, 123, 138, 145, 148 illness, 7, 9, 29, 32, 51, 60, 74, 82, 121, 124, 143, 146, 148, 164, 172, 173, 175, 177, 178, 189, 198, 232 imagination, imagery, 20, 78, 186, 191, 200 imam, 60, 104–107, 109, 112, 122–124, 137, 173, 174, 192, 199, 207, 208 immigrant, 169, 171, 178, 179 immoral, 55, 122, 134, 138 impure, 86 incantation, 22, 57, 82, 85, 126, 127 incubus phenomenon, 190, 191, 198–200, 203 India, 71, 125, 222 Infallibles, 84, 85, 94 infertility, 32, 82, 186, 187 infusion, 111, 112 ins . See humankind, humans insane, 8, 187 insomnia, 114, 221, 229 Instagram, 102, 124, 148 Internally Displaced Persons, IDPs, 81

247

International Committee of the Red Cross, ICRC, 2, 216, 217, 229, 233 internment, 2, 221 interrogation, interrogated, interrogator, 12, 215, 217, 218, 222, 229, 231, 233, 234 intrusion (of the human body), 9 invisible, 26, 27, 37, 56, 92, 108, 142, 164, 206, 220 Iranian Revolution, 80 Iran, Iranian, 23, 34, 79–81, 84, 170, 193, 194 Iraq, Iraqi, 9, 10, 36, 79–83, 92, 193, 216, 218 al-Is.fah¯an¯ı, Ab¯u Nuaym, 49 Islamic, 179 Islamic Studies, 1, 2, 12, 45, 151 Israeli, 221 Ivrit, 221 J Jafar-i Badakhsh¯ı, 26 j¯ ahiliyya. See advent of Islam J¯ah.iz., ‘Amr al-, 19, 20, 27, 28, 33, 34, 36, 39 Jalal, Baland, 190–192, 198 al-Jawz¯ı, Ibn, 49 al-Jaz¯a’ir¯ı, Ab¯ u Bakr, 69 jealous, jealousy, 86, 92, 136, 220 Jew, Jewish, 25, 31, 88, 109, 220, 221 Jihad, 223, 224, 234 Jihad Abu Wa’el Dhiab, 226, 231 jin¯ an al-buy¯ ut . See house jinn jinn¯ıya. See male jinn¯ı jinn¯ıya, jinniyya, female jinn¯ı, 32, 35, 89, 92, 152, 159 jinn living together with humans, 27, 28 Johnsdotter, Sara, 6, 169–172, 174, 176–179

248

INDEX

Jordan, 215 Judaism, 22, 23 jujube, 111, 112 jun¯ un. See mad, madness al-Juwayn¯ı, 67

K k¯ afir. See unbelief, unbeliever k¯ ahin, pl. kuhh¯ an. See soothsayer k¯ al¯ a j¯ ad¯ u . See black magic Kandahar, 219, 234 Karbalai, Basim, 84, 94 kashsh¯ af . See diagnostic analysis or revelation Keram, Emily, 230, 231 Khal¯ıfa. See vice regent Khamenei, ‘Ali, 81 Khiy¯ al, khiy¯ al-b¯ az¯ı. See imagination, imagery Khomeini, Ayatollah, 81 kinship, 102, 107, 115, 130, 134–137, 142, 144, 148 Kirmayer, Laurence, 157, 206 Kompetencecenter for Transkultural Psykiatrie, 11 Koran. See Quran, Qur’an, Qur’¯an, Quranic Krawietz, Birgit, 2, 26, 50, 52, 56, 57, 61, 66, 74, 89, 187, 220, 225, 234 kufr. See unbelief, unbeliever Kuitinnen, Saija, 171

L Langermann, Tzvi, 51 lawful, 102, 134, 135 learned helplessness, 217 Lebanese, 3, 80 lesbian, 89 light, 23, 70, 126, 219

Lim, Anastasia, 6, 172, 186, 187, 198, 220, 221 liminal, liminality, 30–32, 165, 216, 219, 221, 228 Lindquist, Galina, 137, 141 literalistic, 46 literal meaning, 72 London, 170, 172 loneliness, 20 love, 6, 56, 84, 87, 89, 140 lust, 53 M ma ¯ ad al-abd¯ an. See bodily resurrection on the Last Day mad, madness, 6, 11, 33, 66, 70, 72, 74, 121, 145, 151, 154, 232 Maghreb, 10, 71, 101, 107, 108 magic formula, 86 magic, magician, 3, 10, 57, 78–80, 82–84, 87, 90, 93, 94, 101, 123, 131, 132, 137, 144, 148, 187, 202 al-Majlis¯ı, B¯aqir, 94 majn¯ un. See mad, madness makhb¯ ul . See confused, confusion mal ak, pl. mal¯ a ika. See angel malb¯ us . See enwinded male, 6, 10, 29, 94, 154, 156, 158, 174, 218, 220, 232 male jinn¯ı, 29 Mamluk, 51 marriage, married, marry, marital, 31, 85, 89, 91–93, 100, 108, 109, 114, 117, 123, 130–136, 138, 141, 142, 144, 147, 152, 154, 157–159, 164, 186, 194, 226 Masu¯ d¯ı, Al¯ı al-, 19, 28, 29, 36 mas.r¯ u . See epilepsy, epileptic mass . See touch, touching; mad, madness Mawlay ‘Abdeslam, 104, 105

INDEX

Mecca, 84, 91 medical doctor, 78, 194–196, 201–203, 207 medicine, 46, 50, 52, 53, 59, 60, 74, 84, 92, 131, 177, 234. See also humoral; Prophetic Medicine medicine, Islamic, 7, 10, 11, 47, 100–102, 115, 117 Medicine of the Imams, 9 Meier, Fritz, 17, 20, 24, 26, 27, 29, 36–39 memory, 105, 130, 188, 189, 196, 201, 204 mental health, 2–4, 6, 8, 11, 122, 145, 154, 164, 165, 170–176, 188, 189, 194, 205, 208, 229, 230, 232, 233 mental healthcare, 232 mental illness, 7, 11, 121, 137, 163, 164, 170, 171, 174, 176, 178, 233 microbe, 71, 117 Middle East, 2, 3, 8, 12, 60, 71, 225 Middle Period, 8 migration, 3, 4, 6, 7, 11, 99, 100, 124, 125, 170, 178 miracle, 55, 107 the mission of the Prophet Muh.ammad, 18 Mittermaier, Amira, 78 money, 74, 88, 92, 94 moral, morality, 4, 8, 10, 30, 32, 50, 99, 102, 122, 123, 129, 133, 139, 140, 158 Morocco, Moroccan, 6, 10, 100–104, 106–108, 111, 113–117 mosque, 3, 104, 108, 122–125, 145, 146, 195, 196, 200, 207 Mountain Q¯af, 31 al-mu awwidhat¯ an, 50, 55, 71

249

Muhammad, Muh.ammad, the Prophet, 48, 51, 54–56, 59, 60, 74, 94, 101, 116, 123, 126 Muh.arram, 80, 94 mujahid, pl. mujahideen, 222 mujtahid, 94 munya. See wishful ideas Muslim, 2–4, 6–9, 11, 12, 17, 18, 27, 30, 32–34, 50, 52, 60, 67, 68, 71, 74, 84, 89, 100, 101, 103, 108, 110, 112, 113, 115, 121–123, 125, 126, 129, 131, 133, 134, 137, 140, 144, 145, 147, 148, 164, 169, 173, 174, 176, 186, 189, 194, 205, 208, 217, 218, 220, 221, 224, 229, 232 Mu‘tazila, 67, 69, 72, 73 muteness, 197 N n¯ ar. See fire (of hell) nasogastric tube, 226 al-Nawaw¯ı, 72 Nelson, Cynthia, 151–153, 158 Netherlands, 169, 170, 174 Newman, Andrew, 94 New York Times, 229, 232 night, 20, 30–32, 38, 91, 109, 192, 194, 198 night-mare, nightmare, 32, 185, 187, 190–195, 197, 198, 224, 232 al-N¯ıs¯ab¯ ur¯ı, Ab¯ u Bakr Ibn al-Mundhir, 69 Niz.¯am¯ı, 19, 20, 29, 30, 32, 36, 38, 39 non-state actor, 217 noon, 31, 111 North Africa, 11 nudity, 217, 218, 230 al-Nu‘m¯an¯ı, Sir¯aj al-D¯ın, 72 n¯ ur. See light

250

INDEX

O Obama, 226 occult, 89, 101, 142, 144 Ocean, 24, 30 Odense, 2, 12, 163 olive branch, olive wood, 104, 109–111 Ong, Aihwa, 160 orthodoxy, orthodox, 20, 57, 101, 102

P Pakistan, Pakistani, 12, 122, 125, 126, 129, 130, 132, 133, 148, 169, 175, 218, 222, 225, 231 Palestinian, Palestine, 59, 81, 83, 85, 88, 89, 92, 193, 218, 222, 231 Paradise, 22, 26, 31, 36, 54, 56 paranoia, paranoid, 201, 208, 229 Paret, Rudi, 93 par¯ı. See fairies patience, 13, 51, 53, 54, 123, 138, 143, 144 patriarchy, patriarchal, 6, 11, 153–155, 157 Pentagon, 226 Perho, Irmeli, 6, 46–51, 53, 58, 61 Periodic Review Board, 230 Persian, 5, 6, 8, 28, 29, 34, 36, 39 philosophy, 7, 36 physical appearance, 26, 28 physical diseases, 53 physician, 55, 58–60, 226 Pielow, Dorothee, 26, 29, 31, 37 Pir, 131, 132 play, 20, 47, 78, 134, 138, 174, 177 poet, poetry, 5, 6, 17, 33, 34, 36 polytheism, 21, 56, 131 the Pope, 223, 224 to possess, possession (executive, pathogenic), jinn possession, 6,

12, 69, 73, 113, 122, 130, 144, 145, 148, 151–153, 157–160, 187, 189, 190, 193, 196–200, 202, 204, 206 Possession Trance Disorder, PTD, 188, 189, 200–202, 209 postclassical. See Middle Period posttraumatic stress disorder, PTSD, 7, 191, 193–195, 199, 230 prayer, 28, 50, 81, 91, 92, 124, 128, 129, 132, 135, 137, 143–146, 218, 221, 222 pre-Islamic, 5, 22, 23, 33, 34 prisoner-of-war-status, 216 prison, prisoner, 21, 221, 233 Prophet. See Muhammad, Muh.ammad, the Prophet Prophet’s medicine, 45–51, 55, 57, 61 prophethood, 55 Prophetic Medicine, Medicine of the Prophet, 5, 6, 9, 46, 48, 50, 51, 59, 61, 101, 112, 116, 124 prophylaxis, 52 protection, 6, 22, 87, 92, 116, 131 psychiatrist, psychiatry, psychiatric, 1, 5, 6, 8, 11, 129, 137, 143, 146, 155, 173, 203–205, 207, 227, 230, 231 psychology, psychological, 1, 2, 8, 11, 19, 20, 46, 74, 102, 113, 128, 129, 143, 160, 165, 171–176, 189, 227, 229, 231–234 psychosomatic, 171 psychotic disorder, 172, 221 psychotic, psychosis, 172, 174, 175, 187, 194, 198, 201–205, 227, 229 punishment, divine, 46, 60, 61, 127, 223 Punjab, Punjabi, 129, 130, 132, 133

INDEX

Q Qadariyya, 67 al-Qahtani, Muhammad, 229–231 al-Qa‘ida, 215, 216, 222 al-Q¯asim¯ı, Jam¯al al-D¯ın, 71 Qazw¯ın¯ı, Zakariyy¯a al-, 18, 23, 25, 28–30, 32, 35 Queen of Sheba, 5, 32 Quran, Qur’an, Qur’¯an, Quranic, 4, 9, 18, 19, 21, 23–25, 28, 29, 32, 46, 48, 50, 52, 55, 56, 60, 65, 67–75, 79, 84–86, 90, 92, 100–102, 105, 107–109, 116, 122–124, 127, 128, 131, 148, 152, 164, 171, 186, 187, 190, 192, 194, 195, 207, 218–221, 223, 231, 233 al-Qurt.ub¯ı, Abd al-Malik, 48 al-Qurt.ub¯ı, Ab¯ u ‘Abdall¯ah, 70, 71 R Rachik, Hassan, 117 al-R¯aghib al-Is.fah¯an¯ı, 69 Ramadan, 31, 83, 194 rape, raping, 11, 195, 199, 224 al-r¯ aq¯ı. See religious healers al-R¯az¯ı, Rhazes, 47, 49 rationalism, rationalist, 51, 53, 59 real existence, 18, 20, 35, 36 reason, 47, 52, 54–56, 67, 70, 72, 89, 109, 114, 123, 136, 139, 145, 154, 178, 220, 224, 234 recitation, 50, 70, 92, 100, 105, 106, 109, 112, 114, 116, 124, 127, 128, 136, 143, 145, 192, 194, 195, 221, 223 Redfield, Robert, 4 refugee, 2, 7, 10, 78, 91, 169–171, 193, 199 re-Islamization, 101, 102 relationship, 4, 47, 57, 78, 85, 86, 88–90, 92, 100–102, 107, 113,

251

130, 154, 164, 170, 172, 176, 187, 205 reliance in God, 138 religious healers, 123, 124, 126, 148, 177 religious indicator, 73 religious scholar, 59 rendition, 7, 217, 230 resistance, 126, 153, 160 Resurrection. See Day, of Judgment, Day of Resurrection, Judgment Day, Last Day revelation, 18, 20, 23, 33, 34, 52, 85 revival, 99, 100, 103, 115, 124, 152 ris¯ alat an-nab¯ı. See the mission of the Prophet Muh.ammad ritual, 88, 89, 101, 102, 106, 107, 109, 111–116, 141, 142, 145, 218 Rosecran, Shay, 232 Rubin, Uri, 55 r¯ uh. al-qudus . See Holy Spirit ruqya. See sharia-compliant incantation ruqya il¯ ahiyya. See divine charm or magic Rytter, Mikkel, 6, 133–136, 148

S Saar, Eric, 216 .sabr. See patience sacred, 39, 52, 60 Said, Edward, 5 Salafi, 6 at . See prayer .sal¯ al-Sam‘¯an¯ı, Ab¯u al-Muz.affar, 69 al-Samarqand¯ı, Ab¯ u al-Layth, 69 S.anawbar¯ı, 31, 32, 38 .sar . See epilepsy, epileptic a.t. See epilepsy of humors .sar  al-akhl¯ ah.. See epilepsy of spirits .sar  al-arw¯

252

INDEX

satan, Satan, satans, satanic, 22–25, 27, 31, 34, 37, 56, 65, 68, 70, 72, 73, 123, 199, 220 Saudi, Saudi Arabia, 3, 65, 222, 225 Savage-Smith, Emilie, 47, 48, 61 Sayyida Zaynab, 9, 77, 79–83 Sayyid Muhsin al-Amin, 81 schizophrenia, 172, 194, 201, 202, 207, 230, 232 scholar, 2, 3, 9, 18–20, 23, 26, 33, 35, 36, 46, 48, 52, 68, 71, 74, 81, 89, 124, 125, 164, 178, 179, 186 Schöller, Marco, 25 seizure, 46, 54, 56, 57, 172, 221, 227 self-cultivation, 141 self-mutilation, 172, 229 sensory perception, 26 September 11, 215, 216, 229 sex, sexual, sexuality, 10, 88, 89, 92, 109, 115, 134, 146, 156–158, 190 shah¯ ada, 108 shahwa. See lust sh¯ a ir, pl. shu ar¯ a . See poet, poetry Shakhrukh Hamiduva, 228, 231 shame, 132, 207, 232 shape, change of, 26, 27, 56 al-Sha‘r¯aw¯ı, Muh.ammad Mutawall¯ı, 71 al-Shawk¯an¯ı, 68, 71 al-Shibl¯ı, Badr al-D¯ın, 37, 67, 89 sharia-compliant incantation, 9 Sharia, sharia, shar¯ıa, 2, 18, 50, 54, 56, 58, 67 Sharifian, 104, 105, 115, 116 Sharo Hasda, 228 sha wadha. See charlatanism shay¯ a.t¯ın, sg. shayt.¯ an. See satan, Satan, satans, satanic shaykh, 78, 79, 83–91, 93, 221

Shiite, Shi‘i, Shi‘ism, Shia, 2, 9, 10, 80, 81, 83, 84, 94, 95 shiqq. See half, halfling shirk. See polytheism shrine, 79–83, 94 shubha. See doubt; confused, confusion sidr. See jujube sih.r. See black magic sin, 46, 129, 203 Slahi, Mohamedou, 218 sleep, 172, 191, 193, 217 sleep paralysis, SP, 190–193, 198–200, 203, 204 smoke, 23, 172 snake, 27, 29, 37, 56 solitary confinement, 217, 229, 230 Solomon, King, 5, 25, 29–32, 80 Somali, Somalia, 169–172, 174, 176 somatic complaint, 221 soothsayer, 33 sorcery, 51 soul, 50, 53, 54, 57, 58, 66, 70, 80 South Asian, 10, 123–126, 133, 148 Spain, 10, 99 speaking in tongues, 68, 221 specialists of the shar¯ıa, 19 spirit, spirits, spiritual, 1, 2, 5, 6, 9–11, 22, 23, 25, 39, 52–58, 60, 61, 68, 71, 77–79, 82, 83, 93, 103, 105, 114, 121, 122, 124, 129, 130, 153, 186–190, 196–198, 200, 204–207, 218, 230, 231 spiritual invocation, 50 state actor, 217 Stichweh, Rudolf, 5 Strasser, Sabine, 4, 151, 152 Strathern, Marilyn, 135 strict monotheism, 21 sub-Saharan Africa, 11 substance, 23, 48, 50, 52, 86, 93, 102, 111, 112

INDEX

Sufi, Sufism, 51, 103, 104, 107, 126, 130, 133 Suhr, Christian, 6, 141, 142 suicide, suicidal, 112, 203 Sündermann, Katja, 6, 79, 83, 221 sunna, Sunna, 4, 18, 19, 28, 34, 46, 48, 52, 60, 67, 69, 70, 72, 123, 148, 187 Sunni, 2, 45, 83, 89, 193, 195 supernatural, 11, 47, 130, 164, 171, 174, 175, 177, 192, 221, 230 superstition, 104, 122, 152 Sura. See verse, of the Quran al-Suy¯ ut.¯ı, Jal¯al al-D¯ın, 35, 49, 69 Sweden, 169, 171, 174 symptom, 12, 46, 49, 54, 57, 58, 123, 130, 172, 173, 187, 189, 191, 194, 195, 197–204, 206–208, 221, 227, 228, 230–232 symptomatology, 227 syncretic, 10 Syriac, 47, 85 Syria, Syrian, 2, 7, 9, 29, 59, 67, 79–83, 91, 193, 215 T T.abar¯ı, 21, 23, 29, 36 al-T.abar¯ı, Muh.ammad b. Jar¯ır, 36, 69 t¯ abi , T¯abia, 31, 32 taboo, 155 takhayyul . See fantastic creatures Taliban, 194, 216 talisman, 9, 88. See also amulet Tangier, 100, 104, 107, 113 T.ant.¯aw¯ı, Muh.ammad Sayyid, 67, 72, 73 Taussig, Michael, 78, 87 tawakkul , 51, 138 tawh.¯ıd. See unity of Allah; strict monotheism t¯ aw¯ız. See amulets with religious writings

253

television, 93, 108 temptation, 20, 148, 220 Tetouan, 100, 102, 104, 110, 112, 116, 117 text, 18, 20, 24, 33–38, 45, 47–49, 51, 55, 60, 65, 74, 89, 94, 101, 104, 105, 114, 116 Tha¯alib¯ı, 34 al-Tha‘lab¯ı, Ab¯ u Ish.¯aq, 69 Thailand, 218, 222 the Throne verse, 55, 187 .tibb. See medicine .tibb al-nab¯ı, al-t.ibb al-nabaw¯ı, .tibb al-ras¯ ul . See Prophet’s medicine al-T.¯ıb¯ı, Sharaf al-D¯ın, 73 Tora Bora, 229 torture, tortured, 7, 12, 195, 215– 219, 221, 222, 229–231, 233, 234 touch, touching, 66, 69, 74, 186, 187, 198, 220 tradition, 4, 5, 10, 34, 37, 48, 49, 52–54, 68, 100, 115, 126, 133, 139, 147, 154, 164, 189 traditionalist, 45, 49–51, 58, 61, 122, 126, 138 tradition, Prophetic, 22, 53, 58, 59 trance, 6, 109, 189, 201, 204 transcultural, 1, 5, 6 transformation, transformative, 3, 27, 115, 127, 140, 141, 146, 147, 173 transgressive, 66, 158 transnationality, transnational, 10, 99–104, 113–115, 133 trauma, traumatic, 11, 81, 113, 124, 159, 160, 194, 199, 201, 207 trustful patience, 50 Tunisia, 195 Turkey, Turkish, 5, 152, 177 Twitter, 7, 102, 114 the two protecting ones, 50

254

INDEX

U Uganda, 198 Umar Ibn al-Khat.t.¯ab, 29 unbelief, unbeliever, 18, 56, 73 United Kingdom, UK, 124–126, 130, 148, 169–172, 174–176, 218 United States District Court for the District of Columbia, 227, 228 United States, US, 215–219, 221, 222, 226, 228–230, 232–234 unity of Allah, 18 unseen, 2, 127, 128, 143, 186, 198, 205, 219, 220 Uruguay, 226 US Department of Defense, 232 al-‘Uthaym¯ın, Muh.ammad Ibn S.¯alih., 66 Uzbek, 228 Uzbekistan, 225, 234 V van Duijl, 198 venesection, 48 verse, of the Quran, 26, 55 vice regent, 21, 24 video, 84 violence, 7, 11, 81, 127, 147, 155, 158, 159, 231 visible, visibility, 26, 37, 67, 173, 174, 186, 190, 220 voice, 28, 72, 109, 127, 145, 156, 172, 188, 189, 195, 199, 202, 223 W wah.da. See loneliness wah.sha. See loneliness; alienation war, 6, 7, 81, 82, 186, 194, 221, 231 waswasa, wasw¯ as . See whispering, foul; temptation

water, 31, 50, 86, 88, 90, 104, 105, 108, 112, 117, 187 waterboarding, 217, 230, 233 Wellhausen, Julius, 26–28, 38 Wessel, Felix, 9, 45, 75, 116 West Bank, 221 Westermarck, Edward, 26, 29, 117 whirlwind, 27, 29, 114 whispering, foul, 67 Wieland, Almut, 25, 26, 37, 38 wind, 29, 32, 68 Winkler, Hans Alexander, 29, 38 wishful ideas, 20 witchcraft, 3, 6, 111, 117, 231 World Health Organisation, WHO, 177, 202 wrong way of thinking, 19

X Xenakis, Stephen, 226–228

Y yaq¯ın. See certainty Yemen, 29, 32 YouTube, 124, 148, 195

Z z.¯ ahir. See apparent meaning; literal meaning Zamakhshar¯ı, Ab¯ u al-Q¯asim, 21, 68, 71–73 z¯ ar ceremonies, 151, 152, 160 Zayn al-Abidin Muhammad Husain, 222 zoology, zoomorphic, 27 Zubayda, Abu, 12, 218, 222–225, 233