The Witchcraft Hysteria: Understanding its Genesis and Ramifications

The genesis of witchcraft is a complex and fascinating subject that has captivated people for centuries. Witchcraft can be traced back to ancient civilizations and is deeply rooted in the human experience. In its earliest form, witchcraft was often associated with the worship of nature and the elements. This ancient practice was seen as a way to communicate with and harness the power of the supernatural. The idea of witches as powerful figures with the ability to perform magic and cast spells began to form during this time. As societies evolved and grew more structured, witchcraft became more stigmatized and associated with evil.

Wiccans heaped scorn on Eller, attacking her book as an unforgivable act of anti-Wiccan bigotry, even female self-loathing. By marshalling evidence against so much of the Wiccans’ claimed history, Eller was hitting a young religion where it hurts. Certain Wiccan claims had seemed plausible, not to mention appealing—my sister’s high school uses a textbook that teaches this myth of a prehistoric woman-centered culture. So, adherents had based their faith on what they considered a verifiable back story. Wiccans had believed, and built their faith around, shoddy feminist scholarship that had itself become an article of absolute belief. Faced with Eller, Wiccans could have taken an honestly religious position—”We have faith, Cynthia, and your facts can’t shake it.” Instead, they attacked her.

Starhawk based her teachings on the work of, among others, Marija Gimbutas, a UCLA anthropologist who in the 1970s and 1980s argued that in pre-Christian times there existed a unified, female-centered, Indo-European society that worshipped a Goddess. Wicca is not a unified movement; it comprises good witches who use spells and charms, feminist worshippers of a monotheistic Goddess, and earth-cultists who propound nature worship.

As societies evolved and grew more structured, witchcraft became more stigmatized and associated with evil. The rise of organized religion played a significant role in demonizing witchcraft and those who practiced it. As Christianity spread throughout Europe, witchcraft was condemned as heresy and witches were believed to be in league with the devil.

Witches’ Brew at Winter Solstice

Christmas and Hanukkah may be the most well-known end-of-year religious holidays, but each December, Wiccans celebrate winter solstice, which marks the shortest day of the year. In a “Faith-Based” article originally published in 2005 and reprinted below, Mark Oppenheimer argued that the pagan celebration relies on false historical claims—undermining Wiccans’ attempts to gain some credibility. If, as linguists say, a language is just a dialect with an army, then a religion is just a madman’s fantasy that has failed to die out. Religions gain legitimacy by lasting, and by that measure Wicca is well on its way to being mainstream. Now 50 years old, the earth-centered faith (also known as paganism or witchcraft) has thousands of adherents and many more occasional dabblers in the United States and Europe. Dozens of new Wicca books are published every year. There are dozens of Wicca conferences and retreats. And solstice celebrations are now seen as normal in the United States—and in freethinking Unitarian churches, practically required.

But Wiccan teachings are for the most part a stew of demonstrably false historical claims. There’s no better time to examine this penchant for dissembling than at winter solstice on Dec. 21, which Wiccans say has been their holiday for thousands of years. For it’s just such unfounded claims to old age and continuous tradition that may keep Wicca from growing to be truly old.

Wicca is not a unified movement; it comprises “good” witches who use spells and charms, feminist worshippers of a monotheistic Goddess, and earth-cultists who propound nature worship. But the many strands overlap. They’re gynocentric; they’re all concerned with nature; they all celebrate eight holidays, or “sabbats,” that include the equinoxes and the solstices. Adherents typically say that those eight holidays were celebrated by ancient Wiccans or pagans, primarily Celtics or Romans, whose traditions the contemporary Wiccans are carrying on. These seasonal festivals, they add, have been co-opted by Christians, who turned Samhain into Halloween and Yule into Christmas. The rare Wiccan belief that pans out is that Christmas is an adaptation of a solstice celebration. We have no way of knowing when Jesus was born. Scholars generally agree that by the late fourth century his birthday was figured for Dec. 25, because that was already the day of the Roman feast of Sol Invictus (the “undefeatable sun”), a solstice holiday, as well as the time of Saturnalia, the festival for Saturn.

But in reaching for a usable past, Wiccans trumpet numerous other historical claims that are entirely without merit. The central claim that Wicca is descended from pre-Christian cultures and that it was driven underground by violent Christians was popularized by the writer Starhawk, whose 1979 book The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess is a foundational text for contemporary Wiccans. Starhawk based her teachings on the work of, among others, Marija Gimbutas, a UCLA anthropologist who in the 1970s and 1980s argued that in pre-Christian times there existed a unified, female-centered, Indo-European society that worshipped a Goddess. Recent scholars, however, have shown that there was no prehistoric Goddess-centered matriarchy. They’ve also concluded that the Celts probably did not celebrate eight seasonal sabbats, and, alas, that contemporary Wicca was invented in the 1950s by Gerald Gardner, an English civil servant with a deep interest in the 19 th -century occult. One can read the brutal truth about all of these debunked theories in a fine article by Charlotte Allen in the Atlantic Monthly (available to subscribers only) and in The Myth of Matriarchal Prehistory, a superb book by Cynthia Eller.

Wiccans heaped scorn on Eller, attacking her book as an unforgivable act of anti-Wiccan bigotry, even female self-loathing. By marshalling evidence against so much of the Wiccans’ claimed history, Eller was hitting a young religion where it hurts. Certain Wiccan claims had seemed plausible, not to mention appealing—my sister’s high school uses a textbook that teaches this myth of a prehistoric woman-centered culture. So, adherents had based their faith on what they considered a verifiable back story. Wiccans had believed, and built their faith around, shoddy feminist scholarship that had itself become an article of absolute belief. Faced with Eller, Wiccans could have taken an honestly religious position—”We have faith, Cynthia, and your facts can’t shake it.” Instead, they attacked her.

And therein lies the problem for Wiccans: Religions tend to succeed to the extent that they are not subject to tests of proof. They are based on beliefs in invisible deities and on mystical experiences that can’t be explained by one person to another but must be experienced for oneself. So, the more obscured by time or erosion a religion’s possible proofs are, the more freely the religion can succeed as a matter of faith. Mormonism could never flourish so long as Joseph Smith could be interrogated, face to face, about his visions. He needed to become a mythic—that is to say, long dead—figure. Jews should pray that we never find the Ark of the Covenant; the truth of a religious system should not be subjected to carbon-dating the tablets.

So long as Wiccans are hung up on whether Christmas is derived from old solstice rites (it is) or whether Christendom murdered 9 million alleged witches from the 14 th to the 18 th centuries (not even close), the religion will seem a little absurd. It’s one thing to have faith in things unseen; that’s human. It’s a whole other thing to have faith in an easily disproved historical conceit.

There’s evidence that many Wiccans may be wising up. Starhawk has backed off her boldest assertions and now concedes that some part of her original historical matrix may not be true. The debatable notion that Hanukkah is also based on solstice celebrations has been floated but has not caught on, even among diehard Goddess worshippers. Both Starhawk and Carol Christ, another prominent Goddess evangelizer, told me they had no reason to believe the Hanukkah theory. Chastened by the attacks on their bad historiography, Wiccans are growing more likely to say that their faith is based on a love of Wiccan practices, rather than on particular historical claims. It’s a heartening development when religious belief isn’t dependent on the latest archaeological findings. Wiccans might no longer have to sacrifice intellectual rigor to get their spiritual sustenance. Become a fan of Slate on Facebook. Follow us on Twitter.

But in reaching for a usable past, Wiccans trumpet numerous other historical claims that are entirely without merit. The central claim that Wicca is descended from pre-Christian cultures and that it was driven underground by violent Christians was popularized by the writer Starhawk, whose 1979 book The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess is a foundational text for contemporary Wiccans. Starhawk based her teachings on the work of, among others, Marija Gimbutas, a UCLA anthropologist who in the 1970s and 1980s argued that in pre-Christian times there existed a unified, female-centered, Indo-European society that worshipped a Goddess. Recent scholars, however, have shown that there was no prehistoric Goddess-centered matriarchy. They’ve also concluded that the Celts probably did not celebrate eight seasonal sabbats, and, alas, that contemporary Wicca was invented in the 1950s by Gerald Gardner, an English civil servant with a deep interest in the 19 th -century occult. One can read the brutal truth about all of these debunked theories in a fine article by Charlotte Allen in the Atlantic Monthly (available to subscribers only) and in The Myth of Matriarchal Prehistory, a superb book by Cynthia Eller.

The witch trials of the 16th and 17th centuries were a dark period in history where thousands of people, mostly women, were accused of witchcraft and executed. These trials were driven by fears of the supernatural and rampant superstition. The idea of witches as malevolent beings who consorted with demons became deeply ingrained in the collective consciousness. It wasn't until the Age of Enlightenment in the 18th century that attitudes towards witchcraft began to change. As science and reason became more prominent, the belief in witchcraft waned. In modern times, witchcraft has experienced something of a revival, with many embracing it as a spiritual practice or form of self-empowerment. The genesis of witchcraft is a complex tapestry of religion, superstition, and human imagination. While much of its origins are rooted in ancient cultures and traditions, its demonization and persecution have shaped our perceptions of witches. Today, witchcraft continues to evolve and adapt as people seek to explore the mysteries of the supernatural and the power of the human spirit..

Reviews for "The Witchcraft Trials: Unveiling the Genesis and Legacy of Persecution"

1. Jane Doe - 2 stars - I was really disappointed with "The Genesis of Witchcraft". The plot was confusing and hard to follow, with too many characters introduced without much development. The pacing was slow, and I found myself losing interest and struggling to finish the book. The writing style was also dry and lacking in emotion, making it difficult to connect with the story or the characters. Overall, I wouldn't recommend it to anyone looking for an engaging and well-written witchcraft tale.

2. John Smith - 1 star - "The Genesis of Witchcraft" was a complete letdown. The characters were one-dimensional and lacked depth, making it hard to care about their struggles or triumphs. The plot was predictable and filled with cliches, leaving no room for surprises or originality. Additionally, the writing style was dull and repetitive, with excessive descriptions that felt unnecessary. I had high hopes for this book, but unfortunately, it didn't live up to its potential.

3. Sarah Thompson - 2 stars - I found "The Genesis of Witchcraft" to be quite boring. The story lacked excitement and failed to deliver any real sense of suspense or mystery. The characters were uninteresting and underdeveloped, making it difficult to form any emotional connection with them. The writing style was also quite average, with nothing particularly memorable or captivating about it. Overall, I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone looking for an engaging witchcraft-themed novel.

The Witchcraft Stereotype: Unveiling the Genesis and its Consequences