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Monday, May 28, 2012

IAN STEVENSON - A Case of the Possession Type in India


Journal of Scientific Exploration. Vol. 3 , No. I, pp. 81- 101 , 1989
Abstract-A young married woman, Sumitra, in a village of northern India, apparently died and then revived. After a period of confusion she stated that she was one Shiva who had been murdered in another village. She gave enough details to permit verification of her statements, which corresponded to facts in the life of another young married woman called Shiva. Shiva had lived in a place about 100 km away, and she had died violently there-either by suicide or murder-about two months before Sumitra's apparent death and revival. Subsequently, Sumitra recognized 23 persons (in person or in photographs) known to Shiva. She also showed in several respects new behavior that accorded with Shiva's personality and attainments. For example, Shiva's family were Brahmins (high caste), whereas Sumitra's were Thakurs (second caste); after the change in her personality Sumitra showed Brahmin habits that were strange in her family. Extensive interviews with 53 informants satisfied the investigators that the families concerned had been, as they claimed, completely unknown to each other before the case developed and that Sumitra had had no normal knowledge of the people and events in Shiva's life. The authors conclude that the subject demonstrated knowledge of another person's life obtained paranormally.
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K. S. Rawat accompanied us on one of the field trips of this investigation and participated in some of the interpreting. Satwant Pasricha wishes to thank the National Institute of Mental Health and Neurosciences for support. Emily Williams Cook read a draft of this paper critically and helped us to clarify and amplify our report of some details of the case. Thanks are also due to Susan Adams for assistance in the preparation of this paper.
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The word possession designates a wide variety of conditions that psychiatrists, psychologists, and anthropologists describe. It indicates that a person has undergone such a marked change of behavior that other persons seem no longer to be in contact with the ordinary personality of the affected person. 
Possession states occur widely in India (Carstairs & Kapur, 1976; Teja, Khanna, & Subrahmanyam, 1970).' Most psychiatrists, psychologists, and anthropologists have emphasized the similarities between cases of the possession type and diagnostic entities recognized in the West, such as multiple personality and hysteria. Accordingly, they tend to use phrases such as "possession syndrome" and "hysterical possession." They also, in varying degrees, offer motivational explanations of the condition that depict it as beneficial to the affected person in improving his status and perhaps resolving internal and external conflicts. However, Claus ( 1979) cautioned against psychological and sociological interpretations for all cases until we have more information. Along the same line, Lewis (197 1, pp. 178-179) wrote: "Nothing after all is easier than leaping to conclusions and projecting our own psychological assumptions and interpretations onto exotic evidence which may correspond only in superficial detail with apparently similar data in our own culture." 
The question arises of whether some ostensibly possessed persons show knowledge about the life of a deceased person that they could not have obtained normally. We think that in a small number of cases the subjects do show such knowledge. Cases of this kind are rare, and yet sufficiently well known in India so that the Hindi word parakayapravesh ("entering into another body") exists for designating them. One of us (I.S.) has studied several cases of the type with evidence of paranormal knowledge2 and has published reports of two of them (Stevenson, 196611 974a, 1983a). Their occurrence and that of occasional other cases of ostensible possession with evidence of paranormal processes, such as the case of Uttara Huddar (in which the subject spoke a language she had not learned and assumed the personality of a deceased woman completely unknown to her family) (Stevenson & Pasricha, 1979; Stevenson, 1984), have encouraged us to search for new cases of the possession type with evidence of paranormal processes. 
Such evidence is not easily obtained. The ostensibly possessing personalities (when not gods or godlings) are usually persons known to the subject or about whom the subject may easily have learned normally. In cases of this type it is difficult to obtain satisfactory evidence of the subject's having knowledge paranormally acquired. We believe we have satisfied this criterion in the case we now report. It involves two completely unrelated and unacquainted persons. Their families lived in widely separated towns and villages, and the informants' testimony warrants believing that they had had no contact before the case developed.


Case Report


Summary of the Case and its Investigation


When this case developed, the subject, Sumitra Singh, was a young married woman of about 17. She was living with her husband and their one child in her husband's family home (according to the custom in India) in the village of Sharifpura, in the Farrukhabad District of the State of Uttar Pradesh, India. Early in 1985 she began to develop episodes of loss of consciousness with eye-roll movements and clenching of the teeth. Sometimes she would speak during these trance-like states, and one day in July she predicted that she would die three days later. When the predicted day (July 19) came, she seemed to die. At least members of her family and other villagers considered her dead, because she was pulseless and apneic, and her face was drained of blood like that of a dead person. They had begun grieving and also preparing for Sumitra's funeral, when she unexpectedly revived. 
Following a brief period of confusion Sumitra began to behave like a different person. She did not recognize the people around her and said that her name was Shiva and that she had been murdered by her in-laws at a place called Dibiyapur. She rejected Sumitra's husband and child and asked to be taken to Shiva's two children. She stated many details that were subsequently found to correspond with the life of another young married woman, Shiva Diwedi, who had died violently-whether from murder or suicide is still unclear-at Dibiyapur on the night of May 18-19, 1985, that is, two months before Sumitra's apparent death and revival. Shiva's parental family believed that her in-laws had murdered her and then attempted to simulate suicide by laying her body on railway tracks nearby. Her father, Ram Siya Tripathi, filed a complaint, and this instituted a judicial inquiry. Reports of Shiva's death and of the legal proceedings appeared in newspapers published in Etawah, the district town where Ram Siya Tripathi lived. 
Sumitra's in-laws said that they knew nothing of a Shiva who had died at a place called Dibiyapur. At first they thought that Sumitra had gone mad and later that she had become possessed by a discarnate spirit; but they made no attempt to verify what she was saying. It was about a month before Ram Siya Tripathi learned about Sumitra's statements. This occurred, almost accidentally, when he heard a rumor, while he was visiting Dibiyapur, that his deceased daughter had taken possession of a girl in a distant village. Nearly two more months elapsed before he was able to verify this information by having someone from a village called Murra, which is close to Sharifpura, visit Sumitra and her family. 
The information gathered corresponded to facts in the life of Ram Siya's deceased daughter, Shiva, and so on October 20, 1985 Ram Siya went himself (accompanied by a relative) to Sharifpura, where Sumitra recognized him and said she was his daughter. Sumitra also recognized in Sharifpura and Etawah (where she visited Ram Siya during the following days) at least 13 members of Shiva's family and circle of friends. 
In addition to Sumitra's statements about the life of Shiva and her recognitions of persons Shiva had known, she showed a marked change in behavior. Sumitra's family belonged to the Thakur caste and they were villagers with almost no education; Sumitra herself had had no formal education, although she could read and write a little. The Tripathis, on the other hand, were Brahmins and middle-class urbanites. Ram Siya was a lecturer in a college, and Shiva had been educated up to the level of earning a B.A. degree. After her revival, Sumitra's behavior changed from that of a simple village girl to that of a moderately well-educated woman of higher caste and more urban manners, who could now read and write Hindi fluently. 
The case came to our attention soon after the first exchanges of visits between the families concerned. The Indian Express published a report of the case on October 26, 1985. One of I.S.'s correspondents in India noticed this and sent a copy of the report to him. At about the same time a correspondent in northern India sent to S.P. a copy of a report of the case in a Hindi newspaper, Dainik Jagran, that had appeared on October 23, 1985.


Methods of Investigation


Our principal method of investigation was interviews with informants, particularly firsthand witnesses of the apparent death of Sumitra and the change in her personality that followed her revival; but we spent almost as much time interviewing the members of Shiva's family. 
We were able to begin our interviews within three weeks of learning about the case. In November 1985, S.P. conducted a series of interviews with some of the principal informants for it. These included Sumitra and her motherin-law, Shiva's parents, and one of Shiva's maternal uncles. 
In February and March 1986, we worked together on the case for seven days. We interviewed again all but one of the persons S.P. had interviewed earlier. In addition, we interviewed numerous other informants for the case, especially in Sumitra's village of Sharifpura. We met her father in his village, Angad ka Nagla. We had to seek out other informants in four other towns and villages of the Farrukhabad District and the neighboring districts of Etawah, Mainpuri, and Hardoi. 
In November 1986, February 1 987, and October 1987 two of us (I.S. and S.P.) spent another 10 days on fieldwork for the case. During these three periods we interviewed (in Dibiyapur) Shiva's husband and father-in-law, whom we had not met earlier. We also interviewed informants who had connections through marriage or trade with more than one of the communities involved in the case; we intended these interviews to help us to assess the likelihood that information about Shiva's life and death could have reached Sumitra's family along normal lines of communication. We also, during this later phase of the investigation, had new interviews with some previous informants, including Sumitra and her husband and Shiva's parents. 
By the end of our investigation in October 1987 we had interviewed 24 members of Sumitra's and Shiva's families, and we had interviewed all the more important witnesses among these persons two or more times. In addition, we had interviewed another 29 persons who were able to furnish background information, especially that mentioned above concerning communications between the communities involved in the case. 
During the interviews S.P. made notes, mostly in Hindi, and also acted as principal interpreter for I.S. and N.McC-R., both of whom made notes in English, as nearly verbatim as possible. During a few special interviews we made tape recordings only, or in addition to making notes. 
In our interviews we gave particular attention to the following aspects of the case: the preceding illness, apparent death, and revival of Sumitra; the possibilities for normal communication of information about Shiva's life and death to Sumitra and her family; and the circumstances under which Sumitra, after her revival, identified Shiva's family in person and in photographs. 
In addition to our interviews we obtained copies of newspaper reports (published in Etawah) of Shiva's death and of Ram Siya Tripathi's allegations that her in-laws had murdered her. We also obtained copies of the photographs of Shiva's family in which Sumitra had correctly identified persons normally unknown to her before the change in her personality. 
One of us (I.S.) has published elsewhere further details of the methods followed (Stevenson, 196611974a, 1975).


Relevant Facts of Geography and Possibilities for Normal Communication Between the Families Concerned


This case occurred in the Farrukhabad and Etawah Districts of the State of Uttar Pradesh. Etawah is a small city of about 100,000 inhabitants located approximately 500 km southeast of Delhi. It is a district town on the main line of the railway that joins Delhi to Kanpur (about 250 km east of Etawah) and, ultimately, to Calcutta. Shiva's parents lived in Etawah from the time she was three years old until the case developed. 
After her marriage Shiva moved to the home of her in-laws at Dibiyapur, which is about 55 km east of Etawah. Almost adjoining Dibiyapur is the railway station of Phaphoond, which is on the main railway line linking Etawah and Kanpur. 
Sharifpura, the village where Sumitra was living when the case developed, is just outside the Etawah District in the Farrukhabad District, about 65 km of Sumitra's in-laws lived in the town of Sikandarpur, which is about 30 km farther north and west from Sharifpura, in the Farrukhabad District. 
Angad ka Nagla, where Sumitra's father lived, is about 15 km east of Sharifpura and perhaps slightly south. 
Informants for Sumitra's side of the case said that they had no previous acquaintance with Shiva's family, and members of Shiva's family similarly said they were completely ignorant of Sumitra's family before the case developed. Apart from the long (for India) geographical distances between the families, they were further separated by significant differences of caste, education, and economic position. 
Strong support for the informants' denial of prior acquaintance (or knowledge about each other) comes from the slow and roundabout manner in which Shiva's family learned about the personality change in Sumitra. Sumitra's father and her in-laws made no attempt to verify her statements about Shiva. Word about them first reached the neighboring village of Murra, which is 2 km from Sharifpura. From there it traveled to Dibiyapur apparently conveyed by women of Murra who had married and were living there. Ram Siya Tripathi, on a visit to Dibiyapur, heard a rumor that his dead daughter had taken possession of a girl in a distant village called Sharifpura. However, he had never been to Sharifpura and did not even know where it was located. After another two weeks he learned about a man called Ram Prakash Dube, a native of Murra who was living in Etawah, but whom he had not previously known. He asked Ram Prakash Dube to inquire in Murra about the truth of the account he had heard in Dibiyapur. The monsoon rains led to further delays. When Ram Prakash Dube next visited Murra, he looked into the story and confirmed its main outlines to Ram Siya Tripathi, who, as we have mentioned, then went to Sharifpura and had his first meeting with Sumitra on October 20, 1985. This was exactly three months after Sumitra's apparent death and revival. We believe that if the families concerned had been previously acquainted or had had any lines of communication through mutual acquaintances, they would have exchanged information about Sumitra's change of personality much sooner than they did. 
If Ram Siya Tripathi had not complained to the police about the unseemly haste with which his daughter's body had been cremated (as we shall describe below), few persons outside those immediately concerned would have heard about her death. However, when the police began to investigate the matter, the newspapers of Etawah took notice and published accounts of Shiva's death and of the judicial inquiry. Some of the newspapers carrying these reports reached Sikandarpur, where persons who might have come in contact with the family of Sumitra's mother-in-law read them. At least one newspaper with a report also reached a reader of Sharifpura. The brother of the headman of Sharifpura said that he had read about Shiva's death in a newspaper before the change in Sumitra; but he gave the matter little attention at the time. The headman himself, a schoolteacher, said that he learned about Shiva's death only after Sumitra's changeover. In addition, we learned of two traders who went regularly between Sharifpura and Etawah on business. After the case developed one of them became acquainted with Ram Siya Tripathi, but had not known him earlier. 
Members of Sumitra's family said that they had heard nothing about Shiva's death before Sumitra's death, revival, and personality change. However, in view of the circulation of some newspapers in their area, and of some trading between Sharifpura and Etawah, it is best to assume that they might have learned of Shiva's death and perhaps also learned about some of the allegations of suicide and homicide that figured in the newspaper reports. (There was no radio station in the area. Some television had been introduced at Etawah only [Sharifpura had no electricity], but it only relayed programs from Delhi and broadcast no local news.) The newspaper reports included some of the names of Shiva's parental family and in-laws. The important question remaining is, therefore, whether Sumitra, after the change in her personality, demonstrated knowledge and behavior corresponding to Shiva's life that went beyond the information available in the newspapers reporting the death of Shiva and the related judicial inquiry.


The Life, Last Illness, Apparent Death, and Revival of Sumitra


Sumitra was born in (probably) 196S(3) in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, where her father, Chotte Singh, had gone for employment in one of the many textile mills there. He was a native of Angad ka Nagla, a village of the Etawah District. He and other members of his family belonged to the Thakur caste. 
Sumitra's early life was unusual in the degree to which she lived separated from one or both of her parents. The separations reflected her father's efforts to break out of the life of a village cultivator and become a steady wage-earner. 
Because of her parents' movements Sumitra lived for about eight years with an older cousin, Phool Mala, in the village of Birpur, in the neighboring district of Mainpuri. Sumitra never attended school, but Phool Mala taught her the elements of reading and writing. Phool Mala herself had gone to a primary school only for a year or two, and she had mainly learned to read and write at home. She taught Sumitra as much as she knew. She said that Sumitra could read the Ramayana and was able to write a letter. Sumitra's father told us (incorrectly) that she could not write at all, and her husband said that she could write "a very little like a child in kindergarten." He thought that she was (when he knew her) unable to write a letter, but we learned that she had occasionally done this. 
Sumitra's mother, Ganga Devi, died in 1979, when Sumitra was about 1 1. 
In childhood Sumitra enjoyed good physical health. When she was about 13 (in 1981), she was married (in the Indian style of arranged marriages) to Jagdish Singh and moved to her husband's village of Sharifpura, which is about 15 km from Angad ka Nagla, where her father was then living. Sumitra's marriage to a considerable extent repeated the pattern of separations that she had experienced in childhood, because her husband, like her father, went to a city (in his case, Delhi) trying to obtain regular employment, and he was often away from Sharifpura for months at a time. After three years of marriage, Sumitra gave birth to a baby boy in December, 1984. A month or two later, early in 1985, she began to suffer from periods of loss of consciousness or trance in which her eyes would roll upwards and she would clench her teeth. She seemed not to have fallen suddenly in any of these episodes. The spells lasted varying times-from a few minutes to a whole day. Sometimes Sumitra would say afterward that Santoshi Ma4 had possessed her. On two occasions she was seemingly possessed briefly by discarnate personalities. One of these communicating personalities said that she had been a woman of Sharifpura who had drowned herself in a well; the other (a male) said that he had been a man of another state in India. She gave some particulars about this latter life that have not been verified and are probably unverifiable. 
During these episodes of apparent possession, Sumitra's condition sufficiently troubled her family so that they consulted local healers. Of these the most prominent was a man called Vishwa Nath. He was a distant relative of the family, a cultivator regularly, and without experience in other cases like Sumitra's. Nevertheless. he seemed to have a pacifying influence on her. He himself at times went into trances when he would be possessed, as he would say afterward, by the Hindu god Hanuman. 
Vishwa Nath's intervention did not arrest Sumitra's episodes of trance; and, as we described earlier, she predicted her death, and three days later (on July 19, 1985) she lost consciousness and seemed to die. We questioned several eyewitnesses of this event. Her respiration and pulse stopped and her face became drained of blood like that of a dead person. A considerable group of persons surrounding Sumitra were convinced that she had died, and some began to cry. It was proposed to put her body on the ground (a Hindu ritual performed for persons who are thought about to die or who have died). Sumitra seemed to be dead for a period estimated by her fatherin-law and brother-in-law as about five minutes. Some other informants thought that she had been dead for much longer than five minutes before she revived, but we think they may have estimated the onset of death from a time when her breathing became shallow and barely perceptible. No doctor was in or near the village, so Sumitra's heart was not auscultated, and we have reported the villagers' judgment that Sumitra was dead without asserting ourselves that she was. 
When Sumitra revived she did not recognize her surroundings including the people of her husband's family. She said little or nothing for a day after her revival. Then she began to say that she was Shiva and to describe details of the life and death of Shiva. We shall summarize her statements about Shiva's life in a later section of this report, after we describe what we could learn about Shiva's death.
Upon hearing Sumitra's statements about Shiva's life and death, her inlaws thought first that she had gone mad and then that she had become possessed by a wandering discarnate personality who could be exorcised away or might leave spontaneously as had the ones previously manifesting in Sumitra. 
In the autumn of 1986 Sumitra became confused for a few hours and seemed to resume her ordinary personality. Then the Shiva personality resumed control and was still dominant at the time of our last interviews in October 1987. By this time the Shiva personality had been dominant-with the single brief exception just noted-for more than two years.


The Life and Death of Shiva


Shiva Tripathi was born in Sevpur in the Etawah District on October 24, 1962. Her parents were members of the Brahmin caste and her father, Ram Siya Tripathi, was a lecturer in a college. After 1965 the family lived in Etawah, and Shiva grew up there along with five brothers and sisters. She attended school and then college from which she graduated with a B.A. in Home Economics. 
At the age of 18 and a half she was married to a man called Chhedi Lal, who lived in the village or small town of Dibiyapur. 
Shiva gave birth to two children who became known by the nicknames of Tinku and Rinku. (Tinku was about 18 months old and Rinku less than 6 months old when Shiva died.) Shiva was living (according to the custom of joint households in India) in her in-laws' house. Friction developed between Shiva and her in-laws. It is possible that Shiva's superior education and more urban manners irritated her in-laws. They grumbled when Shiva returned to Etawah in order to write final examinations for her college degree. Shiva complained that her mother-in-law had told her to go and hang herself. At one stage her father-in-law wrote to Shiva's father and suggested that he take her back, but nothing came of this. 
A more serious quarrel developed in the second half of May 1985. Shiva was invited to attend the wedding of a member of her family, and her in-laws, after at first agreeing to her absence for this function, changed their minds and forbade her to leave the house. On the evening of May 18, 1985 Shiva's maternal uncle by marriage, Brijesh Pathak, who lived in a village (Kainjari) about a kilometer from Dibiyapur, called on the family and learned from Shiva about the quarrel she had had with her in-laws. Shiva was crying and told him that her mother-in-law and one of her sisters-in-law had beaten her. She did not seem depressed, and she did not talk of suicide. Her uncle tried to calm the family members and advised them to ask Shiva's father to come and arrange a more durable peace. 
The next morning Brijesh Pathak and his brothers learned that Shiva had died in an "accident." Her dead body had been found on the railway tracks, and her in-laws said that she had thrown herself in front of a train. We interviewed five persons who saw Shiva's body on the morning of May 19 before it was cremated. When discovered, it lay between two rails of a track at the railway station of Phaphoond (which adjoins Dibiyapur). The body was intact and therefore had not been run over by the wheels of a train; several trains had passed the station during the night.

Brijesh Pathak, remembering the quarrel between Shiva and her in-laws of the night before, asked them to delay cremation of the body until he could go to Etawah and bring Shiva's father (which would take only four hours, because the railway stations of Dibiyapur and Etawah are both on the main railway line). However, Shiva's in-laws ignored his pleas, obtained permission from local authorities to cremate her body,(5) and lit the fire at about
11:OO a.m. To make it burn more quickly they had poured fuel oil on the wood.
Shiva's in-laws said that they had noticed her unexpected absence from the house and had gone in search of her. Her body had been found on the railway tracks at the railway station, and they concluded that she had thrown herself in front of a train. They presented this account of Shiva's death during judicial inquiries and also in our interviews with them.
Although it is not uncommon for young married women in India who are harassed by their in-laws to commit suicide, several circumstances in the death of Shiva pointed away from suicide and raised a suspicion of murder. First, there was the history of the quarrel on the evening of May 18, when Shiva had told her uncle that her in-laws had been beating her. Second, rumors began to circulate in Dibiyapur about persons having seen Shiva's in-laws carrying her during the night to the railway station at Phaphoond (just a few hundred meters from their home). They were said to have ex- plained that they were taking her to the hospital. Although there were people around the railway station, it was night, and at one point the lights in the station failed; it would then have been dark, so that a dead body might have been placed on the tracks unobserved. (Firsthand confirmation of this re- port would have been of critical importance, but we were unable to learn even the name of a firsthand informant.) Third, Brijesh Pathak, who saw his niece's body lying on the platform of the railway station before it was taken away by her in-laws, remarked that only the head was injured; he thought it suspicious that a body knocked down by a train was not more extensively damaged.6Fourth, although it is customary to have an inquest and autopsy after any accidental death, the panchnama was signed with suspicious haste, the expressed wishes of Shiva's uncle to delay the cremation until her father could arrive were ignored, and the cremation proceeded with hurriedly. hiding for some months. In 1986 they returned to their home, were arrested, and then released pending an expected trial. In October 1987 the judicial inquiry was continuing with the usual delays of such proceedings.hiding for some months. In 1986 they returned to their home, were arrested,hiding for some months. In 1986 they returned to their home, were arrested,Ram Siya Tripathi arrived at Dibiyapur around 2:00 in the afternoon of May 19. By that time the cremation fire had reduced his daughter's body to ashes. After considering all that he could learn about the circumstances of her death, he complained to the police, and they began a belated inquiry. Later, he filed a formal charge of murder against Shiva's in-laws. Shiva's husband and father-in-law were arrested and then released for lack of evidence. Her mother-in-law and sister-in-law absconded and remained in


hiding for some months. In 1986 they returned to their home, were arrested,
and then released pending an expected trial. In October 1987 the judicial
inquiry was continuing with the usual delays of such proceedings.


On the facts available to us, we must suspend judgment about how Shiva died. That she died violently and after a quarrel with her in-laws on the night of May 18- 19, 1985 is established. Her in-laws may have killed her and put her body on the railway tracks to simulate a suicide; or she may have thrown herself in front of a train during a trough of depression following the quarrel with her in-laws.

Sumitra's Statements About the Life and Death of Shiva

Sumitra's statements made after her revival may be divided into three groups. The first group consists of names of persons and places that the newspaper accounts of Shiva's death and her father's lawsuit had published. We think it extremely unlikely that anyone communicated even the fact of Shiva's death, to say nothing of its details, to Sumitra or her family. How- ever, as we have mentioned, some newspapers were circulated in the general area of Sharifpura, and so we must assume that Sumitra's family might have learned about Shiva's death normally. This means we cannot count as paranormally derived any of the names Sumitra stated that had appeared in newspaper accounts.
A second group of Sumitra's statements remains unverified. We refer to her account of Shiva's final quarrel with her in-laws and of how her sister-in-law had hit her on the head with a brick, after which her body was laid on the tracks at the railway station to simulate suicide. Nothing refutes these statements, but they remain unverified and may be wrong.
A third group of statements, those concerned with nicknames and private affairs not published in the newspapers, includes statements that we think contain information Sumitra could not have obtained normally. We learned of 19 items that we felt justified in placing in this, the most important group. These showed that Sumitra had knowledge of: a particular yellow sari that Shiva had owned, a watch that had belonged to Shiva and the box (in the Tripathi home) in which it was kept, the respective order of birth of Shiva's maternal uncles (although one who was younger actually looked older than one of the older uncles), one of Shiva's nicknames familiarly used in the home (Shiv Shanker), the names of two educational institutions where Shiva had studied (Sarvodya College and Sorawal Intermediate College), the pet names of Shiva's two children (Rinku and Tinku), the names of two friends of Shiva who happened to have the same name, and the names of Shiva's two brothers, two of her sisters, two of her maternal uncles, a maternal aunt (by marriage), and a nephew.

Sumitra 's Recognitions of Shiva's Family Members and Friends

Observers of recognitions in cases suggestive of reincarnation- of which the present case may be considered a variant- frequently vitiate them by
asking leading questions or by cueing the subject with glances directed toward the person to be recognized (Stevenson, 1975, pp. 39-40). Nevertheless, there remain several circumstances in which recognitions may occur that deserve credit as showing paranormal knowledge on the part of the subject. These are: recognitions that the subject makes spontaneously without anyone's having asked him or her to identify another person; recognitions that occur when the subject is confronted with a person and asked a question like: "Do you know who this person is?" or "Tell me who I am"; and recognitions in which the subject immediately afterward adds a state- ment about some intimate detail, perhaps a nickname, not known outside a small circle of family and friends. We learned of 12 members of Shiva's family and circle of friends whom Sumitra recognized under conditions that we believe excluded cueing. We shall describe the circumstances of seven of Sumitra's recognitions, including one in which cueing might have played a part and six in which we think it did not.


  • 1. Ram Siya Tripathi,Shiva's father.When he first went to Sharifpura,he introduced himself outside the house and someone told Sumitra, who was then inside, that "her father" (that is, Shiva's) had come to the house. We therefore attach no significance to Sumitra's telling Ram Siya Tripathi what his name was. However, she called him "Papa" (as Shiva had) and wept. Also, when Ram Siya Tripathi asked her, Sumitra immediately stated two pet names by which Shiva was sometimes called in her family: Aruna and Shiv Shanker. The first of these names, Aruna, had been published in a newspaper report of Shiva's death, but the second had not.
  • 2. Baleshwar Prasad Chaturvedi, Shiva's maternal uncle by marriage. Sumitra recognized him at the time he accompanied Ram Siya Tripathi to Sharifpura. Asked who he was, Sumitra at first said he was Arvind's father. (Arvind was one of Shiva's maternal uncles.) Asked to try again, Sumitra then said that Baleshwar Prasad Chaturvedi was the father of Arvind's wife. This was correct.
  • 3. Ram Rani, Shiva's mother. This recognition occurred at the time of Sumitra's first visit to Etawah. Ram Siya tried to mislead Sumitra by telling her that her (Shiva's) mother was standing in a group of other women at the Tripathi house. In fact, Ram Rani had gone inside the house and was not in this group of women. Sumitra insisted that her (that is, Shiva's) mother was not among the group of other women; she then went into the house and searched for Shiva's mother whom she found and embraced tearfully. (Attempts were also made in another instance to mislead Sumitra deliberately, but failed.) In connection with this recognition we should note that Ram Siya Tripathi had already shown Sumitra a photograph of Ram Rani (see below).
  • 4. Ram Naresh, another of Shiva's maternal uncles. This recognition occurred at the time of Sumitra's first visit to Etawah. Ram Naresh pre-
  • sented himself to Sumitra and said: "Who am I?" Sumitra said: "You are my mother's brother." He said: " Which one?" She replied: " Ram Naresh of Kanpur." He had formerly lived in Kanpur, and had moved to Etawah after Shiva's death.
  • 5. Ram Prakash Dixit, another of Shiva's maternal uncles. He went to Sharifpura (at the end of October, less than 10 days after Ram Siya Tripathi had first met Sumitra). He had grown a beard, which Shiva had never seen. When Sumitra first saw him, he was sitting in front of her and remained silent. She recognized him as Shiva's mother's brother, but was at first unable to give his name. He then spoke a few words, and she immediately recognized his voice and stated his name.
  • 6. Manish, Shiva's nephew (the son of her sister Uma). This recognition occurred in Etawah on November 22, 1985. Sumitra was at the Tripathi house on an upstairs terrace. One of Shiva's brothers, noticing Uma and Manish approaching, drew Sumitra's attention to them. Sumitra looked down and said "Manish has come." Sumitra went down from the ter- race, hugged Uma, and called her "sister." However, this cannot count as a flawless recognition, because Ram Siya Tripathi had already shown Sumitra a photograph of Uma (see below).
  • 7. Krishna Devi Dube, a friend of Shiva's youth. This recognition oc- curred at Sikandarpur when Sumitra visited her mother-in-law's family, in February 1986. More than eight years earlier, Krishna Devi and Shiva had known each other when Shiva used to visit one of her mater- nal uncles (Brijesh Pathak) in the village of Kainjari, Krishna Devi's native place. When Krishna Devi married, she moved to Sikandarpur and had not met Shiva for more than eight years prior to Shiva's death. When Sumitra saw Krishna Devi, she said: "Jiji! How come you are here? I died and have come into a Thakur's family and am helpless." Shiva would have known normally that Krishna Devi had married and moved to Sikandarpur; nevertheless, the Shiva personality of Sumitra- if we may use that expression here- seemed surprised to meet Krishna Devi in Sikandarpur. Shiva, when alive, had called Krishna Devi "Jiji." This word means "sister," and although Shiva and Krishna Devi were not real sisters, close female friends in India may use this form of address with each other.

In addition to the above mentioned and other recognitions of living persons, Sumitra was able to recognize 15 members of Shiva's family in photo- graphs. When Ram Siya Tripathi first met Sumitra in Sharifpura, he showed her eight photographs in an album that he had brought. One was of his wife and children that was taken in 1967, that is, about 18 years earlier. Sumitra correctly identified all six persons in the photograph: Ram Siya Tripathi, his wife, his mother, his daughter Uma, his son Raman, and his daughter Shiva. Of the last, Sumitra said: "This is me."
Sumitra correctly identified and named all the persons in the photograph. (Some of these persons figured in the previous photograph and in others shown to Sumitra.)
Another photograph showed three adult women, two of them holding infants. Sumitra identified Shiva's mother in it and said the child on her lap was Shiva's brother Raman. She then said that one of the other women was a maternal aunt. She said the third woman was possibly another aunt, but she was unsure of this, and she could not recognize the child on this woman's lap.
Upon seeing a photograph of Shiva's young son Tinku, Sumitra began to cry, said the photograph was of Tinku, and asked where Tinku and Rinku then were.
When a photograph of Shiva's sister-in-law Rama Kanti was shown to Sumitra, she said: " This is Rama Kanti who hit me with a brick." (Ram Siya Tripathi said Sumitra's recognition of this photograph dispelled his remaining doubts about whether his daughter Shiva was possessing her.)
In showing the photographs to Sumitra, Ram Siya Tripathi's attitude appears to have been one of keen interest mixed with skepticism. He said that as he showed Sumitra the photographs in the album, he asked her to identify the persons in them and gave her no cues. She gave the name of each person and usually the relationship of the person to Shiva. The villager, La1 Man Dube, who escorted Ram Siya Tripathi and his relative Baleshwar Prasad Chaturvedi to the house of Sumitra's in-laws in Sharifpura, witnessed Sumitra's recognitions of the photographs as Ram Siya Tripathi showed them to her. He confirmed that her recognizing statements about them were entirely spontaneous and not cued by any remarks the visitors made. We have described only a portion of the photographs she recognized, and we have examined the photographs ourselves. Excluding repetitions- of the same person appearing in more than one of the photographs-sumi- tra was asked to identify 17 persons in the photographs. She unhesitatingly identified 12 of them, identified another three after some hesitation, and failed to recognize two persons.
Ram Siya Tripathi showed the album of photographs to Sumitra when he first met her on October 20, 1985. Although he did not give her cues before she recognized each photograph, he did tell her after she had finished that she had recognized all the people in them correctly. We think it likely also that he communicated to her, if only nonverbally, that she was correct after her statements about each photograph, if not about each person in a photo- graph. Under these circumstances, Sumitra had some advantage in recog- nizing persons she met later in Etawah whose faces she had already seen in the photographs. (We have referred to two of these persons above, Shiva's mother and sister.) However, Sumitra was credited with recognizing and identifying (usually by name) eight members of the family or their circle of friends...
Some of the newspaper accounts of the death of Shiva and of the subsequent judicial inquiry included photographs of Shiva, but these were taken in 1979. The photographs of her as a child (which Sumitra recognized) and the photographs of other members of the Tripathi family had not been published.
In sum, Sumitra recognized 23 members of Shiva's family and acquain- tances either in person or in photographs, some of them in both ways.

Sumitra's Failure to Recognize People and Places Familiar to Her

After her revival from apparent death Sumitra could not recognize the people around her in Sharifpura, such as her husband and her in-laws; they all seemed complete strangers to her. Similarly, when her father came from Angad ka Nagla to see her, she did not recognize him. Ordinarily, she would have greeted him and called him "Father," but instead she said of him: "I do not know him." She was persuaded to go to Angad ka Nagla, and somewhat reluctantly agreed to do so. She said that she had no connections there and no interest in the place. In the village she recognized no one and seemed not to recognizeany of the places with which Sumitra would have been familiar.
Similarly, when Phool Mala, Sumitra's older cousin who had in effect raised her from the age of five, went to see her in Sharifpura, she did not recognize her; nor did she recognize Phool Mala's husband, Risal Singh.
Sumitra, after her revival, showed no interest in her husband and child. She refused her husband's amatory advances for some time and did not acknowledge that her child was hers. Instead, she asked about Shiva's two children. Over a period of some days and weeks, she gradually came to accept her husband and son and to respond appropriately to them. Of her child she said (while still insisting that she was Shiva, not Sumitra): "If I look after this child [meaning Sumitra's son] God will take care of them [meaning Shiva's children]. If I neglect this child, would God not punish me?"
Under this heading we may mention also Sumitra's disorientation for place. For example, when her mother-in-law took her out to the fields for natural functions- the usual site for these in Indian villages- she seemed nonplussed and asked what they were doing in the fields. When her mother-in-law explained, she said: "We have a latrine inside the house [meaning in Etawah and Dibiyapur]." This was correct for both the house of Shiva's parents and that of her in-laws.

Sumitra's Changed Behavior After Reviving

We have already described Sumitra's initial failure (after her revival) to recognize the people around her in Sharifpura, and how, after neglecting her husband and child, she gradually resumed more or less normal relations with them. However, she said that her son was Jagdish Singh's child from his first marriage. Her attitude toward members of the family of her in-laws was
that they were good people and, as she was thrust among them, she would be as gracious about the necessary adjustment as she could be. Nevertheless, there remained important differences in her behavior compared with that before her apparent death and revival. We shall now describe some of these changed behaviors.
Sumitra's Different Identification of Herself and Modes of Addressing Other Persons. Sumitra obstinately insisted that she was Shiva and sometimes would not respond or carry out a request unless she was called Shiva. She addressed her husband, Jagdish Singh, as " Thakur Sahib," showing respect, but distance. Previously she had called him (with the indirection Indian wives commonly use) " Guddi's brother." (Guddi was Jagdish's sister.) For- merly Sumitra had called her father-in-law by a Hindi word "chacha," meaning an uncle; now she called him "Father." Formerly she had called her mother-in-law by a word, "Amma," for mother; now she addressed her by another, more respectful word for mother, "Mataji."
In the month following Sumitra's apparent death and revival, a particu- larly poignant episode occurred. At that season (August) it is customary in northern India for women to show their loyalty to their brothers by tying a short length of string around a brother's wrist. This is known as the rakhi ceremony, and Hindus attach great importance to it. When Sumitra's brother came to Sharifpura and asked her to return with him to Angad ka Nagla for the rakhi ceremony, she refused saying she knew no one at Angad ka Nagla. The brother began weeping and begged her to tie the rakhi string on him. She still refused and began to weep herself saying that she had no brothers near her to whom she could tie the rakhi string. (We have our account of this episode only from Sumitra and have not learned about it from Sumitra's family.)
Different Style of Dress. Sumitra changed her style of dress. She wore her sari in a different manner and put on sandals, which Sumitra, like most village women, had rarely worn. Her new habits of dressing accorded with Shiva's style.
Caste Snobbery. After her revival Sumitra showed, for a time, a definite hauteur toward her in-laws, the Singhs. Thinking of herself as Shiva, a Brahmin, she regarded them, Thakurs, as inferior.
On the occasion of Sumitra's first journey to Etawah with Shiva's father, Ram Siya Tripathi, and her husband, Jagdish Singh, the group stopped at the home of Baleshwar Prasad Chaturvedi in the village of Umrain. After they had eaten a meal, Sumitra told Jagdish Singh: " Please wash the plates and utensils you used. You are a Thakur and they are Brahmins. It does not matter for me [meaning about her plates and utensils], because I am one of them."
Sumitra's Increased Literacy. Sumitra could read a little, and she was able to write letters and occasionally did so. However, the testimony of infor-
mants was concordant that she had never attended school and had attained only a very limited knowledge of reading and writing. After her revival she showed a marked improvement in her ability to read and write. We ob- served her in both of these activities and found her able to read and write Hindi with great facility. However, we wish to emphasize that the significant change in Sumitra's literacy was not in her basic ability to read and write but in her fluency in these activities and in her interest in writing. Whereas formerly she only wrote a letter occasionally, after the change in her person- ality she wrote letters and postcards often to Shiva's family in Etawah.
Other Unusual Behavior. Ram Siya Tripathi said that he noticed in Sumitra some behavior that he regarded as characteristic of Shiva, such as a certain boldness and a tendency to joke. Her husband said that Sumitra, before her apparent death and revival, would usually get up at about 6:00 a.m.; after her death and revival she got up much earlier, at about 4:00 a.m. Shiva had been an early riser; her father said that she used to get up at 5:00 to 5:30 a.m. and even earlier in the summers. One of her uncles commented to us that Shiva used to go to bed earlier and get up earlier than other members of the family. However, we recognize that traits such as we have mentioned in this section are difficult to appraise, and we think they are less important than the others we have mentioned.

Discussion

We propose to discuss what we believe are the four principal interpretations of the case: fraud; cryptomnesia (source amnesia) with secondary personality; secondary personality having paranormal knowledge; and possession of Sumitra's body by the deceased Shiva.

Fraud
We think we can exclude a hoax perpetrated by Sumitra alone. A barely literate village woman in India could not have obtained detailed accurate information about another woman who lived 100 km away without assis- tance. If there was a hoaxing team, who composed it? Sumitra's husband, as a man, could move around more easily than Sumitra, but he was not in a position to go to places like Dibiyapur and Etawah in order to search out unpublished details about the life of Shiva. It has been suggested that the exorcist Vishwa Nath, who had access to Sumitra (although probably never alone) before and after her apparent death and recovery, might have ob- tained information about Shiva and coached Sumitra with the details of which he had knowledge. However, this suggestion also, in our view, fails to take account of the information Sumitra had of the private life of the Tri- pathi family, and it fails to explain her ability to recognize 23 strange per- sons in person or in photographs.
Shiva's in-laws at Dibiyapur had all the information included in Sumitra's statements about Shiva's life and death, but they were already incriminated in Shiva's death and had an interest, therefore, in Sumitra's silence. Sumi- tra's "Shiva personality" was saying publicly that Shiva's in-laws had mur- dered her, and the in-laws could not be suspected of promoting this view of Shiva's death.
Shiva's parental family also had the information included in Sumitra's statements. Ram Siya Tripathi might have collaborated in a hoax. In talking with us, he himself mentioned this possibility. When we asked him whether he thought Sumitra might have learned normally about Shiva he said: "No. If she had done that how could she recognize me and members of my family?'Then he spontaneously added: "People say I have made this case up, but why would I do that? I am gaining nothing, and my [legal] case [against Shiva's in-laws] will not be improved. Sumitra cannot be a witness. I am not getting my daughter back." We think he is correct on these points.
Sumitra and her in-laws might have gained a little status from the change in her behavior and from the social elevation of a "new" family member from the Thakur caste to the Brahmin one. In addition, her husband, who had been away a lot prior to the change, was staying at home more than he had before and presumably giving her more attention. However, all these possible gains seem to us minuscule.

Cryptomnesia
The interpretation of cryptomnesia with secondary personality suggests that Sumitra somehow obtained information about Shiva's life normally without being aware that she had done so and also without her family being aware of this. She would then have used the information in the construction of a secondary personality (Stevenson, 1983b). As mentioned, information published in the newspapers about Shiva's death may have reached persons in Sharifpura, even though we found no evidence that it had. The next steps are, however, difficult to imagine. How could the published information- and much else besides- have been passed on to Sumitra without others being aware that this had happened? Moreover, how could information in a verbal form have enabled Sumitra to recognize many members of Shiva's family in person and in old photographs? Such recognitions depend on tacit knowing that cannot be conveyed in words (Polanyi, 1966).'
Apart from the newspapers there were the traders who went between Sharifpura and Etawah and the women of the neighboring village of Murra who were married in Dibiyapur or nearby. The latter group particularly drew our attention. If one or two of them had brought the news of Sumitra's death, revival, and changed personality to Dibiyapur, could they not also have been conduits for information from Dibiyapur about Shiva's death and other details of her life? We spent considerable time both at Dibiyapur and Murra in probing for ways in which this might have happened, and we
cannot see any way in which it could. Although Murra and Sharifpura are only 2 km apart by road (and closer across the fields), there is little inter- course between the villagesexcept on special occasions. Because they are so close, they are considered twin villages and each is inside the other's bound- aries for acceptable exogamy; therefore, there are no marriages between the two villages. At the same time, the villages are far enough apart so that the inhabitants of one do not meet those of the other when they are at work in their fields. One informant of Sharifpura, who lived less than 60 m from Sumitra's house (and was distantly related to her), assured us that it would have been "impossible" for women of Murra to have told or taught Sumitra what she knew about Shiva's family. Again, even supposing that the women of Murra had brought back and somehow conveyed to Sharifpura some news of Shiva's death, such knowledge as they may have had would not have accounted for all of Sumitra's knowledge of Shiva's private life and for her ability to recognize so many persons known to Shiva, but whom Sumitra had never seen before.

Secondary Personality With Paranormal Knowledge
Most secondary personalities do not demonstrate paranormal knowledge; *but a few exceptions have occurred, and the case of Doris Fischer (Prince, 1915- 1916, 1926) belongs in this small group. There is no evidence that Sumitra had any powers of extrasensory perception before her apparent death and revival. However, if she somehow acquired such powers she might conceivably have obtained information paranormally about the life and death of Shiva and then developed a secondary personality with that information. The sudden enhancement of Sumitra's ability to read and write makes the case parallel to that of Pearl Curran; she was a person of extremely modest education whose secondary personality, "Patience Worth," wrote a series of remarkable historical novels that seemed far beyond the normal capacities of Mrs. Curran (Litvag, 1972; Prince, 1927). However, "Patience Worth" showed little evidence of telepathy and certainly nothing like what Sumitra demonstrated, if we attribute her knowledge of details of Shiva's life to that process.

Possession
The evidence that Sumitra's case provides of paranormally acquired information invites comparison between it and the cases of Lurancy Vennum (Hodgson, 1901;Stevens, 1887) and Maria Talarico (Giovetti, 1985; Scambio, 1939). However, these were cases in which the change of personality was so marked that the term possession seemed applicable to them. And this is the fourth interpretation we wish considered for the present case.
If the other interpretations we have mentioned should be set aside as inadequately accounting for all the facts of the case, we are led to consider that a drastic change of personality occurred. When personality becomes
altered unrecognizably, taking on the attributes and the knowledge a deceased personality was known to have, it may be best to speak of the change as a type of possession or reincarnation. Although we do not dogmatically assert that this is the correct interpretation of this case, we believe much of the evidence makes it the most plausible one.

Endnotes
(1)
Possession states occur in many other countries, one might almost say in all of them. However, we think it unnecessary to review the unmanageably extensive literature on this subject, all the more so since adequate reviews with further references have been published elsewhere(Bourguignon, 1976: Lewis, 1971:Pattison, Kahan, & Hurd, 1986). We should like to record our agreement with Lewis (197 I, pp. 29- 30), who warned against the futility of trying to find a single interpretation that will fit all cases of ostensible possession. The word possession labels many conditions of various types and different origins and processes.
(2) Although we shall refer to knowledge ostensibly obtained without the known sensory organs as paranormal knowledge, we do not mean thereby to beg the question of how such knowledge is communicated. However, the important question in any specific case, including the one of this paper, is whether such knowledge has been obtained, not how it was obtained.(3) The absence of adequate written records in the villages makes some of the dates and ages that we give in this report approximate only. However, we know precisely the dates of Shiva's death and of Sumitra's later apparent death and revival.(4)Santoshi Ma is a Hindu goddess regarded as the special protector of pious and faithful women. She was little known until this century and is not even mentioned in some standard works of reference for Hinduism, such as Walker (196811983). An immensely successful mov- ing picture film about her in the 1970s both expressed and promoted the cult of Santoshi Ma in regions of northern India. Villagers of Uttar Pradesh would regard apparent communications from Santoshi Ma and seeming possession by her as unusual, but not pathological.(5)The legal formalities for cremation of a body in a village of India require that five notables of the village sign a document (called a panchnama, which means "five names") authorizing cremation. Although some of the persons forming such committees are honest and incorruptible, many of them, at least in small villages, are likely to be friendly with the family of a deceased person and will do the family's bidding with and without bribery. Not surprisingly, observers give no credence to a panchnama if other evidence points to suspicious circumstances.(6)However, if a train strikes a living person the head alone may be damaged either by impact with the train itself or if the body is lifted, thrown away from the train, and falls so that the head strikes the ground first. A more suspicious circumstance to us in this case is the location of the dead body within the rails of a single line. We find it difficult to believe that a person intending to commit suicide could have thrown herself so neatly in front of a train as to remain, after the train had passed, within the two rails of a track. We should have expected the train either to have thrown the body away from the line or to have run over it and severed it in two or more parts.(8)It would be more accurate to say that secondary personalities are not observed or not reported often to demonstrate paranormal knowledge. This may be partly due to the failure of observers to examine open-mindedly the evidence that some cases, such as the present one in our view, provide.

References
Bourguignon, E. (1976). Possession. San Francisco: Chandler and Sharp.
Carstairs, M., & Kapur, R. L. (1976). The great universe of Kota: Stress, change and mental
disorder in an Indian village. London: The Hogarth Press.
Claus, P. J. (1979). Spirit possession and spirit mediumship from the perspective of Tulu oral
traditions. Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry, 3, 29-52.
Giovetti, P. (1985). Lo storico caso di possessione di Siano (Catanzaro). Luce e Omhra, 85,
55- 59. Hodgson,R.(1901).ReportofmeetingofS.P.R.JournaloftheSociety,forPsychicalResearch,
10, 98- 104.
Lewis, I. M. (1971). Ecstatic religion: An anthropological study of spirit possession and sha-
manism. Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books.
Litvag, I. (1972). Singer in the shadows: The strange story of Patience Worth. New York:
Macmillan.
Pattison, E. M., Kahan, J., & Hurd, G. S. (1986). Trance and possessionstates. In B. B. Wolman
& M. Ullman (Eds.), Handbook ofstates oj'consciousness (pp. 286-310). New York: Van
Nostrand Reinhold.
Polanyi, M. (1966). The tacit dimension. Garden City, NY: Doubleday.
Prince, W. F. (1915-1916). The Doris case of multiple personality. Proceedingsof the American
Societyfur PsychicalResearch, 9-IO, 1-1419.
Prince, W. F. (1926). The psychic in the house. Boston: Boston Society for Psychic Research. Prince, W. F. (1927). The case of Patience Worth. Boston: Boston Society for Psychic Research. Scambio,G.(1939).Strano fenomenodi personalit2indotta in una giovanedi Siano. La ricerca
psichica (Luce e Ombra), 39, 349- 362.
Stevens, E. W. (1887). The Watseka wonder:A narrative of startlingphenomena occurringin the
case of Mary Lzirancy Vennum.Chicago: Religio-Philosophical Publishing House. Stevenson, I. (1974a). Twenty cases suggestive of reincarnation (2d rev. ed.). Charlottesville:
University Press of Virginia. (First published in 1966.)
Stevenson, 1. (1974b). Xenoglossy: A review and report of a case. Charlottesville: University
Press of Virginia.
Stevenson, I. (1975). Cases of the reincarnation type. I. Ten cases in India. Charlottesville:
University Press of Virginia.
Stevenson, I. (1983a). Cases ofthe reincarnation type. IV . Twelve cases in Thailand and Burma.
Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia.
Stevenson, I. (1983b). Cryptomnesia and parapsychology. Journal of the Society for Psychical
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sity Press of Virginia.
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Journal of Psychiatry, 136, 159 1- 1592.
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patients. Indian Journal of Psychiatry, 12, 71-87.
Walker, B. (1983). Hindu world: An encyclopedia survey of Hinduism (2 vols.). New Delhi:
Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers. (First published in 1968.)



Sunday, May 27, 2012

IAN STEVENSON - The Similarity of Features of Reincarnation Type Cases over Many Years: A Third Study


Journal of Scientic Exploration, Vol. 17, No. 2, pp. 283–289, 2003
Abstract
The principal features of two series of cases suggestive of reincarnation in Lebanon were compared. The series were investigated about a generation apart by two different investigators. In three important features, the two series were closely similar; in other features they were not similar, probably because of differences in the thoroughness of investigation in the two series. Keywords: reincarnation cases—stability of features


Introduction 
Children who claim to remember a previous life (PL) occur in many different countries and cultures. Investigators can find them most readily in South Asia and western Asia, but they occur also in Europe and North America (Stevenson, l987/2001). In many cases, inquiries have shown that the child’s statements correspond to facts and events in the life of a particular deceased person. In many of these verified or ‘‘solved’’ cases, investigators have found no normal means whereby information about the concerned deceased person could have reached the subject of the case. In other cases, however, careful inquiries have failed to verify the child’s statements; such cases remain ‘‘unsolved’’ (Cook et al, l983). In addition to the child’s statements, many cases include behavior by the child that is unusual in the child’s family but that corresponds to the child’s statements or to the life and death of the deceased person. For example, among 47 cases in which the child described a previous life that ended in death by drowning, 30 (64%) subjects had a phobia of being immersed in water (Stevenson, 1990). In many other cases the subject has birthmarks or birth defects that correspond closely in location and shape to wounds or other marks on the concerned deceased person (Stevenson, 1997). 
Despite the evidence supporting a paranormal interpretation of some of these cases, some critics have attributed them to a combination of normal (but unnoticed) communications, fantasies (deriving in large part from the belief in reincarnation in the cultures where most of the cases are found), and coincidence. A condensed name for this interpretation is the ‘‘socio-psychological hypothesis’’ (Brody, 1979; Littlewood, 2001; Schouten & Stevenson, 1998). We believe that the stability of some features of cases of the reincarnation type weighs against the view that they derive from fantasies; we remain fully aware, however, that the cases minimally require evidence of a paranormal process before we can invoke reincarnation as their best interpretation. 
Two previous examinations of the stability of features of these cases over time, in India (Pasricha & Stevenson, l987) and in Turkey (Keil & Stevenson, 1999), have shown such stability. In India, the stability occurred in cases two generations apart; in Turkey, the compared series of cases were one generation apart. This article reports a third study of the stability of features of cases of the reincarnation type, this one concerning cases among the Druses of Lebanon. The Druses (sometimes spelled Druzes) form a fairly compact and substantial religious group in Lebanon and neighboring countries. Although their religion originally derived from Islam, the Druses now regard it as separate from Islam. Reincarnation is a central tenet of their beliefs. They have numerous cases of children who claim to remember previous lives (Stevenson, 1966/l974, 1980). One of us (I.S.) investigated Druse cases of the reincarnation type between l964 and l981. The civil wars in Lebanon then interrupted investigations there. E.H. resumed the investigations in 1998–2001. The median year of investigation for the I.S. cases was l972 and that for the E.H. cases was l999. The two series, therefore, occurred about a generation apart. 


Methods of Investigation 
Interviews with firsthand witnesses of the child’s statements and of any unusual behavior on the part of the child formed the principal method of investigation. In solved cases, qualified informants for the life of the identified deceased person, such as a widow or widower, were interviewed. When feasible, we checked dates provided by informants’ memories against Identity Cards or other records. (Identity Cards, however, were often unreliable in Lebanon in the l970s and l980s.) Relevant medical records were also sought and copied. 
We made notes as the informants talked. Skilled interpreters assisted us in most cases. We recorded demographic data on a Registration Form. A checklist (on the Form) of salient features permitted us to conduct somewhat systematic interviews, so that, in general, we elicited similar information about the different cases. Nevertheless, the emphases of our investigations differed to some extent. In his investigations, I.S. concentrated on examining the evidence for or against paranormal interpretations of the case. In contrast, E.H. concentrated on psychological characteristics of the subjects. He satisfied himself concerning the authenticity of the cases he wished to include in a program of psychological testing, which would be similar to one he had conducted for cases in Sri Lanka (Haraldsson, 1995, l997; Haraldsson, Fowler, & Periyannanpillai, 2000; Haraldsson & Abu-Izzeddin, 2002). Therefore, with a few exceptions, he did not investigate the cases of his series in as much detail as I.S. had for his series. Coders, examining the array of details in the case notes, judged the ‘‘thoroughness’’ of each investigation. They judged 29 (more than half) of the I.S.’s cases to have been ‘‘thoroughly’’ or ‘‘fairly thoroughly’’ investigated, whereas only 4 (13%) of E.H.’s cases were so judged. Nevertheless, E.H. obtained sufficient data about the cases he studied for the purposes of the present comparisons. For some other comparisons the data from the E.H. series were insufficient. 
The data from the Registration Forms, field notes, and any printed records were entered in a codebook and then into SPSS Ver. 10.1 so that we could make the comparisons we wished. 


Results 
The I.S. series had 55 cases; 39 (71%) of the subjects were male and 16 (29%) female. The E.H. series had 30 cases; 19 (63%) of the subjects were male and 11 (37%) female. (Other series of cases have usually shown a preponderance of male subjects the reasons for which need not detain us here [Stevenson, 1987/ 2001].) In every case, the past lives to which the subjects referred were those of Druse persons. 
The birth years of the I.S. cases ranged between 1907 and 1974 with a mean of 1952. The birth years of the E.H. cases ranged between 1984 and l993 with a mean of 1989. The means of the subjects’ ages when their cases were first investigated were 20 years for the I.S. series and 10.5 years for the E.H. series. As mentioned, E.H. was primarily interested in finding young subjects who could be given psychological tests. His assistant, who was ascertaining cases for him, directed him only toward cases of which the subjects were still children. The oldest subject in his series was 13 years old, whereas 30 (more than half) of the subjects in the IS series were more than 13 years old when their cases were first investigated.





Features of Cases on Side of the Subject 


Subject’s Age When First Speaking about Previous Life. In the I.S. series, the mean age of first instance of speaking about the previous life was 31 months (range: 12–66). In the E.H. series, the mean age of first instance of speaking about the previous life was 32 months (range: 18–48). 
Subject’s Age When Stopped Speaking about Previous Life. In the I.S. series the mean age when the subject stopped speaking spontaneously about the previous life was 161 months (13 years) (range: 102–336 months). For the E.H. series, the mean age for no longer speaking spontaneously about the previous life was 67 months (5.6 years) (range: 60–74 months). 
Number and Kind of Statements Subjects Made about Previous Life. In the I.S. series, the mean number of statements about the previous life the subjects made was 23 (range: 3–74). For the E.H. series the mean number of statements about the previous life was 10.3 (range: 3–23). In the I.S. series, the subject mentioned the mode of death in 42 (82%) cases. In the E.H. series, 25 subjects (83%) mentioned the mode of death. In the I.S. series, 43 (88%) subjects mentioned the previous personality’s name. In the E.H. series, 19 (63%) of the subjects mentioned the previous personality’s name. In the I.S. series, 31 (56%) of the subjects mentioned or otherwise indicated the previous personality’s place of residence. In the E.H. series, 16 (53%) of the subjects did this. 
Unusual Behavior on the Part of the Subject. Phobias related to the previous life (usually to the mode of death) occurred frequently in both series. Phobias occurred in 77% of the I.S. cases and in 42% of the E.H. cases. These incidences of phobias exceed those found in the cases of other cultures. Among 179 solved cases of five other cultures (Burma [now Myanmar], India, Sri Lanka, Thailand, and the United States [nontribal cases]), phobias occurred in 60 (33%) cases. 
Many children who say they remember a previous life behave as if they were still adults. For example, they may assume a parental role toward the previous personality’s children; they may address adults familiarly instead of deferentially as most children would; and they may be capable of assuming greater responsibilities than the usual child of the same age. We classify such behavior as ‘‘adult attitude.’’ We observed some examples of ‘‘adult attitude’’ among the Druse cases. Suleyman Andary, for example, showed it to such an extent that he was nicknamed ‘‘mukhtar’’ (Arabic for headman) (Stevenson, l980). Nevertheless, we also found the trait difficult to appraise because of the tendency of the subjects’ parents in Lebanon (and elsewhere) to think of the subjects as superior persons with consequential effects on the children’s behavior. Accordingly, we do not include here any figure for the incidence of ‘‘adult attitude.’’ 


Identification and Features of Previous Personality 


For convenience only and without commitment to any interpretation of the cases, we refer to the concerned deceased person in a case as the ‘‘previous personality.’’ The term is useful whether or not the families concerned or the investigators have identified a deceased person correctly corresponding to the subject’s statements. Cases with and without the identification of such a person are regarded respectively as ‘‘solved’’ and ‘‘unsolved.’’ For the reasons stated, I.S. and E.H. dealt with the verification of the subjects’ statements differently. By conducting independent verifications, I.S. classified 41 (74%) of his cases as solved. E.H., however, investigated only four of his cases thoroughly. He did not consider the other cases in his series necessarily solved, although 93% of the subjects’ families in his series believed that they were solved. 
Mode of Death. In both series, a high incidence of violent mode of death occurred. In the I.S. series, the previous personality died violently in 36 (73%) of cases. In the E.H. series, violent death occurred in 24 (80%) of cases. 
Previous Personality’s Age at Death. In keeping with the high incidence of violent death, both series showed a young age of the previous personality at the time of death. In the I.S. series, the mean age at death of the previous personalities was 34 years; in the E.H. series, it was 38 years. 
Interval between Previous Personality’s Death and Subject’s Birth. The mean interval between the previous personality’s death and the subject’s birth was 23 months in the I.S. series and 46 months in the E.H. series. Tables 1 and 2 summarize the results of the principal comparisons between the series. They provide for each variable the number of cases from which the data derived.


Discussion 


Before discussing the similarities and differences between the two series of cases, we will mention that some demographic features of the cases in both series are not representative of the general population in Lebanon. Unfortunately, we have few data to support this statement. We have not learned of any accurate vital statistics about the population of Lebanon for the years of the I.S. series. The collection of such statistics was at first inhibited for political reasons and then made impossible during the civil wars of the 1970s and l980s. For 1999, the life expectancy in Lebanon was 68 years for men and 72 years for women (United Nations, 2001). The mean age at death of the previous personalities was 34 in the I.S. series and 38 in the E.H. series. We have not obtained any figures for the incidence of violent death in the general population of Lebanon. Nevertheless, we believe the incidence of violent death in both series far exceeds that in the general population. 
We should mention that the cases among the Druses differ from those of many other cultures (but not all) in the absence of claims to remember the life of a person of the opposite sex. Also, birthmarks and birth defects rarely occur in cases among the Druses. 
The features of the two series were similar in some important respects, but differed in others. They were similar in such salient features as the age of first speaking of the previous life, mention of the mode of death by the subject, and the high incidence of a violent mode of death. 
A noteworthy difference between the two series occurred in the age when the subjects stopped speaking about the previous life. We may explain this difference by the different ages of the subjects at the time the cases of the two series were investigated. As mentioned, E.H. sought to study subjects who were children, and the oldest subject in his series was only 13 years old. I.S. included many subjects who were older children or even already adults. Only four of the children in E.H.’s series had stopped speaking spontaneously about the previous life at the time of his investigations. 
I.S. required verification from the previous personality’s family members before he considered a case solved. E.H. could not state how many of the cases in his series were solved. He only recorded that 93% of the subjects’ families believed the case with which they were concerned had been solved. The difference in verification may explain the lower incidence of cases considered solved in the I.S. series. 
Some other differences between the two series, such as the number of statements the subjects made and the incidence of phobias, may derive from the greater attention I.S. gave, both to the recording and independent verification of the subject’s statements and to evaluating the appropriateness of any unusual behavior on the part of the subject to the life or behavior of the previous personality. Different informants often remember different statements they heard the subject make. Cases judged to have been investigated ‘‘thoroughly’’ or ‘‘fairly thoroughly’’ have more informants. For the four cases that E.H. investigated thoroughly, the mean number of statements was 18, which was almost twice as many as the mean for the 30 E.H. cases considered as a whole. 
The similarities between the two series—the age of first speaking of the previous life, the mention of the mode of death by the subject, and the high incidence of a violent mode of death—show that the cases of children who claim to remember a previous life are a recurrent phenomenon. Although the stability of some features of the cases over many years seems important to us as weighing against their interpretation as fantasies, a judgment about reincarnation as a better interpretation depends on evidence of paranormal processes in individual cases.


Acknowledgments
The research of the Division of Personality Studies is supported by the Lifebridge Foundation, the Azuma Nagamasa Memorial Fund, the Bernstein Brothers Foundation, Richard Adams, and several anonymous donors. The Bial Foundation supported E.H.’s investigations in Lebanon of cases of the reincarnation type among the Druses. We thank Dawn E. Hunt and Martha Mercier for careful checking of the data in the paper. Dr. Emily Kelly improved it with numerous critical comments. We benefited from a careful reading of the paper by Dr. Jim Tucker. Dr. Alan Gauld and Dr. Jürgen Keil both provided cautionary advice about the interpretation of our results. 


References
Brody, E. B. (1979). Review of Cases of the Reincarnation Type. Vol. II. Ten Cases in Sri Lanka by Ian Stevenson. Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease, 167, 769–774. Cook, E.W., Pasricha, S., Samararatne, G., Win Maung, & Stevenson, I. (1983). A review and analysis of ‘‘unsolved’’ cases of the reincarnation type. Part II: Comparison of features of solved and unsolved cases. Journal of the American Society for Psychical Research, 77, 115–135. Haraldsson, E. (1995). Personality and abilities of children claiming previous life memories. Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease, 183, 445–451. Haraldsson, E. (1997). A psychological comparison between ordinary children and those who claim previous-life memories. Journal of Scienti c Exploration, 11, 323–335. Haraldsson, E., Fowler, P., & Perriyannanpillai, V. (2000). Psychological characteristics of children who speak of a previous life. A further eld study in Sri Lanka. Transcultural Psychiatry, 37, 525– 544. Haraldsson, E., & Abu-Izzeddin, M. (2002). Development of certainty about the correct deceased person in a case of the reincarnation type: The case of Nazih Al-Danaf. Journal of Scienti c Exploration, 16, 363–380. Keil, J., & Stevenson, I. (1999). Do cases of the reincarnation type show similar features over many years? A study of Turkish cases a generation apart. Journal of Scienti c Exploration, 13, 189–198. Littlewood, R. (2001). Social institutions and psychological explanations: Druze reincarnation as a therapeutic resource. British Journal of Medical Psychology, 74, 213–222. Pasricha, S., & Stevenson, I. (1987). Indian cases of the reincarnation type two generations apart. Journal of the Society for Psychical Research, 54, 239–246. Schouten, S., & Stevenson, I. (1998). Does the socio-psychological hypothesis explain cases of the reincarnation type? Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease, 186, 504–506. Stevenson, I. (1966/1974). Twenty Cases Suggestive of Reincarnation. 2nd ed. rev. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia. (First published in l966.) Stevenson, I. (1980). Cases of the Reincarnation Type. Vol. III. Twelve Cases in Lebanon and Turkey. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia. Stevenson, I. (1990). Phobias in children who claim to remember previous lives. Journal of Scienti c Exploration, 4, 243–254. Stevenson, I. (1997). Reincarnation and Biology: A Contribution to the Etiology of Birthmarks and Birth Defects. Westport, CT: Praeger. Stevenson, I. (1987/2001). Children Who Remember Previous Lives: A question of Reincarnation. Rev. ed. Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company. (First published in l987; Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia.) United Nations. (2001). Demographic Yearbook 1999. New York: United Nations.

Lord Arthur Balfour - M. Bergson


M. Bergson
 - Lord Arthur Balfour -
           WITH THE arguments of Foundations of Belief I do not propose to trouble the reader. But it may make clearer what I have to say about L'Evolution creatrice if I mention that (among other conclusions) I arrive at the conviction that in accepting science, as we all do, we are moved by 'values' not by logic. That if we examine fearlessly the grounds on which judgments about the material world are founded, we shall find that they rest on postulates about which it is equally impossible to say that we can theoretically regard them as self-evident, or practically treat them as doubtful. We can neither prove them nor give them up. 'Concede' (I argued) the same philosophic weight to values in departments of speculation which look beyond the material world, and naturalism will have to be abandoned. But the philosophy of science would not lose thereby. On the contrary, an extension of view beyond phenomena diminishes rather than increases the theoretical difficulties with which bare naturalism is beset. It is not by a mere reduction in the area of our beliefs that, in the present state of our knowledge, certainty and consistency are to be reached. Such a reduction could not be justified by philosophy. But, justifiable or not, it would be quite impracticable. 'Values' refuse to be ignored.

A scheme of thought so obviously provisional has no claim to be a system, and the question therefore arises - at least, it arises for me - whether the fruitful philosophic labours of the last twenty years have found answers to the problem which I find most perplexing? I cannot pretend to have followed as closely as I should have desired the recent developments of speculation in Britain and America - still less in Germany, France, or Italy. Even were it otherwise, I could not profitably discuss them within the compass of an article. But the invitation to consider from this point of view a work so important as L'Evolution creatrice, by an author so distinguished as M. Bergson, I have found irresistible.

There cannot be a topic which provides a more fitting text for what I have to say in this connection than Freedom. To the idealist, Absolute spirit is free; though when we come to the individual soul I am not sure that its share of freedom amounts (in most systems) to very much. To the naturalistic thinker there is, of course, no Absolute, and no soul. Psychic phenomena are a function of the nervous system. The nervous system is material, and obeys the laws of matter. Its behaviour is as rigidly determined as the planetary orbits, and might be accurately deduced by a being sufficiently endowed with powers of calculation, from the distribution of matter, motion, and force, when the solar system was still nebular. To me, who am neither idealist nor naturalist, freedom is a reality; partly because, on ethical grounds, I am not prepared to give it up; partly because any theory which, like 'naturalism,' requires reason to be mechanically determined, is (I believe) essentially incoherent; and if we abandon mechanical determinism in the case of reason, it seems absurd to retain it in the case of will; partly because it seems impossible to find room for the self and its psychic states in the interstices of a rigid sequence of material causes and effects. Yet the material sequence is there; the self and its states are there; and I do not pretend to have arrived at a satisfactory view of their reciprocal relations. I keep them both, conscious of their incompatibilities.

A bolder line is taken by M. Bergson, and his point of view, be it right or wrong, is certainly far more interesting. He is not content with refusing to allow mechanical or any other form of determinism to dominate life. He makes freedom the very corner-stone of his system - freedom in its most aggressive shape. Life is free, life is spontaneous, life is incalculable. It is not indeed out of relation to matter, for matter clogs and hampers it. But not by matter is its direction wholly determined, not from matter is its forward impulse derived.

As we know it upon this earth, organic life resembles some great river system, pouring in many channels across the plain. One stream dies away sluggishly in the sand, another loses itself in some inland lake, while a third, more powerful or more fortunate, drives its tortuous and arbitrary windings further and yet further from the snows that gave it birth.

M. Bergson objects to teleology only less than to mechanical determinism. And, if I understand him aright, the vital impulse has no goal more definite than that of acquiring an ever fuller volume of free creative activity.

But what in M. Bergson's theory corresponds to the sources of these multitudinous streams of life? Whence come they? The life we see - the life of plants, of animals, of men - have their origin in the single life which he calls super-consciousness, above matter and beyond it; which divides, like the snow-fields of our simile, into various lines of flow, corresponding to the lines of organic development, described by evolutionary biology. But as the original source of organic life is free, indeterminate, and incalculable, so this quality never utterly disappears from its derivative streams, entangled and thwarted though they be by matter. Life, even the humblest life, does not wholly lose its original birthright, nor does it succumb completely to its mechanical environment.

Now it is evident that if the ultimate reality is this free creative activity, time must occupy a position in M. Bergson's philosophy quite other than that which it holds in any of the great metaphysical systems. For in these, time and temporal relation are but elements within an Absolute, itself conceived as timeless; whereas M. Bergson's Absolute almost resolves itself into time-evolving, as it were by a free effort, new forms at each instant of a continuous flow. A true account of the Absolute would therefore take the form of history. It would tell us of the Absolute that has been and is, the Absolute 'up to date'. Of the Absolute that is to be, no account can be given; its essential contingency puts its future beyond the reach of any Powers of calculation, even were those powers infinite in their grasp.

Now this view of reality, expounded by its author with a wealth of scientific as well as of philosophical knowledge which must make his writings fascinating and instructive to those who least agree with them, suggests far more questions than it would be possible merely to catalogue, much less to discuss, within the limits of this paper. But there is one aspect of the theory from my point of view of fundamental interest, on which something must be said - I mean the relation of M. Bergson's free creative consciousness to organised life and to unorganised matter - to that physical Universe with which biology, chemistry, and physics are concerned.

M. Bergson, while denying that life-will-consciousness, as we know them on this earth of ours, are mere functions of the material organism, does not, as we have seen, deny that they, in a sense, depend on it. They depend on it as a workman depends on a tool. It limits him, though he uses it.

Now the way in which life uses the organism in which it is embodied is by releasing at will the energy which the organism has obtained directly or indirectly from the sun-directly in the cage of plants, indirectly in the case of animals. The plants hoard much but use little. The animals appropriate their savings.

To M. Bergson, therefore, organised life essentially shows itself in the sudden and quasi-explosive release of these accumulations. Indeed he carries this idea so far as to suggest that any material system which should store energy by arresting its degradation to some lower level(1),and should produce effects by its sudden liberation, would exhibit something in the nature of life. But this is surely going too far. There are plenty of machines used for manufacturing or domestic purposes which do just this; while in the realm of nature there seems no essential physical distinction between (on the one hand) the storing up of solar radiation by plants and its discharge in muscular action, and (on the other) the slow production of aqueous vapour, and its discharge during a thunderstorm in torrential rain. Yet all would admit that the first is life, while the second is but mechanism.

(1) This refers to the second law of thermo-dynamics. It is interesting to observe that M. Bergson regards this as philosophically more important than the first law.

It is rash to suggest that a thinker like M. Bergson has wrongly emphasised his own doctrines. Yet I venture, with great diffidence, to suggest that the really important point in this part of his theory, the point where his philosophy breaks finally with 'mechanism,' the point where freedom and indeterminism are really introduced into the world of space and matter, is only indirectly connected with the bare fact that in organic life accumulated energy is released. What is really essential is the manner of its release. If the release be effected by pure mechanism, fate still reigns supreme. If, on the other hand, there be anything in the mode of release, however trifling, which could not be exhaustively accounted for by the laws of matter and motion, then freedom gains a foothold in the very citadel of necessity. Make the hair trigger which is to cause the discharge as delicate as you please, yet if it be pulled by forces dependent wholly upon the configuration and energy of the material universe at the moment, you are nothing advanced. Determinism still holds you firmly in its grip. But if there be introduced into the system a new force - in other words, a new creation - though it be far too minute for any instrument to register, then if it either pull the trigger or direct the explosion, the reality of contingency is established, and our whole conception of the physical world is radically transformed.

This, I conceive, must be M. Bergson's view. But his theory of the relation between life-freedom-will, on the one side, and matter on the other, goes much further than the mere assertion that there is in fact an element of contingency in the movements of living organisms. For he regards this both as a consequence and as a sign of an effort made by creative will to bring mechanism more and more under the control of freedom. Such efforts have, as biology tells us, often proved abortive. Some successes that have been won have had again to be surrendered. Advance, as in the case of many parasites, has been followed by retrogression. By comparing the molluscs, whose torpid lives have been repeating themselves without sensible variation through all our geological records, with man, in whom is embodied the best we know of consciousness and will, we may measure the success which has so far attended the efforts of super-consciousness in this portion of the Universe.

I say, in this portion of the Universe, because M. Bergson thinks it not only possible but probable that elsewhere in space the struggle between freedom and necessity, between life and matter, may be carried on through the sudden liberation of other forms of energy than those which plants accumulate by forcibly divorcing the oxygen and the carbon atoms combined in our atmosphere. The speculation is interesting, though, from the point of view of science, somewhat hazardous. From the point of view of M. Bergson's metaphysic, however, it is almost a necessity. For his metaphysic, like every metaphysic, aims at embracing all reality; and as the relation between life and matter is an essential part of it, the matter with which he deals cannot be restricted to that which constitutes our negligible fraction of the physical world.

But what, according to his metaphysic, is the relation of life, consciousness, in general, to matter in general? His theory of organic life cannot stand alone. For it does not get us beyond individual living things, struggling freely, but separately, with their own organisms, with each other, and with the inert mass of the physical world which lies around them. But what the history of all this may be, whence comes individual life, and whence comes matter, and what may be the fundamental relation between the two, this has still to be explained.

And, frankly, the task of explanation for any one less gifted than M. Bergson himself is not an easy one. The first stage, indeed, whether easy or not, is at least familiar. M. Bergson thinks, with other great masters of speculation, that consciousness, life, spirit is the prius of all that is, be it physical or mental. But let me repeat that the prius is, in his view, no all-inclusive absolute, of which our world, the world evolving in time, is but an aspect or phase. His theory, whatever its subsequent difficulties may be, is less remote from common-sense. For duration with him is, as we have seen, something pre-eminently real. It is not to be separated from the creative consciousness. It is no abstract emptiness, filled up by successive happenings, placed (as it were) end to end. It must rather be regarded as an agent in that continuous process of free creation which is life itself,

Since, then, consciousness and matter are not to be regarded as entities of independent origin, ranged against one another from eternity, like the good and evil principles of Zoroaster, what is the relation between them? If I understand M. Bergson aright, matter must be regarded as a by-product of the evolutionary process. The primordial consciousness falls, as it were, asunder. On the one side it rises to an ever fuller measure of creative freedom; on the other, it lapses into matter, determinism, mechanical adjustment, space. Space with him, therefore, is not, as with most other philosophers, a correlative of Time. It has not the same rank (whatever that may be) in the hierarchy of being. For, while Time is of the essential of primordial activity, Space is but the limiting term of those material elements which are no more than its backwash.

I do not, of course, for a moment delude myself into the belief that I have made these high speculations clear and easy. The reader, justly incensed by my rendering of M. Bergson's doctrine, must find his remedy in M. Bergson's own admirable exposition. I may, however, have done enough to enable me to make intelligible certain difficulties which press upon me, and may, perhaps, press also upon others.

M. Bergson holds that events which, because they are contingent, even infinite powers of calculation could not foresee, may yet be accounted for, even by our very modest powers of thought, after they have occurred. I own this somewhat surprises me. And my difficulty is increased by the reflection that free consciousness pursues no final end, it follows no predetermined design. It struggles, it expends itself in effort, it stretches ever towards completer freedom, but it has no plans.

Of primordial consciousness, however, we know neither the objects nor the opportunities. It follows no designs, it obeys no laws. The sort of explanation, therefore, which satisfies us when we are dealing with one of its organic embodiments, seems hard of attainment in the case of primordial consciousness itself. I cannot, at least, persuade myself that M. Bergson has attained it. Why should free consciousness first produce, and then, as it were, shed, mechanically determined matter? Why, having done so, should it set to work to permeate this same matter with contingency? Why should it allow itself to be split up by matter into separate individualities? Why, in short, should it ever have engaged in that long and doubtful battle between freedom and necessity which we call organic evolution?

Yet fully granting that, in the present state of our knowledge, every metaphysic must be defective, we cannot accept any particular metaphysic without some grounds of belief, be they speculative, empirical, or practical; and the question therefore arises - On what grounds are we asked to accept the metaphysic of M. Bergson?

This brings us to what is perhaps the most suggestive, and is certainly the most difficult, portion of his whole doctrine - I mean his theory of knowledge. The magnitude of that difficulty will be at once realised when I say that in M. Bergson's view not reason, but instinct, brings us into the closest touch, the directest relation, with what is most real in the Universe. For reason is at home, not with life and freedom, but with matter, mechanism, and space - the waste products of the creative impulse. We need not wonder, then, that reason should feel at home in the realm of matter; that it should successfully cut up the undivided flow of material change into particular sequences which are repeated, or are capable of repetition, and which exemplify 'natural laws'; that it should manipulate long trains of abstract mathematical inference, and find that their remotest conclusion fits closely to observed fact. For matter and reason own, according to M. Bergson, a common origin; and the second was evolved in order that we might cope successfully with the first.

Instinct, which finds its greatest development among bees and ants, though incomparably inferior to reason in its range, is yet in touch with a higher order of truth, for it is in touch with life itself. In the perennial struggle between freedom and necessity which began when life first sought to introduce contingency into matter, everything, it seems, could not be carried along the same line of advance. Super-consciousness was like an army suddenly involved in a new and difficult country. If the infantry took one route, the artillery must travel by another. The powers of creation would have been overtasked had it been attempted to develop the instinct of the bee along the same evolutionary track as the reason of the man. But man is not, therefore, wholly without instinct, nor does he completely lack the powers of directly apprehending life. In rare moments of tension, when his whole being is wound up for action, when memory seems fused with will and desire into a single impulse to do, - then he knows freedom, then he touches reality, then he consciously sweeps along with the advancing wave of Time, which, as it moves, creates.

However obscure to reflective thought such mystic utterances may seem, many will read them with a secret sympathy. But, from the point of view occupied by M. Bergson's own philosophy, do they not suggest questions of difficulty? How comes it that if instinct be the appropriate organ for apprehending free reality, bees and ants, whose range of freedom is so small, should have so much of it? How comes it that man, the freest animal of them all, should specially delight himself in the exercise of reason, the faculty brought into existence to deal with matter and necessity? M. Bergson is quite aware of the paradox, but does he anywhere fully explain it?

This is, however, comparatively speaking, a small matter. The difficulties which many will find in the system, as I have just described it, lie deeper. Their first inclination will be to regard it as a fantastic construction, in many parts difficult of comprehension, in no part capable of proof. They will attach no evidential value to the unverified visions attributed to the Hymenoptera, and little to the flashes of illumination enjoyed by man. The whole scheme will seem to them arbitrary and unreal, owing more to poetical imagination than to scientific knowledge or philosophic insight.

Such a judgment would certainly be wrong; and if made at all, will, I fear, be due in no small measure to my imperfect summary. The difficulties of such a summary are indeed very great, not through the defects but the merits of the author summarised. The original picture is so rich in suggestive detail that adequate reproduction on a smaller scale is barely possible. Moreover, M. Bergson's Evolution Creatrice is not merely a philosophic treatise, it has all the charms and all the audacities of a work of Art, and as such defies adequate reproduction. Yet let no man regard it as an unsubstantial vision. One of its peculiarities is the intimate, and, at first sight, the singular, mingling of minute scientific statement with the boldest metaphysical speculation. This is not accidental; it is of the essence of M. Bergson's method. For his metaphysic may, in a sense, be called empirical. It is no a priori construction, any more than it is a branch of physics or biology. It is a philosophy, but a philosophy which never wearies in its appeals to concrete science.

Even the most abstruse and subtle parts of his system make appeal to natural science. Consider, for example, the sharp distinction which he draws between the operations of mechanism and reason on the one side, creation and instinct on the other. Reason, analysing some very complex organ like the eye and its complementary nervous structure, perceives that it is compounded of innumerable minute elements, each of which requires the nicest adjustment if it is to serve its purpose, and all of which are mutually interdependent. It tries to imagine external and mechanical methods by which this intricate puzzle could have been put together - e.g. selection out of chance variations. In M. Bergson's opinion, all such theories - true, no doubt, as far as they go - are inadequate. He supplements or replaces them by quite a different view. From the external and mechanical standpoint necessarily adopted by reason, the complexity seems infinite, the task of co-ordination impossible. But looked at from the inside, from the position which creation occupies and instinct comprehends, there is no such complexity and no such difficulty. Observe how certain kinds of wasp, when paralysing their victim, show a knowledge of anatomy which no morphologist could surpass, and a skill which few surgeons could equal. Are we to suppose these dexterities to be the result of innumerable experiments somehow bred into the race? Or are we to suppose it the result, e.g., of natural selection working upon minute variation? Or are we to suppose it due to some important mutation? No, says M. Bergson; none of these explanations, nor any like them, are admissible. If the problem was one of mechanism, if it were as complicated as reason, contemplating it from without, necessarily supposes, then it would be insoluble. But to the wasp it is not insoluble; for the wasp looks at it from within, and is in touch, through instinct, with life itself.

This enumeration is far from exhausting the biological arguments which M. Bergson draws from his ample stores in favour of his views on the beginnings of organic life. Yet I cannot feel that even he succeeds in quarrying out of natural science foundations strong enough to support the full weight of his metaphysic. Even if it be granted (and by naturalistic thinkers it will not be granted) that life always carries with it a trace of freedom or contingency, and that this grows greater as organisms develop, why should we therefore suppose that life existed before its first humble beginnings on this earth, why should we call in super-consciousness? M. Bergson regards matter as the dam which keeps back the rush of life. Organise it a little (as in the Protozoa) - i.e. slightly raise the sluice - and a little life will squeeze through. Organise it elaborately (as in man) - i.e. raise the sluice a good deal - and much life will squeeze through. Now this maybe a very plausible opinion if the flood of life be really there, beating against matter till it forces an entry through the narrow slit of undifferentiated protoplasm. But is it there? Science, modestly professing ignorance, can stumble along without it; and I question whether philosophy, with only scientific data to work upon, can establish its reality.

In truth, when we consider the manner in which M. Bergson uses his science to support his metaphysic, we are reminded of the familiar theistic argument from design, save that most of the design is left out.

What has happened before may happen again. The apparently inexplicable may find an explanation within the narrowest limits of natural science. Mechanism may be equal to playing the part which a spiritual philosophy had assigned to consciousness. When, therefore, M. Bergson tells us that the appearance of an organ so peculiar as the eye in lines of evolution so widely separated as the molluscs and the vertebrates implies not only a common ancestral origin, but a common pre-ancestral origin; or when he points out how hard it is to account for certain most complicated cases of adaptation by any known theory of heredity, we may admit the difficulty, yet hesitate to accept the solution. We feel the peril of basing our beliefs upon a kind of ignorance which may at any moment be diminished or removed.

Now, I do not suggest that M. Bergson's system, looked at as a whole, suffers from this kind of weakness. On the contrary, I think that if the implications of his system be carefully studied, it will be seen that he draws support from sources of a very different kind, and in particular from two which must be drawn upon (as I think) if the inadequacy of naturalism is to be fully revealed.

The first is the theory of knowledge. If naturalism be accepted, then our whole apparatus for arriving at truth, all the beliefs in which that truth is embodied, reason, instinct, and their legitimate results, are the product of irrational forces. If they are the product of irrational forces, whence comes their authority? If to this it be replied that the principles of evolution, which naturalism accepts from science, would tend to produce faculties adapted to the discovery of truth, I reply, in the first place, that this is no solution of the difficulty, and wholly fails to extricate us from the logical circle. I reply, in the second place, that the only faculties which evolution, acting through natural selection, would tend to produce, are those which enable individuals, or herds, or, societies to survive. Speculative capacity - the capacity, for example, to frame a naturalistic theory of the Universe - if we have it at all, must be a by-product. What nature is really, concerned with is that we should eat, breed, and bring up our young. The rest is accident.

Now M. Bergson does not directly interest himself in this negative argument, on which I have dwelt elsewhere. But I think his whole constructive theory of reason and instinct is really based on the impossibility of accepting blind mechanism as the source the efficient cause - of all our knowledge of reality. His theory is difficult. I am not sure that I am competent either to explain or to criticise it. But it seems to me clear that, great as is the width of scientific detail with which it is illustrated and enforced, its foundations lie far deeper than the natural sciences can dig.

But it is not only in his theory of knowledge that he shows himself to be moved by considerations with which science has nothing to do. Though the point is not explicitly pressed, it is plain that he takes account of 'values,' and is content with no philosophy which wholly ignores them. Were it otherwise, could he speak as he does of 'freedom,' of 'creative will,' of the 'joy' (as distinguished from the pleasure) which fittingly accompanies it? Could he represent the Universe as the battle-ground between the opposing forces of freedom and necessity? Could he look on matter as 'the enemy'? Could he regard mechanism, determinateness, all that matter stands for as not merely in process of subjugation but as things that ought to be subdued by the penetrating energies of free consciousness?

This quasi-ethical ideal is infinitely removed from pure naturalism. It is almost as far removed from any ideal which could be manufactured out of empirical science alone, even granting what naturalism refuses to grant, that organised life exhibits traces of contingency. M. Bergson, if I correctly read his mind, refuses - I think, rightly refuses - to tolerate conceptions so ruinous to 'values' as these must inevitably prove. But can his own conception of the universe stand where he has placed it? By introducing creative will behind development, he has no doubt profoundly modified the whole evolutionary drama. Matter and mechanism have lost their pride of place. Consciousness has replaced them. The change seems great; nay, it is great. But if things remain exactly where M. Bergson leaves them, is the substantial difference so important as we might at first suppose? What is it that consciousness strives for? What does it accomplish? It strives to penetrate matter with contingency. Why, I do not know. But concede the worth of the enterprise. What measure of success can it possibly attain? A certain number of organic molecules develop into more or less plastic instruments of consciousness and will; consciousness and will, thus armed, inflict a few trifling scratches on the outer crust of our world, and perhaps of worlds elsewhere, but the huge mass of matter remains and must remain what it has always been - the undisputed realm of lifeless determinism. Freedom, when all has happened that can happen, creeps humbly on its fringe.

I suggest, with great respect, that in so far as M. Bergson has devised his imposing scheme of metaphysic in order to avoid the impotent conclusions of Naturalism, he has done well. As the reader knows, I most earnestly insist that no philosophy can at present be other than provisional; and that, in framing a provisional philosophy, 'values' may be, and must be, taken into account. My complaint, if I have one, is not that M. Bergson goes too far in this direction, but that he does not go far enough. He somewhat mars his scheme by what is, from this point of view, too hesitating and uncertain a treatment.

It is true that he has left naturalism far behind. His theory of a primordial super-consciousness, not less than his theory of freedom, separates him from this school of thought as decisively as his theory of duration, with its corollary of an ever-growing and developing reality, divides him from the great idealists. It is true also that, according to my view, his metaphysic is religious: since I deem the important philosophic distinction between religious and non-religious metaphysic to be that God, or whatever in the system corresponds to God, does in the former take sides in a moving drama, while, with more consistency, but far less truth, he is, in the non-religious system, represented as indifferently related to all the multiplicity of which he constitutes the unity.

Now, M. Bergson's super-consciousness does certainly take sides, and, as we have seen, his system suffers to the full from the familiar difficulty to which, in one shape or another, all religious systems (as defined) are liable, namely, that the evils or the defects against which the Creator is waging war are evils and defects in a world of His own creating. But as M. Bergson has gone thus far in opposition both to naturalistic and to metaphysical orthodoxies, would not his scheme gain if he went yet further? Are there no other values' which he would do well to consider? His superconsciousness has already some quasi-aesthetic and quasi-moral qualities. We must attribute to it joy in full creative effort, and a corresponding alienation from those branches of the evolutionary stem which, preferring case to risk and effort, have remained stationary, or even descended in the organic scale. It may be that other values are difficult to include in his scheme, especially if he too rigorously banishes teleology. But why should he banish teleology? In his philosophy super-consciousness is so indeterminate that it is not permitted to hamper itself with any purpose more definite than that of self-augmentation. It is ignorant not only of its course, but of its goal; and for the sufficient reason that in M. Bergson's view, these things are not only unknown, but unknowable. But is there not a certain incongruity between the substance of such a philosophy and the sentiments associated with it by its author? Creation, freedom, will - these doubtless are great things; but we cannot lastingly admire them unless we know their drift. We cannot, I submit, rest satisfied with what differs so little from the haphazard; joy is no fitting consequent of efforts which are so nearly aimless. If values are to be taken into account, it is surely better to invoke God with a purpose, than supra-consciousness with none.

Yet these deficiencies, if deficiencies they be, do little to diminish the debt of gratitude we owe to M. Bergson. Apart altogether from his admirable criticisms, his psychological insight, his charms of style, there is permanent value in his theories. And those who, like myself, find little satisfaction in the all-inclusive unification of the idealist systems; who cannot, either on rational or any other grounds, accept naturalism as a creed, will always turn with interest and admiration to this brilliant experiment in philosophic construction, so far removed from both.
Note: 
The article above was taken from "Arthur James Balfour As Philosopher and Thinker: A Collection of the More Important and Interesting Passages in his Non-Political Writings, Speeches, and Addresses, 1897-1912" (Longmans, Green and Co., 1912) by Wilfred M. Short.

Sir William Barrett - Eusapia Palladino


Eusapia Palladino
 -Sir William Barrett -
          AFTER THE favourable reports by Professor Charles Richet and Sir Oliver Lodge upon their experiments with Eusapia, referred to on page 65, as there stated further seances were held with her at Cambridge in 1895.(1) I was not present, and, indeed, have never had the opportunity nor the desire to experiment with Eusapia, but those present at Cambridge came to the conclusion, on what appeared to them to be an adequate trial, that there was clear evidence of trickery on the part of Eusapia,(2) although Sir Oliver Lodge adhered to his opinion that the phenomena he witnessed in the Ile Roubaud were genuine.(3)
This opinion was corroborated by that of the eminent physiologist, Professor Charles Richet. After the seances at Cambridge he for a time suspended his judgement, but subsequently, both in conversation with myself and on other occasions, has stated that he was absolutely convinced of the supernormal character of some of the manifestations which occur with Eusapia. This also was the opinion of the well-known astronomical writer Camille Flammarion, who in his work, "Ies Porces Naturelles Inconnues"," deals at length with the phenomena occurring with Eusapia, and is convinced of their supernormal character.
(1). See "Journal of the. S.P.R.," Vol. V1, P. 306
(2). ibid., Vol. V11, p. 148.
(3). ibid., p. 135.
But the most remarkable testimony in favour of Eusapia came from some of the leading scientific men of Italy, men specially trained in the investigation of psychological and physiological phenomena. Perhaps the most notable witness was the late Professor Lombroso, who conducted the investigation of Eusapia's powers in his laboratory in the University of Turin, every precaution being taken against fraud. The result was that Lombroso publicly bore witness to the genuineness of these extraordinary physical manifestations. The opinion of so experienced and able a criminologist as Lombroso - whose high scientific status is recognised throughout Europe - necessarily carried great weight. In an article published in 1908 in the "Annals of Psychical Science," Lombroso refers to various phases of these phenomena, including phantasms and apparitions of deceased persons. He points out that sometimes several phenomena occurred simultaneously, and hence were beyond the power of one person to perform, and also that there is evidence of the intrusion of another will, which could not be attributed to the medium or to any person present, but which was in opposition to 'all, and even to the control, "John." He lays stress upon the importance of these facts in relation to the hypothesis that the occurrences are explicable by the "psychic forces" of the medium and circle alone: an hypothesis which at an earlier stage of the inquiry he himself adopted, but which he now regards as inadequate.
Independent testimony came from Dr. Enrico Morselli, Professor of Neurology and Psychiatry (mental therapeutics), in the University of Genoa, who presided over a set of séances with Eusapia in that city.(1)
The control of the medium was very strict. Her hands and feet were held by Dr. Morselli and Sig. Barzini, editor of the "Corriere della Sera," who states that he was present "with the object of unmasking fraud and trickery," but was in the end convinced of the reality of some of the phenomena. The person of the medium was thoroughly searched before the seance, and the room was also searched; the light was never entirely extinguished.
Under these conditions Dr. Morselli testifies to the occurrence of the following phenomena: movements of the table; raps on the table and sounds on musical instruments without contact; complete levitations of the table; movements of objects at a distance from the medium seen in the light, and, also, the operation of self-registering instruments by the unseen agency; "apports", i.e., objects brought into the room from outside; the sound of human voices not proceeding from any visible person; impressions on plastic substances of hands, feet and faces; the appearance of dark prolongations of the medium's body; of well delineated forms of: faces, heads and busts. Although entirely sceptical at the outset of his experiments he declares himself convinced that most of the phenomena alleged to occur with Eusapia are "real, authentic, and genuine."
(1) A very full report of these is given in the Annals of Psychical Science for February, March, May, and June, 1907.
Dr. Morseilli was disposed to interpret these phenomena by what he terms the hypothesis of special psychic or biodynamic forces; that is to say, he attributes them to some peculiar power emanating from the person of the medium. This is practically the psychic force theory of many earlier English investigators.
Shortly after the séances held under the direction of Dr. Morselli in the University of Genoa, another series of experiments, in Turin, was conducted by Doctors Herlitzka, C. Foa, and Aggazzotti;(1) Dr. Pio Foa, Professor of Pathological Anatomy, being present at the most remarkable of this set of experiments. These séances yielded similar positive results to those held by Professors Lombroso and Morselli.
Another competent witness is Dr. Giuseppe Venzano, stated by Dr. Morselli to be an "excellent observer." He contributed an important article to the " Annals of Psychical Science " (August and September, 1907), containing a detailed record and critical analysis of his experiences with Eusapia, under conditions of strict control, and sometimes in the full light given by an electric lamp of sixteen-candle power. Dr. Venzano, in the course of his experiments with Eusapia, the light in the room being sufficient to enable both the medium and his fellow-sitters to be clearly seen, perceived a woman's form beside him, felt her touch and heard her speak: the form spoke with fullness of detail of certain family affairs not known to anyone present except himself. The whole incident is a most amazing one, and Dr. Venzano states that, in his opinion, any explanation of this experience based on the possibility of fraud or of hallucination is impossible.
(1) Assistants of Professor Mosso, an eminent physiologist.
Professor Philippe Bottazzi, Director of the Physiological Institute at the University of Naples, having read the report of Dr. Morselli's experiments at Genoa, made an attempt to verify the phenomena by means of an elaborate and carefully, arranged set of self-registering instruments, in the hope of obtaining an automatic graphic record of the psychic force exercised by the medium. Such a record would negative the hypotheses of hallucination or mis-description on the part of the observer. These important experiments, carried with the collaboration of several able professors of the same University, were remarkably successful, and Professor Bottazzi's article concludes by stating these experiments have "eliminated the slightest trace of suspicion or uncertainty relative to the genuineness of the phenomena. We obtained the same kind of assurance as that which we have concerning physical, chemical or physiological phenomena. From henceforth sceptics can only deny the facts by accusing us of fraud and charlatanism."(1)
(1). See "Annals of Psychical Science", September, 1907 P. 149
In 1909 three members of the S.P.R., the Hon Everard Feilding, Mr. W. W. Baggally and Mr. Hereward Carrington were commissioned by the Society to carry out another serious investigation with this medium. The selection was specially made with a view to the qualifications of the investigators. Mr. Carrington was a clever amateur conjuror, and for ten years had carried on investigations on these physical phenomena in the United States. His book on this subject shows his familiarity with the methods adopted by fraudulent mediums and his cautious attitude towards all such experiences. Mr. Baggally was also an amateur conjuror with much experience, and had come to negative conclusion as to the possibility of any genuine physical phenomena. Mr. Feilding's attitude was the same, and, moreover, he had had extensive experience in investigating physical phenomena.
October, 1907, p. 260; December, 1907, P. 377; where a full account of these experiments will be found, with illustrations showing the tracings made by the self-registering instruments.
The result of this investigation was that all three of these well-qualified men were convinced of the absolute genuineness of the remarkable supernormal phenomena they witnessed at their hotel in Naples. Since then they have had another series of séances which yielded quite different results and in which they obtained nothing convincingly supernormal and much that was obviously normal and probably spurious. The same thing was also found in sittings with Eusapia in America.
How can we reconcile these conflicting results? I am not concerned to defend Eusapia, on the contrary I am more, disposed to loathe her, but we must be fair, and give even the devil his due. Like other psychics, especially those who exhibit similar amazing supernormal phenomena, she is most sensitive to "suggestion," even when unexpressed; and, in the trance, when her consciousness and self-control are largely inhibited, she is the easy prey of external influences. In the absence of the steadying, though subconscious, influence of a high moral nature, she unblushingly cheats whenever the conditions are unfavourable for the production of supernormal phenomena. We have no right to assume that she is wholly conscious of so doing, for Professor Hyslop has shown that mediumship is often, accompanied with abnormal bodily as well as mental conditions. We know little or nothing of, what constitutes the peculiar faculty or environment for the necessary production of these physical phenomena.
If they are due, as some have thought, to an externalization of the nerve force of the psychic, it is not improbable that the degree of this externalization will vary with the favourable or unfavourable mental state of those present. We may even conceive that when this psychic force is restricted or not externalised, it may create movements of the limbs of the psychic which will cause her to perform by normal actions (in perhaps a semi-conscious state) what under good psychical conditions would be done supernormally. This would produce the impression of intentional fraud. Every one who had much experience in these perplexing investigations knows that what seems purposeless and stupid fraud often intrudes itself, after the most conclusive evidence of genuine phenomena has been obtained. It is this which renders the whole enquiry wholly unfitted for the hasty and unskilled investigator.