June 10 – Wild, Lost Country
I think that to a lot of people, the documentary on Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh and his commune in Antelope, Oregon is an expose of fraud and delusion (“Wild, Wild Country”, Netflix series), and it is. Bhagwan Rajneesh, aka Osho, was a philosophy teacher in India who mixed the teachings of Fraud with the Bhagavat Gita to come up with a cosmic way to have lots of sex. This brought in primarily Europeans and Euro-Americans who were searching for God but wanted fun, too. The heck with the ascetics of the holy life as prescribed by nearly all the religions; what they wanted, and received, was a way that would allow them to eat, drink and go bump in the night (and day and everywhichway) while still remaining in the bosom of heaven, saved by the guru-grace of Bhagwan. Bhagwan Osho obviously liked wealth – his 90 or so Rolls Royce’s proved that – and the well-educated and moneyed Euro crowd gave him all he desired so that they could feel blessed while they lived out their own desires in the sensual soup of the 1970’s. Both made each other happy.
So happy, in fact, that the organization, run by Bhagwan’s secretary Ma Anand Sheela, in 1981 bought a one -hundred –square- mile ranch in the high desert of Oregon and overran the tiny hamlet of Antelope, originally peopled by western retirees and ranchers. As the old folks stood by aghast, the faithful, or sannyasins, cavorted naked in the open and danced wildly into the nights. They took over the reins of power, became their own police force, built shops, constructed large apartments, dug dikes and irrigation canals for home-grown self-sufficiency, and worshipped the ground that Bhagwan walked upon.
There was love and fun and funkiness at the ranch; and there was horror in the old town. It did not take long for the old timers to call in the zoning people and the immigration service – many of the pilgrims were obviously not from the US – and the process of extrication and/or compromise was supposed to have begun. But Sheela and the sannyasins were not going to let compromise get in the way. They bussed in street people for extra votes to take over the county to control the larger government; they slipped food viruses into outsider restaurants to discourage voting; they took up arms and daily target practice; and they plotted to kill the DA of Oregon. They became a dangerous and disruptive force, and (of course) finally were defeated. Bhagwan Rajneesh was sent back to Indian, and Sheela and a few others were sent off for years to federal prison. With the leadership and source funding gone, the sannyasins disbanded, and the Great Experiment, as the Bhagwan called it later, was over.
Well and good. Many gentile new Christians back in the days of Peter and Paul also had thought that because their savior had freed them from sin, they could now sin, at least sexually, with impunity. They had to be told otherwise, and not just because it was not The Way, but because the neighbors also did not like the cavorting. The Bhagwan should have read the letters describing this in the New Testament more carefully, but, really, to him I do not think it mattered. Even though his followers believed him to be nearly a god on earth, it is apparent through the series that he had feet of clay, and not only because of his obscene obsession with wealth. When his secretary left him on a jet in the middle of the night because of jealousy and the attempted murder of Bhagwan’s personal doctor, he unleashed a well-publicized vindictive against her that included proof of her assassination plot and the use of viruses, which brought in the Feds and sealed the commune’s fate. The Bhagwan did not care, because it had always been about him. In this he showed himself to be an egomaniac of epic proportions, proving the oft-made accusations that he was only using his idiot followers for cash and power – even though the idiots clearly approved of the bargain. Free love and eternal fellowship for a few bucks for them seemed a bargain indeed.
And that is the crux that left me saddened at the end of the series. Of several followers interviewed for the series, more than a few had tears in their eyes when reminiscing on what the commune had been. As the once-lawyer for Rajneesh and the commune said, he had never known such love and total acceptance in his life. From the interviews, it is apparent that the original folks of Antelope, regular Americans all, had no clue as to why the followers had allowed themselves to be duped, beyond the license to have sex whenever and wherever. They had no idea that it was not just about sex, but about total love and acceptance as well.
I am one of those regular Americans; I live my life like those old timers in Antelope, and it is good enough. But I do recall my youth, my hitching days, when I longed for what they had at the commune: free love, yes, but the community also. How good it seemed it would be, but I found out quickly that I could never give myself totally to some imperfect holy man. This was, and is, a good instinct. The sad truth is, not even the spirit of Christ has been able to overcome (for most) the selfishness that we carry in our hearts, and because of this, there are rules for certain things – certainly for sex – that must be adhered to, in order that we don’t tear ourselves to bits. That goes for other forms of sharing, sooner or later, as well, and to all manner of total communion with our fellows. To succeed at commune at all, we first need a head guru who is nearly incorruptible – that is, one who can usually control his personal desires; and we also need a code of conduct that keeps our own selfish desires in check. Love must be coupled with self-discipline; in fact, true love can only be found with this self-discipline, for without it, what we think of as love fades as soon as our earthly self is no longer being satisfied.
Yes, too bad for us, and for the followers of Bhagwan, for they were destined for destruction in any case. They can hold on to their memories and blame the establishment for the destruction of Eden, but the seed of destruction was already well planted and growing in the massive ego of the guru, and in the loose passions of the followers. Too bad, because this forces us to understand that this life – regardless of the time or culture – has not and will not give us all we need. Shangri-La on this Earth is fantasy. It can exist, but only beyond the pains and passions of this same Earth. It is for this that the major religions train us to not dive recklessly into the joys of this life, but to handle them judiciously so that we might pursue the eternal spirit. In this, we are told, lies heaven, and those who say it are right.
But the dream lives on. I understand. The old ranchers understood that the followers were duped and doomed, but for the moment, it was they, not the ranchers, who lived a life of joy. Yes, too bad for us all that it isn’t so; too bad that the road to joy goes in the opposite direction to what we might wish. What a paradox; what a bummer. But thank God that we have been given the wisdom to find the right road, if we allow it.
I think that to a lot of people, the documentary on Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh and his commune in Antelope, Oregon is an expose of fraud and delusion (“Wild, Wild Country”, Netflix series), and it is. Bhagwan Rajneesh, aka Osho, was a philosophy teacher in India who mixed the teachings of Fraud with the Bhagavat Gita to come up with a cosmic way to have lots of sex. This brought in primarily Europeans and Euro-Americans who were searching for God but wanted fun, too. The heck with the ascetics of the holy life as prescribed by nearly all the religions; what they wanted, and received, was a way that would allow them to eat, drink and go bump in the night (and day and everywhichway) while still remaining in the bosom of heaven, saved by the guru-grace of Bhagwan. Bhagwan Osho obviously liked wealth – his 90 or so Rolls Royce’s proved that – and the well-educated and moneyed Euro crowd gave him all he desired so that they could feel blessed while they lived out their own desires in the sensual soup of the 1970’s. Both made each other happy.
So happy, in fact, that the organization, run by Bhagwan’s secretary Ma Anand Sheela, in 1981 bought a one -hundred –square- mile ranch in the high desert of Oregon and overran the tiny hamlet of Antelope, originally peopled by western retirees and ranchers. As the old folks stood by aghast, the faithful, or sannyasins, cavorted naked in the open and danced wildly into the nights. They took over the reins of power, became their own police force, built shops, constructed large apartments, dug dikes and irrigation canals for home-grown self-sufficiency, and worshipped the ground that Bhagwan walked upon.
There was love and fun and funkiness at the ranch; and there was horror in the old town. It did not take long for the old timers to call in the zoning people and the immigration service – many of the pilgrims were obviously not from the US – and the process of extrication and/or compromise was supposed to have begun. But Sheela and the sannyasins were not going to let compromise get in the way. They bussed in street people for extra votes to take over the county to control the larger government; they slipped food viruses into outsider restaurants to discourage voting; they took up arms and daily target practice; and they plotted to kill the DA of Oregon. They became a dangerous and disruptive force, and (of course) finally were defeated. Bhagwan Rajneesh was sent back to Indian, and Sheela and a few others were sent off for years to federal prison. With the leadership and source funding gone, the sannyasins disbanded, and the Great Experiment, as the Bhagwan called it later, was over.
Well and good. Many gentile new Christians back in the days of Peter and Paul also had thought that because their savior had freed them from sin, they could now sin, at least sexually, with impunity. They had to be told otherwise, and not just because it was not The Way, but because the neighbors also did not like the cavorting. The Bhagwan should have read the letters describing this in the New Testament more carefully, but, really, to him I do not think it mattered. Even though his followers believed him to be nearly a god on earth, it is apparent through the series that he had feet of clay, and not only because of his obscene obsession with wealth. When his secretary left him on a jet in the middle of the night because of jealousy and the attempted murder of Bhagwan’s personal doctor, he unleashed a well-publicized vindictive against her that included proof of her assassination plot and the use of viruses, which brought in the Feds and sealed the commune’s fate. The Bhagwan did not care, because it had always been about him. In this he showed himself to be an egomaniac of epic proportions, proving the oft-made accusations that he was only using his idiot followers for cash and power – even though the idiots clearly approved of the bargain. Free love and eternal fellowship for a few bucks for them seemed a bargain indeed.
And that is the crux that left me saddened at the end of the series. Of several followers interviewed for the series, more than a few had tears in their eyes when reminiscing on what the commune had been. As the once-lawyer for Rajneesh and the commune said, he had never known such love and total acceptance in his life. From the interviews, it is apparent that the original folks of Antelope, regular Americans all, had no clue as to why the followers had allowed themselves to be duped, beyond the license to have sex whenever and wherever. They had no idea that it was not just about sex, but about total love and acceptance as well.
I am one of those regular Americans; I live my life like those old timers in Antelope, and it is good enough. But I do recall my youth, my hitching days, when I longed for what they had at the commune: free love, yes, but the community also. How good it seemed it would be, but I found out quickly that I could never give myself totally to some imperfect holy man. This was, and is, a good instinct. The sad truth is, not even the spirit of Christ has been able to overcome (for most) the selfishness that we carry in our hearts, and because of this, there are rules for certain things – certainly for sex – that must be adhered to, in order that we don’t tear ourselves to bits. That goes for other forms of sharing, sooner or later, as well, and to all manner of total communion with our fellows. To succeed at commune at all, we first need a head guru who is nearly incorruptible – that is, one who can usually control his personal desires; and we also need a code of conduct that keeps our own selfish desires in check. Love must be coupled with self-discipline; in fact, true love can only be found with this self-discipline, for without it, what we think of as love fades as soon as our earthly self is no longer being satisfied.
Yes, too bad for us, and for the followers of Bhagwan, for they were destined for destruction in any case. They can hold on to their memories and blame the establishment for the destruction of Eden, but the seed of destruction was already well planted and growing in the massive ego of the guru, and in the loose passions of the followers. Too bad, because this forces us to understand that this life – regardless of the time or culture – has not and will not give us all we need. Shangri-La on this Earth is fantasy. It can exist, but only beyond the pains and passions of this same Earth. It is for this that the major religions train us to not dive recklessly into the joys of this life, but to handle them judiciously so that we might pursue the eternal spirit. In this, we are told, lies heaven, and those who say it are right.
But the dream lives on. I understand. The old ranchers understood that the followers were duped and doomed, but for the moment, it was they, not the ranchers, who lived a life of joy. Yes, too bad for us all that it isn’t so; too bad that the road to joy goes in the opposite direction to what we might wish. What a paradox; what a bummer. But thank God that we have been given the wisdom to find the right road, if we allow it.
RSS Feed