Thaumaturgical Practices in Kashmir History
Thaumaturgy is the art of invoking supernatural powers. Sorcery, witchcraft, spell-casting and black-magic can be tolerantly clubbed under the umbrella of thaumaturgy. Kashmir’s ancient history (notably the textual tradition) is filled with evidence of thaumaturgical practices, which Kalhana calls abhichāra. Initially, these practices seem to have been predominantly utilised for political intrigues, such as overthrowing an enemy (uccatana) or causing a death (marana). Over time, these practices started permeating beyond elite circles, gradually making a presence among the common folk. The emergence of the Kapalin sect, as evidenced in Rajatarangini, also alludes to the growing influence and absorption of such esoteric practices among the general populace of Kashmir.
The story of semi-divine king Sandhimati Aryaraja, who was purportedly brought back to life by the Yoginis in a somewhat Mary Shelley’s Victor Frankenstein style and went on to become the king of Kashmir, suggests a profound proximity between mystical practices, political power, religious veneration, and the collective Kashmiri psyche. Whereas the story of Aryaraja is of bringing the dead back to life, parallelly, a recurring theme within Kalhana’s Rajatarangini is the power struggles within Kashmir’s royal families who would employ sorcery to kill their opponents, presenting a contrasting application of thaumaturgy.
The death of King Gopalavarman is reportedly attributed to the malevolent thaumaturgy of Ramadeva. Evidence from historical chronicles suggests that these spell-mongers were mostly Brahmins. This is evidenced by the story of King Tarapida employing a Brahmin for casting spells to kill his elder brother Candrapida, and by King Tarapida’s death, which is also attributed to the witchcraft practised by a section of the Brahmins. From this time onwards, declares Kalhana, kings resorted to witchcraft and other thaumaturgical practices to overcome their foes.
The historical figure notably associated with the employment of witchcraft as a political tactic is Queen Didda. She is recorded to have used witchcraft to orchestrate the death of King Kshemagupta’s nephew and a possible claimant of the throne–Mahiman and her infant grandsons: Nandigupta, Thribuvana and Bhimagupta. Additionally, several other kings like Gopalavarman, Sangramadeva and Hariraja are recorded to have lost their lives due to witchcraft and sorcery. Furthermore, Haider Malik Chadoora also recalls the reign of Raja Inder (brother of Raja Nar), who knew the spell of invisibility but used it for immoral activities.
Buddhist monks are also recorded as having proficiency in such practices. This is evidenced by the story of King Jaluka, who had ordered the demolition of a Buddhist Vihara. This order infuriated a Buddhist monk who invoked Krtyakah (witches) to discipline the haughty king. Likewise, during the reign of King Lalitaditya, one of his Buddhist ministers named Cankuna is recorded to have known the spell of creating gold.
Despite these stories being luscious and captivating, they warrant a critical and cautious interpretation. The resurrection of Sandhimati Aryaraja from the dead is a semi-legendary spin-off, likely crafted to ascribe reverence to a benevolent king. The death of kings in quick succession is a fertile ground for attributing such deaths to sorcery. Similarly, the narrative of a gold-producing Buddhist magician aligns conveniently with the already existing narrative of economic prosperity of Kashmir under King Lalitaditya.
Among the people of Kashmir, thaumaturgy appears to have embodied a complex character. It was good, bad and both. Certain narratives depict spell-mongers in direct or indirect opposition to the revered Nagas. For example, the lord of the Nagas, Mahapadma, sought refuge with King Jayapida because a Dravidian spell-monger was trying to capture him. Other stories project such practices as driven by envy or fear, as evidenced in the story from the court of King Chandrapida, where a woman accused a Brahmin of killing her husband and possibly using witchcraft to manipulate the adjudication of the king. Yet, other narratives position spells as a harbinger of wealth and power, as could be gauged from the ‘spell of Hatakeshvara’, whose mastery gave its possessor complete command over the world.
The account of Marco Polo projects Kashmiri magicians and sorcerers in the court of Mongol king Kublai Khan as possessing astonishing powers inasmuch that they could make idols speak, change the weather and create darkness. When Shams-ud-Din Araki witnessed a Kashmiri wedding, he called its customs ‘sorcery’ because of the arcane practices, mystical gestures and rituals. Biscoe further corroborates the continued prevalence of such practices in Kashmir and calls it a ‘black art’. He mentions that these practices were the prerogative of the Brahman priests who were compensated ‘heavily’ for their work. Biscoe provides a detailed description of how such practices were performed. A wax or clay figure was moulded into human shape, representing the victim and a sword or a nail would be used to inflict a wound on the victim. Once the procedure was complete, the figurine was burned.
At the transition of the 13th-14th century, Hinduism in Kashmir was heavily influenced by thaumaturgical practices. The 14th-century Kashmiri mystic poetess Lal Ded thus reprimands such practices and their practitioners, saying:
“To stop a flowing stream, to cool a raging fire, To walk on one’s feet in the sky, To labour at milking a wooden cow, all these, in the end, are but base jugglery”
Evidence of thaumaturgy in Kashmir is ancient, medieval, modern and contemporary. Emerging from the royals and gradually permeating society, these practices reflect their acceptance and perceived need among the common people. Thaumaturgy facilitated political manoeuvring for some, religious preservation for others and personal vendetta for yet others. The belief and the practice of sorcery reveal a cultural inclination towards expecting an otherworldly interference in the ‘ordinary’ life of the people. These practices also find legitimacy (or perhaps normalisation) through their integration into the legends of Kashmir, thus presenting such practices as something normal.
However, the interactions of Reshism and Sufism with Kashmiri thaumaturgy simultaneously tangled as well as distinguished spirituality from thaumaturgy. While Reshism and Sufism evidently borrowed stories of magic, miracles and conjuration from the thamaturgical traditions of Kashmir, it at the same time distanced itself from exclusive reliance on the ‘otherworldly’ and focused on self-purification, service and simplicity. Nevertheless, it is hardly surprising that a place as enchanting as Kashmir served as a historical locus for enchantments.
Moin S. Hakak, Research Scholar, Department of International Relations, Political Science and History, CHRIST University, Bangalore.
