Why your world needed exorcists
In the previous articles of this series we have been through the aromas of war, the perfumes of childbirth, the fragrances that accompanied the king and the dead. In all these routes, one element appeared persistently: the mesopotamic conviction that the world was densely inhabited by forces that humans could attract, offend, misinterpret and, with the right knowledge, negotiate.
For the inhabitants of Mesopotamia, reality was a text. Everything —the movement of the planets, the flight of a bird on the roof, the shape of the liver of a sacrificed lamb, the appearance of a cat that was mailling without stopping on the ladder— It was information. The gods "wrote" their decisions in nature (the term "acadio" is šaņāru, "inscribing"), and the specialists trained to read them existed precisely for that: to translate that text into the language of human action. When the message was unfavourable, not to stand by was a religious and practical obligation.
This cosmovence explains the existence of the corpus that we are dealing with today: the āšipūtu, literally "the knowledge of the exorcist." This is the set of ritual texts composed and executed by the specialists known as āšipu (also called mašmašu), whose first documented incantations date from around 2500 BC —pre-sargonic period— and whose tradition remained alive until the Seleucide periods and childbirth, that is, until approximately 50 A.D. More than two thousand five hundred years of continuous practice.
The āšipu occupied a privileged position in the royal court and in the hierarchy of the temple. Its function was multiple: to expel evil in its different forms —demons, spells, angry ghosts, divine curses—, purify the patient and establish lasting protection. The great gods of his trade were Enki-Ea (the god of wisdom and exorcism), Asallu‐ i-Marduk (the divine exorcist par excellence) and Utu-Šamaš (the solar god, judge of the cosmos). The entire architecture of the mesopotamic universe was involved in its rituals: the starry sky, the underground ocean (apsù), the river, the fire, and the supernatural guardians known as apkallu.
Why so many rituals? The answer is in fear, uncertainty and the very structure of mesopotamic thought. In an environment of unpredictable floods, droughts, epidemics and war conflicts, ritual was the available method of managing risk: it gave language to misfortune, grammar to response, and —something that modern scholars increasingly emphasize— real psychological relief to the people who went through it. The researcher Stefan Maul described the namburbù rituals as Zukunftsbewältigung's techniques: "management of the future." The expression can be applied to the whole of the āšipūtu.
A fact that should be kept in mind before entering the specific rituals: the āšipu was a professional with rigorous technical training. There was a curriculum, the so-called "Manual of Exorcist" (KAR 44), which specified which texts should be known and in which order. His interventions combined what we would now separate in different fields: diagnosis (through signs and presagies), theological interpretation (to identify what divine or demoniac force he acted), and ritual execution (to proceed according to the canonical texts). The doctor (asù) and the exorcist (āšipu) often collaborated in the treatment of the same patient.
The following are the nine main rituals of the corpus āšipūtu. Each has its own logic, materials, protagonists and aromas.


