Witches have long evoked power and authority. | Alex Ohan on Pixels
What you probably already know: Witches have long been framed as threats, temptresses and spell casters — women supposedly deserving of a burning stake. L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, published in 1900, introduced the original Wicked Witch of the West as a figure of cruelty. The 1939 film doubled down on this image: green skin, iconic cackle, flying monkeys, the whole arsenal of villainy. She was a caricature of female power pushed to the margins, made monstrous so she could be righteously defeated. Fast forward a century and the narrative shifts. The 1995 novel by Gregory Maguire, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, followed by the 2003 Broadway musical and the 2024 film Wicked, takes that same witch and gives her a name: Elphaba Thropp. Now, she is a principled activist fighting for the truth concealed by a corrupt government. She is not evil, but her willingness to question the powerful turns her into a threat.
Why it matters: Witches were originally painted as forces that must be contained. They could be powerful, but only in a way that justified fear. As women’s rights gained ground throughout the Western world, the same character appeared in a different light. Her sharp mind is no longer dangerous but full of depth, and the same traits that once sparked fear are now valued in leadership. Elphaba is a layered character with the ability to draw strong boundaries and prioritize honesty, integrity and equity. She questions authority and becomes an effective leader. Each version of the witch reflects a rise toward gender equality and a new understanding of what a witch can be.
What it means: Matilda Joslyn Gage, L. Frank Baum’s mother-in-law and huge influence on his work, was a fierce suffragist, abolitionist, Native American rights activist and critic of patriarchal religion but was dismissed as too radical. She was also accused of being a satanist for her refusal to accept church authority. She even wrote a manifesto about how historical witch hunts targeted women for crimes that did not exist, and how those accusations were used to silence outspoken women. Her legacy, woven into Elphaba’s personality, shows that shifting portrayals of the witch are not simply changing trends in fiction but part of an enduring transformation in how society reacts to outspoken women. The idea of the witch has become a guide for how courage, dissent, intuition and principled leadership can inspire “good trouble” during moments when rights feel fragile.
What happens next: The upcoming release of Wicked: For Good is less than a month away. It’s worth noting that women’s rights are now under threat across the world, and stories about formidable, resilient women like Elphaba offer hope. She reflects not only the power of women leaders but also the necessity of leaders forged in the margins. Elphaba is “othered,” and through that experience of forming resilience due to a lifetime of discrimination, she’s capable of standing up for others against a hollow regime. Elphaba’s journey illuminates how the witch, once a symbol of danger, now stands as a reminder that the traits feared in women and marginalized individuals are specifically the ones needed in leaders.
