KCD’s Monthly Podcast – February 2025

Podcast transcription:

On and For the Record

A multi-part series

Analysis of Eleven Naked Emperors

(Review of Chapter Nine)

by Kailäsa Candra däsa

HARIÙ OÀ NAMAÙ

Aside from its institutional absurdity, a previously bona fide and powerful branch of the Hare Kåñëa movement of the Gaudiya sampradäya was converted into a hypocritical illusion–full of pretension, conflict, and maleficence–in the Spring of 1978. The conversion was for the benefit of eleven men and their sycophants. Those eleven, who took de facto control of the institution’s wavering governing body, captured the movement. Each prince imitated a mahä-bhägavat, and they divided the world into eleven principalities as their individual jurisdictions.

These were called guru zones, and the princes became known as zonal äcäryas. In that devolving process, they became self-appointed so-called spiritual masters, heralding themselves as Successors to His Diving Grace A. C. Swämi Prabhupäda. He had departed physical manifestation just months previous to this mutiny by his leading secretaries, who had hijacked the movement, imitated him, and betrayed him.

During the all-too brief time that he guided it (1966-77), Prabhupäda, the Founder-Äcärya of that branch of this Caitanya movement, had empowered it to become the most influential international representation of the disciplic succession in Vaiñëava history. Our podcast is going to focus upon the dissolution of that zonal äcärya scam during the eight years that it was operative. It is going to discuss how the conversion of Prabhupäda’s organization invalidated the movement, how it converted that international organization into the fabricated, so-called “ISKCON” confederation, and how all of its bogus gurus created only improperly initiated disciples.

It will concisely analyze the negative ramifications and repercussions of the hijackers, the leading secretaries who engineered the movement’s takeover via vitiated governing body imprimatur in the Spring of 1978. However, all of this will be summarized and discussed briefly. Near its end, the chief point of this month’s podcast will be to communicate the reasons of how and why the zonals cratered in less than a decade.

Materially speaking, there was no obvious or tangible reason why they should of done so. Nevertheless, the debacle did. What did and does that mean both then and now? Is there a silver lining to its fall? Even though the zonal deviation was replaced in the mid-Eighties by but another transformation, is there something to still glean from that epic fail which is spiritually positive? All of this will be analyzed so that you can understand the actual narrative of the Hare Kåñëa movement.

As most of you know who have followed my podcast for the last half year or longer, this month’s presentation is also a continuation of our multi-part series analyzing and reviewing (mostly, favorably) a book by Henry Doktorski entitled Eleven Naked Emperors. As always, we shall refer to the book by its acronym: ENE.

We have now reached Chapter Nine. The title of Chapter Nine is: “ISKCON Gurus Begin to Deviate.” To some degree, this title is a bit misleading. There is no need to fault-find the title but to simply mention—and Doktorski is in full agreement with this fact—that the deviations by the unauthorized zonals began well before the events discussed in this particular chapter.

Perhaps a more accurate title would have been: “ISKCON Gurus Begin to Deviate Egregiously.” Last month, we discussed a major confrontation of the zonals in early February, 1979 at Prabhupäda’s headquarters in Raman Reti, India. The zonals emerged from it having crushed, ruthlessly and unscrupulously, the devotees who had brought up legitimate points of contention related to Ocean’s Eleven’s gross and astral smash and grab of Prabhupäda’s movement.

The zonals wound up finally taking over in Våndävan, also. This gave them a full steam of triumphalist fervor, and that overconfidence foreshadowed what would soon come to pass in their movement. It is first described in Chapter Nine of ENE. There were subsequently shocking deviations manifested amongst many of princes, culminating in the cratering of the zonal äcärya scam in the mid-Eighties.

Let us now see how ENE opens this chapter:

“Afflicted by pride and ambition, a few of the ISKCON gurus began falling Afflicted by pride and ambition, a few of the ISKCON gurus began falling with alarming rapidity. As early as 1980, it was no secret in ISKCON that some of the new “uttama-adhikari” gurus, after hardly two years in business, had deviated from Bhaktivedanta Swämi Prabhupäda’s standards and teachings. Although the G.B.C. was concerned about the erratic behavior of several of the initiating gurus, they never-the-less believed that the dékñä guru zonal-acharya system they had established after Prabhupäda’s passing was legitimate.” 1

This is, on the whole, a good entry. However, it lends itself to an inaccurate interpretation if your understanding of guru is not adequate. None of those men were gurus. In that sense, they were already fallen. The falldowns spoken of in this excerpt are of the egregious category. Almost all of them are connected to äcara, or behavior. This is referenced when ENE includes “erratic behavior” in the excerpt. They deviated from Prabhupäda’s instructions more than they deviated from his teachings.

Of course, by creating a sahajiyä arrangement, their teachings on who is and is not a spiritual master were severely flawed. The guru must be a very perfect man. None of those eleven counterfeits met the bill. However, the falldowns discussed in Chapter Nine are going to center around äcara or standards of behavior for bona fide gurus.

We now proceed to the next excerpt from Chapter Nine:

“The entire zonal acharya dispensation, however, according to some, deviated from Bhaktivedanta Swämi Prabhupäda’s standards and teachings. First, at the March 1978 meetings, the G.B.C. incorrectly assumed that the eleven ritvik acharyas had been appointed as diksha gurus by Prabhupäda. Second, the G.B.C. resolved that future gurus could be elected by a three-fourths vote by the G.B.C.. On March 19, 1978, the G.B.C. resolved, ‘The G.B.C. will consider each year at Gaura-Purnima the appointment of new Spiritual Masters to be approved by a 3/4 vote. However, for 1978, no new Spiritual Masters shall be appointed other than the eleven selected by Srila Prabhupäda.’” 2

Certainly, the zonal concoction was a major deviation in and of itself. You cannot wall off gurus into zones. Any genuine guru must be both allowed and encouraged to meet his future disciple by the Will of Providence anywhere in the world. Zonal principalities would never be even slightly countenanced by any bona fide spiritual master.

And then we come to determining guru by vote. That is completely condemned. Godbrothers do not elevate other godbrothers to the post of guru by vote. It is patent nonsense. Even at the madhyam level, the guru is determined by the çakti of his own charisma and preaching.

Institutional guru means bogus guru. A guru determined by an ecclesiastical body via vote is an institutional guru. As such, if half of the vitiated G.B.C. (at that time, in the late Seventies) votes to recognize one of their own as guru, he lacks that three-quarters margin, so cannot be guru. However, if that candidate is able to recruit about five more or so of his comrades to vote in favor of him, then with the three-quarters mandate being reached, he is voted in by the Board to become a bona fide spiritual master? The whole thing is politics!

The opening section of Chapter Nine continues as follows:

“Some claim that a guru appointed by a three-quarter majority vote of an ecclesiastical body—in other words, an ecclesiastical guru —was condemned by Bhaktivedanta Swämi Prabhupäda, who cited a verse by Jiva GoSwämi—a Medieval Gaudiya-Vaishnava saint, philosopher, prolific author, and one of the six great followers of Sri Chaitanya Mahaprabhu—in this regard: ‘It is imperative that a serious person accept a bona fide spiritual master in terms of the shastric injunctions. Sri Jiva GoSwämi advises that one not accept a spiritual master in terms of hereditary or customary social and ecclesiastical conventions. One should simply try to find a genuinely qualified spiritual master for actual advancement in spiritual understanding.’” 3

ISKCON was converted into “ISKCON” when Ocean’s Eleven hijacked the movement in the Spring of 1978, utilizing vitiated G.B.C. imprimatur in order to carry out that mutiny. “ISKCON,” both then and now, is the glove, and the vitiated G.B.C. is the hand within that glove.

The G.B.C. was obviously an ecclesiastical body at that time. It thus, by a combination of its voting resolutions (which tended to change every two years or so)–along with the lie that Prabhupäda appointed eleven specific disciples dékñä-gurus in the summer of 1977–created institutional gurus, or, if you prefer, ecclesiastical gurus.

However, this is condemned in that statement from Jéva Gosvämé. It should be clear to everyone by now that the vitiated G.B.C. was doing its own thing—completely independent of the Founder who was allegedly its guru—as well as independent of scripture and standard Vaiñëava tradition for determining guru and disciple.

ENE then gets into the history of three specific zonals and their shocking activities in the aftermath of being appointed spiritual masters by the vitiated G.B.C. The chapter does an outstanding job of describing the egregious foibles of those three men, as well as giving some background info. Their exploits in their zones rocked the “ISKCON” movement in many ways, and it was forced to engage in damage control.

What this meant practically was that the G.B.C. was superior to the guru or spiritual master. That was controversial for obvious reasons, especially since the eleven pretenders had established the Äcärya Board within the G.B.C. during its first conclave after Prabhupäda’s disappearance.

Establishing that Board within a Board was urged by Swämi B. R. Çrédhar, who gave the leaders of “ISKCON” much bad advice in order to ruin Prabhupäda’s movement from within. This was accomplished very quickly. Indeed, once the vitiated G.B.C. recognized eleven unqualified and unauthorized men to be zonal äcäryas and to be worshiped as mahä-bhägavats, the movement was destroyed. It no longer was a conduit for deliverance from saàsara via the guru-paramparä, because it had broken its connection to the Gaudéya Vaiñëava guru-paramparä.

The Äcärya Board exacerbated all of that, obviously. It allowed the eleven men to act independently of G.B.C. resolutions. However, in one sense, the G.B.C. resolutions had no spiritual sequence, so it really did not matter. Of course, the G.B.C. and its loyalists—which, by the late Seventies and early Eighties, still constituted the majority of Prabhupäda’s initiated disciples—thought that everything connected to G.B.C. resolutions and mandates still mattered . . . and mattered greatly.

None of it mattered anymore once the major deviation went down, but the majority of devotees did not recognize this. Please note, your host speaker was not part of that majority, and I did recognize something was profoundly wrong very early on.

The zonal Äcärya imposition was The First Transformation. Three men created localized havoc via personal scandal in their zones of power after that Raman Reti confrontation. This lit a fuse for reform, but a guru is not supposed to be subject to reform. He is supposed to be a very perfect man. Their scandals created this major conundrum.

Although much of what then flushed out had commenced even before 1980, it was not known movement-wide. The three most badly behaved so-called gurus were Jayatértha, Hansadutta, and T.K.G.. ENE describes all their exploits in detail. However, I see no need to get into any of that or to reproduce those excerpts.

Instead I wish, later in the presentation, to pursue an in-depth analysis of deeper subjects related to the hijacking of Prabhupäda’s movement by the eleven imitation mahä-bhägavats. In doing so, I want to present an overview of The First Transformation. It must be comprehensive but not dependent upon the sordid details of the puss, which triggered, admittedly, the major backlash. That backlash could not be ignored at a certain point, and a Second Transformation ensued.

There were built-in contradictions in the G.B.C. making this attempt, which was only partially successful. In other words, the effort to rein in three men who had gone rogue (to such an extent that it was becoming obvious to everyone movement-wide), backfired . . . after initially accomplishing its purposes.

It especially backfired with Jayatértha. He crossed the river and joined the camp of Swämi B. R. Çrédhar. That Goudiya leader had voiced strong objection to the “ISKCON” governing body taking action against what he considered to be Prabhupäda’s designated gurus. This objection was based upon the principle that guru cannot be disciplined by non-guru. True as far as that goes, of course.

However, it was not applicable to any of what was going down in the early Eighties relative to G.B.C. disciplinary action. The gurus were all bogus gurus. The vitiated G.B.C. was just as bogus, because it initially gave them its imprimatur in setting the whole thing up, including dividing the world into eleven playgrounds for its enjoying princes.

The world was being flooded with bogus Vaiñëava gurus and their improperly initiated disciples by the early Eighties. Scandals became, slowly and surely, known to an ever-increasing number of the congregation. Reform thus entered the picture, but reform actually had no place in meaningful rectification. Only a major overhaul, a revolution entailing a return to square one, could have any meaning. The devotees at large did not recognize this fact, and the saga continued unabated, although a cry for change was in the air.

A big part of that was a major change in attitude relative to Swämi B. R. Çrédhar. The G.B.C. decided that he was the root cause of their problems in their movement. He was supposedly an elderly, laid back, well-wisher who gave advice and direction in 1978, but now the scheme that he assisted in creating—although the vitiated G.B.C. was responsible directly for its creation—was falling apart.

I am not going to say that the leaders of “ISKCON” were justified in deciding to make Swämi B. R. Çrédhar its scapegoat. That may have been their intention, but such a ploy was never going to work. They went all-in with him, and they are fully responsible for what went down after they did so. The whole debacle was an institutional delusion, with the vitiated G.B.C., as a body, primarily responsible for the initial transformation. Swämi B. R. Çrédhar contributed to it, that’s all.

ENE then mentions how “ISKCON” decided to scapegoat the Swämi. The following excerpt if found on page 173 of the Kindle edition of ENE:

“The G.B.C. condemned B. R. Çrédhar Maharaja for meddling in ISKCON’s affairs. Puranjana dasa, recalled, ‘In 1982 especially, Satsvarupa, Tamal Krishna, Jayapataka, Bhavananda, Kirtanananda, Harikesh Swämis and other prominent G.B.C.s all began to denounce Çrédhar Maharaja as a dangerous, unauthorized, even insidious deviant. Bhavananda Swämi, for example, began to openly lecture, ‘It is better to eat hamburgers than to listen to Çrédhar Maharaja.’ Kirtanananda Swämi, Jayapataka Swämi and other G.B.C.s even visited Çrédhar in Mayapur and insulted him viciously. Then a huge, practically unanimous G.B.C. chorus began howling, ‘Srila Prabhupäda never trusted Çrédhar Maharaja, he is poison,’ and so on.” We should note that this sudden accusation came from the very same people who had gone to B. R. Çrédhar Maharaja to get their new guruship certified in 1978, claiming that he was a trusted authority, etc.’”

TATTVAMASI

One major contradiction was thus revealed, and word of it spread. The Great Schism between “ISKCON” and Goudiya Mutt was its resultant. These superficial causes produced another contradiction: What was the status of those initiated by gurus who were excommunicated (Jayatértha) or, as in the case of both Hansadutta and T.K.G., were suspended and had their zones taken away from them?

Were their new people still initiated? Could someone initiated by a former institutional guru (who was then rejected by the vitiated G.B.C.) still remain in “ISKCON”? Could he still be considered viable for expanding brahminical activity in the cult?

Relying upon an obscure comment from recent Bengali lore, a solution the vitiated G.B.C. came up was implemented: It became known as “re-initiation.” There was a rationalization which preceded it, but that card from the bottom of the “ISKCON” deck was not pulled out. The rationalization was that any and all initiations performed by its approved gurus (post-Prabhupäda) were only legitimate due to “ISKCON” itself, not due to the status of its recognized gurus.

All such newcomers were thus allegedly initiated by “ISKCON.” Their link to the guru-paramparä was established by “ISKCON,” not by any of its agents or rent-äcäryas in the form of ecclesiastical gurus. Despite the high-flying era of the great pretenders, this hidden and underlying factor of institutional control now reared up from its subterranean influence. It had always been there. It had never went away. It was suppressed by the narcissism of Ocean’s Eleven, but some of them were becoming degraded by egregious falldowns, triggering its re-emergence.

This idea (that the newcomers were initiated by “ISKCON,” combined with so-called re-initiation), was time-serving damage control. It had not been previously preached or even mentioned. It was not part of the guru-disciple contract. It was never spoken about or explained by any of the gurus who performed initiation ceremonies in “ISKCON” post-Prabhupäda. It was unprecedented. It had no basis except for one remote quote by a relatively unknown Bengali pandit.

ENE quoted your host speaker in connection to my view of re-initiation:

“Eventually, ISKCON leaders recognized the dangers inherent in re-initiation, and some concluded that the disciples of fallen gurus were still connected to the sampradaya because they were linked to the paramparä by ISKCON. Kailasa-Chandra explained, ‘. . . some kind of better ‘adjustment’ had to be made, otherwise most of these newcomers would leave and/or join the Neo-Gaudiya Math. At least one commissioner began to advocate that these newcomers were still linked to the paramparä even if their dékñä guru was no longer considered bona fide by the cult. The rationale for this was that they were initially linked to the paramparä through ‘ISKCON’ and not through their guru.

Taking this concoction one obvious step further, since it was (and remains) an undisputed fact that ‘ISKCON’ was controlled by the Governing Body, the sanction of the Governing Body, in the form of its approval of its initiation process, confirmed that these newly-initiated devotees were initially connected to the sampradaya by the sanction of the process itself. This, of course, would also mean that any neophyte devotee could give initiation, since the ‘sanction of the process itself’ would be sufficient.’” 5

As has already been mentioned, unlike Jayatértha, Hansadutta and T.K.G. were only suspended. They could no longer initiate. Their zones were taken over by other “ISKCON” leaders. They were called “spiritually sick” in order to placate their disciples. They were sent into limbo.

This was anathema to both of them, but they had engaged in utterly unacceptable behavior which triggered this reaction. Swämi B. R. Çrédhar did not approve of the governing body disciplining what he considered to be Prabhupäda’s selected men for spiritual master. However, like almost everybody else, he did not know that they were never selected as guru by Prabhupäda: They were only appointed as rittviks.

Unlike almost everyone else, however, T.K.G. and Hansadutta knew. They thus had a potent trump card to play. They were in a position to upend the whole “ISKCON” apple cart and invalidate all of the post-1977 initiations—and the so-called gurus who performed them—in one fell swoop. T.K.G., with Hansadutta present and having introduced him to the assembly, decided to play that trump card. This went down at what was known as the Pyramid House Talks in the first week of December, 1980.

It turned out to be a negotiating tactic, but the other devotees at that assembly did not know that it would be only used as leverage. Basically, it forced the vitiated G.B.C. to re-admit those two suspended gurus to the spiritual master fold, because here is what T.K.G. revealed:

“(T.K.G.) actually said, ‘Prabhupäda never appointed any gurus.’ Tamal Krishna explained: ‘Actually, Prabhupäda never appointed any gurus. He didn’t appoint eleven gurus. He appointed eleven ritviks. He never appointed them gurus. Myself and the other G.B.C. have done the greatest disservice to this movement the last three years because we interpreted the appointment of ritviks as the appointment of gurus.

What actually happened, I’ll explain. I explained it, but the interpretation is wrong. What actually happened was that Prabhupäda mentioned that he might be appointing some ritviks, so the G.B.C. met for various reasons and they went to Prabhupäda—five or six of us. We asked him, ‘Srila Prabhupäda, after your departure, if we accept disciples, whose disciples will they be, your disciples or mine?’ Later on there was a piled-up list for people to get initiated, and it was jammed-up. I said, ‘Srila Prabhupäda, you once mentioned about ritviks. I don’t know what to do. We don’t want to approach you, but there’s hundreds of devotees named, and I’m just holding all the letters. I don’t know what you want to do.’

So Prabhupäda said, ‘All right. I will appoint so many,’ and he started to name them and he did name them. He made it very clear that they are his disciples. At that point, it was very clear in my mind that they were his disciples. Later on . . . I asked him, . . . ‘Srila Prabhupäda, is this all or do you want to add more?’

He said, ‘As is necessary, others may be added.’ Now I understand that what he did was very clear. He was physically incapable of performing the function of initiation physically; therefore, he appointed officiating priests to initiate on his behalf. He appointed eleven and he said very clearly, ‘Whoever is nearest, he can initiate.’

This is a very important point, because when it comes to initiating , . . it isn’t whoever is nearest, it’s wherever your heart goes. Who (you) repose your faith on, you take initiation from him. But when it’s officiating, it’s whoever is nearest, and he was very clear.

He named them. They were spread out all over the world, and he said, ‘Whoever you’re nearest, you just approach that person, and they’ll check you out. Then, on my behalf, they’ll initiate.’” 6

It was a breath of fresh air, but this was the early Eighties. No INTERNET. The means to spread ideas was position papers via copy machines or slow-moving word of mouth. Those two men and other leaders on the Commish knew that they could cover this revelation up before it reached any kind of critical mass. As could have been predicted, the two gurus had their suspensions reversed, they returned to their zones, re-engaged with their disciples, and everything got covered over again . . . just like it was previous to the Topanga Canyon talks at Pyramid House.

As expected, T.K.G. then sang a different tune. Hardly anyone in the movement knew of these machinations, and, for those who did, they acquiesced to their leaders. Things were breaking down, but the center still needed to hold. That center now became the vitiated G.B.C. The Commish issued a position paper which apparently explained everything. It was not the real explanation, however; it was only damage control. Chapter Nine closes by quoting this “ISKCON” propaganda:

“’It is the duty of ISKCON’s initiating gurus to sit on their vyäsäsanas and defeat the ignorance of the age by their strong preaching. Some of our men may have difficulties, but their problems are due to their having lost sight of Krishna for the moment, not due to sitting on a vyäsäsana. . . Arjuna also wanted to step down from his chariot and abandon the fight, but Krishna condemned this as a great mistake.

Similarly, it will be a great mistake if our initiating gurus step down from their vyäsäsanas. Rather, let them preach boldly by the side of Krishna as Arjuna fought boldly to crush the demoniac forces . . . So let us accept these failures and setbacks as pillars of success.’

Despite the G.B.C. paper, which attempted to rationalize the falldowns of so-called “uttama-adhikäré” gurus, more and more ISKCON members became disillusioned.” 7

Chapter Nine is a very long chapter. Your host speaker made a determination as to its essence, which is not immediately self-evident. We have already indicated this decision, so now let us proceed to that essence, which entails comprehending WHY the zonal äcärya scam collapsed much more quickly than it should have.

The Hare Kåñëa movement (in terms of an international organization) is neither a democracy nor a republic. Nor is it an oligarchy or a tyranny, although, once deviated, it can degrade into that. It is not totalitarian but, to the unschooled eye, it may appear to be so. It is not a monarchy, but there is an indirect element of monarchy (the transcendental autocrat) in it, although that element is on a higher level.

The Hare Kåñëa movement is, and must be, authoritarian. It is so at all levels. In terms of ISKCON (when it was bona fide), it functioned at the local level via spiritual authoritarianism. It did not, however, function as a Communist entity. Prabhupäda constantly deprecated Communism, and the Hare Kåñëa movement made little if any tangible inroads into strictly Communist countries. That is an established historical fact. Indeed, in the early Eighties, three devotees in the Soviet Union were executed simply because they were Hare Kåñëa members.

Then we come to the theocratic consideration. This is a touchy subject. The Hare Kåñëa movement can be considered a kind of theocracy. Bogus theocracies are always totalitarian, and the Hare Kåñëa movement can never be any such thing. It is a cultural movement, not an organized religion. It advocates and recognizes the legitimacy of totalism, but it utterly rejects totalitarianism.

Real theocracy is necessarily authoritarian, but not oppressively so. While it was bona fide, there was a distinct, viable, and authorized chain of command in Prabhupäda’s branch of the Kåñëa consciousness movement. That is always wanted, even at the granular level of guru and disciple. Consider this purport from Bhagavad-gétä, 3.30:

“The Lord instructs that one has to become fully Kåñëa conscious to discharge duties, as if in military discipline. Such an injunction may make things a little difficult; nevertheless duties must be carried out, with dependence on Kåñëa, because that is the constitutional position of the living entity. The living entity cannot be happy independent of the cooperation of the Supreme Lord . . .”

Accepting orders in the authorized hierarchy of his movement was integral and all-pervading in Prabhupäda’s arrangement, while it remained bona fide previous to the zonal imposition of the late Seventies. As long as all the authorities observed this principle rigidly—as the purport says, as if in military discipline—then everything progressed quite well. The intrigues and treacheries of Maya could be overcome as long as this injunction was honored. The authoritarianism of his movement had Prabhupäda as its capstone and functioned down-line from him.

Devotees were dependent upon their assigned sevas, which were determined by the orders they received from those in command directly above them. This did not make the movement a military outfit, but from one perspective, it shared something with that paradigm.

Devotees wanted authority. They wanted orders. The orders generally remained bona fide while Prabhupäda was still with us, but everything went into the crapper in the Spring of 1978. This only became apparent—as in, more and more apparent—when the egregious falldowns of many comprising Ocean’s Eleven became common knowledge.

Devotees were much more compulsive than society at large, because they functioned according to non-egotistical desires. Acting in that way did not generate karmic reaction, because it did not entail making choices based upon self-centered, individual desires.

They knew they were fallen and not in a position to determine whether or not their services—if individually determined separate from the chain of command—actually were connected to the guru-paramparä. Once the zonal äcärya scam surfaced, no seva performed in that movement was connected to the paramparä, including initiations conducted for the egotistical benefit of “ISKCON” bogus gurus. However, that did not mean that the fan immediately stopped spinning.

For a short while, everything appeared to be the same to most devotees (your host speaker not included) because, to a significant extent, superficially it was so. Ocean’s Eleven should have been able to exploit this for decades, but they could not. They blew their opportunity to enjoy like Prabhupäda (and they were all imitation Prabhupädas), because they went way too far. They imitated ostentatiously, and, more importantly, they criticized each other and fought amongst themselves.

If you employ higher intelligence (prajïä) to its analysis, these are the chief and deeper realizations to glean from Chapter Nine. These conclusions lie at the base of the falldowns and what ensued in “ISKCON,” and they became too much to any longer bear by the rank-and-file. This theme will be expanded upon next month, because Chapter Ten of ENE continues to describe how the internal breakdown of that pseudo-Kåñëa abhäsa-dharma degraded even further. Expect more on this topic in order to understand the deeper realizations intrinsic to it.

The colossal hoax known as the fabricated, so-called “ISKCON” is a pseudo-spiritual scam. It is very late in the game if you have not yet realized it as such. An in-depth analysis provided herein, for your edification and realization, is now provided for you.

You should have no inclination whatsoever—what to speak of compulsion—to follow any orders, routines or worship services promulgated by “ISKCON,” because all of its leaders and gurus are bogus. They have been so for decades. As long as that organized religion is kept from securing political power from behind the curtain, it will continue to be exposed, it will continue to degrade. The tainted preaching of “ISKCON” will then find its momentum checked, stopped, and reversed.

OM TAT SAT

ENDNOTES

1 Doktorski, Henry. Eleven Naked Emperors, (p. 166). Kindle Edition;

2 Ibid, p. 167;

3 Ibid, p. 167;

4 Ibid, pp. 173-74;

5 Ibid, pp. 181-82;

6 Ibid, pp. 188-89;

7 Ibid, p. 207.

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