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Holidays/vacations

Paganism

28 October 2024

6 min read

A brief history of Halloween

Our obsession with pumpkins and ghosts reveals a lot about us

Theodore Brun

Theodore is author of the historical fiction series The Wanderer Chronicles. He previously studied Dark Age archaeology at Cambridge, and afterwards worked in international law.

As summer withers into autumn, these days you can’t escape the impression that Halloween is taking over.

Like Christmas or Mother’s Day, the run-in to Halloween seems to project further backwards from the actual date of its celebration - 31st October - with each passing year.

I am especially conscious of this as a parent. Weeks before the actual “event”, the kids start coming home from school with all manner of Halloween arts and craft detritus, poems, storybooks and spelling tests (no pun intended). Costumes are dug out for special Halloween dress-up days. The kitchen is covered in pumpkin pulp and paint – which is fine. (I’m less keen on the vampire blood dripping off my eight-year-old’s chin.)

In the supermarkets and department stores, the black and orange decking appears. Cobwebs materialise in the shop windows with a speed and intensity which any arachnid would envy. Movie billboards on passing buses take a turn for the infernal; Netflix algorithms become decidedly witchy. Everywhere you look, your eye is met with devil horns and the baleful glare of demons.

No doubt commercially it’s a great money-spinner. But what does it say about the prevailing currents of our culture?

Our obsession with this holiday - or at least someone’s obsession with this holiday - apparently knows no end. But why?

No doubt commercially it’s a great money-spinner. But can we read anything more into this growing obsession with Halloween? What does it say about the prevailing currents of our culture?

In the British Isles, at least, the tradition of a celebration marking the end of the harvest season finds its origin in the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced ‘Sow-in’). The Celts, who populated what is now Ireland, Great Britain, and parts of Northern France, celebrated their new year from sunset on October 31st to sunset on November 1st. (Would that ours were so neatly packaged.)

Samhain marked the end of harvest and the start of winter, a time when the days grew shorter and colder. It was viewed as the transition from the light, fertile half of the year to the dark, barren half. But more than this, Samhain was believed to be a time when the boundary between the physical world and the spirit world was thinnest, allowing spirits (both good and bad) to pass through. Thus, it was a time for honouring ancestors and the dead, who were thought to return to their homes seeking hospitality. This ‘thinning of the veil’ also meant the increased presence of otherworldly beings like faeries (or worse), which could cause harm if not appeased. Offerings of food and drink were left out to ensure peace with them, too.

Some of the ways in which the festival of Samhain were held will be familiar to us today: large communal bonfires were lit (long before Guy Fawkes appeared on the scene); feasts were held in honour of ancestors; fortune-telling and divination were considered especially effective at this time; some traditions involved donning disguises and costumes in order to ward off and confuse harmful spirits; small food offerings were left out to placate wandering spirits. Livestock were often slaughtered ahead of the coming winter.

With the slow but inexorable conversion and Christianisation of the peoples of Britain from the late Roman period of the third and fourth centuries on into the early medieval period, this pagan festival marking the transition in the year from light to darkness evolved. Like many aspects of a pre-existing pagan culture, the festival of Samhain, under the influence of the Christian faith, was not expunged but rather, in the church’s eyes anyway, redeemed. In other words, the paganism of the British Isles was not so much swept away as swallowed up, and then re-constituted into something more overtly Christian, but with pre-existing cultural undertones still there.

So, Samhain became All Hallows’ Day or All Saints’ Day, celebrated on November 1st, which honours all the saints, both known and unknown, who have attained heaven. The first recorded evidence of its celebration in the West was in Rome in the early seventh century. By the mid-eighth century, it had spread to most of the Western Christian tradition. It provided a kind of catch-all celebration for the sainted dead, marked by special readings and prayers, and often the lighting of candles at gravesites or in churches, honouring deceased loved ones and saints. In terms of teaching, All Hallows’ Day emphasises the Christian belief in the communion of saints – the spiritual union of the living and the dead in Christ. You can see, perhaps, the same “thinness” of the veil between their otherwise separate worlds marked there.

G.K. Chesterton used to argue that, paradoxically, the most pagan thing still in the world is the Christian church. He understood that in the West at least, all of paganism - the awe and mystery which pagans once held towards the natural world - has been rolled up and retained in the traditions and rituals of the church. The festival of Halloween, for a long time anyway, seemed a particularly obvious case in point.

However, there is no doubt that in more recent decades, with the general waning of Christian faith and advance of secularism - at least in our outward expressions of culture, if not necessarily the inner convictions of our hearts – the surface veneer of Christian faith has rather sloughed off this festival of Halloween. And what we are left with is something more overtly pagan, and certainly more sinister.

Could it be the apparently ceaseless proliferation of this ancient festival has something altogether more chilling to say about our culture?

In his book Heretics, Chesterton had already envisaged what we are now seeing in our culture a hundred years after he wrote it. He wasn’t too worried. “If we revive and pursue the pagan ideal of a simple and rational self-completion, we shall end where Paganism ended. I do not mean that we shall end in destruction. I mean that we shall end in Christianity." In other words, if society returns to pagan ideals, he was sure it will eventually lead back to Christianity because of the deep moral discoveries and spiritual truths that Christianity offers.

On the other hand, I am not so sure. Historically, what has once been a pagan culture that is rolled up into a Christian one does not revert to that same naïve, even “innocent” form of paganism when Christianity is discarded later on. Rather, the spiritual mood becomes post-Christian. Even Anti-Christian, re-creating a form of paganism as appropriated and adapted by the spirit of anti-Christ. That seems closer to the mark, especially when you notice the number of inverted crosses appearing on the doors of the more enthusiastic Halloween celebrants on the street.

So could it be the apparently ceaseless proliferation of this ancient festival has something altogether more chilling to say about our culture? In Jesus’ own words: “And this is the judgement of the world: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil.”

Even if this might be nearer to the truth, the claim of Christ has always been one of hope: where there is death and darkness, so must follow resurrection and light. And at this time of year, it is perhaps to our profit to remember one of the most beautiful passages about light and darkness ever penned: “In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

Worth remembering, too, however scary we make our pumpkin, we are still moved to fill it with light.

So, let’s not be too gloomy.

After all, Christmas is coming.

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Politics

Virtues

27 September 2024

8 min read

The emerging frontier: renewing courage in geopolitics

Narcissistic moralising needs to stop, and we can learn from Churchill too.

Emerson Csorba and Gal Treger

Emerson writes on geopolitics. Gal is a tech investor.

Military personnel, wearing camoflague uniform crowd round a computer monitor.

U.S. Space Force guardians assess a threat.

U.S. Space Force.

In August 1939, the Polish poet Kazimierz Wierzyński reflected on a “Peaceful bliss which had become Europe’s chloroform.” Yet, then as now, crises shake us from moments of calm, especially when we abandon vigilance. We let our guards down, nonchalance replacing serious deliberation toward action.

A shroud of darkness has descended on the world over recent years, with new conflicts emerging just as – or perhaps because – democratic populations turn inward. These conflicts – whether the Russia-Ukraine War, the Israel-Gaza War, or the US-UK led battles in the Red Sea – demonstrate the courage of peoples sacrificing for their nations, families, histories, and traditions.

Yet, in much of the political West, narcissism – rather than courage – has become the focal point of our culture.

Christopher Lasch describes this narcissism in The Culture of Narcissism: American Life in an Age of Diminishing Expectations as a conceit of the present. Lasch notes that we have become a consumer society focused on individual self-absorption that leads to present-focus, sense of isolation, and disconnection from history.

The psychoanalyst Erich Fromm argues in The Heart of Man: Its Genius for Good and Evil that narcissism is an attachment to “self-image,” which “distorts rational judgment.” Yet, Fromm later reflects “If the feeling which the Greek poet expressed in Antigone’s words, ‘There is nothing more wonderful than man,’ could become an experience shared by all, certainly a great step forward would have been taken.”

This wonder of man is in the freedom to act in a world that is yet to be determined.

This is a position of “deep faith.” It encourages full participation in the world, affirming the self through action, though always in relation to something much greater.

The philosopher and theologian Paul Tillich similarly states “this is just what participation means: being a part of something from which one is, at the same time, separate. Literally, participation means ‘taking part,’ in the sense of ‘sharing’ or ‘having in common.’” We play, as legendary Notre Dame football coach Knute Rockne once said, "For everyone that came before us, and everyone that will come after us."

If common history is needed as our foundation for current action in geopolitics, to what then might we turn?

We propose a refocusing and modern renewal of alliances underpinned by Winston Churchill’s A History of the English-Speaking Peoples, a project he initiated in the early 1930s as the threats of Nazism and Fascism had taken centre stage.

This refocusing reprioritises courage in geopolitics, maintaining the light amid descending darkness. It is badly needed given the modern tendency to look inward rather than to sources of value outside of the self.

This is a pathway to vigilance in anticipation of the thief in the night, who may arrive at an unexpected hour.

Churchill – recently demonised by influential conspiracy theorists – emphasises the common cultural and political heritage of the English-Speaking Peoples, including the rule of law, individual rights and parliamentary democracy, which shaped the modern world.

Churchill reminds us of the global influence of English-Speaking Peoples in spreading democratic ideals and governance structures across the world, believing that the global spread of these ideas was instrumental in shaping modern life. He underscores the unity of the English-Speaking Peoples in facing global challenges, particularly in the context of the World War he foresaw. And he viewed the cooperation between the UK, the US, and other Allied nations as crucial to the survival of freedom and democracy.

It is important, now as much as ever, that we remind ourselves of Churchill’s wise words, building on them to address with courage the challenges of our present times.

Specifically, we must adapt Churchill’s emphasis on the English-Speaking Peoples to a focus on nations working at the frontiers of Western civilisation to resist rising darkness which seeks to corrupt the good. Ones not necessarily actually speaking English too.

Building on these unique and complementary strengths, these agile nations united as upholders of the values of English-Speaking Peoples should reindustrialize, rearm, redraft and recommit to a common goal in a world of increasing geopolitical conflict.

The sharing of expertise and overall close collaboration between these agile nations can facilitate rapid preparation for conflict at any moment, proactively addressing Wierzyński's dangerous “peaceful bliss.”

In other words, this is a pathway to vigilance in anticipation of the thief in the night, who may arrive at an unexpected hour.

Renewed partnership is necessary between these nations. There is a need for these nations to re-assert their historical courage, underpinned by vital modern capabilities.

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Alongside the United States as the focal point, these nations are Canada on the Arctic frontier; the United Kingdom as a Northern frontier; Poland as the Eastern frontier; Israel as the Southeastern frontier towards the Eurasian landmass, and Australia, with its recent experiences confronting neighbour China, on the Far East frontier.

Each of these nations serves as a regional center of power and influence: Canada in the Arctic and Atlantic; the US into the Caribbean and broader Latin America; Israel in the Middle East with the Abraham Accords and North Africa; Poland into Central and Eastern Europe, and Australia in the Indo-Pacific. Each of these nations possesses vital agility, given their small geographical sizes or populations.

These frontier nations respond to United States CIA Director William Burns’ 2023 Ditchley Lecture, in which he focused on “[hedging middle power countries who] see little benefit and lots of risk in monogamous geopolitical relationships. Instead, we’re likely to see more countries pursue more open relationships than we were accustomed to over several post-Cold War decades of unipolarity.” The focus here is courage with a long-term view, building a frontier-focused alliance rather than seeking relations based on short-term material interest only.

In this frontier model, it is currently Israel demonstrating the courage to uphold the values captured in Churchill’s account of the English-Speaking Peoples. Hamas’ brutal October 7th attack was predicated on the notion that over the last decades, Israel transformed into a consumer society, focused on short-term economic incentives and leisure pursuits. Israel provides technology and experience in fighting modern wars of various types, as well as persistence and proactiveness that other nations must quickly recover.

Canada is historically a frontier nation of courage, reflected for instance in its contributions to WWI and WWII victories, as well as in the often-quiet contributions that Canadians make to peacekeeping efforts across the globe. But Canada can take bolder action, given its strategic Northern location and proximity to the Arctic, with its vast natural resources including critical minerals supply and its vast freshwater reserves. It can become a more influential global player amid trade wars, helping reduce dependence on Chinese resources.

The United Kingdom’s combination of common law, property rights, financial markets and freedom of the press are important strengths. As Nigel Biggar finds in his Colonialism: A Moral Reckoning, the UK has historically championed free markets generating economic opportunities for diverse peoples; established peace where internal strife previously existed, protected the rural poor from wicked landlords, and provided civil service and judiciary systems to reduce corruption.

Poland, as noted by Radoslaw Sikorski in a recent speech, shares with the United Kingdom “the same strategic vision. It is based on the fundamental assumption that international law is the guardian of peace and stability.” Poland also “consistently supports close, comprehensive cooperation between the UK and the EU’s security and defence frameworks” with continued focus on strengthening its military capabilities. And, of course, Poland is keenly aware of the threat of war which which is ever-present on its border.

Australia has, over the last decade, demonstrated evident success in facing the threat of China on its doorstep, this ever-present threat producing a group of leaders across government, private and media sectors that are as sharp, worldly and realist in nature as any in the Commonwealth.

Renewed partnership is necessary between these nations. There is a need for these nations to re-assert their historical courage, underpinned by vital modern capabilities. C.S. Lewis, in his famous Screwtape Letters, shows that “courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point, which means, at the point of highest reality.” Each of these frontier nations has historically demonstrated success in the face of testing.

Our focus cannot be narcissistic moralising – too often the case in today’s geopolitics – which is the product of the serpent’s advice in the Garden of Eden, in which our eyes will be opened as we “become as gods knowing good and evil.” We must not allow others to twist our sense of history, such that we begin to exalt ourselves in the present moment rather than adopting attitudes of service, sacrifice and worship of that which is unfathomably greater and farther-reaching.

Instead, it must be – as we have seen with Churchill, and as described by Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his incredible commentary on the story of the Garden of Eden, to act.

As Bonhoeffer writes, “If the Holy Scripture insists with such great urgency on doing, that is because it wishes to take away from man every possibility of self-justification before God on the basis of his own knowledge of good and evil… The error of the Pharisees, therefore, did not lie in their extremely strict insistence on the necessity for action, but rather in their failure to act. ‘They say, and do not do it.’”

The frontier model we propose facilitates such action, prepared with the necessary capabilities and coordination for the considerable challenges before us.

We must remember that to participate in the world with deep faith – courage – has been and always will be the basis for human freedom.

Indeed, this is the task of the nations: united by the common heritage of English-Speaking Peoples, acting with faith in the good, always at the frontier.