Fundamentalists demand end to moonlight rituals

BY JOHN BOUDREAU 
Contra Costa Times 

FAIRFIELD -- In today's military, witches can be all they want to be.

At bases across the country, Wiccans are coming out of their secret covens -- with the blessing of the Department of Defense. They wear pentagram pendants underneath their spit-and-polish camouflage fatigues. They practice candle magic and meditation when off duty. They attend on-base circle rituals, the Wiccan equivalent of a Mass.

``The base provided us with what we wanted -- equality,'' said Staff Sgt. Loye Pourner, a high priest, military lean and ramrod straight, and leader of the Travis Air Force Base circle. ``We didn't want special treatment. We wanted exactly what everybody else had.''

Of course, compromise is sometimes required. Wiccans don't practice base rituals ``skyclad,'' their sacred term for nudity.

From the Bible to Shakespeare, witches have received a bad rap, pagans say. After all these centuries, they are finally getting some respect -- at least in the United States Armed Forces.

But trouble is brewing in this pagan paradise.

Some Christian fundamentalist leaders and some lawmakers, after learning of moonlight rituals at Fort Hood, Texas -- America's largest military post -- are demanding an end to what they say is satanism in the barracks. The military, though, is not standing down: It defends the right of those practicing ``minority'' religions to worship on bases, just like Christians, Jews and Muslims.

Wiccans do not believe in Satan. They embrace pre-Christian paganism, a polytheistic belief in which male and female deities are worshiped and nature is revered.

Pourner went public with his paganism about three years ago. He requested base support for witch rituals. Now he holds circle worships and classes in the chaplain complex.

Defend their right

``We may not agree with them, but we have to defend their right to worship,'' said senior master Sgt. Lisa Olsen, a spokeswoman for the Travis chapel services.

``It's part of our diversity,'' Travis spokeswoman Lt. Carie Seydel said. ``You have to accept people for who and what they are to get the mission done.''

Federal courts have recognized Wicca as a faith protected under the First Amendment, said Pentagon spokesman Lt. Col. Tom Begines. ``Decisions to accommodate requests to hold meetings or conduct ceremonies on military installations do not constitute endorsements of a particular belief or practice,'' he said.

No one knows for sure how many pagans have a connection to the military. John Machate, coordinator of the Military Pagan Network, figures there are 10,000 neopagans -- Wiccans and other faiths, such as Asatru and various Druid sects -- on active duty, in reserve or the National Guard, and dependents. There are Open Circles at 11 bases and one ship, and study groups at five other bases, he said.

However, U.S. Air Force Maj. Gen. Richard Carr, chairman of the Armed Forces Chaplains Board, estimates that fewer than 100 people on active duty, out of a force of about 1.4 million people, practice Wicca.

The first official Wiccan ritual held at a U.S. base was in 1992 in Kaiserslaughtern, Germany, Machate said.

``There are incidents of harassment or discrimination, but they are limited and usually dealt with quickly,'' he said.

Some Christians and politicians, spooked that witches are openly praying to their gods on bases -- and in chaplain complexes, no less -- are crusading to ban their ceremonies.

``Make no mistake: The status quo is unacceptable,'' said John DeCrosta, spokesman for Sen. Strom Thurmond, chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee. ``The United States Armed Forces is not a seminary in camouflage. It's not a forum for comparative religions. There is no question that the presence of these groups diminishes readiness, good order, discipline and morale.''

For some religious leaders, opposing witches on bases is something of a holy crusade. National organizations, including I Love Jesus Worldwide Ministries, Traditional Values Coalition and American Association of Christian Schools, are calling on Christians to boycott the Army by refusing to enlist or re-enlist.

``Wicked witches''

``We believe God hates witches,'' said the Rev. Jack Harvey, pastor of Tabernacle Baptist Church, located near Fort Hood. ``I'd like to see them saved. But they are a bunch of wicked witches. They are pacifists. They are nature lovers. They admit this. We don't need those kinds of people in the Army.''

Harvey is leading a letter-writing campaign to Congress and is planning a ``march for righteousness'' on a new-age store near Fort Hood.

``Obviously, it's a concern,'' said the Rev. Mike McCamey, senior pastor at First Baptist Church of Fairfield. A good number of his parishioners serve at Travis. ``It causes people to have a dim view of the military. They are promoting it by allowing it. It's a product of the political times -- amoral.''

At Travis, the small Wiccan community of about a dozen officers and enlisted personnel blends into the rigid rigors of military life. At the chapel complex, just beyond the billboard announcing Catholic and Jewish services, a sign taped to the building one recent Wednesday afternoon read, ``Intro 2 Wicca.'' Inside, Pourner arranged books on his religion.

Often, people show up for the class simply for the magic, he said with a sigh. ``They want to learn how to turn people into frogs and toads.'' Wiccans don't do such things, Pourner promised.

Though some chaplains keep their distance, Pourner said officers overall have supported witches in uniform.

Once, though, a woman interrupted a class he was teaching. ``She was telling me we were all going straight to hell and we were desecrating the church,'' he said. She quickly retreated when told of military policy.

``I feel comfortable here,'' said Airman Russell Duff, a 20-year-old witch at Travis who grew up in southern Illinois. ``I've had almost no trouble. Back home, I'd be in physical danger if I walked around with my pentagram around my neck.''

Each Wiccan coven has different practices. In fact, many are solitary practitioners. But they adhere to the basic doctrine.

Wiccans, Pourner said, do not sacrifice animals, are forbidden from casting spells on people to force them to do things against their will and follow a variation of the Golden Rule, ``An it harm none, do what ye will.''

Inspired by TV show

They believe in the law of karma: Whatever ill one does to another will return to a person threefold in this life. Repeat offenders, those who slander others, needlessly hurt the environment and discriminate could face excommunication, said Pourner, 38, who first learned about the pagan religion while watching the TV show ``Picket Fences'' six years ago.

``If you make a mistake, fix it,'' he said. ``Don't ask the gods.''

At Travis, a dozen airmen gather in the religious education wing of the chapel about every other month around the time of a full moon. Clothed in red or white robes, men and women -- officers and enlisted -- join hands in a circle. Candles flicker in all four corners. The high priestess or high priest invites the god and goddess to bless the Open Circle with their presence. Because the feminine side of life is emphasized, the high priestess usually leads ceremonies.

Most believe in reincarnation, with existence being a many-lives process of attaining spiritual perfection, each life a step in a cosmic progression.