Witchcraft is everywhere on TV these days. Netflix’s much-anticipated new series is The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, a dark reboot of the popular comic-cum-90’s sitcom; the CW has brought back Charmed, the tale of the witchy Halliwell sisters, while the latest installment of American Horror Story depicts a witch coven battling the Antichrist to ward off the apocalypse. Even shows that ostensibly don’t deal in the occult have managed to integrate it somehow: the latest threat in the Riverdale universe is a Satanic cult and a demonic gargoyle.
This sudden plethora of witchy content is no coincidence: it is an effort to address, through metaphor, today’s gender politics. Witchcraft is, after all, one of the oldest female metaphors, and continues to be one of its most apt. Witches, after all, are the embodiment of female power, while covens are vibrant manifestations of supportive, collaborative female friendship. Witches have historically and culturally been demonized (literally) because of how they undermine the patriarchy, proving that they are just as powerful as men (if not more so), and that they can form functional societies (covens) without men. Satan, on the other hand, is an explicitly male figure. Many depictions of witches represent them as servants of Satan because it would be impossible to conceive of women functioning without some type of male oversight or direction; all that female power has to be tempered somehow.
None of the current TV shows depict witches in thrall to Satan, though. Rather, they all depict witches fighting against Satan and his demons. In the pilot episode of the new Charmed, the sisters fight an ice demon who feeds off powerful women. The demon’s association with cold seems somewhat counterintuitive, given that Hell has culturally been associated with heat (“the flames of Hell”), but it is an apt association, given that, scientifically, men prefer colder temperatures than women do; cold office temperatures that cater to these male preferences have been proven to enhance male productivity while limiting that of women, as Cynthia Nixon pointed out in the lead-up to her gubernatorial debate. The demon’s use of cold can thus be seen as yet another method for sapping female power.
Amazingly, the new Charmed does not shy away from depicting female anger. In the original show, the Halliwell sisters were often afraid, often running away from demons, and sometimes even from their own powers. Though they were powerful, that power was tempered by a posturing of ladylike demureness; they saved the world, but only after first pretending to be damsels in distress. In the new show, the sisters are ANGRY. They don’t run away from the patriarchy, they yell at it. For women who have spent years catering to accepted notions of how female bodies should exist in the world (don’t be too shrill, don’t be too opinionated, don’t be too emotional, don’t be too demanding but don’t be too independent either, etc., etc., etc.), the raw venting of anger depicted in the new Charmed is unbelievably refreshing. And it is especially appropriate at a moment in politics and history when female rage is boiling over.
In American Horror Story, the coven is literally battling the Antichrist for the future of humanity. The current season deals with the gender politics of the Trump era far more adroitly than the last one did, even though the last season worked the election explicitly into the narrative. After all, to bring on the apocalypse, the Antichrist harnessed the rancor of warlocks bitter about their position at the bottom of the witchy power structure; the warlocks were only too happy to throw in their lot with a boy with a proven capacity for evil, all in hopes of overturning the hierarchy and putting men on top.
Though Riverdale is famously soapy, its plot lines infamously far-fetched, the Satanic cult it currently depicts is perhaps the sanest plot the show has ever developed. The entire last season was spent demonstrating how wealthy and influential Hiram Lodge, literal patriarch of the Lodge family, controls all the levers of power in Riverdale, which he shamelessly manipulates for his personal gain. The teens’ quest to unearth and expose the Satanic cult parallels their struggle with Hiram Lodge and the patriarchal system that has oppressed and displaced disadvantaged groups in the town (like the residents of the impoverished South Side). It should be noted that when Betty first witnesses the cult’s satanic rituals in action, her mother and sister respond by gaslighting her, trying to convince her that it was all a hallucination brought on by stress. Their reaction demonstrates the complicity of white women, and the crucial role they play in maintaining and perpetuating the patriarchy (Alice and Polly, after all, are relentless in their efforts to recruit Betty into the cult).
These shows are thus not only unified in content, they are unified in message: we are at war with a patriarchy that seeks to oppress the weak, appropriate the power and talents of others, and destroy the world (hello climate change). Women, however, will save us, through their rage, their power, and their friendship. To quote the indomitable Lindy West, the witch hunt is here. I am a witch, and I am hunting you.