From Ancient Rome to the pre-Raphaelites: how did paganism originate?
The contemporary fascination with paganism is a curious phenomenon. Fueled by the internet, technological advancements, and a blend of beliefs that trace back to Gerald Gardner’s mid-20th-century creation of Wicca, it has evolved into a complex tapestry of diverse and often opposing influences. This intricate mix can be challenging to fully grasp, given that it draws from a wide range of sources and interpretations.
Despite being a distinct pathway from traditional paganism, as I learned from Rachel Rodham, a lifelong pagan and faith advisor at Sheffield Hallam, what is often labelled as part of the “new paganism” movement on platforms like TikTok and Instagram is actually a lighter form of magic. This contemporary trend differs significantly from traditional pagan paths, which are experiencing a resurgence due to their feminist roots, environmental focus, and inherent fluidity compared to rigid mainstream religions. However, this emerging magical trend online has captivated younger audiences seeking to make sense of an unfamiliar world, opting out of traditional power structures such as political parties and mainstream religions.
Rodham clearly delineated the distinctions between modern paganism and the resurgent magical trends, as well as between pagans like herself and Wiccans. The latter has been popularised in films and TV shows, such as the 1973 folk horror The Wicker Man. Given this context, it was only fitting to explore the origins of paganism itself. According to Rodham, paganism did not coalesce in the same way as other popular belief systems. Its expansive nature and the fact that the term is essentially a catch-all for diverse pathways that don’t fit neatly into other categories render it somewhat nebulous.
Given the inherently complex nature of the topic, I consulted Professor Mark Humphries at the University of Swansea to shed light on the origins of true paganism. As an expert in classics with a focus on Late Antiquity, Professor Humphries specialises in the period during which profound transformations occurred in the ancient world, including the decline of religions deemed ‘pagan’.
Discussing how paganism as we know it merged and the difference between the ancient and contemporary renditions, Humphries said: “It depends on what you mean by ‘paganism as we know it’. If you mean ancient paganism, there is a sense in which it never really coalesced: it was a hodge-podge of ways of worshipping the gods that varied immensely from place to place. For example, the sorts of gods worshipped in Athens were different from those worshipped in Rome, who were different in turn from those worshipped in, say, Ephesus in Asia Minor or Alexandria in Egypt”.
For instance, under the Roman Empire’s expanse, scholars are aware of an “extraordinary variety of local gods” because wherever the conquering Romans moved, they tended to incorporate those deities into their own religious frameworks and set up altars and dedications to them. In one parallel to today, he comments, “It was an infinitely variable, flexible, and adaptable system”.
Broadly speaking, the Romans were careful to avoid offending the gods of other peoples, as they sought to avoid incurring divine wrath. Even during military campaigns, such as when besieging another city, they performed the evocatio ritual. This ritual, which involved “calling out” or enticing a city’s protective deity to leave its current abode and come to Rome, was intended to ensure that the god would favour Rome rather than resist their efforts. This practice reflected the Romans’ strategic approach to integrating and respecting the deities of conquered peoples while reinforcing their own religious and political dominance.
Characterising this multifarious ancient paganism, rituals and forms of worship varied considerably despite several basic commonalities, such as animal sacrifice. Outlining some of the differences that arose, the cult of the mother goddess Cybele from Turkey, brought to Rome in 204 BC, was venerated in a relatively traditional Roman practice by natives. In contrast, those “imported” from the goddess’ homeland and Greece had their own “more exotic ways” of cult practice, such as the eunuch priests known as the Galli.
Importantly, Humphries echoes what Rodham told Far Out about contemporary paganism. He states: “Modern paganism is a very different creature. For the most part, it is an effort to recreate lost folk traditions, often on the basis of very eclectic sources.”
The professor suggests that modern paganism has its roots in the 19th century. This perhaps points to the likes of Gardner and those who came before him, such as the pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood of artists, whose ranks included Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who created the famous 1874 oil painting Proserpine, based on the Roman goddess of the same name, as influencing modern paganism emerging in the cultural conscience. He says: “It has generally flourished really since the 19th century, when, in response to growing secularism in European societies, the dominant place once exercised by institutional forms of Christianity began to erode.”
This opened up opportunities for people dissatisfied with Christianity to look to other more indigenously inclined traditions. Theorising this shift, Humphries notes that this mostly requires characterising Christianity as being imposed on societies and cultures at the expense of these “traditional” older religions. While the rise of cultural nationalism since the late 18th century played a part, he adds: “In many respects, though, modern paganism is often shaped by the ways in which it is ‘not Christianity’.”
Humphries maintains that this was not a linear occurrence, as folk traditions are evidenced to have endured after the arrival of Christianity in the early ADs. Furthermore, writings from Christian scholars of the time note local practices, such as the veneration of trees or witchcraft remaining, despite the new religion’s spread. Still, ironically, these are largely only heard through the Christian authorities trying their hardest to suppress them.
In one of the most critical points of the conversation, Humphries casts doubt on the continuity between the abovementioned traditions and modern paganism. He even uses one of the most famous aspects of the contemporary interpretation known to Britain, telling me: “Take the annual celebrations of midsummer at Stonehenge with druids and so forth: there is no evidence at all that such practices are ancient. Their modern revival assembles ideas from an eclectic range of sources and forges something new out of them.”
Like Rodham, Humphries emphasises the importance of labels and terminology in understanding the concept of paganism. He explains that while modern pagans may identify with the term, it was not used in ancient times. The Latin word paganus, from which “pagan” is derived, originally functioned as a Christian pejorative. It referred to an inhabitant of a pagus, or rural district, and was akin to calling someone a “country bumpkin” or using other derogatory terms for provincial folk. Consequently, figures like Thomas Hardy’s ill-fated heroine Tess Durbeyfield or the characters Kerry and Kurtan from the BBC’s This Country might have been seen as paganus by their historical contemporaries. Thus, the term “pagan” has evolved significantly from its original, somewhat dismissive connotation, diverging sharply from the ancient practices associated with druids and witches that it is often thought to represent.
In a departure from the essence Rodham outlined, Humphries says that the hallmarks of paganism then and now are different. Instead of the modern version being a loose collection of beliefs, because it is presented in opposition to Christianity, it represents itself as more coherent and organised. This is a compelling distinction to hear.
However, he continues: “It is interesting to note that in the ancient world, the only attempt to create anything that resembles an organised paganism also developed in response to Christianity.”
To conclude, I asked Humphries about his perspective on the future of modern paganism within today’s diverse religious and spiritual landscape. He responded: “About as positive as that for any other religious grouping, I would guess. I suspect that in most modern, liberal, multicultural democratic societies, the retreat of institutional Christianity is a given, though I’d say it is not irreversible (just look at the illiberal backlash in the United States, often associated with highly conservative forms of Christianity). In that multicultural context, the future for modern paganism is probably quite positive as part of a wider marketplace of religious options.”
He continues: “But it will probably remain for the foreseeable future an eclectic and diverse movement. On the basis of 2021 census figures, current pagan numbers in the UK seem to be about a quarter of a million people. It is hard to relate that to earlier census data because census questions have changed. The religious landscape of the UK has been changing dramatically since the mid-twentieth century; paganism has been part of that and will likely remain so.”
Next time you’re watching The Wicker Man or Buffy the Vampire Slayer, rest assured that the portrayal of paganism and witchcraft in these works is far removed from the actual practices of ancient times. Similarly, modern paganism, which differs significantly from the sensationalised versions popular on social media, represents a relatively new system of belief and is quite distinct from the widespread pagan practices of millennia past.
