Burjats Hoimorin Högshin’s Spririt Birth. To keep their cattle hydrated during the winter, the Buryats would carve holes in the ice of the Ingedei River. Observing a woman dressed in a red vest and blue degel emerge from one of the holes, a herdsman observed her strolling down the riverbank one morning. Shortly after, a different guy observed the identical woman returning to the ice crevasse. For several mornings, the two guys remained hidden and observed her as she entered and exited the river.

Eventually, the Mangaduud heard about the unusual woman from the settlers. They observed the mother and her child emerge from the Ingedei through one of the openings they had peered into. They apprehended and imprisoned the duo. But the mother and kid vanished from the jail cell after a few days.

The Ingedei Buryats went without procreation for the subsequent three years. As part of their communal shamanic ritual, they sought guidance from the spirits to determine why they were no longer reproducing. They were informed that the Higan Tengri, a goddess associated with battle and soldiers, had sent a female deity to the oppressed Buryats to ensure their fertility and welfare while they were living under Russian rule. As a result of her hurt feelings, the couple stopped having children. The Buryats have revered Hoimorin Högshin ever since, praying to her to shield their children from harm

Burjats Hoimorin Högshin's Spririts Birth. To keep their cattle hydrated during the winter, the Buryats would carve holes in the ice of the Ingedei River

As a result of her ability to safeguard youngsters, the goddess in this tale prevents the Buryats from forgetting a piece of their history. She played an essential part in Buryat history, just like real individuals did, according to Chakrabarty (2000). A vehicle for historical memory is Hoimorin Högshin. People who have lost loved ones in drowning in the Ingedei River are believed to have to placate their Hoimorin Högshin, since their tragedy is a sign of the goddess’s curse or anger, due to the river’s reputation as her birthplace.

In the story, oppressors are mentioned near the Ingedei River, which flows through eastern Transbaikalia near the Mongolian border and distant from Lake Baikal. Therefore, the Russian empire must have already established its rule over Transbaikalia when this story emerged. The Buryats shifted their resistance tactics from guerrilla warfare against the Cossacks and Khamnigans to dealing with and understanding the Russian authorities and learning to live with colonial newcomers.13 Because of the high mortality rate among Buryats under colonial rule, the people need a god of fertility in addition to a god of battle to help them recover.

The police force, the deity’s monitoring, capture, and incarceration all stand in for the imperial Russian authority. Arresting a mother and her kid without providing her with a fair trial or even stating the specific charges against her is a blatant act of tyranny. Surprisingly, the Buryats are the ones who have to deal with the fallout of Hoimorin Högshin’s incarceration, even if he is a symbol of resistance to the Russians. Why does Hoimorin Högshin punish the Buryats rather than get revenge on the Russians for their mistreatment of her?

Not the Russian empire, but Hoimorin Högshin is said to have the authority to punish and regulate the Buryats’ reproduction in this place. In doing so, the Buryats symbolically absorb the tyrannical Russian imperial authority and infuse it into Hoimorin Högshin. Neither the supernatural nor the Russian colonial authority extend beyond the confines of prisons and police stations.

Power is included in representation, according to the Buryats and other Mongols. Because of the power that representation has to spark an object’s effect, its frequency and scope must be carefully managed. The Buryats avoid internalizing their oppression and making it deeper, more subconscious, and more naturalized by minimizing portrayal of their invaders. This prevents their “legitimation and hegemony in the form of a fetish”.

On the contrary, they somberly detail the oppressors’ power structures while fetishizing their shamanic deities, like Hoimorin Högshin, through various forms of material and verbal representation, including figurines, accessories, clothing, poetic evocations, and the act of swaddling and cradling—and, more specifically, by attributing to her the ability to punish. Representing something intricately demonstrates its strength and authority explains via his analysis of Cuna chants that had previously been investigated by Norman Chapin, a former Peace Corps member.

The Buryats have fought back against their captors by painting a vivid picture of their spiritual realm. It would appear that the Buryats have elevated their supernatural beings in proportion to the severity of their subjugation. To a logical mind, it makes perfect sense that the Buryats bestowed the might of their conquerors onto their gods, elevating those gods to the status of deities.

Hoimorin Högshin was given the power of a dominant person, which allowed them to transfer the oppressor’s authority to their own supernatural realm. The Buryats, however, do not adopt the look, mannerisms, or language of their captors. Actually, all they mimic is the display of authority; nothing else. As far as the oppressors are concerned, everything else stays separate.

As an example, the Cuna Indians of Panama would make figurines of the colonizers, or the Hauka of West Africa would imitate a colonial persona through spirit possession, but this directed mimicry, this demonstration of the acquisition of their powers, is completely distinct from colonial mimesis. The Buryats change their connection to colonial authority when they incorporate the colonial’s special power into their own god. As if she were briefly aligned with the oppressors, Hoimorin Högshin assumes the character of a ruthless punisher.

The oppressors become irrelevant for a while because of this. While doing so, the Buryats also bring Russian colonization into sharper focus. This makes me question if it alludes to the recollections of accepting Russian rule—memories that are absent from their anticolonial narratives.