SHAMANISM IN PREHISTORIC FINLAND
Linguistic and archaeological evidence, as well as methods of analogy and comparison, suggest that the earliest religious world-view indigenous to Finland was dominated by shamanic beliefs and practices.
The most archaic roots of the prehistoric religion can be found in traditions transmitted by Palaeo-Arctic hunters who inhabited vast areas in northern Russia and Siberia. In the lexicon of the prehistoric population the word denoting shaman in Finnish was noita, functionally the equivalent of the Tungus (Evenki) term saman. The cognate of noita in the North Sami dialect is noaidi and in the Ob-Ugrian language Mansi riajt. It was originally the name given to a religious specialist honoured by the community (see Rydving 2010: 78).Material evidence of the tradition of the noita as a shamanic healer can be seen in horned human figures and stags carved into sunlit rock-faces, as for instance at Astuvansalmi near the town of Ristiina in eastern Finland. By the year 2007, altogether 126 prehistoric rock carvings had been documented, mostly from the shorelines of the two largest freshwater lakes in south-eastern Finland, Paijanne and Saimaa (Lahelma 2008: 18-19, 200-276). Rock carvings at these sites date back to a period extending from the late comb-decorated-pottery culture into the beginning of the Bronze Age (3500-1500 BCE). Classified as expressions of art and religion, rock carvings with human and animal figures and depictions of hands and boats painted with red ochre on the steep, upright lakeshore cliffs provide the principal source of evidence regarding the world-view of prehistoric hunters and gatherers. The interpretation of the purpose of these carvings depicting stickfigure human and animal images (shamans and moose) has been mainly based on similarities with later shamanic systems of belief (Sarvas & Taavitsainen 1976; Taavitsainen 1978; Siikala 1981; Lahelma 2008).
By falling into a trance and separating the soul from the body, the shaman of various northern peoples cures the sick, escorts the souls of the dead to the underworld, and foretells the future. The shaman thus transcends time and space as well as the boundaries between the living and the non-living, and between the inhabited and non-inhabited territories, in order to find something lost or to assist hunters in tracking down and killing their quarry and in observing taboo restrictions while bringing home animals.Shamanic traits can be detected also in origin narratives and heroic legends written down in the nineteenth century from singers of epic poetry in the villages of Northern Karelia, but the motifs of which are thought to date back to the Viking era (800-1100 CE). The central agent in these poems is the culture hero Vainamdinen who as a “man of knowledge” is a parallel to the figure of Odin in Scandinavian mythology. Vainamdinen is linked with the motif of a visit to Tuonela, the world of the dead. Whereas Odin takes the form of a snake and creeps into a rock to drink mead, the mythical culture hero Vainamdinen sets out to the dark region of the mythical dwelling site of the dead to acquire the magic words needed to complete the building of his boat. Vainamdinen falls into a conversation with the daughter of Tuoni and in order to rescue himself takes the form of a lizard and swims across the river of Tuonela back to the land of the living. The shamanic journey of Vainamdinen is portrayed in a folk poem, recorded from Jyrki Malinen, a singer of epic poetry, at the villages of Vuonninen and Vuokkiniemi in Archangel Karelia, by A. A. Borenius in 1871:
The old Vainamoini said
“I came for spikes from Tuoni a crowbar from Manala.”
Then the daughters of Tuoni iron-clawed, iron-fingered spinners of the iron thread brought a little boat.
They treated the man as man
the hero like a hero: they gave him food, gave him drink - some serpent-venom some lizard-heads.
They even laid him to rest
on a bed of silk which was of serpent-venom.
Then the old Vainamoini felt his doom coming his day of distress dawning: changed himself to a brown worm slithered into a lizard, swam across Tuoni’s river.
(Kuusi et al. 1977: 193)
The Finnish folklorist and historian of religions Martti Haavio (1899-1973) has located the folk poems revolving around Vainamdinen “in the centuries following the birth of Christ” ([1952] 1991: 235). According to Haavio, the poetic cycle with Vainamdinen as its central mythical figure represents a shamanistic cultural environment prevalent in the coastal regions of western Finland. The name of Vainamdinen is derived from the Finnish word vdind, signifying water (Haavio [1952] 1991: 235). Anna-Leena Siikala, a present-day scholar of folklore and popular religion, illustrates the cultural background of the motif:
Underlying it [the shamanic journey] is the concept of the distant land of the dead characteristic of hunting and fishing cultures. In the Finnish- Karelian culture area, this concept existed alongside other images of the land of the dead until the 20th century. Snake-related themes are also familiar from Scandinavian depictions of the other world as can be seen from the characterization made by Nastrondr: “drops of poison fall in through the roof-vents, the hall is woven of serpents’ spines.” The depiction of a supernatural being as made of iron or having iron limbs, and the beer being offered to the guests of the other world, are features which can be traced back to Old Norse tradition.
(Siikala 2002: 304-5)
In addition to the shamans of Finnish folk tradition, a person called tietaja (derived from the Finnish verb tietaa “to know”) was in charge of accessing secret knowledge on various issues in the social and natural life of Viking Age local communities. The tietaja was a ritual specialist in the agrarian-based village community, who could master powers deemed supernatural. He could ward off evil forces, keep illnesses at a distance and prevent accidents.
But at the same time, the tietaja had power (Finnish vdki) to cause damage to his enemies. The tietaja manipulated the forces of nature by means of incantations. The tietaja could call on the powers of the earth, of the forest, of the lakes, of the air and of the wind. The tietaja was, however, not a shaman (who, as we have seen, is designated by a different Finnish word, noita). The latter was the master of souls and could use a ritual technique in order to withdraw his soul from the body, that is, fall into a trance. Both shamans and tietdjat were mostly men, whose role it was to maintain the social order (Siikala 2002: 76-84).Along with shamanism, bear ceremonialism represents the oldest layer in the prehistoric religion of Finland. Parallel rituals revolving around the bear are widespread not only in the Arctic and sub-Arctic areas, but also in Palaeolithic Europe. In addition to the Northern Uralic peoples, the bear was regarded as a sacred animal among the Sami, the Khanty, the Mansi, the Ainu and other Palaeo-Asiatic indigenous cultures (see Ankrava, this volume, Ch. 26). The Finnish data testify to the notion that the bear rituals contained a sequence of rites which displays a tripartite pattern: (1) the killing of the bear, (2) the bear feast (Finnish karhunpeijaiset), and (3) the rite of the bear’s skull (Haavio 1967: 15-41). The first literary evidence of bear rituals in Finland is provided by the Lutheran bishop Isak Rothovius. Inaugurating the Academy of Turku in 1640, the bishop scourged the Finns for their heathen practices: “It is said”, Rothovius scolded, “that having killed a bear, they hold a feast and drink from the skull of the bear and make sounds resembling its growling, in this way wishing to secure themselves successful hunting and rich game for the future” (Sarajas 1956: 41).
The fact that a ritual process revolved around the bear was due to the sacredness of this animal, that is, its symbolic status in popular imagery and in social systems of value.
The bear was the most powerful animal of the forest and distant boundary zone between the two worlds where everything is turned upside down. Tuonela, the abode of the dead, is thus the opposite of the world of the living (Siikala 2002: 145-53, 301-7).A parallel to the conception of Tuonela is the abode of the dead in the underworld, known as Manala. This region was conceived of as a low-lying place to which the souls of the dead depart after leaving their earthly home. The word Manala comes from the word marras, denoting death. The term marras dates back to the Indo-European root *mrtd-, with cognates such as Sanskrit marta- “mortal, human being”. The word marras is still used in modern Finnish to designate the outer, dying layer of the human skin and is an element in the compound word that designates the month of November, marraskuu, which stands for the darkest month of the year and marks the end of the annual cycle of the old agrarian-based calendar system. In the mythological poems of the Kalevala, the dark and dreary domain of Manala is conceived of as the mythical dwelling place of the dead people located in Pohjola, the North Land. Above the earth, there is a gigantic dome or canopy of the sky. This dome is fixed around the North Star and is supported by a gigantic world pillar, called Sampo in the Kalevala poems, which reaches down to the centre of the earth.
In the Kalevalaic Sampo poems, Pohjola, the North Land, plays an important role. The thirty-eighth poem of the Kalevala describes the effort to get the mysterious Sampo from the mythic Pohjola in order to ensure the blessing of humans. Elias Lonnrot, who compiled and published the Finnish national epic Kalevala in 1835, based his rendition of the Sampo songs on the material he collected from the singers of epic poetry, Ontrei Malinen from Vuonninen and Arhippa Perttunen from Latvajarvi, on his fourth (1833) and fifth (1834) journey to Archangel Karelia (Anttonen & Kuusi 1999: 26-8). In the poem, the mythical stage is set by the encounter between Vainamdinen, the eternal sage, and the craft sman Ilmarinen.
Vainamdinen asks how people are living at the otherworldly village of Pohjola and gets this answer:1They are living high at Pohjola! There the Sampo is milling away, the bright lid of the heavens going round and round, one day it was grinding things to eat, the next day things to barter, the third day things to store at home.
They are living high at Pohjola, Because the Sampo is at Pohjola! There is ploughing there, sowing there, there are all sorts of increase there, everlasting good fortune there.
The Sampo cycle portrays the cosmogonic scenery and the fate of the primordial hero Vainamdinen, who after a heavy storm is lost adrift at sea and washed up on the shores of Pohjola, weeping and with his powers exhausted.
Ahti fish from the sea. Ainemoinen wrought songs to sing, Rahkoi turned the moon dark. Liekkio governed all things growing: grass, roots and trees. Ilmarinen brought peace and good weather and protected the traveller. Turisas gave victory in war, Kratti took care of worldly goods. Tonttu (Genius loci) watched over the house when the Devil made many wild. Kapeet was another eater of the moon, the Giants of Kaleva made the meadows But the Karelians had these idols they prayed to: Rongoteus gave the rye, Pellonpekko granted the barley.
Virankannos raised the oats, else there were none. Agras created peas, beans, turnips, helped the cabbage, flax, and hemp. Kondos made the swidden clearings and plowed fields when he saw their lack of faith and when the spring sowing was done then they drank Ukko’s cup, they sought Ukko’s sowing basket and young and old, all were drunk. So many shameful deeds were done /both hearing and seeing. When Rauni, Ukko’s woman began to splash, Ukko gave great rain from the bottom of the heavens; that gave good weather and new harvest. Kekri was the one who helped the cattle grow Hiisi gave victory over forest creatures. The mother of water brought fish to their nets, Nyrkes gave squirrels from the woods, Hittavanin the hares from the bush.
Are not the people possessed, who believe in these and pray to them? It was the Devil and sin that drew them to bow down to and believe in them. Taking food to the graves of the dead where they wailed, lamented, and wept likewise the dead received their sacrifices because of widows they cared for and wed.
Even though Agricola held these mythological agents to be gods, albeit false ones, research on the list (Anttonen 2012a) has shown that the agents with these enigmatic names do not fall within the category “god” in our accustomed sense of the word. As Martti Haavio points out, in ordinary colloquial Finnish the term jumala, denoting god, is not a proper name referring only to the Christian God, or to an analogous celestial superhuman agent, but is a generalized concept. In Finnish popular traditions, the concepts jumala “god” and luonto “nature” are related. These words were used to refer to a vast array of things and characteristics ascribed, for example, to the sky and thunder, to the sun or the moon as well as to such powerful individuals as witches, makers of spells and shamans (Haavio 1967: 327-8). Christianus Erici Lencqvist, vicar of Karjalohja and a pupil of the Enlightenment scholar Henrik Gabriel Porthan (1739-1804), argues in his two-volume doctoral thesis (1782) De superstitione veterum Fennorum theoretica et practica (“On the theoretical and practical superstitions of the ancient Finns”) that “In our language the word is not the proper name of some old false god, but an appellative term whereby we address our god, whether the true God or a false one” (Lencqvist 1782, quoted in Porthan 1982: 50).4 Their semantic content was determined by two closely connected important notions: the idea of transformation and the idea of growth. Transformation is a necessary process enacted by participants in rituals in order to receive their “share, one’s portion” (Finnish osa), by manipulating diverse non-ordinary powers of nature (Finnish vdki) in order to obtain “luck” (Finnish onni). As such, transformation is an important element in the idea of agency. The Finnish scholar of folk religion Martti Haavio posited that in Finnish folk tradition jumala is not only an agent which creates, but also that out of which something is created. To designate something as a member in the generic class of “god”, it has to have the capacity to produce, to enable or enhance the positive ends pursued by people in their social and economic life (Haavio 1959: 4-5, 280-81).
A closer examination of written documents and collections of oral tradition accumulated in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society and the Research Institute for the Languages of Finland shows that Agricola selected an inconsistent set of mythological names which occur in various genres of oral tradition, most of them in fact having Christian origins: in myth-transmitting epic poems, in etiological tales and belief legends, in spells, charms and prayer incantations derived from the Catholic tradition as well as in individual, idiosyncratic beliefs. Various judgements have been passed on the character of the catalogue itself and on the principles followed by Agricola in drawing it up (Harva 1948: 1-21; Hautala 1954: 26-30; Honko 1963: 296-301; Anttonen 2012a). The list is thus genuine evidence of folk religion in the western and eastern part of the country in the Middle Ages, but needs to be looked at critically when making judgements about what elements may have been inherited from Late Iron Age society. The most reliable knowledge in the list concerns Ukko, who is addressed as a supreme deity. It has been assumed that Ukko, denoting “old man”, is the pre-Christian god of thunder and sky of the agriculturalist Finns. Ukko is equivalent to the Indo-European gods of the sky and weather such as Indra in Vedic India and Thor in Scandinavian mythology. Ukko had specific attributes by which he demonstrated the possession of his “almighty” power, which also the men of knowledge, the tietdjas, appealed to for help and support as their celestial allies: these were sword, club, shield and harness (see Siikala 2002: 205). Ukko is the provider of auspicious weather for the growth of grain, the creator of thunder and rain during the summer.
The most important lines in Agricola’s list which are most likely linked with the pre-historic religious stratum concern rituals titled Ukon vakat, ritual drinking arranged in Ukko’s honour:
And when the spring sowing was done then they drank Ukko’s cup, they sought Ukko’s sowing basket and young and old, all were drunken. So many shameful deeds were done both hearing and seeing, when Rauni, Ukko’s woman began to splash, Ukko gave great rain from the bottom of the heavens5 that gave good weather and new harvest.6
The ambiguous meaning of the verb harskya, to splash, associated with Ukko’s assumed wife Rauni, has been a very difficult mythological puzzle for scholars to solve. On the basis of the Sami dictionary compiled by Eric Lindahl and Johannes Ohrling (Lexikon Lapponicum, 1780), the Finnish priest Jakob Fellman (1795- 1875) connected the theonym Rauni with ravdna, “rowan tree”. Fellman wrote in his book Anteckingar under min vistelse i Lappmarken I-IV that “Ravdna is Ukko’s childless wife, also known to the Sami as Akko.” The rowan hypothesis was also supported by the Finnish linguist E. N. Setala, according to whom the Swedish word ronn, “rowan”, is derived from the Scandinavian *rauniR. Since in Scandinavian traditions the rowan is connected with Thor, Setala suggested that the rowan and Ukko were connected also in Finnish pre-Christian folk beliefs. Uno Harva conjectured that the connection between Rauni and the rowan is a figurative one: both serve as “cover names” for the rainbow that appears during a thunderstorm. Rauni, according to Harva, is the wife of the thunder-god, personified as the rainbow (Harva 1948: 129).
Martti Haavio adopted a new line of enquiry. He rejected the interpretation of Rauni as the metaphorical theonym of the rowan tree. Instead, he regarded Rauni as the Finnish analogue of the Scandinavian theonym Freyr, the Nordic goddess of fertility. The southern Swedish form of Freyr is Fro, which is derived from the Germanic word *Frauja(n). The speakers of the Gothic language used the name Frauja in the same sense as the Christian “Lord, saviour”. Haavio concluded that Rauni is not a feminine fertility deity but a masculine one. He conjectured that Agricola’s lines have been misinterpreted: Agricola was not referring to a divine couple consisting of husband and wife, but to a male god Rauni-Ukko, whose unnamed spouse (Rauni-Ukko’s naini) was sexually lecherous (harskynyt·, Haavio 1959: 84-91). Haavio was convinced that Agricola was referring to a local variant of the widespread hieros gamos motif. According to Haavio, in the feast of Ukon vakat (“Ukko’s sowing basket”), farmers ensured favourable weather and good harvest through a ritual re-enactment of Ukko-Rauni’s celestial marriage.
Recently, the Finnish archaeologist Unto Salo has accommodated both the rowan hypothesis and Haavio’s hieros gamos theory into his new interpretation (see Salo 2006). Salo agrees with the view that Rauni-Ukko is used by Agricola as a metaphorical referent of the rowan tree, but also accepts the idea that the verses in Agricola have a sexual connotation, adding new evidence to support this combined hypothesis: archaeological findings of vulva-shaped flint stones, the oldest of which have been dated to the early Roman period, about 50-200 CE, and extending to the later Roman period, 200-400 CE, when they were most common (Salo 2006: 36-48). Oval, vulva-shaped flint stones were still in use during the Merovingian period (550-800 CE). On the basis of such flint stone finds, Unto Salo assumes that “their form must be attributable to the myth of using an arrow to light the first [i.e. heavenly] fire, which was repeated as a rite when striking the earthly fire” (Salo 1997: 225).
No scholarly consensus has, however, emerged as to the proper interpretation of Agricola’s lines on Ukko ja Rauni. Personally I find the hieros gamos theory and its connection to the ritual striking of fire very hard to accept. I find it reasonable to assume that Rauni is used by Agricola as a metaphorical expression of the rowan tree. The connection between Ukko the sky god and the rowan is explained by the fact that a heavy rain was most conducive to the sprouting of the newly sown grain precisely in the springtime and early summer when the rowan tree is bursting into leaf and flower, and rustles in the wind. In various Finnish dialects the verb hdrskya can refer to a light rain, to splashing, to scolding, nagging or mocking; no clear sense of ruttishness or lecherousness attaches to the expression.
Throughout the Middle Ages and most likely already in prehistoric times, the rowan (Sorbus aucuparid) was perceived as a tree with magical properties. In folk tradition, the rowan was deemed sacred. The sacrality of the rowan tree does not, however, signify a connection to a specific religion. The attribute “sacred” is used to mark the symbolic potential of this species because of its anomalous character in the folk taxonomy of trees. In popular imagery, the rowan is perceived as a tree that grows berries instead of fruits and, even more strikingly, red berries which otherwise grow mostly on bushes. Moreover, the bloodlike, inedible berries become ripe late in the autumn after harvest time. In various genres of folklore, such as in epics and riddles, the rowan has been metaphorically connected to pregnant women within the bounds of domestic space. In the twenty-third poem of the Kalevala, there are verses in which a bride is addressed in the context of her wedding and advised to beware of the rowan since the tree and its twigs are sacred, the most sacred part of the tree being its berries, which are used as a metaphor of an unborn child.
In addition to the magical use of rowan in purification rituals, in the form of circles, hoops and bands, in rites performed by women to protect cows and horses when put out to pasture, there are riddles in Finnish folklore that signify the connection between the rowan tree, pregnant women and unborn children in the context of the homestead (see Haavio 1938: 98-112). The rowan retained its religious signification after the advent of Christianity and is metaphorically linked with the Virgin Mary. Agricola expresses, in poetic form, how the Karelians ensured seasonal growth and good harvest at springtime when the rowan’s white blossoms “splashed”, if Ukko, who came to be linked with Saint Urbanus in medieval times representing auspicious weather conditions, gave rain from the bottom of the heavens (Anttonen 1996: 125-8; 1997; 1998).