Ignoring the facts is easy when you believe your Guru is God incarnate.
This is what Prem Rawat, Guru Maharaj Ji at the time, said on September 10, 1978, at Guru Puja Geneva, Switzerland:
“Yes, Guru Maharaj Ji, you are my brother. Yes, Guru Maharaj Ji, you are my friend. You are riches. You are wisdom. You are my all, my Lord, to me.”
It makes me think about that 2022 CNN interview where he said it was not about him when the interviewer asked him if he was creating a cult. Not about him? Really? That’s a crock. It was all about him — unwavering devotion to him.
Does he think we’re stupid and don’t notice his lies? Or maybe he thinks we’ll overlook his attempt to rewrite history because we’re so desperate to believe the fairytale he sold us is true.
The truth is this — he sold us the notion he was a divine incarnation. The setup was perfect — a child god from India. Cherub-like, innocent, playful, and talking of world peace. The perfect storm for hippies and spiritual seekers.
But it didn’t take long for the reality of his lifestyle to leak out. For some devotees, it was more convenient psychologically and much less stressful to label the stories about him as unfounded gossip. Others said he could do whatever the hell he wanted to because he’s God in a human body.
The problem is what leaked out were not made-up tales by disgruntled losers who didn’t meditate. They were factual accounts of people who served him personally for many years and weren’t forced to sign non-disclosure agreements, which is standard procedure now for anyone in his inner circle.
The personal experiences of these former devotees were published on the internet. Anyone with the slightest bit of intelligence who reads them can see the behavior patterns.
Let’s get into just a few details to make the point that behind the curtain, he’s miles away from what we see on stage.
By 1978, Bob Mishler was long gone as President of DLM. Young Prem had cried on his shoulder, wondering if he should give up his crown. He’d polished off cases of expensive cognac and moved on to smoking weed and drinking to take the edge off a tough day. It must be exhausting if you’re the Lord. Well, it probably is when you have to pretend you are. Bring on the liquor.
Was the weight of being The Master, the Holy One, the Lord of the Universe just too much for an eight-year-old boy pushed to the throne ahead of his older brother and mother by Charanand, Sampuranand, and Bahari Singh? Probably so.
The story of him having a vision of succeeding his deceased father, marching to the stage, and declaring himself the new Master is a myth. It sounded so good, right? Magical almost. But, no. The whole thing was a power struggle fought behind closed doors, and Prem was crowned before his mother or anyone else knew it.
When things got rolling in the 1970s, he had us believing he was God incarnate. Therefore it follows he could do anything he wanted. And that is precisely what he did. He doubled down on what was working: Encourage unwavering devotion to him. Very good for the bank account. More cash meant more cars, planes, helicopters, places to live, and, let’s not forget, a very effective way to experience inner peace — expensive French cognac.
So, while those of us living in ashrams were sleeping two or three to a room on foam mattresses, eating mung bean salad and baked tofu, having no money, singing Arti twice a day, being celibate as twenty-year-olds, sending in our money, and worshipping Prem like all good devotees do, he was partying and living the high life, eating meat, smoking, and getting so shit faced, that Michael Dettmers and others had to regularly help him up the stairs to his bedroom in his Malibu home.
But what’s wrong with this? Well, nothing if you’re God incarnate because it’s all for his entertainment, a lila (Hindi word for divine play), a test for the devotees. When you’re enlightened and have “realized Knowledge,” as he claimed, you can drown yourself in alcohol without affecting your health, spirit, or soul. Apparently, if you’re the Master of the Universe, you shake it off the next day and preach the importance of inner peace.
Let’s not forget about Mahatma Jagdeo, the top dog among the Indian mahatmas, who was raping and molesting young girls in the 1970s. It’s hard even to write this because it’s so fucking horrific. One girl in the UK was raped at the age of 11. Raped. That’s right. An American girl was molested at the age of 15. And more girls as young as 8 and 10 years old were abused. Facts that were hushed up.
Did Prem know about this? Reports suggest he knew as early as 1984, but Jagdeo wasn’t sent back to India until the late 1980s. Sent back to India? Right, so he could pray on Indian girls, not girls in the West. Really? That’s like sending a criminal from one town to another just across the county line.
Again, in the 1980s, while we were happily meditating away in our ashrams, eyes closed figuratively and literally before they were unceremoniously disbanded, Prem had his fixers arrange sexual liaisons with female premies. Oh, but you say he wouldn’t do that because he was married? Sorry, yes, he was having sex with women other than his wife. And Marolyn, the wife, wasn’t squeaky clean, either, according to people close to the situation.
He also picked up a long-time mistress. I used to see her at programs up in the front with a camera slung around her neck — quite an attractive girl. The family man, juggling little kids on stage with a starry-eyed wife worshipping him and encouraging us to do the same, was shagging young women devotees. In corporate America, this would be considered sexual harassment- the CEO using his position power for sexual favors from employees.
Does anyone need a Guru like this to experience inner peace? No, clearly not. Imagine if you saw an advertisement for a spiritual teacher offering meditation techniques and educational courses on inner peace. In the fine print, the ad says, “Please be advised the teacher drinks heavily, smokes, eats meat, has a mistress, is known for humiliating people in public, likes lewd jokes, and enjoys sex with his female followers.”
What would you do?
Those techniques of Knowledge? Not his. Ancient. Been around forever. But we were told anything we experienced was because of his Grace. And we believed it because he was, after all, God incarnate.
I gave satsang at one of those Hans Jayanti’s festivals in Orlando, where he sat high above us on a custom-built air-conditioned chair wearing the Krisna crown and did something that was supposed to be dancing. Awkward. During my little speech, I changed an off-color joke to something harmless, and he commented on how clever that was during an instructor meeting the next day. Good for me. My lucky day.
But it wasn’t so good for that poor instructor, Marilyn Johnson (no relation to the wife), who talked about how happy Maharaji must be because the sky was blue. Well, how can you fault her? She got caught up worshipping the guy who says he’s the Lord. Of course, the sky is blue if he’s happy. Every secret Gopi knows that. That was no excuse, however, because she got ripped a new one in his subsequent address in front of 10,000 of us. Do you remember that? I sure do.
He made her the poster girl for stupidity. I bet she never recovered from the public humiliation. Whatever happened to kindness, Prem? Isn’t kindness, love, and respect for people something that flows naturally when you are connected to the source of life within? That’s certainly my experience after fifty years of meditation.
I’ve talked to many former close followers, and they’ve shared his penchant for dirty jokes, humiliating people for his amusement, and making lewd comments about the female anatomy. I’ve heard many more examples of his disgusting behavior, but it’s too depressing to write about.
Back to 1978 for a moment — the year I surrendered my life in his Malibu living room when he made me an instructor, a lifetime commitment in my mind. I hit the road and traveled the world for several years. Then I was made the President of Elan Vital and the instructor assigned to his legal and financial affairs office, the OGM — Office of Guru Maharaji.
I worked closely with Michael Dettmers and a team of premie lawyers and financial accountants in Miami Beach for the next three years. I saw how the money was spent. And I knew where it came from, too, because I received briefcases of cash delivered by premie couriers at Miami airport hotels when more money was needed to fund that giant money pit — the 707, which lasted only a few flights before it was offloaded — gold toilet seat and all. During those money runs, I saw piles of cash—hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Dettmers did everything he could to ensure Prem was set up correctly, both legally and financially. He was discreet, very dedicated, and intelligent. When he finally got to a place in 1999 where he could speak freely about his experience on the ex premie website, I knew it was all real. Nothing was made up — Michael was a straight shooter. He was fair and honest and answered every question put to him.
His postings opened the door for me to the truth about Prem. I heard about his drinking in 1977 and discussed it with him in 1979 in a private meeting. He didn’t deny it but asked me immediately, “Who told you?” He said maybe it was a test. I left that conversation still puzzled, thinking something was wrong with me because I doubted the Master. I carried this niggling doubt with me as an instructor for the next few years. It caused me great anguish and stress.
It was a blessing for me when he closed the ashrams, fired all the instructors, and left Miami for Malibu. It was my time to enter the real world, dead broke and in debt at thirty-three. I got a job selling telephone systems in Miami with Steve McCullough, a former aviation guy who was a friend from the OGM. I spent the next fifteen years building my career and raising a family. I went to the occasional program and continued practicing Knowledge.
I was blown away when I first read Dettmer’s account on the ex-site. I didn’t know how to process it. Was my whole life a waste? What about all the serendipity that led me to Maharaji in 1972? What about the profound spiritual experiences I had along the way? How do I resolve all this? I compartmentalized my doubts and continued practicing far from the premie community and Prem.
In 2010 I concluded he was flawed but had gifts too. I wasn’t ready to fully let go. Part of me wanted to forget what I read about him. The other part of me knew he was fake. I went to a program in 2014. I enjoyed it for what it was, but it didn’t move me any closer to him.
Then in 2020, I wrote an article about leaving the cult. It opened me up to further introspection. I went back and reread the ex-premie website. It landed deeply this time, and I stopped listening to him anymore.
In 2022, someone within Prem’s family reached out to me after reading my cult article. We had several long discussions where this person shared confidential information about Prem and his off-camera behavior with me. What I heard made me ill. That was the final straw. I was done, fed up, and pissed off.
Looking back over the past few years, I went through stages of doubt, denial, justification, fence-sitting, rationalization, disgust, anger, and acceptance. The untangling process was messy and non-linear.
Facing the truth about Prem is challenging for any premie. Dismantling your entire belief system and rebuilding it isn’t easy. There’s a lot of psychological work necessary to deprogram yourself and recover from being misled by someone you loved and trusted with every fiber of your being.
If you are loyal to him, I understand why you might get defensive when someone like me goes postal. I’m stepping on what you believe is sacred and insulting the person you love.
I’m a threat to your peace of mind because I want to expose what’s been going on behind the curtain. This is what he did: He built an empire on smoke and mirrors and deceit. He fooled us into believing what was not true. He was never a real Master. He was an impostor and still is. He’s committed spiritual fraud.
I want him to apologize for pretending to be what he never was and to make amends to those he has hurt. Wishful thinking, I know. But that’s what someone should do when they’ve lied, cheated, or stolen from others.
He’s duped us and has lived on the backs of trusting, wonderful, loving people for fifty years. It’s wrong. Big time wrong. It’s time to make amends Prem Rawat.
And it’s time for us to realize we were fooled.
If you know the truth about him, it’s time to speak out.
And if you don’t know the truth, it’s time to part the curtain and take a good look at who he really is.
-Don Johnson
First published on Medium.com