Promoted post: Placebo Effect in Medicine and Psychology: From Lourdes to Charcot and the Critique of Homeopathy and Birth of Modern Medicine: Jean-Martin Charcot’s Analysis of Shrine of Our Lady of Lourdes

Presented by Zia H Shah MD

Middle East and North Africa (MENA)

In the MENA region, the prevalent term for Islamic exorcism is ruqyah, referring to the recitation of Qur’anic verses and prophetic prayers to expel jinn or evil influencesmoroccoworldnews.com. Common methods include reading chapters like Al-Fatiha and the last two surahs (Al-Falaq and An-Nas) often over water for the patient to drinkmoroccoworldnews.com. This orthodox approach is rooted in hadith traditions of the Prophet using Qur’anic recitation for healingmoroccoworldnews.com. Alongside ruqyah, there are folk healing rituals such as the Zar ceremony in Egypt and Sudan, where groups (often led by women) use drumming, trance-dancing, and incense to appease possessing spirits identified as jinnfolklife.si.edufolklife.si.edu. While belief in jinn is sanctioned by scripture (the Quran even has a chapter named Al-Jinn), folk exorcism rituals like Zar are viewed by many modern Middle Eastern Muslims as “backwards” or low-class practicesfolklife.si.edu. Still, knowledge of these rites is widespread – many Egyptians, for example, know someone who has attended a Zar, even if they publicly dismiss it as superstitionfolklife.si.edu.

Who seeks out exorcism? People across age and gender lines consult spiritual healers in MENA, typically when facing unexplained misfortunes, persistent illness, psychological distress, or “evil eye” afflictions. In many societies, women are frequent participants – for instance, Zar ceremonies historically function as communal healing spaces for women plagued by marital or mental woesfolklife.si.edu. At mainstream ruqyah sessions, both men and women may be present (often segregated by gender), though families sometimes prefer female patients be treated by female healers if available. Socio-economic factors also play a role: rural and lower-income individuals have traditionally relied more on folk healers, but even educated, urban families resort to ruqyah if they believe a loved one’s suffering has supernatural causes. In Morocco, for example, roughly 18% of people report having witnessed an exorcism firsthandpewresearch.org – a figure higher than in many other MENA countries – suggesting a notable segment of society engages with these practices. Those afflicted are sometimes children or young adults who exhibit unusual behavior (interpreted as jinn possession), or adults facing business or marriage problems blamed on sorcery or the evil eye.

Who are the practitioners? The practitioners range from devout imams and sheikhs to informal folk healers. Raqis (ruqyah practitioners) are usually men with a reputation for piety and Quranic knowledge, though not always formally trained clerics. They perform exorcisms by Quran recitation, supplication, and sometimes physically confronting the jinn (e.g. shouting commands, or gently restraining the patient). In folk traditions like Zar, the leaders are often elderly women spiritual mediums (such as the Zar kuwaisa or mother of the ritual) who inherit the role through community lineage. Across North Africa, marabouts (Muslim holy men, often Sufi sages) historically serve as healers – writing protective amulets, prescribing herbal remedies, or performing blessings to ward off spirits. In recent decades, a “raqi industry” has emerged, with self-styled exorcists advertising services online and via social mediamoroccoworldnews.com. These practitioners may or may not have formal religious credentials; some are simply charismatic individuals claiming special spiritual power. Importantly, gender roles differ by practice: ruqyah is male-dominated in public, whereas women play central roles in rituals like Zar and other local spirit cults.

Economic models: Traditionally, many imams performed ruqyah as a charitable act or accepted only modest gifts. However, exorcism has increasingly become a commercial enterprise in parts of MENA. In Morocco, officials have noted that ruqyah “has turned into a lucrative business,” with some raqis openly charging fees (e.g. 50–100 Moroccan dirhams per session, about $5–$10) as if they were medical doctorsmoroccoworldnews.com. Indeed, cases of exploitation have come to light: one Moroccan raqi was arrested for sexually assaulting female clients under the pretext of exorcismmoroccoworldnews.com, and lawmakers debated cracking down on these “fake raqis” and charlatansmoroccoworldnews.commoroccoworldnews.com. Elsewhere in the Middle East, many exorcists sustain themselves through donations or gifts: families might offer cash, livestock, or other presents in gratitude for a successful healing. At popular shrine sites (for example, saint tombs in Algeria or Tunisia), caretakers collect nazr (votive offerings) from visitors seeking the saint’s intercession against jinn or evil eye. Folk healers like Zar leaders might receive payment in kind (food, cloth, etc.) for organizing a ceremony. There is also a modern twist – some healers promote their services on Facebook or satellite TV and earn income through remote consultations or selling “blessed” products (holy water, oils, amulets) to a broad clientele.

Institutional and societal roles: The attitude of religious institutions and governments in MENA toward exorcism is ambivalent. On one hand, ruqyah – being grounded in Quran and hadith – is generally accepted by the Islamic establishment. State-affiliated religious bodies (like Egypt’s Al-Azhar) often issue guidelines: they approve Quranic healing but condemn any use of polytheistic chants or magic. On the other hand, overtly folk practices (trance rituals, blood sacrifices to appease spirits, etc.) are usually left out of official discourse or actively discouraged as un-Islamic. Governments intervene mainly in cases of abuse or public scandal: for instance, Moroccan authorities have vowed to intensify crackdowns on fraudulent healers after high-profile incidentsmoroccoworldnews.com. Some states have even codified this – Saudi Arabia, for example, criminalizes sorcery and has a “Anti-Witchcraft Unit,” yet permits ruqyah by licensed clerics. Generally, health ministries in the region assert that medical issues should be handled by professionals, urging citizens not to rely solely on exorcistsmoroccoworldnews.com. Despite that, the public healthcare shortfalls mean spiritual healers remain a parallel system. Local authorities sometimes tacitly accommodate these practices (e.g. allowing exorcism gatherings, or having police defer to community elders in jinn-related cases) to maintain social harmony. Meanwhile, entrenched social interests – such as Sufi brotherhoods and traditional healers – quietly support the continuation of folk exorcisms. In many North African communities, Sufi lodges and marabout families hold considerable influence; their economic and social status is reinforced by the steady stream of followers seeking blessings and cures. This patronage creates a self-reinforcing cycle: belief in jinn afflictions sustains the demand for healers, and the healers’ social standing in turn legitimizes the belief.

Sub-Saharan Africa

Across sub-Saharan Africa, Islamic exorcism intertwines with indigenous spiritual traditions, producing a rich tapestry of practices. West Africa has a long heritage of marabouts and Mallams – Islamic holy men and scholars – serving as healers and exorcists. In the Hausa-speaking regions (northern Nigeria, Niger), Islamic exorcism is called ruqya or shafa’a, but often operates alongside the pre-Islamic Bori spirit-possession cult. Many Muslim healers here pragmatically mix Quranic methods with traditional onesjisc.thebrpi.org. For example, a Yoruba Muslim healer in southwest Nigeria might recite Qur’an and prayers over a patient, but also use spiritually potent herbs, ritual bathing, or symbolic rites inherited from Yoruba shamanismjisc.thebrpi.org. In fact, researchers note that some Yoruba Muslim exorcists perform a hybrid of Islamic and traditional practices: they rely on fasting and night prayers yet also prepare incenses of Quran-blessed roots, and administer herb-infused water or oil for the afflicted to drink and bathe injisc.thebrpi.orgjisc.thebrpi.org. By contrast, younger, reform-minded exorcists in Nigeria tend to use strictly “Islamic” techniques – reciting verses into the possessed person’s ear and avoiding any indigenous ritual, an approach influenced by revivalist movementsjisc.thebrpi.orgjisc.thebrpi.org. Meanwhile, East Africa and the Horn have their own traditions: among Somalis, for instance, Quranic healing by sheikhs is common, but there are also women’s spirit-possession ceremonies like Saar (analogous to the Zar) where rhythmic chants and dances are used to placate jinn. Along the Swahili Coast (Kenya, Tanzania), Islamic culture has absorbed beliefs in pepo or shetani spirits; local mganga healers might recite Arabic verses and burn talismanic inscriptions to drive out these entities, blending Islam with African healing lore.

Who seeks exorcism in Africa? All strata of society engage with these practices, though the degree varies by education and access to alternatives. In rural West Africa, it is quite normative for families to consult a marabout when someone exhibits bizarre behavior or prolonged illness – such conditions are often attributed to jinn possession or evil spells. Women are prominently represented among those seeking help: for example, in parts of the Sahel it’s commonly believed that jinn target women (especially those who are pregnant, infertile, or “disobedient”), so many possessed or “cursed” patients are female. One Nigerian study indeed noted women’s vulnerabilities in jinn afflictions and documented two main healing avenues: the girka cult (a Hausa spirit-possession ritual) and Islamic ruqya, the former often involving women mediums, the latter usually male clericsresearchgate.net. Men, however, also seek out exorcists – frequently for issues like failure in business, impotence, or psychiatric troubles that families interpret in spiritual terms. Age is diverse: children thought to be under “evil eye” or witchcraft might be brought in for Quranic protection; young adults who have sudden psychotic episodes are taken for jinn expulsion; the elderly may request healing for chronic ailments via prayers and charms. Socio-economically, reliance on spiritual healers remains very high among African Muslims broadly. A Pew survey found majorities in many African countries use traditional religious healers for illness – e.g. 73% in Senegal, 68% in Chad – far outstripping the Middle Eastern averagepewresearch.orgpewresearch.org. This reflects both cultural acceptance and the reality that biomedical facilities are scarce in many areas.

Practitioners in sub-Saharan Africa: There is a wide spectrum. At one end are religious clerics – imams, mallams, or alfa – who may have formal Quranic education and see exorcism as part of their spiritual duty. They typically emphasize halal methods (Quran recitation, dua, and Sunnah remedies like black seed or holy water). In northern Nigeria, some such exorcists are affiliated with revivalist groups (e.g. local chapters of the Tablighi Jamaat or Salafi circles) and explicitly reject occultismjisc.thebrpi.org. In the middle are syncretic healers – often older men reputed for spiritual power – who combine Islamic verses with charms and divination. They might use numeric Quranic numerology for diagnosis or enlist jinn whom they claim to control, a practice known as ilmu’l-hisab or other esoteric sciencesjisc.thebrpi.org. At the other end are traditional spirit mediums, some of whom are women, who lead possession dances (like Bori or Zar) to negotiate with spirits. Notably, West African marabout lineages often double as exorcists and political spiritual advisors; these marabouts can be quite influential, commanding loyalty of thousands of followers. Across the region, a common practice among many Muslim exorcists is physical intervention: if a jinn “speaks” through the patient or refuses to leave, the healer may lightly beat or restrain the person to coerce the spirit. For instance, Yoruba Muslim exorcists will strike the possessed on the shoulders or feet – never the face – citing prophetic prohibitions on striking the facejisc.thebrpi.orgjisc.thebrpi.org. This is believed to inflict pain on the stubborn jinn without seriously harming the host’s body.

Economic and power structures: In much of sub-Saharan Africa, spiritual healing is a significant informal economy. Many healers request a consultation fee or expect remuneration in the form of livestock, gifts, or future favors. A marabout might charge for writing personalized hijab (amulet pouches containing Quranic verses) or for performing a multi-night exorcism vigil. In Nigeria’s cities, some Muslim healers charge per session, similar to a doctor’s visit, while village clerics might accept whatever the patient’s family can afford. Patronage networks are strong – wealthy individuals may “sponsor” a favored marabout by providing funds to his Quranic school in exchange for ongoing spiritual protection. These entrenched patronage systems create vested interests that help these practices persist. In some West African societies, marabouts and Sufi shaikhs wield social and political clout; they often serve as power brokers and are courted by politicians. This status quo encourages tolerance (or even quiet support) from local authorities, since attempting to suppress traditional exorcists could provoke community backlash. Nonetheless, there are tensions: reformist Islamic movements in Africa have campaigned against what they see as un-Islamic superstition. For example, the Izala movement in Nigeria condemns Bori spirit ceremonies and the use of amulets, promoting pure tawhid instead. Similarly, in Sudan, Islamist governments have periodically banned Zar gatherings as “pagan”; under such pressure many Zar and Bori practices went semi-undergroundacademicexcellencesociety.com. Governmental stance varies – some countries, like Tanzania, criminalize harmful witchcraft practices (used to prosecute witch-doctors who accuse children of witchcraft), but they typically do not directly outlaw Quranic exorcism. Instead, officials may occasionally intervene in extreme abuse cases. In summary, sub-Saharan Islamic exorcism endures through a combination of deep cultural embedding and adaptive syncretism: it is reinforced by community need and the authority of traditional healers, even as modernist forces push for healthcare modernization and religious “purification” of the practice.

South Asia (India, Pakistan, Bangladesh)

South Asia’s Muslim communities exhibit vibrant exorcism and spiritual healing traditions, where Islamic concepts of jinn possession meet regional folk beliefs. A widely used term is “jhaar phoonk” (literally “sweep and blow”) for the practice of reciting verses and blowing over a patient, essentially equivalent to ruqyah. People also speak of “doing dam” on someone (blowing Quranic breath) and taweez (amulets) when referring to these healing practices. Traditional Sufi shrines (dargahs) are major centers of exorcistic healing. Families flock to the tombs of saints – for example, the shrine of Abdullah Shah in Thatta, Sindh or Data Darbar in Lahore – believing the saint’s spirit can drive away possessing jinn or magic. At these shrines, rituals may include tying the afflicted with chains within the sacred precinct (to keep the jinn from fleeing), and recitation of Quran alongside ecstatic dhikr (remembrance of God) and incense burningreuters.comreuters.com. The belief is that the baraka (blessed power) of the Sufi saint will subdue the demon. Apart from shrines, South Asia has legions of roaming or locally stationed peers, fakirs, and aamils (terms for spiritual healers). These individuals perform exorcisms by reading Qur’anic verses, using ijaz (blowing over water or oil to “charge” it with holy power) and by preparing written prayers. A common method is to write Qur’anic verses on paper, dissolve it in water, and have the patient drink itreuters.com. This pani panna or ab-e-shifa (healing water) technique is believed to internally cleanse the victim of evil. Amulets inscribed with Quran or magical formulas are widely used – worn around the neck or arm, or placed under pillows – to ward off jinn. More intense cases might involve the healer interrogating the jinn (speaking through the patient) and threatening it with burning by verses or even beating with a small broom or shoe (a practice in some folk circles to scare the jinn, though mainstream Islamic healers prefer gentler means). Across Pakistan and Bangladesh, many such healers also practice herbal medicine and hakim remedies in tandem with spiritual work, providing a holistic approach to maladies.

Demographics of seekers: South Asians of varied backgrounds seek out exorcism, often as a last resort when conventional solutions fail. Chronic illness, infertility, marital discord, or psychiatric disorders (like schizophrenia or epilepsy) are frequently attributed to jinn or “black magic” by laypeople, especially when doctors cannot find an easy cure. Women form a significant portion of those brought for exorcism – for instance, young women showing erratic or “rebellious” behavior might be suspected of spirit possession or sorcery affliction, and their families may take them to a pir for treatment. A Reuters report from Pakistan describes a college-aged woman, seemingly in a psychotic state, being taken by her family to a Sufi shrine in Karachi because doctors couldn’t help her and they believed an evil spirit was involvedreuters.comreuters.com. Men, too, are clients – one common trope is the businessman whose fortunes have collapsed due to an enemy’s curse, or a husband growing mysteriously impotent due to sorcery. In rural areas and urban slums, low-income and less-educated communities rely heavily on spiritual healers because mental health services and medical clinics are either financially out of reach or stigmatized. However, it’s not only the poor: even educated, professional people in South Asia visit famous healers or shrines. The stigma around mental illness is profound in this region, leading many to interpret conditions like depression or epilepsy as spiritual problems rather than medicalreuters.com. This contributes to a broad social spectrum seeking folk cures. Notably, families will often involve older relatives or community elders in the decision – e.g. a grandmother insisting that a child’s seizures are due to Nazar (evil eye) and pushing for an exorcism, whereas the younger parents might be uncertain. Overall, surveys show very high belief levels: in Bangladesh, 84% of Muslims say jinn existpewresearch.org, and a majority in Pakistan and Afghanistan believe in the evil eye and witchcraft, creating a large base that might turn to exorcists.

Demographics of practitioners: The practitioners in South Asia range from revered Sufi saints and their descendants to self-taught village healers. Many are older men who have built reputations over years. For example, some pirs inherit the role through familial lineage at a shrine (the custodians of a dargah often take on healing roles as part of their service to the saint’s legacy). Others are independent fakirs who travel or settle in towns, known for their ascetic lifestyle and claims of miraculous powers. Religious credentials vary widely. A number of exorcists have formal Islamic education (madrasa graduates or huffaz who know the Quran by heart) and couch their healing entirely in Quranic terms. Others might have little formal schooling but claim a spiritual calling – perhaps a dream or “divine message” prompted them to start healing, as was the case for a Bangladeshi villager Amzad Fakir who suddenly declared himself a healer after a dream and attracted followersthedailystar.net. While most are male, there are a few female faith healers in the subcontinent – often called pirni or bibi sahiba – but they are far less common and usually operate in women’s only contexts. In general, the authority of a practitioner comes either from association with a holy place (like being the gaddi-nashin, or hereditary caretaker, of a saint’s tomb) or from a track record in the community (people attest that his amulets work, his prayers heal). Many healers openly blend the mystical and the practical: they will lead a Quran reading session for exorcism, then also advise the family to perform charity or use certain herbal tonics, covering both spiritual and material bases. There is also a subset of slick, urban “amulya” who advertise in newspapers and now online, describing themselves as love spell casters, curse removers, etc., showing how the practitioner demographic now even includes something akin to entrepreneurs catering to a market.

Economics and entrenched interests: Spiritual healing in South Asia often operates on a donation-based economy, but one that can be highly lucrative. At major Sufi shrines, millions of rupees in donations (Nazrana) are offered annually by devotees seeking the saint’s help. This funds the shrine authorities and the custodians’ families, giving them a strong interest in sustaining the flow of miracle-seekersthedailystar.net. Many pirs accept cash gifts after a healing – it’s couched as an offering “for God” or in honor of the saint, rather than a direct fee, to maintain an aura of piety. Nonetheless, some healers do set specific charges. In Karachi, a traditional exorcist named Syed Aliuddin was charging between 50 and 250 Pakistani rupees per session (about $0.50–$3) for consultations up to 30 minutesreuters.com. He even expanded his business globally by running a website and offering consultations via email and phonereuters.com. This example shows both the relatively low cost (affordable to the masses) and the entrepreneurial adaptation to technology. By contrast, an infamous Bangladeshi pir, Iqbal Chisti, monetized his practice through selling large numbers of amulets and “blessed water” at his nightly gatherings – a “highly profitable business model” according to local observersthedailystar.net. The lack of regulation in this sector means some figures amass great wealth and power. Professor Mokaddem Hossain in Bangladesh noted that many such healers are also landlords or local power-brokers who exploit the devotion of mostly poor followers – in effect, followers work for them or give money in hopes of miraculous curesthedailystar.net. Entrenched economic interests, therefore, are significant: the livelihood of many individuals and even entire communities (around major shrines) depends on these practices continuing. This sometimes results in excesses and abuses – e.g., the aforementioned Amzad Fakir in Bangladesh, aided by local businessmen, set up a “healing center” where he inflicted horrific treatment (hanging babies upside down, trampling patients) under the guise of exorcism until journalists exposed and authorities arrested himthedailystar.netthedailystar.net. Such cases of gross abuse are the exception, but they highlight the absence of oversight and how some “fake fakirs” prey on the vulnerable with impunity until tragedy strikes.

Role of authorities and reform movements: South Asian governments generally tolerate traditional exorcism practices, seeing them as part of cultural-religious life. There is no formal incorporation of exorcists into the healthcare system; however, many state governments manage the large Sufi shrines through auqaf (endowment) boards, indirectly administering hubs of spiritual healing. This official stewardship usually focuses on maintenance and security, not on altering spiritual practices – though there is an underlying tension: for instance, Pakistani authorities have had to increase security because Taliban-aligned militants target shrines as heretical. Major attacks (suicide bombings in 2010–2011) on shrines in Lahore and Dera Ghazi Khan killed dozensreuters.comreuters.com, yet “fears of possession, and life’s many challenges, keep driving people back to the shrines” despite the terrorismreuters.com. This underscores how entrenched and valued these practices are, even under literal threat of death. On the religious reform front, Salafi and Deobandi influences in the region condemn many folk practices (like seeking intercession of saints or using talismans) as shirk (idolatry) or bid‘ah (innovation). These reformists promote a more scriptural form of ruqyah: e.g. in Indian and Pakistani cities, one finds “Islamic healing centers” run by conservative preachers who only allow Quranic recitation and ruqyah shar’iyyah (legal ruqyah), banning amulets or music. Some educated Muslims are swayed by this and avoid the old pirs, opting instead for authorized ruqyah or even trying self-ruqyah at home via YouTube recordings of Quran. State Islam (the official religious authorities) in countries like Bangladesh and Pakistan walks a fine line – they rarely endorse folk exorcisms, but they acknowledge the populace’s belief in the supernatural. The trend in urban areas, especially among younger generations, is slowly toward integrating mental health care (therapy, psychiatry) with spiritual counsel. For example, some imams in cities might work in tandem with psychiatrists – giving the patient ruqyah and also encouraging medical treatment – but this is nascent. By and large, the social and political support for continuation of these practices remains robust: political leaders often seek endorsement from famed pirs during elections (blending politics with popular spirituality), and the community networks around healers act as vote banks. Combined with persistent social needs (stigma of mental illness, lack of medical access), these factors ensure that Islamic exorcism and folk healing will remain a prominent recourse in South Asia for the foreseeable futurereuters.com.

Southeast Asia (Indonesia, Malaysia and beyond)

In Southeast Asia, Islamic exorcism practices reflect a melding of Malay-Indonesian mysticism with orthodox Muslim healing. A commonly invoked term is ruqyah shar’iyyah (legitimate ruqyah) – especially prominent in recent years as a movement promoting Quran-based exorcism in countries like Indonesia and Malaysia. Historically, however, many Muslim communities relied on the dukun/bomoh – indigenous shaman-healers, who might be Muslim but practice a syncretic form of healing. These bomohs use incantations that include Quranic verses mixed with folk rituals (such as spirit negotiations, use of cursed or blessed objects, etc.). For example, a Malay bomoh might recite Ayat Kursi (Quran 2:255) over a bowl of water while also using a bunch of leaves to lightly strike the afflicted, and then give the water to bathe in, combining Quranic and animist techniques. In Java, traditional healers called dukun santet combat witchcraft by both Islamic prayers and Javanese mantras. Methods in this region thus range widely: from straightforward Quran recitation and blowing (the purist ruqyah style) to elaborate rituals. One high-profile ritual was a bomoh in Malaysia who, during the 2014 MH370 airplane disappearance, performed a televised ceremony at an airport, using coconuts and bamboo binoculars to locate the plane supernaturally – replete with Quranic prayers. This caused embarrassment to Malaysian authorities for mixing Islam with blatant superstition. On the other end, Indonesia’s burgeoning ruqyah movement emphasizes exorcism solely by Quran, prayer, and sometimes physical stimuli like hitting the patient with a small broom (sapu lidi) to force the jinn outabc.net.au. Televised ruqyah sessions have become popular entertainment in Indonesia – one national TV show simply titled “Ruqyah” dramatizes live exorcisms of people said to suffer from various spiritual afflictionsabc.net.au. These shows depict standard techniques: an ustadz (cleric) recites verses loudly, sometimes holding the patient’s head or shoulders, while the patient may scream, convulse, or converse in another voice. In some episodes, the healer will sprinkle zamzam water or apply scented oils believed to discomfort jinn. Notably, Southeast Asia also retains pre-Islamic trance rituals in some locales: in parts of Malaysia and southern Thailand, the practice of Main Puteri or kuda kepang involves spirit mediums entering trance to heal illness – Muslims partake in these, though conservative scholars frown on them.

Those seeking exorcism: Belief in spirits and magic is pervasive in Southeast Asian Muslim societies, cutting across rural and urban settings. People commonly attribute misfortunes to santet/sihir (sorcery) or disturbances by jinn. Clients range from villagers afflicted by what they term “tujuan” (sent spirit attacks) to educated city dwellers who fear they are victims of the evil eye. For example, in Indonesia there have been cases of families subjecting their LGBT members to ruqyah, believing their orientation is caused by jinn influenceabc.net.auabc.net.au. This illustrates that even relatively modern social issues get reframed as spiritual maladies. Younger individuals, especially those involved in pesantren (Islamic boarding schools) or campus da’wa groups, might turn to ruqyah movements out of religious conviction – e.g. a college student who experiences depression might suspect a jinn and contact a ruqyah center rather than a psychologist. At the same time, traditional clients like farmers, fishermen, or housewives remain numerous; they may go to a bomoh for issues like unexplained illness in the family, crop failure (blamed on spirits of the land), or to exorcise a haunted house. A Pew survey found that in Thailand’s Muslim south, 48% said they seek help from traditional healers for illness – one of the highest rates in Asiapewresearch.org. In Malaysia and Indonesia, survey numbers were lower (well under half), but anecdotal evidence suggests a significant underground reliance. Many families in these countries quietly keep a list of trusted healers – one for medical problems, one for supernatural problems. Gender-wise, women often are brought for exorcism if they exhibit what families consider supernatural symptoms (hysteria, “unnatural” behavior). There have been instances in Malaysian universities where mass hysteria outbreaks among female students were addressed by bringing in ustaz to perform campus-wide ruqyah. Men seek exorcism too, often for problems like business misfortune, unexplained bad luck, or personal turmoil (some believe a rival or enemy has hexed them). A growing subset of seekers in Southeast Asia are families of autistic or developmentally disabled children, whom some local healers claim to treat by expelling jinn – unfortunately reflecting a gap in understanding of such conditions.

The practitioners and their profiles: Traditional bomohs/dukun are usually older and can be either male or female (though males are more public). They often inherit knowledge through apprenticeship, and incorporate pre-Islamic elements (like spirit familiars, incantations in old Javanese or Malay). In one Indonesian case, a celebrated dukun was also a village imam – illustrating how one person can wear both hats in a community. In contrast, the new wave of ruqyah clerics are typically younger, male, with formal religious schooling or at least training from ruqyah associations. For example, Aris Fathoni of the Ruqyah Association of Indonesia is an Islamic cleric by training and has positioned himself as an expert exorcist, explicitly rejecting the use of any non-Islamic ritualabc.net.au. Practitioners like him often dress in religious attire, quote hadith about healing, and present themselves as “therapists” for both medical or non-medical ailmentsabc.net.au. They sometimes work in teams or clinics – for instance, Malaysia’s Darussyifa’ organization (founded by a prominent Islamic scholar) runs healing clinics where approved practitioners perform ruqyah for the public. There are also freelance ruqyah YouTubers and social media “ustadz” who demonstrate exorcisms online and sell related products (like ruqyah audio CDs or herbal cures). Meanwhile, some bomohs have adapted by adding Islamic veneer to their practice, calling themselves Ustaz or Haji so-and-so and reciting more Quran, to avoid being branded un-Islamic. One interesting category in Indonesia is the celebrity exorcist – individuals who gain fame on TV for their dramatic ruqyah and then attract many clients privately. Southeast Asia thus has a bifurcated practitioner landscape: the shadowy traditional occultists and the more transparent, often reformist, Islamic healers. Tension exists between them; the latter frequently accuse the former of shirk and fraud, whereas the former quietly allege that the young ruqyah men lack the “special gifts” and lineage needed to truly deal with spirits.

Economics and institutional support: The economic aspect of exorcism in Southeast Asia is both commercial and community-based. Many traditional healers charge in cash or kind; a dukun might set a fixed price for a certain ritual, or require the client to fund offerings (like providing a buffalo or goat for a sacrificial ritual if they believe it’s needed to appease a spirit). In Muslim communities, outright animal sacrifice to spirits is rare (to avoid idolatrous connotations), but some syncretic healers still do clandestine offerings. Generally, bomohs/bomor operate as self-employed individuals, and their income can be significant if they have a large following. In Malaysia, it’s not uncommon for a famous bomoh to receive hundreds of ringgit from a single grateful client, or to be on a retainer by businessmen who consult them regularly. The ruqyah practitioners sometimes collect fees as well – some advertise “consultation packages.” Others, particularly those tied to religious NGOs or state Islamic councils, may offer free services, surviving on donations or institutional funding. Governments in the region have a nuanced stance. Malaysia’s government has periodically issued fatwas against bomoh practices when they veer into black magic, and the Islamic authorities have raided and prosecuted a few “sorcerers” under Sharia-based laws (like anti-sorcery enactments in certain states). Yet Malaysia also subtly supports Islamic healing: for example, the Islamic Medical Association and state religious departments have training for ruqyah healers to ensure they stick to approved methods. Indonesia’s government mostly leaves the matter to the Majelis Ulama (Ulema Council) and community. The Ulema Council has declared specific mystical practices forbidden but encourages ruqyah. Some local governments have even leveraged ruqyah for their agenda – as in Padang, West Sumatra, where authorities in 2018 launched a campaign to “rehabilitate” LGBT individuals through mass ruqyah exorcisms, endorsing the conservative belief that jinn cause non-heteronormative behaviorabc.net.auabc.net.au. This shows an institutional use of exorcism as a tool of social control, given its growing mainstream acceptance through TV and media. Indeed, the popularity of exorcism-themed shows (one Indonesian TV program portrayed an Islamic exorcist “curing” a gay man by expelling a female jinnabc.net.auabc.net.au) has lent these practices a veneer of state-sanctioned legitimacy in some contexts. At the same time, secular health officials worry about abuses: there have been instances of patients with treatable mental illnesses kept at exorcism centers instead of getting medical care. Still, entrenched social interests – such as the traditional healer associations and even segments of the religious establishment – advocate for the continuation. In Brunei and Aceh (very conservative Muslim regions), state Islam formally incorporates spiritual healing in the Islamic welfare system, with appointed individuals who can do ruqyah for those who seek it. Globalization and reform strongly influence Southeast Asia: Salafist teachings from the Middle East (via students and the internet) have boosted the ruqyah shar’iyyah trend, which in turn undercuts older shamanistic variants. Conversely, the resilience of folk culture means many continue to seek out bomohs for issues they feel are too “local” or personal for the ruqyah clinics. In summary, Southeast Asia’s Islamic exorcism scene is characterized by a dynamic interplay between old and new – where digital media and religious reform shape contemporary perceptions, yet deep-rooted beliefs in spirits and magic ensure that both modern ruqyah and ancient rituals co-exist.

Central Asia

Central Asia’s experience with Islamic exorcism has been tempered by decades of Soviet secularism, yet traditional practices are re-emerging in the post-Soviet period. Historically, the region (Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, etc.) had folk healers known variously as bakshi or otinchalar (female shrine keepers) who blended Islam with shamanism. They would recite Quranic prayers, but also engage in pre-Islamic rituals like summoning ancestral spirits or using shamanic drums. After the Soviet Union’s collapse, there has been a revival of religion and with it a return of beliefs in jinn and evil eyes that many intellectuals see as “superstitions” previously suppressedasianews.itasianews.it. Today, common terms for exorcism aren’t as standardized as “ruqyah” – people might simply say “jinn chiqarish” (Uzbek for expelling a jinn) or use Russian phrases like “vygnat’ dzhinna.” The methods observed include recitation of Quran (especially Ayat al-Kursi and Surah Yasin) by local mullahs, often coupled with folk techniques like passing the afflicted under the smoke of burnt herbs or frightening the jinn out by startling noises. In mountain villages of Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan, some healers use a whip or tasbih beads to lightly strike around the patient’s body, invoking Sufi saints to intercede. Shrine pilgrimage is another method – for example, a family might take a disturbed person to the mausoleum of a local saint (say, Bahauddin Naqshband in Uzbekistan or Manas Ordo in Kyrgyzstan) and have them stay there seeking a cure. These practices often happen quietly due to a lingering Soviet-influenced skepticism among officials and urban elites.

Who seeks these practices? In Central Asia, those seeking Islamic spiritual healing are often from the older generation or rural areas who held onto folk Islam traditions. For instance, a grandmother in Kazakhstan might insist on taking her grandchild who behaves oddly to a healer rather than a doctor. However, with the religious revival, even some younger people have embraced these ideas. The spread of conservative Islam has actually introduced the notion of jinn possession to some urban youths who previously might have seen it as folklore. Central Asians facing hardships (illness, infertility, business failure) sometimes attribute them to evil spirits or curses and seek out a “molba” (prayer) from a healer. A telling sign of the demand: in Kazakhstan recently, a self-proclaimed exorcist named Kejkuat Ospanov became hugely popular via social media – he performed an exorcism on a 9-year-old girl in a viral video, where he tied her hands and engaged in dialogue with the jinn supposedly possessing herasianews.itasianews.it. Many ordinary Kazakhs found the video convincing and started following him, indicating a significant portion of the population is turning to such practices. Notably, Central Asia also has migrant workers (e.g. Uzbeks, Tajiks in Russia) who, when they encounter misfortunes abroad, may consult spiritual healers from their home country via phone or travel back for exorcismsfssunilorinedu.org. The demographic of seekers is skewed towards those who maintain traditional worldviews – often lower income, rural, or those with limited access to modern healthcare. But with rising religiosity, even well-educated individuals sometimes consider spiritual causes for problems (though they might not publicly admit it).

Practitioners: There are two main kinds of exorcists in Central Asia: informal folk healers and official clergy who dabble in exorcism. The folk healers can be men or women. Some are known as “parikhs” or “jinn-catchers” and often lack formal Islamic training, but claim inherited spiritual knowledge. They may have been underground during Soviet times and resurfaced afterward. On the other hand, certain imams and mosque attendants have started performing ruqyah for people, as was the case with Ospanov in Kazakhstan – he had been a caretaker at a mosque before becoming a freelance exorcistasianews.it. Unlike regions where exorcists are often older, in Central Asia one finds middle-aged or even young practitioners leveraging social media. For example, Ospanov actively tours cities and advertises on Facebook his schedule, even traveling to treat Kazakh diaspora in places like Moldovaasianews.it. This “exorcist influencer” pattern mirrors trends elsewhere. Gender-wise, men predominate in public exorcism roles here; however, elder women still serve as wise-women in villages, giving protective charms or leading prayers for afflicted children. The religious establishment (state-appointed Muftis and imams) generally does not formally recognize any “raqi” specialization – in fact, some imams openly criticize these exorcists as throwbacks to pre-modern timesasianews.itasianews.it. For instance, a Kazakh imam, Altynbek Utyskhanov, commented that these mystical rituals are fueled by people’s nostalgia for old customs and lack any basis in proper Islamasianews.itasianews.it. This indicates a rift between official clergy (many trained in modernized Islam) and grassroots healers.

Economics and societal context: Central Asian societies don’t have the deeply institutionalized shrine economies of South Asia, but a cottage industry of spiritual healing exists. Healers usually take cash offerings for their sessions. In rural areas, payment in sheep or commodities might occur as well. Because these practices were suppressed for a long time, there isn’t a long-standing guild or hierarchy of exorcists; many operate independently. Some, like Ospanov, have become quasi-professional, scheduling clients in different cities and presumably charging eachasianews.it. The viral nature of his work suggests he gets a steady stream of paying customers. One can surmise that as these practices gain popularity, entrenched interests will form – e.g. networks of healers referring clients to each other, or informal patronage by local businessmen who believe in them. Government and intellectual response in Central Asia is largely negative toward the resurgence of exorcism. Kazakh intellectuals have publicly lambasted the trend as a “symptom of social degradation” and a slide back into ignoranceasianews.itasianews.it. The state’s concern also extends to potential harm: after the child exorcism video, Kazakhstan’s Children’s Rights Commissioner launched an investigation into the exorcist and the wellbeing of the girl involvedasianews.it. This indicates authorities are willing to intervene, at least to ensure no abuse is occurring. However, outright banning spiritual healing is unlikely – instead, the approach is to shame and educate. Governments promote scientific education and healthcare as the proper routes; for example, commentators in Kazakhstan noted the nation once prided in producing engineers and doctors, and warned that ultra-conservatives are dragging people back to darknessasianews.it. Despite this elite opposition, the reality is that as Islam revives, many average Central Asians are more openly embracing beliefs in jinn (in Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan, around 20–25% believe in witchcraft, and higher for evil eye, per surveyspewresearch.orgpewresearch.org). Reformist Islamic movements have a foothold too – some urban young Muslims who follow Salafism or the Nurcu movement might conduct low-key Quranic healings among their circles, rejecting the folk healers. The contest here is between scientific secular outlook, folk-Islamic tradition, and reformist Islam. Each has different attitudes toward exorcism, and thus far they coexist uneasily. In summary, Central Asia’s Islamic exorcism practices are reappearing after a hiatus, fueled by renewed faith and social stress, but face skepticism from the modern state. It’s a region where one can see an exorcist broadcasting on Facebook to thousands of eager viewers while, simultaneously, critics decry the event as national embarrassmentasianews.it – underscoring the divide in perception within the society itself.

Europe (Diaspora Communities)

In Europe, Islamic exorcism practices have been transplanted and adapted by Muslim diaspora populations from Asia, the Middle East, and Africa. These communities maintain beliefs in jinn, evil eye, and magic, and thus the demand for ruqyah and similar remedies persists even in the Western context. Among British Muslims, for example, it’s not uncommon for a family facing unexplained misfortunes or a member’s erratic behavior to consult a raqi (exorcist). The practices used mirror those of the home countries: Quran recitations over the afflicted, giving them ruqyah water to drink, and destroying suspected magic talismans. One UK-based raqi named Abu Tharr has gained renown by performing live exorcisms on social media – during his sessions (often streamed on Facebook), he recites Quran while unseen clients scream or speak in altered voices in the backgroundpulitzercenter.orgpulitzercenter.org. His most viewed video, reportedly, was an exorcism of a “Jewish jinn” with over 7.8 million viewspulitzercenter.org. This exemplifies how digital media has given European Muslims access to exorcism services and content transnationally. Abu Tharr’s clientele spans multiple countries and is largely South Asian in origin (Pakistanis, Indians, etc.), highlighting that diaspora from high-belief regions carry those practices with thempulitzercenter.org. Similarly, Somalis in Europe continue to seek out sheikhs for ruqyah; North African communities in France or Belgium might invite an imam or even fly in a known marabout from back home to resolve persistent jinn issues.

Demographics of seekers: The primary seekers are first-generation immigrants and their families, who maintain the cultural-religious worldview that jinn can cause illness or misfortune. If a family in London of Pakistani background believes their child’s schizophrenia is actually a jinn possession, they may quietly arrange a session with an Islamic healer rather than solely relying on the NHS mental health services. However, second-generation European Muslims are also involved to a degree – many are bilingual in the discourse of both psychiatry and spiritual healing. For example, a young British Muslim might see a therapist for depression but also play ruqyah verses at night to ward off evil spirits, or encourage a parent to see an imam. Notably, women in diaspora communities often are taken for exorcism if they exhibit what the family interprets as spiritual affliction (similar to back home, this could be anything from not getting marriage proposals – blamed on a jinn or curse – to post-partum depression interpreted as possession). Men, especially those struggling with addiction or violent behavior, can also be subjects of exorcism attempts by families hoping a spiritual cure will succeed where other interventions failed. Socio-economically, it varies: working-class immigrant communities may lean more on community healers due to mistrust of Western medicine or lack of culturally competent care, whereas some middle-class families might initially try medical routes but still keep spiritual options open. A key factor is the stigma of mental illness and personal problems – similar to other regions, many European Muslims prefer framing an issue as a jinn problem (which carries less personal blame) rather than as a psychiatric one. This has been observed in the UK, where Muslim immigrants are reluctant to seek clinical help for psychological distress, often making faith healers like Abu Tharr “their first and only port of call”pulitzercenter.org. Indeed, studies in Britain have shown disproportionately low usage of mental health services by Muslims, correlating with higher reliance on religious coping mechanisms.

Practitioners in Europe: The practitioners in Europe’s Muslim diaspora are a mix of local imams, specialized healers, and Islamic therapy hybrids. Many mosques have an imam or elder who is reputed to handle jinn cases – these are not officially advertised roles, but word spreads in the community. Additionally, full-time raqi practitioners have sprung up in cities with large Muslim populations (London, Birmingham, Paris, Berlin, etc.). These individuals often operate out of modest offices or even their home, and advertise through community boards or online forums. They might have some religious training, or simply community endorsement as someone “who knows about these things.” As mentioned, some have embraced social media branding (the term “Jinnfluencers” has even been coined for those who gather large followings by demonstrating exorcisms onlinepulitzercenter.orgpulitzercenter.org). While most practitioners are male, there are a few female healers in Europe catering to women clients who may feel uncomfortable with a male exorcist. For example, in some Turkish or Arab communities in Germany, an older “auntie” who knows folk remedies might be called to quietly perform a cleansing ritual for a young woman. Another category is Muslim mental-health professionals who incorporate ruqyah in treatment. In the UK and France, a handful of psychologists or counselors of Muslim background collaborate with imams, exploring integrated approaches – though this is a small trend, it indicates a professionalization of the practice in a new form.

Economics: Islamic exorcism in Europe frequently runs on a fee-for-service model, with significant variation. Some mosque-based healings are free or ask only for discretionary donations. In contrast, independent raqis often set fixed fees. Abu Tharr in the UK, for instance, charges about £70 ($95) per session for an exorcism, which he conducts either in person or virtuallypulitzercenter.org. Others may charge much more, especially if they are known to be “specialists” or willing to travel for a house call. There have been instances of exploitation: community advocates in the UK have warned that some spiritual healers (usually male) abuse their position, charging exorbitant sums or even exploiting women under the guise of treatmentmoroccoworldnews.commoroccoworldnews.com. A report submitted to the UK Parliament noted an increase in abuse by spiritual healers in the Muslim community, citing cases of financial and sexual misconduct by self-styled exorcists taking advantage of vulnerable womencommittees.parliament.uk. This has led to calls for some form of oversight or at least community awareness. Importantly, because European countries have consumer protection and assault laws, a healer who commits clear fraud or harm can face legal consequences. For example, in 2018 a UK court jailed a self-proclaimed exorcist (an educated doctor by training) for physically harming his partner during a series of “exorcism” ritualstheguardian.com. Such cases, while rare, highlight that in Europe the legal system can and will intervene if exorcism crosses into abuse. On the other hand, the vast majority of these practices remain in the private sphere of community life and transactions are in cash, unregulated.

Institutional response and integration: European governments and health institutions have gradually become aware of these practices. Child protection agencies in Britain have highlighted the risk of abuse linked to witchcraft or possession beliefs, as some children have been harmed or even killed by relatives attempting exorcisms (this concern often lumps Islamic exorcism with African Christian or witchcraft practices under a broad category)the-independent.com. Thus, social workers are now trained to recognize signs that a child is being subjected to a “spiritual deliverance” ritual and to intervene if necessary. For instance, if a teacher hears a child say they had the devil beaten out of them over the weekend, it triggers safeguarding procedures. At the same time, health services are trying a cooperative approach: in places like the Netherlands and the UK, there have been outreach programs to engage imams in mental health referral. Imams and community leaders are educated about mental illness so they can refer cases to professionals rather than solely performing ruqyahstartribune.comstartribune.com. In the U.S. and UK, conferences on Muslim mental health often include discussions on distinguishing jinn possession from psychiatric disorders and the possibility of collaboration – some imams now say openly that persistent problems should be treated by doctors, with ruqyah as a supportive measure. European Muslim reform movements also influence perceptions: Salafi-oriented communities strongly believe in jinn and actively practice ruqyah (they produce many of the online ruqyah audio files and literature), but they also condemn any non-Quranic folk practice. More liberal or integrationist Muslims might privately believe in jinn but hesitate to use exorcism, preferring to lean on medical science; however, they rarely speak out against others doing it, since it’s a sensitive cultural matter. In terms of entrenched support, it’s not so much political or economic interests in Europe, but rather social networks and needs that keep these practices going. The family and community bonds in diaspora mean word-of-mouth about a successful exorcism spreads quickly, reinforcing demand. And because many feel that Western society doesn’t fully understand their worldview, they support parallel systems like faith healing as a way to address problems the mainstream may not solve. In summary, Islamic exorcism in Europe exists in a kind of quiet parallel to formal systems – largely unregulated but increasingly noticed. It highlights a global pattern: even in a modern, secular context, age-old spiritual practices adapt (utilizing Facebook, operating under fee structures) to continue serving the needs of believers.

The Americas (North & South America)

In North America, Islamic exorcism practices are present primarily within immigrant Muslim communities and to a lesser extent among convert communities. The patterns are similar to Europe’s, though the Muslim population in the U.S. and Canada is smaller and more geographically dispersed. Many Muslim Americans, especially first-generation immigrants from the Middle East, South Asia, or Africa, hold beliefs in jinn and the evil eye. They often bring with them the healing-seeking behaviors of their homelands. For example, Somali-American communities (like in Minnesota) have a significant number of members who attribute mental health issues to jinn or cursesstartribune.com. Common practices include reciting Quran over the afflicted, ruqyah water, wearing amulets (though this last is more controversial in purist circles) and even “pressure exorcisms” – cases have been noted where families perform coercive rituals (like forced drinking of concoctions or restraint) on a relative believed to be possessed. However, there is a growing recognition among Muslim Americans of the need to balance spiritual and medical approaches.

Demographics of those seeking exorcism in the Americas: The typical demographic is again immigrant families who maintain traditional beliefs. Refugee groups (e.g., Somali, Afghan, Iraqi refugees) often come from regions where war and trauma are rife, and where spiritual healing was a primary resource. Studies show extremely high prevalence of PTSD and depression in such groups, with 80–90% of Somalis with mental health problems not accessing formal carepmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.govstartribune.com. Instead, many turn to community and faith solutions. In cities like Minneapolis or Toronto, if a young man from a refugee family has a psychotic break, it’s likely his family might first try prayers and ruqyah by an imam or healer. Women in diaspora communities (e.g., a South Asian housewife in New York or a Maghrebi mother in Montreal) also might resort to exorcism if they feel a string of bad luck or ailments is due to spiritual causes. There’s also a phenomenon in the U.S. of convert Muslim communities (including African American Muslims) who sometimes adopt the broader Muslim belief in jinn. Some African American Muslims have syncretic influences from the black church or African traditions and might be open to ruqyah as analogous to Christian deliverance. Overall, though, the practice is not mainstream among all American Muslims – many second-generation American Muslims are skeptical of exorcism or see it as something “our parents or grandparents did.” That said, even they may quietly acquiesce when older relatives insist on seeking a spiritual solution for a family problem, out of respect and “just in case it helps.”

Practitioners in the Americas: They can be grouped into community imams, faith healers, and clinicians bridging practices. Community imams often serve as the first point of contact – American mosques frequently get requests from congregants to help “read Quran” on a troubled family member. Some imams have become adept at basic ruqyah; others feel uncomfortable and refer out. In places with larger communities, there are specialized healers – e.g., in Paterson, New Jersey (with a big Arab community) or in Houston’s South Asian community, specific individuals are known to perform exorcisms. They might be immigrants themselves who had a reputation back home or someone who learned from an elder here. There are also cases of intercontinental consultations: families in the U.S. sometimes arrange for a famous pir or raqi from “back home” to visit during a tour or even consult over Skype/Zoom for a difficult case. As Muslim communities establish roots, some have formed official Ruqyah centers or services. For example, there are U.S. websites and helplines where people can contact certified ruqyah practitioners (often aligned with Salafi interpretations). Additionally, the American Muslim healthcare community is increasingly involved. Pioneering Muslim psychiatrists and psychologists host annual conferences (like at Michigan State University) to discuss issues such as jinn possession vs mental illnessstartribune.com. They invite imams, acknowledging that “when Muslims face problems, the first place they come is the mosque”startribune.com. These efforts have led some imams to become more educated about mental health while still performing their spiritual role. For instance, a group of Somali-American imams in Minneapolis now meet monthly with mental health professionals to learn to distinguish mental illness from alleged possession, and to refer serious cases to therapistsstartribune.comstartribune.com. This collaborative model effectively turns the imams into a kind of practitioner who combines ruqyah reading with the knowledge of when to call a doctor – a unique adaptation in the diaspora.

Economic and institutional aspects: As in Europe, most Islamic exorcism activities in North America are not formally regulated or monetized in a big way. Many imams do ruqyah as part of pastoral care, without extra charge. Independent healers may ask for donations or modest fees. However, there have been reports in the U.S. of “healings” that cost hundreds of dollars – essentially scams exploiting immigrant families. Media and law enforcement have sometimes intervened: for example, there have been sting operations against so-called “shaykhs” promising to lift curses for large sums (these are rarer and tend to be prosecuted under fraud if they come to attention). The role of government is mostly indirect – by promoting mental health literacy in immigrant communities. Culturally specific clinics (e.g., CAIR in California working with imams, or community health centers for Arab-Americans in Michigan) often include outreach that respects religious practices but warns against abuse. If an exorcism rite leads to physical harm, child endangerment or psychological trauma, American authorities will treat it as they would any form of abuse. For instance, there have been tragic cases (in both the U.S. and Canada) of children dying during crude exorcism attempts by family; those result in criminal charges unrelated to religion (manslaughter, child abuse). But such extreme incidents are thankfully very rare. Local Muslim institutions like mosque boards or national Islamic organizations don’t officially endorse exorcisms, but they also don’t openly oppose them. They recognize many constituents believe in it, so the approach has been to ensure it is done in a safe and Islamically permissible manner, rather than to eradicate it. Entrenched interests are less visible in America – there isn’t an economic class of pirs as in South Asia, nor marabout-politicians as in Africa. The main “interest” group supporting continuation is the conservative religious segment (e.g., Salafi communities) who actively teach about jinn and ruqyah as part of their religious life, and also the older generation immigrants who hold onto these cultural practices. Globalization means diaspora Muslims can easily access books, websites, and fatwas from scholars abroad about exorcism, thus reinforcing their convictions. At the same time, being in a pluralistic society has exposed many to alternative explanations (like mental health frameworks) and to skepticism; this has somewhat moderated the most extreme practices. In sum, in the Americas Islamic exorcism exists mostly within immigrant cultural enclaves, practiced quietly and adapted to the law – it reflects global Islamic traditions but is slowly being reframed, with imams and doctors sometimes teaming up to address the issue in a more holistic waystartribune.comstartribune.com.

Global Trends, Influences, and Divergences

Across all these regions, several global patterns emerge in Islamic exorcism practices:

• Pervasiveness of Belief: Belief in jinn, the evil eye, and magic is widespread in Muslim communities worldwide, forming the backbone of demand for exorcism. Pew Research data highlights this: majorities in many countries affirm the existence of these supernatural forces, from 55% of Pakistani Muslims who believe in sorcery to 80% of Moroccans who fear the evil eyepewresearch.orgpewresearch.org. Consequently, seeking a spiritual remedy is a common impulse when misfortune strikes, regardless of geography. In sub-Saharan Africa and South Asia, especially, reliance on traditional religious healers is very common (often over 50% of people), whereas in Europe, Central Asia and North America the rates are lower but significant pockets remainpewresearch.orgpewresearch.org.
• Core Methods: Despite local variations, the fundamental method of Quranic recitation as exorcism is universal. From Cairo to California, the afflicted are often treated by reciting passages like Al-Falaq and An-Nas over themmoroccoworldnews.com, a practice traced to Prophet Muhammad’s own teachingsmoroccoworldnews.com. The use of holy water or oil, prayer-blowing (nafas), and written talismans is also widespreadreuters.com. Additionally, a surprising number of traditions independently employ some form of physical encouragement – gentle beating, broom whisking, or restraint – to pressure the jinn (e.g., beating the possessed in Nigeriajisc.thebrpi.org, hitting with a broom in Indonesiaabc.net.au, or tying with ropes in South Asian shrinesreuters.com). These echo each other, revealing a cross-cultural logic that combines spiritual and physical tactics to expel entities.
• Practitioner Roles and Gender: In most regions, men dominate the formal role of “exorcist” or raqi, especially under orthodox Islamic frameworks. However, the role of women is prominent in many folk and community contexts – e.g., female Zar leaders in Egyptfolklife.si.edu, women-led Zar and Bori rituals in Africascoopempire.com, and elder women dispensing folk remedies in diaspora communities. Thus, while the public face of Islamic exorcism (the imam or sheikh reciting Quran) is often male, there exists a parallel female-centric healing tradition in multiple cultures. Both tend to command respect in their spheres.
• Clients and Social Factors: A common thread globally is that those seeking exorcism often do so as a culturally acceptable solution to personal or health crises. Across societies, stigma around mental illness or social problems pushes people toward spiritual healers. We see this in Pakistan (“heavy stigma…many see spiritual healing as the only option”reuters.com), in Somali diaspora (“people comfortable talking to imam, not wanting to be labeled crazy”startribune.com), and elsewhere. Additionally, women’s issues (infertility, marital discord, behavioral concerns) frequently surface in exorcism narratives from Africa to South Asia, indicating a global pattern where women’s suffering is sometimes externalized as spirit attack, and addressed in communal spiritual rituals. Socio-economic hardship and weak healthcare systems are another universal driver – where the state or science doesn’t adequately reach, spiritual solutions fill the gap.
• Economic Continuity and Change: Traditional models of gifting and donation for healers are found everywhere, but there is also a trend of monetization and commercialization. In various countries, what was once considered a pious service is now sometimes a paid profession – be it Moroccan raqis charging per sessionmoroccoworldnews.com, Bangladeshi fakirs selling amulets as a businessthedailystar.net, or British exorcists taking credit card payments via websites. This commercialization has drawn criticism within communities (for example, Moroccan officials decrying ruqyah for profitmoroccoworldnews.commoroccoworldnews.com), yet it persists because demand is steady and often urgent. There’s also a transnational flow of money: diaspora communities send funds home or bring healers abroad, and popular healers travel on “spiritual tours” (as seen with the Kazakh healer touring citiesasianews.it).
• Role of Authorities: Generally, official religious bodies endorse scripturally-grounded exorcism (ruqyah) but condemn syncretic or exploitative elements. Governments largely adopt a hands-off approach unless public safety is at stake (cases of abuse, fraud, or security issues like militant attacks on shrines). In recent times, some governments and NGOs actively involve religious leaders to mitigate potential harms – e.g., training imams in mental health in the U.S.startribune.com, or ministers in Morocco debating regulation of healersmoroccoworldnews.commoroccoworldnews.com. There are also instances of states co-opting exorcism for political aims, as in Indonesia’s Padang initiative against LGBT via ruqyahabc.net.au. This shows that while not an official part of “State Islam,” exorcism practices are significant enough that authorities cannot ignore them and sometimes leverage or constrain them as needed.
• Reformist vs. Folk Islam Influence: A significant divergence in how exorcism is practiced and perceived comes from the influence of Islamic reform movements. Salafism and similar reformist trends have worked to purify exorcism practices, stripping away folk customs (no music, no intercession of saints, no dubious amulets) and focusing solely on Quran and sunnah methods. This has made exorcism “shari’a-compliant” and arguably increased its acceptability among strictly religious circles (for instance, ruqyah associations in Indonesia and online fatwa sites endorsing jinn expulsion by Quran). On the other side, Sufi orders and folk practitioners preserve the older, syncretic rituals and often face accusations of un-Islamic behavior. In many countries, there is a tension between these approaches – sometimes even open conflict (militants bombing shrines, or Salafi preachers denouncing famous pirs). Yet, interestingly, both reformist and traditionalist camps ensure that belief in jinn affliction stays alive (either in a “pure” form or a blended form). The reformists may oppose folk practices, but they absolutely affirm that jinn possessions are real and ruqyah is necessary. Thus, in different flavors, the practice goes on.
• Globalization and Digital Media: Perhaps the most dramatic modern influence is the role of global connectivity. The rise of the internet, social media, and mass migration has globalized Islamic exorcism in multiple ways. People can now easily access exorcism content and services online – from YouTube videos of ruqyah (used by some to self-treat by playing them at home) to Facebook Live sessions of exorcists interacting with international audiencespulitzercenter.orgpulitzercenter.org. This has led to personalities like Abu Tharr, who cater to a dispersed diaspora and have followers across continents. Digital media also allows for the cross-pollination of techniques (a villager in Mali might learn of a new Quranic verse to use via a radio program, or a youth in France might watch an Indonesian ruqyah TV show and be inspired). Migration means that practices from one region pop up in another – e.g., West African marabouts practicing in Parismossdreams.blogspot.com, South Asian healers touring North America, or Arab exorcists in London dealing with Somali and South Asian jinn casespmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov. Moreover, global discourse about mental health and human rights exerts influence: diaspora communities are increasingly exposed to psychological interpretations of phenomena and to warnings about abusive practices, leading to some internal reforms (like integrating clinical referrals, as seen with Minneapolis imamsstartribune.com). At the same time, the internet can reinforce belief by creating echo chambers of those sharing jinn encounter stories and remedies.
• Local Divergences: Despite globalization, there remain notable divergences. Regional terminologies and rituals differ – e.g., a Zar drumming ceremony would look alien to a Bangladeshi pir, and a Saudi Salafi raqi’s bare-bones approach differs from a Senegalese marabout’s elaborate incense and charm routine. The social acceptance also diverges: in some societies, visiting exorcists is very common and openly done (parts of West Africa, rural South Asia), whereas in others it’s more private and even stigmatized (Central Asian cities, Western diaspora where one might hide it from non-Muslim peers). Additionally, entrenched interest structures differ: South Asia has shrine institutions, Africa has marabout networks, while Western contexts have more individual practitioners without broad social backing. These divergences mean that while the underlying belief system is shared, the cultural expression of exorcism is highly localized.

In conclusion, Islamic exorcism practices around the world demonstrate a dynamic interplay of continuity and change. On one hand, the core belief in unseen spirits (jinn) causing harm and the core cure of invoking divine words unite Muslims from Morocco to Malaysia in an ancient healing traditionpewresearch.org. On the other hand, local cultures color these practices with unique names, tools, and socio-economic patterns – from the women-led Zar chants of North Africa to the televised ruqyah spectacles of Indonesiaabc.net.au. Globally, these practices persist because they address deep-seated human concerns (health, misfortune, psychological distress) in a context that aligns with believers’ worldviews. They are supported by entrenched social structures and interests, yet also face challenges from modernization, reformist theology, and secular authority. The result is an evolving landscape: exorcism in Islam is at once highly traditional – drawing on scripture and centuries of folklore – and strikingly contemporary, with exorcists now live-streaming on smartphones and negotiating their place in modern healthcare. The persistence of these practices underscores patterns of continuity (faith and fear transcend borders) and divergence (each region adapts the ritual to its cultural milieu). As globalization continues, we may see further cross-regional exchanges and perhaps a gradual convergence in methods (with the “internet standard” ruqyah becoming more dominant), but the rich diversity and strong community roots of Islamic spiritual healing ensure that global uniformity is unlikely. Instead, Islamic exorcism will remain a global phenomenon of many faces, unified by belief, diversified by culture – a practice supported by both the spiritual economy and the heartfelt needs of communities to find meaning and hope in the unseenmoroccoworldnews.compewresearch.org.

Sources:

• Pew Research Center, “Muslim Beliefs in the Supernatural and Related Practices,” Aug. 2012 – statistical data on prevalence of belief in witchcraft, evil eye, use of healers, and witnessing exorcisms across regionspewresearch.orgpewresearch.org.
• Morocco World News, “Ruqyah: Are Rakis Islamic Exorcists or Spiritual Opportunists?” (Dec. 31, 2018) – description of ruqyah practice in Morocco, official concerns over its commercialization and abusemoroccoworldnews.commoroccoworldnews.com.
• Reuters (Rebecca Conway), “Troubled Pakistanis turn to exorcism for help,” (Dec. 20, 2011) – on Sufi shrine exorcisms in Pakistan, reasons people choose spiritual healing over medicine, and examples of methods and chargesreuters.comreuters.com.
• The Daily Star (Bangladesh), “The Fake Healers,” Star Weekend Magazine (April 2010) – investigative piece on spiritual healers in Bangladesh, detailing their methods (nazr offerings, amulets, placebo effects) and exploitation of followersthedailystar.netthedailystar.net.
• ABC News (Australia), “Islamic exorcisms used as conversion therapy as Indonesian city moves against LGBT,” (Dec. 5, 2018) – reports on ruqyah in Indonesia, including televised exorcisms, use of broom beating, and governmental endorsement in Padangabc.net.auabc.net.au.
• AsiaNews, “Kazakh Islam and the return of Jinn superstitions,” by Vladimir Rozanskij (Jan. 15, 2025) – describes a viral exorcism in Kazakhstan, public debate over it, and how a healer tours cities for sessionsasianews.itasianews.it.
• Pulitzer Center (Alizeh Kohari), “Jinnfluencers: Inside the World of Internet Exorcisms,” (Feb. 11, 2021) – insight into online exorcists with global followings (e.g. UK’s Abu Tharr), including their methods, clientele demographics, and feespulitzercenter.orgpulitzercenter.org.
• Star Tribune (Mila Koumpilova), “Somali-American imams fight stigma of mental illness,” (March 7, 2015) – example of diaspora imams in the U.S. learning to balance ruqyah with mental health referrals, and noting that many Somalis first try jinn exorcism and some healers charge high feesstartribune.comstartribune.com.
• Folklife (Smithsonian) Magazine, “The Zar: Staging an Egyptian Exorcism,” (Feb. 1, 2017) – background on the Zar ritual in Egypt, its musical method and social perception as a folk/“backwards” practice despite its continued existencefolklife.si.edufolklife.si.edu.
• Jimoh, Shaykh Luqman. “Exorcism Practices in South-West Nigeria: A Comparative Analysis,” Journal of Islamic Studies and Culture, vol.2 no.3 (2014) – academic study detailing Yoruba Muslim exorcists’ training, diagnostic techniques, and blended methods with traditional healingjisc.thebrpi.orgjisc.thebrpi.org.