Darkness at the Edge of Reality
(After the Durätmäs Took Over)
Sixth of a Ten-Part Series
by Kailäsa Candra däsa
“To propagate worship in churches, temples or mosques is not possible, because people have lost interest in that.”
“Yet his spiritual master himself had asked for a governing board to succeed him at the head of his institution. Çréla Prabhupäda took this request to heart. . . He would establish such a board, oversee its development, and have it ready to act as his successor at the head of ISKCON. . . By thus establishing the GBC and leaving it as his chosen successor at the head of ISKCON, Çréla Prabhupäda insured that the order of Bhaktisiddhänta Sarasvaté Öhäkura would continue to work efficaciously in the world and bear fruit.”
“The first glance is apt to be superficial; the perceptions drawn from an initial survey stand always in need of correction. If then we are so dazzled and led away by them . . . we prepare for ourselves grievous disappointments.”
As the saying goes: Even in the heavens, war is hell.
As you may have understood after reading the previous parts of this series, “ISKCON” has, for some time, gone its own way in relation to following the guru-paramparä. This has created a hellish situation for the devotees, particularly in the West, i.e., those not willing to make so many “adjustments.” If this was the end of it, that would be bad enough—but it’s not. A movement that was supposed to have created a divine atmosphere on earth, leading its members far beyond the elevated sphere of svarga to eternal reward in the transcendental world, has instead warped into a broken arrow, cheating many sincere and serious devotees who previously had dedicated their lives to it.
As a result, there is now a kind of war going on. It rages between those who have realized “ISKCON” for the counterfeit that it is and those who maintain that, despite what they call its inevitable “growing pains,” the cult is still cent-per-cent bona fide.
The polarization between these two binary groups is extreme.
Superficially, the latter group mentioned here appears to be correct, as “ISKCON” boasts some beautiful temples, well-decorated Deities (some actually installed, some not), a seemingly uncountable number of websites on the world wide web (and search engine key words that are highly effective), as well as various elaborate rituals, great vegetarian restaurants, and any number of well-dressed, sharp-looking, “pukka” devotees. What's not to like?
Plenty, if you are actually interested in the essence of Kåñëa consciousness, that is. If you are actually trying to advance in knowledge, detachment, and clarity of thought leading to becoming fixed in higher intelligence within, the gross and subtle flaws of the “ISKCON” are soon discovered.
As was pointed out in Part Five, except for a fantastic revenue stream and significant increase in book distribution, 1974 was not a particularly good year for Kåñëa consciousness, not in the true sense of the term. His leading secretaries began to incrementally fudge in the matter of following the expressed orders of His Divine Grace Çréla Prabhupäda, having already ignored the stipulation in the D.O.M.,2 which directed that rotational commissioners be voted in or out by ISKCON temple presidents every three years.
The situation would not improve as time went on.
There is no need to go into an in-depth analysis of 1975-77, as those years have been covered in some detail elsewhere on our websites. Despite his having rejected virtually all the resolutions the governing body commissioners first presented to him during the annual G.B.C. conclave at Mäyäpura in the spring of 1975, Çréla Prabhupäda still lost control of his movement. Overcoming ever-diminishing power to control the most influential ISKCON leaders, he adopted a highly successful strategy to accomplish what he could, viz., he made severe demands of them in terms of book distribution results.
Book distribution thus doubled in 1975, again doubled over that in 1976, and it is said to have so doubled in 1977. That was unadulterated literature being distributed at that time, and many of those books, both large and small, are still on bookshelves and sitting on coffee tables. Scams, such as record distribution, began to infiltrate the movement in 1976-77, but this deviation was tame in comparison to where that cheating tendency would soon descend during the zonal äcärya epoch. Short-term, the plainclothes deception of late 1973 paid off, despite Prabhupäda's resistance to it. Long-term, it failed.
The year 1977 was marked by nefarious indicators directly related to the health and well-being of His Divine Grace. It is an in-depth topic, and a very touchy one. There is no middle ground to it, and such a controversial topic deserves a multi-part series of its own. The year 1977 can best be summed up as the year Çréla Prabhupäda departed under what was later discovered to be, at best, very strange circumstances.
Also, the last week of that year saw one of the pretender mahäbhägavats3 taking uttama-adhikäré worship from his godbrothers and godsisters in West Virginia, without any consultation with the governing body or his fellow commissioners and rittviks. This audacious and unauthorized act on his part has had very negative ramifications and repercussions over the years, most of them still felt to this day. Anyone who opines that 1977 was a great year for the Kåñëa consciousness movement is certainly deluded.
All hell, however, actually broke loose in 1978, but only a handful of Prabhupäda's disciples recognized it at the time. Some thought that the zonal äcärya scam was a great step forward, but very few, if any, hold that opinion now. Superficially, it appeared to be so at the time, but hundreds of initiated disciples have permanently (and most of them, justifiably) left Kåñëa consciousness out of sheer disappointment and disillusionment over what went down in 1978.
Many of them—arguably, most—have no interest in the ecclesiological model now en vogue in the so-called Kåñëa consciousness movement, and they do not even visit any temples. From one perspective, this should not be considered tragic, because such “ISKCON” temple worship has been heavily tainted for decades, and it is difficult not to be negatively impacted by the larva that covers those Deities when They are worshiped by Their congregation during ritualistic ceremonies. Also, let us not forget that such temple worship was the most important means of purification in the previous yuga; it is not so in this yuga, and particularly that is the case in the West, i.e., the chanting of the Holy Name is more important than Deity worship and related rituals.
The “ISKCON” mandarins have experienced some inevitable turnover at the top over the past four decades for a variety of reasons,4 and these changes in their institutional turtle tank often contain a centrifugal element. Anything that works centrifugally in relation to “ISKCON” is a good thing—and there is plenty of that on a regular basis--but we should not allow a discussion of this juxtaposition (and apparent contradiction) to lead us down so many rabbit holes. Instead, we should concentrate on just what holds that apa-sampradäya together, despite the fact that much centrifugal momentum has been disseminated by its leaders throughout all of the devotee community.
And the answer to the centripetal conundrum is not difficult to ascertain: It is the so-called inviolability of the Governing Body Commission. As evidenced by the second quote (posted at the top of this article), one of the chief leaders (arguably, the most influential) has stated, in black and white there, that the G.B.C.--more accurately viewed as the vitiated G.B.C.--is the chosen successor to His Divine Grace Çréla Prabhupäda in the disciplic succession of the guru-paramparä, viz., the Madhva-Gauòéya Vaiñëava sampradäya.
He goes on to say in that excerpted paragraph (from his very flawed and complicated book)5 that Prabhupäda created the G.B.C. for this very purpose. We shall explore the outrage further in Part Seven, but do not lose sight of the fact that this leader's book was cent-per-cent approved by the Governing Body Commission,6 that its Preface was penned by an “ISKCON” guru who is highly influential in the cult,7 and that many well-known and influential devotees in that movement have their listed names directly attached to it.8
This alone should give you a hint about just how deep the delusion of a Commission becoming the successor in the guru-paramparä is embedded in that deviant cult. That mass delusion has created war on the astral plane, which ultimately is manifested from subtler spheres. There can be no peace for the world at large as long as “ISKCON” and its splinter groups—almost all of which oppose “ISKCON” superficially but are linked to it at root—are not vigorously and effectively exposed for just what they are. Nevertheless, ultimately it is not “ISKCON” that we must be most concerned about, but, instead, its power node, which continues to be the source of wave after wave of nescience.
Once Upon a Great Notion
“. . . to produce a new species of humanity at the present moment on the basis of God consciousness and perfection of human life . . . We must look into the defects of modern civilization . . . (and) cleanse man and wipe out anachronisms.”
“ . . . it seems clear that a yojana has traditionally represented . . . five and approximately eight (miles) being two standard values used by astronomers. . . . the distance from Jambüdvépa to Mount Mänasottara is about 126,000,000 miles, using eight miles per yojana. Using our smaller figure from Sürya-siddhänta of five miles per yojana, this distance comes to 78,750,000 miles. Thus the modern figure of 93,000,000 miles for the distance from the earth globe to the sun is bracketed by the Bhägavatam figures obtained using our two standard values for the length of a yojana.”
Alice: Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?
His Divine Grace Çréla Prabhupäda certainly had exceptionally high hopes for his disciples and the movement that they comprised—at least, he had those hopes in the early years of his mission. Yet, although he actually desired to create a new species of humanity by rejuvenating the spiritual perfection and power of the conditioned souls who approached him, this desire was thwarted in a short span of time. There are many explanations concerning this (for those who are reasonable enough to recognize it as being the case), but we can now glean, in perspective, the chief reasons why his movement—both individually and collectively—did not meet his expectations and aspirations.
Call it the three C's: Concoction, carelessness, and complacency.
Çréla Prabhupäda often used the analogy of carefully passing down the ripened fruit of Vedic and Vaiñëava knowledge from the top of the tree; it was his attempt to impress upon his disciples the essential importance of carefully maintaining not only the standards of worship, but, just as importantly (ultimately, even more importantly), the truths and conclusions of the guru-paramparä. They were to be maintained exactly as he, and every other founder-äcärya, presented them. What is the value of a so-called Vaiñëava movement if its siddhänta and tattva is not carefully maintained by its disciples? It is of no value, but, worse than that, such apa-siddhäntas and mistaken knowledge (concoctions) then become counter-productive to realization.
Complacency is briefly mentioned in the Sixteenth Chapter of Bhagavad-gétä as being one of the demoniac qualities. While Prabhupäda was still manifest (and could be consulted), many of his leaders became complacent in relation to not only their (seemingly) assured statuses, but also in relation to the direction of the movement. Even early on, they were running the movement in ways that best suited them, over-confident that, as long as their center or zone was conducting the approved rituals, making new members, and distributing lots and lots of books, everything was just fine. However, such an overconfident, arrogant, and careless attitude, however well-disguised and harbored internally, would eventually spawn negative repercussions.
What about the eight commissioners who convened the unauthorized meeting in early 1972? We have discussed this event in our writings, and, in Part Eight, we shall mention it again in more detail. Was what they resolved at that ad hoc get-together anything other than a complete concoction? That is a rhetorical question, of course. Those eight men thought that they had followed the letter of the law concerning quorum, but neither Prabhupäda nor the other four commissioners were even notified of that meeting.
As a result, without going into all the particulars (we shall do so, soon), His Divine Grace suspended the G.B.C., busted down all the commissioners to a status below that of the temple presidents, and moved all of the power to command (on his behalf) back to those ISKCON presidents. Yet the question remains: How could eight of his “best men” have had the audacity to convene such an assembly and come up with new and extreme resolutions and methods to run the Hare Kåñëa movement? The answer is not difficult to ascertain: They were all complacent, careless, and thus prone to concoction.
Then, there was the plainclothes “sankirtan” book distribution scheme of late 1973, which Çréla Prabhupäda resisted as best he could (but was finally overruled by his leading secretary in Los Angeles). It sacrificed the purity of the presentation in order to increase book totals and revenue flow. Çréla Prabhupäda finally was willing to allow it in a fettered way, but even that was overruled. It was instead balls-to-the-wall devotees out on the pick in complete disguise telling lies. Quite effective in terms of “results” short-term, but the concoction has shown its devastating effects over time.
The temple presidents, sannyäsés, and commissioners—at least, most of them—thus were awash in “laxmé” and “laxmé points,” but that simply increased their complacency and overconfidence. This was demonstrated by so many fall downs which eventually became known (and how many never became known?). Just as importantly, almost all of the rank and file devotees turned their attention away from becoming learned men in order to instead become grifters, advanced in telling lies (“for Kåñëa”), advanced in the change-up, and advanced in a capitalistic mentality of so-called transcendental competition. As but one indicator of where they were at, they would often receive business cards from salesmen coming through the airports, inviting them to give the man a call if the devotee's current employment, somehow or other, didn't work out.
With so many unauthorized ideas becoming standard fare (especially out on the pick), the concoction faucet opened wide as time went on. The devotees in general were thus primed to accept anything and everything, because they no longer were accustomed to carefully transmitting knowledge to anyone else; they had instead become accustomed to taking away money from the vikarmés by hook or by crook. The leaders could easily remain complacent as they exploited this anti-spiritual, all-pervasive attitude in the movement. “Results” became the new criterion of legitimacy, and any concoction that produced those results was falsely deemed spiritually advanced.
Skipping ahead, we can now recognize the cataclysm caused by the zonal äcärya concoction, which was unauthorized, anti-spiritual, anti-devotional, and loaded with carelessness, complacency, and concoction. It appeared practically unstoppable in the late Seventies, but, by the mid-Eighties, it was completely rejected, replaced by a new collegiate concoction.
Do not think for a moment that position papers and books had no connection with any of this. In point of fact, there was always some kind of position paper, treatise, booklet, or book that was used to buttress whatever concoction was en vogue at any given time. During the height of the zonal äcärya era, for instance, it was T.K.G.'s Servant of the Servant, which stated that any devotee who did not accept the äcäryas of the zones was “on the precipice of spiritual disaster.” When that system itself was upended (cavalierly passed off as a “growing pain”), it was replaced by The Professor's collegiate concoction, and there was a position paper underpinning that proposal, as well.
Which brings us to 1989 and the publication of Sadä Pütä's Vedic Cosmography and Astronomy. It is mentioned in the very beginning of the book that it had been approved by The Scholar, who was still one of the leading secretaries of the Commission, despite the fact that few if any others on the G.B.C. had vetted this science book to any significant extent. Dr. Thompson's expertise was carelessly accepted as good enough, particularly since he was held in such high esteem by the Bhaktivedanta Institute, which was already going off the rails.
The book is loaded with concoctions, but, by this time, the movement was obviously not concerned about that. Notice, in the excerpt cited above, that Çréla Prabhupäda's standard for the length of the yojana is compromised by falsely claiming that a yojana can also be five miles long. Çréla Prabhupäda defines the length of the yojana as being eight miles in four places in his writings, and, in one other place, he defined it as being slightly longer than eight miles. Nowhere did he present the length of the yojana to be a mere five miles.
Yet, through convoluted logic (read, concoction), Dr. Thompson equates the length of the yojana as being either five or eight miles, falsely claiming that both of these are standard lengths of this measure. How can there be two such diametrically opposed “standards”? The logic he uses is somewhat sophisticated, but he also falsely claims that the Sürya-siddhänta establishes the yojana as being of the length of five miles.
It is beyond the scope of this article to specifically point out the fallacies of that allegation (although your author is capable of doing so), but, suffice it to say that, by 1989, it was anything goes in “ISKCON.” It was not very important whether you were right or wrong in what you presented; ultimately, that was a secondary consideration to the “ISKCON” leaders. It was whether or not you were institutionally recognized to publish or to initiate.
Recognized by what? Not difficult to answer that question, is it?
By that time, the cult had blown out everybody who was knowledgeable, ethical, and/or prone to point out contradictions and resist them. The “ISKCON” leaders liked where they were going, and it did not matter to them whether or not they were authorized by Vedic and Vaiñëava literature or tradition to traverse the path of their choice. They could not care less about any such thing, because the concoction that their movement was something entirely new (without any obligation to adhere to standard and rigid Vedic and Vaiñëava tradition) was already fully inculcated into their program.
They remain complacent to this day. They also remain over-confident. They believe that their careless attitude is of no danger to them as long as they do not buck up against the new principles of what it means, in their cult, to be an advanced devotee in a new and improved movement of so-called Kåñëa consciousness. It's some kind of science they are practicing, granted, but, then again, Machiavelli also presented political science.
The “ISKCON” mentality is attractive to those who have been invultuated by the “ISKCON” béja. This plays out in one way when whatever ecclesiastic or scientific book receives the imprimatur of the cult, and, as such, is judged automatically bona fide and good preaching. The analogy of carefully passing down ripened fruit from the top of the tree is little more than a quaint anachronism in the eyes of the “ISKCON” misleaders.
They are going somewhere, sure, but you should be strong, knowledgeable, sincere, serious, and fortunate enough not follow them down whatever rabbit hole is fated to be the conduit of their next concoction.
The Madhyam Game
“As soon as irrevocable loving service is established in the heart, the effects of nature's modes of passion and ignorance, such as lust, desire and hankering, disappear from the heart. Then the devotee is established in goodness, and he becomes completely happy.”
“ . . . the past of one man is not the past of another; past, present and future are relative to the person, and there are different grades of persons. . . So this is all relativity, whereas in the spiritual world, there is no such relativity.”
“. . . relativity in religion is not necessarily due to accidental material conditions; it comes from transcendence itself. Person-hood is a social condition; it is made of relationships. . . Each relationship reveals more of the supreme (sic) personality (sic) of the Godhead.”
According to institutional and social modes in “ISKCON,” there are topics (related to challenges) that are considered taboo, because the avidyä that represents them has woven its way into the intelligences of all of that cult's devotees. An in-depth discussion of the Deities, in terms of pre-1977 (November) and post-1977 installation ceremonies, is one such topic or potential challenge (to the “ISKCON” status quo). No one discusses it, but can bogus gurus actually perform or authorize genuine fire sacrifices that consecrate and install Deities? We are not going to take up that topic in this section, but we are going to take up another one that is considered taboo, viz., the dumbing down of madhyam-adhikäré status. It has been going on for decades in that movement and elsewhere, and it needs to finally be exposed.
Besides the social or institutional disapproval of the vested interests concerning a madhyam challenge,9 there is a spiritual issue (connected to even discussing it) which is a cause for concern. That is in connection to Bhagavad-gétä, 18.67, which forbids revealing, to the unqualified or general mass of people (especially to non-devotees) confidential, detailed, and/or specific knowledge of the scientific process and stages of buddhi-yoga.
We shall make considerable effort here to avoid transgressing that stricture, because all of the articles on our websites are available to everyone with INTERNET access anywhere in the world. It is not that people who are envious, who do not engage in spiritual austerities, or who are also not engaged in acts of devotional service (as devotees of the Lord) will misuse such specific knowledge if it is revealed. Rather, it is that they will misunderstand and reject it, because they are not qualified to receive it. We can make our points in this section without revealing the stages of ätmäräma connected to madhyam-adhikäré, but that restriction does make the task a bit more difficult.
A madhyam-adhikäré is at the middle (madhyam) stage of the buddhi-yoga process. His is a special status, because he is no longer a neophyte. There are stages lower than neophyte, however, and, although those stages are not actually part of vidhi-sadhana bhakti, devotees at those stages are (usually) still considered devotees.
In Çréla Prabhupäda's movement, even while he was physically manifest, many of his disciples believed that anyone who received brahminical initiation was automatically a madhyam-adhikäré. Of those who did not take this view, many considered that a sannyäsé was automatically a madhyam-adhikäré, simply because Prabhupäda had awarded him the order of sannyäsa.
Both of these liberal and complacent viewpoints were wrong and continue to be wrong. His Divine Grace awarded both brahminical and sannyäsa initiations at a stage previous to madhyam-adhikäré, even previous to the sub-stage previous to madhyam-adhikäré status. You have to be advanced in Kåñëa consciousness in order to be a genuine madhyam-adhikäré.
The dumbing down of the madhyam-adhikäré status is integral to the religious and social stratification currently embedded in “ISKCON,” but it goes much deeper than that. It also goes back further in time, i.e., previous to 1978.10 Another way of saying the same thing is that the essence of the madhyam game reared up well before Çréla Prabhupäda left the scene.
A neophyte devotee in the line is known by a number of indicators, one of which is that he cannot discriminate as to who is really a devotee and who is not. Furthermore, he cannot discriminate as to where devotees are situated, e.g., he might mistake a neophyte as being a maha-bhagavat or he might mistake a madhyam (if he was lucky enough to even contact one) to be a neophyte. None of this is confidential knowledge.
Where it gets murky is when someone thinks (wrongly) that he is a madhyam and then, contacting another devotee, wants to be recognized as a madhyam. If that other devotee is of a similar mindset, then both can satisfy one another quite easily by recognizing each other as madhyams—although, in point of fact, both are still neophytes (and not at all very advanced in terms of the different levels within the neophyte stage).
This went on in both ISKCON and “ISKCON,” and, to make matters worse, those who refused (even if it was internally, which it almost always was) to accept another godbrother as being a madhyam, were then pigeon-holed to the institutional totem pole at or near the bottom. They were also considered envious, although most of them were not so. They did not see the signs of a madhyam in those fellows, and there is nothing at all envious about that. It was their duty to remain non-committal, although devotees can often intuit quite a bit about another devotee simply by minimal but direct contact.
The devotees who did not play the madhyam game may not only have refused to recognize another devotee (whether brähmin, temple president, or sannyäsé) as a madhyam-adhikäré, but they might also have been aware of the anarthas11 that the so-called madhyam was engaged in, which disqualified him.
However, the status of madhyam-adhikäré is not merely delineated by freedom from anarthas. It is much more than that. It is higher than that. It is very special, e.g., a madhyam-adhikäré no longer dreams when he rests his physical body. That is only one example of how special the stage is.
The madhyam game was rampant by the mid-Seventies in the movement, and cliques had formed in many places, all on the same basis of a compromised mentality, a form of psychic back-slapping. The contagion spread, and it was an international phenomenon in the movement, although no one would discuss it or challenge it specifically. You presumed that you were a madhyam, you met a devotee who presumed the same thing, and you both dumbed down the process by mutually accepting one another on a false basis.
If you think you are self-realized when you are not, there is no chance that you can become self-realized. The madhyam-adhikäré stage advances through different levels comprising it, but, as aforementioned, we cannot discuss the science of those levels. What we can discuss is this syndrome, because the mass of ISKCON devotees—whether they played the madhyam game or not—were heavily victimized by it in a very short span of time.
In Hindi, the word for cucumber and the word for diamond are similar; indeed, they can be easily mistaken for referring to the same thing. However, in one sense (or application), they can refer to the same thing, and that is when either one or the other is stolen. In the West, stealing a diamond will almost certainly draw a severe penalty, depending on its value, while stealing a cucumber will usually merit little more than a slap on the wrist. Nevertheless, the criminal mentality of thievery is the same in both cases—the only difference is the level of value of that which is stolen. A cucumber thief can, in due course, become a master thief if he continues on the criminal path.
Similarly, since the madhyam game had entered the movement to practically an all-pervasive extent, it was just a matter of time and degree before it devolved to the next “higher” level.12 The devotees were being surreptitiously set up by the madhyam game, even while actively engaged in devotional service within what was still a bona fide devotional movement.
When devotees played the madhyam game, even if they played it passively, they lost their edge, i.e., they lost their power of discrimination. If they played it passively, they made concessions to others that they had no right to make. If they played it actively, they were themselves pretenders. Also, by playing it, they were thus prone to accept whatever the group-think had adopted according to the reality of the moment. Reality soon came biting.
The rittvik in Moundsville claimed himself to be an uttama-adhikäré a mere five weeks after Prabhupäda departed, despite the fact that Prabhupäda had said (on the so-called appointment tape) “regular guru, that's all.” And, just as importantly, he did not officially designate any of his disciples as having attained even that status of regular guru. In July of 1977, he merely appointed eleven rittviks to conduct initiation sacrifices on his behalf, and nothing more than this was ever officially established.
Approximately three months after the Vanity Fair Despot laid down the gauntlet,13 the other ten little Indian boys made the same leap. Now, the foolish devotees at large were obliged by the governing body to recognize all eleven of these men as even beyond the status of madhyam-adhikäré. If they did not, then, at minimum, they had to accept them as being situated at the highest level of madhyam, imitating an uttama-adhikäré.
Since so many of these fools had been doing the same thing--but at the lower level--they were thus prone to “simply accept,” especially since this zonal äcärya mahäbhägavat concoction was institutionalized by the governing body. It was easy for them to “simply accept,” because the madhyam game now moved up one stage (allegedly), while the principle of pretense remained the same. They thus accepted eleven pretenders as mahäbhägavats, because they had, by habit and routine, lost their power of discrimination.
The “madhyams” were the cucumbers, i.e., while the bogus mahäbhägavats were the diamonds. The same thing was going on in both cases, as eleven false madhyams then rose up to become the equivalent of master thieves, projecting the “uttama” vibe and legislating themselves into the post of uttama-adhikäré guru via the G.B.C. rubber stamp. All eleven of those men immediately descended to the lowest stage possible: Sahajiyä. Of course, this is not exactly accurate, because some of them already were sahajiyäs before they became institutional uttama-adhikärés.
They were all aided and abetted and enabled by pretender madhyams. None of this has abated at this time. The song remains the same. It is all based upon the ignorance of believing relativity to be absolute, giving too much credence to personal skills, titles, posts, certifications, egoistic vibes, personal ambitions, and powers which remain material, even if, to some degree, they may be considered special. To become an advanced person in Kåñëa consciousness is not determined by any kind of social condition, thread, daëòa, or title, i.e., these kinds of different gradations are all based upon relative considerations. Simply being a member of some kind of cult does not change something which is intrinsically material into an absolute entity. The madhyam game and the illusory energy combined to elevate such relative entities and powers to spiritual status, and no such relativity should ever have been allowed to enter into Çréla Prabhupäda's Hare Kåñëa movement of Kåñëa consciousness.
Relativity in religion will certainly be ever-present, but Kåñëa consciousness is a cultural movement which pays no heed to that. Accidental material conditions should never be confused with transcendence. The madhyam game was unauthorized, and it devolved into a higher-stakes game when a small cadre of overlords decided to exploit it to advantage.14 The stark fact is that there is not a madhyam-adhikäré remaining in either “ISKCON,” Neo-Mutt, or Rittvik—if there ever even was one in any of these groups.
In Part Seven, we shall discuss the distortions and half-truths that permeated the movement after the introduction of the zonal äcärya scam. We shall do so in order to get a clear understanding of the hinge moment we now live in. In Part Eight, we shall get to the point and center our series on exposing that which most thoroughly deserves—and has always deserved—to be exposed. We shall also propose a radical solution directly connected to exposing it.
1 Technically, the title of the book is Çréla Prabhupäda Founder-Äcärya of ISKCON, thus the acronym.
2 D.O.M. is an acronym for Direction of Management, the founding document and charter of the ISKCON Governing Body Commission. Some consider it to be the Constitution of ISKCON, but that is a major misconception.
3 Kértanänanda Swämé, who then adopted the moniker “Bhaktipäda.”
4 Death, scandals, and internecine war being chief reasons.
5 SPFAI, as noted in Endnote One.
6 “A Note from the Executive Committee of IS KCON ’s Governing Body Commission: This work, Çréla Prabhupäda: The Founder-Äcärya of ISKCON, authored by Ravéndra Svarüpa Däsa, is officially endorsed by ISKCON’s Governing Body Commission (GBC).”
7 Bhakti Caru Swämé.
8 Çréla Prabhupäda Position Committee Members: Akrüra Däsa; Ätmäräma Kåñëa Däsa; Bhakta Priya Devé Däsé; Bhakti Charu Swami; Bhaktivaibhäva Swami; Caitanya Candrodaya Däsa; Gopäl Kåñëa Goswami; Hari Çauri Däsa; Hådayänanda Goswami (former member); Madhu Sevita Däsa; Mälaté Devé Däsé (former member); Ravéndra Svarüpa Däsa; Çraddhädevé Däsé; Sureçvara Däsa; Väsudeva Däsa; Vérabähu Däsa; Viñëu Mürti Däsa; Yadubara Däsa.
9 These are not at all the concern of your author.
10 In late March of 1978, “ISKCON” replaced the real movement of ISKCON. This was the commencement of the cataclysmic zonal äcärya era.
11 Unwanted things detrimental or not helpful to development in buddhi-yoga. Anartha covers a wide range. Too much interest in a quasi-spiritual topics is one mild kind of anartha. Sinful activity is another. There are personal anarthas, and there are institutional anarthas. When a devotee accepts an institutional anartha, he is also personally engaged in anartha.
12 Your author refused to play the madhyam game during the years that he was actively engaged in the ISKCON movement, while it was still on the rails.
13 He accepted and, in effect, demanded mahäbhägavat worship from everyone, including godbrothers and godsisters.
14 The eleven pretender mahäbhägavats exploited many flaws and lacunas in the movement to their advantage, not just the mentality behind the madhyam game.
Quotes from the books of His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada are copyright by the Bhaktivedanta Book Trust