A senior Maharashtra political leader keeps his fists clenched while delivering speeches, on the advice of a guru. Another top politician is said to conduct rituals on full-moon or new-moon days, and even skips official programmes on these inauspicious days, also on the advice of a guru. A photo showing Rupali Chakankar, chairperson of the state women’s commission, holding an umbrella for Ashok Kharat was shared widely on social media (Anjali Damania/X)
A few years ago, the chief minister of a neighbouring state quietly travelled to Western Maharashtra to perform a certain ritual there, when he believed his political position was in jeopardy. To maintain secrecy, he altered his security cover, saying this was a personal visit.
Are politicians more superstitious or spiritual than most? Or is their allegiance to self-styled godmen just another move in the political playbook – a ritual that cuts both ways?
The arrest of Nashik ‘godman’ Ashok Kharat has turned the spotlight on a shadowy tribe of self-styled spiritual leaders, whose role lies at the intersection of faith, superstition, power and politics.
From Sathya Sai Baba to Bhayyu Maharaj, and figures like Jagadguru Ramanandacharya Narendracharya, aka Narendra Maharaj, personalities like these have drawn the state’s political elite into their orbit.
Often charismatic and possessing exceptional leadership skills, these so-called spiritual leaders are an important cog in the political machinery; some are known to have brokered deals when governments were teetering.
These so-called godmen also enjoy an enviable mass base cultivated by years of philanthropy and quasi-spiritualism, a vote bank pivotal to the fortunes of all political leaders. It’s no wonder politicians court their patronage.
As a result, the ashrams, or headquarters of these self-styled gurus, are frequented by the who’s who of the political establishment, bureaucracy as well as other VIPs. To keep their fearful political devotees hooked, some of these gurus invent rituals, promising good fortune, wealth and success. Chief ministers, leaders of major political parties and bureaucrats consult them before taking major decisions, contesting elections and even making career moves.
It’s a heady mix – one that delivers on the earthly plane.
When Rupali Chakankar resigned as chairperson of the state women’s commission for her proximity to Ashok Kharat, the ‘godman’ from Nashik, more skeletons could tumble out of the closet.
Already, images circulating online of deputy chief minister Eknath Shinde, his wife Lata, and former school education minister Deepak Kesarkar visiting a temple run by Kharat have caused a storm.
Rationalists and critics rubbish the supernatural powers these gurus claim to possess, while acknowledging their reach and influence. Hamid Dabholkar, state working committee member, Maharashtra Andhshraddha Nirmoolan Samiti (MANS) said, “They help create a cover for the benami transactions of powerful people because under the guise of a religious leader, they are generally not questioned for their wealth. This results in a quid pro quo situation.”
“Politics,” he says, “is a “cut-throat career and political leaders don’t believe in human solutions to their problems. They prefer self-proclaimed godmen to provide an antidote to the uncertainty.”