Methodology and definitions

Research was conducted in 2004–5 and continued during return visits from 2008–10. Ethnographic data was obtained through interviews with the sangha of Wat Kompong Tralach and the people of Kompong Tralach village. Participant observation was conducted of Buddhist ceremonies in the wat such as Kathen (performed at the end of the three-month retreat for monks), T'ngai Seul (‘Precept day’, every eighth and fifteenth day of the waxing and waning moons), as well as Pchum Ben (Festival for the dead). Life-cycle ceremonies within the commune were also observed as were neak ta rituals performed at Wat Kompong Tralach and the surrounding area.

One broad finding was that knowledge about neak ta in Kompong Tralach varied according to age, sex, education, occupation (agricultural, trade, or urban employment), location (similar to occupation), family size, experience under the Khmer Rouge, devotion to Buddhism, and experience with or in the monastery. In most cases, the less devotion showed towards Buddhism, the more likely individuals were to acknowledge the importance of neak ta.

There was also a proximal relationship regarding neak ta and Buddhist expression surrounding rural temples as opposed to those in urban centres. In general, the research showed that the further away from cities and towns, the more neak ta and other spirit cults were established at wats and acknowledged to have a prominent role in daily life. Although this may seem a truism, it echoes the views of many Khmers as well as Erik Davis's depiction of neak ta as marking places of habitation within agricultural settings.Footnote ²⁶

Finally, there is the issue of whether ‘importance’ can be defined quantitatively. In other words, could one count the number of neak ta rituals in relation to Buddhist rituals performed, the number of lay and Buddhist specialists today versus the prewar era, or the money expended on them and thereby determine ‘importance’? We know from Didier Bertrand'sFootnote ²⁷ research that traditional specialists have grown in influence, and we also know that politicians have increasingly associated themselves with certain temples and monks known for their magical powers.Footnote ²⁸ However, the notion of political elites relying on magic and other means of divination is nothing new, General Lon Nol having been a notoriously steadfast proponent of spirit cults.

We also know, though, that while monasteries in urban areas were in decline as early as 1959, by the 1960s the number of ordinations rose again as the government began recognising educational certificates issued by monastic institutions.Footnote ²⁹ Likewise, following liberation in 1979 Cambodians immediately began rebuilding temples, usually out of wood for lack of funds and supplies, but later out of more permanent materials with the help of the Khmer diaspora.Footnote ³⁰

Simply assuming that neak ta and other spirits grew in importance because Buddhism was all but destroyed, therefore, is insufficient given the fact that when presented with the opportunity Khmers have chosen to engage in Buddhist practice. Further, relying solely on responses to questions about whether spirit cults are more important than Buddhism is unsatisfactory, given that opinions expressed may not accurately reflect practices and actions. Admittedly, the use of qualitative measurements is necessary for this study. The difficulty in measuring ‘importance’ is that quite often word and deed vary according to context. While there are Khmers who patronise neak ta shrines regularly, indeed more frequently than their visits to the local wat, they may hold greater reverence for the collective significance of Buddhist rituals, particularly during ceremonies such as Pchum Ben. Likewise, while I knew several people who completely renounced Buddhism, they still admitted to making small offerings to neak ta from time to time when ill or to influence the outcome of a significant future event (such as a long trip).

Yet, this latter example may be discounted as unimportant or done ‘just in case’, similar to hanging a horseshoe over one's door: an individual may not actually believe it will bring luck, but it may be such a common cultural practice that it is done out of what Pierre Bourdieu refers to as habitus: something done without reflection or consciousness.Footnote ³¹ However, I disagree with Bourdieu's criticism of researchers who focus on agents as conscious and rational actors. Those who acknowledged neak ta ‘just in case’ made a conscious decision to do so; they were motivated more out of uncertainty than by a lack of consciousness. Indeed, the irregularity of their seeking the help of spirits suggests that greater reflection would be needed as such events fell outside of what was normally anticipated.

‘Importance’ for this study, therefore, is defined as the value attached to a given ceremony or belief with respect to another for the purpose of bringing about a desired outcome. The frequency of rituals, although an imprecise measurement given that value and time are not necessarily linked, will also be considered for comparative purposes (i.e. the relative amount of time spent or times engaged in neak ta versus Buddhist rituals).

Kompong Tralach village and Wat Kompong Tralach

About 20 kilometres south of Kampot town is the village of Kompong Tralach in Prey Thom commune, Kep Province. The commune contains the villages of Kompong Tralach, Damnak Chang'aeur, and Thmei with close to 1,500 families and 444 hectares of cultivated rice land producing over 650 metric tonnes of rice annually. Wells and water taps provide more than half of the water for the commune with the rest obtained from rainwater or from a dam to its immediate north. Kompong Tralach village with more than 350 families is all but indistinguishable from other villages in the country. Its inhabitants are mostly rice farmers; however, some men are also engaged in outside work such as in salt fields to the northwest while some women sell food or baked goods at the local market.

Wat Kompong Tralach stands towards the north of the commune in Kompong Tralach village and is a traditional rural wat, small both in terms of its size and the number of monks serving the needs of the surrounding community. The monks belonged to the Mahanikay order, the larger of the two Buddhist orders in the country (the other being the Thommayut). The temple was said to have been built in 1897 by a man named Chung who became the temple's first abbot. During the Democratic Kampuchea era it was destroyed, and the ruins used as a stable for livestock and as an execution site.

The wat was rebuilt between 1998 to 2000 with funds from Prime Minister Hun Sen (whose name appears on the vihear's façade) along with donations by expatriate Khmers whose names are inscribed on the walls of the sala. There were also several stupas towards the rear of the temple and graves of less solvent villagers to the northeast of the vihear.

The temple's monks and lay specialists as well as villagers in the vicinity were threatened by remnants of the shattered Khmer Rouge as late as 1999. The elderly abbot, himself a local who had been a monk prior to 1975, took it upon himself to build a shrine (taub) for the victims of the Khmer Rouge whose remains were scattered throughout the surrounding countryside. Little more than a shed, the shrine is still the site of ceremonies during Buddhist festivals and other auspicious occasions.

Ill. 1 The shrine (taub) for victims of the Khmer Rouge at Wat Kompong Tralach

The shrine for the neak ta of Wat Kompong Tralach is in the northeast corner as in most wats and its spirit is said to look after those within the area.Footnote ³² There was also another shrine for the spirit built at the base of a large tree near the vihear donated by a Cambodian expatriate living in the United States. The importance of the neak ta to the wat and those within the commune (and without) cannot be overstated; the neak ta acts as an ally and defender as well as a potential bearer of misfortune.

This duality is reflected in my conversations with the monks. ‘Neak ta is the original religion of Cambodia,’ remarked Loak Bati, a resident monk in his early twenties, as he spoke of the importance of the tutelary spirit for local villagers, ‘before Buddhism there was neak ta.’ Loak Poun who was of a similar age and from Prey Thom commune observed: ‘Buddhism in the city, neak ta in the countryside.’ And although some monks made it a point to note that spirit cults were separate from the dhamma, they acknowledged that spirits such as neak ta can nonetheless act as a type of protector of the sacred space of the wat to ensure people adhere to good Buddhist practice and behave in a respectful manner.Footnote ³³

In the 1930s, K. Chea, Cambodia's minister of religion, lamented over the fact that magic was common within numerous branches of the Mahanikay sect as well as the fact that many monks were known for their ability to conjure spells, control spirits, and contain demons (as well as being expert gamblers).Footnote ³⁴ However, as Penny Edwards notes, the success of Theravada Buddhism from the twelfth century onwards was ‘undoubtedly tied to a selective adaptation and integration, dictated by both monks and their lay constituencies, of existing animist and Brahmanist practices.’Footnote ³⁵ Indeed, Rüdiger Gaudes points out that the role of spirit cults within Cambodia was described by Chinese emissary Zhou Daguan during his visit to Angkor from 1296–97: ‘The decisive folkloristic motif in the account of Zhou Daguan … is the notion of the necessity of understandings between human beings and the ghosts that are regarded as the true lords of the land. This understanding is achieved by a king's linkage with a supernatural person or power’.Footnote ³⁶

Notwithstanding K. Chea's lamentations, the spirits and deities comprising Khmer cosmology were part of everyday life, invested in the monarchy, and interwoven into the cultural landscape. Brahmanic beliefs, Hindu deities, local spirits, and the teachings of the Buddha formed a holistic worldview varying according to village tradition and monastic focus.

During the Khmer Rouge era and the destruction of the monasteries, traditional ritual practices continued, albeit clandestinely. The repression of Buddhism and the ‘extirpation of folk culture’ had already begun in some areas by 1973.Footnote ³⁷ However, extirpating beliefs that survive through individual expression would prove to be next to impossible and many villagers in Kompong Tralach believed that neak ta were still active during the Khmer Rouge regime.

The importance of neak ta in local stories and legends

‘The most powerful neak ta in the area is Chum Teav Mao’, the Ministry of Information's local representative in Kampot town said as he leaned back in his chair and listed the names of the powerful neak ta in the province. He explained that Chum Teav Mao was also a title given by the king to the wives of high-ranking government officials, especially those of ministerial rank.

From 1866–1944 Chum Teav Mao (also known as Yeh Mao) was very powerful and widely respected. Before 1866 the neak ta had only a small shrine with a tiled roof. However, a Chinese man seeing the small structure decided to make a 3-square-metre shrine with a tin roof for the spirit. Upon completing the new shrine he asked the neak ta for a winning lottery number, which Chum Teav Mao gave him in a dream. However, the neak ta was a capricious spirit that could also cause harm and hurt people who crossed the road near the shrine without first asking permission. In 1900 a Westerner (presumably French) heard of the neak ta's power and travelled to the shrine which he shot at with a rifle, taking away the spirit's power. Although in a weakened state, when the Japanese invaded in 1940 and relocated people from Kampot to an area near Chum Teav Mao's shrine, the spirit's anger revived, resulting in the death of many, especially men, creating a colony of widows. After 1944 Chum Teav Mao's influence subsided once again, although it remained a powerful spirit.

The symbolism in this story is hard to miss. The waning of the neak ta's power coinciding with invasions and the occupation of Cambodia by foreign powers is at one time a corollary of the country's suffering as well as an explanation for it. What is curious, though, is that the protagonists — the Chinese man who built the shrine, the Westerner who shot at the shrine, and the Japanese soldiers who forcibly relocated people — are not the ones who suffer Chum Teav Mao's wrath. Rather, it is innocent Khmers who are punished.

These lessons can be heard in many Khmer parables. Sometimes people are victims of their own greed, and at other times they fail to appreciate powerful forces set against them.Footnote ³⁸ Even so, the fatalism often expressed regarding the country's decline in the region is set alongside epic tales of Khmer warriors (such as that of Khleang Moeung, below) and an appreciation for outwitting one's opponent. One such story learned in primary school was recalled by Chatorn, 21, who proudly called himself a Kmai sot (a ‘real’ Khmer, i.e. not of mixed ancestry):

Such stories provide a frame of reference for interpreting modernity while giving credence, perhaps even validation, for the use of power. Insolence and avarice are met with invasion and occupation, while the neak ta remain a potent force in Khmer life (Gaudes provides variations of this legend in both royal and local accounts).Footnote ³⁹

Such stories and legends do not stand alone, though, but are actualised through performance and sites of worship. And while some monks described neak ta and Buddhism as distinct from one another, the role of such forces as parami binds the two together, making their division more a consequence of academic expedience than actual practice. Parami refers to the ten perfections or virtues of the Buddha that allowed him to reach nibbana. Its popular expression has come to mean a benevolent form of power as well as benevolent spirits who take on the persona of mythico-historical individuals who can occupy snangs (mediums) either by force or through invitation.Footnote ⁴⁰ Malevolent spirits such as bray who occupy mediums can also be transformed into parami when trained and pacified over time.Footnote ⁴¹

The ability of mediums such as kru parami to focus parami for specific ends is relevant in a discussion of magic or divination given their specialty in the field and devotion to Buddhism. Although some are associated with religious figures and there are monks who also act as mediums (which violates the vinaya, their code of conduct), kru parami are normally ordinary people who uphold Buddhist virtues and follow the precepts and dhamma. Indeed, Bertrand describes the interactions between such mediums and the sangha as ‘constant’.Footnote ⁴² Even the local ministry official above noted their importance as he outlined steps for finding lost property. First, one was to travel with a monk to visit a kru parami and elicit the help of Chum Teav Mao. Traditional music — kmai boran — would then be played to call on the neak ta which would enter the kru's body and divulge the location of the lost property. Bertrand also cites some mediums being patronised by monks for physical, spiritual, or even financial support.Footnote ⁴³

Several monks at Wat Kompong Tralach described the use of special powers which legendary monks had in the past; some acknowledged that there were monks today who could invoke such powers to achieve certain ends. None were said to live in the area, but the monks related how they themselves would consult spirits on auspicious occasions such as funerals and weddings or to diagnose illnesses (however, they said that these were distinct from neak ta ceremonies).

While appearing to be outside of their normal duties, the capacity to wield such forms of power has come under the scrutiny of the Cambodian People's Party (CPP), ministries, and politicians who have associated themselves with specific wats and individuals. Elizabeth Guthrie has even claimed that Hun Sen's actions in this regard are meant to evoke images of kingship and define him as the legitimate successor to the kings of the ancient capital of Oudong, where he has reconstructed the complex of Wat Weang Chas.Footnote ⁴⁴ The association of certain temples with parami through the iconography of particular statues or buildings has also increased since the end of the war.Footnote ⁴⁵ These constructions have been known to attract hundreds of people in Phnom Penh and throughout the countryside.

The magical efficacy of a spirit further varies according to historical precedent, status, and geographical location. Although Bertrand describes neak ta as having no central authority or strict hierarchy,Footnote ⁴⁶ rural villagers do recognise local hierarchies related to specific neak ta in their region and a general order throughout the country. For example, in general, a neak ta occupying the royal palace will be seen as more powerful than one occupying a home in a small village. Likewise, the statues of the nationally known neak ta Kra Ham Kor, Preah Chao, and Cambong Daek located in front of the royal palace are said to protect Dong Kaoeuk, the national neak ta of the flag.Footnote ⁴⁷

However, while rural villagers may accept an hierarchy of neak ta and their importance relative to their position within the country, interviews with urbanites demonstrated that their knowledge of spirit cults was poorer than that of their rural counterparts. And this also extended to the perceived power of neak ta as a force in everyday affairs. As a woman from Phnom Penh put it, ‘You hear a lot of this in the countryside.’

The importance of spirit cults intertwined with legends also has broader implications. One powerful neak ta is Khleang Moeung. He is considered a bodhisattva (‘Buddha to be’) as well as a neak ta. During a historic engagement with the Thais in modern Pursat Province, Khleang Moeung sacrificed his own life by jumping into a well dug by his soldiers in an attempt to defeat the invading force; he was followed by his wife and two of their children. Upon their death, the Thai army was overcome with dysentery and forced to retreat. Afterwards, a small temple was built on the site where Khleang Moeung and his family were said to have sacrificed their lives. Today he is said to reside underneath a nearby fruit tree believed to have special powers.

Khleang Moeung's influence is both national and transnational. Ashley Thompson relates her experience of a celebration organised by a Khmer American family in the ancient capital of Oudong in which a medium called upon the spirit of Khleang Moeung to enter his body, thus, summoning the spirit of the dead man in support of the living.Footnote ⁴⁸ Indeed, spirit possessions involving Khleang Moeung are common throughout Cambodia where incarnating the neak ta allows mediums to re-enact the spirit's heroic deeds. In Long Beach, California, home to the largest Khmer population in the United States with over fifty-five thousand individuals, a shrine to Khleang Moeung has been built which carries similar significance for the diasporic community.Footnote ⁴⁹

It is reasonable to ask whether such a shrine for Khleang Moeung would have been built abroad in the pre-DK period or whether such a construction is the result of the experiences Khmers and Cambodian Buddhism went through. Small shrines to neak ta more than likely would have had a place amongst Khmer communities abroad regardless of the events of 1975–79, given their role in protecting homes and ensuring general well-being. Yet, such shrines would have been a far cry from being large structures for mythico-historical figures.

However, it is also true that without the Khmer Rouge there would be no Khmer diaspora, or at least it would not have come about in the manner in which it did. If anything, legends such as those of Chum Teav Mao and Khleang Moeung demonstrate a need for a cultural touchstone with the past; something that has proven to be resilient, providing Cambodian Buddhists with a degree of continuity which the monasteries have not always been able to maintain. Legends and stories of spirits such as neak ta also provide a context through which Khmers make sense of events which have been largely outside of their control. As Cambodia's ‘original religion’, spirit cults provide one of the foundations for Khmer identity, distinct from Buddhist teachings while at the same time integral to the practice of Buddhism throughout the country.

The importance of spirit cults within Kompong Tralach village

Not all villagers take the supernatural seriously, however. In fact, some younger Khmers described themselves as atheists or not having any religion. Two young men who disavowed belief in Buddhism acknowledged that they would call upon their neak ta for help if they were in trouble. The first was Tola, 24, a Chinese-Khmer who actually used the term atheist to describe himself and was confident that young people his age held similar views. ‘The temple is for old people,’ he said on one occasion as he fixed to his motorbike a banana flower which he was going to drop off at the temple as an offering on behalf of his mother. He insisted that this was for her, though, and that if his mother had not asked him he would not bother visiting the wat.

Despite his professed atheism, Tola still deferred to the monastery for certain activities, specifically regarding funerary rites, for instance, cremation vs burial: ‘The monk tells you what to do. Pali is very strong, very strange, very incredible, but the monks know.’ The pamsukūla subritual within a Buddhist funeral which Tola referred to — the management of death — lies at the heart of what Davis calls the ‘the core of monastic authority’,Footnote ⁵⁰ whereby monks exert their influence over spirits. Indeed, for Tola following traditional burial practices was critical, ‘You put the head west. If you put the head this direction, that direction, that direction — the ghost comes back and kills you. It's the monks who know.’

As Davis demonstrates, however, one of the main functions of Buddhist funerals is the separation of powers inherent in the conception of self — the vinnana (Buddhist), which is reborn after death and linked to karmic morality and moral choices, and pralin (Brahmanist), fundamental spirits in all growing things associated with vitality.Footnote ⁵¹ The other young man, Wet, 22, gave a more pragmatic answer regarding neak ta and the restoration of pralin, ‘If I'm sick I pray, “Oh please neak ta, help.” But that's it. Neak ta is strong here.’ When I asked whether he ever went to the temple, he replied, ‘No. Now we have Chris-sasana [Christianity].’ ‘But,’ he added, ‘Buddhism isn't a real Khmer religion — it came from India.’

Wet's father and mother converted to Christianity in the late 1990s after meeting Christian missionaries. Yet, although they described themselves as Christian, Wet's mother would still prostrate before Loak Poun (the monk noted above who was a childhood friend of Wet's) in the traditional manner when he and I visited. Despite their conversion, both belief in neak ta and Buddhism still played a part in their lives. Wet also attributed his father's escape from a Khmer Rouge collective in 1978 to a neak ta's help. Moreover, even after their adoption of Christianity, Wet's father was dismayed when Wet and his younger brother chose not to become monks.

Others regarded those who prayed to neak ta instead of visiting the local wat with a certain lightheartedness. Vithu, a local farmer in his mid-forties with a penchant for humour smiled when asked about people's reliance on neak ta, ‘I think they're too lazy to go to the wat!’ Although made in jest, Vithu's comment is perceptive. Even though Wat Kompong Tralach usually could count on a good turnout for annual festivals, a neak ta ceremony can be conducted in one's home; being able to forgo a trip to the wat likely plays a part in the viability of the spirit cult and probably always has.

Although neak ta are still considered to be strong in the area, as with Bertrand's research there were no mediums (rūp) in the village as well as a general confusion over the names of the various neak ta.Footnote ⁵² Tola, Wet, and Wet's younger brother Watt went back and forth over the issue before finally admitting that they did not know. The assistant village chief who was in his mid-forties resolved their dilemma by providing the names and hierarchy for the presiding neak ta in the commune, including the wat: Neak Ta Dta Māk (in Wat Kompong Tralach); Neak Ta Kah Kaio (in Prey Thom Commune); and Neak Ta M'jeh Srok (the generic name for neak ta of a local area such as a plot of land, or a house).

While the younger men could not remember the names of the local spirits and instead had to resort to asking an older member of the community, they were all sure of one thing: neak ta were powerful in the village and wider commune and also had a distinct hierarchy, the local wat's tutelary spirit being the most powerful. When asked where they could be found, the assistant village chief paused, looking about for effect — ‘Everywhere!’ he exclaimed. Indeed, although, as pointed out earlier, knowledge of neak ta differed depending on age, sex, and occupation, everyone was quite sure that they were copious throughout the region.

Pattana Kitiarsa positioned the various beliefs within Thai Buddhism according to the legitimation of state power, class, and gender: the Buddha is always at the top, followed by male Indian and Chinese deities and royal spirits, female deities, with tutelary spirits occupying the lower level.Footnote ⁵³ Alexandra de Mersan, likewise, cites a configuration among Burmese spirits associated with the former kingdom of Arakan similar to its administrative divisions which may have been a system employed by leaders to assert control over local populations.Footnote ⁵⁴ From my fieldwork I would note that as a rough rule similar hierarchies can be found in Cambodia; the Buddha is stationed at the top, followed by various Brahmanic deities, down to local configurations of neak ta with heroes and historical figures holding positions above village spirits (Marston cites a similar hierarchy in reference to the neak ta Khleang Moeung having authority over local neak ta in Kompong Cham ProvinceFootnote ⁵⁵). However, the placement of neak ta in these hierarchies is by no means static and can be repositioned according to the individual, desired outcome, as well as geographical space.

It was agreed that Chum Teav Mao, for example, was beneath the Buddha, but the spirit's connection with the land and its presence in specific geographic locales (in Kep, the spirit occupied a tree in front of King Sihanouk's former residence overlooking the sea) meant that it commanded greater acknowledgement in the area surrounding its shrine than a spirit living farther away in places such as at Wat Kompong Tralach, which had its own hierarchy. Indeed, it would be highly unlikely for someone to conduct a ritual near Chum Teav Mao's shrine without acknowledging the spirit (a few informants were reluctant to even go with me to have a look at the spirit's tree of residence). But then again, this was something locals would probably never consider in the first place. The spirit's primacy in the area was not challenged by any other, and any change in status that occurred did so as one moved away from one spirit's sphere of influence to that of another. The only thing that remained unchanged was the Buddha's position at the top of the hierarchy.

Ian Harris cites survivors as stating that they maintained spirit shrines during the Democratic Kampuchea years, yet he goes on to describe how people's constant movement after 1975 severed links between villagers and their ancestors, resulting in a breakdown in the belief in spirits, including neak ta.Footnote ⁵⁶ However, belief in spirits such as neak ta may not have broken down so much as they were set aside like so many other aspects of Cambodian life in the struggle for survival. Older villagers I interviewed noted that during the war neak ta remained despite the displacement of individuals, or like Chum Teav Mao, they simply waited for another day. These villagers also tended to know the names for distinct neak ta; men often could point to specific locations (such as under large trees or occupying specific features of the landscape) more so than women (particularly younger ones). This latter observation is likely attributable to the fact that females in the village spent more time at home while males could travel freely. It also reflects Davis's analysis of masculine and feminine spirits; the former often marking agricultural land and the latter private homes.Footnote ⁵⁷

Yet, neak ta are not simply seen as passive spirits but are believed to be active agents within villagers' lives. A dam immediately north of Wat Kompong Tralach originally built by forced labour under the Khmer Rouge and later rebuilt with World Bank funds collapsed several years ago, destroying homes, crops, livestock, and in general creating chaos throughout Kompong Tralach. Both villagers and monks attributed the breach to damage caused to the shrine of the dam's neak ta. A ceremony for the spirit attended by all the monks at Wat Kompong Tralach was conducted afterwards (and paid for by the local government water authority) to appease the spirit and ensure that there would be no more catastrophes.

The neak ta shrine stood in the middle of the dam and measured 2 square metres. It was the largest shrine I had ever encountered and within it were various offerings, mostly loose cigarettes, but also a few small treats wrapped in banana leaves. On top of the structure were several small statues of the Buddha arranged around what looked at first like a larger one on its own small metal pedestal. ‘It's not Buddha, but similar,’ Loak Gern, 23, said as we stood looking over the shrine. He added that, lacking other objects to symbolise neak ta, other small figures were sometimes used by villagers.

As we stood there an elderly woman with two small children made her way towards us before prostrating in front of the shrine. She chatted with us for a bit, telling us about her life and the day the Khmer Rouge came to her village, forcing her and the rest of the inhabitants to move far away. She recalled that the shrine was built on the site of a famous wat that the Khmer Rouge had destroyed when they began construction on the dam. Loak Gern confirmed the story, adding that the local water authority was now in charge of the project and had itself constructed the shrine.

The size of the shrine was likely due to the fact that it held such a commanding role over the dam and, therefore, the well-being of those who lived in the area. Its location on the site of a former wat and the fact that many were said to have perished while constructing the dam during the Democratic Kampuchea years were also likely to be important factors. Although the current monks did not know much about the former wat, the old woman's tale and the central placement of a large ‘Buddha’ figure on the metal stand at the top of the shrine echoes images of bray. While normally known as the evil spirit of a woman who dies in childbirth, when a bray is bound to a building's column it is transformed from a malevolent presence into a guardian spirit.Footnote ⁵⁸

In earlier conversations Loak Poun had described the separation of neak ta from Buddhism. However, following our encounter with the elderly woman he gave a more qualified answer: ‘Buddhism and neak ta — the same’, he said, placing his two index fingers together. ‘For example, neak ta in my wat helps people there. Neak ta in the dam lets people have water but it can also destroy houses.’ Similar to Alain Forest's and Bertrand's findings,Footnote ⁵⁹ here what has been termed the Buddhicisation of neak ta is likely at work. Bertrand describes this process as occurring due to a lack of people worthy of becoming mediums for the spirit, as to become a neak ta is to be reborn in a type of Buddhist mode.Footnote ⁶⁰ Although neak ta were said to be strong in Kompong Tralach village and Prey Thom commune, the absence of mediums has meant that the spirit's perceived potency has been incorporated within popular Buddhist expression in and outside of the monastery.

The breach in the dam and the power of the neak ta to cause such a disaster had a profound impact on local residents. This was reinforced by the death of a man from Kompong Cham in a tractor accident while repairing the dam. The scale of the event called for an equally large ritual response. Although unconfirmed, the presence of the figures, while dismissed as dissimilar from the actual Buddha, may represent an attempt by locals to pacify the resident neak ta through establishing a subordinate or guardian relationship with the Buddha similar to the relationship established with bray noted above (researchers have demonstrated similar relationships in Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, and Myanmar).Footnote ⁶¹

If this is indeed part of a broader Buddhicisation process, though, it raises questions regarding the capacity (accepted or expected) of neak ta to cause harm. That is, if the lack of worthy human interlocutors can be attributed to the spirits' rebirth in a Buddhist mode, does that mode preclude, facilitate, or stand neutral to harmful acts attributed to neak ta? That question cannot be answered in this study. However, from interviews and observations it would appear that it is not a singular ‘mode’ but ‘modes’ in which neak ta operates, some of which are more or less inclined towards the dhamma depending on the context. It should also be noted that no other neak ta shrine in the village nor the one at Wat Kompong Tralach had a similar arrangement of Buddha figures within or near them.

The importance of spirit cults within Wat Kompong Tralach

Some members of the monastery, as Loak Gern mentioned, were certain of the importance of Buddhism within Khmer society. When asked directly if the belief in neak ta was more important than Buddhism, his answer was sure: ‘Buddhism is more important but they do different things.’ He went on to explain that the domestic, everyday concerns that rural inhabitants contend with are generally the purview of neak ta: protecting one's home, alleviating illness, ensuring adequate rain — whereas that which sees to the betterment of one's future life or creates merit for an individual's ancestors are issues left for the Buddha.

Monks at Wat Kompong Tralach would often speak of their two roles — being party to an event and participation in it — as existing side by side. Loak Poun's insightful remark, ‘Buddhism in the city, neak ta in the countryside’, is indicative of these roles and the importance that villagers attach to spirit cults. Given that the official religion, Buddhism, was dismantled during the Democratic Kampuchea era, the traditional spirits of the countryside, which could withstand the pogroms, belayed people to forms of worship that they could count on.

The canonical segregation of rural religious practice does not prohibit the inclusion of those practices within the sacred space of the wat, however. Likewise, certain ceremonies outside of the temple performed in times of need, such as life-cycle ceremonies or calling on the assistance of local neak ta during droughts, involve monks chanting the dhamma. Unlike the pamsukūla ritual mentioned above, influence over spirits is not necessarily in the hands of monks who stated that their chants were done out of respect and to contribute to the overall harmony of an event. They did admit, however, that with great study some monks could control spirits, neak ta, as well as become kru parami.

Ill 2. A Bachai Buon ceremony honouring a local family's elders in Prey Thom commune. The achar (seated right) with a microphone is calling the local neak ta as monks (far right) from Wat Kompong Tralach look on

In many ways the monks' presence at such ceremonies represents a type of insurance or an extra layer of ritual performance done more to assuage villagers' concerns that they have done enough to ensure a successful outcome. Yet, the monks' attendance is also important to ensure that their particular wat will continue to receive support from the community. Foregoing a ceremony would likely hurt the relationship which both parties rely on to maintain social harmony within the village and wider commune. Although monks at Wat Kompong Tralach would describe their duties as distinct from those involving neak ta, they accepted the fact that the inclusion of neak ta was an integral part of worship at the temple and their attendance and performance at services outside of the wat was normal and even expected.

Loak Bati described the relationship between Buddhism and neak ta in this way: ‘There is Buddhism and neak ta. Neak ta looks after family and you must pray to it if you're sick. You pray to Buddha for merit but neak ta lives here [the wat] too.’ This was reflected in the different relative quantities and items involved in gift-giving for neak ta and Buddhist merit-making activities. After some discussion the monks of Wat Kompong Tralach agreed that each month, people would undertake to do the following: one offering, once a month to neak ta; and one offering to neak ta and the Buddha every T'ngai Seul and any other Buddhist ceremony. There was an extra offering made to neak ta each month, though one could hardly conclude that the temple's neak ta is more important simply because of the extra offering. Even so, the quantity of offerings made to the neak ta for the maintenance of harmony is substantial.

There was a general consensus on gift-giving for the Buddha and gift-giving for neak ta within the wat. Any significant event (such as the building of a new home or undertaking of a journey) requires a ceremony for neak ta. During Buddhist ceremonies gifts for neak ta were always given before those to the Buddha, and when giving gifts to the wat's neak ta one was to also include gifts to the neak ta of one's home (although on this point there was disagreement). The following gifts were said to be among the favourite of the local neak ta: boiled chicken, fried rice, fruit, wine, cigarettes, and small cakes.

When I later spoke with Loak Poun about this ‘menu’, he agreed with my observations, adding, ‘but this came from Brahmanism [promenh sasana]’. The importance of the boran style to Wat Kompong Tralach in many ways was cathartic for the older sangha members. They were not only very proud of the temple but of its reputation as a traditional wat which drew support from Khmers living overseas. There was a sense that its reputation and adherence to the old style of practice provided it with greater legitimacy compared to other temples which drew their patronage from more elite circles. It is the rebuilding of wats such as Wat Kompong Tralach which may have been the real catalyst for the greater degree of inclusion of disparate beliefs within Buddhist practice in Cambodia today than in prewar years. As noted above, Forest and Bertrand described the Buddhicisation of neak ta as occurring due to the lack of mediums for spirits reborn in a kind of Buddhist mode.Footnote ⁶² While my research supports their findings regarding fewer mediums, what also needs to be considered is what the impact of rebuilding wats played in that process.

Cambodians began rebuilding temples almost immediately following the Vietnamese invasion. Yet, a temple is merely a building, and without a competent sangha versed in Buddhist rituals, religious practice will likely reflect beliefs which lay people know best or at least those relevant to their needs. In prewar times there were roughly 60,000 monks; a number which dropped to almost zero between 1975–79. By 1981, 500 monks and 1,500 novices were ordained, and a year later an official report put the number of monks at 2,311 — 800 of whom had been monks before 1975.Footnote ⁶³ In 1981, though, only men over the age of 50 of good moral character with no connection to the Khmer Rouge were allowed to become monks as young men were needed to fight the ongoing insurgency. By 1991, there were about 20,000 monks and according the Ministry of Cults and Religion more than 50,000 by the turn of the century.Footnote ⁶⁴ Yet, given the level of destruction and loss of competent monks, traditional knowledge, and literature, monastic training remained weak compared to the prewar years, something both monks and villagers in this study readily admitted.

Throughout the 1980s and ‘90s as more and younger monks were ordained, they likely stepped into a temple context in which spirits such as neak ta had become or were in the process of becoming institutionalised within popular local Buddhist expression. Indeed, the poor quality of monastic training coupled with the delayed ordination of young men due to the ongoing war and needs of reconstruction may have added to this process. Thus, the Buddhicisation of spirits such as neak ta may be due both to a lack of mediums for the spirit beyond the confines of the wat as well as an overall lack of competent monastic cadres within the newly constructed or restored temples.

Looking over the new murals being painted on the walls of the salaa depicting various scenes from the life of the Buddha, Wat Kompong Tralach's monks described the various beliefs practised within the temple as part of Buddhism but having different historical antecedents: Brahmanism came before Buddhism while belief in neak ta was indigenous to Cambodia. Clearly and without any confusion in their minds, both were seen as aspects of Cambodian Buddhism even though each had their own respective specialists and ceremonies. The table below shows the different aspects of beliefs practised within Wat Kompong Tralach:

Table 1: Rituals performed at Wat Kompong Tralach

Note: ^aThese examples were given by monks and villagers, although both admitted offerings could differ from wat to wat. Likewise, food offerings for neak ta would also likely differ depending on village tradition.

Two things are noticeable in the table. First, the gifts to neak ta appear more mundane compared to those for the Buddha. Second, that more neak ta than Buddhist rituals are performed in an average month.

One may question the need for rituals for neak ta within the confines of a temple. After all, the emphasis on the Buddha and merit-making activities would seem to trump concerns for a tutelary spirit. Yet, the temple's neak ta was said to be particularly active, even dangerous, for anyone who entered the temple grounds at night or failed to acknowledge its presence. Older members of the sangha told me of an incident during a Kathen celebration at the temple several years before when a man died on the grounds after angering the temple's neak ta. During the Kathen ceremony lay people make merit by offering new robes to monks. The man had apparently hooked up some loudspeakers for the event to a large tree near the vihear. Unfortunately, this tree was the home of the neak ta, but the man had not performed a ritual to ask permission to attach the speakers to the tree. While finishing up, a loudspeaker fell on him and he later died from his injuries.

I found it curious that the spirit brought about a death on the wat's grounds — in front of the vihear, no less. However, those present dismissed this by saying that the fact that it happened in the temple did not influence the outcome. In fact, the neak ta was said to have caused the accident specifically because no request was made or ritual performed. Many of the younger monks deferred to their elders’ interpretation. Loak Gern and Poun were both in agreement that the older members of the sangha were more knowledgable about neak ta: ‘I don't know,’ Loak Gern said hesitantly, ‘They know more about that.’

Whether their position as younger monks dissuaded them from analysing the issue further or whether they accepted the sangha members' interpretation, both did not dispute that the neak ta was perceived as powerful enough to cause the accident. Both monks were from Prey Thom commune, yet, they differed from other young men their age given their desire to eventually move to the capital for further study, either at the Buddhist University or a public/private institution. Both were well-versed in the dhamma, had travelled within the country, and had ambitions which stretched beyond Wat Kompong Tralach and Kep Province. However, although both were considered to be very devout by local villagers, they were realistic about their role in the community and recognised that their analyses of events attributed to neak ta were not necessarily shared by other members of the sangha. In many ways Loak Poun's remark, ‘Buddhism in the city, neak ta in the countryside,’ was as much a dose of pragmatism as it was a lament.

The contemporary relationship between the sangha and neak ta is perhaps better illustrated by a meal I attended at Wat Kompong Tralach. Within Prey Thom Commune there was a classical music group made up of five local ex-soldiers, several of whom still wore their old army trousers or field-jackets, who played at festivals and other events. Normally they would not perform at a wat, but on one occasion during T'ngai Seul the sangha decided to pool their money together for a concert. The group set up their traditional instruments in the salaa — two large drums (sampho), three standing string instruments (tro), and one smaller drum (skor dai). The salaa was filled with the regular sangha members arranging the offerings that would accompany the music. The program lasted close to 20 minutes and was played prior to the monks' usual noontime prayers.

I had attended noontime meals at the temple several times, but what was different on this occasion was that the sangha asked the group to play to appease the neak ta of the wat, Neak Ta Dta-Māk. Before the group began playing they called out to the neak ta, asking it to come and accept the offerings. As I sat next to the other monks in the salaa listening to the performance, I asked Loak Poun whether the group's presence in the wat and playing music for the neak ta somehow ran counter to Buddhism. ‘No,’ he replied, ‘they play for neak ta, bray, devedas, and Buddha.’

He later noted that as the ceremony took place in the wat the Buddha would necessarily be included out of respect. Outside the wat or even at the northeastern part of the perimeter where the neak ta shrine was located, the Buddha would not be included. As one of the protectors of the wat, the neak ta may be the recipient of offerings and music, however, within the temple it was recognised that its place was lower than the Buddha's. The offerings that were given, though, were much more elaborate than those for the Buddha or monks. A meal consisting of a stuffed, roasted pig, rice, vegetables, and rice wine was brought into the salaa and displayed before the music commenced.

It is safe to say that normally one would never bring alcohol into the wat, nor offer it to the Buddha. Since the ceremony was paid for by the local core sangha members (all of whom were over 50) and approved by the abbot (who was 74), it was not a case of younger monks bringing in forbidden material without realising it ran counter to tradition. When I enquired about the alcohol Loak Poun replied that although it was not to be given as a gift for the Buddha, ‘But neak ta … it's okay.’

The stuffed pig took centre-stage on a cloth blanket with the other dishes in fine silver bowls displayed around it, clearly showing that more time had gone into the preparation of this meal than for a normal noontime one. This may be attributed to the infrequency of such ceremonies as well as the fact that foods such as pork and alcohol cannot be consumed by monks. The dichotomy of the elaborate meal for the neak ta compared to normal meals also demonstrates the space allotted to the various traditions within the temple. Based on observations on the use of space and neak ta rituals in relation to the buildings in the wat (such as the salaa and vihear), there would appear to be room for grey areas that expand and contract according to the ritual, practitioners, and desired outcome of a given ceremony.

Given its rarity, T'ngai Seul or another festival would likely provide the best possible venue for such a ceremony. And while the younger monks did not take part in the ceremony, they were present for it. Was their attendance a form of participation? If not, did their presence act as a means of adding potency to the ceremony, and if so, is that not itself a mode of participation? The junior monks did not read too much into it as they were all in their early twenties and more concerned with their studies. When questioned, they responded that since the ceremony was held before the recitation of the dhamma they were naturally seated in their customary places. However, when I pressed Loak Poun on whether the monks' presence would benefit the ceremony and, therefore, the overall harmony sought, he and the other members of the sangha conceded, ‘It's good for everyone to be here.’