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How has art been a form of protest? The story of W.I.T.C.H.

  • Writer: Amy Lee Lillard
    Amy Lee Lillard
  • Dec 16, 2025
  • 8 min read



Can art be a form of protest? Does art really work as resistance? And how can you make protest art?


In times like these, it's natural to wonder if art is really important. If writing, music, performance, and other creative work really matters.


I find hope and inspiration from looking at stories of artists using their work to resist the status quo. The story of the W.I.T.C.H. is a super powerful example to show the way.


Listen to this story!

They were weird. Dressing up and casting spells in modern times is weird, right? Interrupting important business and future plans for theater is weird, right?


Or maybe, it’s something brilliant.


In 1968 a splinter group of radical feminists introduced a new tactic to fight for women’s rights. And in the process, they raised all sorts of questions about how normal our normal really is.


How did ancient and primal fears provide the perfect imagery for women’s rights? How did radical feminists use theater and artistic play to channel their anger and make an impact? And what can we learn from the Women’s International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell, or WITCH, about how to make art as resistance today and tomorrow?



From Rebel Yell Creative, this is The Art of Resistance, a podcast about channeling our rage into creation, and using writing, music, and all kinds of art to resist the status quo.


I’m your host and producer Amy Lee Lillard, and I’m an author, podcaster, and middle-aged witchy feminist who’s been obsessing over artists who resisted since I was a kid. And today, I’m looking to make all the weird art, and help others do the same. 

 

PART 1:  RADICAL WOMEN

You know all the movements that started in the 1960s? The groups of students, citizens, organizers, leaders. So many activists and so much action. And it’s nice to think that those calling for the end of the Vietnam War, for civil rights, for an end to oppression, welcomed everyone into their movements.


But most of the time these groups were led by men. And many of these men saw no problem in keeping women in menial, secretarial roles. They saw no point in talking about equality and equity for women.  


There’s some well-known and public examples of this behavior. At a prominent anti-war meeting, when a woman dared to take the stage and speak, a male member shouted, “take her off the stage and fuck her.”


Then there’s Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee leader Stokely Carmichael’s infamous line: “What is the position of women in SNCC? The position of women is prone.”


Women in these groups were appalled at the hypocrisy. And they wanted to talk about the misogyny that even the most progressive of groups didn’t bother to examine.


In New York in 1967, exiles from these movements came together with journalists, counterculture members, and even housewives. The NY Radical Women held discussions and consciousness-raising sessions, where they could talk, commiserate, and learn.


They were the ones that coined phrases we use today, like “sisterhood is powerful,” and “the personal is political.”

In 1968, they staged a few protests. The most notorious was the Miss America pageant in Atlantic City. In addition to a march, they dropped a massive banner inside the pageant, which read Women’s Liberation.

That image was broadcast live across the country. And women responded. The group exploded, an exciting thing.


But so many members joined that the consciousness-raising sessions became unwieldly and unfocused.

So in mid 1968, the New York Radical Women splintered. Some kept the focus on discussion groups, like the RedStockings. And for those who liked action, and a specific kind of theatrical protest, a new group formed named for the image that terrified and excited – the witch.

 

PART 2: THE WITCH

Take a minute and think about the witch.


There’s the lore, thousands of stories through time and across cultures about spells and black magic, and people with the capacity to bend others to their will.


There’s the history, where the Catholics and Puritans led massive literal witch hunts, with horrific trials, in Spain, England, France, and America.


There’s the image itself. Witches were often portrayed as ugly. Aggressive. Malicious. Refusing to obey tradition and the status quo.


And above all else, there’s the idea and fact of independence. In the stories, the witch is usually living alone in the woods. In the witch hunts, the witches were often those without a man. The witch lived by herself, by her own rules, outside the normal. And wasn’t that terrifying? What could a woman be doing all by herself?


There’s a reason the image of the witch persists, even in modern times. Because an independent woman  is deeply threatening to a system of male power and dominance. An independent woman is a danger to a system of sexism, racism, and economic oppression. If a woman can thrive outside of a man, then it’s all just a house of cards, isn’t it?


In 1968, all the qualities ascribed to witches – disobedience, rabble-rouser, heretics,  independent – were exactly what appealed to the splinter group. These women named their group the Women’s International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell. Or WITCH.  


They announced themselves with a manifesto that said:


There is no joining W.I.T.C.H. If you are a woman and dare to look within yourself, you are a witch.

 

PART 3: HEXED

So what would WITCH do? How would they differentiate from other women’s liberation movements?


Their primary tool was a sort of pop-up theater called the zap – which combined poetry, witchcraft, theater, protest. And it was something.


Images from W.I.T.C.H. zaps 1968-1970


The first major zap zeroed in on the center of capitalism – Wall Street. On Halloween 1968, the women put on capes and pointy black hats. They carried brooms. And they hexed the place.


The Dow Jones stock market index fell the next day.


From there, covens sprung up all over the country. Boston, Chicago, DC. All with own takes and actions. Also their own names. Depending on the location, and the specific action, WITCH became an acronym for:


  • "Women Infuriated at Taking Care of Hoodlums.”

  • “Women Indentured to Traveler's Corporate Hell” and

  • “Women Incensed by Telephone Company Harassment”

  • “Women's Independent Taxpayers, Consumers, and Homemakers”;

  • “Women Interested in Toppling Consumption Holidays

  • “Women Inspired to Commit Herstory.”


WITCH groups protested the inauguration of Richard Nixon in 1969. They protested House Unamerican Committee hearings


And in a pretty infamous zap, they appeared at the first New York Bridal Fair. The theatricality and art was really on display in this action.


Before the protest, they distributed stickers that said ‘Confront the Whoremongers’ a pun on the common anti-war slogan, ‘confront the warmongers’. They performed an ‘Un-Wedding’ ceremony in the morning, declaring themselves Free Human Beings. They showed up at the event in black veils singing: ‘Here come the slaves, off to their graves,’ and carrying signs that said, ‘Always a Bride, Never a Person’.

 

PART 4: HUMOR AND HEART

The WITCH actions and zaps can seem a little silly, especially when you consider the other activism going on at the time. But as we talked about at the beginning, the situation was so poor for women that even the main women’s movement, asking for basic things like financial freedom and abortion rights, was considered crazy.


Women in the movement were thought of as humorless nags and lunatics. Women who asked for more than the world gave them were called bitches and cunts. These were the women that were told to smile, and said no.


So the offshoot of WITCH was so much more radical, they were almost seen as anarchic. They took all the slurs, rolled them up into one image of WITCH, and owned them.


And to all those who said women’s libbers were too serious and couldn’t take jokes, WITCH played the ultimate practical jokes. They had terrific fun – getting together with friends, dressing up, and going out into the world in ways they never had. They got to play and act and make art. They got to say the things you’re never supposed to say as women. They got to become the thing everyone fears.


And it was humor and appropriation with a purpose. Like some of the most powerful artists and activists we’ve talked about on this show, the members of WITCH connected on an intersectional level with other groups.


In 1969, six women from the Black Panther party were falsely accused of conspiracy and murder. They were in jail in New Haven, held in solitary confinement with lights in their cells 24 hours a day. Three of the women were pregnant, and two were forced to give birth under guard supervision without any care.


WITCH held one of their protests outside the jail. Here’s a poem and chant written for the occasion, read in an episode of the DIG Podcast.

 

PART 5: IMPACT

Some other feminists didn’t like WITCH. Many were caught up in the trap of respectability politics that so many can fall into. They wanted to look presentable, buttoned up, like a good girl, so that people might look at them and think, oh, ok, they look normal, I guess they could have some extra rights.


The main women’s movement considered WITCH too fringe, too potentially alienating to the common folk. Too much.


But it was just that image of too much, of being big and bold and frightening, that earned them lots of supporters.


The first iteration of WITCH disbanded in the early 70s, but members went on to other powerful groups. Member Heather Booth went on to create the Jane Collective, a Chicago-based underground service that provided 11,000 abortions in the years 1969 to 1973, prior to Roe v. Wade.


WITCH, just like the stories of witches around the world, went dormant for awhile.


But in 2016, after Trump was elected the first time, WITCH returned.


In Chicago, Portland, Boston. They took the tactics, the theater, the names, and protested Trump and ICE. In Brooklyn the WITCH group put a hex on Bret Kavanaugh during the Supreme court hearing in 2018.


And WITCH survives today.


Just like so many of the artists we’ve discussed this season, we can’t define the impact of WITCH with numbers or laws. But we can look at this history. At the fact that women today are looking at a group from sixty years ago, for inspiration.



Women today are hearing the same slurs and derogatory language, the same hypocrisy of leaders. We have a president who’s a proud sexual predator. We have entire new forms of media that regurgitate the same old stereotypes, the same sexism, racism, and misogyny.


But we also have the same ancient fears. Our society is still terrified by the image of the witch, of untethered women, of independent, fierce, free women.


So we can look to the work of WITCH, at their use of art, and find a tool to fight back. 

 

CONCLUSION:

 

So here’s what we do from here:

  • We lean in to unrespectability. We don’t owe anyone good behavior. And we can use that mandate to act out in powerful ways.

  • We use play, and fun, as a tool. As you’ve no doubt seen on social media, joy is an act fo resistance. So is theater, and art, and making things, for protest and for life.

  • We appropriate insults. People think independent, childless, old women like me are useless? That just means I’m free. So I’m a witch, I’m a bitch, I’m a cunt. And I’m coming for you.

  • And don’t think of this as short term. Even if we get a new administration in 2028, even if we miraculously come out of this terrifying, tyrannical moment, there is so much to fight against and for. This is a long-term commitment to making art for a better world.

 

The Art of Resistance is a podcast from Rebel Yell Creative.


SOURCES AND FURTHER READING:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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