Witchcraft;
it seems to have become a meaningless term — a catch-all phrase for everything
pagan and sorcerous at core. We have the nostalgia of some, the desire of a
return that leads to the recreation of forgotten mysteries and yet others to
yield to an infatuation of nature where Nature becomes the temple and purpose.
Yet others hail to the diabolic and embrace in witchcraft a ‘counter-nature’
for their aspirations while others see in witchcraft the continuation of Murray’s
‘Dionysian’ fertility cult celebrating a Great Mother.
We find
the term ‘witchcraft’ being used as a reference for pagan ways, for naturalism
and for a host of practices of a darker strain. In all its varieties the idea
of witchcraft gets deluded, enriched and amputated by the diversity of practice
and inclination that seek this label – and it might be so that the witches’ art
can be taken by anyone, just as anyone can teach themselves a trade or
handicraft by a few books. Yet others walk out in the terrains of the wild ones
and are there, by purpose or accident, recognized as ‘the other’ by one of
their own.
No one
can be the judge of any of this but, lead by ones’ persuasion, one can say
something about its nature. For me, my perception of Traditional Craft has
developed over nearly two decades now, where I have been blessed to meet
pilgrims and masters of a variety of persuasions that I would define as the
Craft of the Wise invested in traditional pedigree. Like many, I became aware
of the term ‘traditional witchcraft’ through the letters and writings of Robert
Cochrane and my search was rewarded by meeting a host of wonderful
practitioners of the art, where kinship was mutually recognized.
The
arts and crafts of the witch are often about transgression, but the kind of
transgression and practices that honor nature and defy profane social order in
favor of truth. Truth — what a troublesome word! Because truth is not about
facts and evidences, but about the immanence of the source — hence, we might
say that the ‘sorcerer’ meddles with the source and the witch has made the
workings upon the source into a craft. This is truth — truth is an active state
of being. In a world that loves deception more than truth, naturally those who
advocate it risk being vilified and becoming the subject of hatred and
suspicion.
So,
perhaps it is correct to assume that the craft of the witch can be defined as
possessing natural and occult knowledge that enables one to manipulate or
appease the spirits of nature and the soul of the world to be favorable. If so,
many can be said to be practitioners of witchcraft by sorcerous virtue or
intimate knowledge of spell-craft and sympathetic means to reach ones’ goals.
Naturally, when knowledge considered hidden is revealed in divination and by
the means of classical astrology it can cause suspicion —and likewise the
uttering of spells and enchantments that twist and tweak a natural and
unfavorable current into a benevolent and rewarding one.
The
cunning man who charms away a wart, the planet doctor who cast an election and
make a talisman for a given purpose or the lonely walker who blesses a barren
womb to give child are all people who practices parts of the plethora of the
Craft. We might concord that these varieties of the art can be judged as
‘witchcraft’ in the same level as the ‘venefica’
(originally ‘venerated works’, that were later associated with ‘poisoning’) and
‘malefica’ (negative workings) that
were subject for condemnation by the Tribunal of the Inquisition. The Craft
itself is ultimately the knowledge about ‘the cursing hand’ and ‘the giving
hand’. It should also be noted that there is a tendency to separate the good
witch from the evil witch. Ginzburg describes well how the balance of the world
is kept in place by the battle between the benadanti,
that blesses the world, and the maladante,
that curses the world. It is the same power and secrets that are manipulated, but
by one to the benefit of the community and by the other to the detriment of
common welfare. So, in this the icon of the witch as a poisoner and embodiment
of possible wickedness — to be a constant threat to social order — is indeed a
reality the witch embraces willingly or reluctantly.
The
witchcraft accusations were passed upon people who were accused of malefica, and also for acting in ways
not in conformity with what was considered ‘lawful’ magic. Lawful magic was
actually largely wortcunning and sympathetic workings done by a cleric – hence
those who meddled with this outside the official ecclesiastical or royal
confinements could risk being condemned for malefica,
even if the work was for good ends. From the Middle Ages and until the maturity
of Modern Age, ‘witchcraft’ has gone through many phases of understanding, but
it always has something wicked and uncanny about it. The word ‘witch’ has
become so problematic that practitioners of Traditional Craft often accept the
label, just to escape it, as in the case of Robert Cochrane who merely accepted
the label as holding some sort of meaning, though he would not define himself
as a witch. For Cochrane this discomfort with the term ‘witch’ was partly
caused by a group of Wiccans he dubbed ‘Gardnerians’, who also considered
themselves ‘witches’. I will leave this issue alone and just state that Gerald
Gardner — as demonstrated in recent research by Philip Heselton — most likely
obtained a traditional induction into a lineage of traditional witches. But he
also wanted to make the transmission and the knowledge he received his own. For
Gardener this meant turning witchcraft into a ritualistic system mediated by
fringe masonry sprinkled with some Crowleyan and Rosicrucian elements. Nothing
wrong in this, but in doing this he also became the father of a modern
fertility religion, which we see Wicca is today. This might be seen as a
transgression in its own right as it took on distinct dogmatic features that
are unusual for the persuasions I know who define themselves as ‘traditional
witches’ proper.
I would
say that ‘the witch’ is not one who intends to transgress, nor one with an
agenda of defying social order. The ‘witch’ is that constant and still element
at the outskirts of the worlds that is true to itself, because if possess a
blood different from the many, and in this turns into ‘the other‘ — the
constant reminder that the world possess a living and vibrant soul anchored
deep within origin. The presence of blood shows itself in a natural and arcane
perception of the world that comes naturally for ‘the other’, who sees the
world as enchanted throughout with possibilities and secrets. This goes quite
massively beyond the mere worship of nature and its spirits and seeks to
re-discover our connection with source.
The
idea of witchblood/elven blood is a constant theme and indeed the question of
blood is exactly what sets the witch apart from a cunning man or a sorcerer — a
secret pedigree that lives on from forgotten times where all was mystery, where
the visible and invisible world was free from its veil. To possess the blood or
not is an issue that at times is found provocative and seen as caused by
elitism, but this is not so. It is about pedigree and belonging as related to
family and kin. Over time many of these families dissolved and were broken
leading those of the blood to find themselves again by calling upon the blood
of the land and find their rekindling of the fiery blood there, in their native
land. For others the cunning meeting and unbroken family ties have made the
recognition and acceptance of the elven blood less enigmatic and its mystery
more clear than what it is for many a solitary pilgrim who walks woodlands and
mountains, following the whispers of a silent throbbing calling in the soul of
the worlds.
The
Craft of the Wise is diverse, but diverse across the poles of blood and land.
This means that one specific practice can manifest in a myriad of variations
mediated by land, blood and man — and for those keen of eyes these bonds
becomes salient and evident wherever they are found. It is also my conviction
that even if the blood is forgotten it doesn’t mean that it is not there.
The
icon of the Witch we have today owes much to Fernando de Rojas ‘La Celestina’ and Jules Michelet’s ‘The
Sorceress’. In ‘La Celestina’ we find
the lovesick Calisto that searches out the help of the brothel madam,
Celestina, to subdue the object of desire with potions and spells painting a
seductive and dangerous image of the witch as a siren of debauchery possessing
forbidden cunning, mirroring Circe. Michelet follows up this imagery in many
ways, but within the historical annotations and explanation he allows the witch
to emerge, a poetic reality — a fairytale made flesh — and it is perhaps this
poetic icon that colored our perception of the witch more than any other
account. I see Julio Caro Baroja and Carlo Ginzburg to refine this icon. I
would also place Emma Wilby and Gustav Henningsen in this succession of
research, as they were widening the scope of their study and brought more
nuances into the study of witchcraft.
As
mentioned, Michelet argued that witchcraft occurred as a rebellion against the
feudal system and the Clerical abuse in the Middle Ages; in other words that
witchcraft originated in the Middle Ages as a countermovement to clerical and
political abuse. He is here, as the
research by Keith Thomas and Eva Pocs has demonstrated, in error. It seems like
the ‘sorcery’ he has as focus for his presentation developed within the
ecclesiastical walls of Church and monasteries. It is possible to suggest that
the clerics and friars actually entered holy office with this wisdom or simply
made use of the tricks and spells they learned from the dwellers in the
countryside. This can also be assumed by the Black Mass and the Witches’
Sabbath being seen as one and the same thing by Michelet and many with him. The
Witches’ Sabbath is largely a motive we find amongst the Basque people and thus
recognized by witches from other places in the world accustomed to spirit
congress. It might be that the Black Mass is a corruption of this Sabbath or Aquelarre of the Witches given an unholy
form and meaning. At least the occurrences of Black Masses and the
investigations on the Sabbath of the Witches coincide along the same timeline
and geography. The historical precedence of Black Masses however is largely
lodged in the scandals surrounding the Ursuline convents in Loudon and
Aix-en-Provence where diabolic possessions and marriages with demons where
performed in orgiastic style befitting the popular imagination of Black Masses
and continued by one Abbé Etienne Guibourg (1610 -1686). Guibourg died in
prison, but the Black Masses were still found to be celebrated, in truth or by
rumour, amongst French and Germanic Clergy leading up to the orgiastic worship
of the Carmelite Msgr. Eugene Vintras and his successor Abbé Boullan. Boullan
took the Black Mass into workings of a sexual and magical nature more akin to
sorcery than celebrations to appease nature and night. We can truly ask if
these clerics were of the blood or not — an answer will not be possible to
give, just assumed or denied… The terrain of Traditional Witchcraft is and
should perhaps be and remain a mystery?
The
mark of the ‘witch’ is that he or she seeks ‘the other’ in places of power —
and they are found everywhere, like the kith and kin of the ‘witch’ dispersed
all around the world, these crossroads are found everywhere. It is here the
idea of Traditional Witchcraft enters; it is about a connection with origin by
virtue of a shared blood and ancestry. It is about family in the most radical
sense of the word, as famulus —
denizens of a household, be they disincarnated or alive, mimicking the idea of
the totem pole amongst North American Indians. The Witch who is Traditional
will have such kinship and while most of these families maintain a seal of
secrecy seeking to uphold their stillness and silence, we have some who have
and still do demonstrate the play of famulus
in the way they present themselves to the world, knowingly
or not — it is about the otherness that speaks from the silence, where truth
lingers and slithers…
Most
dictionaries, like Webster’s for instance, will define witchcraft as ‘a power
more than natural’, ‘the power of influence’ or ‘to charm people’ — hence
enchantment, the power to bind someone or something by utilizing natural bonds
or spirit agency. Sorcery and witchcraft are often synonymous and defined as
‘the witches’ art‘ — and so is the congress in dream or ‘orgy’ (in its real
Elysian meaning; a magical communion of the senses) with spirits, often deemed
evil — whilst they are in truth the denizens of the Night.
The
crossover between sorcery, witchcraft, tradition and cult is a tricky one and
it gets even more dazzling if we turn the gaze outward and look, for instance,
at India, where witchcraft today is synonymous with wickedness and is treated
as a threat upon social order. This despite that witchcraft, in truth, might be
seen as something being passed down amongst Kapalikas and tantric sects of
various orientations focusing on yathuvidah
– ‘the sorcerous knowledge’. It would be more accurate perhaps to label these
practitioners as similar in type to the North European idea of ‘Traditional
Witches’ as they possess a darshana/samaya,
or traditional doctrine whereupon they enact their spell craft in company with
spirits. Likewise, the obscure Jewish keshupherim
– the ones who knows keshup (the
secret workings of the moon) is someone brought into these mysteries by virtue
of intercession of past Rabbis and Rebbas that continue to work from the other
side and open the world of night for the practitioner. Can these people be said
to be ‘traditional witches’ or are they more akin to those sorcerers who work
the mighty djinns as written about here in this anthology? If so, where is the
dividing line between the art of the witch and the witch itself? To a certain
degree it is about the induction into a group that possesses lineal succession
that rest itself on traditional knowledge, knowledge varied in focus and
scope.
If we
turn to West-Africa, witchcraft is considered an innate power some people are
born with, a chaotic and eruptive fire that must be tempered, but from the
perspective of the Yoruba people — not battled. This witch power (ajé) is found amongst women called to
take on initiation to the Lady of the Birds of Night, Iyami Osoronga. These women make part of the Ogboni council — the society of wise ones — and they alone possess
the power to crown or dethrone a king. It is only when malefica is enacted with boiling passions and in a spirit of wrath
and vengeance these women are understood to be witches in the negative and
wicked form. From the perspective of a traditional witch this might be seen a
recognition of ‘otherness’ that leads to initiation and induction to the
mysteries. In addition there is also the Imole
Oso that is given the form of a wizard and is the spirit protector of a
secret cult loosely connected to the Ogboni.
Access to the cult is granted by divination and only a few are called to enter
— they are then subject for initiation to these mysteries and must merge with
the spirit of Oso — becoming Oso themselves. Are any of these — or
perhaps all — feasible to the label of Traditional Witchcraft when their
cultural trappings are removed?
The
issue is that when you call upon the spirit and they answer, who can deny you
this connection? If you deem this connection to be one of blood, rest only in
your own irrevocable conviction of having found your Self — and this will
automatically cause a humble remembrance of the forgotten. In finding yourself
you might find kith and kin — or not. In stating this I am also aware that I
open doors – but I also know that Truth speaks in Silence and thus any need for
profane verification of one’s Self discovery will turn itself into dust and
broken illusions. Blood will recognize blood, because the initiation as such
was a pact from before…that can be found and lost again and again.
We might understand Traditional Witchcraft as a
poetic reality of night and nature that, whilst taking various shapes, gives
form to the possibility of the ‘other’. Traditional Witchcraft is a set of
practices born from need, land and blood. It is the art of working one’s Fate
and the art of working hedge, hill and mound for one’s benefit. This benefit
can be limited to one’s immediate needs or a group or conclave of people and
their needs. The witch in the traditional sense is someone who is aware of
their pedigree — the particular blood that sets the witch aside as other.
Robert Cochrane stated that a witch is never a
pagan, but a pagan might be a witch, pointing at the error in conflating
paganism and pagan re-constructions with traditional witchcraft proper. The
distinction lies in the difference between reverence and worship, and what is
known as dual observance, which is quite characteristic of several strands of
traditional witchcraft. A dual observance indicates that one is able to see the
same mystery playing itself out in various cultural manifestations and is
capable of embracing both — the most salient one being witches who uses saints
as well as their own famulus
and spirit guides
to accomplish their ends.
Because of all possibility and diversity ‘Traditional Witchcraft’ is still misunderstood, and
some even see it as a vacant term that can be filled with whatever meaning one
chooses. But, it is not quite so. Even if traditional witchcraft varies —
sometimes dramatically — in its diverse expressions, there are a few pillars
that will always swirl around in its kaleidoscopic dance. First and foremost we
have the idea of ‘tradition’. Tradition is not only a lineal succession of
initiation. It can be passed on by fiery blood passed on horizontally, blood to
blood, flesh to flesh, or it can also be awakened by the celestial flame
striking down... No matter how the induction or initiation is conferred it will
always lead to the same results and realizations — that one is of ‘the other‘ —
and this comes with a natural understanding of the enchanted world view. The
secrets of the world are found unbridled within the witches’ own soul…