Paradise and Promises

This powerful narrative about being a student of Andrew Cohen for 15 years takes the reader on a poignant, sometimes ecstatic and often painful journey 'from love and liberation to painful alienation and, finally disillusionment.' The opening scene is indicative: three women are up to their waist in freezing water where they are expected to remain – as a punishment – for an hour. It is an incredible scene for our time, especially as the women intone one of Cohen's mantras, face everything and avoid nothing. He promised freedom, enlightenment and the destruction of the ego, emphasising impersonality. There is no doubt about his charisma and the heightened states experienced by the author and others, but it drew them into a mesh of manipulative hierarchy and subservient dependence where people give away their power and lose their internal locus of control. They experience feelings of guilt, doubt and inadequacy and become afraid of rejection. All this makes it hard to leave, especially as they are cut off from their families, who think they have been brainwashed.

In Marlowe's case, this involved breaking up with her husband (seen then as liberation) and taking her children on the journey. As you can imagine, this has a profound effect on them, which Marlowe only fully realises at a later stage. At the end of the book she fully understands how exactly the Cohen movement exhibits the standard characteristics of cults – the power structure, unquestioning commitment to the leader, mind-altering practices, elitism, us vs them, shame and guilt used to manipulate members, socialise only with group members. In 2013 the group was effectively disbanded and Cohen is still on sabbatical from teaching. If I compare Marlowe's story with my own, I can recognise some features – my parents thought me brainwashed when I took up meditation with the Brahma Kumaris, and likewise my association with Aivanhov and Peter Deunov. Group members are encouraged to think of themselves as special and families do not take kindly to being put in second place. However, what seemed missing from Cohen was the love that should be at the centre of any spiritual group worthy of the name. They did have a good outward-facing programme in London and I liked and respected the people I met there. Although this is the narrative of one person, it can still serve as an important cautionary tale as we try to navigate between social conformity in a materialistic culture and the draw of a fulfilling spiritual path of service and growth.