At the Allahabad Kumbh, Hari Giri’s six-year tenure as secretary came to an end. But using his clout, he got himself elevated to the post of ‘international patron’ of Juna akhara. Haridwar-based senior journalist Kaushal Shikhola, who has been closely monitoring the akharas over the last few decades, said that this change in Hari Giri’s position merely meant his withdrawal from the day-to-day functioning of Juna, and that he continued to retain the last word on all major issues. In the other akharas, the post of patron is merely honorary, and there is certainly no other ‘international patron’ in the world of militant monastic orders. Hari Giri not only created a new post for himself but also arrogated to himself a casting vote in the matters of the akhara.
According to Shikhola, Hari Giri would have openly forced his way on the issue of Radhe Maa too once the Allahabad Kumbh had ended had he not been bogged down by another problem. The Nainital High Court had ordered the Uttarakhand state government to demolish all structures that had come up illegally after the year 2000 within 200 metres of the Ganga. The first building demolished in Haridwar was owned by Hari Giri—a massive temple-cum-ashram complex with over two dozen rooms. The demolition, which took place even before the end of the Allahabad Kumbh, was accompanied by an FIR against Hari Giri.
But the moment the nagas and sanyasis withdrew from Allahabad after the last shahi snan, held on 14 February, and the office-bearers of the akhara met at its baithak in Varanasi, it was time for another covert operation to clear Radhe Maa’s name. This time, Hari Giri was successful, not only in forcing the akhara’s office-bearers to fall in line but also in ensuring that the decision remained secret for months until he himself chose to reveal it to the media. Hindi daily Dainik Jagran reported on 1 September 2013, quoting Hari Giri, that the enquiry committee could not find any merit in the charges levelled against Radhe Maa and that she would soon be resinstated. At first, this did not generate any significant reaction and it seemed like Hari Giri had finally had his way. But opposition started building up in Juna akhara within a week. Acharya Avdheshanand Giri and many mahamandaleshwars of Juna went up in arms, vowing not to let Radhe Maa enter the akhara premises. This deadlock too was reported by Dainik Jagran on 12 September 2013.
‘The chapter is more or less closed,’ Divyanand Saraswati told me in December 2013. ‘She is now asking us to return her money [which she had given to Juna for the title]. But what money is left now? It got distributed among the various marhis and nagas of the akhara. And all that talk about Radhe Maa giving us crores of rupees for the purpose is bullshit. The amount she gave the akhara did not exceed fifty lakh rupees and all of it has been distributed and spent. Returning it is just not possible.’
Later, in 2015, when the controversial godwoman’s name figured in connection with a dowry harassment complaint in Maharashtra, the indignation was felt in Juna too. ‘This is the kind of embarrassment you will have to face if you make someone mahamandaleshwar simply because that person offers you a lot of money,’ Divyanand Saraswati said. When the charge sheet was filed a year later, the police dropped Radhe Maa’s name from the case. Juna akhara’s entanglement with her continued until the All India Akhara Parishad added her name to a list of fake ascetics in September 2017.8
Within the akharas in general, the whole episode seems to have become a joke.
II
For the most part of their existence, akharas did not have mahamandaleshwars. The origin of this title, in fact, remains obscure and highly debatable. Most studies suggest that it gained currency only towards the beginning of the twentieth century, and it remained a low-profile post for the longest time. Only since the 1980s did mahamandaleshwars begin to proliferate, as peddlers of new-age spirituality, first slowly and then at a pace unknown to Hindu ascetics.
H.H. Wilson, writing in 1861, makes no mention of a mandaleshwar or a mahamandaleshwar in the Dasanami order.9 But, writing in 1953, G.S. Ghurye argues that mahamandaleshwars might have originated from the nagas’ quest for intellectuals who could counter the attacks of Christian missionaries. He writes:
To lead disputations with Christian missionaries was almost an insuperable task for the Naga leaders, who either had distinguished themselves in the wielding of arms or had traditions amongst them only of distinguished warriors. Added to the intricacy of the philosophical topics in dispute there was the difficulty of language. Nagas solved their problem by requesting some of the learned Paramhamsas among their Dasanami brethren to assume their leadership. […] These leaders of the Nagas came to be designated Mandaleshwaras. […] When a Paramhamsa becomes a Mandaleshwara, the Naga ascetics that are attached to or ordained into the particular akhada do homage to him and recognize him as their spiritual preceptor more or less in the same way as they do the particular Naga ascetic who ordained them. […] The spiritual preceptor, during whose life-time his disciple becomes a Mandaleshwar, gets the title of Mahamandaleshwar.10
Surajit Sinha and Baidyanath Saraswati, whose book appeared in 1978, however, assert that the origin of mandaleshwar had nothing to do with standing up to Christian missionaries, and was the product of a dispute between dandis on the one hand and paramhansas and nagas on the other.11 Dandis, paramhansas and nagas together constitute the Dasanami order and are initiated through the same rules of sanyas. The ascetics who continue to hold the danda, the staff, after having performed the ceremony of sanyas, are called dandis and those who give up the danda after seven days of initiation are called tyakta dandis. The dandi category of Dasanami sanyasis are invariably from the Brahmin caste, and the danda that they carry is a bamboo staff covered in saffron cloth. Shankaracharyas belong to this category of sanyasis. The tyakta dandis, on the other hand, are recruited from all the castes. They are futher subdivided into two groups: paramhansa and naga. Paramhansas follow the same initiation rites as dandis, while nagas have to pass through an additional stage of initiation, that of tang tode.
According to Sinha and Saraswati, until the beginning of the twentieth century, nagas used to attribute the highest honour to the dandis, whom they regarded as gurus, and in the Kumbh processions, nagas carried the palanquin of shankaracharyas, who were considered spiritual heads of all Dasanami sanyasis. ‘But in one Kumbha mela at Haridwar there was a dispute between the Dandis and the Paramhansas because the former were too proud of their being Brahmin and considered the Paramhansas and the Nagas inferior. At this, the Nagas together with the Paramhansas refused to pay respect to the Dandis. Consequently, the Dandis also refused to initiate the Naga Digambaras as well as the Paramhansas into sannyasa, as had been the established custom. This necessitated the latter to have someone from their own group who must be a Brahmin and who was entitled to act as an Acharya for the sannyasa. And this led to the origin of the Acharya Mandaleswara.’12 Acharya mahamandaleshwars were to come from the class of paramhansas, because paramhansas, like shankaracharyas, are considered to be custodians of spiritual knowledge.
Swami Sadananda Giri, writing in 1976, concludes that the office of acharya mandaleshwar developed in the last sixty years or so and that in the beginning there used to be only three acharya gurus or mandaleshwars—one each for Niranjani, Juna and Mahanirvani akharas—who used to accompany them at the shahi snan.13 Later, however, Anand, Awahan and Atal, the three smaller akharas, also instituted their own acharya mandaleshwars. According to Shri Mahant Lal Puri, Mahanirvani and Atal akharas used to share one acharya till 1922, when Atal akhara created an independent acharya for itself.14
Thus, the post of a mandaleshwar was originally akin to that of a priest who would initiate newcomers into sanyas, just as an acharya officiates at the sacred thread ceremony. The nagas paid him homage because he was a Brahmin and a learned one. A mandaleshwar neither had nor has any hand in the administration of the naga akharas, and is—as Ghurye points out—‘more like a Brahmin advisor of a king than the king himself’.15 In course of time, they started calling themselves ‘mahamandaleshwars’ to claim greater distinction. Soon, the title became cove
ted, and many paramhansas started spending ‘considerable money for getting the distinction’ of a mahamandaleshwar.16
Today, there are two kinds of mahamandaleshwars: acharya mahamandaleshwar and mahamandaleshwar. The former acts as a priest on the occasion of initiation, the latter has no such function. Again, while many mahamandaleshwars are affiliated to various akharas, only one is directly involved in the akhara in his role as acharya guru. The other mahamandaleshwars often own large ashrams and deliver religious lectures to the general Hindu public.
Over the years, the number of mahamandaleshwars has grown considerably. Sinha and Saraswati list eight mandaleshwars, including one acharya mandaleshwar, for the Mahanirvani akhara.17 Puri, writing in 2001, lists twenty-nine mahamandaleshwars affiliated to the Mahanirvani akhara.18 Matthew Clark writes that around 200 mahamandaleshwars attended the 2001 Allahabad Kumbh,19 a majority of whom belonged to Mahanirvani and Niranjani akharas.20 By the 2013 Allahabad Kumbh, Juna had taken the lead over other Dasanami akharas. According to an estimate of a senior official in the Uttar Pradesh Kumbh Mela administration, one-fourth of a total of 500 mahamandaleshwars that attended the 2013 Kumbh belonged to Juna.
Akharas often accuse mahamandaleshwars of having assumed the title themselves, without actually being attached to an akhara. The lack of transparency in the akharas’ records feeds into this and only strengthens the perception that this coveted title is up for sale.
In any case, the title benefits both parties—the ascetic obtaining it as well as the akhara granting it. From the point of view of an ascetic, the title of mahamandaleshwar enormously enhances his or her position in the eyes of lay devotees. The widening of spiritual appeal has great bearing on the overall income of an ascetic. To Dasanami akharas, on the other hand, mahamandaleshwars act as permanent sources of income. Ascetics desirous of this title not only pay the concerned akhara a hefty amount—the ‘white’ part, which is made public, is called pukar—for obtaining the title but also have to provide contributions to the akhara at regular intervals. For instance, mahamandaleshwars are supposed to donate liberally to their respective akharas during Kumbh Melas. From the entry of the mahamandaleshwars in the Kumbh area, which is carried out with great fanfare, to their accommodation and, finally, to their participation in the shahi julus, everything is arranged by their respective akharas. And all of these are paid services.
The Kumbhs and Ardh Kumbhs in all the four designated cities become collection time for the akharas. To an outsider, these offerings may appear to be voluntary in nature, but they are mandatory and fixed on the basis of a mahamandaleshwar’s ability to pay. Defaulting on the payment is dealt with sternly by the akharas. This practice has an interesting historical parallel. The relationship between akharas and mahamandaleshwars today, is similar to the one the akharas used to share with the princely states. According to Sinha and Saraswati, ‘These akharas were once collecting annual taxes from such princely states as Kutch, Jodhpur, Baroda, Indore, Gwalior and several others in western India whom the Naga ascetics had once helped in recovering their lost states.’21 This also explains why mahamandaleshwars started proliferating around the mid-twentieth century when princely states started disappearing.
The Kumbh and Ardh Kumbh are not the only time mahamandaleshwars have to cough up money. It is customary for them to contribute a part of their income to their respective akharas at least twice every year. Called guru dakshina, this sum is collected by the akhara during a formal ceremony called gola puja, where an idol made of sacred ash is worshipped. Akharas mould these idols in different shapes. Juna and Awahan make a lingam-shaped gola, Niranjani and Ananda a round-shaped gola, Mahanirvani a square-shaped gola and Atal an octagonal-shaped gola. Gola puja is conducted twice every year—on the day of Holi in March and on the morning after the day of Vijaya Dashami in October. The gola of Juna is a symbol of Dattatreya, that of Niranjani is Kartikeya, Mahanirvani’s is Kapil Muni, Anand’s is Surya, Awahan’s is Siddha Ganesh and Atal’s is Adi Ganesh.
First the nagas worship the gola, then they take it to the ashrams and mutts of their mahamandaleshwars. At these ashrams and mutts, another round of worship takes place, this time by the mahamandaleshwar who returns the gola along with the guru dakshina for the akhara, a sum that is determined arbitrarily by the nagas. They decide what each mahamandaleshwar is capable of paying and the latter has to oblige. Apart from guru dakshina, mahamandaleshwars also have to give bidai or parting gifts to each naga accompanying the gola.
Gola puja is an age-old practice in the akharas. Earlier, the roving nagas used to send the gola to a king to indicate willingness to enter into an agreement, and if the king accepted it—by smearing the sacred ash on his forehead—he was treated as a friend, or else as a foe. Now, this practice is used to extort mahamandaleshwars.
III
Despite the many monetary and other troubles that this title brings with it, sadhus and spiritual heads today still desire it. Radhe Maa is a well-known controversial example. But there are others too: take the cases of Martand Puri and Swami Nithyananda, mahamandaleshwars of Mahanirvani akhara, who were awarded the coveted title at the 2013 Allahabad Kumbh.
Martand Puri has the distinction of becoming the quickest mahamandaleshwar, only three months after taking sanyas. ‘I took sanyas on 29 October 2012. The acharya guru of Mahanirvani akhara, Swami Vishwadevanand Puri-ji, gave me diksha. I was sixty-seven at that time,’ he said. ‘My pattabhishek happened on 25 January 2013 and I became Mahamandaleshwar Swami Martand Puri.’
Vishwanand Puri played a catalytic role in Martand Puri’s transformation from a journalist to a sanyasi to a mahamandaleshwar. ‘I was born in Daraganj area of Allahabad. The baithak of Mahanirvani akhara is also situated in the same locality. My family has always been close to Swami Vishwadevanand Puri-ji. My close proximity to him, more than anything else, was responsible for my becoming the mahamandaleshwar,’ Martand Puri told me.
Journalists have often become politicians, on the lure of a berth in the Rajya Sabha, but Martand Puri is perhaps the first journalist to have become so close to the akharas that he ended up becoming a sadhu.
Once known as Madhav Kant Mishra, the swami’s new visiting card, as mahamandaleshwar, still has a whole list of media organisations he used to work for. He is polite, worldly wise and incorrigibly jovial. He told me that he was instrumental in turning around the fortunes of ‘most of the known babas’. ‘Even as a journalist, I kept serving sanatan dharma,’ he said proudly. ‘I became instrumental in the launch of most of the spiritual TV channels. Most saints and babas with a large following today used to live in anonymity till I enabled them to have a slot on these channels.’
Martand Puri considers himself an out-of-the-box mahamandaleshwar, armed with the intention of restoring the ‘old glory’ of Hinduism, and is critical of how mahamandaleshwars are cut off from the ‘reality’ of modern times. ‘The truth is, none of the mahamandaleshwars have thought about using the new communication media available as a means to promote Hinduism,’ he said.
Perhaps because of his long association with babas, he has mastered the art of vague answers when questioned directly about this role: ‘Had Shankaracharya been born today, he would have established sanchar peetha first and the four existing peethas later.’ Martand Puri considers sanchar, or communication, as the foremost tool in spreading Hinduism.
But what would Martand Puri, rather than the long-gone Adi Shankaracharya, do as mahamandaleshwar of Mahanirvani akhara? ‘Here is what I’ll do. I’ll find out how to use communication media as a means to strengthen Hinduism and spread its reach. I’ll talk to all the stakeholders and try to bring them on a single platform. I’ll require huge amounts of money for this, of course. But I’ll find ways to do it.’
When asked if he paid the akhara to be anointed as a mahamandaleshwar, he was indignant: ‘Why should I? Could anyone in the religious fraternity oppose my name? Aren’t all of them obliged to me for making them what they are today in the eyes
of the people?’
This sort of approach to religion—small scale, local and personal—is perhaps a journalistic speciality. Martand Puri is uber aware of the importance of launching a series of babas on the national spiritual horizon; it is a hangover that still grips him.
The other sadhu who was given the title at the same time, the south Indian seer Swami Nithyananda, silently joined the ranks of Mahanirvani akhara’s mahamandaleshwars merely three years after the scandal broke out.
During the Haridwar Kumbh in March 2010, a television channel aired a video footage allegedly showing Nithyananda in a compromising position with a Tamil film actress. When the news of the scandal broke, I observed that a number of ascetics at the Kumbh, many of them mahamandaleshwars, started surfing the net to see the sleazy video clip claimed to be recorded in 2007 by Nithyananda’s own driver. Soon after that, the swami went into hiding, but was discovered and arrested a month later from Solan district in Himachal Pradesh and granted bail after he spent fifty-three days in judicial custody. Currently, he faces charges of rape and criminal intimidation.
Nithyananda had been trying to obtain the title of mahamandaleshwar for a while and had been in touch with Mahanirvani as well as Niranjani akharas about this, and it was negotiations with the former that eventually proved fruitful.
On 9 February, just two days before the controversial Nithyananda was made mahamandaleshwar, Martand Puri went to see Vishwadevanand Puri. ‘Swami Nithyananda, Ravindra Puri [the secretary of Mahanirvani akhara] and a few others were also present. In fact, I had no idea what the meeting was about till I got there. I was aware that Swami Nithyananda was trying to procure the title, but I did not know that he would be present there. In the meeting, I said that we should try to reach out to south India, which was not yet attempted by the other akharas. Shankaracharya had united the whole country but we had left out the south completely,’ he told me.
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