How Krampus Conquered Christmas in Texas

How Krampus Conquered Christmas in Texas
Photo by D A V I D S O N L U N A / Unsplash

A generation ago, most Americans would not have been able to tell you who Krampus was. Now, the horned figure has become almost as much a part of Christmas as Santa Claus and Frosty the Snowman.

It’s hardly surprising that Krampus would see a major resurgence here in Texas. He likely originates from Germanic Europe, which also provided many settlers to Texas in 19th Century. Krampus is not an “evil Santa,” predating most modern depictions of the jolly old elf. Instead, he is a companion to Saint Nicholas, handling the distribution of coal and switches to naughty children. In some stories, he abducts bad children

Photo courtesy of Jef Rouner

These features have turned him into fodder for horror films and added to the idea that he is a demonic counterpart to the more Christian figures of the holiday season. Dr. Heather Sullivan is a professor of literature and German culture at Trinity University in San Antonio, which saw its first Krampus parade the first week of December. Sullivan told students that if they attended they would get extra credit. Only one did, and she left quickly because of the hostility of fundamentalist Christian protesters. 

“If you look at the original stories [of Krampus], you see that Christianity has altered them dramatically,” she says. “They are pagan in origin, and through the Middle Ages you get a transformation of adding Christian motifs and demonizes witches and other figures like Krampus. The older gods and mythological figures, they didn’t use to be evil; just unknowable and powerful. Christians don’t seem to realize that this version of Krampus is heavily Christianized.”

Raging antipathy toward Krampus isn’t anything new. In Houston, Brian Arthur and Olivia Dvorak, who run the esoteric performance venue Super Happy Fun Land, started what might be the oldest continuous Krampus pub crawl in the United States in the mid-2000s. Every December, revelers dress up in horned masks and make their way through several bars. It was a good time helmed by two of the city’s most prominent weirdoes.

In 2013, though, it almost turned deadly. Their friend Homer Carroll was dressed in full Krampus cosplay. He got separated from the rest of the group at a bar, and then a group of people angry at him for dressing as “the devil” physically assaulted him. 

A decade later, they don’t have the same trouble.

“I think the appeal is that in Texas there is a cultural heritage of Czech and German, but more than that, people love wild over the top kind of things,” says Arthur. “People are more Satanic. Texans like drinking and going out and being rowdy.”

It’s not unusual for people to look backwards in times of radical upheaval and change. Over the last decade, America has seen a deadly plague, massive social change, and increasing political divisiveness. During the roaring 1920s, the idea of a universal witch-cult swept through America and Europe, while the swingin’ 1960s birthed modern Satanism and various other cults. It’s likely not a coincidence that Krampus becomes a pop culture figure during the Obama Administration and the many norms that were shattered during and after his election.

“In 2024, we see the rejection of new ideas and embrace of the old,” says Sullivan. “I do think these rituals have very good and bad implications of helping us grapple with death and winter. Change and fears about AI and technology and population and climate change, there is a lot of things that give us cause to re-examine old ideas.” 

Or, we could just be more horror-obsessed. The 2010s began a cinematic golden age of horror that is still going strong to this day. Christmas has always had horror aspects. From the gruesome dismemberment of Saint Nicholas to Scrooge’s ghosts to one of the first true slasher films ever, Black Christmas. By the 1990s and Tim Burton, Christmas and horror were as linked as egg and nog.

One person who is happy they are is the appropriately named Michael Faust, the general manager of the haunted attraction House of Torment in Austin and creative director of 13th Floor attractions in other cities. He pioneered Krampus nights at the attractions, adding the figure to their usual Halloween offerings.

“The horns and the silhouette, he’s big, imposing, and he looks cool,” says Faust. “People love adding originality. The got tired of the old fat guy. Now there’s a new icon. People are always say the 1980s are returning, but they never really left. Gremlins reminds people of Christmas, and now it’s Krampus.”

He, too sees Krampus’s popularity as being part of the change in the world.

“There is so much conflict out there,” he says. “You come in here, and it’s not so bad. We don’t traumatize you with Krampus like we try to with Halloween. People come out here and take their family photos now.”

The rise of Krampus has come from many places. The fertile Germanic heritage of Texas, a Renaissance of horror, rejection of conservative Christianity and Christianity’s subsequent backlash, embrace of old lore, and the popularization of cosplay all contributed to Krampus taking a seat at the table for Christmas dinner. Even the violence against him fuels the holiday, folding neatly into the War on Christmas while also being a very old part of the Christmas tradition.

People are looking for a new way to celebrate the midwinter festival, a tradition likely older than human language. Krampus represents a change, and that makes him a powerful symbol. 

“I think maybe it’s a pushback against Christmas and commercialism as well,” says Arthur. “There’s this constant artificial joy that’s sold to people, and maybe this is people getting back at it.”