Evil Eye: Beliefs, Superstitions, and Cultural Protection Against Malevolent Gaze

When someone says you have the evil eye, a harmful gaze believed to bring misfortune due to envy or ill will. Also known as malocchio, it’s not just folklore—it’s a living belief in over 70 countries, from Greece to Pakistan, from Mexico to the Balkans. People don’t just talk about it; they wear charms, hang symbols above doorways, and whisper protective phrases because they’ve seen—or think they’ve seen—its effects. This isn’t about fear of the unknown. It’s about how communities respond to jealousy, power imbalances, and the human need to explain bad luck.

The blue eye charm, a common talisman designed to reflect or absorb negative energy. Also known as nazar, it’s one of the most recognizable symbols tied to the evil eye. You’ll find it on necklaces in Istanbul, dangling from rearview mirrors in Beirut, stitched onto baby clothes in Sicily. It’s not decoration—it’s a tool. Similar to how people carry lucky coins or cross necklaces, the blue eye is a cultural fix for an invisible threat. Then there’s the protective amulet, a physical object worn or placed to ward off spiritual harm. Also known as talisman, it’s used across religions and regions—from the hand of Fatima in North Africa to the horn in Italy. These aren’t random trinkets. They’re responses to real social pressures: when someone stands out—through beauty, success, or even newborn health—they become targets. The evil eye gives a name to that tension.

What’s fascinating is how these beliefs connect to deeper truths. The evil eye isn’t magic. It’s social psychology dressed in tradition. It surfaces when wealth is uneven, when praise feels like a threat, when someone’s joy makes others uncomfortable. It’s why mothers in rural Greece still spit three times after complimenting a child. It’s why modern Instagram influencers post disclaimers like “no envy please” under their photos. The ritual isn’t about superstition—it’s about managing social risk.

And it’s not just about protection. The evil eye also reveals how cultures handle shame, silence, and the unspoken rules of envy. In some places, you don’t praise a new car openly—you say, “May God protect it.” In others, you tie red threads around wrists or burn herbs to cleanse the air. These aren’t quaint customs. They’re survival tactics passed down because they worked—emotionally, socially, even psychologically. People feel safer when they believe they’ve done something to block harm.

What you’ll find below isn’t a list of myths. It’s a curated collection of articles that dig into the real history, cultural weight, and human behavior behind the evil eye—and how it connects to broader themes like gender, power, and control. From ancient Etruscan tomb art that used sexuality to guide souls, to Victorian doctors pathologizing female desire, to how silence shaped sexual histories—these stories all circle back to the same question: how do societies manage what they can’t control? The evil eye is just one symbol. But the patterns behind it? They’re everywhere.