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Beyond Belief: What Faith Actually Looks Like in Magickal Practice

There is a conversation happening right now in witchcraft spaces about hexing MAGA. Should we hex the head directly? Should we bind? Should we throw everything we have at the target and trust in our collective power? These are not small questions. Before we can answer them well, we need to talk about something more fundamental. We need to talk about the difference between belief and faith, and why confusing the two is part of how we got into this mess in the first place.


This Is War Magick. Not Resistance Magick.

Let us be clear about what we are actually discussing. There is a spectrum to magical work.

Resistance magick works against oppressive systems and forces. It is meaningful, necessary work. War magick is something else entirely. It is coordinated, strategic, and potentially dangerous work directed against powerful, entrenched entities and egregores. It has its own rules, its own risks, and its own requirements for preparation, skill and experience.

What the hex MAGA conversation is calling for is war magick. Not resistance magick. Treating it as the latter is the first strategic error.

MAGA is not simply a political movement. It is an egregore, a thoughtform sustained by mass focused energy and ritual, fed by fear, anger and devotion. The egregore tied to it is younger, but it feeds from an older one, more than 120 years old, created and sustained by occult practitioners. You are not hexing a hashtag. You are engaging a formidable magical entity with deep roots and significant resources behind it.

Knowing that changes everything about how you approach the work.


The Problem With “Just Believe”

Here is where the conversation usually breaks down. Someone offers strategic counsel and immediately gets told: “Not with that attitude you can’t!” Or: “The more you believe it won’t work, the more likely it won’t.”

This framework sounds empowering. It feels good. It is attractive because it offers a sense of agency and hope in frightening times. It is also, at its root, not actually craft wisdom. It is prosperity gospel in a pentagram. It is the law of attraction with candles. It is The Secret repackaged for WitchTok.

The “just believe harder” framework is a very modern, very Abrahamic idea that got absorbed into popular witchcraft through the New Age movements of the 70s and 80s and turbocharged by social media. A tradition that often positions itself in contrast to Abrahamic religion has in many corners inherited one of its most problematic ideas. Faith is a mental attitude. Confidence determines outcome. If it doesn’t work, you didn’t believe hard enough.

That is not what faith is. Not in the older traditions.

There is something else worth naming here. The dismissal of experience and strategy in favor of emotional certainty and “positive belief” is exactly what we are fighting against politically. Trump has built his movement on the same principle. Experts get dismissed as elites. Strategic caution gets called weakness or disloyalty. Confidence substitutes for competence. Belief substitutes for knowledge. We have seen where that leads.

If the magical community responds to a crisis of anti-intellectualism with its own version of anti-intellectualism, that is simply replication.


Faith as Proof, Not Positivity

Within the Cochran Traditions, and within many of the older currents of craft, faith is not a starting point. It is something earned, forged through direct experience, through devotion, through showing up to the work again and again until something shows up back.

Roy Bowers (Robert Cochran) wrote that within the disciplines of faith, a practitioner may receive “certain knowledge” of the divine by participating in something of its perfected nature. Notice the word certain. Not hopeful. Not optimistic. Certain. That certainty does not come from deciding to believe. It comes from experience that leaves no room for doubt.

The proofs of faith are experiential. Poetic vision. The vision of memory. Magical vision. Religious vision. Mystical vision. These are things that happen to you through sustained devotion and practice. They are not manufactured by positive thinking. They are encountered. Once genuinely encountered, doubt becomes structurally impossible. The experience itself has answered it.

This is a radically different thing from deciding to feel confident before casting a spell.

When someone with years of practice, research and direct experience with these specific egregores offers strategic counsel, dismissing that as “just your personal belief” is not empowering. It is the same move that dismisses expertise everywhere else. It makes knowledge impossible and leaves only feelings.


Battle Ready Faith

There is a kind of faith forged specifically in difficult and dangerous work. I call it battle-ready faith. It is the faith of a priest walking into an exorcism. Not hopeful, optimistic or even particularly emotional. It is a deep, tested, unshakeable knowing, of your deities, of your own proven capability, of the work itself, stress tested under real pressure.

This kind of faith does not announce itself. It does not say “I know how powerful I am.” It simply does the work, because the work has been done before and it held, and before that, and before that.

It is built the slow way. Through years of practice. Through workings that succeeded and workings that failed. Through showing up to devotion when nothing seemed to be happening. Through being genuinely tested and not breaking.

You cannot shortcut your way to battle-ready faith. You cannot manufacture it by deciding to believe harder.


Work Like a Guerilla

Your instinct to do something is right. Do something. Work. Bring your energy and your intention and your growing skill to bear on what matters to you.

Work like a guerilla, not like a redcoat.

The Continental Army did not win the American Revolution by lining up in neat rows and absorbing volleys from a superior, entrenched, well-resourced force. They won through guerilla tactics. They attacked supply trains. They ambushed and targeted officers. They blew up ships carrying needed resources. They applied pressure at weak points, disappeared, and struck again. That is how you actually win against a superior force.

War magick works the same way. Find the cracks. ICE is demoralized, benefits and bonuses have been withheld, officers fear exposure. Work that. There are fractures between military leadership and the administration. Work those wedges. Put static in the lines of communication. Make their systems fritz. Use karma workings to let consequences find their natural homes. Let the weak-minded break under the weight of what they have chosen.

These are not small workings. This is how change actually moves. This is strategy.

This isn’t a lack of faith in your power. It is faith mature enough to be strategic.


An Invitation

If you are newer to practice and some of this lands differently than what you have encountered in popular witchcraft spaces, there is so much more depth available to you.

The belief-as-positivity framework is a starting point, not a destination. The older traditions offer something far richer, a path of genuine devotion, real experiential encounter, and a faith that gets tested and tempered into something that cannot be shaken.

That path requires patience. It requires honest assessment of where you are in your practice. It requires showing up when nothing seems to be happening and continuing anyway.

What you find on the other side of that work is not just belief.

It is certain knowledge.

And that changes everything.

War Magick: Sovereignty, Shadow, and the Sacred Blade

“Not all witches are healers. Some are shields. Some are swords.”

There is a current rising beneath our feet, a low drumbeat that calls not for peace, but for protection. Not for stillness, but for stance.

War magick is not about wrath or revenge. It is the art of drawing the line. Of standing between what you love and what would destroy it. It is sacred refusal. The spell of no more.

We live in a world where many witches are called to heal.
But some of us….

Some of us are called to hold the line.


What Is War Magick?

War magick is not a tantrum spell. It is not chaos cast from the wound. It is magick rooted in discipline, sovereignty, and sacrifice. It is strategy woven with spirit.

It is not always loud. In truth, the most dangerous war witches are often quiet. They listen. They observe. And when the time comes, they strike with precision.

War magick is:

  • Shielding your home against spiritual incursion.
  • Banishing malevolent forces, visible or hidden.
  • Holding energetic boundaries in moments of crisis.
  • Breaking patterns of abuse, manipulation, or ancestral trauma.
  • Defending others who cannot yet defend themselves.

This is not destruction for power’s sake. It is protection as holy labor.


Historical and Mythic Archetypes

Throughout myth and history, we find witches who fought with fire and vision.

  • The Morrigan, Irish goddess of prophecy and sovereignty, walks the battlefield whispering omens and outcomes. She is the embodiment of war’s truth.
  • Nemain, often associated with The Morrigan, is the spirit-woman or Goddess of Havoc whose battle cry is so terrifying it can kill a hundred men.
  • Sekhmet, the lion-headed goddess of Egypt, is a war-bringer and healer in one. Her rage is both wrathful and medicinal. She teaches us: sometimes the fever must burn before the cure can take hold.
  • Joan of Arc, guided by visions, led armies not as a soldier but as a vessel of divine will—her power lay in unwavering conviction and sacred command.

And in our modern magical history:

During World War II, with Britain on the brink of Nazi invasion, occultists, including those aligned with Dion Fortune’s Fraternity of the Inner Light, gathered at sacred sites such as the New Forest and possibly the cliffs of Dover. One technique involved a ritual known as the Wyvern Circle, through which a massive Cone of Power was raised to shield the British Isles from harm.

Their work was not done with bombs or blades, but with focused psychic force, ancestral calling, and spiritual alliance.

This was War Magick, ritual action taken on behalf of a land under siege.


The Witch’s Shield and Blade

Every war witch must know the tools of their craft: the shield, and the blade.

The Shield

The shield protects. It contains. It holds the line when everything else is falling apart.

Types of Shield Work:

  • Warding: Sigils, salt lines, iron filings, blessed threads.
  • Cloaking: Making yourself or your home “invisible” to spiritual predators.
  • Ancestral Shields: Calling on bloodline, guardians, or coven spirits to defend a space.
  • Circle of Sovereignty: A personalized ritual to define what is allowed in your sphere.

In a world of energy vampires, psychic parasites, abusive dynamics, and haunting echoes, a strong shield is not optional. It is your first act of war.

The Blade

The blade is not always literal, but it is always final.

Types of Blade Work:

  • Banishing: Smoke, chant, bell, and will to drive out harmful forces.
  • Cutting Cords: Severing energy ties that bind you to the toxic or dead.
  • Breaking Patterns: Spells to unbind ancestral trauma, addiction, or domination.
  • Naming and Unmasking: Calling out truth to dissolve illusions and manipulation.

The blade is not vengeance. The blade is clarity.


Battle Mages and Magical Warriors

Some witches serve at the threshold, not as seers or healers, but as guardians, tacticians, and energetic combatants. In modern fantasy, they might be called battle mages, but this archetype is far older than the term. It echoes in the witch at the edge of the circle, knife in hand. It stirs in the priest who knows when to invoke wrath. It lives in those who do not fear confrontation, but rather train for it.

The battle mage is not wild magic personified.
They are discipline. Focus. Movement under pressure. They are the spellcaster in armor, the one who holds the line when others falter. Where chaos threatens sacred working, they respond with clarity and command.

They are the witches who:

  • Guard the circle when the veil thins or when the working turns volatile.
  • Intervene when an entity pushes too far or an energy becomes unstable.
  • Sense the shift in vibration before others do, and know how to anchor or sever.
  • Use voice, will, and motion to redirect or collapse energy structures mid-ritual.
  • Mediate the sacred space between magickal will and embodied danger.

The battle mage works with more than tools and techniques; they move in harmony with cosmic tides. Saturn, the great protector, lends its weight to shields, boundaries, and banishings. Its energy is the fortified wall, the circle drawn in ash, the no that does not bend. Mars, by contrast, fuels the blade, the righteous strike, the spell of severing, the clarity of direct action. When tempered by wisdom, Mars becomes the sacred flame in the warrior’s heart. Together, Saturn and Mars shape the rhythm of magical warfare: hold, then strike. Watch, then move. Protect, then cleanse.

In covens or magical communities, battle mages are often misidentified: seen as “too intense,” “too direct,” or “too forceful.” In truth, they are protectors, kin to temple guards, ritual sentinels, and martial priesthoods of old.

They are the Blackthorn in the hedge, the edge that cuts, not because it is cruel, but because it must not yield.

Some traditions may formalize this path. In Wild Blackthorn, this current aligns with what we may someday name the Thane Path, the spiritual warrior who stands for the circle physically and magically alike. But even without title, this role exists. The land remembers them. The old gods recognize them.

And when battle comes, spiritual, energetic, psychic, or political, they are the first to rise.


Spellcraft, Tools, and Allies of the War Witch

Tools
  • Iron – Binds and banishes. Use in nails, keys, or chains.
  • Knife or Athame – Not just for circle casting, but for energy cutting.
  • Smoke – Cleansing herbs like mugwort, rosemary, sulfur-rich plants.
  • Black thread – For binding harmful actions or baneful intent.
  • Ash – From sacred fire, carried as a reminder of past battles.
Spirits and Allies
  • The Ancestors Who Fought – Soldiers, rebels, guardians. Call them.
  • The Crone – Not just wise, but wrathful. She does not suffer fools.
  • Land Spirits – Especially in threatened or poisoned places.
  • Wards, Guardians, and Egregores – Create or feed protectors for your space.
Example Working: The Circle of No

Purpose: Create a protective boundary spell to say “No” to spiritual intrusion or emotional manipulation.

  1. Draw a circle with iron filings or crushed eggshell.
  2. Place black candles at cardinal points.
  3. Call your ancestors or guides to stand watch.
  4. Speak aloud: I do not welcome harm into this house.
    I do not host fear in this heart.
    I name this space sovereign.
    And what is not aligned leaves now.
  5. Burn a pinch of sulfur-rich herb or protective resin to seal it.

When the War Is Not a Metaphor

There are times when witches speak of battle as myth, when we cloak our words in symbol and let the blade remain unseen. But this is not one of those times.

The world burns in truth.

It burns in airstrikes, displacement, and genocide.
In book bans and gerrymandering.
In surveillance wrapped in patriotism and hatred cloaked in law.
In bodies stripped of rights. In spirits driven into silence.

And so war magick becomes more than philosophy.
It becomes necessity.
It becomes resistance.
It becomes the unseen rite behind every act of courage, clarity, and sacred defiance.

It is not cast for vanity, nor for spectacle.
It is cast for those who cannot speak.
It is cast for the land that groans beneath poisoned waters.
It is cast for the dead who still echo, unnamed and unburied.

To work war magick in times like these is not to curse wildly.
Real war magick is precise. Strategic. Rooted.

You can raise a cone of power not only to heal, but to hold.
You can enchant a sigil not only to bless, but to banish.
You can anoint not only for peace, but for protection, fierce and final.

There is a reason witches were feared by empire.
We remember.
We name the dead.
We walk the old roads and call upon the powers that do not answer to kings.

And when the gates fall open, when the innocent are hunted and truth is drowned in noise, we do not run.

We shield.
We strike.
We speak names that echo beyond the veil.
We become the weapon and the ward, the line that does not break.


We Stand

Witches have always been dangerous to empire, not because we wield swords, but because we remember what empire tries to erase.
Because we speak with the voices they tried to silence.
Because we hold power that answers to no earthly throne.

War magick is the whispered prayer beneath the siren’s wail.
It is the spell sewn into the lining of your coat as you walk into the courthouse, the school board meeting, the protest line.
It is the breath you hold while lighting a candle for someone you’ve never met, but who you know must be protected.

We are not always called to heal.
Some of us are called to guard.
Some of us are called to fight.
Some of us were born to remember the old rites, and wield them like a blade when the world begins to forget.

If you are one of those, this is your summons.

Not every battle is visible.
Not every warrior wears armor.

But in the shadowed places of this world, the war witches rise.

They are watching.
Waiting.
Warding.

And when the time comes,
they stand.