Throughout the Middle Ages, Jews bore a reputation as the most powerful sorcerers in Europe. As scholar undefined Trachtenberg documented in his 1939 study, this belief was so widespread that kings issued decrees against Jewish magic, inquisitors hunted Jewish spell-casters, and ordinary people genuinely believed their Jewish neighbors could summon demons and brew poisons from human remains.
The accusation ran deep. In 1303, Philippe le Bel of France had to forbid the Inquisition from prosecuting Jews on charges of sorcery—not because he doubted the charges, but because he wanted to retain control over "his Jews." A century later, Pope Alexander V reversed course, ordering inquisitors in Avignon and Provence to pursue "Jews who practised magic, invokers of demons, and augurs." The charge of sorcery became entangled with the blood libel and accusations of well-poisoning, especially during the Black Death of 1348-1349, when entire Jewish communities were massacred on the theory that their incantations had caused the plague.
Where did this legend come from? Trachtenberg argues it was a projection. Medieval Europeans practiced enormous amounts of folk magic themselves—love spells, healing charms, protective amulets. But Jews possessed something that seemed uniquely dangerous: a tradition of sacred names, Hebrew incantations, and angelic invocations that stretched back to the Talmud and beyond. The Hebrew language itself was considered magical, and the fact that Jews guarded their mystical traditions closely only fueled suspicion.
The irony, as Trachtenberg shows, is that Jewish magical practice was far more restrained than the wild accusations suggested. Jews did practice certain forms of protective magic—amulets, divine name invocations, demon-warding rituals—but these operated within a religious framework, always invoking God's authority rather than defying it. The gap between the legend and the reality tells us more about medieval fears than about actual Jewish practice.