With jarring regularity, the gates of an Indian high-security prison swing open for a prominent guru jailed for life for murder, freeing him to preach virtue to the millions of followers he holds in his thrall.
A flashy preacher with rock-star taste, Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh was first jailed in 2017 on rape charges and convicted of murder two years later. Yet, he has been freed 15 times on parole, and so far has spent more than 400 days outside prison.
Indian history is filled with charismatic – and often controversial – figures who commanded huge devotion. But Singh’s recurring freedom is seen by many as a grim testament to the enduring power of spiritual influence in the world’s most populous country – a place where, critics say, the scales of justice can be tipped by the vast political reach and capital of these so-called godmen.
Singh was released under a Haryana state law that rewards good behavior. And since leaving prison in early January, the preacher has wasted no time in spreading his gospel in a tranche of new songs published on his social media platforms.
However, the guru’s release has angered relatives of his victims, including Anshul Chhatrapati, the son of journalist Ram Chander Chhatrapati, who Singh was convicted of killing in 2002 for exposing allegations of assault within his spiritual group, Dera Sacha Sauda (often known simply as the Dera).
“I have been fighting for my father since 2002 until today,” Anshul Chhatrapati told CNN.
In a statement to CNN, the Dera said Singh was entitled to parole like thousands of other prisoners in the state. The statement said it had not been granted as a “special favour or indulgence.”
Singh is not just a guru, but a full-blown media mogul. He’s the star of five self-produced films, including “Messenger of God,” where he portrays himself as a superhero saving the nation. His musical output is equally flamboyant, highlighted by the viral song “Love Charger,” considered to be a hit among his fans.
The Dera was founded in 1948 by the mystic Mastana Balochistani in the Haryana city of Sirsa, near the northern state’s borders with Punjab, India’s breadbasket, and the desert state of Rajasthan.
The brutal cleaving of British India by its colonizers in 1947 had torn the subcontinent apart, unleashing a torrent of violence as millions of Muslims fled to the newly formed Pakistan, while Hindus and Sikhs journeyed in the opposite direction. For the people of Punjab and the surrounding region, life became defined by loss and displacement.
Who is India’s ‘killer’ guru and why is he out of prison again?
In this landscape of chaos and disrepair, the Dera offered a powerful antidote: community and sanctuary. Its mission, according to its website, was to create a haven for people of “all caste, religion, and race.” Its modern incarnation was forged in 1990 under its third guru, Singh.
Long before his sermons, the bling, and the criminal convictions, Singh was the only son of a landlord in a quiet Rajasthan village, according to the group’s website. Born in 1967 to a devout Sikh family, he was involved in Dera Sacha Sauda from a young age. His father was a follower, and by the age of seven, the boy was initiated into the group by its then leader, Shah Satnam Singh, its website said.
According to the Dera, Singh’s ascent to power is a story of divine anointment. On September 23, 1990, its aging former leader publicly named the 23-year-old as his successor, a moment that was “beyond the imagination of a common man,” the group’s website said.
When the young Singh took control, it set the stage for the Dera’s metamorphosis from spiritual group into the controversial, multimillion-dollar empire it would become – reportedly valued at 14.5 billion rupees ($161 million) in 2017.
In August that year, Singh was sentenced to 20 years in prison – two consecutive 10-year terms – for raping two of his followers in a case dating back to 1999. As the verdict was announced, his followers unleashed a wave of fury across Punjab and Haryana. Mobs attacked television vans and set cars ablaze as overrun hospitals struggled to cope with scores of injured people.
More than 30 people were killed in the clashes, prompting condemnation from Prime Minister Narendra Modi, who invoked the country’s peaceful heritage. India, he said, was the home of “Gandhi and Lord Buddha.”
Two years later, Singh was given a life sentence for orchestrating the 2002 murder of Chhatrapati, the journalist who helped expose the sexual abuse of women within his sect. Two of Singh’s aides were convicted alongside him.
For the journalist’s son, Anshul Chhatrapati, the verdict was a moment of profound relief after a fight extending nearly two decades.
“People say that justice delayed is justice denied. There was a delay in this, but when we got justice, it was a very emotional moment for us,” he said. “And it was a matter of great joy … that at least, even if late, we got it.”
India is home to a ubiquitous spiritual marketplace populated by an array of charismatic “godmen” and “godwomen.” Partly fueled by a rigid caste structure and deep-seated poverty, many of these figures yield a powerful following.
For millions at the bottom of the social ladder, often failed by the state, a guru’s ashram offers an attractive alternative: a place of dignity, a community that promises equality, and a direct line to the divine.
Raphael Aron, director of Cult Consulting Australia, said Indian godmen seek followers overseas, but it’s at home they find their most loyal audience.
“There was something about India which seemed to lend itself to the growth of these organizations,” said Aron, author of three books on cults. “There is a certain charisma about (the gurus). They know how to work the crowd. They know how to get people involved.”
A common currency for many of these figures, according to Aron, is a claim to mystical knowledge – the power to cure illness and solve life’s problems.
This dynamic has produced a range of figures, from the late Sathya Sai Baba, who claimed to perform miracles, to Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, whose appeal lies in his widely popular Art of Living Foundation, which offers yoga and spiritual advice.
Once the base of devotion is established, growth can be exponential, according to Aron. “It becomes a matter of numbers,” he said. “Once you’ve got a few hundred, it becomes a few thousand. A few thousand becomes a hundred thousand, and then into millions.”
Many so-called godmen have also been lauded for their philanthropy, praised for building schools for the impoverished and developing infrastructure in small villages. But their rise has also attracted a slew of criticism, fueled in recent decades by the grandiose lifestyles and criminal convictions of some godmen.
In the 1980s, Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, better known as “Osho,” paraded his fleet of Rolls-Royce luxury cars before his followers while wearing diamond-encrusted watches and custom-designed robes. Today, the movement is remembered less for enlightenment and more for its crimes – including massive immigration fraud and a mass food poisoning in Oregon in 1984, the largest bioterror attack on American soil.
And Asaram Bapu, known as “Bapuji,” to his followers, built a global empire with 400 schools and hundreds of thousands of followers starting in the 1970s – a legacy now overshadowed by his 2018 and 2023 convictions for rape and sodomy.
Despite some high-profile falls into disgrace, India’s spiritual leaders are widely revered. And, in a country where religion and faith dictate much of society, the relationship between these figures and politicians is often seen as a well-oiled transactional machine.
Gurus can deliver millions of devoted followers as a consolidated vote bank, and in return politicians may provide a shield of patronage, according to Ronki Ram, a professor at the Institute for Development and Communication in Chandigarh, who has researched Singh and the Dera Sacha Sauda.
Critics point to the group as a prime beneficiary of this nexus, an organization that has mastered the art of turning social welfare into immense political leverage. While Singh’s lawyer Jitender Khurana denies any political motive for his client’s paroles, his previous releases coincided with crucial state elections, fueling speculation that his freedom is a reward for the Dera’s electoral support.
This latest release coincides with a major celebration of his spiritual organization, the incarnation month of its second guru, Shah Satnam Singh.
The Haryana government has previously defended Singh’s release, claiming the parole provision acts as a “rehabilitation tool” and gives prisoners an opportunity to “maintain their links with society.” The government did not reply to CNN’s request for comment on the timing of Singh’s paroles.
Today, the Dera Sacha Sauda headquarters is a self-contained empire, sprawling across 700 acres. Within its walls lies a complete world with its own medical facilities, a cinema, shops, and large replicas of iconic monuments, including the Taj Mahal and the Eiffel Tower. The group even has an online business selling its own branded products, including pulses, dried fruits, cosmetics and hair dyes.
Singh’s carefully crafted image is part biker gang leader, part epic hero, with flashy vests and gold rings. In the video for “Love Charger,” Singh, clad in a rhinestone-studded vest with a lion embossed on the back, sings to an adoring crowd.
Sudesh Kumari, an activist who helped Singh’s victims of sexual abuse, told CNN that for years a climate of fear surrounded Singh.
“He says that ‘I am everything. I am god. You should do what I say,’” she recalled. “He is a very powerful person.”
For speaking out, Kumari claimed she was threatened, saying in a world of absolute control, justice felt impossible.
“There was complete terror here,” she said. “There was no hope that he would be punished.” The Dera didn’t respond to specific questions about these claims.
Followers like Amresh Chawla say they are drawn to the group’s tenets of vegetarianism and strict moral code, specifically the mandate to shun intoxicants. “His focus is to preach to stay away from drugs… today’s youth struggle with addiction,” Chawla told CNN. “We follow these rules. No one in my family drinks alcohol or smokes.”
Chawla was five when he was initiated into the group, and now instils the the same values in his children. He dismissed the allegations and convictions that put Singh behind bars as “baseless.”
“We are following his good teachings, and I am who I am because Guruji inspired me,” he said, using a traditional honorific that shows respect.
“I find peace when I visit the Dera,” said Chawla, who said he was overcome with emotion when he first came face-to-face with his spiritual leader.
“I can’t quite describe it,” he said. “Everything changed for me.”
Since his release last month, Singh has dropped more than two dozen new songs on YouTube. There’s “Drugs,” an anthem that preaches abstinence from intoxicants; and “Charge Me,” a request to the divine to offer guidance. Many of the comments below the videos offer well-wishes for the convicted felon.
Singh has time to drop a few more tracks before his current parole ends on February 12 – though the revolving door of the justice system in Haryana means he could be out again before the year is up.
Anshul Chhatrapati says each time Singh is released, his family feels a fresh wave of torment.
“All the victim families… we feel a lot of pain when it happens,” he said. “Like a wound has been reopened.”
