WASHINGTON — A brutal conflict in Europe was fresh in people’s minds and the race for the White House turned ugly as the United States was roiled by rumors of secret societies and corruption.
It was 1800 and conspiracy theories were flourishing across America. Partisan newspapers spread stories about European elites trying to seize control of the young democracy. Preachers in New England warned of plots to abolish Christianity in favor of godlessness and depravity.
This bogeyman of the early republic was the Illuminati, a secret organization founded in Germany, dedicated to free thought and opposed to religious dogma. Despite the Illuminati’s lack of real influence in America, conspiracy theorists believed the group’s fingerprints were everywhere. They said that the manipulation of the Illuminati had caused the French Reign of Terror, the wave of executions and persecutions that followed the French Revolution. In America they feared something similar.
From the Salem, Massachusetts, witch trials to the fear of the Illuminati, from the Red Scare to the John Birch Society to QAnon, conspiracy theories have served as dark counterprogramming to the American story taught in history books. If a healthy democracy depends on the trust of its citizens, conspiracy theories show what happens when that trust begins to waver.
Change a few details, add a pizzeria, and the hysteria surrounding the Illuminati looks a lot like QAnon, the modern-day conspiracy theory that claims a powerful cabal of child-sacrificing Satanists is secretly shaping world events. Like the Illuminati craze, QAnon emerged in a time of uncertainty, polarization and mistrust.
“The more things change, the more things seem to come back,” says Jon Graham, a Vermont writer and translator who is an expert on the Illuminati and the claims that have surrounded the group for centuries. “There is the regular narrative of history. And then there is the other story – the alternative explanations for history – that never really goes away.”
Just as today, these bizarre stories often reveal deep-seated concerns that center on racial and religious conflict and technological and economic change.
The most persistent conspiracy theories can survive on the margins for decades before suddenly resurfacing with new details, villains and heroes, often at a time of social unrest or economic disruption. Sometimes these beliefs can lead to action, as on January 6, 2021, when a mob of President Donald Trump’s supporters breached the U.S. Capitol.
In America’s early days, the villain was the Illuminati.
Founded in 1776, the group was part of a craze for so-called secret societies that became fashionable in Europe. It was disbanded in 1800 and no longer had a presence in the US. Yet claims spread that Illuminati agents were working undercover to take over the federal government, ban Christianity, and promote sexual promiscuity and devil worship among young people.
The theory was picked up by the Federalist Party and played a key role in the presidential race between President John Adams, a Federalist, and Vice President Thomas Jefferson, a Democratic-Republican. Rumors circulated among the Federalists that Jefferson was an atheist who would hand over America to France if elected president.
Jefferson did indeed win, and the Federalists never fully recovered. Tales of the Illuminati waned, but soon the Freemasons emerged to take their place in the wild imaginations of early Americans.
The Freemasons counted many leading figures, including George Washington, as members. Their influence fueled rumors suggesting that the fraternal organization was a satanic conspiracy bent on ruling the world.
To understand why so many were convinced, it’s important to remember the fear that followed the American Revolution, says Jonathan Den Hartog, a historian at Samford University. Many people were unsure whether the country would survive.
“During this period, many people were very nervous. And when there is uncertainty and fear, people look for explanations,” says Den Hartog.
Both the Illuminati and the Freemasons continue to appear in conspiracy theories even today.
In the mid-19th century, thousands of Americans also joined new religious movements during the Second Great Awakening. One popular group, the Millerites, was founded by William Miller, a veteran of the War of 1812, who used numerical clues in the Bible to calculate the end of the world: October 22, 1844.
Before the appointed day, many of Miller’s followers sold or gave away their belongings, donned white clothing, and headed for high country—in some parts of Massachusetts, climbing trees on the highest hills—to hasten their reunion with God. When October 22nd was over, they came down from the hills. Some returned to their old lives. Others insisted that the end had come, but invisibly.
“It was called the ‘Great Disappointment,’” says J. Gordon Melton, a Baylor University historian and Millerite expert. “A lot of people were very disappointed, including Miller. But others just said, “Well, they just got the date.” wrong.'”
The belief that the world will soon end – or that a new era will dawn – shows up again and again in popular conspiracy theories.
QAnon supporters have long predicted a “Great Awakening” that will occur after “the storm,” when former President Trump triumphs and his enemies — including former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and actor Tom Hanks — are unmasked and possibly executed on television . Dates have been proposed for this final, bloody victory, predictions later discarded when proven incorrect.
In 2021, thousands of QAnon believers rallied in Dallas after one of their leaders predicted the return of John F. Kennedy Jr., who figures prominently in QAnon lore despite his death in 1999. Dejected believers later decided they had got their dates wrong.
Something similar happened late last year, when many conspiracy theorists claimed that a long-planned test of the emergency broadcast system would activate the chemicals in COVID-19 vaccines. Those who got the shot, according to this line of thought, would be killed or perhaps turned into zombies. It didn’t happen.
The assassination of President John F. Kennedy, along with the Vietnam War and Watergate, later set the stage for our current era of “alternative facts” by convincing large swaths of Americans that they could no longer trust their own government.
Today’s conspiracy theories reflect that same distrust and unease about the rapid pace of economic, technological and environmental change. Consider claims that the 1969 moon landing was faked, that the government covered up evidence about aliens, or that the September 11, 2001, attacks were an inside job.
The fear of 5G cell towers or vaccines containing microchips, to use two newer examples, reflects the fear of government control and new technologies. Claims that climate change is a lie provide a simple answer to a complicated, existential threat posed by people’s own behavior.
Then there’s the coronavirus pandemic, which created ideal conditions for conspiracy theories: widespread fear and economic uncertainty, a deadly threat mysteriously emanating from a geopolitical opponent, hastily created vaccines, and a controversial government response.
“COVID really turned all the dials up to 11,” said Joseph Uscinski, a University of Miami political scientist who studies belief in conspiracy theories.
The internet has made belief in conspiracy theories more visible and shareable. Trump and other politicians have learned how to exploit belief in conspiracy theories for their own purposes.
But history shows that America has endured deception, conspiracy theories and cycles of mistrust before. Den Hartog, the Samford historian, said he would like to believe the nation can do it again.
“This gives me some hope, to know that we’ve had challenges and we’ve gotten through them,” he said. “There is an American ability to catch our breath, try harder in our civilian lives and rebuild trust.”