Revisiting "Kulam" (Malign Magic)
Exploring a dark yet fascinating aspect of Philippine culture
When a person gets a mysterious illness, the folk healer might identify it as kulam, or in worse cases, barang. The victim had probably offended someone, and in revenge, magic was done with harmful intentions. There are many cases, even today, of people believing that they were victims of kulam—only to find out later on that they just had a rare disease. Regardless of how it manifests, the meaning-making behind this phenomenon is that one had been the victim of kulam, a form of malign magic with the express intention to hurt another.
Some Cases of Suspected Kulam
A case in 2018 involved a 31-year old man who claimed to have been the victim of kulam after breaking up with his then girlfriend. He had difficulty getting up, his skin was peeling, and his fingers were twisted. It was later found out that he had psoriasis. Here is the report:
However, certain mysterious occurrences that evade explanation have also been reported. One such occurrence was in 2012, when a woman in Leyte was said to be suffering from kulam: needles were coming out of her body. Exorcists were consulted, but they were unable to make a conclusion, and even doubted the truth of the case. They did, however, advise victims of kulam to reach out for psychological help or approach the church when mental health professionals can no longer explain what is happening.
Psychologically speaking, kulam may very well be the unique intersection of somatized guilt and medical coincidence. Whether or not there are actual “magical” forces depends on one’s belief, but if “reality” is our interpretation of the world through our interaction with it (in the same way that we see colors when light hits our eyes), then we can say, at least on a psychological level, that kulam is “real.”
Perspectives of Practitioners
When I traveled to Silay in March 2024, I spoke to a surwano. She called anything harmful as halit, which is a word that refers to unfortunate events (such as disaster). I asked her whether halit is the same as kulam or barang. She said yes, but it doesn’t matter what it’s called. It’s very much like if we referred to hex, curse, and jinx as “Bad Stuff,” in quite the same way that a person with a fever, a person with a cough, and a person with a stomachache will all say that they are “Sick.”
Local folk practitioners who have practiced for decades, whose traditions have been passed on for generations, do still use the term “kulam” to refer to magic done with harmful intentions. An early definition, from Ferdinand Blumentritt’s 1895 book Diccionario Mitologico de Filipinas (Dictionary of Filipino Mythology), defines the “mangkukulam” (i.e. the person who does kulam) as someone who uses a doll to hurt others. (However, as compiled by Nid Anima in Witchcraft, Filipino Style, we know that there are many variations of local practice.) We tend to translate kulam as “witchcraft,” but as occult writer Jaime T. Licauco pointed out, “witchcraft” is a foreign practice that carries with it foreign connotations.1 Following Richard Lieban, the word “sorcery” has been used as an alternative. One imagines the (western) witch as the somewhat sexist, Halloween image of the grotesque hag with the boiling cauldron, pointy hat, and ridiculous cackle—but locally, the mangkukulam is just another practitioner of folk magic like the surwano, an affable and most of the time charismatic man-on-the-street, probably seen in loose, casual clothing walking around the mall. In any case, folk practitioners have never denied that they have used magic to both help and harm, as a form of vigilante justice.2
Magic, in its most meaningful and psychologically potent form, is a very important social tool. It’s a way for the individual and community to participate in the creative and destructive aspects of the universe. Regardless of whether or not scientific research can empirically confirm the effects of it, its use is of cultural, psychological, and social importance.
More Resources
Jaime Licauco, Do you believe in ‘kulam’? 2019
Bea Misa-Crisostomo, Strange brew, 2016.