The Shield and the Flame: Magickal Resistance

During World War II, British occultist Dion Fortune led what became known as the Magical Battle of Britain. A trained psychotherapist, mystical Christian, and ceremonial magician, she knew the Nazi regime had deep ties to occult practices—particularly distorted, appropriated forms of Germanic and Aryan mysticism. Heinrich Himmler oversaw research into rune magic, astrology, and ancient “Aryan” bloodlines. They twisted mythology and mysticism into a spiritual justification for genocide. Dion Fortune saw Hitler as someone who had tapped into real esoteric power, but warped it into a weapon of death; Hitler’s ideology carried a psychic infection, a deliberate cultivation of terror and shadow energy that needed to be countered not just on the battlefield, but on the astral and symbolic planes.

So she gathered a group of trained occultists and adepts from her organization, the Society of the Inner Light, and began weekly magical workings. These involved detailed guided meditations, visualization, astral projection, and invocations of British mythic archetypes--King Arthur, Merlin, St. Michael, elemental guardians of the land. Their goal was to strengthen the spiritual resilience of Britain and cast a kind of collective psychic shield over the nation. The work wasn’t loud. It didn’t make headlines. But those involved took it as seriously as a military mission. Fortune herself said she believed it helped prevent German invasion.

She mailed out instructions in a series of weekly letters, inviting others to take part from wherever they were—focusing on shared symbols, psychic communion, and the reinforcement of inner strength. These letters were later compiled and published as The Magical Battle of Britain. And while it may sound quaint or strange today, for those who believe that consciousness shapes reality, that symbols have power, and that collective will can shift tides—her efforts remain a model for spiritual resistance.

We need that model now.
Because fascism didn’t die in the bunker. It resurrected in the US in the 21st century and then metastasized.

If you know anything about egregores, you know they are real—and they are hungry.

An egregore is a kind of psychic entity, formed through collective belief and emotional energy. When enough people focus on an idea, a symbol, a being—it takes on life. It begins to act with will. It feeds on attention and devotion. It influences minds. And over time, it can become indistinguishable from a god.

What many MAGA-aligned Christians are worshipping is not the historical Yeshua, or even the peaceful teacher figure they claim to revere—it is an egregore, a mask worn by nationalism, white supremacy, and domination. It uses the name Jesus, but it has nothing in common with the itinerant Jewish mystic of the 1st century. It is a blood-soaked idol, demanding loyalty, violence, and subjugation. It preaches power, not compassion. Judgment, not mercy. It is closer to Moloch than to any meaningful form of Messiah.

And it’s not just metaphor.

I don’t believe in Jesus as the messiah—I'm Jewish. I don't believe in the Trinity or salvation theology, and I think even “good” Christians are, technically speaking, polytheists. But I’m also a henotheist—I believe other gods and spiritual forces exist. The commandment is “Thou shalt have no other gods before Me,” not “Thou shalt pretend other gods aren’t real.” So when I see what’s happening in some corners of MAGA Christianity, I don't see monotheism. I see idolatry, plain and simple.

And the cultish reverence around Trump? That’s not just politics. That’s not even just fandom. That’s a religious egregore being fed.

You can see it in how they talk about him:

“He’s been chosen.”
“Only Trump can save us.”
“He speaks for God.”
“He was persecuted, just like Jesus.”

They sell prayer coins with his face on them. They have Trump Bibles. People weep and tremble at his rallies like revival meetings. They anoint him with oil. They chant his name. They believe in prophecies of his return and punishment of the wicked.

This is not political support. This is a cult.

And MAGA itself functions as the unifying spell—the chant, the sigil, the mark on the forehead and the flagpole. It evokes nostalgia, fear, and destiny all at once. It creates an "us" and a "them." It tells people, “You are chosen, and they are evil.” It taps into deep archetypes of apocalypse, vengeance, empire, and martyrdom—and cloaks them in red, white, and blue.

Let's talk about this word “MAGA.” Most people hear it and think “Make America Great Again.” But the word itself carries deeper, stranger echoes--intentional or not.

In Latin, Spanish, and Italian, maga means “sorceress” or “witch.”
In Hebrew, maga (מגע) means “contact” or “touch.”

It’s not hard to see how a word like this—short, chantable, ubiquitous—functions as a kind of sigil, a memetic trigger charged by repetition, emotion, and group identity.

Whether consciously designed or not, MAGA has become more than a slogan. It is a ritual phrase, a symbol burned into red hats, flags, and social feeds, empowering a specific egregore: nostalgia-fueled, white supremacist, theocratic nationalism cloaked in pop culture aesthetics and faux-Christianity. It stirs something primal and regressive. And it spreads like fire.

Also, the alt-right’s use of memes isn’t just internet humor. It’s deliberate symbolic warfare.

Take the case of Kek, a name you may have seen scrawled across forums and imageboards. What started as a 4chan joke—a reference to an Egyptian frog god and the online shorthand "kek" (their version of “lol”)—quickly evolved into something stranger.

By 2016, Pepe the Frog had been transformed from a stoner meme into a chaos deity of the far right. Some online occultists began invoking Kek and Pepe as patron spirits of disruption, believing their memes had real magical power to shape reality, especially around Trump's campaign and presidency.

They treated their memes like sigils. They poured emotion, repetition, and intention into them. They built shrines, made “Kekistan” flags, and claimed magical credit when Trump won. Whether Kek is “real” in a literal sense doesn’t matter—the egregore they fed is real enough. It functions. It spreads. And it works by infecting culture with irony, detachment, cruelty, and chaos.

And just like the Nazis before them, some modern white supremacist groups have co-opted Norse mythology and turned it into ideological weaponry. In the U.S., several Heathen extremist groups have taken the sacred names of Odin, Thor, and Tyr and twisted them to justify racism, conquest, and so-called “folkish purity.” They slap runes onto body armor, tattoo Yggdrasil on their backs, and shout about Valhalla while storming government buildings.

There’s another egregore I want to name:
Despair.
Despair is not a mood. It’s a spiritual infection. And it is being deliberately cultivated—by fascists, by media cycles, by burnout culture, by algorithms that reward hopelessness and rage.
Despair feeds fascism. If you believe nothing can change, you stop trying. If you think there’s no future, you surrender. And if you’re already convinced you’re doomed, they don’t have to fight you. You’re already gone.
So no—don’t give it your energy. Feed something else.

So when we say we’re in a spiritual war, this is what we mean.

That’s why I believe MAGA isn’t just a political movement. It’s a spiritual infection. A necrotic ideology that taps into real archetypal currents--wrath, fear, dominion, and chaos—and redirects them into hatred.

The fight isn’t just against bad policies. It’s against the colonization of myth itself—the corruption of language, symbol, and sacred archetype into tools of oppression.

That’s why it matters who we invoke. That’s why it matters how we speak. That’s why our resistance must be as intentional, sacred, and symbolically literate as what we oppose.

I know there are witches and magical folk today who respond to oppression with hexes and curses. And I understand the impulse. It feels good, in the moment, to spit fire. To do something when we feel powerless.

But I want to talk about why that path gives me pause. And why I think it backfires more often than not.

Take the case of Charlie Kirk. Earlier in 2025, a group of Etsy witches were reportedly paid to hex him. And not long after, he was murdered. That’s not proof the curse worked—but it was enough to kick off a political frenzy. The far right seized on the event as martyrdom. Within weeks, we saw the passage of a chilling new law branding trans people as “Nihilistic Violent Extremists.”

And that, right there, is the monkey’s paw.
A man died, and the world didn’t become safer. It became worse.

I’ve only done a handful of curses in my life, most of which were not politically motivated. Recently, in February 2026, I raised a virtual nithing pole against the 47th administration and ICE. This did not name specific individuals, nor did it ask for physical harm, death, or violence to befall anyone.

In ancient Iceland, a níðstöng (nithing pole) was not a death spell. It was a public spiritual and moral condemnation aimed at those declared outlaws--wolf-heads—people who had committed grievous harms against the community and were no longer protected by its laws. The purpose was not to kill them, but to strip them of legitimacy, to drive their influence out of the land, and to force them into exile or to suffer until they were exiled.

That distinction matters to me. A nithing pole does not demand blood. It demands accountability. It names injustice and calls on the land, the spirits, and the collective conscience to reject it. It is about exile, not annihilation.

My philosophy on cursing is simple: most people shouldn’t do it. Not because it’s forbidden, but because it’s like playing with a nuclear reactor when you don’t understand radiation.

Magic isn’t just about what you intend. It’s about what you unleash. When you throw a curse into a volatile sociopolitical environment, you don’t control the narrative it fuels. And you definitely don’t get to control the backlash. That’s the monkey’s paw. You think you’re targeting a villain. But what you actually do is provide ammunition to the machine that’s hunting your own people.

Cursing also carries two further dangers that are less discussed but just as real.

First, as Nietzsche warned, “Whoever fights monsters should see to it that he does not become a monster in the process.” When you pour hatred into a spell, you risk mirroring the very dehumanization you’re opposing. The more you fixate on an enemy’s destruction, the easier it is to let your own compassion and discernment rot. Magic magnifies what you feed it—if you feed it contempt, that’s what comes back.

Second, this kind of working acts like a beacon for low, parasitic entities—the astral bottom‑feeders that thrive on rage, pain, and chaos. Unless you’re very experienced, very clear in your intention, and very well‑warded, those energies can cling to you or to the collective field you stirred. They don’t care about justice; they care about the charge. That’s why most traditions caution against cursing: it’s not just about ethics, it’s about spiritual hygiene.

Dion Fortune did not curse Hitler and the Nazis, she called upon guardians to protect and empower Britain.

This is the way.

So, in moments like these—when truth feels drowned out, when cruelty wears a suit and flag, when the world groans under the weight of history repeating itself—we call upon the archangels. Ancient beings. Messengers of fire, wind, water, and earth. Guardians named in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam alike. One of the few things we all share.

These are not cartoon angels. They are primordial intelligences, older than nations. They are not nice. They are necessary.

🜂 Michael, Archangel of Fire, stands to our right with sword drawn.
He is the one who said “Mi chamocha ba’elim Adonai?”—Who is like You among the gods, O Lord?
Michael protects the vulnerable and confronts the tyrant.
He burns through lies. He cleaves injustice. He goes first into the dark, and does not flinch.

🜄 Gabriel, Archangel of Water, stands to our left with silver horn raised.
He brings messages of truth and vision.
He is the archangel of dreams, prophecy, revelation—and sometimes terrifying clarity.
Gabriel says what must be said when everyone else goes silent.

🜃 Uriel, Archangel of Earth, stands before us with lantern in hand.
He is the light in the cave, the wisdom beneath the noise.
He reveals consequences. History. Pattern.
Uriel grounds our magic in something solid. He reminds us that knowing is not enough—we must also act.

🜁 Raphael, Archangel of Air, stands behind us, wings wide, with a vessel of balm and breath.
He is the healer. The mender.
Not just of bodies, but of minds, movements, families, and fault lines.
Raphael helps us grieve, and then helps us rise.

Above our heads rests the Shekhinah—the indwelling Divine Presence.
She is the breath between words.
She is G-d as comforter, mother, exile, and flame.
She is what we are fighting to bring home.

You don’t have to believe in them literally.
You just have to understand what they represent--
Clarity. Justice. Healing. Memory. Hope.
And the will to keep standing when everything says sit down.

These names are part of my tradition. But if you walk another path, your guardians are just as welcome.

If you walk a different path, call your own guardians. Ask Odin to remind the white supremacists who abuse his name that he is the Allfather, call upon Tyr for justice. Call the Orisha, the Ancestors, the Bodhisattvas, the land spirits, the heroes who protect freedom.

We build spiritual resistance:

We visualize shields of light around the most vulnerable.
We invoke archetypes of protection, both fictional and historical—Captain America, Harriet Tubman, Mister Rogers.
We pray not just for victory, but for transformation.

Another crucial part of resistance—one that often gets overlooked—is praying for those who hate us. Not because we excuse them. Not because we accept harm. But because if we want a world that heals instead of just burns, we have to leave the door open for transformation. So I pray that their eyes are opened. That they wake up from the poison they've swallowed. That they turn away from cruelty and toward decency, empathy, and justice. I don’t pray that they win. I pray that they change. Because every heart turned back from hate is one less weapon raised against the innocent. And if even one can be reached, it matters. This, too, is a form of spiritual warfare--fighting not just to destroy, but to redeem.

If you engage in any form of magical or spiritual resistance, psychic hygiene is not optional. It is as essential as washing your hands after tending the sick or putting on protective gear before entering a toxic environment. When you use magick and/or prayer to fight fascist egregores, you open yourself to enemy contact and "taking hits". So what you do after the working matters just as much as the working itself.

That means cleansing, warding, banishment, and shielding—for yourself and your home—on a daily basis. This does not have to be elaborate. Smoke, water, salt, prayer, breath, visualization, a whispered Name—whatever aligns with your tradition. The point is consistency. You clear what does not belong. You reinforce your boundaries. You remind your nervous system and your spirit that you are not available to be fed on.

It also means tending to your mental and emotional hygiene. Doomscrolling is not vigilance; it is self-harm dressed up as awareness. You do not need to consume every headline to be informed. Curate how often you check the news. Set limits. Step away when your body tells you it’s too much. Fascist movements thrive on keeping people flooded, panicked, and exhausted. Refusing to let your mind be colonized is itself an act of resistance.

Self-care is not a retreat from the work—it is part of the work. Eat. Rest. Laugh. Make art. Touch the earth. Be with people who remind you why this fight matters. A burned-out witch is not a stronger witch. A traumatized nervous system cannot hold the line. If we are serious about spiritual resistance, then staying whole is not indulgence—it is strategy.

I don’t believe this moment is hopeless. I believe it is revealing. It is showing us exactly what must be confronted, exactly what must be healed, exactly what myths have outlived their usefulness. Fascism feeds on decay, but it is not the future. It is the last, violent spasm of systems that know they are dying.

We are not fighting for domination. We are fighting for continuity—for a world where compassion survives, where memory is not erased, where the vulnerable are not sacrificed to false gods. Every act of ethical resistance, every ward laid with care, every prayer spoken for transformation rather than annihilation weakens the forces that depend on hatred to exist.

So light your candles. Clean your space. Guard your spirit. Call your protectors. Tend your joy as fiercely as you tend your rage. The work is not to burn the world down—it is to keep something human alive while others are trying to kill it.

And that, too, is sacred work.