This appeared in
Asiaweek in 1997 April
Note: Asiaweek was taken over by Time and stopped
publication on 17th Dec 2001.
Archives are available at Asiaweek 95-01
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A Test of Faith
Indias godmen
and godwomen wield astonishing power. Some
people want to take it away from
them By Arjuna Ranawana
THE LIVING GODS
ARRIVAL is nigh, and several
thousand devotees are sitting expectantly in the ashram
hall, men on one side, women on the other. No one talks.
The only movement is a boy dressed all in white, a mere
dot in the cavernous room. With a feather duster he is
sweeping the black, marble floor. Then the music begins,
soft Carnatic rhythms issuing from the loudspeakers. A
waifish man with an Afro appears. Satya Sri Sai Baba has
arrived to demonstrate his daily morning miracle.
The Baba moves slowly
and the seated devotees hold up envelopes containing
petitions, requesting favors for themselves or loved
ones. For the chosen, the Baba has a kind word, for some
a nod, for the rest a smile. Only the very lucky merit a
miracle. A middle-aged man is summoned from the throng.
The Baba speaks a phrase or two, turns his palm down and
traces circles in the air. Thumb and middle- fingers join
and gray ash appears to flow from their tips. The
ecstatic devotee receives the gift with cupped hands, and
the Baba continues down the line, proffering the Vibhuti
holy ash to several others and flicking the residue over
the heads of the crowd. Four times that day he will
conjure up ash: once for the women, once for the men;
once in the morning, once in the evening.
For five millennia
godmen like Sai Baba have endured as pillars of Hindu
society. There are thousands of godmen and godwomen in
India today. For the most part they content themselves
with providing spiritual advice in homes and temples. But
some have grander designs. These gurus claim divine
powers and the ability to alter the natural course of
events. Regular folk seek them out for spiritual advice,
healing and favors. The high and mighty visit them, too.
Politicians ask for support on the campaign trail.
Bureaucrats drop by for career advice. Businessmen ask
for help with the bottom line.
People whose
professions depend on a high degree of uncertainty, such
as politicians and businessmen, are the most ardent
devotees, says psychoanalyst Sudhir Kakkar. Some
gurus wield considerable influence over public figures.
Too much so, perhaps; an especially potent godman
apparently helped select cabinet ministers. Then there
are the so-called rationalists who say that all gurus are
perpetuating a massive fraud on their followers. These
guru-busters travel India, trying to embarrass and unmask
the godmen in front of their adoring flocks.
*****
For a purveyor of
miracles, it is perhaps no surprise that Sai Babas
birth was one, too. His mother was fetching water, so the
legend goes, when a blue ball of fire emerged from the
village well and entered her stomach. She fainted and
awoke to find herself pregnant. The child arrived on Nov.
23, 1926; he was named Satyanarayana Raju. By his 10th
birthday, the boy had become Sai Baba and was telling
everyone he was the reincarnation of a 19th-century
godman named Shirddhi Sai Baba. The original godman was a
Hindu, raised a Muslim. A respected humanist, he sought
to bring together people of the two faiths and is to this
day worshipped as saint in Maharashtra state. Sai Baba
continues his tradition.
Some 40 years ago, Sai
Baba founded the Sai Ashram in Puttuparthi, a village in
the Anantupur region of eastern Andhra Pradesh state. The
Prashanti Nilayam, or Abode of Peace, as the ashram is
called, feeds and houses thousands. The Babas own
residence is a mix of palace and temple, adorned with
mythological Hindu figures and south Indian motifs. A big
semi-circular balcony juts from Sai Babas bedroom,
like a prop from a kitschy Hindi film.
The Anantpur region is
arid, and farmers traditionally have eked out a living
growing peanuts. But the godman has ushered in
prosperity. In the last 25 years Puttuparthi has become a
sizable market town that caters to visiting devotees. New
apartment blocks and plush condominiums seem to open
daily. An airstrip cuts through the barren soil. There is
no other industry, and if not for Sai Baba, this would
have been just another obscure corner of rural India.
The Ashram is run by
the volunteers or Seva Dal. Every fortnight
the 25 Sai Trusts around India send 2,000 such men and
women to work at the premises. All devotees, they are
efficient and work for free. They wear spotless white,
with colored scarves around their necks to indicate their
place of origin. They are firm, and if necessary, violent
custodians who enforce an iron discipline within the
ashram walls. Devotees aiming to catch a glimpse of the
Baba are body-searched, their bags and other belongings
taken away and stowed in a safe room. No one dares to
stand in the godmans presence.
The ashramites live
simply, dressing in white and eating vegetarian food. The
godman wears heavy saffron silk. A BMW sedan and
Mercedes-Benz limousine sit in his garage. Both vehicles,
say the ashram workers, were donated. The Baba does not
own anything, and it is his custom to use the cars for a
few months and then give them away. Usually the devotees
get their autos back and turn them into temples.
No other godman can
claim a larger following of powerful people. Among Sai
Babas most ardent devotees: Indian President
Shankar Dayal Sharma, PM H.D. Deve Gowda, former PM P.V.
Narasimha Rao and high-flying ex-election commissioner
T.N. Seshan. All attend major functions at Prashanti
Nilayam and rarely miss the Babas birthday.
When the president comes, he bends down and touches
the feet of the Baba, says devotee Ventkatesh
Naidu. What signal do you think it sends when the
highest in the land pays obeisance to Sai Baba? Surely
the entire government machinery would think twice before
going against him.
There are others too
senior civil servants, top-ranking journalists,
even renowned scientists. P. Venkataraman, who for many
years ran Indias atomic research program, is a
devotee. (Not that he allowed me to quote a single part
of an hour-long interview.) Another is cricketer Sunil
Gavaskar; he recently vowed to hold a cricket match every
year to mark the godmans birthday. In Sri Lanka,
where millions worship Sai Baba, family members of
ex-president J.R. Jayewardene are followers.
Jayewardenes younger brother Harry died in the
ashram. Current Sri Lankan PM Sirimavo Bandaranaike, 80,
is also a believer and despite her age and ailments, flew
in to Puttuparthi last year to pay homage.
Sai Babas clout
has brought services to Puttuparthi that rival larger
Indian cities. A multi-million-dollar super
specialty hospital near the ashram provides free
care to thousands. Rich donors provided the funds. The
doctors work for free. Sai Baba has mobilized millions to
bring safe drinking water to local people. His Sai Trust
runs a local university; the godman delivers the annual
convocation address. The Trust supplements primary and
secondary schools throughout India; Sai Babas
teachings are part of the curriculum.
Sai Babas power
flows from his devotees faith in his miracles.
Retired railway official T. Murthi recalls the moment 21
years ago that he became convinced that Sai Baba was God.
On the night of Maha Shivratri, the festival for
Shiva, my son dreamt he saw Sai Baba summoning him to
Puttuparthi. He was about 12 and hadnt seen the
Baba before. We came to Puttuparthi the next Maha
Shivratri. In the hall where we were waiting to see him,
the Baba came directly to us. My son held out his school
book and the Baba drew the holy letter Aum on it. It was
a miracle.
Marina Klemme, a
32-year-old Argentinean flight attendant recalls dreaming
that the Baba told her not to take a certain flight.
There was a crash. I may have died, she said.
That was seven years ago, and Klemme has visited the
ashram three times since. He saved me, she
says. He is God. Another devotee, American
biochemist Max Lopez-Leban, 34, is not so sure. He
watched Sai Baba conjure ash. He saw a partially
paralyzed woman walk after the guru held her hand.
Its true he is an enormously powerful
man, says Lopez-Leban. But how could anyone
be God?
For select audiences,
Sai Baba holds special performances. One time election
commissioner Seshan watched his one-of-a-kind ring
materialize from thin air. Im an educated
man, he says. I believe what I see, and I
have seen the power of Sai Baba. Some say the Baba
can move objects from one place to another.
Given his apparent
powers, is it any wonder that Sai Babas authority
is unquestioned in many parts of India? His grip on
Puttuparthi became clear in October when a Japanese
godman, who calls himself Shakti Pat Guru (aka Takahashi
Koji), visited Sai Ashram with 28 of his followers; they
boasted that their guru could do anything Sai Baba could.
Then they distributed leaflets asking Sai Babas
devotees to attend a sermon by their guru right
inside the Babas ashram. The Seva Dal volunteers,
some armed with sticks, escorted them outside. A month
later, 142 followers of the Japanese godman checked into
local hotels this time without their guru. Barely
were their bags unpacked before the police came knocking;
they were on the next flight.
Compare Sai Baba to
other godmen at your peril. The Baba will not like
you if you say he is like the other gurus and
Sadhus, said devotee Ventkatesh ominously. The
others may not have the power of Sai Baba, but some come
close. Like Amritanandamayi, a female Baba-in-the-making.
Already gathering a national flock, the 43-year-old
godwoman has an ashram in southern Kerala state.
Thousands come to seek her blessing, most of them men.
They lay their heads on her lap and she strokes their
hair. The devotees believe she can revitalize them.
She has great sexual power, says K.S. Nair.
Shes the complete Goddess, who has infinite
love combining that of wife and mother.
Amritanandamayis
real name is Sudhamani; she was born in a fishing
community. Like Sai Baba, she performs
miracles. Many Indians believe those born
under a combination of stars called Manglik make unlucky
spouses. One Manglik must wed another. To do otherwise
means instant death for the non-Manglik partner.
Amritanandamayi has built her reputation on the claim
that she can ward off the curse. Women without children
also appeal to her; many say they became pregnant after
spending the required two weeks in the ashram.
In Kerala,
Amritanandamayi has become a potent social and political
figure, though she shrewdly avoids overt dabbling in
politics. Ex-Chief Minister A.K. Antony, a Roman
Catholic, is a devotee. One time, Amritanandamayi headed
off a confrontation between Antonys party and the
opposition. She is also behind the local ban on Arrak
liquor, as well as high taxes on other spirits. In that
endeavor, at least, the Catholic Church has demonstrated
enthusiastic support.
There is no evidence
that Amritanandamayi or Sai Baba have directly interfered
in government, at the local or national level. Nor are
there allegations that they enriched themselves by using
their powers. They have been careful to stick to their
traditional roles, a crucial ingredient of their success.
According to custom, gurus must renounce all worldly
goods and pleasures, and certainly not seek political
power. It is an early social system of checks and
balances. Scholar T.V.R. Shenoy holds up Mahatma Gandhi
as an example of how it works. Westerners were
perplexed as to how this man who lived in poverty and
held no office had so much power over the people,
he says. We were not.
Not all godmen can
resist the allure of power. One could be Chandraswamy, a
47-year-old guru who has many friend in lofty places.
Virtually the entire Rao Cabinet attended
Chandraswamys 44th birthday bash at his opulent
Delhi temple. It was a bipartisan affair; the leaders of
several opposition parties were there, too. As the
spiritual guide to ex-PMs Rao and Shekhar, Chandraswamy
had the ears of those who mattered. He wielded
extrordinary influence in New Delhi. In 1994, he
apparently ended a major dispute between the Election
Commission and the Rao government. He is also said to
have determined who got cabinet posts. Not surprisingly,
he was courted by businessmen wanting favors from the
Indian government, hobnobbing with the likes of Saudi
arms merchant Adnan Khashoggi.
Chandraswamys
power did not extend to the legal realm, however. Last
year London businessman Lakhubhai Pathak alleged the
godman cheated him of $100,000, and police are
investigating. According to the complaint Chandraswamy
promised to help Pathak secure a contract to supply paper
pulp to the Indian government. Pathak says he gave
$100,000 to the godman after he arranged a meeting with
Rao, then foreign minister, in a New York hotel. The pulp
contract never materialized.
Rao is a co-defendant
in the case. He and the godman also allegedly conspired
to defame Vishwanat Pratap Singh, another ex-PM, by
opening a foreign exchange account in a Caribbean tax
haven in the name of Singhs son Ajeya. Singh says
it was a ruse to show hed stashed illegal cash
offshore. The godman was jailed for a few weeks and was
freed on bail this year. The case continues.
*****
The guru-busters
office is a stark contrast to Sai Babas opulent
palace and Chandraswamys ornate temple. From a
dusty pigeon hole in Delhis downmarket Mayur Vihar
district, Sanal Edamaruku leads the Indian Rationalists
Association. His crusade is to discredit the gurus and
everything they stand for. These men and women are
charlatans, he says, preying on the
gullibility of ordinary people. The chief
rationalist has publicly challenged Sai Baba to prove his
divinity and has offered a million rupees ($30,000) to
anyone who can prove to have miraculous powers. For the
most part, Sai Baba has ignored the rationalists. His
only comment came in 1976. The dogs bark,
said the godman. But do the stars respond? Let them
criticize, it is another way of thinking about me.
While waiting for Sai
Baba to answer, Edamaruku and his small band attack other
godmen who claim supernatural powers. Recently the
rationalists attended a ceremony featuring the Balti Baba
on the terrace of a private house in Delhis tony
Maharani Bagh area. The godman placed flaming earthen
pots before the crowd and chanted mantras over them. Then
he took two in his hands to demonstrate his immunity to
heat. But Edamaruku touched the pots and found they were
cool. He challenged the Baba to pick up a hot one. The
godman was outraged, and he hurled two sizzling pots at
the interloper, missing him by inches. Then he destroyed
the rest and stormed off, screaming for water to soothe
his blistered palms. The pots had wet wheat flour
on the base, says Edamaruku. So what he
touched was quite cool.
Edamarukus
volunteers travel India performing the godmens
miracles. Edamaruku conceals hardened balls of fragrant
ash between his fingers and crushes them in his palm; the
godman does it better. Other rationalists stick needles
through their tongues and walk on burning coals.
Were trying to encourage people to have
inquiring minds, says Edamaruku. With little
effect. After the Balti Baba incident, one woman said:
It is all a question of faith. I believe in the
Babas power; he brings me peace. Swami
Agnivesh, a human-rights activist and Hindu priest,
derides the so-called miracle-mongers. If someone
has the power to walk on water, or on fire, says
Agnivesh, he would not make a public exhibition of
it to show his power. The highest is to be humble, not to
increase ones power.
Tradition is everything
in India. How people bathe, eat, worship, marry, die are
all dictated by ancient customs that have evolved over
the centuries and withstood numerous invasions. These
customs once ensured the smooth functioning of society.
Today, democracy and a liberalizing economy are straining
the old order, and yet the hallowed ways endure. In fact,
the Hindu path to spiritual elevation through meditation
and seeking inner peace is popular outside India, and the
godmen draw devotees from around the world.
*****
It has been a hot day
inside the Sai Ashram. Most devotees retreat to their
rooms and dorms during the hottest hours. Only the sparse
but well-staffed offices hum with activity. The Seva Dal
stand guard at their posts. Tradition, after all,
dictates this siesta. As the sun sets, the devotees sing
the melodious Bhajans in the big hall. The godman is not
among them today, although he often joins in. There is
peace here, and a sense of camaraderie that seems warm
and genuine in the soft light. Ventkatesh turns to me and
asks Arjunji, you are not a believer are you?
I do not answer, but I feel the weariness of my body ebb
away in the hypnotically beautiful music.
Arjuna
Ranawana is Asiaweeks India correspondent in New
Delhi
This appeared in Asiaweek http://www.asiaweek.com/asiaweek/97/0404/is1.html
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