Modern world inventing pagan traditions gives opportunity for occult deception

It's become a trend.

No longer limited to Halloween night. On the occasion of equinoxes, solstices, or religious and civil holidays throughout the year, more and more local governments are inventing magical markets, esoteric shows, and events dedicated to witches and open to fortune tellers. Because mystery "fascinates," and magic attracts tourists like flies to honey.

Yes, invention. The imagination of cultural departments, Pro Loco (tourist associations), and cultural and sector associations seems to be very active in recent times and, aided by the media, fuels suggestions and curiosities that are difficult to dispel. Invention, in fact, repays the economic benefits, but falsifies the history of places, constructing narratives unknown even to local memory. In 1983, a classic book, edited by Eric Hobsbawm and Terence Ranger, was published in English. In it, historians and anthropologists examined a phenomenon that the British historian Hobsbawm summarized in his introduction as follows: "...traditions that appear, or are supposed to be, ancient are often of fairly recent origin, and are sometimes entirely invented."

This invention of tradition is almost always a deliberate reference to the past, motivated by a wide variety of needs, from political crises to social needs. In this way, a community, whether national or local, intends to express a hypothetical continuity with that past, whether partly real or entirely fictitious.

This process may include more or less legendary facts and figures, or beliefs and superstitions: invented traditions can thus give rise to new traditions. Nationalism or localism are some of the phenomena that encourage the invention of tradition. This invention has come back into vogue, fostering yet another phenomenon: that of "imagined communities." But unbridled imagination can play nasty tricks, and here we come to the pastoral and moral point dear to exorcist priests.

To help understand this dangerous trend, let's look at a concrete example (but it's just one among many, and far too many), traveling to the heart of Lazio, where the province of Viterbo borders that of Rome, within the Valle del Treja regional park. In a beautiful natural setting lies the ancient village of Calcata, built on a tuff spur. Its view is breathtaking, as is the case with many other villages in the area. The silent lushness of the woods surrounding this small town seems to transport visitors to an era not yet touched by progress. But be careful, here as elsewhere, all the ingredients are present—as the articles and videos dedicated to this place reiterate—that the "senses" and "soul" of those who venture into the alleys and cobblestones of Calcata cannot fail to be "captured."

As with many Italian villages, the postwar attraction of large cities depopulated Calcata as well, but already in the 1970s, a growing number of artists and artisans discovered this place with its... "magic." They opened studios and workshops in the village's alleys, transforming it into a vast workshop of works and ideas, because art can create "vibrant energies," to quote a recurring expression in publications on the subject. Concerts, exhibitions, and book presentations contribute to making Calcata a popular tourist destination.

But that's not all. To draw crowds, a touch of mystery is needed, and so the "magic" creeps between the tuff blocks, like that wind that—as one article writes—blows "carrying with it echoes of forgotten rites and ancestral chants." Thus Calcata quickly became the "Witches' Village," thanks to poorly explained legends and beliefs, so much so that "some say a powerful esoteric energy emanates from underground," aided by an ancient altar of the Italic Faliscan people and caves where archaic rites were celebrated nearby. And it doesn't end there. "Alleged psychics" were said to be able to communicate with the local animals, "almost always cats," and on windy days, the chanting of the witches of old (described as "free and wise women") can be heard drifting between the houses. Naturally, at the end of October, Calcata fills with tourists and the curious for Halloween. The fact that there are no historical documents attesting to the presence of witches in Calcata is completely secondary to the media narrative... the invention of tradition in this case is supported by social media, the media, and—as they write—by a "strong," "palpable," "mind-shaking" "energy."

So art was not enough to revive this depopulated village? Apparently not. And the cinema? Calcata has been the set of many films, both Italian and foreign. There is also the beautiful literary garden created by the well-known Roman architect Paolo Portoghesi, who lived and worked here. So what is the use of beliefs and legends that have no foundation but serve to invent a (magical) tradition? To the development of the local economy? Even the best intentions cannot allow the deception of minds and hearts.

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