[Singh’s is hardly the only outsider sect to have found a foothold in India. In this rapidly industrializing country, “alternative spirituality” persists alongside increasing levels of education and increased economic prosperity, said Ronki Ram, a professor of political science at Panjab University. Sermons from religious teachers are beamed into homes on religious channels, and a number of self-styled “godmen” have amassed fortunes selling branded products.]
By Swati Gupta and Vidhi Doshi
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Gurmeet
Ram Rahim Singh appears in a small village in Nepal following a deadly
earthquake there
in May 2015 . (Matt McClain/The Washington Post)
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SIRSA,
India — The guru sits in
jail now, and his town is already showing the bleak signs of departing
abundance. New factories have their shutters rolled down, men are complaining
of unemployment, military guns are everywhere.
Sirsa, a town in northern India, headquarters
of the Dera Sacha Sauda sect, is reeling without its spiritual leader, Gurmeet
Ram Rahim Singh, who was sentenced Monday to 20 years’ imprisonment for raping
two female followers.
The conviction came after a decade-long legal
battle, during which victims detailed their allegations of being invited into
Singh’s underground residence, where they said he watched pornographic films
and forced himself on them.
Minutes after the judge pronounced Singh
guilty, violence erupted in Sirsa and outside Panchkula court, where Singh’s
devotees thronged the streets. A total of 38 people lost their lives, as rioters threw stones and
torched vehicles.
Ravinder Saini watched from his roof as a
government-run milk factory burned. “For two days the factory was burning. No
one came,” Saini said.
The riots have ended, but the townspeople are
fearful about their future.
Singh claimed to have more than 60 million
followers. Garbed in sequined costumes and gold jewelry, which earned him the
nickname “guru of bling,” he produced outlandish music videos. Over the years,
Singh’s popularity made Sirsa prosperous.
“From a purely business perspective, his
organization was good for me,” said Pradeep Saini, a 25-year-old shopkeeper.
Singh’s is hardly the only outsider sect to
have found a foothold in India. In this rapidly industrializing country,
“alternative spirituality” persists alongside increasing levels of education
and increased economic prosperity, said Ronki Ram, a professor of political
science at Panjab University. Sermons from religious teachers are beamed into
homes on religious channels, and a number of self-styled “godmen” have amassed
fortunes selling branded products.
People buy into religious rhetoric, Ram said,
because godmen are often charismatic speakers and make their followers feel
part of a fraternity.
“People from all walks of life go and attend,”
he said. Establishment religions such as Hinduism, he said, trap lower castes
at the bottom of the social pyramid, offering them no way to rise. To them,
being part of the “alternative” religious clubs offers “equality, dignity and
social justice,” he said. “A poor man goes and finds himself in a room with a
minister, and suddenly he feels, ‘Oh God, I’m not alone!’ ”
Inside the compound now sealed off to the
public, Singh lived a life of luxury, surrounded by doting followers who
attended to his every need. Luxury cars and lavish furniture surrounded him.
The complex includes a hotel, an auditorium for sermons and a large meditation
hall. His larger-than-life personality attracted rich business executives and
politicians who came to seek blessings ahead of new ventures or elections.
To cater to the pious, grocery shelves in the
city are stacked high with the guru’s branded products. Movie theaters show
films starring Singh, sometimes as a motorcycle-riding superhero. Shops are
plastered with photos of the rhinestone-garbed “rock star baba.”
“It has been profitable here,” said Prabhu
Ram, who sat under a tree playing cards with friends. “There has been
employment for the men in the factories, schools for our children. Even the
value of land has appreciated.”
“We think of this place as heaven,” said his
friend Parhlad Singh, who works in one of the factories run by the sect,
cleaning and packing pulses, the grains common in Indian cooking. “The work is
good, their product is good and I am able to run my house on what I earn.”
But now all of that seems in jeopardy.
“Everyone fell silent, and it felt like we
had gone numb,” a resident named Satbir Singh said of the moment when the
verdict was announced on television. “Our father has gone to jail, but we hope
someone keeps the organization running.”
In a village less than a mile away from the
Dera sect’s headquarters, a group of farmers sat in a muddy field smoking a
hookah pipe. “He provided so much employment. So much development,” said
Mahaveer, who uses only his first name. “We all think that the accusation was
false.”
Shaking his head, Mahaveer said, “The Sirsa
district will fall back now. I feel they should release him. Earlier, this was
such a desolate area. Now look at the difference. We have public transport
here, two fire engines and a hospital. We have nothing else that we need or
want right now. The Dera has given us every facility. We have schools to
educate our children. Colleges for them to study as much as they want.”
A number of godmen like Singh have held on to
vast numbers of followers despite allegations of criminality. Baba Ramdev, a
stomach-flexing yogi who led an anti-corruption campaign, was investigated for
tax evasion. Asaram Bapu has been jailed on charges of rape and criminal
intimidation. But supporters are willing to overlook crimes, Ram says, because
they see their own lives tangibly improving after joining sects.
“It is a social protest for a new identity,”
Ram said, noting that holy men are often praised for their vast and
wide-reaching social programs. Singh particularly was known for huge
blood-donation drives, anti-drug messages and performing mass marriages of sex
workers.
“I have been a follower since the beginning,”
said Prabhu Ram. The sentence was wrong, and harsh, he said. “They have given
hospitals, there are eye camps,” he said. The state government, he added,
“would not have made all this progress.”
A young woman of 18 named Pinky refuses to
doubt Singh’s moral character. “He did so much good. He never did anything
bad,” she said as she washed cooking utensils in a drain alongside the road. “I
believe the rape charges are false,” she whispered.
Doshi reported from New Delhi.
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