I’ve been suspicious of rituals that permeate Sri Lankan life. It stems from a powerful lifelong inner conviction I’ve had since I was a child. The rituals around me – from dinner dances to school assemblies to pujas – were false, contrived, and manipulative. Deep down, I wanted nothing to do with them. So there – I’ve said it.
The suspicion manifested sensation in the chest. Warring with it was a misery that something was wrong with me to have that conviction. The guilt never dented the power of the initial conviction. The spiral used to create a strange sense of inner detachment and alienation. It trained me to keep my thoughts to myself and claim inner cultural independence.
It got me fascinated with anthropological writing on Sri Lankan culture. Understanding the inexplicable rituals around me was a powerful driving force. However, I never got a convincing big-picture answer to why people do what they do until now.
It came to me in a podcast interviewing anthropologist and cognitive scientist Dimitris Xygalatas. It’s worth a listen. I found the interview snapping together realisations about my suspicions about mass rituals.
The gist of Dimitris’s research is that rituals are a way of brain hacking. They create physiological changes in the human body, which alter people’s perceptions. At its core, rituals are no different from psychiatric drugs.
Rituals allow humans to cope with the eternal issues of existence. The anxieties stemming from life’s uncertainties. Balancing one’s identity as an individual with the need to bond with a group identity.
Realisations always create new mysteries. The interview didn’t explain my powerful inner conviction about the falseness of rituals. So far, this is the theory I have.
Rituals are meant to alter perception – thus alter reality. However, in my convictions, altering perception alone is not enough. For example, relieving anxiety about a drought does not change weather patterns to bring rain. Nor does it result in effective water management policies and practices. Both of which are harder and duller to pull off than any ritual. Similarly, a ritual to get through an exam did not change the facts about a decaying education system set up by looters to facilitate looting.
In that context, my inner contempt of ritual stems from the fact that rituals avoid the need to confront deeper problems. It’s like having another drink rather than dealing with the causes of alcoholism.
At a more significant level, mass rituals are a form of political control. They give legitimacy to the ideas that prop up a society’s ruling oligarchy – no matter how corrupt and destructive they are. The events of 2022 in Sri Lanka emphasise that (at least to the voices in my head). However, that’s another rant, another post.
Thank you for reading this far. May 2023 be better year for you and all of us.
Cerno 