hey gather in ritual costumes, jump over fires and invoke the goddess Freya as part of their rituals. But when they're not engaging in a religious rite which some say is described as "witchcraft," these members of the Fort Hood Open Circle are military service personnel, wearing the uniform of the United States Army. And Rep. Bob Barr (R-Ga.) doesn't like it.

   The flap began when the Austin American-Statesman newspaper ran a story about the group on May 11.1999 titled "Practicing their old-time religion." It described the activities of 40 witches of both sexes at Ft. Hood who celebrated the Rite of Spring on May 20, the equinox, when the period of daylight and darkness is equal. Believers in Wicca say that this symbolizes the harmony and balance of the universe. "Their on-post ceremony was possible because three years ago, Fort Hood's top brass recognized Wicca as a legitimate faith, making it the first U.S. military base to provide space for neo-pagan rituals," noted the paper.

   It's not the first time that the military has taken fire for its accommodation of a religious practice. Eyebrows were raised when the official Pentagon's Chaplains' handbook included a funeral rite from Anton LaVey's Church of Satan. Wiccans deny that they are Satanists, insisting that they worship nature and its forces. Military authorities, perhaps sensitive on other issues such as gays in the ranks, have chosen to recognize the growing heterogeneity of the American population, and those enlisting.

   Rep. Barr, a staunch Christian conservative, has now entered the fray and last week sent a letter to Lt. Gen. Leon LaPorte, commander at Fort Hood, insisting that he "stop this nonsense now." Barr now finds himself the target of protests by Wiccans in his own district who along with supporters plan on confronting the congressman at a town hall meeting this weekend. He remains intransigent, though, asking LaPorte, "What's next? Will Rastafarians demand the inclusion of ritualistic marijuana cigarettes in their rations?" Barr also suggests that permitting Wiccan activity on the base would presumably affect national security and combat readiness, and refers to unspecified "detrimental effects on our society" which has traditionally "looked to our military as epitomizing the American spirit of 'for God and country.'"

   Coming out in conditional support of the Wiccans is U.S. Rep. Chet Edwards (D-Waco), a Christian who says that he has "serious differences with the philosophy and practices of Wicca," but told the Statesman newspaper that it would be a "terrible policy to require each installation commander to define what is a religion and decide which religions can be practiced by American citizens."

   A spokesman for Ft. Hood declared that it was "inappropriate" to comment on Congressman Barr's letter, and added that no change in policy was planned at the present time.

   Rep. Barr's reaction probably typifies that of many American's including the nation's fundamentalist and evangelical subculture which often perceives anything having to do with witches and Wicca as the work of the devil. The contemporary perception of witchcraft, though, has more to do with the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church than with any primary historical documents which inform us of what early witches really believed in. Much of the damning evidence was manufactured in the 15th century by two Dominican monks, Jakob Sprenger and Heinrich Kramer, who authored a tome for professional inquisitors known as the "Malleus Maleficarum," or Hammer of the Witches." It was a nightmarish collection of fabrications, allegories, Freudian fantasies and propaganda, but was soon accepted throughout Europe as the definite and authoritative "study" on witches and their craft. According to the Malleus, witches existed in the real world, and could influence the thoughts of others. They were also said to be capable of conjuring natural spirits in order to cause famines, storms, failed pregnancies and poisoned wells. The book recommended the use of torture in order to extract confessions from witches who could allegedly "bewitch their judges by a mere glance from their eyes..."

   Estimates vary of how many victims were executed by the various inquisitions and witch crazes, and some figures run up into the hundreds of thousands. Many of the victims were women who often were older, lived alone, or -- in the case of the Spanish Inquisition -- operated their own businesses and were financially independent from men. What really constituted an "old religion," though, remains open to speculation. Little is known since most of the surviving historical record was written by church authorities who found little need to distinguish between the devil, witches and the ancient cults which worshipped various nature gods and goddesses.

   Today, the popular conception of witches and witchcraft often rests on Hollywood depictions of crones on brooms (as in the Wizard of Oz), or secretive cabals worshipping the devil or causing mayhem. A lighter side is evident in television programs such as "Charmed," but serious Wiccans eschew both of these images saying that they misrepresent and trivilialize their beliefs.

   Ironically, the flap over Wiccans at a Texas military base comes while state and federal officials are debating versions of the so-called Religious Freedom Restoration Act (RFRA). This would require governments to use a "compelling interest/least restrictive means" test when dealing with religious groups. Critics charge that RFRA and its federal counterpart, the Religious Liberty Protection Act, puts the government in the position of discriminating in favor of religious groups and practices.

"Rep. Barr ... would likely cite the First Amendment and freedom of religion were a group to demand that a Christian congregation not be permitted to meet at Ft. Hood, or anywhere else. The crucial difference here is that the Wiccans hold a religious philosophy sufficiently antithetical to his own that Barr finds it difficult, if not impossible, to support their First Amendment right..."

Another consideration is that RFRA/RLPA supporters, in the rush to guarantee what they term "religious liberty," may find themselves in the awkward position of defending minority or fringe religious practices (such as Wicca, Scientology or other beliefs) or of having the government decide what is an authentic, "real" religion. Rep. Barr's outrage at a Wiccan sect is a case in point; the Congressman would likely cite the First Amendment and freedom of religion were a group to demand that a Christian congregation not be permitted to meet at Ft. Hood, or anywhere else. The crucial difference here is that the Wiccans hold a religious philosophy sufficient antithetical to his own that Barr finds it difficult, if not impossible, to support their First Amendment rights.

   Wiccans deny charges that they engage in human sacrifice, commune with Satan or practice a bloodthirsty ritual. A "high priest" spokesman for the Sacred Well Congregation of Texas sent Rep. Barr a letter responding to his charges, and demanding equal protection under the First Amendment.

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