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3
COSMOLOGY

Rather than begin the exposition of Buddhism by discussing `doctrine'
I shall begin with `cosmology'. But what is the difference between doctrine
and cosmology, and how are they connected? And why do I choose the
unorthodox path?

Bishop Copleston, who in some respects was a more sympathetic commentator
on Buddhism than most of his Christian contemporaries, gave
an unexpected answer to a question he posed: to what extent does the
content of the Pali Canon serve for a description of Buddhism in Ceylon
today (i.e. 1890s)? He first divided the contents of the classical literature
into two groups: that which dealt with `the moral system [and] the
human life on which it rests', and that which was composed of `the
legendary histories and the theories of cosmogony and geography'. He
then gave this answer: `The whole being divided into these two groups,
we may assert that the first, the moral, is held now with little alteration;
but that the second, the mass of legends and cosmogony, has been so
greatly developed and raised to so much greater prominence, as to make
the later Buddhism differ widely from the Pitakas' (1892).

Curiously, the first half of the answer, though unorthodox, is probably
true; and the second half, which is conventional, is unduly exaggerated.
Where the Bishop was right in a novel way—against those who saw
a vulgarization of doctrine over time, and in repudiation of the arrogant
claim of some nineteenth-century European scholars that the Sinhalese
`have been content to relearn their own religion' from them—was that
the major concepts and assertions of the Buddhist doctrine cannot drastically
change. Where the Bishop exaggerated in a conventional manner was to
think that a vast gap separates the wild jungle of cosmology and mythology
from the ploughed fields of doctrine: such a view is possible only if it is
thought that doctrine and cosmology have no affinity or similarity of
message contents whatsoever.

There are many versions or Canons of the Buddhist Scriptures—such as
the Sanskrit Canons, Chinese and Tibetan Canons, etc.—but I am concerned
here primarily with the Pali Canon, or more accurately with that
particular recension of the Scriptures of the ancient sect of Vibhajjavadins
that was set down in writing at the Mahavihara monastery in Anuradhapura

in Ceylon around 20 B.C., and was accepted as the true scripture in Burma,
Siam and Cambodia.

The Pali Canon, known as Tripitaka (three baskets), consists of Vinaya
Pitaka (which includes the core Patimokkha rules of discipline); Sutta
Pitaka (the sermons and discourses of the Buddha); and Abhidhamma,
which is later than the Sutta and consists mostly of a complex arrangement
and commentary on the discourses.[1]

It is clear that the components of the Pali Canon were not composed
simultaneously. Lines of growth are visible in the Vinaya and the Sutta.
According to Sinhalese tradition, however, the Canon was fixed at the
Third Council held in the reign of Asoka (c. 272-232 B.C.). The author
of The Questions of Milinda, which book was composed by the beginning
of the Christian era, knew the Canonical books by the names they bear
now. Thus apparently nothing discredits the conclusion that the Pali
Canon was substantially fixed in Asoka's time, so far as the Vinaya and
the Sutta discourses are concerned. Thus it can be said that, despite the
accretion of commentaries which, in any case, must refer to the original
`text', doctrine as such has been transmitted in the southern school
relatively unchanged.

In contrast it is said that Buddhist mythology and cosmology have
grown lush and unrestrained like a wild creeper. It is, however, interesting
to note that the seeds of the full-blown beliefs, myths and cosmologies
of a later period are found in the Pali Canon. The Vinaya and Sutta
Pitaka have many references to supernatural beings and occurrences.
The Khuddaka Nikaya of the Sutta collection contains the Jataka stories
in verse form which are the kernel for the later prose elaborations. Similarly
the skeleton of the pantheon and the framework of the cosmology are
clearly perceived in the Vinaya and Sutta[2] (e.g. Atanatiya Suttanta (Rhys
Davids, Part III, 1957, Ch. 32)).

With the passage of time, the elaborations in the realms of cosmology
and mythical history have been fantastically ornate. The life story of the
Buddha has been enlarged and embellished with many incidents unknown
to the Pitaka: `The details of the Buddha's birth and of his renunciation,

of his visit to his mother in heaven, and of his visits to Ceylon, came
actually to take precedence, in interest and in the poetical wealth laid
out upon them, over the more authentic incidents in the Vinaya (Copleston
1892, p. 422). The theory of a succession of previous Buddhas, which had
its nucleus in the Canon, was developed in time into elaborate accounts
of their lives. Perhaps the most important elaboration in respect of
congregational interest and usefulness for bana instruction are the 550
birth stories of the Buddha, the Jataka collection. Finally there has been
the `boundless field' of cosmogony/cosmology which, with its cycles of
ages, multitude of universes, concentric circles of oceans and cataclysmic
cosmic changes (both big bangs and steady states), has appeared at first
sight to be mere fantasy run wild and away from religion.

But is Buddhist cosmology (and its related mythology) really simply
`the systematizing of the imaginary' which is the `besetting intellectual
sin of India' and the Orient? Is it quite unrelated to the doctrinal and
ethical ideas of Buddhism as most commentators appear to think?

The Encyclopaedia Britannica describes cosmology in the broadest sense
of the word as `that branch of learning which treats of the universe as
an ordered system'. The name is derived from the Greek kosmos (`order',
`harmony', `the world') plus logos (`word', `discourse'). `Cosmology is
that framework of concepts and relations which man erects . . . for the
purpose of bringing descriptive order into the world as a whole, including
himself as one of its elements.' It describes the world in terms of space,
time, matter, motion and causality. (The related questions of inner nature
and purpose are usually relegated to the branches of cosmogony, ontology,
eschatology, etc., but I shall include them here under the cosmological
rubric.)

I would like to suggest that, contrary to the normal practice of ignoring
Buddhist cosmology or relegating it to footnotes, it be seen as providing
a nice entry into the universe of religion. It has many facets: it first of all
gives a picture of the universe in terms of space, time and matter;
secondly, it translates this physical universe into a pantheon of deities,
humans, animals and demons to which can be attributed ethical and
moral qualities; finally, the cosmology gives a dynamic picture of the
nature, workings and purpose of the universe in terms of the motion
of the personifications in the pantheon, this motion up and down (and
bursting out of the universe altogether) being conceived in terms of
ethical and spiritual force and energy. Thus it might be said that the
cosmological scheme says figuratively and in terms of metaphorical images
the same kind of thing which is stated in abstract terms in the doctrine.
The basic doctrinal concepts of Buddhism such as karma (ethical causation),

samsara (cycle of rebirths), nirvana (final extinction), dukka (suffering), etc.,
which are alleged to explain man's predicament and to direct his religious
action, are also embedded in the cosmology (and its associated pantheon).

But what is the advantage of the aid of cosmology in studying religion?
In this monograph I approach religion through ritual and I would like
to suggest that there is a close connection between cosmology and ritual.
Cosmological and supernatural categories are embedded in the rituals
I shall describe; they chart the geography and define the architecture of
sacred space and are expressed in the material symbols that are manipulated
in the rituals. In the rituals we see cosmology in action.

If one may allow oneself the luxury of some aphorisms, it may be said
that ritual is for the practical man what philosophy is for the thinker.
If the saint and the ascetic act upon themselves—their minds and bodies,
and inner states—the layman acts upon the world with the external things
of the world. For the layman ritual acts are outward symbols of interior
state; the ascetic on the other hand performs disciplinary acts directed
inwards upon himself so that he can gain mastery over the outer world.

For all the reasons set out I shall not tread the conventional path by starting
with the definition of basic ethical and doctrinal concepts of Buddhism,
but rather describe first its cosmology and the implications thereof.

The cosmology that I present is an abbreviated version of ideas that
are prevalent in Thailand, Burma and Ceylon and are reported by several
writers (e.g. see De la Loubère 1693, Alabaster 1871, Hardy 1880, Yoe
1896, Monier-Williams 1890). No villager in Baan Phraan Muan is able
to present the details of the total picture in the way I do. But fragments
of and allusions to the traditional cosmology appear in many myths and
rituals, and the ritual experts in the village can in such contexts expound
relevant portions of the lore to the inquirer. Parts of the cosmological
scheme will come to life in some of the rituals and myths documented in
later chapters.

Thailand itself is the home of a cosmological treatise written in 1345
by the heir apparent to the throne of Sukhodaya (who later became
King Lut'ai). This work entitled Trai bhumikatha (`The History of the
Three Worlds'), while written in Siamese, was entirely based on Pali
works (Coedès 1957). It brought together, however, various fragments
and passages in a single work which appears to have been the first systematic
treatise on Buddhist cosmology. It not only contained the traditional
cosmology but also used it as a vehicle for moral dissertations and to
present a picture of monarchy conforming to Buddhist ideals.

Again, in 1776, Phya Tak, who recovered Thailand from the Burmese,
compiled a standard Siamese work on Buddhist cosmology. It was called

Traiphoom, ran to sixty volumes, and was no doubt based on classical
sources (Thompson 1941, p. 624).

Although the Buddhist cosmology in its broad outlines shows much
similarity to the Hindu version, it expresses variations and systematization
in terms of Buddhism's own religious world view. Hence it should be
treated in its own right.

According to Buddhist cosmology, there are innumerable world systems
or galaxies. Each system has its own sun and moon, and its earth containing
continents and oceans, with a mountain in the centre called Mt Meru.
Upwards from the mountain extend the heavens, downwards the hells.
These world systems are periodically destroyed and re-formed in cycles
of vast stretches of time (kalpa)—in modern astro-physics this characterization
would be called the theory of the pulsating universe.

The world system consists of thirty-one planes of existence divided
into three major categories: kama loka (in which there is form and sensual
desire (pleasure and pain)); rupa loka (in which there is form but no
sensual enjoyment, only a kind of intellectual enjoyment); and the arupa
loka (in which there is no perceptible bodily form and no sensation). The
order in which they are presented here is hierarchical from the lowest
to the highest. We may note that the scheme is based on a progression
from corporeality to incorporeality, from body to intellect.

These three major planes of existence subdivide into the thirty-one
more specific planes in a complex manner. And in order to describe the
ordering we must start from the centre of the world system.

Mt Meru stands in the centre of the earth, and it is the pillar of the
world. Between Meru and the great rocky circumference which is the
wall of the earth are alternating concentric circles of seven mountain
ranges and seven oceans. A last (eighth) great ocean adjoining the rim
contains four continents at the cardinal points; the southern continent is
Jambudvipa (which is ours). It is the most sacred in the time cycle in
which Gotama Buddha was born.

`KAMA LOKA'

The kama loka plane of existence expresses the cosmology that is directly
relevant for our study. This plane of bodily form and sensual feelings
is divided into eleven loka: six are heavens inhabited by gods (deva loka);
five are worlds, four of which are inhabited by human beings, animals,
ghosts, and demons. The fifth world consists of eight major (and other subsidiary)
hells, situated in the interior of the earth, in which intense torment
and pain are experienced.

The six heavens (`deva loka')

The first heaven is below the summit of Mt Meru and is the residence
of the four guardians of the world (lokapala). The second heaven (Tavatinsa/
Tawutisa) is on the summit of Mt Meru, over which presides god Sakka
or Indra. These two heavens must, in fact, be taken together because
Indra presides over the four guardians, and together they impinge on
the world of men and animals. In myth and ritual Indra always appears
as the presiding deity.

Around and just below Indra's abode at the summit of Mt Meru are
the four mansions of the world guardians.[3] The palace to the east is that
of Dhrita-rashtra (Dhratarashtra), King of the Gandharvas (choristers
and musicians) who guard the eastern domain of the world and minister
to the pleasure of all gods. They wear white garments and are mounted
on white horses and wield swords and shields of crystal. On the south is
the palace of Virudhaka (Virudha) whose attendants are the Kumbandas,
monsters of immense size and ugly form. They wear blue garments, are
mounted on blue horses, and their swords and shields are made of sapphire.
They guard the southern division of the world. The palace of Virupaksha
stands in the west and he is the King of the Nagas. Their colour is red;
they wear red garments, ride red horses, carry weapons of coral and
flaming torches. They are the guardians of the western portion of the
world. The northern division belongs to Kuvera or Vaisravana (Vessavano),
who rules over the Yakshas; they are adorned in golden garments, ride
horses that shine like gold, etc. The Yakshas in the classical descriptions
are not as malevolent as they have come to be in modern Ceylon. (See
Hardy 1880, pp. 45-7). The Thai represent them in their temples as
enormous and horrible, though recognizably human in form.

In Buddhist mythology the Yakshas and Nagas appear frequently.
In Ceylon the Yakshas, ruled over by Kuvera the god of wealth, have
been elaborated on and transformed into the much-feared malevolent
demons. In Thailand, on the other hand, it is the Nagas who have a special
place.

The Nagas will figure importantly in this study of Thai religion. A brief
introductory note on them is therefore appropriate. They are thought
to reside under the rocks that support Mt Meru and under the waters
of the earth. Their bodies take the shape of serpents. They enjoy the
status of `demi-gods', and in Buddhism are usually represented as favourable
to the religion and its adherents. At the same time they are considered

to be formidable enemies when their wrath is aroused. They are associated
with rain and fertility.

Beyond and higher than the second heaven of Indra are four other
heavens that fall within the definition of kama loka. Of these, only one
need be mentioned here, the fourth called Tusita in which resides the
all-compassionate bodhisattva (Buddha-to-be) Maitreya, awaiting the time
when he will come down into the world of men as the next Buddha and
saviour. The Tusita heaven is regarded as the most delightful of the
heavens, in which all desires are satisfied. In it grows the kalpavriskha
tree (in Thai, Karaphruk or Kamaphruk), which produces fruits of gold,
silver, jewels, etc., that gratify all desires. The tree appears frequently
in Thai rituals and will greet us with its promises at many places in
this book.

The five worlds

The four lower worlds of men, animals, asuras (demons), and ghosts
(preta) stand in contrast to the heavens. While life in the heavens is
unadulterated pleasure, the lower worlds are increasingly painful. Human
beings and animals as forms of life are self-evident and require no commentary
at this stage, but the others do.

The asuras are in Buddhist (and Hindu) mythology the arch opponents
and enemies of the gods. They are demi-gods themselves and are of the
underworld, living under Mt Meru. They have had repeated contests
with the gods of Indra's heaven, and the great representation of this
contest is the churning of the ocean for the nectar of life which the gods
successfully took away from them. This story is represented in both
Hindu and Buddhist architecture, notably in Cambodia at Angkor. The
asuras were finally subdued by Indra, and it is the task of the four guardians
to continue to ward off their attacks. Rahu and Ketu are the much-feared
asuras which swallow the moon and cause eclipses. The asuras as the
classical opponents of the deities have found other expressions in contemporary
South-east Asian countries: devas versus yakka in Ceylon,
versus nats in Burma, versus phii in Thailand.

While the asuras are a permanent category of supernatural being, the
pretas are of a different status. They are ghosts of dead humans who had
recently inhabited the earth. They are condemned to live in a kind of
hell or may wander about on earth, haunting the places they formerly
lived in. Although in themselves not harmful to man, their appearance
and attributes are disgusting. They are of gigantic size, they have dried up
limbs, loose skin, enormous bellies. They continually wander about,
consumed with hunger and thirst, yet are never able to eat or drink

because of their small mouths, constricted throats and the scorching,
boiling heat that emanates from their bodies.

Some writers have seen in pretas the inversion of the Buddhist monk
(Yalman 1964). It is also apposite to point out that the preta condition
of perpetual hunger and thirst may possibly signify the extreme punishment
for withholding food from monks and for being stingy in merit-making.
Despite their sinful condition, it is felt that relatives can and should
transfer to the pretas some of the merit accruing from their merit-making
acts (such as donating gifts of food and other items to the monks).

Finally, the eight major hells of the fifth world are fiery places of
intense misery and pain. One has only to see the murals on the walls of
Buddhist temples in Thailand and Ceylon to understand that hell is no
mere abstract concept but is imagined in all its horror and sadism. In
heaven handsome men and women embrace and walk around in a garden
of wishing trees (kalpavriksha) studded with diamonds and other gems; in
hell one burns in raging fire and one's sides are pierced with weapons
by demons. A Siamese law book (Book of Indra) gives the following
description of heaven (Alabaster 1871, p. 294):

THE `RUPA LOKA' AND `ARUPA LOKA' (`BRAHMA LOKA')

Whereas the six lower deva heavens belong to the domain of form and
sensation (kama loka), there are twenty other, higher heavens.

The next level upwards is that of the rupa loka, consisting of sixteen
heavens where there is form but no sensual enjoyment. Beyond them
are the four arupa heavens with no form at all. These last are of minimal
significance in village myth and ritual.

This brief outline of classical Buddhist mythology contains a number
of significant ideas that are essential to the understanding of Buddhism

as a religion that is not only thought but also lived. One vital conception
is that all the orders of being described are fundamentally homogeneous
or of one kind. There are six forms of existence—god, demon, man,
animal, ghost, soul in hell—whose distinctions are only of temporary
duration and through which all human beings (except those who have
entered the path leading to salvation) may at one time or other pass. The
god may be reborn as demon and an animal as man, etc.; a change of
condition is a realistic possibility depending on one's karma and ethical
status. At any one point of time, the stratification is a statement of a
gradient of pure bliss and tranquillity enjoyed by the gods to black torment
suffered by those in hell. The gods, especially those in the six lower heavens,
exist in subtle corporeal forms. Although they are not omnipotent, they
are capable of beneficial acts towards human beings. They, too, are
subject to the universal law of dissolution and rebirth. They appear in
the cosmology mainly as protectors of the faith, ready to help believers or
to testify to the true doctrine. In turn, the other orders of existence can
descend or go upwards. The ghosts and demons are not perpetually
condemned; they may harm men but they are also subject to the law of
rebirth and can change their status for the better.

This is essential for grasping the Buddhist notions of `this world' and
the `other world', laukika and lokottara. All the levels and forms of
existence so far described belong to `this world': the heavens, the earth,
and the hells; gods, men, beasts, and demons. Canonical Buddhism's
conception of `otherworldliness' is nirvana, the salvation of extinction
from rebirth and existence. Otherworldliness does not simply mean
concerns which transcend the present existence, or rebirth, or existence
in the heavens of devas, but a liberation from sentient existence. Lokottara
means `hypercosmical'. I emphasize the point because some anthropologists
have mistakenly assimilated `rebirth' and the `next' life to the
notion of `otherworldliness'.

A second fundamental idea embodied in this cosmological scheme is
that, in the dynamic hierarchy of sentient existence, it is man in his
human condition living on this earth who is the fundamental acting
agent. It is said that in order to attain nirvana any order of being, even
a god, must be born of a woman in a human status in his last life. Central
to the Buddhist doctrine is that to be born as a human being is a privilege
because it offers the only opportunity for betterment and final liberation
through one's decisive effort. It is in a human status that new karma and
increment to it can be made. A god can merely enjoy the fruits of previous
karma and must be born a human to ascend higher.

A transformation of this relation is expressed again in respect of a

layman (i.e., one who is not a monk) reaching nirvana. While normally it
is a monk alone who may reach the final state, should a layman be on the
threshold of nirvana he should either become a monk or immediately
pass into the state of death (parinibbana). Thus the whole cosmological
system focuses on man as the moral agent, and it holds the possibility
of a complementary relation between man and god on the one side, and
between man and the dark agents on the other. Man can transfer the
fruits of his merit to them; in turn, he can be affected for good or evil
by them. The way is thus open in ritual action for manipulating the
categories and achieving a change of moral state.

While the total cosmological scheme is integrated in this manner, the
scheme also contains a tension or inconsistency or opposition of ideas.
This tension derives basically from the philosophical and doctrinal formulations
and can be simply put thus: if the doctrine of karma gives an
explanation of present suffering and squarely puts the burden of release
on individual effort, then the doctrine that supernatural agents can cause
or relieve suffering and that relief can come through propitiating them
contradicts the karma postulate. Some writers (e.g. Spiro 1967 concerning
Burma) see this tension as a basic inconsistency between Buddhism and
supernaturalism (or animism). While I recognize that this categorical
opposition is present in Thailand, I see it as one which operates within
a total field that expresses other relations as well of complementarity and
hierarchical ordering between Buddhism and the spirit cults. To emphasize
one aspect at the cost of others seems to me to be a partial analysis; to
go further and assert that there are, in fact, two contradictory religions
in uneasy co-existence appears to me to be a misunderstanding.

While we must await the presentation of the Thai data in later chapters
to see that another way of looking at the religious system is possible,
I should like to make a point regarding analytical orientation which
may have a bearing on the question.

Some analysts may take as their point of reference the postulates of
doctrinal Buddhism as the essence and reality of Buddhism, and therefore
also the base line for studying popular Buddhism. This orientation dictates
its methodology and shapes the final conclusions, for the analyst accordingly
seeks to see how `non-doctrinal' facts are adapted, modified and rationalized
in relation to the `doctrinal' ideas. The question is thus prejudged.
Another method is possible and it is more open. While being mindful
of the doctrinal and mythological heritage, we can pay attention to the
total array of religious ideas and rituals as they present themselves and
see the internal relations and distinctions in this total field. The doctrinal
approach is especially mischievous if, as in Spiro's study of Burmese

supernaturalism, the Buddhism contrasted with the nat cults and exorcism
rituals (which are analysed in detail) is not that of the ideas and activities
of the village Buddhist temple and its monks or the rituals performed by
monks (which are conspicuous by their virtual absence in his book), but
a set of tenets drawn almost exclusively from doctrine stated in the Canonical
texts. Furthermore, it is not at all clear whether the alleged inconsistency
of the two religions is a product of the anthropologist's own understanding
of what true Buddhism really is, or is an irresolvable incompatibility
reflected in the ideas and actions of the actors themselves. The Burmese
evidence is unclear; at best it would appear that sophisticated Burmese
are at one level aware of a contradiction, but it is startling to read that
`None of the villagers, however, showed any awareness of the basic
inconsistency...' (Spiro 1967, p. 46). However, one should not throw
out the baby with the bath water. Distinctions, oppositions, complementarities,
linkages and hierarchy do exist in the arrangement of ideas, ritual
idiom, techniques and roles of the practitioners, and the behaviour of
villagers according to context and situation; an exploration of these is
a major task of this book. The anthropologist must find a new way of
relating the past to the present, classical dogma to present ideas.

THE BUDDHA, `BODHISATTVA' AND `ARAHAT'

Those who have broken through the various orders of sentient existence
and have reached (or are about to reach) the liberated state are the Buddhas
and certain lesser others who have entered the path to nirvana.

Three kinds of persons who have attained a supreme religious state
appear significantly in ritual and worship. They are the Buddha, who has
reached nirvana, the bodhisattva who is an embryo Buddha or a Buddha-to-be,
and the arahat, an ascetic who has entered the path and is credited
with miraculous powers.

The Buddha

The achievement of Buddha-hood was not unique to the historical
Gotama. According to Buddhist tradition there have been several Buddhas
in the past, and some twenty-four have appeared in the preceding cycles
of time. In the present aeon or kala, Gotama was the fourth to appear.
He was preceded by Kakusandha, Konagamana and Kassapa.

In the Mahapadana Suttanta (Rhys Davids, Vol. III, Part II, 1910,
Ch. 14) Gotama Buddha is said to have related the histories of the last
seven Buddhas, starting with Vipassi and taking in the four Buddhas of
this aeon including himself. In this account the following features are of

particular interest because they are reflected in one way or another in
the religious life of Thai villagers:

the Buddha manifests the remarkable faculty of remembering past
births, which is attributed to his clear discernment of truth through
personal effort and is also a revelation from the gods;

a Buddha, before he makes his appearance in human form, exists as
a bodhisattva in the heaven of delight and at the proper time descends into
his mother's womb mindful and self-possessed;

in the biography of Vipassi—which was later transferred to the Buddha
himself—it is stated that he was born of royal status, endowed with the thirty-two
marks of the Great Man, and that there were two careers open to him:

Thus it is stated that a world conqueror and a world renouncer are two
sides of the same coin;

the biographies also state, in terms of a time scale, the progressive
shortening of human life and by implication also its degradation. Thus
while the length of life at the epoch in which Vipassi was born was
8,000 years, in this aeon the length of life diminishes successively from
4,000 years at the time of Kakusandha to 100 at the time of Gotama.

This fateful decline, however, is counteracted by the idea that a Buddha
appears from aeon to aeon under similar circumstances to preach a similar
faith, which hopeful message is represented most importantly for contemporary
villagers in the beliefs centring around Maitreya, the next
Buddha to come.

The most important Buddha is, of course, the historical Gotama who
embodies the idea of all Buddhas. And the orientations to this Buddha
in popular Buddhism are complex and paradoxical.

One puzzle is the relation between the Buddha and the gods in the
Buddhist pantheon. The Pitaka (Pali Canon) characterize the Buddha
as omniscient and pure but do not suggest that he is a god; however, they
do represent him as instructing the devas and receiving their homage.
Two transformations took place in institutionalized Buddhism which
can be expressed in terms of the pantheon.

A parallel change took place in respect to the gods. The Canonical
doctrine of the Dhamma had very little to do with the devas, in the sense
that the truths of religion did not depend on them although their existence
was granted; for example, when the Buddha preached in Magadha the
local deities were not considered the personifications of cosmic forces
or the revealers of truth. (In the Kevaddha Sutta, for instance, the Buddha
belittles Brahma and the gods as being ignorant of the answers to certain
basic metaphysical problems; the Digha Nikaya also contains the ironical
account of the origin of gods as being a progressive descent from superior
worlds, while the gods (especially Brahma) have illusions of being the
creators.) The critical change incorporated in the cosmological scheme is
the conversion of deities into protectors of the faith, who take their
place in the karmic scheme. In the Jatakas, for instance, Indra (who, in
the Hindu Vedas, is a demon slayer) is depicted as the heavenly counterpart
of a pious Buddhist king, protector of the religion whose throne grows
hot when a good man is in trouble. From being autonomous powers
gods had now become mediators.

Another puzzle—which is probably of more direct concern to us—is
the dual orientation to the Buddha. On the one hand, the Buddha, a
human being, is dead and has reached nirvana. This being so he cannot
directly affect human beings or influence their future status, because
salvation is a personal quest. On the other hand, the Buddha has been
credited with supernatural powers—when alive he had extraordinary
markings and qualities, and after his death his relics, mahadhatu (which
significantly include jewels, ornaments and the holy texts) have spiritual
power; so do consecrated images. Thus these objects are conceived as
`magical power stations' and have been associated with rain-making
ceremonies in Ceylon (Geiger 1960) and Thailand (Wales 1931).

The following facts drawn from the literature on Buddhist traditions
might help in the solution of this problem. A passage written by Hardy
(1860) vividly describes the worshipper's relation to the Buddha; the
description is as valid today as it was for the last century; it could apply
equally well to Ceylon, Burma, or Thailand.

The problem of the inconsistency of worshipping an extinct being and
of soliciting the aid of an external agent in a religion which doctrinally
maintains that salvation is the product of a personal quest and striving
is a classical one. It was one of the dilemmas dealt with in The Questions
of King Milinda, written at the beginning of the Christian era.

The question posed by King Milinda to Nagasena was that if the
Buddha accepts gifts he cannot have passed entirely away, he must be
still in union with the world. On the other hand, if he has escaped from
all existence and is unattached to the world, then honours could not be
offered to him.

Nagasena's answer, if sophistic, is yet fascinating, for it invokes some
incisive analogues. The Blessed One is set entirely free and therefore
accepts no gift. Nevertheless, acts done to him, notwithstanding his having
passed away and not accepting them, are of value and bear fruit. If gods
or men put up a building to contain the jewel treasure of the Buddha's
relics, the devotee attains to one or another of the three glorious states by
virtue of the supreme good which resides in the jewel treasure of the
Buddha's wisdom.

A great and glorious fire that has died out would not accept any supply
of dried grass or sticks; but men by their own effort can produce fire.
A great and mighty wind, were it to die away, cannot be produced again;
but men, oppressed by heat or tormented by fever, can produce wind
by means of fans and punkahs. The broad earth does not acquiesce in all
kinds of seeds being planted all over it; yet it acts as a site for these seeds
and as a means of their development.

The message conveyed by this argument is that the Buddha's attainment
is symbolized by the relics, that when men pay homage and give gifts
to the Buddha, goodness is caused to arise within them, that in fact the
symbols of the Buddha act as a field of merit and men by their own
ethical efforts can plough, plant and produce fruits in it.

What is lacking in Nagasena's argument is any statement of the spiritual
power emanating per se from the sacred objects which commemorate the
Buddha. According to popular tradition, the Buddha told his disciple
Ananda that the objects that may be properly worshipped are relics of
his body, things erected in commemoration of him (e.g. images), and
articles he possessed, such as the alms bowl, girdle, bathing robe, etc.
The sacred bo tree under which he attained understanding has come to
be an object of reverence. So have the sacred books which contain the
doctrines that the Buddha taught.

All these objects are called cetiya on account of the satisfaction they
produce in the mind.

The religious monument that has attracted special comment by writers
(e.g. Leach 1958, 1962; yalman 1964) is the dagoba (dhatu garba = relic
womb), which brings together and transcends the polarities of death and
life, impurity and purity, dissolution and fertile creation.

Similarly, it could be argued that certain religious objects and persons
bring together and synthesize the notions of spiritual and political
sovereignty. These notions are eminently symbolized in the person of the
king as chakravartin (universal ruler) and as bodhisattva (Buddha-to-be).
The relation of the sacred tooth relic in Ceylon and the Emerald Buddha
image in Thailand to the institution of kingship (and statehood) under
the umbrella of Buddhism is well known. Perhaps less well understood
is the symbolism of Buddha's footprint on the top of the mountain (e.g.
Adam's Peak in Ceylon, Phrabat in Thailand, and Mt Popa in Burma).
Just as the cult of the spirit of the mountain was traditionally associated
with political unification and centralization under a king, so does the
footprint on the mountain top declare that the people and the territory
in question are the inheritance of the Buddha. These associations lead
us back to the sacred mountain of Meru at the centre of the universe,
often artificially reproduced in the centre of the royal cities of South-east
Asian kingdoms.

So we return to the puzzle: What is the ordinary Buddhist's orientation
to the Buddha and his material embodiments and symbols? It is unconvincing
to say that what has been described are aspects of `magical
Buddhism' which are `meaning-raising devices' (Ames 1964). This interpretation
is that of a theologian and not of an anthropologist. More
convincing are interpretations which see the resolution of the polarities
of pure-impure, death-fertility in the relics of the Buddha. This is for
me a starting point for unravelling the problem of conversion and transfer.
If by one criterion the pure entities are remote and inaccessible, and if by
another, relics and texts (and jewels and gold) are invested with power, it
is the final bringing together of power plus purity, the inaccessible and
the accessible, as constituting a primary problem in religious technology,
that has to be explained.

The `bodhisattva'

The traditions relating to bodhisattva, those who are on the threshold of
becoming Buddhas, are manifold. One destined to be a Buddha must
finally be born as a man, so the bodhisatva does not tarry for long in the
heavens of delight.

The bodhisattva who stirs the imagination and holds the greatest
promises for the Thai villagers is Maitreya, the next Buddha who will

arrive to bring salvation to the world. Maitreya is revered by all Buddhist
sects as the coming saviour, and his name signifies one who is full of love
toward all beings.

It is believed that the Buddha himself elected Maitreya as his successor
and that Maitreya now resides in the Tusita Heaven (Dusit in Thai), the
heaven of contented beings, from where he watches over and promotes
the interests of Buddhism. He awaits the time when he will appear on
earth as Maitreya Buddha.[4] Tradition has it that the Buddha predicted
that his teachings will last for 5,000 years, at the end of which they will
no more be respected or even remembered because of the world's corruption
and degeneracy.

According to the Vinaya, the Buddha had fixed a time limit of 500 years
starting from his death during which the Law would last. The same period
is confirmed by Nagasena in his dialogues with King Milinda. It appears
that Buddhagosa in the fifth century A.D. extended the duration of the
message in this world to 5,000 years. He foresaw five successive steps of
retrogression, at intervals of one thousand years: first, the disappearance
of the acquisition of the degrees of sanctity, then of the observance of the
precepts, of the knowledge of the Scriptures, of the exterior signs of
religion, and lastly of the corporeal relics of the Master which would be
gathered together and cremated at Bodhgaya (Coedès 1964). Apparently
this prophecy motivated, at various critical dates in the reigns of famous
kings, the holding of convocations, writing of Scriptures and revival of
religious enthusiasm. The most recent manifestation in our time was the
2,500th year (Buddha Jayanthi). The Siamese cosmological treatise, the
Traibhumikatha, was produced long ago under similar inspiration.

To this pessimistic prophecy, however, Buddhist tradition has joined
an optimistic messianic one. Maitreya, the next Buddha, will descend at
the end of this decline. Religion will wax again, arahats will arise, men
will be freed from toil and care, hunger, old age, and sickness. We shall
see later that Buddhist ritual in the village dramatizes with great expectations
the coming of the next saviour. It is therefore relevant to compare
Maitreya with the Buddha. The Buddha belongs to the past; his teachings
exist but he is extinct; it is possible that he is not in direct contact with
this world. Maitreya lives in heaven, is interested in the present order
of things as well as in the future, and his descent into the world from
heaven is imagined to bring collective salvation and benefits to those

who will be fortunate enough to see him at that time in the status of
human being.

However, it is not in the countries of Theravada Buddhism but in those
in which the Mahayana form prevails that the concept and cult of the
bodhisattva has been greatly elaborated. There bodhisattvas abound—the
most glorious of whom are Manjusri, Avalokitesvara and Vajra-pani.
They are imagined to be permanently in the celestial worlds in benevolent
relationship with humanity. Mahayana Buddhism, it would seem, has
systematically incorporated the existing gods into its pantheon and transformed
them into benevolent mediators and future Buddhas who will not
necessarily descend to earth as human Buddhas.

These Mahayanist developments are echoed in the so-called Hinayana
countries, which have at various times been fertilized by Mahayana
influences. We have already noted that Sinhalese, Burmese and Thai
kings were elevated to the status of bodhisattva. In certain situations,
messianic Maitreya status may be claimed by charismatic leaders of
popular rebellions against established kingship (Mendelson 1963). In
Ceylon the protective guardian god Natha has been identified with
Maitreya, and others like Saman and Skanda are regarded as bodhisattva
whose role is to guard and protect both the Buddhist religion and the
secular kingdom. Parallels can be found in other societies; but insofar
as we are concerned with religion in the Thai village of Phraan Muan it is
sufficient to remember that it is Maitreya alone who enjoys the adulation
and the anticipations of a bodhisattva.

The `arahat' and his miraculous powers

While the Buddha is a personage of the past who has reached nirvana,
and Maitreya is the coming Buddha, the arahat is a lesser personage of
both the past and the present,[5] who is inferior to the other two but is
nevertheless on the path to salvation. The attributes of an arahat are of
interest to us because they have relevance for understanding certain
village rituals, especially those connected with healing and exorcism.
Their bearing on these rituals nevertheless is not readily apparent.

Buddhism poured new content into an old word. The term arahat
was previously applied to persons with honorary titles and of worldly
position who were entitled to receive gifts, and also to ascetics who
subjected themselves to self-mortification (tapas). The Buddhist conception
applied more narrowly to the ascetic man of religion who has entered the

Ariyan path and has reached its end, and consequently possesses the
knowledge of emancipation. By the exercise of meditation (dhyana), the
performance of certain ceremonies, and the observance of the prescribed
course of moral action, the arahat has entered the path of salvation and
his mind is therefore free of desire for, and cleaving to, sensuous objects,
and free of the accompaniments of sorrow and pain. At his death he
reaches the state of nirvana.

Now the notion of iddhi (or siddhi) is ancient in India, and Buddhism
accepted and confirmed its existence and reality. The mystic powers of
iddhi are not miraculous in the Western sense of interference by an outside
power to contravene known laws of nature, but are special powers in
conformity with nature possessed by certain people who are able to
accomplish acts beyond the powers of ordinary men. Typically they are
gained by ascetics.

The Buddhist suttas enumerate the iddhi powers in several places. For
instance in the Samanna-Phala Sutta the Buddha enumerates the five
modes of mystical insight that an arahat possesses:

the practice of iddhi—`being one he becomes many, or having become
many becomes one again; he becomes visible or invisible; he goes, feeling
no obstruction, to the further side of a wall or rampart or hill, as if through
air...he walks on water without breaking through, as if on solid ground;
he travels cross-legged in the sky...even the moon and the sun, so
potent...does he touch with his hand...' (Rhys Davids, Vol. II, 1899,
pp. 88-9);

the heavenly ear—the ability to hear sounds, both human and celestial,
whether far or near;

knowledge of others' thoughts;

memory of his own previous births;

the heavenly eye—the knowledge of other people's previous births.

What is of special interest in respect of the concerns of this book is
the relation between the achievement of arahatship and the possession
and employment of these mystic powers. In the Samanna-Phala Sutta
the Buddha has listed `The Fruits of the Life of a Recluse' and in this
list the mystic powers of iddhi rank high, superseded only by the higher
achievement of the destruction of ignorance, rebirth and the sure knowledge
of emancipation.

Thus a remarkable feature of the arahat is that in the course of his
mental and spiritual progress he naturally attains extraordinary powers.
But in the Kevaddha Suttanta (Rhys Davids, Vol. II, 1899, Ch. II) the
Buddha is said to have taken a definite stand regarding their exercise.
On being urged by Kevaddha, a young householder, to perform mystic

wonders so as to make the people of Nalanda more devoted to the Exalted
One, the Buddha, while conceding that he has himself realized the powers
of iddhi (the `mystic wonder' and the `wonder of manifestation') asserted
strongly that he loathed their practice, and that a greater and better
wonder, which he had realized and recommended, was the wonder of
education, that is, the system of self-training which culminated in arahatship.

The doctrinal position thus is that while it is inevitable that, at an
advanced stage in his progress, the searcher attains mystic powers—
which are in fact a mark of his progress—the exercise of these powers
is dangerous both for the monk, who may be seduced into a vain magical
mastery of the world, and for the laymen, because it may cause confusion
in their minds and give opportunity for unbelievers to degrade the mystic
powers of the recluse and equate them with the efficacy of base charms.
The Buddha therefore forbade the monk to exhibit his powers before
non-initiates, and the following stricture is embedded in the Canonical
Law of the Vinaya: `You are not, O Bhikkus, to display before the laity
the wonders of iddhi, surpassing the power of ordinary men. Whosoever
does so shall be guilty of a wrong act' (dukkata).

While Buddhist commentators and expositors state the above as the
Buddha's position on this issue, a measure of ambiguity and contradiction
is introduced in the Patika Suttanta (Rhys Davids, Vol. IV, Part III, 1957,
Ch. 24), which belongs to the same historical period as the suttas already
cited. In this dialogue the Buddha claimed to have worked wonders of an
amusing and magical nature to vindicate his superiority over other ascetics.

I am not concerned here with sifting out the true doctrine but to
pinpoint a phenomenon dealt with in classical Buddhist doctrine and
which serves as a point of reference for certain kinds of cults and practitioners
one meets in the field today.

The powers of iddhi (itthibat in Siamese) as set out above are not
peculiar to Buddhism alone; they are for the most part stereotyped and
occur in all the ascetic and mystical literatures of India (Eliade 1958).

The supra-normal powers of the arahat thus have an indirect bearing
on contemporary religion in so-called Buddhist countries. Strictly speaking,
in the Buddhist discussion of the problem, it is by virtue of mental
discipline and by undergoing an inner transformation that the monk
gains the mystic powers, and it is because their indulgence and exercise
would stall his progress to the final goal that Buddha forbade their display
as dukkata (evil deed). To make false profession of the attainment of
arahatship is one of the four crimes that result in permanent exclusion
from the priesthood.

But the possibility of acquiring mystic powers is not denied. And the

way is therefore open for someone to take to the ascetic and meditative
discipline in order to acquire them. An example that springs to mind is
the Burmese weikza, who is regarded as possessed of supernatural powers,
long-lived and on the path to nirvana (Mendelson 1963). The possibility
is also there for someone to use the vehicles of inner transformation—
chants and spells—without actually undergoing the mental transformation
in the Buddhist meditative sense. Thus come about hierarchical distinctions
between ritual specialists and practitioners in respect of their ethical
status and endowment with spiritual power (rit in Siamese). The actual
results of these possible developments we shall see later in Chapter 18,
which deals with exorcism.

THE BUDDHA AND MARA

The parade we have so far witnessed of the grand Buddhist protagonists
will be seriously unrepresentative if we do not also give a place, if not of
honour then of a conspicuous nature, to Buddha's great antagonist,
Mara. This demon antagonist appears in village myth and ritual frequently,
for he is to the Buddha as baab (demerit) is to bun (merit).

Mara is generally regarded as the personification of death; he is the
Buddhist counterpart of the principle of destruction. In more philosophical
terms he can be equated with the whole world of sensuous existence and
the realm of rebirth, as opposed to liberation and nirvana: for such a world
is under the sway of desire and death. And in the thought of the Pitakas
there is a clear connection between desire and death. For the world built
on desire waxes and wanes, flourishes and decays; hence the ruler of
worldly desire is also god of death. But Mara is not the ruler over hell.
The function of judgment and punishment is assigned in the Buddhist
pantheon to Yama, the god of the dead.

The Buddhist texts refer extensively to the various encounters between
the Buddha and Mara the tempter; Mara's temptations also extended to
monks, nuns and laymen in order to lure them from the path. In the
Padhana Sutta Mara is represented as visiting Gotama on the banks of
the Nerañjara, where he was practising austerities, and tempting him to
abandon his endeavour. But the most important encounter—greatly
elaborated in later books and chronicles, and constituting today a lively
part of village lore—is the attack on and temptation of the Buddha by
Mara, as the Buddha sat under the bo tree immediately before his enlightenment.
This encounter not only is recalled in some village rituals but also
gives mythological legitimacy to a ritual act performed widely and
habitually—yaadnam, the pouring of water on the ground when transferring

merit. I shall relate the bare details of this great encounter between good
and evil in Buddhist folklore:

When Gotama sat under the bo tree engaged in his final effort to attain
Buddhahood, Mara, whose nature is sinful, determined that he must at
once destroy the man who was about to pass beyond his power. He first
sent his three daughters Raka (raga = love), Aradi (arati = discontent),
and Tanha (trichna = desire), beautifully bedecked, to tempt him. Gotama
drove away these women who wanted to chain him in the fetters of
concupiscence. Then King Mara, in fury, assembled his generals and his
fearsome army and decided to make war on the bodhisattva so that he
might flee in terror. At Mara's approach all the deva gods, the Nagas and
other spirits who had gathered round the bodhisattva to pay him homage
and sing his praises, took unceremonious flight, except the earth goddess.
Mara employed all his miraculous powers to hurt the bodhisattva—from
the brandishing of weapons by hideous forms, the causing of thunderstorms
and violent gales, to the final hurling of his powerful thunderbolt, which
however stood over the Buddha like a canopy of flowers. Undaunted,
Mara challenged the Buddha to prove that the seat, the throne on which
the Buddha sat, was his by right. Mara proved his own claim to that
throne by calling on his generals to affirm his might.

Here we must let Alabaster (1871, pp. 154-5) present to us his translation
from Siamese sources:

The Thai villagers of today, whenever they have done an act of merit
which is rewarded by blessings chanted by monks, transfer some of this
merit to the dead, to the gods, to other humans, by pouring water upon
the earth, thereby calling upon the goddess of the earth, Nang Thoranee,
to witness the act.