Arthur Miller’s The Crucible tells the story of the Salem witch trials, which occurred in the year 1692. A collective hysteria developed in the town after several children fell ill, and many babies died at birth. The reigning authorities’ explanation was witchcraft, and evidence for this included the discovery that young girls were surreptitiously dancing in the forest, which was interpreted to mean that they were secretly communicating with the devil. This belief system spread like a virus and eventually became the unquestioned orthodoxy of the courts, which had supreme authority to identify the innocent and guilty. Arthur Miller was inspired to write the text because he was a victim of the collective hysteria of his time, namely McCarthyism, a period in which witch hunts were carried out against those suspected of having communist sympathies. The more sinister aspect of McCarthyism, as in the Salem witch trials, was that authorities, who are supposed to serve the common good, became agents of division and tribalism which destroyed the bonds of civil society. In both cases, as in other mass hysterias, independent thinkers who raised legitimate questions about government policy were scandalously punished, ostracized, and persecuted.
The text is a masterpiece which should be required reading for students of politics, because it shows how power operates during those periods when certain beliefs become orthodoxies among people who occupy the highest echelons of the state’s bureaucratic apparatus. A small minority is able to recognize the political psychosis, and The Crucible is also a story about these types of semi-heroic figures. It is not the most educated; on the contrary, The Crucible demonstrates how the educated class plays a pivotal role as transmitters and perpetuators of the hysteria. Rather, it is the rule breakers, or those whose livelihood is independent of the authorities, who can see what is actually occurring. But even for them, dissent carries a high price, and an inflection point is reached when they must either choose the path of conformity, which brings material comfort and security, or their conscience, which brings pain, exclusion and persecution.
In the opening scene, the reader encounters Betty, who is delirious and unresponsive, lying on her bed, surrounded by her father, the Protestant Pastor Parris, convinced that she is possessed. The devil is stalking Salem, preying on victims, particularly vulnerable young girls like Betty, and evidence for this, Parris and others believe, is that the girls were dancing in the forest (dancing was banned in Salem). When this belief takes hold, the accused are pressured to confess their crimes and renounce the devil; this would expiate their sins and make them “pure” enough to re-enter the community. Those who refused to confess were publicly hanged. Understandably, many dishonestly complied, as lying and betraying oneself seemed like a small price to pay to avoid an untimely, humiliating, and excruciating death. It was Salem’s highest authorities—lawyers, judges, and Harvard-educated theologians—who were the agents of this charade. Most others went along out of a combination of sincere belief and fear of both the invisible enemy (witches) and of the awesome power of the authorities who arrogated to themselves the right to monopolize how this enemy would be interpreted, understood, judged, and acted upon.
But not everyone fell into line. One of The Crucible’s main characters is John Proctor, a strong, hard-working independent farmer. He does not work for the state and hence his livelihood is not dependent on accepting its narratives. He is a “sinner”, but in the moral not criminal sense: while his wife was sick, he committed adultery with Abigail. The latter, in turn, is participating in the hysteria, claiming to be in communication with the devil, whom, we are told, reveals to Abigail his agents in Salem. Abigail says that Mary Warren, John Proctor’s wife, is among those whom Satan is using to curse the good people of the town. Proctor can see what the real motives are: Abigail desires Proctor, but his wife Mary Warren stands in the way. If the latter were to be tried and executed for witchcraft, Abigail could marry the man she covets. Thus, Proctor’s regrettable betrayal of his saintly wife also allowed him to see that, below the hysteria, other motives were at play. Once that bubble has been punctured, it becomes easy to see sinister motives elsewhere. For example, a farmer Putnam had a property dispute with his neighbour, and the Salem witch trials represented an opportunity to exploit the hysteria for material gain.
A striking feature about the witch trials is that the authorities were utterly blind to these ulterior motives despite the evidence being in front of their eyes. There is an exception: Hale, the brilliant theologian, arrives in Salem from Boston to help the authorities deal with devil’s machinations, but after a series of interviews and observations, he recognizes that many of the accusers are lying. His voice of reason is drowned out by those of other authorities who, by then, had already executed dozens of suspected witches, and could not fathom that they may have been wrong.
When the pregnant and saintly Mary Warren is arrested because of Abigail’s false testimony, Proctor must convince the court that her accuser is a liar, and so he must confess his marital infidelity. While he is questioned, he also reveals his belief to the authorities and the public that the witch trials are a farce. He is arrested and languishes in jail for three months. On the day of his execution, he is given the opportunity to confess the sin of witchcraft and, in so doing, avoid the hanger’s noose. For average men, going along with the lie would have been easy, but Proctor is a man of integrity and conscience, and hence must struggle. The pressure on him was immense, because his pregnant wife is present, and she needs him to remain alive to feed the family (they already have three children). He buckles and dishonestly vocally confesses, but then, the judge asks him to put it in writing. Proctor could not proceed and destroys the document he was supposed to sign, while yelling the truth to the judge that the whole thing was nonsense. Shortly after, he is hanged.
The Crucible is a timely reminder that societies periodically experience collective hysterias, and despite differences in culture and historical epoch, they share certain patterns. One is that everyone’s attention becomes focused on some external, malign, and invisible force, such as witches or communists, which are perceived to cause some sort of pathology. Subsequently, an elite class of actors, usually politicians but also judges and experts, arrogates to itself the right to save the community from this mortal threat by monopolizing how it will be interpreted and acted upon. Their actions, in turn, help to fixate everyone’s attention and fuel the hysteria. Saints and sinners are created by the authorities because they categorize those who go along with their narrative as “good”, and those who dissent as “bad”. The latter face many punishments, from execution to unemployment to ostracism. Interpersonal and civic bonds are destroyed, sometimes irreparably. One of the more pernicious aspects of these events is that authorities become so entangled and invested in the orthodoxy that, when evidence emerges that they may be wrong, they double down rather than critically question their own beliefs. The most cynical reason is that they are saving their skin, as they are fully aware that admitting they may be wrong would mean publicly recognizing that all the pain and suffering was pointless and cruel. Although they may escape justice, history is never kind to these petty tyrants, while heroes like Proctor are vindicated because their perspicacity, courage and integrity prevented them from following the herd.
