A postwar esoteric dossier in which Crowley is present without being named, Paracelsus supplies the old thunder, and sexual-mystical anxiety finds a surprisingly efficient sales department.
Waldemar made his first contact with “Frater” [sic] Anita Borgert of the Ordo Templi Orientis in Stein/Appenzell on October 12th 1955, using his “name in the World of Maya”. He owned some rare Crowley manuscripts, over which he expressed his enthusiasm.
Without being asked, he promptly offered instruction in “Love without coitus troubles”: in the evening before falling asleep, one should say, “Love is in me and around me. It fills my being with purity and joy.” By this he presumably meant asceticism — or at any rate some variety of sex without ejaculation.
He signed at least one of his letters as a 5°=6°.
He also wrote books containing his formulæ “for love without the worry of coitus”, as well as for self-confidence, potency, attracting love, and yoga. Waldemar’s Electro-Acupuncture Apparatus, Gold-Plated Back-rollers, Sunproof Sheets, Oxygen-Ionising Equipment, and Foot-Reflexers were all available for purchase at this time.
It is striking that Waldemar never dropped the name Aleister Crowley in his books, although he dealt extensively with the individual practices of sexual magic, even quoted Crowley’s Liber AL without mentioning the author, and referred to the Thelemic gods Nuit and Hadit [e.g. in Magie der Geschlechter, 1st edition, Munich 1958, p. 435].
Waldemar’s works teem with erotic themes:
Waldemar’s writings offer “formulas for love without the worry of coitus”, self-confidence, potency, attraction, and yoga — mostly packaged in the form of simple affirmations and exercises. His sexual magic aims to safeguard creative power from “waste,” echoing Paracelsus’s stern warning against the “corrupted salt” of imagined or squandered semen. [Quoted from Charles Waldemar: Magie der Geschlechter, Munich 1958, p. 277; Paracelsus, De origine morborum invisibilium, Lit. III.]
Waldemar depicts “gender equality” as a looming threat, casting the modern woman as a nightmare for men and an idol for her female peers.
Women assuming rôles as prime ministers or astronauts strike him as anomalies that displace the age-old ideal of the loving, maternal woman.
He envisions a dystopian future in which women, at long last, take revenge for centuries of “male sexual compulsion” — by unleashing promiscuity, objectification, and mass suggestion upon the unsuspecting world.
Waldemar diagnoses what he sees as the soulless sexuality of modernity: leading inevitably to frigidity, depression, “narcissistic partnerships”, and a rise in homosexuality, particularly among women, which he finds “frightening”.
“Sexocracy”, artificial insemination, abortion, and “premeditated child murder” — as he styles birth control — threaten the sacred image of the “faithful and blessed mother”. Instead, he foresees a world where the maternal ideal is supplanted by the “intelligent brute with muscles”.
Despite this gloomy diagnosis, Waldemar offers an esoteric-evolutionary doctrine of hope:
Waldemar integrates Crowley’s sexual magic, Nuit and Hadit, Liber AL, and the moonchild concept — rebranded as “Sonnenkind”, sunchild — yet carefully avoids mentioning Crowley’s name. Instead, he prefers to cite Eliphas Lévi or Paracelsus. The latter, with his doctrine of “corrupted semen”, provides the pseudo-scientific esoteric scaffolding for Waldemar’s sexual ethics.
Waldemar’s worldview is not just teaching but product line: electro-acupuncture devices, gold-plated back rollers, sunproof sheets, oxygen-ionising machines, tape recordings, foot reflex stimulators — all marketed as magical aids to life, embedded in his sexual-mystical philosophy.
Waldemar exemplifies a strand of esoteric cultural critique that sees itself as an alternative to modernity. His works combine theosophy, popular sexual-magic literature, and cultural-pessimist fantasies lamenting the “decline of gender order”.
He merges occult asceticism, magical discipline, and gender utopia with commercial acumen, transforming his teachings into products and guides. In his work one hears the echo of Paracelsus’s dread of “corrupted semen”, as well as Crowley’s sexual magic — the latter discreetly disguised to project an air of original genius.
His vision: a spiritualised, androgynous humanity that, after overcoming its “demonic drives”, will dissolve into cosmic love and gender reconciliation. An esoteric utopia — with a distinct aftertaste of sexual repression and antimodern resentment.
According to Oscar R. Schlag, Charles Waldemar had published an authoritative book on cults under the pseudonym Gerhard Zacharias.