Walpurgis Nacht 2019
Witchcraft is a practice that was once conceived in rebellion. Operating out of sight, amongst the shadows, beneath the cover of night. From the holy heretic, wise woman healer, queer trickster dancer and seductive sex worker, the witches of the past were all those on the fringes of society: the enchanting outcasts whose very existence challenged the emerging capitalist patriarchal order, and presented an alternative way to Be.
And what of it now? Witchcraft has been glamorised and individualised: a highly public practice often with the sole focus of self care – at the cost of its radical nature. In the face of limitless hunger for power and resources, for boundaries and binaries, the dynamic nature of witchcraft has been cast upon the wayside, smothered by smoke, and splintered by vapid individualism.
As witchcraft is facing something of a revival right now, especially within strands of the Western feminist movement, I find this emerging trend of Witch Bosses, pleasure-yourself-with-crystals, and the commodification of magic deeply troubling. For to be co-opted by the capitalist machine signals the death of any subversive political potency. But to be co-opted at all, indicates that Witchcraft was once perhaps considered a political and social threat, one that needed to be neutralised with blood and fire.
But, there is something strangely seductive about these Instagram lifestyle witches – no matter how shallow some of their practices may be. Casting off the shackles of Christian heteronormative inscription, they’ve begun to listen to their intuition, refuse to take shit from no Man, blazing the way and inspiring others to follow in their wake. And so a question I’ve been asking myself lately:
Is merely identifying as a Witch a radical political act?
On the one hand, granting yourself your own name can be a radical expression of self autonomy and determination: for great gains can be made from finding Yourself and the Others, your weird and wonderful coven to collective conduct magic – whether IRL or in the virtual realms. It demonstrates your own ability to define yourself, and take matters into your own hands.
What’s more, identifying as witches allows us to align ourselves with a suppressed history and reconnect with our ancestors. All those unruly rebels who came before us and were thrown upon the fire – whether on the heath or in the colony – because they refused to lie down. Caliban, Tituba, Gowdie: we keep their memory alive, ensure this history is not forgotten, and scream with confidence, never again.
And while on the one hand names can liberate, on the other, they can constrict and constrain: casting us into the dangerous realm of caricatures, exclusionary boundary policing, and ultimately, can lead us down a circular path of self care.
That is why, following Peter Grey in his Apocalyptic Witchcraft, we should consider Witchcraft as a force, not a form. A processual, dynamic and unfolding practice, one that is suitable for the twenty first century, rather than harking back to the dusty tomes of the yesteryear for guidance or romanticising and appropriating the ‘primitive.’
Yes identities grant protection, a place from which to stand. But it was this codification of ‘The Witch’ that allowed the noose to tighten around our necks: a fixed form to be thrown upon the fire, a singular way of being, upon which the hammer fell. As a force, it allows us to shapeshift, to slip between the cracks in the pyre and reappear elsewhere. A force to be reckoned with, that manifests like spectral smoke in the shadows: unable to be captured, unable to be contained. And who knows what our next apparition shall be?
As a force, it helps us to move away from the embarrassingly essentializing discourses of the second wave witches who believe The Craft to be the exclusive tool of Wimmin (sic.) inherently linked to blood and the womb. Yes Zsuzsanna, I’m looking at you. So hex me if you will. But me and the other gender queer radicals, and all those trans maidens, mothers and crones that you deny are a force be reckoned with. For as, Queer Andina educator, La Loba Loca says, ‘All bodies of water dance with the rhythm of the Moon.’
This sleight of hand, of thinking beyond the fixed to the fluctuating, allows us to look beyond the paradigm of self care and witchy identity politics, towards community care – allowing us to forge radical alliances of possibility, operating across categories and colonial ravines and work towards the same ends: collective empowerment for all and radical resource redistribution.
☾ O ☽
But now is not the time to argue amongst ourselves, for that only serves to divide us. We must look beyond the battles of Witchy authenticity and allow each other to practice, admiring and utilising our differences, rather than subsuming them, and working in Syzergy. For as one W.I.T.C.H once said to me, ‘one cannot pour from an empty cup.’ It’s almost impossible to consider the collective, if your whole existence is consumed by trauma.
So to all my witch sxsters who need to heal, I hear you. Take your time, blaze your own trail, and continue inspiring others to do the same too. But realise this: the path of self care is a means to an end, not an end in itself. Healing is a constant practice, and it becomes a whole lot easier, for ourselves and others, when we collectively tear down the structures that bind us, and make space for others to grow. I’m sorry, but this isn’t going to happen by starting your own business, buying a few magical objects, and if each ritual involves posing for a selfie.
I am grateful that I no longer have to hide, and remain in the shadows. I give thanks to those witches who have blazed before me, stepping boldly into the public realm and carving a space in which to convene. But this is not the end of the story. For not all our witch sxsters have the privilege to practice in peace.
Nor would they want to. Because as soon as we step out from the shadows, and gladly take a seat at the inquisitor’s table, we no longer present a threat to the system. And surely, that’s what we must endeavor to be. For what is a witch, if not a radical force that seeks to overturn the stable, the known, the accepted? No, no, I do not want a seat at the table. I want to turn the table over, and watch it burn.
☾ O ☽
Significant textual influences
Peter Grey, Apocalyptic Witchcraft
Silvia Federici, Caliban and the Witch
Maria Mies, Patriarchy and Accumulation On A World Scale
Ouroboros Squash 