Voodoo Histories

Why do conspiracy theories endure and evolve, even after repeated exposure and debunking? In Voodoo Histories, David Aaronovitch argues that the persistence of conspiratorial thinking tells us more about how societies deal with fear, uncertainty, and cultural change than about any hidden plots. The book’s central claim is that conspiracy theories flourish when people find complexity unbearable and seek simple, intentional explanations where accident, chance, or systemic failure would suffice.

Aaronovitch begins by separating real conspiracies—secret plans with verifiable actors—from conspiracy theories that assign deliberate agency where ordinary causation explains events. That distinction underlies his warning that conspiracism is less a form of investigation than a rhetorical style: it is the art of converting uncertainty into the illusion of purpose. The book traverses centuries and continents, showing how mindsets, political crises, and media systems produce recurring patterns of suspicion.

From forgery to ideology

Aaronovitch’s narrative begins with the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, the archetypal forgery that still shapes antisemitic worldviews. He reconstructs how nineteenth-century satirical texts were reassembled into an alleged Jewish plot for world domination—a fiction later endorsed by Henry Ford, The Times, and Adolf Hitler. (Note: Aaronovitch treats this as the birth of the modern political conspiracy theory.) You learn how propaganda thrives when it meets social resentment and national humiliation; logical falsification cannot kill a story that satisfies emotional need.

Top-down paranoia and political convenience

The Soviet show trials of the 1930s reveal the opposite dynamic: not bottom-up paranoia but state-engineered conspiracy. Aaronovitch exposes how Stalin’s regime choreographed public confessions and global plots to explain industrial failures. Through the Pyatakov trial, you see how coercion, psychological collapse, and political spectacle create believable fictions. Outsiders from Ambassador Joseph Davies to novelist Lion Feuchtwanger accepted these performances, proving that even educated observers can be seduced when conspiracy aligns with ideology.

Democracy’s own paranoid style

Aaronovitch then maps American conspiracism—from isolationists like John T. Flynn and Charles Lindbergh to McCarthyite Red Hunts. Each movement converted policy disagreement into intentional plots. The claim that Roosevelt provoked Pearl Harbor or that hidden Communists ran the government illustrates a key pattern: conspiracy provides certainty for those who feel politically disenfranchised. (Richard Hofstadter’s classic “paranoid style” looms behind Aaronovitch’s explanation.)

The cult of mystery and pseudo-scholarship

From the Priory of Sion hoax to the pseudoarchaeology of Graham Hancock and Erich von Däniken, the book exposes how fabrication is sanctified by “research.” Forged documents, selective citations, and cross-referencing within closed circles give these stories academic sheen. Pierre Plantard’s invented bloodline, repurposed by Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh, shows how myth becomes culture once marketed as “hidden knowledge.” Commercial success turns suspicion into heritage.

The digital mutation

In the Internet age, Aaronovitch turns to the 9/11 Truth movement. Dylan Avery’s Loose Change and David Ray Griffin’s books mark a new era—viral distribution, self-styled experts, and academic tone without evidence. Online amplification creates echo chambers where celebrity endorsement substitutes for proof. The web dissolves traditional gatekeeping and makes dissemination easier than verification.

Psychology and narrative comfort

Aaronovitch closes by asking why belief persists. Drawing on Stephen Grosz and Elaine Showalter, he proposes that paranoia and hysteria meet emotional needs: the fear of randomness and indifference. Believing you’re targeted offers greater meaning than believing you’re irrelevant. Conspiracism, he argues, acts like modern mythmaking—a “soul’s version of truth” that dramatizes real grievances in symbolic form.

Central takeaway

To counter conspiracism, you must combine skepticism with empathy: address the fear and narratives that make conspiracy emotionally satisfying while insisting on independent evidence. Facts alone rarely win hearts; but understanding how false coherence attracts the human mind lets you reclaim critical thought without contempt.

Aaronovitch shows that conspiracy theories follow a recognizable structure—rhetorical habits that make implausible claims feel persuasive. You learn to spot these mechanics rather than just dismiss the theories outright.

Core structural features

• Appeal to precedent: Claims borrow credibility from older plots (Gunpowder Plot, JFK, Reichstag fire) to make new ones seem possible.
• Insider heroism: Believers cast themselves as brave minority truth seekers facing blind “sheeple.”
• Academic veneer: Dense documentation and circular citations create false scholarly authority.
• Flexible falsifiability: Contradictory evidence becomes part of the plot—critique is reframed as suppression.
• Persecution narrative: Followers imagine censorship or surveillance, reinforcing martyrdom.

Rhetorical engines

Aaronovitch identifies moves that defend improbabilities: special pleading (“facts hidden from us”), cumulative argument (stacking weak anomalies until they look compelling), and comparative improbability (“the official version is itself hard to believe”). These tactics sound reasonable but evade falsification. They rely on psychological plausibility, not evidentiary discipline.

Occam’s razor and parsimony

He invokes Occam’s razor: prefer explanations requiring fewer extraordinary assumptions. If an event demands thousands of silent conspirators and perfect secrecy, that alone should provoke caution. Sensible skepticism weighs necessity—not appetite for coherence. (Note: Aaronovitch often quotes Tom Paine’s dictum that it’s likelier a man lied than that nature went out of its course.)

Practical takeaway

Map each claim to these features. When a narrative depends on recycled sources, self-citing authorities, or dramatic coherence, you’re likely exploring a conspiracist genre rather than an investigation. Recognizing the craft lets you debate intelligently instead of reacting emotionally.

Forged documents sit at the heart of several conspiracist myths Aaronovitch examines—from the antisemitic Protocols of Zion to the Priory of Sion papers guiding The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail. These texts demonstrate how fabrication can masquerade as revelation.

Political weapon: the Protocols

The Protocols pretended to record a Jewish cabal’s plan for global domination, yet it was plagiarized from a satire about Napoleon III. Despite exposure, it gained legitimacy through figures like Henry Ford and Hitler. The book’s persistence proves that narrative “fit”—matching prejudice and crisis—can outweigh proof. (Aaronovitch notes that forged texts often survive by appearing prophetic when they simply echo existing fears.)

Cultural myth: the Priory of Sion

A century later, Pierre Plantard’s Priory legend recycled precisely these methods. Forged parchments, faux genealogies, and BBC documentaries turned fiction into history. Henry Lincoln and colleagues expanded minor mysteries into cosmic lineage stories. Even after Plantard’s confession, book sales and tourism flourished, illustrating that once myth and market converge, exposure barely matters.

Pseudo-scholarship as marketing

Aaronovitch shows how pseudo-scholars like Velikovsky, von Däniken, and Hancock repeat the pattern: selective evidence and grand synthesis over precise analysis. Their works satisfy curiosity and aesthetic pleasure (codes, lost civilizations) while bypassing methodological rigor. Publishing cycles—book, TV, DVD, lecture—convert intellectual challenge into entertainment commerce.

Insight

Forgeries endure not despite exposure but because they deliver story, drama, and identity. To resist them, prioritize provenance—ask where a text came from, who benefits, and whether its evidence is verifiable outside its own circle.

Aaronovitch positions mass media and state apparatus as twin engines that keep suspicion alive. Whether Soviet show trials or modern tabloid coverage, institutional interests often demand an explanatory enemy.

State paranoia and political logic

In the Stalin era, conspiracies were tools of survival: systemic failure reframed as malice from supposed “wreckers.” The story of Georgy Pyatakov illustrates coerced confession turned spectacle. For the regime, inventing hidden saboteurs justified purges and centralized control. (Note: Aaronovitch connects this to Koestler’s Darkness at Noon—truth sacrificed for ideological narrative.)

Media amplification and market incentives

Modern conspiracies profit from publicity. Aaronovitch details how television documentaries, glossy books, and online channels monetize outrage. In the UK, dramas like Edge of Darkness and A Very British Coup mirrored Cold War suspicions of secret elites. In the Hilda Murrell case, local mystery became a national scandal through investigative TV and activist framing. When media reward intrigue, ordinary crimes appear orchestrated.

Economics of belief

The conspiracy industry thrives because suspicion sells—books, advertising, and ideology alike. Aaronovitch invites you to inspect the “supply chain” of narratives: who gains financially or politically when doubt circulates? Understanding incentives demystifies the glamour of exposure and reorients your skepticism toward motive rather than magnitude.

The digital age transformed conspiracy from subculture to mainstream discourse. Aaronovitch’s analysis of the 9/11 Truth movement captures this shift: virality replaces scholarship.

Virality and democratized production

Dylan Avery’s Loose Change demonstrated how low-cost, high-distribution content can mobilize millions. Online sharing erases editorial filters; repetition builds credibility. Polls showed substantial public endorsement of inside-job narratives, proving emotional and technological convergence.

Academic tone without academic rigour

David Ray Griffin exemplifies how scholarly posture confers authority. His lists of anomalies seem rigorous but depend on accumulation rather than verification. Professional analyses—by Popular Mechanics and ASCE—refuted his physics claims, yet Griffin’s calm voice gave institutional legitimacy to fringe skepticism.

Cross-ideological networks

Aaronovitch’s portrait of the Axis for Peace conference reveals strange alliances where anti-imperialist leftists coexist with far-right propagandists. Shared hostility to the U.S. and Israel overrides ideological boundaries. These coalitions spread disinformation under the banner of dissent, showing that conspiracy populism often masks opportunistic politics.

Contemporary lesson

Online belief formation depends on emotional resonance, social identity, and repetition—not proof. To engage critically, you must value transparent methods and independent corroboration over algorithmic popularity.

In closing, Aaronovitch turns from external cases to internal drives. Why do seemingly rational people embrace conspiracy theories? Because they offer coherence amid chaos and recognition amid anonymity.

Cognitive comfort

Humans prefer intentional causation. Neuroscientist Lewis Wolpert and playwright David Mamet both note our bias for story over randomness. When trauma strikes—JFK’s death, 9/11’s horror—conspiracy furnishes pattern and agency. The mind finds rest in blame.

Social loss and displacement

Hofstadter’s “paranoid style” resurfaces: groups losing political or cultural status reinterpret loss as persecution. Economic decline or geopolitical humiliation transforms into moral drama. (Aaronovitch aligns this with postwar American anxiety and post-imperial British suspicion.)

Emotional defense and mythic truth

Psychotherapist Stephen Grosz suggests paranoia defends against indifference—being noticed, however negatively, feels validating. Elaine Showalter’s study of social hysterias explains how anxieties adopt external villains. Conspiracy thus becomes “the soul’s version of truth”: emotionally expressive, symbolically potent, empirically false.

Counteracting belief

Aaronovitch concludes that combating false stories requires empathy and narrative competence. Offer explanations that respect emotional needs yet build on evidence. Rationality must tell a better story: one that admits complexity without surrendering to paranoia.

Final reflection

The enduring power of conspiracy theories lies in their promise of meaning. To challenge them, you must offer not ridicule but alternative meaning—an honest account of uncertainty that restores dignity without illusion.