Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 9, No. 1, 2010, Page 134
Art and Authority:
Foreclosing Creativity in Cultic Groups
Steven Gelberg, M.A.
Abstract
Creative, artistic work presupposes, most fundamentally, that the creator
exists within a relative state of freedom—both external and, more
importantly, internal. Authoritarian cultic groups—like all totalistic,
ideologically bound collectives—cannot abide free-thinking creatives because
of the latter‘s tendency to question the status quo and seek new ways of
being. In Part I of this essay, I discuss this issue from various angles with
reference to my own long-term commitment to the Krishna Consciousness
movement (ISKCON). In Part II, I describe how, in my post-ISKCON life,
immersion in fine-art photography inadvertently served as a healing path vis-
à-vis reintegration into the world, and became a new basis for personal
spiritual evolution.
No one, I think, can propose a definition of ―creativity‖ or of ―art‖ that will encompass every
nuance of the multidimensional nature of the subject, or satisfy all those who reflect on it.
But for me, the creation of art—music, painting, literature, dance, and so on—presupposes,
most fundamentally, that the creator exists within a relative state of freedom, both external
and, more importantly, internal. A free, self-possessed mind can create masterpieces in a
prison cell (as it often has done), but a mind bound by rigidity, compulsivity, and fear is
hard put to create, even within the most liberating environment.
In light of this, it seems rather obvious that highly structured, authoritarian environments,
particularly when those environments are fully internalized by those who inhabit them, will
be relatively unconducive to the free flow of creativity. This essay is, simply, an elaboration
on this theme, with particular reference to authoritarian religious groups, whether they are
―cults‖ or authoritarian expressions of ―mainstream‖ religions.
For seventeen years (ages 18 to 35), I belonged to a religious group that certainly qualifies
as authoritarian. Despite its sometimes-benign appearance, and despite the group‘s proven
roots in a longstanding religious tradition, from a psychosocial standpoint the Hare Krishna
movement (ISKCON) has always operated on a more or less authoritarian model.
Within this model, all truth, meaning, and salvation come down to us from above: from
Krishna (God) to guru, to those who ―represent‖ him throughout the institutional hierarchy,
down to the humble disciple. The new member enters the community in a state of impurity
and illusion, and then by submitting fully to the authority and control of those above him in
the chain of command, he can begin to receive enlightenment, happiness, and all things
worth having. Due to our ―fallen‖ or ―conditioned‖ nature, we cannot trust our own internal
mental processes to advance us on the spiritual path, and therefore submission to the
outside guidance of the guru is an absolute necessity. We are told which books are suitable
for reading (and how to interpret them) how to pray how to meditate how to worship the
guru what to wear what (and how) to eat how to clean oneself after defecating who can
have sex (married couples, and only to procreate ―Krishna conscious‖ children) what music
is safe to listen to (that which glorifies Krishna and the guru) who one‘s friends should and
shouldn‘t be and which people in the outside world should and shouldn‘t be associated
with, and under what circumstances. And we are generally drilled in all the awful, terrible
things that will happen if we leave the shelter of the community and return to the outside
Art and Authority:
Foreclosing Creativity in Cultic Groups
Steven Gelberg, M.A.
Abstract
Creative, artistic work presupposes, most fundamentally, that the creator
exists within a relative state of freedom—both external and, more
importantly, internal. Authoritarian cultic groups—like all totalistic,
ideologically bound collectives—cannot abide free-thinking creatives because
of the latter‘s tendency to question the status quo and seek new ways of
being. In Part I of this essay, I discuss this issue from various angles with
reference to my own long-term commitment to the Krishna Consciousness
movement (ISKCON). In Part II, I describe how, in my post-ISKCON life,
immersion in fine-art photography inadvertently served as a healing path vis-
à-vis reintegration into the world, and became a new basis for personal
spiritual evolution.
No one, I think, can propose a definition of ―creativity‖ or of ―art‖ that will encompass every
nuance of the multidimensional nature of the subject, or satisfy all those who reflect on it.
But for me, the creation of art—music, painting, literature, dance, and so on—presupposes,
most fundamentally, that the creator exists within a relative state of freedom, both external
and, more importantly, internal. A free, self-possessed mind can create masterpieces in a
prison cell (as it often has done), but a mind bound by rigidity, compulsivity, and fear is
hard put to create, even within the most liberating environment.
In light of this, it seems rather obvious that highly structured, authoritarian environments,
particularly when those environments are fully internalized by those who inhabit them, will
be relatively unconducive to the free flow of creativity. This essay is, simply, an elaboration
on this theme, with particular reference to authoritarian religious groups, whether they are
―cults‖ or authoritarian expressions of ―mainstream‖ religions.
For seventeen years (ages 18 to 35), I belonged to a religious group that certainly qualifies
as authoritarian. Despite its sometimes-benign appearance, and despite the group‘s proven
roots in a longstanding religious tradition, from a psychosocial standpoint the Hare Krishna
movement (ISKCON) has always operated on a more or less authoritarian model.
Within this model, all truth, meaning, and salvation come down to us from above: from
Krishna (God) to guru, to those who ―represent‖ him throughout the institutional hierarchy,
down to the humble disciple. The new member enters the community in a state of impurity
and illusion, and then by submitting fully to the authority and control of those above him in
the chain of command, he can begin to receive enlightenment, happiness, and all things
worth having. Due to our ―fallen‖ or ―conditioned‖ nature, we cannot trust our own internal
mental processes to advance us on the spiritual path, and therefore submission to the
outside guidance of the guru is an absolute necessity. We are told which books are suitable
for reading (and how to interpret them) how to pray how to meditate how to worship the
guru what to wear what (and how) to eat how to clean oneself after defecating who can
have sex (married couples, and only to procreate ―Krishna conscious‖ children) what music
is safe to listen to (that which glorifies Krishna and the guru) who one‘s friends should and
shouldn‘t be and which people in the outside world should and shouldn‘t be associated
with, and under what circumstances. And we are generally drilled in all the awful, terrible
things that will happen if we leave the shelter of the community and return to the outside
