The discreet charm of the subaltern godmen

The stampede at the Hathras satsang (prayer meeting) raises many questions about all that went wrong that day — more due to negligence and thoughtlessness among key actors than any freak occurrence. It also makes one wonder about the origin and growth of such large followings. Some reports say well over 100,000 people gathered in a space that had received permits to hold 80,000.

The Hathras satsang was organised around Bhole Baba alias Narayan Sakar Hari. The self-anointed godman — his real name is Suraj Pal Singh Jatav — resigned from the Uttar Pradesh (UP) police in the late 1990s to emerge as a baba (godman). He claimed both divine experiences and magical abilities. Stories were spread about his “divine power”. Such was the power of word-of-mouth that even civil servants and others in government counted themselves among his followers. But his following is the strongest among marginal and backward communities, especially women.

It is astounding how such babas/preachers/godmen emerge and amass mammoth followings. These godmen belong to different castes, and based on their personal network, their faithful initially evolve from their own castes/sub-castes and neighbouring communities in their region of influence. Following a similar pattern, many subaltern babas have emerged in recent years and command millions of followers. Some have been particularly successful among the backward and Dalit communities. They are mostly born in backward and marginal communities and their sects, panths, satsang samooh (prayer collectives) are mostly managed and controlled by their close associates, relatives and sewadars (service-givers). One may find such patterns in the sects led by Baba Ram Raheem of the Dera Sacha Sauda in Punjab, Jai Gurudev collectives in northern India, and, of course, Narayan Sakar Hari, a Jatav with influence among Dalits and marginalised groups in western UP, especially in the Agra region.

To understand their influence, we need to critically evaluate the forms and processes of their sects, and analyse their caste and class bases. The main factors that drive people from marginalised communities to such babas include the craving for a sense of equality within the religious and spiritual domains, the stories woven around the “magical powers” of babas, psychological needs that require some kind of counselling, low levels of trust on modernity, incapacity when it comes to expensive medical treatment for physical and mental ailments, and a search for social brotherhood and belonging, among others. Most of these groups talk of manav dharm (the religion of humanity) and strongly argue for equality in unequal looking social and religious domains. Manavta as dharma attracts the marginalised because it gives them a sense of inclusion in a satsangik community. The marginalised feel comfortable sitting, praying and conversing among people like them. This sense of “the similar” plays a foundational role in forming religious brotherhood (bhaichara). This kind of gathering helps to eradicate the social insecurity prevailing in the everyday life of the downtrodden and oppressed. They believe these groups help in shadi-vyah-marani-jini (weddings, life and death). It was, of course, heart-breaking to see that many women who died had come to Narayan Hari with the wedding cards of sons and daughters as also with the hope of being able to find matrimonial matches. A social clanship thus emerges from the sect-based bhaichara.

In many cases, these self-proclaimed godmen maintain high-level political and bureaucratic contacts. This emboldens them to assure followers of support in matters of transfers, postings and jobs. So, these babas and the groups that emerge around them work as a space of social healing and appear as emotional support forums. The godmen’s words and oratory appear as confidence-generating discourse (shabad) for the psyche of the oppressed.

Besides, narratives are spread about the kala (divine art), siddhi (spiritual achievement) or chamatkar (miracles) of such babas, through word-of-mouth, social media and TV channels. In fact, Narayan Hari and associates were once booked under the Drugs and Remedies (Objectionable Advertisements) Act for creating a ruckus at a crematorium, trying to resurrect a dead girl. People gather around such babas with the strong belief that the latter can ease their hardships. In many cases, distressed people, mostly poor and lacking the wherewithal to access expensive but appropriate medical treatment, gather around the babas in the hope that their touch, charan dhool (dust of their feet), consecrated water and talismans, could cure their ailments; apocryphal stories of their ashirvaad (blessings) having brought good fortune and good health are legion. Women in poor families are especially vulnerable given the heavy load of existential, emotional, and psychological trauma they are forced to bear.

There are, of course, selfless sects and holy men across religions, leading highly spiritual lives. Equally, there are cunning exploiters and their clever panthic managers who harvest the sorrow and pain of millions for their gains. Within the paradigm of neoliberalism, there is a market for mann ka sauda, the trade of beliefs and emotions.

Eminent scholar Partha Chatterjee in The Politics of the Governed, has written about a subaltern baba named Balak Brahmachari whose Namasudra followers, a marginalised community from West Bengal, didn’t allow the police to cremate his body for more than 55 days in the belief that he would miraculously come alive. The political class could not resist, fearing the anger of a large vote. A similar situation seems to be emerging in Hathras. The political class, barring Mayawati and the Left parties, have been silent on Narayan Sakar Hari alias Bhole Baba’s involvement in the case even as everybody sympathises with the victims.

Badri Narayan is director, GB Pant Social Science Institute. The views expressed are personal