India, Pakistan, and the South Asian diaspora worldwide are deeply religious societies. Faith is not merely a Sunday ritual or a private belief; it is woven into the fabric of daily life, into the names people carry, the festivals they celebrate, the decisions they make about marriage, business, illness, and death. This profound and sincere religiosity is one of the most beautiful aspects of South Asian culture. It is also, tragically, one of its most ruthlessly exploited vulnerabilities. For centuries, genuine saints and spiritual teachers have played a respected role in South Asian society, men and women of genuine learning, asceticism, and compassion who guided communities through hardship, offered wisdom without asking for reward, and lived honestly. Their legacy is real and honourable. But in the modern era, a new breed of ‘godman’ has emerged, one who wears the robes of the saint while living the life of a billionaire, who speaks the language of devotion while operating the machinery of a criminal empire, and who exploits the faith of millions not to guide them toward God but to enrich himself and protect his own power.
This article is a frank and detailed examination of this phenomenon. It covers the lavish lifestyles of fraudulent babas, the psychological techniques they use to control their followers, the sexual, financial, and emotional exploitation they inflict on the most vulnerable, the political networks that shield them from accountability, and most importantly, the warning signs that every family should know. This is not an attack on religion or genuine spirituality. It is a defence of the millions of sincere, trusting, decent people who deserve to know the truth about those who claim to speak in the name of God.
The most striking feature of many fraudulent godmen is the extraordinary material wealth they accumulate, even as they preach detachment from worldly possessions. The ashrams and deras of well-known fake babas are not simple retreat centres for prayer and contemplation. They are, in many cases, sprawling private kingdoms covering hundreds or thousands of acres, equipped with private airports, luxury guesthouses, five-star kitchens, air-conditioned temples, private hospitals, and in some documented cases, underground bunkers stocked with weapons and cash. The Dera Sacha Sauda in Sirsa, controlled by the convicted criminal Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh, covered over 700 acres and was described by investigators after his arrest as essentially a private city, complete with its own infrastructure, its own police-like security force, and facilities that would rival a luxury resort. The assets of convicted godman Asaram Bapu were estimated at thousands of crores of rupees spread across multiple states, including prime real estate, commercial properties, schools, and hospitals. Nithyananda, who fled India after multiple criminal cases, reportedly used donations from devotees to fund a lifestyle that included luxury cars, expensive watches, private travel, and high-end accommodation around the world.
The personal possessions of fraudulent babas are a direct window into the nature of their enterprise. Gurmeet Ram Rahim was photographed in a fleet of luxury vehicles including BMW SUVs, Mercedes limousines, and custom-designed cars. He performed on stage in outfits that mixed religious symbolism with Bollywood spectacle, wearing rhinestone-studded suits that cost lakhs of rupees. His personal use of a private helicopter was documented extensively. These were not the possessions of a man who had renounced the world. They were the possessions of a man who had found a uniquely profitable way to own it.The late Sathya Sai Baba, despite his massive global following and genuine charitable work, was found after his death to have personal possessions stored in his private rooms that included gold and silver idols, enormous quantities of cash in multiple currencies, expensive watches, and jewellery — wealth accumulated over decades of donations from devotees who believed they were giving to God. The discovery shocked many sincere followers who had given their savings on the understanding that the money served the poor.
One of the most powerful tools available to fraudulent godmen is political patronage. Across India, politicians of virtually every major party have made public pilgrimages to the ashrams of babas whose criminal records were well documented at the time of the visit. Chief ministers, cabinet ministers, Members of Parliament, and senior police officials have been photographed seeking blessings from men who would later be convicted of rape, murder, and fraud. This is not coincidence. It is a calculated political calculation.These babas deliver votes. Their followings, which can number in the millions in a single constituency, represent a political bloc that no ambitious politician can afford to ignore. In return for public endorsement and the mobilisation of devotee-voters, politicians provide protection — ensuring that police complaints are buried, that investigations stall, that judges are pressured, and that the baba’s network continues to operate without serious interference. When Gurmeet Ram Rahim was finally convicted in 2017, the political establishment’s attempts to delay and derail the proceedings and the horrifying violence unleashed by his followers when the verdict was announced, killing dozens of people — illustrated exactly how deep this protection runs.
Fraudulent godmen do not randomly attract followers. They deliberately and systematically target specific categories of people who are most susceptible to their influence. The chronically ill and their families, particularly those whose conditions have not responded to conventional medicine. The bereaved, especially those who have lost children or spouses. The infertile, who in South Asian societies often face intense social pressure and shame. The financially desperate, who have tried every legitimate avenue and found none. The socially marginalised lower-caste individuals who find in the ashram a space where their worldly status is temporarily irrelevant. Young people from conservative backgrounds who find the baba’s followers to be a community of warmth and belonging.None of these vulnerabilities are character weaknesses. They are simply the ordinary human conditions of pain, need, and longing. Any genuinely compassionate spiritual teacher would address these needs with care and without exploitation. The fraudulent baba sees them as a sales opportunity. He knows that a person in profound pain who receives apparent comfort, healing, or hope in an ashram environment will bond to that experience with enormous emotional force. The manipulation begins the moment a vulnerable person walks through the gate.
Stage magic and psychological techniques are the tools of the fraudulent godman’s trade, deployed to create the impression of supernatural power. Many of the miracles associated with well-known babas have been thoroughly debunked by rationalists, investigators, and former followers. Materialisation of objects the apparent production of ash, jewellery, or food from thin air is a standard conjuring trick that can be learned from any serious book on sleight of hand. The baba who ‘produces’ vibhuti (sacred ash) from an empty hand has simply loaded it into a folded finger before the demonstration.Apparent healings are more complex but equally explicable. The Power of suggestion is real and documented patients who believe deeply that they have been healed by a holy figure can experience genuine short-term improvements in symptoms, particularly for conditions with a strong psychological component. The baba takes credit for these improvements, while the patients who do not improve are told they lacked sufficient faith, or that God willed their illness for a reason. The asymmetry of this system all successes attributed to the baba, all failures attributed to the devotee is a defining feature of religious fraud.
When a new follower arrives at an ashram or dera, they are frequently met with overwhelming warmth, attention, and welcome. This technique, known in psychology as ‘love bombing,’ is a deliberate strategy for creating emotional dependency. The new follower is made to feel that they have found their true family, their true home, their true purpose. They are surrounded by smiling, devoted people who share their background, language, and values. The experience is genuinely intoxicating, particularly for someone who has been lonely or marginalised.
Over time, this initial warmth is used to draw the follower deeper into the organisation, to increase their financial contributions, to separate them from non-believing family members, and to create a psychological dependency on the community and on the baba himself. Followers are encouraged to bring friends and family, to give up professions that conflict with their ashram commitments, to donate land and property, and in some cases to move to the ashram full-time. By the time the follower realises the true nature of the environment, they may have given away their savings, alienated their family, and have no clear way out.
The other side of the love-bombing coin is fear. Followers who question, who express doubt, who attempt to leave, or who report wrongdoing are told that they risk terrible divine retribution illness, death, family disaster, business failure. This threat is made in the most solemn and terrifying spiritual language, and for a person who genuinely believes in the baba’s divine power, it is an effective and paralyzing form of control. Whistleblowers who have spoken out against powerful babas have been subjected to harassment, false legal cases, physical violence, and in some documented cases, murder.The journalists and activists who have investigated Gurmeet Ram Rahim, Asaram Bapu, and other convicted godmen have faced death threats, violent attacks, and sustained legal harassment. At least two journalists investigating Dera Sacha Sauda were murdered before Ram Rahim’s conviction. A woman who filed a rape complaint against Ram Rahim waited 15 years for a conviction, during which time multiple witnesses were killed, and the case was repeatedly stalled. The message sent to potential whistleblowers is unmistakable: speak out, and you will suffer.
The financial model of a fraudulent religious empire is elegantly simple and extraordinarily profitable. Millions of devoted followers contribute small amounts — a few hundred or thousand rupees at each visit — which accumulate into vast fortunes over decades. Unlike legitimate businesses, these donations are largely unregulated, untaxed, and unaudited. Many religious organisations in India have fought successfully against mandatory financial transparency, and the income of many major derhas and ashrams has never been publicly disclosed.
Beyond routine donations, followers are encouraged to contribute at specific high-value moments — for the blessing of a new business, for a prayer for a sick child, for a ritual at a wedding or funeral. The more desperate the follower, the more the baba’s inner circle will suggest that a larger donation will bring a more powerful result. There are documented cases of dying patients’ families being asked for lakhs of rupees in exchange for the baba’s personal prayers, and of farmers selling their land to donate to ashrams because they were told this sacrifice would please God and bring prosperity.
Some fraudulent babas go beyond mere donation collection and engage in the systematic acquisition of land and property through their followers. Devotees who own land near ashrams are pressured to donate it or sell it at below-market rates. Followers with legal or political connections are recruited to assist with property dealings that would be difficult for the baba to conduct openly. The resultant land holdings of major religious organisations have, in several cases, been found to include properties acquired through fraud, coercion, and in at least some cases, violence against those who refused to sell.The management of these properties through trusts, foundations, and associated organisations makes it extremely difficult for authorities to trace the flow of money and establish criminal liability. Many high-profile babas have proven extraordinarily skilled at structuring their financial affairs in ways that distance their personal wealth from the organisation even as they live in its facilities, travel in its vehicles, and exercise complete personal control over its operations.
Several major fraudulent godmen have used their financial base to build commercial empires food companies, educational institutions, media outlets, and real estate enterprises that generate independent revenue streams while operating under the umbrella of spiritual authority. Followers are encouraged to buy the baba’s products rather than competitors’ products as an act of devotion. Schools and hospitals run by the organisation charge fees while operating under a charitable status that provides tax exemptions. The commercial and the spiritual become deeply intertwined in a structure designed to maximise income and minimise accountability.
The sexual exploitation of women and in some cases men and children by fraudulent godmen is one of the most serious and most systematically covered-up aspects of this phenomenon. The mechanism by which this exploitation occurs follows a consistent pattern across multiple documented cases. The baba’s spiritual authority gives him exceptional access to devotees private meetings, personal counselling sessions, and rituals that take place away from witnesses. Followers are conditioned to believe that physical contact with the baba is a blessing, that his personal attention is a divine gift, and that any instruction he gives must be obeyed without question as the will of God.Women who report that they were sexually abused in private meetings are often not believed not by their families, not by the police, and not by other devotees, who have been carefully prepared to dismiss any such accusation as the work of enemies seeking to destroy a holy man. The social stigma attached to being a rape survivor in South Asian society adds another layer of silencing. Many survivors spend years or decades in silence before speaking out, if they ever do.
The list of prominent Indian godmen convicted of sexual offences is long and continues to grow. Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh was convicted in 2017 of raping two female followers and sentenced to 20 years in prison. Asaram Bapu was convicted of raping a minor female devotee and sentenced to life imprisonment. Swami Sachidananda was convicted of rape. Nithyananda fled India while facing multiple rape allegations and charges related to the unlawful confinement of children at his ashram. Virendra Dev Dixit was arrested in connection with the alleged captivity and abuse of hundreds of women in his ashrams.Each of these cases required extraordinary courage from survivors and investigators. In virtually every case, the survivors who came forward faced not only the expected denial from the accused, but systematic harassment, threats, false counter-cases, and violence. The followers of these godmen — decent, ordinary people who had devoted their lives to what they believed was a holy cause — became in many cases the instruments of that harassment, convinced by the baba’s inner circle that the accusations were a conspiracy against God’s servant.
Among the most disturbing aspects of some fraudulent religious organisations is the exposure of children to risk. Children brought to ashrams by their parents for blessings, children enrolled in ashram schools, and in some cases children who live at the ashram full-time are in a particularly vulnerable position. They are separated from normal social oversight, they are conditioned from an early age to unconditional obedience to the baba’s authority, and they may have no frame of reference for recognising or reporting abuse.
Parents who have given their children to ashrams to be educated or raised in a ‘spiritual environment’ have in some cases discovered sometimes years later that their children were subjected to abuse, forced labour, or other exploitation. The trust that parents place in religious institutions makes this betrayal particularly devastating. Every family should know that no religious authority — however revered should have unsupervised and unaccountable access to children.
The persistence of fraudulent godmen in the face of well-documented wrongdoing is not a mystery. It is the predictable result of a political system in which religious vote banks are a primary currency of power. A baba with ten million followers in three Lok Sabha constituencies is worth more to a political party than any policy platform. His endorsement can swing elections. His followers, mobilised as a bloc, can overwhelm any local opposition. And for this service, politicians of all parties have been willing to provide extraordinary levels of protection.
This protection operates at multiple levels. At the local level, police officers in areas near ashrams are often either followers themselves or have been told by their political superiors that complaints against the organisation are not to be taken seriously. At the state level, investigations are slowed, transferred between agencies, and buried under procedural delays. At the judicial level, hearings are repeatedly postponed, witnesses are intimidated, and in some cases judges have reportedly been approached with inducements. The conviction of Gurmeet Ram Rahim in 2017 was remarkable not because it happened, but because it happened at all the obstacles placed in the path of that prosecution over 15 years were extraordinary.
The aftermath of Ram Rahim’s conviction was itself deeply instructive about the political dynamics at play. When the verdict was announced, organised groups of his followers rioted across Haryana and Punjab, killing over 30 people, burning hundreds of vehicles, and causing damage worth hundreds of crores. The state government’s delayed response to this violence — and subsequent evidence of political calculations about whether to protect him or allow the conviction — demonstrated that even after conviction, a godman with millions of followers retains enormous political leverage.
A genuine spiritual teacher, in any tradition, will point followers toward God, toward their own inner wisdom, toward the teachings of the tradition — not toward the teacher’s own person as the primary object of devotion. When a religious leader claims that devotion to him personally is the path to salvation, that followers must surrender their will entirely to him, that questioning him is equivalent to questioning God, and that his personal instructions override all other moral considerations — these are not the signs of a holy man. They are the signs of a cult leader.When a so-called saint lives surrounded by luxury — marble temples, luxury vehicles, expensive clothes, air conditioning, and gourmet food — while his followers are encouraged to give beyond their means and told that material attachment is a spiritual failing, the contradiction speaks for itself. Genuine renunciation looks the same from every angle. It is not a stage performance involving rhinestone suits and private helicopters.
Organisations that discourage followers from questioning the baba’s teachings, that present education and rational inquiry as threats to faith, that restrict access to outside information, and that create an enclosed social world in which all perspectives are filtered through the organisation’s own narrative are exhibiting classic cult characteristics. Genuine spiritual traditions have never feared honest inquiry.Any religious organisation that collects donations from millions of people but refuses to publish audited financial accounts is hiding something. Any baba who lives in vast wealth while claiming to have renounced material possessions has a relationship with truth that should be examined closely. The combination of massive income, lavish personal expenditure, and complete financial opacity is a reliable indicator of fraud.
If a loved one has become involved with a religious organisation that is discouraging contact with family members who are non-believers, that is encouraging them to donate property or money that the family depends on, that is positioning the baba as a higher authority than parents or spouse, or that is requiring increasingly total commitment of time and resources — these are serious warning signs that require an urgent and calm family conversation.
Perhaps the most dramatic fall of a fraudulent godman in modern Indian history was that of Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh, head of the Dera Sacha Sauda in Sirsa, Haryana. With over 50 million claimed followers, his organisation ran hospitals, media channels, and social welfare programmes that gave him the appearance of a genuine humanitarian force. He appeared in self-produced films as a hero in absurd costumes, and his events attracted hundreds of thousands of devotees. In 2017 he was convicted of raping two female followers — a case that had been filed 15 years earlier and repeatedly suppressed. Following his conviction, his followers rioted across two states, causing enormous loss of life and property. He is currently serving a 20-year prison sentence. The case demonstrated that no amount of political protection, devoted followers, or media management can permanently shield a criminal from eventual accountability.
Asaram Bapu commanded one of the largest spiritual followings in India, with millions of followers, hundreds of ashrams across the country, and close relationships with senior political figures from multiple parties. He was convicted in 2018 of raping a minor female devotee and sentenced to life imprisonment. A second case involving the rape of two sisters in a Surat ashram resulted in an additional conviction. His assets, spread across multiple states, ran to thousands of crores. For years after his arrest, his followers maintained that the cases were a conspiracy against a holy man — a response that illustrated how thoroughly followers can be conditioned to disbelieve even judicial evidence against their guru.
Swami Nithyananda attracted an international following, with ashrams in India, the United States, and other countries. Multiple criminal cases were filed against him, including rape allegations, and video footage surfaced that was deeply compromising. He fled India in 2019 while cases were pending and has reportedly established what he calls a ‘Hindu nation’ on a small island, continuing to attract followers and donations from abroad. His case illustrates the difficulty of bringing international fraudsters to justice when they have the resources and motivation to simply leave the jurisdiction.
Perhaps among the most disturbing cases in recent memory was the investigation of Virendra Dev Dixit, whose ashrams in Delhi and other locations were alleged to be holding hundreds of women and girls in conditions amounting to captivity cut off from their families, subjected to rigid control, and in many cases allegedly exploited. Raids conducted by authorities resulted in the rescue of hundreds of women. The case highlighted the degree to which, under the cover of religious activity, human beings can be held against their will in plain sight.
The phenomenon of fraudulent religious leaders is not confined to the subcontinent. South Asian communities in the United Kingdom, Canada, the United States, Australia, and other Western countries have their own networks of visiting and resident religious figures, some of whom have been credibly accused of the same patterns of exploitation that characterise fraudulent godmen in India. The diaspora dimension adds specific complications: followers who are immigrants may be even more emotionally vulnerable than they were at home, having lost their normal support networks; donations are often made in foreign currency and are therefore even more valuable; and the visiting godman is typically gone before any complaints can be investigated.
Several babas who have been convicted or have faced serious criminal allegations in India have continued to make fundraising and blessing tours in Western countries, meeting with diaspora politicians and community figures who may be unaware of or choose to ignore their criminal records. Families in the diaspora should be particularly vigilant about religious organisations that operate without clear governance structures, that collect large donations without accountability, and that encourage excessive personal devotion to a single leader.
It is essential, in examining the crimes of fraudulent godmen, not to lose sight of the vast tradition of genuine spiritual teaching that exists in South Asia — and that these fraudsters have debased and exploited. True spiritual teachers, from Guru Nanak to Kabir, from the great Sufi saints to genuine Hindu philosophers, shared certain characteristics that stand in stark contrast to the fraudulent baba. They lived simply. They did not accumulate personal wealth. They welcomed questions and honest inquiry rather than suppressing them. They taught the dignity and autonomy of every human being rather than dependency on themselves. They were consistent in private as they were in public. And their authority derived from the quality of their teaching and the example of their lives, not from claimed miracles or political connections.When looking for genuine spiritual guidance, families should seek teachers whose lives match their teachings, whose organisations operate with financial transparency, who do not require blind obedience, who do not make extravagant claims of miraculous powers, who encourage followers to maintain strong family and community relationships rather than withdrawing from them, and who explicitly state that no donation or payment is required or expected. Such teachers exist. They simply do not travel in motorcades or own private airports.
If someone in your family has become deeply involved with a religious organisation that exhibits any of the warning signs described in this article, the first and most important rule is: do not respond with anger or ridicule. Followers of fraudulent godmen have almost always been drawn in by genuine pain, genuine need, and genuine longing for meaning and community. Mocking that longing, or attacking the baba in heated terms, will almost always drive the follower deeper into the organisation, which will present your reaction as proof that outsiders ‘don’t understand’ and as an attack that must be defended against.Instead, maintain the relationship with patience and love. Ask genuine and curious questions about what the person finds meaningful in their involvement. Share this article and others like it without pressure. Bring in other trusted voices a family elder, a respected community figure, or a former member of the organisation if one can be found. If financial donations are depleting the family’s resources, document this carefully and consult a lawyer about whether any civil action is possible. If you believe a family member is at physical risk, contact the police and also consult civil society organisations that deal with cult exit and recovery.The recovery of a loved one from a fraudulent religious organisation is rarely quick. It requires consistent, patient, non-judgmental support over months or years. But it is achievable. Many former followers of the most high-profile fraudulent godmen have successfully rebuilt their lives, recovered their autonomy, and gone on to warn others. Their courage in speaking out is part of what has made the prosecutions and convictions of these criminals possible.
The exploitation of faith is among the most cynical and harmful forms of human wrongdoing. When a person opens their heart in genuine spiritual longing, they are at their most trusting and most vulnerable. To abuse that trust to take their money, violate their bodies, control their minds, and manipulate their deepest beliefs for personal profit is an act of profound cruelty. The millions of people who have been exploited by fraudulent godmen in South Asia and across the diaspora were not fools. They were faithful, loving, hopeful human beings who deserved better than what they received.The fight against religious fraud is not a fight against religion. It is a fight for the right of ordinary people to practice their faith without being preyed upon. It is a fight for the truth. It is a defence of the genuine saints and teachers whose legacy is dishonoured every time a criminal wraps himself in robes and claims the name of God. And it is, ultimately, a fight for the dignity and safety of every innocent family that deserves to know the difference between a man of God and a man who has merely learned to play the part. Share this article. Talk about it openly. Ask the hard questions about any religious organisation that asks for your money, your obedience, or your children. Faith is a precious thing. Protect it.