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Holy Madness: the Shock Tactics and
Radical Teachings of Crazy-Wise Adepts, Holy Fools, and Rascal Gurus
The Mystery of Light: The Life and
Teaching of Omraam Mikhaёl Aïvanhov
Georg Fuerstein
Holy Madness. Arkana:
Penguin Books USA Inc., 375 Hudson St., New York, NY 10014, 1992 [1991 edition
by Paragon House], 296 pages, ISBN 0-14-019.370-7 (pbk.).
Mystery of Light. Integral
Publishing, P.O. Box 1030, Lower Lake, CA 95457, 1998, 246 pages, ISBN
0-941255-51-4 (pbk.)
Reviewed by:
Joseph P. Szimhart
This review of Holy Madness has lingered in my mind for
ten years after I first read the 1992 Arkana edition by Georg Feuerstein, Ph.D..
My interest renewed recently when a client asked me about an obscure, Bulgarian
spiritual teacher, Omraam Mikhaёl Aïvanhov (1900-1984). In my research I
discovered that Feuerstein wrote a promotional biography about Aïvanhov
published in 1998 by a company founded by the author. Feuerstein is an
internationally known researcher and promoter of Yoga as well as an historian of
religion with thirty books to his credit. He runs his
Yoga Research and Education Center
recently relocated to the Mt. Lassen area of Northern California. His interest
in gurus goes further than merely academic—he indicates a youthful pattern of
serious seeking for a teacher in his own right. His connection with Aïvanhov
stems from his chance encounter with a book he read by the deceased Bulgarian in
1989 and liked very much. As a result of Feuerstein’s quest for more books he
met one of Aïvanhov’s disciples, Therese Boni, who helped guide the biography,
The Mystery of Light, and became his “spiritual friend.”
During 1984 Aïvanhov was on a speaking tour around the USA.
Feuerstein had heard nothing of him at that time, but had he known, he says, “I
would gladly have journeyed from my home in Northern California to see him.” (Mystery,
xv). In 1984 I had heard nothing of Aïvanhov either, but I had seen posters in
Santa Fe, New Mexico, my home at the time, advertising his lecture tour. Santa
Fe then, as it has been for a century, was a Mecca for artists as well as for a
polyglot of spiritual seekers, traveling gurus, and New Age groups. When I
arrived there in 1975 fresh out of art school, I became one of Santa Fe’s
seekers, looking especially into the Theosophy schools that had influenced many
pioneer modern artists. Subsequently I read works from the Philosophical
Research Society, the Agni Yoga Society, the “I AM” Activity, the Rosicrucians,
the Summit Lighthouse and other schools that claimed to represent the teachings
of the arcane White Brotherhood. After some years of hopeful if
problematic involvement, I became a critic of the entire Theosophical cult of
Masters by 1981. Meeting the living Aïvanhov, a “living master” from that same
system (one that he named Fraternité Blanche Universelle (FBU) after his
master’s group, Byalo Bratstvo (Bulgarian), a.k.a. the Universal White
Brotherhood, impressed me quite differently than it might have Feuerstein. I
was curious about Aïvanhov’s view and that he established L’École Divine around
1948 as belonging to his FBU (Mystery, 45).*
Feuerstein wrote Holy Madness around eight years before
his publication of The Mystery of Light. In the former effort he
critically explores a host of cult leaders, crazy-wise adepts and gurus while
examining the whys and wherefores of their influence. His knowledge of this
fringe world is impressive—few religious scholars have bothered to take the
recent rascal guru movements seriously, as they represent a kind of carnival
sideshow in the history of religions. Due to my odd profession as a
deprogrammer and cult specialist that spans over two decades, I have
observed this sideshow as much out of career necessity as personal curiosity. I
was very familiar with nearly every one of the main characters in his
discussion, among them Gurdjieff, Da Love Ananda, Aleister Crowley, Bhagwan
Rajneesh/Osho, and Chögyam Trungpa, but I was not familiar with Lee Lozowick.
Feuerstein mentions dozens of other characters from eastern and western
traditions, and he has a facility to support his arguments, quoting from the
likes of K. Wilber, E. Underhill, E. Vaughn, W. B. Yeats, R. C. Zaehner, Plato,
and St. Paul. His text examines issues of cultism and brainwashing, but
questions the accuracy of certain anti-cult groups that see only harm in the
tactics of rascal gurus.
Holy Madness is written in three
parts: In “The Phenomenon” the author introduces the reader to these teachers
with enough description to give the novice at least some idea of the crazy
territory. In this book Feuerstein does not hold back when reporting on the
abuse of sex, drugs, and power by these adepts. His references are many and
solid. In “Part Two: The Context” he takes us into more difficult territory as
he looks into the spiritual practices with chapter headings that include: “The
Guru: The License to Kill”, “Discipleship: Spiritual Cloning or Brainwashing?”
and “God, Enlightenment, and Ego-Death.” In Part Three he examines “The
Significance” and enters into a more personal reflection in which he gropes
quite eloquently for meaning in all this mess. Feuerstein states on page 188:
“Few of the groups or cults that have sprung up since the 1960s, which purport
to break away from the mediocrity of mainstream religion and culture, are truly
the alternative altars they claim to be. In most cases, it is a matter of old
wine in new, sometimes quite weirdly shaped bottles.” Perhaps he meant
wineskins, but his intent is nevertheless well taken.
Feuerstein is interested in the phenomena of “real
self-transformation” as represented both by the western
(Jewish/Christian/Muslim) mystical traditions and, what appears to be his
personal leaning, the enlightenment process that pervades Buddhism, and more so
the Sanatana Dharma of the Hindu-Vedic tradition. He is, after all, a teacher
and researcher of Yoga. He represents a few of these odd teachers in a positive
light, among them Meher Baba, Ramana Maharshi, Sri Aurobindo, and Aïvanhov. The
latter he quotes once: “Everyone has his own path, his mission, and even if you
take your Master as a model, you must always develop in a way that suits your
own nature” (Holy Madness, 144). Feuerstein very much wants the reader to
grasp that despite the wicked behavior of some of these crazy-wise gurus, they
are onto something—they are after all “wise.” If nothing else, teachers like Da
Love Ananda and Gurdjieff (who are pathological in their abusive teaching
methods both from his description and their history) still serve a valuable
function, according to the author. “Crazy-wise adepts and eccentric masters in
this book.…still serve a useful societal function: to act as mirrors of the
“insanity” of consensus reality and as beacons of that larger Reality [sic] that
we habitually tend to exclude from our lives” (Holy Madness, 259). Herein
the author hints loudly as to his adopted philosophy, which explains how and why
he finds value where I do not—my weltanschauung differs from his.
Let me try to briefly elaborate. This difference goes beyond
the social psychological approach differences, say, between sociologists of
religion who study these groups “objectively” and mental health workers or
therapists who assist former members of abusive teachers. To say that there are
different narratives between the anthropological model and the medical model is
another way to state the above. But Feuerstein is after something more radical
and spiritual. Persons as well as whole cultures adopt world views that become
essential operating mythologies or cosmologies—frameworks that guide their
thoughts about life experience, birth, death, and afterlife. When he talks about
“that larger Reality,” he specifically accepts the grand scheme of Advaita
philosophy, the one that sees the essential “self” as Atman, which is identical
with the ground of being, Brahman. In other words, the human life force in its
essence is uncreated and co-exists in eternity, albeit trapped in a “fallen” or
corrupted form—in “ignorance.” Enlightenment is that state of awareness, not
unlike gnosis, that mystically absorbs us in that consciousness of That.
Once absorbed or identified with the divine state
(atman/brahman), the yogi is said to tap paranormal abilities or siddhis.
Though warnings about the pursuit of psychic powers, magick, siddhis, and
rituals to create miracles abound in every sophisticated religion, the
temptation is great to “prove” that someone is enlightened or sanctified because
they demonstrate paranormal abilities. Both oral and written narratives about
nearly all the crazy adepts mentioned by Feuerstein in Holy Madness and
in Mystery of Light flaunt the miraculous powers of the masters. I am not
ignoring the Jewish stories about Moses or the miracle stories about Jesus. But
let’s go on.
Another world view, one that infuses mainline Jewish,
Christian and Muslim philosophy, holds that persons are created in time and can
be lifted by God into a co-eternal state through submission to the divine will
and acceptance of God’s great gift of life. This is commonly known as theism,
the “Western” alternative to Feuerstein’s monism. To proclaim the kind of
Self-realization a yogi claims would be blasphemy to a theist: the creature
cannot claim to be the Creator. Herein lies much of the contention between
Theists and Monists—the theist might argue that if God wills the disciple or
saint to have miraculous power, he or she will demonstrate it. The monist might
argue that there are steps or initiations one can take to attain the siddhis,
that in fact we already have these powers but our ignorance is in the way. The
skeptic might argue that they are both full of idealistic claptrap. There are
other world views, however we will ignore protestations by neo-Gnostics or the
New Age argument that Jesus really wanted each of us to proclaim to be God. We
will also ignore the overworked, naïve belief of the liberal seeker who blathers
that all paths eventually lead to the same goal. Feuerstein is not naïve,
but he does appreciate philosophical kinsmen and that is why, I believe, he
wrote such a kind biography promoting Omraam Mikhaёl Aïvanhov in The Mystery
of Light.
When I met Aïvanhov in 1984 I did not speak with him. I spoke
with some of his disciples and I heard him lecture. He struck me at first as an
elegant character attired in a white suit, sporting long white hair and beard,
and carrying an ornamental cane. He wore large gold rings on his pinky fingers.
He appeared short to me (I’m 5’ 10 “), but he definitely seemed larger than life
to his devotees. His English was poor and he apologized for that. Nevertheless,
after a devotee gave a proud introduction and a small choir sang two Bulgarian
folk songs, Aïvanhov pontificated for nearly three hours. I left after one hour
to get some coffee and to peruse one of his books. I returned for the final
half-hour or so. By the time I returned, fully 80% of the several hundred
members of the audience had vacated the auditorium, many of whom had given the
requested $2 donation. In a word Aïvanhov was boring. Despite his pedantic style
and thickly accented English I managed to grasp much of what I heard as he
reiterated arcane ideas common to the Theosophical theater of teachings
resembling those of Rudolf Steiner and Rosicrucianism.
I purchased and read two of his more popular (among devotees)
books, but I have since thrown them away. All I have is a few sheets of notes I
took after the lecture and from the books. I did write that Aïvanhov teaches
that honey bees were a gift from the planet Venus (Aïvanhov, Vol.1, p.48), and
that he believed in an extensive and ancient underground civilization: “the
center of the Earth is the home of the extraordinary culture of the Agarthians”
(Aïvanhov, Vol.1, p. xviii). Within the Theosophical milieu, these are not
unusual beliefs. Feuerstein traces the roots of the Agarthian myth in a section
describing some of Aïvanhov’s troubles with the law—in 1947 he was accused of
espionage in France and served two years of a four-year sentence. The incident
was bizarre; a Cuban occultist who called himself “The King of the World” and
who was an Aïvanhov adversary, Cherenzi Lind, allegedly started a campaign
against Aïvanhov. Women filed complaints of sexual impropriety against Aïvanhov,
thus precipitating his arrest. Feuerstein reports the group version that
Aïvanhov was framed. Later a 1950 French news article exonerated Aïvanhov, and
his name was officially cleared in 1962. Feuerstein gingerly insinuates that
Agartha is a real place and reports that Lind claimed to be from there.
I mention this because Feuerstein seems to me to bend and
twist page after page to make Aïvanhov into a sage and heroic figure and not
appear delusional and racist. Then again maybe I bend and twist to try to adjust
my impression of Aïvanhov, one I formed nearly two decades ago. Aïvanhov was
born in 1900 in Macedonia; his home village was burned by Greeks in 1907; his
father died when he was nine; and he had his first spiritual ecstasy at age 16.
He experimented with color effects on his psyche and with trance states. He
claimed his room once flooded with a mystical, purple light. He discovered that
he had psychic abilities: At one of his talks he apparently crippled a friend by
psychic power, then released him from the affliction. As if these were
supernatural powers, Feuerstein mentions a few other demonstrations of
Aïvanhov’s magic, but in every case I found alternative, more prosaic
explanations: Stage magic, autosuggestion, hypnosis, and plain delusional
memories both in guru and disciple.
Do I believe that these psychic powers or miracle workers
exist? I can tell you that I have known and counseled several individuals who
told me of even more profound shamanic powers than anything I read about
Aïvanhov. Some of their stories were inexplicable and I had no reason to doubt
them. However, psychic powers, if real, are fickle at best and there is no
reason to believe that shamans who supposedly demonstrate these powers are holy,
dependable, or sane. In any case, Aïvanhov did resort to the same mantra magic
used by most Theosophical cults, particularly the “I AM” Activity and Church
Universal and Triumphant, whose students and former devotees will easily
recognize the following example:
Sixth Exercise: Kneeling down on one knee, bring both
hands up to your face and then move them away from you in a movement similar
to the breast stroke, saying, “May all the enemies of the Universal White
Brotherhood be routed, defeated and dispersed, for the Glory of God!” (6
times). The enemies of the Universal White Brotherhood are not human beings
but are dark forces, ill-intentioned spirits that invade humans in order to
destroy the divine work. You have every right to chase them, you can even
say, “may they be struck down, ground to bits, annihilated!” They have no
right to undermine the Light. (Aïvanhov, 1982. A New Earth, Vol.
XIII, 198-199)
There are pages of these magic mantra exercises, most of them
for healing and good fortune.
In 1917 Aïvanhov met his “master,” Peter Deunov (1864-1944), a
guru he served and emulated all his life. Raised by a father who was an Orthodox
priest with radical views, Deunov studied medicine and theology in the United
States and in 1895 he returned to Bulgaria, where he published his dissertation
on “Science and Education.” Steeped in Theosophy and Gnostic (Bogomil
derivative) ideology, Deunov created his White Brotherhood movement in
1900. His theosophy was “Christ” centered echoing earlier Rosicrucian movements
and the later Anthroposophy of Rudolf Steiner. Most concurrent versions of
theosophy emphasized a more oriental bias with foundation myths featuring
Buddhist and Hindu masters. Deunov may have gathered up to 40,000 followers at
the peak of his movement according to Feuerstein (Mystery, 25).
Aïvanhov became Deunov’s principle disciple by 1937 when he
moved to France to extend the movement. In 1959 Mikhaёl Aïvanhov traveled to
India, met with “various masters” and claimed he met the legendary (I say
fictional) adept Babaji (This “god” was popularized in Swami Paramahansa
Yogananda’s Autobiography of a Yogi published long before Mikhaёl
Aïvanhov’s India sojourn). One master Aïvanhov met apparently gave him his
moniker Omraam, a combination of the mantra Om and the divine name Ram. This
master was purportedly none other than Neemkaroli Baba, popularized later by the
American guru of LSD fame, Dr. Richard “Ram Dass” Alpert. This represents a
departure from his master, Deneuv. Feuerstein reports group estimates that
Aïvanhov’s following (1998) approached 10,000 worldwide. That is a considerable
loss from his master’s numbers in 1944.
The Fraternité Blanche Universelle (FBU) may be in
decline, as movements that depend on charismatic leaders tend to go after the
guru dies, but this does not prevent self-proclaimed upstarts from revitalizing
and refining the cult. Currently I’m tracking one communal group out of Quebec,
Cite Ecologique de l'Ere de Verseau (Ecological City of the Age of Aquarius),
that recently relocated a few dozen followers to Florida. Unlike most FBU
devotees, the Cite Ecologique group lives communally and it hawks standard New
Age products through members and on a
web site that
makes no mention of the group. Another Michael, a Michel de Cornellier, leads
and founded it around two decades ago. De Cornellier was a gym teacher. Its
primary texts are the writings of Mikhaёl Aïvanhov in French. Controversy
follows this sect regarding their strict parochial treatment of children, racist
and elitist practices, and complaints from former members who allege undue
influence to gain donations (The Gazette, May 26, 1990, Montreal). But
that takes us off my topic.
Of the two books, I think Holy Madness would be a
worthwhile read for any student of the new religions and cults whether or not
you share the author’s valuation. The presentation on Omraam Mikhaёl Aïvanhov
however is overly apologetic and leaves much back-stage information out. My one
experience with Aïvanhov and his devotees is enough to convince me that the guru
and his cult are more problematic than Feuerstein likes to imagine. One couple I
interviewed after Omraam’s lecture is illustrative. The young lady, a devotee,
was clearly smitten with the man, even saluting him with raised right hand as
all devotees did during his final blessing. Her boy friend, like me, just stood
there watching. We may have been the only two who did so among the thirty or so
folks left, most of whom were Aïvanhov’s entourage and choir. I asked the young
man what he thought of it: “Boring,” he said out of earshot of his smiling girl
friend.
*For those readers unaware of this
divine White Brotherhood, it is basically a heavenly or metaphysical hierarchy
of “ascended” beings, angels, gods, and goddesses who guide the progress of the
human race. White purportedly stands for the pure white light that these beings
emanate both literally (in case you ever meet one!) and symbolically as a sign
of their spiritual attainment. Each Theosophical group expresses its unique myth
on the Brotherhood, a.k.a. the Masters or the Hierarchy.
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