Dealing with demons in modern times

In an age often criticised as being too materialistic, plenty of people still make room for the opposite end of the spectrum – belief in the supernatural. Now a “ghost story” emerging from the Northeast has demonstrated once again that such concepts can be just as harmful.

A particularly serious case some time ago involved a 12-year-old schoolgirl being forced to live alone for years in her family’s home in an Ubon Ratchathani village after the neighbours cast her parents out of the community because they were deemed phi pob. In February in eastern Sa Kaeo, three people ostensibly possessed by phi pob forced seven neighbours and family members at knifepoint to strip off their clothes.

Not quite a ghost, in traditional folklore, a phi pob is a demon that takes possession of a person and feeds on his entrails. Once the spirit abandons the host body, the person dies. One type of phi pob passes its ghastly habit onto its children.

This month another phi pob appeared, in the form of a 56-year-old woman in rural Buri Ram accused of being one. Rather than bearing any supernatural menace, she bore the presence of mind to go to the police and file complaints of defamation and assault. She said she and her family have been suffering the consequences of the neighbours’ superstitious paranoia for three years. She’d even been physically injured when the villagers allegedly forced her to undergo exorcism rituals carried out by monks and shamans, during which her face was repeatedly slapped and she was wounded with sharp objects.

Anthropologists and psychologists have suggested that belief in the phi pob represents a social mechanism designed to control individuals’ behaviour within a community, especially the smaller communities found in rural areas. Displaying behaviour incompatible with that of others can bring accusations of being possessed and, as a result, ostracism by those fearful of becoming themselves “infected”. It’s not uncommon for people thus accused to move elsewhere rather than carry the stigma.

The scientists’ cool assessment of the phenomenon as a means of preserving order and unity within a community does little to alleviate concern over such troubling situations arising in these supposedly enlightened times. 

Who, after all, has the exacting knowledge that’s surely needed to determine whether an evil spirit has taken possession of another person? It’s not a judgement we’d readily leave to the local abbot, the village head or any other community leader, and certainly not to someone claiming shamanic powers. And who’s in charge of marshalling the facts in situations where anyone can start an ugly rumour that’s apt to spread quickly? The accused might be the victim not of spirit possession but of personal vendetta. They might be recluses regarded with unfair suspicion. They might have bipolar disorder, leading to odd or even offensive behaviour but best treated with kindness and medicine rather than eviction from their homes and physical abuse.

It would be foolish to think that superstition, so deeply rooted in every society around the world, will evaporate with the spread of education. Instead, what matters in Thailand is preventing such beliefs from leading to the mistreatment of individuals and from being exploited by others for very real nefarious ends.

Wherever such cases crop up, the authorities should not underestimate the potential for harm. Their intervention is essential in ensuring an outcome that’s fair to everyone involved. Certainly the lives of anyone seriously accused of being a phi pob can never be the same again afterward. They and their family members live with shame until they leave their communities. People might have the right to believe in demons, but not to tread on other people’s good name and dignity.