Servant of the Lotus Feet: A Hare Krishna Odyssey
S. Gabriel Brandis
Universe,
Inc. (New York, 2004)
Reviewed by
Nori Muster
In a memoir that reads like a novel, Gabriel Brandis
recounts his experience in the Hare Krishna Movement, aka International
Society for Krishna Consciousness (ISKCON), from 1980 to 1984. The story
begins at the end of his freshman year at Bucks County Community College in
Pennsylvania. He travels to Boston College, hoping to transfer there for his
last two years. Instead of college counselors and grant administrators, he
meets Hare Krishna devotees, joins their temple on Commonwealth Avenue, and
drops out of college.
Gabriel takes some hard knocks in school that contribute
to his decision to drop out. For example, his bicycle “disappears” after his
roommate cleans out the garage, and then he is fired from his job at the
library. He comments, “I soon realized that contempt for materialism caused me
to lose my job” (p. 11). Gabriel intended to work through these setbacks and
finish college. However, what ISKCON promised was too good to turn down: a
life of spiritual bliss, free from the ordinary frustrations of the material
world.
Gabriel explains that unresolved issues with his family,
especially his parents’ divorce, made him vulnerable to joining the temple.
He describes visits with his father as “inevitable torment” (p. 9). He recalls
a story from childhood when he tried to set his father up in a fight with
another kid’s father. When his father wouldn’t fight, Gabriel recalls
thinking, “He wasn’t the tough guy with the leather strap I thought he was”
(p. 10). The reader gets the message that Gabriel’s ongoing conflict with his
father is a major factor in his need to belong to the cult.
He cites the failure of his religious Jewish upbringing
to engage him spiritually and his lifelong search for a meaningful spiritual
way of life as the third reason he was drawn into full commitment so easily.
(I joined ISKCON under a similar set of circumstances for similar reasons. I
was coming up to the end of college, still carrying grief and buried anger
over my parents’ divorce, and was not interested in the prospects of a
“material” career. Like Gabriel, I was searching for a spiritual way of life.)
Although Gabriel Brandis doesn’t come out and say it, the
book shows that ISKCON’s skill at recruiting new members often outweighs the
desires of young people to face life’s battles on their own. ISKCON appeared
to offer him a loving family of spiritual friends, great food, and answers to
all spiritual questions and longings. Like so many who joined up, Gabriel had
seen ISKCON literature in libraries and had become interested in the
philosophy before meeting ISKCON recruiters.
He meets devotees in the park, visits the temple the next
day, and stays overnight. Based on this brief encounter, he decides to drop
out of college and move in. It all happens very quickly. He comments:
I had always believed that
there are no accidents in life. Conversations with the Krishna devotees over
those past couple days led me to a transparent door; on one side was the
mundane reality of Commonwealth Avenue, and on the other the eternal glory of
the spiritual world. Having considered the situation, I decided to embrace the
monastic life (p. 22).
There may be no accidents in life, but there definitely
are traps. I know from personal experience that ISKCON is on the lookout for
spiritual seekers who appear lost. Their recruiters are trained to single such
people out and help them frame their experiences in terms of a destiny to join
up.
In the first few days after moving in, Gabriel learns the
ISKCON bathroom routines, how to wear the Indian clothes, and how to put on
the forehead markings. He begins to attend the morning program, including all
the chanting, and so on, and painfully accepts the restrictions on mixing with
the opposite sex. He also begins to accept the ISKCON indoctrination of guilt
and fear. At first he has trouble staying awake to chant, but his new bhakta
leader (mentor) gets him to believe that, “One’s ability to remain awake while
chanting is equated with how much love and devotion the worshiper has for the
blue god, Krishna” (p. 31).
Within a few days, Gabriel turns over his earthly
belongings: a silver college ring, traveler’s checks, his train ticket back to
school, and even his clothes. He says, “I expected a thank you, but it never
came” (p. 33). He also lets them shave his head. In addition, they make him
turn over his journal. He accepts it as necessary because, “By keeping a
journal now, comparing the present with the life I renounced, my elevation to
pure devotional service would be hindered” (p. 35). Gabriel does not actually
say so, but the reader gets the impression that giving up the journal is part
of ISKCON’s program to dehumanize new converts and break all connections to
their former lives. The temple authorities let him call his mother to tell her
where he is and she is devastated.
Within a week of living in the temple, Gabriel turns
nineteen. By that time he has completely morphed into an ISKCON devotee, with
all the self-deprecating attitudes of long-time followers. Of his birthday, he
writes: “Being the commemoration of the birth of my body it was of no
significance. Only the birth of Krishna’s pure devotees, so few in number, is
celebrated as an ‘Appearance Day’ ” (p. 42).
He fully buys into the guru mystique. He explains:
The mystique was that the pure
devotee could “see” his disciple at every moment as though looking into a
crystal ball. Fear of offending the spiritual master by thought, word or deed
is sufficient to keep the earnest disciple obedient (p. 59).
He learns to lie for the organization the first time he
goes out to sell books, a practice known as sankirtan. His sankirtan
leader tells him to give someone a button and say he’s raising money for a
children’s school. Gabriel asks, “Do we have a school?” He learns that the
words don’t matter. The object is to get the money, because anyone who gives
money to ISKCON will not have to go to hell. Gabriel catches on and becomes a
star sankirtan devotee through most of his four years. He comes to see
himself as a spiritual soldier “on the battlefield, preaching to the
conditioned souls, and rescuing dollars from their lustful grips” (p. 60).
Although he tells himself he is happy with his new life,
the text reveals that he is unhappy. For example, at his first ratha-yatra
cart festival, he contemplates suicide, because it is said that anyone who
dies under the ratha-yatra cart wheels goes back to Godhead.
I eyed those carnival wheels,
imagining what it would be like to lie down in the street, my neck in front of
where the wheel would pass, surrounded by dozens of chanting and dancing
devotees. Freedom from the torments of this fleshy body, and the mind’s
constant cravings would be mine. I would instantaneously become Krishna
conscious for eternity (p. 54).
The organization’s brainwashing shows in his attitudes
toward practically everything that happens. In one passage a woman devotee is
injured in a car accident and her face is permanently scarred from shattered
glass. He easily adopts the ISKCON party line:
The underlying belief was that
Rasa-Lila Devi, known for being a sincere devotee,
was too “attached” to her own beauty, so Krishna affected it for her spiritual
well-being (p. 55).
Gabriel’s portrayal is chilling, but accurate. ISKCON
trained its devotees to frame everything in terms of guilt for breaking the
rules. If someone is too attached to their own beauty, Krishna will “smash”
them. If a baby dies, it’s Krishna’s arrangement to break the parents’
material attachments, and so on. In ISKCON there is always a reason for
everything that happens, usually something that frightens people into clinging
ever more tightly to ISKCON’s shelter.
One of the most significant themes of the book is
Gabriel’s relationship to his guru, Bhavananda. Although Gabriel wants to
admire Bhavananda and put him on a pedestal, Bhavananda is thoroughly
undeserving of worship. It is obvious to the reader that Bhavananda is a fake.
(This is not reported in Servant of the Lotus Feet, but in 1985,
Bhavananda, supposedly a sannyasi (celibate priest) confessed to
forbidden active homosexuality. The ISKCON Governing Body Commission (GBC)
then ordered him to give up the company of his traveling companion and stop
giving initiations. When he ignored those orders, the GBC defrocked and
expelled him in 1987. Bhavananda later returned to ISKCON in the 1990s.)
Reading Gabriel’s account of his guru-disciple
relationship with this charlatan is hilariously horrifying. On one hand, the
disciple feels guilty over every minor infraction, such as looking at a woman
with “lust.” Meanwhile, the guru is carrying on an active sexual life and
enjoying plenty of material comforts, such as flying around the world
first-class, decorating his fingers with jeweled gold rings, and driving
around in a chauffeured white limousine.
Several of Gabriel’s references to Bhavananda make the
reader wonder whether he is purposely hinting at the guru’s peccadilloes. For
example, this is how he describes one of the other initiates: “Pradyumna, born
and raised in England, was flagrantly gay. (p. 92). In the next breath he
explains: “I couldn’t help but be jealous of Pradyumna. That frivolous fellow
always got the “special mercy” of Vishnupada’s [Bhavananda’s] private
association in his chamber” (p. 92)
Later, he follows with: “Pradyumna always made a game of
it, generating an air of mystery about his encounter[s] behind Srila
Vishnupada’s closed door” (p. 94).
Some things in ISKCON were just secret. In my research
after leaving the organization, I discovered underground cultures of both
homosexual and heterosexual activity among the sannyasis and their
associates. There was also a culture of drug use that was kept secret from the
rank and file. Gabriel is not aware of this side of ISKCON until later, when
he is deprogrammed. Even then, the deprogrammers only touch on the underlying
deceit that is now more out in the open, decades later.
As a devotee, Gabriel only knew what the leaders told him
and was not aware of details of the larger troubles plaguing ISKCON and its
leaders. His knowledge of the problems is extremely limited and naďve. For
example, there was a huge problem in New Vrindaban during those years, which
included child abuse, drug smuggling, prostitution, and murder. As a
consequence, the guru from that zone later spent twelve years in jail (1992 –
2004). One aspect of the history was that the guru used to send his followers
all over the country to do sankirtan in other gurus’ zones. When
Gabriel encountered New Vrindaban devotees in his territory at a Grateful Dead
concert in Hartford, Connecticut, he explains, “Although they were to be
respected as Krishna’s devotees they were regarded as renegades by much of the
Hare Krishna movement” (p. 65). That’s all he says about it, because that’s
all the ordinary devotees knew.
The organization was writhing with guru problems, but
Gabriel only repeats the party line: “The International Society for Krishna
Consciousness had been undergoing major internal political changes since the
‘disappearance,’" (i.e. death, for the reader unfamiliar with the jargon) of
Srila Prabhupada in 1977 (p. 67). Later he offers up this rumor with innocent
curiosity: “There was even talk that some of the spiritual masters, Krishna’s
purest devotees on earth, were living secret lives of passion and deceit” (p.
125). Later he adds, “Other spiritual masters were facing criminal charges for
serious shenanigans. One by one, the candles of pure devotional service to
Krishna were burning out” (p. 190).
In several instances, he mentions a rumor that Ramesvara,
the guru for the West Coast, was involved with prostitutes. This is the first
time I heard that rumor, even though Ramesvara was my “guru” when I was
involved. Though it later came out that Ramesvara had other problems, I never
heard that he went to prostitutes. But who knows? There used to be a saying
among fringe members that every rumor in ISKCON grows from a grain of truth.
At the end of the book, the deprogrammers show Gabriel
newspaper articles about ISKCON’s crimes. He listens to tapes and watches
videos of former devotees disclosing what they know about ISKCON’s failings.
The deprogrammers introduce Gabriel to former members who tell him what the
organization is really like. Finding out the truth about ISKCON helps Gabriel
reject his affiliation and give up the indoctrination he had accepted.
Gabriel’s crucial turning point comes way before the
deprogramming, however. It happens at the end of Part I, when his guru is
giving a class. Gabriel challenges Bhavananda with this question:
Guru-ji,
the Hare Krishna philosophy teaches that we are all individuals, and that we
each have a unique relationship with Krishna. Yet every day the devotees do
the same activities, dress the same, and eat the same. I don’t see where I am
becoming an individual? (p. 125)
Gabriel recalls: “The blue-eyed guru turned red. ‘You
Hasidic, Mayavadi
apparadhe . . . Have you no gratitude for what has been done for
you?’ ” (p. 125) Gabriel says, “I didn’t know whether to throw myself off the
rooftop, or fall at the feet of His Grace begging forgiveness” (p. 125). He
also recounts the condemnation of his peers for challenging the guru. This
encounter changes Gabriel from a submissive follower to a follower with
doubts. He begins to realize that he is an asset to the organization only as
long as he brings in money and doesn’t ask any tough questions.
He also begins to realize that he is criticizing himself
for things that are the fault of the organization. The most blatant example is
that the organization expected devotees to solicit donations without permits.
Over the course of the book he is taken to jail, detained, and ushered off of
private property by security guards as a matter of routine. In each incident
he tries to cling to the ISKCON party line, blaming himself for the
predicament because of his lack of faith, or because of his minor spiritual
infractions, such as his “lust” or his “attachments” to the material world.
The reader wants to shake the poor fellow to get him to
see what’s really going on. He is being used to raise money and made to feel
guilty for everything that goes wrong. His telling of these dilemmas seems
true to life. Outsiders who want to understand how brainwashing works will
learn well from reading Gabriel’s descriptions. Brainwashing goes deep. Even
after undergoing a full deprogramming, he writes in the last chapter, “I
understood that the Hare Krishnas are a destructive cult, but it would be
years before I could verbalize it without fearing the wrath of God” (p. 218).
The book is a page turner and true to the experience. As
an author, Gabriel put himself back into the situation to explain what it was
like at each stage. In Part I he is a willing participant, but Part II
portrays his disillusionment, leading to his separation from ISKCON. Part II
is a study in rebellion against the brainwashers’ rules. He says it himself:
How is it possible to have
respect and devotion for a cause when that sentiment no longer exists? That’s
what happened in the temple room that night when I inadvertently revealed the
little Oz man, my “spiritual master,” behind the grand façade. Ever since
then, I simply went through the motions of being Krishna’s devotee” (p. 179).
His feelings toward his guru change from awe and
reverence to wishing he could “kick this little man squarely in the ass” (p.
181).
As an expression of his discontent, he starts to skim
money off his collections. He saves up about $800 to buy a ticket to Hawaii,
where he imagines temple life will be easier. However, he turns the money over
to his guru and confesses instead. He asks to trade in his job collecting
money for a job in the kitchen, which makes him happy for a time. Still, he
finds his enthusiasm slipping. He stops waking up early and takes hot showers
instead of the required cold showers. Breaking ISKCON’s rules of austerity, he
starts to enjoy things like sunsets, fireworks displays, and looking at women.
He even ducks into a peep show cinema one afternoon.
Another theme of the book is his relationship with his
parents, which he portrays with touching and realistic emotion. Like Gabriel,
and me, many full time ISKCON members stayed in contact with their parents.
Often, it’s the only connection that ISKCON cannot completely stamp out, and
often it is an individual’s lifeline to eventually leave the organization. It
was true for me as it was for Gabriel. His parents eventually lure him out and
have him deprogrammed. Meanwhile, a tension builds throughout the book with
the reader asking when Gabriel is going to come to his senses and stop hurting
his parents by remaining in the group. Even by the end of the story, he has
not completely resolved the conflict with his father.
One of the last scenes is a Passover Seder with his
father and his father’s side of the family. Gabriel still thinks he’s a member
of ISKCON and therefore refuses to eat most of the ritual meal, even the
matzah, because “the karma of the non-devotee was
baked into it” (p. 198). Despite his fanaticism, his father and other
relatives remain tolerant. Perhaps it’s because they know that the
deprogramming will take place the following day.
The father makes a small joke about Gabriel’s ISKCON
clothing and Gabriel comments, “He had a way of ridiculing whatever I held
sacred” (p. 198). The tension is never resolved, but the reader hopes that
Gabriel will someday come to terms with his own part in the conflict and use
the lessons he learned in his odyssey to make peace with his father.
Another interesting note at the end of the book is his
portrayal of the competition between ex-ISKCON members to see who is more
detached from the organization. Some ex-members leave the confines of temple
life, but remain infatuated with the Hindu philosophy, the practices of
ISKCON, and the guru Srila Prabhupada. Others renounce everything about the
experience and convert to another religion, or go into the field of counseling
cult members who might leave. Most find a comfortable place somewhere in
between.
In the epilogue, Gabriel describes meeting a woman he
remembered from his days in the organization. Both had been deprogrammed and
they exchange stories about their experiences. She says, “It was a shock, but
I was happy to get out.” He says, “I think if Hare Krishna was a mainstream
religion, and not a rigid cult, it would be okay.” She says, “Personally, I
want nothing to do with it.” He says she looked at him “as though I should be
back in deprogramming” (p. 216).
The exchange hints at the fact that deprogramming does
not solve all of life’s problems. There will still be plenty to learn and
plenty of cult programming to undo as the years go on. Brainwashing and cult
membership leave a scar that the ex-member must learn to accommodate and live
with forever. This book offers a dramatic case study that shows exactly how
and why this is so.
This book will be valuable to people who study cult
programming. It will also find an audience among people who enjoy novels about
cults. It should stand up well along side well known novels about cults, such
as Mind Game, by Norman Spinrad (1985),
Kalki, by Gore Vidal (1998), and
The Program: A Novel, by Gregg Hurwitz (2004). Those books are powerful,
but mere fiction. Servant of the Lotus Feet is true.
