Lighting the Fire of Change: The Unburned Witches

There’s a peculiar irony in how patriarchy reacts when you show it a mirror. Instead of reflecting, it recoils—and then it attacks. Society has a knack for disguising its worst instincts under the cloak of “tradition.” Witch-hunting is no exception. While the term might evoke gruesome images of lynching, burning, or public beatings, the modern witch-hunt is often quieter, but no less devastating. Stripping women of their rights, banning them from spaces, spreading slander to tarnish their reputations, and slowly chipping away at their confidence—these are the tools of the contemporary hunt.

It starts subtly. Maybe you question a process at work, challenge an unfair decision, or simply demand accountability. Take, for instance, my own life. Speak up about injustice, call out the wrongs, and suddenly I’m “difficult to work with,” that I’m “too opinionated,” “dangerous to talk to,” and—my personal favourite—that I’m “intimidating.” When you ask people what I did to deserve such illustrious branding, the answers range from raising my voice for justice to refusing to back down from what’s right. In simpler terms, I didn’t play by the rules of silence and submission. And so, I became “the problem.”

But this reaction isn’t new. Historically, women who refused to conform were often labelled witches. However, the term "witch" wasn’t always malicious. In ancient times, especially among pagan communities, witches were revered. These were women who studied medicine and herbs, acted as doctors, astrologers, scientists, healers and teachers. They read the weather, observed the behaviour of animals and birds, and mastered knowledge critical for survival. These wise, skilled women were independent and less reliant on anyone for their existence, making them harder to manipulate or control. Fear often stems from the unknown, and in this case, the unknown was the vast repository of knowledge these women held. They were seen as powerful, and for that, they were feared.

Witch-Hunting: Then and Now

The term “witch-hunt” might conjure images of medieval Europe or Colonial America’s Salem Witch Trials, where women were burned, drowned, or hanged for the supposed crime of witchcraft. But the broomstick is now symbolic; the flames, metaphorical. Yet the terror remains real. Modern witch-hunts in India—a horrifying blend of superstition, jealousy, and misogyny—underscore the global persistence of this violent legacy.

Consider the findings of a recent survey conducted by the NGO Nirantar Trust in Bihar. Of the 145 women interviewed across 114 villages, 83% were married and living in joint families. Most belonged to Dalit, backward caste, or tribal backgrounds, and nearly all were from landless households. The triggers for labelling a woman a “witch” were chillingly modern: a visible increase in income (42%), leadership roles (56%), or even familial jealousy. The survey painted a grim picture of societal resentment toward women’s economic progress and autonomy.

Witchcraft or Progress?

Take a moment to let this sink in: women are branded as witches not because they mutter incantations or stir cauldrons but because they dare to rise above their assigned station in life.

One such story hails from Jharkhand, where five women were lynched in a single night. Among them was the mother of a BSF jawan who had opposed alcohol consumption in her village. Her “offence” was her moral leadership.

In Assam, women panchayat members have faced public violence for the simple act of holding positions of power. These incidents reveal a terrifying reality: witch-hunting is not an act of ignorance alone but a deliberate method of suppressing female autonomy.

The Global Parallel

The spectre of witch-hunting is not confined to India. Globally, women have faced persecution for stepping beyond boundaries drawn by patriarchy. In Europe between 1450 and 1750, tens of thousands of women were executed for witchcraft. In Colonial America, the Salem Witch Trials left a stain on history. In modern-day Africa, accusations of witchcraft continue to mask deep-seated issues of poverty, health crises, and gender inequality.

Even the act of reading was once enough to convict a woman of witchcraft. A literate woman was dangerous; knowledge was a weapon against oppression. Today, the charges have shifted from books to bank accounts, but the root—fear of women’s empowerment—remains unchanged.

The Personal is Political

If a woman’s rising income or her family’s upward mobility can trigger witch-hunts, what does that say about society? Marriage, often heralded as a woman’s ultimate protection, fails spectacularly to guarantee dignity or security. In 43% of cases, accusations originated from within families. Neighbours and communities followed, wielding verbal abuse, economic violence, and physical brutality as tools of suppression.

In Bihar’s survey, 78% of women reported enduring mental harassment, while others were paraded naked, forced to consume faeces, or subjected to sexual violence. Some even faced death. Activist Lakshmi, who worked on this survey, recounted heartbreaking tales of women crying in fear, terrified that speaking out would only bring more violence upon them.

Society’s Stake in Silence

Why does this happen? Why do families, neighbours, and entire communities collude in such barbarity? Because empowered women disrupt the status quo. Economic progress within marginalised communities threatens entrenched hierarchies. Leadership roles adopted by women—even in small, local settings—challenge the existing order. And so, society retaliates, cloaking its insecurities in the garb of “witchcraft” accusations.

Questioning Our Own Narratives

The modern witch-hunt is as much about economics as it is about misogyny. A report by Nirantar Trust highlights that 56% of accused women held leadership roles, and 61 faced violence because their income increased. How, then, do we continue to dismiss witch-hunting as mere superstition? This is systemic oppression masquerading as tradition.

A Call to Action

History and modern narratives intersect on this dark canvas. Women are accused of “witchcraft” for gaining power, for speaking up, for daring to exist on their own terms. The solution lies not only in punitive laws but in societal transformation. Laws against witch-hunting exist in a dozen Indian states, yet ignorance among law enforcement persists. Activists argue for a national framework, helplines, and community awareness programs to combat superstition and violence.

But the responsibility doesn’t end with the government. It begins with us—in our homes, our conversations, our communities. Who among us has not perpetuated the idea of the “angry woman” or dismissed her struggles as exaggeration? Who has not watched a strong woman be torn down and stayed silent?

The Unburned Witches

Today, I’m surrounded by women who refuse to let the flames of oppression consume them. We are the unburned witches, wielding our stories like torches in the dark. We refuse to let history repeat itself, for we know too well that yesterday’s witches are today’s feminists, activists, and leaders. And though the world may brand us difficult, dangerous, or defiant, we stand tall, daring to light the fire of change.