Slavic Currents in Romanian Magic: What Came from the East and How It Was Transformed

The Romanian language is Latin. The Romanian people call themselves Romans. But for nearly a thousand years — from the withdrawal of Roman administration in the third century to the consolidation of the medieval Romanian principalities in the fourteenth century — the territory of modern Romania was surrounded by, intermixed with, and profoundly shaped by Slavic peoples. The Slavic influence on Romanian culture is the second great layer of the Romanian synthesis, and in the domain of folk magic and spiritual practice, it is perhaps the most pervasive.

The relationship between the Romanian and Slavic traditions is not one of simple borrowing. It is a genuine synthesis — a process of mutual influence and transformation in which Slavic elements were absorbed into the Romanian tradition and reshaped by the Dacian and Roman foundations that were already there. The result is a tradition that shares many features with the Slavic folk magic of Russia, Ukraine, and Poland, but that is distinctly Romanian in its overall character and its specific expressions.

The Slavic Presence in Romanian History

The Slavic peoples began migrating into the Balkans and the Carpathian region in the sixth and seventh centuries CE — a process that brought them into close contact with the Romanized population of the former province of Dacia. The nature of this contact — whether it was primarily peaceful coexistence, intermarriage, or conflict — is debated by historians, but its cultural consequences are clear: the Romanian language absorbed a large number of Slavic loanwords, the Romanian folk tradition absorbed a large number of Slavic beliefs and practices, and the Romanian Orthodox Church was established in the Slavic ecclesiastical tradition, using Church Slavonic as its liturgical language until the seventeenth century.

The Slavic influence was not a single event but a continuous process that extended over many centuries. The medieval Romanian principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia were in constant contact with the Slavic world — through trade, through political alliances, through the Orthodox Church, and through the movement of people across the porous borders of the region. This continuous contact meant that Slavic folk beliefs and practices were continuously available to be absorbed into the Romanian tradition.

The Slavic Gods in Romanian Folk Memory

The pre-Christian Slavic pantheon — the gods of the Slavic peoples before their conversion to Christianity — left traces in Romanian folk tradition that are still visible today. The most important of these traces is the figure of Perun — the Slavic god of thunder and lightning — who survives in Romanian folk tradition in the figure of Sfântul Ilie (Saint Elijah), the master of thunder whose feast day on July 20 is observed with the same prohibitions and the same protective rituals that were originally associated with Perun.

The Slavic goddess Mokosh — the goddess of weaving, of fate, and of the earth's fertility — survives in Romanian folk tradition in the figure of the Ursitoare, the three fate women who appear at the birth of every child to determine their destiny. The Ursitoare — whose name derives from the Romanian word for fate (ursită) — are the Romanian equivalent of the Greek Moirai and the Norse Norns, and their presence in Romanian folk tradition reflects the Slavic tradition of the fate women who spin the thread of human destiny.

The Slavic Rusalki — the water spirits, the spirits of young women who died before marriage — survive in Romanian folk tradition as the Rusalii, the dangerous fairy women of the Pentecost week whose power must be propitiated with specific rituals and whose anger can cause illness and madness. The Romanian Rusalii share the Slavic Rusalki's association with water, with the spirits of the untimely dead, and with the dangerous power of the feminine divine in its most untamed aspect.

The Slavic Contribution to Romanian Folk Magic Practice

Beyond the survival of specific Slavic divine figures, the Slavic tradition contributed a number of specific magical practices that have been integrated into the Romanian folk magic tradition.

The use of knots in magic — tying knots to bind a spell, to bind a person, or to contain a harmful force — is a practice found throughout the Slavic world and is equally prominent in Romanian folk magic. The red thread tied in specific knots is used in Romanian love magic, in protective magic, and in healing magic. The descântec for tying a knot — the spoken charm that accompanies the tying — is one of the most archaic elements of the Romanian magical tradition.

The use of crossroads in magic — the crossroads as a liminal space where the boundaries between the worlds are thin, where offerings can be left for the spirits, and where specific magical operations can be performed — is a practice found throughout the Slavic world and is equally prominent in Romanian folk magic. The Vrăjitoare who goes to the crossroads at midnight to perform a specific ritual is drawing on a tradition that is shared across the entire Slavic and Romanian world.

The use of the banya (bathhouse) as a magical space — the bathhouse as a liminal space associated with the spirits of the dead, with healing, and with divination — is a practice found throughout the Slavic world. In Romania, the equivalent space is the cămară (the storage room or cellar) — a dark, liminal space associated with the preservation of food, with the spirits of the household, and with specific magical practices.

The Slavic tradition of the znakhar and znakharka — the male and female folk healers of the Slavic tradition — is closely parallel to the Romanian tradition of the Vrăjitoare. Both traditions involve a specialist in folk healing and magical practice who serves the community, who works with plants and spoken charms, and who maintains a relationship with the spirits that gives them access to knowledge and power beyond the ordinary. The parallel is so close that it is difficult to determine, in many specific practices, whether the Romanian tradition borrowed from the Slavic or the Slavic borrowed from the Romanian — or whether both drew independently on a common pre-Christian European tradition.

The Slavic Contribution to Romanian Demonology

The Romanian folk tradition of supernatural beings — the spirits, demons, and fairy creatures that populate the Romanian magical world — shows a strong Slavic influence alongside the Dacian and Roman elements.

The Pricolici — the Romanian werewolf, a person who transforms into a wolf or a dog after death and troubles the living — is closely related to the Slavic tradition of the vrykolakas and the volkolak, the werewolf-vampire of the Slavic world. The Pricolici shares with the Strigoi the quality of being a dead person who has not properly completed the transition from life to death, and who returns to trouble the living in animal form.

The Iele — the Romanian fairy women who dance in the meadows at night and who can cause illness and madness in those who see them — are closely related to the Slavic Rusalki and to the South Slavic vile, the fairy women of the mountains and forests. The Iele share with their Slavic counterparts the quality of being beautiful, dangerous, and associated with the wild places beyond the boundaries of human settlement.

The Moroi — a type of Romanian vampire or ghost, distinct from the Strigoi — is closely related to the Slavic mora or mara, the nightmare spirit that sits on the chest of sleeping people and causes the sensation of suffocation. The Moroi shares with the Slavic mora the association with sleep, with the sensation of weight on the chest, and with the draining of the sleeper's vitality.

The Transformation of Slavic Elements in the Romanian Tradition

The most important thing to understand about the Slavic influence on Romanian folk magic is that the Slavic elements were not simply borrowed unchanged. They were absorbed into the Romanian tradition and transformed by the Dacian and Roman foundations that were already there — reshaped by the Romanian language, the Romanian landscape, the Romanian understanding of the relationship between the human and the divine, and the Romanian synthesis of pre-Christian and Orthodox Christian elements.

The result is a tradition that is recognizably related to the Slavic folk magic traditions of the surrounding peoples but that is distinctly Romanian in its overall character. The Romanian Rusalii are not the same as the Russian Rusalki. The Romanian Strigoi is not the same as the Serbian vampire. The Romanian Vrăjitoare is not the same as the Russian znakharka. Each has been shaped by the specific history, the specific landscape, and the specific cultural synthesis of the Romanian tradition into something that is both related to and distinct from its Slavic counterparts.

This capacity for absorption and transformation — for taking in elements from the surrounding cultures and reshaping them into something distinctly Romanian — is one of the most characteristic features of the Romanian tradition, and one of the things that makes it most interesting to students of comparative folklore and magical practice.