Tag: guru abuse

From Yoga School to Sex Trafficking Network

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(Left) The Miss Shakti pageant described by former members of the organization. Participants performed dances representing Hindu goddesses during the group’s annual spiritual camp in Costinești, Romania. According to survivor testimony, the competition was presented as a celebration of divine feminine energy within the movement’s tantric teachings. At the end, women were encouraged to lose their costumes and dance naked.
(Right) Illustration represents a disappointing moment described by former members when selected women were brought to meet the group’s leader in a private setting. Several survivors have said the faded older guru greeted them in a bathrobe, and after sex made them drink his pee. Women claimed the encounter differed sharply from the expectations created by the organization’s portrayal of the guru as a spiritually extraordinary figure.

In late November 2023 French police launched a series of coordinated raids across the Paris region targeting a network of international yoga schools linked to Romanian guru Gregorian Bivolaru. Investigators deployed roughly 175 officers to search multiple properties connected to the organization. Dozens of suspects were detained, including the movement’s founder.[1]

Authorities allege the investigation uncovered a system that recruited women through yoga courses and spiritual retreats before subjecting some of them to psychological coercion, sexual exploitation, and trafficking. Prosecutors say the network relied on secrecy, spiritual authority, and tightly controlled living environments to maintain power over followers.[2]

To the outside world the organization presented itself as a loose federation of yoga schools devoted to meditation, spiritual growth, and tantric philosophy. Classes advertised esoteric spirituality and techniques for personal transformation. Students attending local branches often believed they were participating in ordinary yoga programs.

However, former members say the reality behind the scenes could be very different.

Their accounts describe a gradual process in which newcomers were drawn deeper into the group through friendship, spiritual promises, and increasingly secret teachings. And a select number of participants encountered the most controversial practices, which were framed as advanced spiritual initiations.

The story of one former member, Miranda Grace, provides a detailed glimpse into how that process unfolded.[3]

The Spiritual Entry Point

Miranda first encountered the organization through what appeared to be an ordinary yoga school operating in London under the name Tara Yoga Centre. At the time she was deeply interested in spiritual practice and had recently returned from India after completing yoga teacher training. The school’s curriculum seemed attractive to someone searching for deeper spiritual knowledge. Courses covered yoga postures, meditation techniques, astrology, tantra philosophy, and elements of Kashmiri Shaivism.

Students were told the organization practiced something called “white tantra,” which teachers described as a sacred spiritual tradition emphasizing energetic transformation rather than sexuality. This distinction was important because many Western tantra workshops openly incorporate sexual exercises. By contrast, the school presented itself as offering a purer and more traditional form of tantra rooted in ancient teachings.

Miranda later explained that nothing initially appeared suspicious. Teachers and students were warm and welcoming and the environment felt supportive and spiritual. Like many new members she believed she had discovered a serious community devoted to meditation and self-development.

The Founder and the Network

The broader movement behind these yoga schools traces back to Romanian teacher Gregorian Bivolaru. During the 1970s and 1980s Bivolaru taught yoga under Romania’s communist regime, when alternative spiritual practices were often suppressed. This period helped build his reputation among followers as a persecuted mystic and spiritual rebel.

After the fall of communism he established the Movement for Spiritual Integration into the Absolute, commonly known as MISA.[4] The organization later expanded internationally and began operating under numerous affiliated names, including the Atman Federation of Yoga Schools. Branches have appeared across Europe, Asia, and North America under names such as Tara Yoga Centre, Natha Yoga, and Mahasiddha Yoga.

Within the movement Bivolaru is referred to by followers as “Grieg,” a spiritual guide believed to possess advanced enlightenment and extraordinary energetic powers. Students are taught that he can accelerate spiritual evolution and transmit powerful mystical states to disciples. Critics and investigators, however, describe a very different picture. European authorities say the guru used psychological manipulation and spiritual authority to obtain sexual access to female followers and maintain a network of exploitation.[5]

Gradual Indoctrination

According to Miranda’s account, the group’s recruitment process unfolds slowly. New members begin with standard yoga classes and meditation workshops. Over time they are invited to retreats and special groups where the teachings become more esoteric. Teachers often emphasize themes of sacred femininity and the spiritual importance of sexual energy.

Women’s groups may include exercises designed to help participants feel more comfortable with their bodies. In some cases members are encouraged to wear lingerie or perform sensual dances framed as spiritual empowerment. Discussions about sexuality become increasingly explicit, though always couched in mystical language about energy, chakras, and sacred union.

Miranda recalled that the process felt gradual rather than shocking. The environment was filled with people who appeared joyful and spiritually advanced, which made it easier to overlook moments that felt strange or uncomfortable. Compliments and encouragement from teachers created the sense that she was progressing along an important spiritual path.

Eventually she was invited to join a more exclusive women’s group. Members were described as women who were particularly “open” and spiritually receptive. Inside the group the practices intensified. Participants were told they were exploring sacred feminine energy and were encouraged to express sensuality without shame.

At one point photographs were taken of participants and sent to the guru so he could evaluate their spiritual potential by reading their aura. Some of the photographs were nude. Shortly afterward Miranda was told she had been chosen to attend a summer camp in Romania.

The Romanian Retreat

The retreat took place during the organization’s large annual spiritual camp in Costinești, Romania. Thousands of followers from around the world attend the event each summer for lectures, meditations, and spiritual workshops organized by the movement. For many participants the gathering resembles a festival devoted to yoga and mystical philosophy.

According to Miranda’s account, the atmosphere changed once she arrived at the women’s villa connected to the retreat. Participants were required to surrender their passports and phones when entering the building and were only allowed to retrieve them when leaving the premises. Organizers explained that the rules were meant to protect the group from outside interference and to maintain a focused spiritual environment.

Women were also asked to swear secrecy oaths. In Miranda’s case this involved placing a hand on a Bible and promising never to reveal what happened inside the retreat or during certain initiations. Participants were warned that breaking this oath could damage their health, spiritual evolution, or even harm their families.

Another practice involved filming participants naked while they slowly turned in a circle. Organizers told them the recordings would allow the guru to read their aura and determine their spiritual level.

During the retreat the guru himself was spoken about in increasingly reverential terms. Teachers and senior members described him as a spiritual guide whose consciousness operated beyond ordinary human limitations. Followers shared stories about profound spiritual transformations they said they had experienced through his teachings.

One of the most prominent events at the camp was the Miss Shakti pageant. The competition was presented as a celebration of divine feminine energy inspired by Hindu goddess traditions. At the beginning participants wore elaborate costumes and performed choreographed dances meant to embody different goddesses. As the competition progressed, the performances became increasingly sexualized. By the final stage the remaining contestants appeared nude on stage. According to Miranda, the winner received the prize of a special spiritual relationship and guidance from the guru for one year.

The Secret Trip

After the retreat Miranda was invited to meet Bivolaru personally. The journey was conducted under strict secrecy. Participants were instructed to tell friends and family they were attending a silent retreat and would not be reachable.

During the drive toward Paris the women were given hats and sunglasses and told to keep them pulled down so they could not see where they were going. If police stopped the vehicle they were instructed to say they were simply traveling on a yoga holiday.

When they arrived at a house outside Paris their phones, passports, and bank cards were confiscated. Organizers said electronic devices interfered with spiritual energy and that documents had to be stored safely. In practice the measures ensured that the women had no independent means of communication or travel.

Inside the house they were required to read long documents describing tantric sexual techniques, watch videos, and write reflections about spiritual experiences. Participants were filmed naked again so the guru could supposedly analyze their energy. Several women slept in each bedroom while new arrivals appeared frequently. Investigators who later raided similar properties reported finding dozens of women living in crowded conditions under tight supervision.[6]

The Initiation

Eventually Miranda was taken to meet the guru. Her first reaction was confusion. She had expected a powerful spiritual figure but instead encountered an elderly man in a bathrobe.

Despite feeling no attraction, she felt enormous pressure to proceed. Every woman she knew in the organization had supposedly undergone the same initiation. Refusing would mean failing spiritually and losing her entire community.

She later described dissociating during the experience. Afterward she was required to record a positive testimonial while naked on camera describing the encounter as spiritually meaningful.[3]

Economic Exploitation

Miranda was later transferred to another house described as a spiritual integration center. In reality it functioned as a camgirl studio. Women worked shifts on adult websites while being told the activity was a form of spiritual volunteering known as karma yoga.

The payment structure was confusing. Food, housing, and fines were deducted from earnings, leaving many participants with little or no money. Former members say similar operations existed across several countries, including webcam studios, erotic film projects, massage centers, and clubs staffed by female disciples.

Investigators believe these businesses generated substantial income for the organization.

The 2023 Police Raids

Years of complaints from former members eventually led to a large international investigation. On November 28, 2023 French police carried out coordinated raids targeting properties connected to the network.[1]

Authorities arrested dozens of suspects and placed several in pretrial detention. Bivolaru himself was arrested in Paris, where police reportedly discovered large sums of cash during the search.[7] Investigators also reported finding dozens of women living in crowded conditions at locations linked to the case.[6]

Prosecutors allege the organization used spiritual ideology and psychological pressure to control followers and obtain sexual access to women. The guru denies the accusations and supporters claim the investigation is politically motivated. The case is expected to move toward trial in the coming years.

The “Golden Elixir” Practice

One of the most unusual doctrines described by former members involves a ritual referred to inside the organization as the “golden elixir.” According to Miranda’s testimony, women were taught that after prolonged tantric intercourse the body’s fluids become spiritually transformed into a sacred substance containing a person’s highest energetic essence.[3]

Within the ritual, urine produced after the sexual act was described as a powerful elixir capable of transmitting spiritual energy between partners. Participants were told that consuming or exchanging the substance allowed practitioners to absorb each other’s spiritual qualities and accelerate enlightenment.

The terminology appears to borrow from several older esoteric traditions. In Taoist internal alchemy, texts sometimes refer to symbolic “elixirs of immortality” created through meditation and breath practices that refine the body’s vital energy. These teachings describe internal energetic processes rather than literal bodily fluids.

Classical tantric traditions also contain symbolic references to sexual energy and bodily substances as vehicles for spiritual transformation. However, scholars note that the specific ritual described by survivors does not appear in historical tantric texts and appears to be a modern interpretation developed within the group’s teachings.

Former members say the doctrine functioned as a powerful form of conditioning. By framing extreme sexual practices as advanced spiritual techniques, it helped normalize behaviors that many participants would otherwise have found disturbing.

Why Systems Like This Work

Stories like Miranda’s often provoke disbelief. It is tempting to ask how intelligent people could become involved in such situations.

But the structure of these organizations explains much of the dynamic. People do not join a cult on the first day. They join yoga classes, meditation groups, and spiritual communities. The most extreme practices appear only after months or years of gradual escalation.

By that point members often have close friendships, romantic relationships, housing arrangements, and spiritual identities tied to the organization. Leaving can mean losing an entire social world and admitting that a deeply held belief system may have been deceptive.

That psychological trap is one of the most powerful control mechanisms any high-demand spiritual group can create.

When the Pattern Appears in Other Traditions

At first glance the story of the Romanian yoga network may appear to be an extreme and unusual case. It is easy to assume that such dynamics occur only in fringe spiritual movements operating outside established religious traditions.

Yet similar patterns have appeared in many different spiritual communities where authority becomes concentrated in the hands of revered teachers and questioning that authority is discouraged.

My own experience practicing within Tibetan Buddhist communities made this reality difficult to ignore. Within Vajrayana Buddhism, devotion to the guru is considered a central element of the spiritual path. Students are taught that the teacher embodies enlightened wisdom and that maintaining trust in the guru is essential for progress. In traditional teachings, breaking that bond of devotion can be described as creating extremely serious karmic consequences.[8]

In theory these teachings are meant to cultivate trust between teacher and student. In practice they can create environments where misconduct becomes difficult to challenge. When a teacher is viewed as spiritually infallible, ethical concerns can be reframed as failures of devotion.

Recent reports from the Samye Ling Buddhist community in Scotland illustrate how such dynamics can arise. Samye Ling is one of the oldest Tibetan Buddhist centers in the West and has played a major role in introducing Tibetan Buddhism to Europe. Yet accounts published by former practitioners describe allegations of bullying, coercion, sexual abuse, and misuse of tantric authority during retreats connected with some of the teachers associated with the community.[9]

According to reports compiled from former residents and retreat participants, several women had previously raised complaints about intimidation and psychological pressure during extended retreats on Holy Isle, the island retreat center connected with Samye Ling.[9] Some accounts describe the use of tantra in ways that participants experienced as coercive or abusive.

One particularly tragic case involved the reported suicide of a woman after participating in a long retreat associated with the center. Statements shared by members of a survivors’ support group suggest she had previously expressed distress about bullying by the guru during the retreat experience.[10]

These reports do not describe the same type of organized trafficking network alleged in the Romanian case. The situations are different in important ways. Yet the structural similarities are striking. In both contexts spiritual authority can become so elevated that criticism becomes socially and psychologically dangerous. Students may feel pressured to reinterpret discomfort as evidence of their own spiritual shortcomings rather than possible misconduct by a teacher.

Over time this dynamic can lead people to reinterpret harm as a path to spiritual progress and to ignore red flags.

Recognizing this pattern reveals a recurring vulnerability that appears whenever secrecy, hierarchical authority, and devotion converge around charismatic and powerful spiritual leaders.

Examining that vulnerability openly may be one of the most important steps spiritual communities can take if they hope to prevent similar harm in the future.

The story that began with a Romanian yoga movement ultimately points to a broader issue that reaches far beyond a single organization or religious tradition. Whenever spiritual authority becomes insulated from scrutiny, secrecy surrounds advanced teachings, and students are taught that questioning a teacher is a spiritual failure, the same dynamics emerge again and again. For many survivors, the hardest realization is that practices once presented as sacred were used to enforce silence, obedience, and harm. Understanding the patterns that recur in high-demand spiritual groups is one important way people can be protected from those who seek to misuse them.

Note: In recent years the controversy surrounding the Romanian yoga movement has begun to attract wider public attention. A new documentary series titled Twisted Yoga on Apple TV examines allegations surrounding the organization and its founder, drawing on interviews with former members and investigative reporting. Independent researchers have also compiled information and survivor testimony through the website Atman Cult Alert, which tracks developments related to the network and its affiliated schools. Several podcast series have explored the story in depth as well, including The Bad Guru from the BBC in the United Kingdom, Toxic Tantra produced in Germany, and The Road to Paradise, a Danish podcast investigating the organization’s activities in Europe. Together these projects reflect a growing international effort to understand how the movement expanded across multiple countries and how former members say they were drawn into its inner circles and exploited.

Footnotes

  1. International reporting on the November 2023 French police raids targeting the Atman Federation and related yoga organizations.
  2. Statements from French prosecutors describing trafficking and organized crime charges connected to the investigation.
  3. Miranda Grace interview on the YouTube channel Cults to Consciousness describing her experiences inside the Tara Yoga / Atman network.
  4. Historical background on Gregorian Bivolaru and the Movement for Spiritual Integration into the Absolute (MISA).
  5. Investigative reporting describing allegations of psychological manipulation and exploitation linked to the organization.
  6. Reports from French authorities describing conditions discovered in properties raided during the investigation.
  7. Media coverage describing the arrest of Gregorian Bivolaru and seizure of cash during searches in Paris.
  8. Discussions in Vajrayana Buddhist literature regarding the seriousness of breaking devotion to one’s guru.
  9. Reports compiled by Dakini Translations regarding allegations of misconduct and bullying involving Drupon Karma Lhabu and teachers connected with Samye Ling and Holy Isle retreats.
  10. Reporting and survivor statements regarding the death of a woman following participation in a retreat associated with the Samye Ling community.

The Tantric Image That Is Never Explained

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Among the many images that circulate quietly within Tibetan tantric lineages, there are several that are never explained to most practitioners and never shown outside advanced ritual contexts. One such image, often embedded within long Mahākāla rites and other high-level tantric liturgies, depicts a bound, pierced, weapon-studded human figure marked with mantras, seals, and symbolic restraints. To the uninitiated, it resembles a wrathful medical diagram or an esoteric curse talisman. To insiders, it represents something much more disturbing.

These images are not symbolic reminders of compassion, nor are they abstract metaphors for ego-death. They are ritual instruments. Specifically, they are used in rites intended to punish, bind, obstruct, or destroy the lives of those who are deemed to have broken samaya—the sacred vows binding a tantric practitioner to their guru, lineage, and yidam deity.

This fact is rarely discussed openly. When it is mentioned at all, it is framed euphemistically as “removing obstacles,” “protecting the Dharma,” or “subjugating harmful forces.” What is almost never acknowledged is that, within some tantric systems, the “harmful force” being targeted is a former disciple.

Why Beginners Are Never Told

Students entering Tibetan Buddhism are typically introduced through ethics, meditation, philosophy, and aspirational ideals: loving-kindness, compassion, non-violence, and wisdom. Tantric Buddhism is presented as a fast but benevolent path, dangerous only insofar as it requires devotion and discipline.

What they are not told is that questioning, criticizing, or emotionally reacting to a guru can itself be framed as a samaya violation. Nor are they told that certain rituals explicitly teach that lineage holders have the right, and sometimes the obligation, to retaliate metaphysically against perceived betrayal.

Beginners are warned vaguely that breaking samaya leads to “terrible consequences,” often described as karmic rather than intentional. The implication is that the universe itself will respond. What is left unsaid is that these consequences may be deliberately invoked, ritualized, and sustained by human agents acting within a tantric framework.

The unspoken lesson is simple: dissent is dangerous.

The Yidam Is Watching

At the core of highest yoga tantra is the yidam deity, the meditational deity with whom the practitioner forms an exclusive, intimate bond. The yidam is not merely visualized as an external symbol but is gradually internalized, embodied, and ultimately identified with as one’s own enlightened nature.

This process is often described in modern terms as psychological transformation. In traditional terms, however, it is far closer to classical possession.

The practitioner receives initiation from a master understood to be fully realized–meaning fully inhabited by the yidam. Through empowerment, mantra recitation, repeated visualization, and ritual invitation, the practitioner repeatedly invites the deity to enter their body and mind. Over time, the boundary between practitioner and deity is intentionally dissolved.

This is how the yidam “monitors” the practitioner: not metaphorically, but through total psychic access. Thoughts, emotions, doubts, and impulses are no longer private. They are offerings or offenses.

Within this framework, enlightenment, siddhis, and protection are granted conditionally. The deity gives, and the deity can withhold. More disturbingly, the deity can retaliate.

“Sons” of the Deity and Absolute Obedience

Advanced tantric systems often refer to lineage masters as the “sons” of the yidam. These are the men who have fully merged with the deity through practice. Disrespecting such a figure is not treated as a social conflict or ethical disagreement; it is framed as an attack on the deity itself.

This becomes especially dangerous in cases involving sexual relationships between guru and disciple. While not every such relationship is abusive, many are. In some cases, a guru expects sexual access as a demonstration of devotion and service. When the disciple becomes distressed, confused, or resistant, or when she later speaks out, the guru’s response is not accountability but punishment.

From within the tantric logic, the guru is not merely a man abusing power. He is a god-being whose will cannot be questioned. The disciple’s suffering is reframed as karmic purification or divine retribution.

Ritual Retaliation Is Real

There is a tendency among modern defenders of Tibetan Buddhism to dismiss accounts of retaliation as superstition or paranoia. Yet whistleblowers, both Western and Asian, have repeatedly documented actions taken against former disciples over months or years. In the most extreme cases, these are not momentary curses but sustained practices intended to ruin health, relationships, livelihood, and sanity.

I personally have known three gurus who engaged in such retaliatory behavior. These were not fringe figures. They were respected, accomplished masters with devoted followings. The rituals were not symbolic. They were methodical, intentional, and experienced by the practitioners themselves to be effective.

This is witchcraft in the plain sense of the word. It is no different in structure or intent from Haitian vodou curses or European malefic magic. The only difference is the religious branding.

The Ethical Contradiction at the Heart of Tantra

This raises an unavoidable question: how can a system that claims descent from the historical Buddha whose teachings emphasize non-harming, restraint, and compassion contain practices that deliberately destroy human lives?

The answer lies in tantric exceptionalism. Within these systems, ordinary Buddhist ethics are considered provisional. Once one enters the tantric domain, morality becomes subordinate to obedience, secrecy, and power. A guru possessed by a wrathful deity is no longer bound by conventional ethics because the deity is not.

Publicly, tantric masters speak constantly of compassion and loving-kindness. They smile, bless, and perform virtue with great skill. Privately, nothing is free. Every empowerment creates obligations. Every vow tightens the noose. And the deeper one goes, the more rigid and unforgiving the system becomes.

The Real Danger

Not all Tibetan Buddhist teachers engage in these practices. Many do not. But the fact that some of the most accomplished masters have done so for centuries means the danger is structural, not incidental.

The real threat of tantric Buddhism is that it weaponizes devotion, sanctifies possession, and normalizes ritual violence while hiding behind the language of Buddhist compassion and enlightenment.

Until this is openly acknowledged, aspirants will continue to walk blindly into systems that can, and sometimes do, destroy them, all in the name of awakening.

“Books of Spells” in Tibetan Buddhism: Magnetizing and Subjugation Rites, and the Problem of Sexual and Spiritual Abuse

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To view Tibetan Buddhism as purely meditative and philosophical is to miss a large and still under-mapped terrain of ritual manuals and spell collections. A 9th to 10th-century Tibetan “book of spells” from the Dunhuang cave library (British Library IOL Tib J 401) shows that Tibetan monks compiled practical ritual instructions covering healing, protection, exorcism, and subjugation. It is the earliest surviving compendium of Tibetan Buddhist magical ritual and looks exactly like what we’d call a grimoire: a working handbook of spellcraft.¹

Moving forward in time, the 18th-century polymath Slelung Zhadepa Dorje (Sle lung Bzhad pa’i rdo rje) assembled a large tantric cycle centered on the Jñānaḍākinī. Within that cycle, scholars have identified several distinct grimoires of spells that are, again, practical instruction sets embedded in a broader tantric collection. As one study notes: “This paper seeks to examine such techniques in several grimoires of spells found in the tantric cycle of Gsang ba ye shes mkha’ ’gro… compiled and edited… by Sle lung Bzhad pa’i rdo rje (1697–1740) in the 1730s.”²

“Magical practices in Buddhism are still one of the least studied aspects of the religion.”³

Despite strong indications that there are many such grimoires, from Dunhuang through later ritual cycles, there is no comprehensive catalog. Scholars themselves admit the field’s patchy mapping. Sam van Schaik emphasizes the neglect, and others underline that studies too often treat magic as a literary trope rather than as practical ritual.³ ⁴

Personal experience

I do not come to this subject as a detached scholar. I was targeted by two different lamas at different times, one of whom used coercion to draw me into a sexual relationship and then employed what I can only describe as black magic when I resisted, questioned, and tried to break free. Living through those experiences is what drove me to investigate Tibetan spell craft.

“From the inside, the grimoires of Tibetan Buddhism do not feel very different from the grimoires of Western occultism.”

Although I practiced intensely for years in long retreats, I was never taught these darker rituals, yet I witnessed unsettling rites performed by my lamas. After rebuffing the advances of the first guru, I experienced what felt like severe magical attacks that reverberated for years. The cognitive dissonance was crushing: I believed these teachers were fully enlightened buddhas, yet I suffered severe trauma and PTSD.

“Fear of vajra hell kept me clinging to the practices, even as abuse intensified.”

My second guru was later exposed publicly for sexual and psychological abuse. Being caught in his orbit, I became the target of annihilation rituals. Surviving and recovering has been extraordinarily difficult. I now see that while some teachers avoid such practices, others weaponize spells of magnetism and subjugation to manipulate students, especially women, for sex and energetic vampirization. This gray area of practical magic within Tibetan Buddhism is vast and dangerous.

What the rites actually claim to do: magnetizing and subjugation

Classical Vajrayāna sorts ritual aims into four “activities”: pacifying, enriching, magnetizing, and subjugating. These are not marginal ideas; they are a standard frame for tantric ritual. Magnetizing (Tib. dbang du sdud pa) is explicitly defined as bringing others “under one’s control,” while subjugation names violent rites directed at overcoming obstacles and destroying opponents.⁵ ⁶

Texts and prayers for magnetizing circulate broadly, for instance, the “Wang Dü” prayer attributed to Mipham, described as “magnetizing or bringing under one’s control.” None of this is esoteric in the sense of being unknown; it is central to tantric categories and practice rhetoric.⁶ ⁷

From ritual claims to real-world power: how coercion maps onto communities and individuals

A ritual manual promising to attract, influence, or subdue doesn’t automatically produce abuse. Still, the rhetoric of magnetizing and subjugation sits within a social system that grants absolute authority to gurus and expects strong devotion from students. When high-status teachers have access to rites whose very names project attraction and control, the risk of translating ritual language into interpersonal domination is real.

Recent history demonstrates the danger. In 2018 Rigpa, the international organization founded by Sogyal Rinpoche, published the results of an independent investigation by the law firm Lewis Silkin that validated numerous allegations of physical and sexual abuse and identified serious safeguarding failures.⁸

The published report recounts patterns of violence and coercion including “slapping,” “punching,” “hitting with a backscratcher, phones, cups and hangers,” and documents testimonies of sexual abuse, concluding that the community had failed to protect students.⁹

This is not to claim that tantric ritual texts instruct teachers to abuse students. It is to note a combustible mix: magical mechanisms of control, asymmetries of authority, sacralized obedience, and the frequent absence of external accountability.

Bringing the strands together

  • Books of spells are the norm: Tibetan Buddhist literature contains actual “books of spells” and multiple grimoires embedded in tantric cycles. These are not aberrations but part of the tradition.¹ ²
  • An under-researched domain: Leading scholars explicitly acknowledge that this area of Buddhist practice is still understudied.³ ⁴
  • Control as a ritual aim: The four tantric activities include “magnetizing” and “subjugating,” both routinely glossed as bringing beings or circumstances under one’s control.⁵ ⁶
  • Abuse linked to ritual rhetoric: Documented cases in Tibetan Buddhist communities show how claims to ritual power combined with intense guru-devotion can provide cover for coercion and severe abuse.⁸ ⁹

Where the research gap still matters

A fuller picture of “how many” grimoires are in Tibetan tantric collections requires systematic cataloging across canons and private libraries. Right now we have case studies and local inventories rather than a master list. These texts need to be thoroughly studied in their historical and contemporary contexts and exposed to the world for what they really are–recipes for white and black magic–not sugarcoated as quaint and innocuous artifacts.³ ⁴

Without naming and analyzing how these are taught and performed, it is hard for communities and individuals to protect themselves from magical attacks.

What better safeguards look like

  • Name the risk: community materials should explain what “magnetizing” and “subjugation” denote in practice and how these can and will be used against students at the guru’s discretion.
  • Independent oversight: adopt and publish external safeguarding standards and reporting channels. The Rigpa case shows why self-policing fails.⁸
  • Informed consent and boundaries: spell out that teacher/student sex, even where allowed by law, requires adult consent free of spiritual pressure, and that the bar for “free of pressure” is very high in asymmetric relationships.
  • Don’t assume that all Tibetan Buddhist lamas have pure intention and integrity.

“The safest course is to avoid Tibetan Buddhism altogether, since in practice the guru’s needs and moods often override the Buddha’s teaching of non-harm.“

A closing note on method

This article is a call for transparency and insistence on precision. Tibetan Buddhist archives contain grimoires. The tradition attracts students to its supposedly compassionate practices while concealing that darker “magnetizing” and “subjugation” practices are core ritual elements. Scholars say this area is understudied. And history shows that these techniques of control, in the hands of unaccountable authorities, can easily become abusive, even deadly.

Footnotes

  1. Sam van Schaik, “The Early Tibetan Book of Spells.” Analysis of British Library manuscript IOL Tib J 401 from Dunhuang (9th–10th century). This manuscript is recognized as the earliest surviving Tibetan compendium of spells and rituals, containing instructions for healing, protection, and exorcism. See: Sam van Schaik, Early Tibet blog (2008), and also referenced in his book Tibetan Zen: Discovering a Lost Tradition (Snow Lion, 2015).
  2. Sle lung Bzhad pa’i rdo rje’s Jñānaḍākinī cycle study (Academia.edu). Scholarly paper examining several grimoires embedded in the tantric cycle of Gsang ba ye shes mkha’ ’gro, compiled and edited in the 1730s by Sle lung Bzhad pa’i rdo rje (1697–1740). The paper highlights ritual techniques, their organization, and their status as practical spell collections within a broader cycle. Available on Academia.edu.
  3. Sam van Schaik on magical practices in Buddhism. Statement that “magical practices in Buddhism are still one of the least studied aspects of the religion.” Quoted in his writings on Buddhist magic, including his blog Early Tibet and in Tibetan Zen (Snow Lion, 2015).
  4. Cameron Bailey, “The Magic of Secret Gnosis: A Theoretical Analysis of a Tibetan Buddhist ‘Grimoire’.” Journal of the Korean Association of Buddhist Studies 84 (2020): 145–176. Available via Academia.edu. Bailey notes that “magic power in Buddhism has been studied more from the perspective of a literary trope than as practical and exactingly specific ritual techniques,” and examines grimoires embedded within the Gsang ba ye shes mkha’ ’gro (Secret Gnosis Dakini) cycle compiled by Sle lung Bzhad pa’i rdo rje in the 1730s.
  5. Vajrayāna framework of four activities. Standard tantric taxonomy of ritual aims: pacifying (zhi ba), enriching (rgyas pa), magnetizing (dbang sdud), and subjugating (dbang ’joms). Discussed in multiple Vajrayāna handbooks and summaries, including descriptions in online resources such as Rigpa Wiki and introductory texts on Vajrayāna Buddhism.
  6. Definitions of magnetizing. Magnetizing (dbang du sdud pa) is routinely glossed as “bringing others under one’s control.” See standard glosses in Vajrayāna dictionaries, sadhana commentaries, and contemporary teaching materials (e.g. Rigpa Wiki, “Four activities”).
  7. “Wang Dü” prayer attributed to Mipham. A widely recited prayer describing magnetizing activities, attributed to the 19th-century scholar Mipham Rinpoche (1846–1912). Circulates in Tibetan and English translation as a practice of magnetizing or bringing beings under one’s control.
  8. Rigpa Independent Investigation, Lewis Silkin LLP (2018). Commissioned by Rigpa International following widespread allegations against founder Sogyal Lakar (Sogyal Rinpoche). The final report documented physical assaults, psychological abuse, and sexual exploitation, and called out systemic safeguarding failures. Full report available through Rigpa’s website and media coverage (2018).
  9. Findings on abuse in Rigpa/Sogyal Rinpoche’s communities. The Lewis Silkin report and subsequent coverage summarized multiple testimonies: repeated slapping, punching, use of objects to hit students, as well as sexual coercion and exploitation of women. Findings were corroborated by survivor accounts and reinforced calls for reform in Tibetan Buddhist organizations.

When Devotion Becomes a Cage: Abuse in the Guru–Disciple Relationship

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Based on Mary Garden’s article “The Potential for Abuse in the Guru-Disciple Relationship,” Cult Recovery 101

“No amount of evidence, nor the quality of it, will serve to un-convince the true believer. Their belief is something they not only want, they need it.” –James Randi

For decades, the Western imagination has romanticized the guru-disciple relationship: the wise, enlightened master guiding the humble seeker toward liberation. Yet beneath the rosy image lies a power dynamic that can turn toxic, even violent. Mary Garden’s searing account strips away the mystique, showing how devotion can be exploited to serve the ego, desires, and domination of the so-called spiritual elite.

A Pattern Hidden in Plain Sight

The dynamics Garden describes are not confined to Hindu ashrams or Indian gurus. They echo almost perfectly the same mechanisms of control found in certain strains of tantric practices within Tibetan Buddhism. These are systems where teachers are often elevated to godlike status and obedience is framed as the fast track to enlightenment. In both cases, devotion becomes a weapon that protects the guru from scrutiny, while binding the disciple to them even in the face of blatant harm.

Surrender Without Safeguards

Garden recalls her own journey in the 1970s, moving between ashrams in search of enlightenment. She describes the intoxicating joy of initiation, the chants, the sense of belonging, and the ecstatic highs that felt like spiritual transformation. But once she became a guru’s favored consort, the darkness emerged. The same man who preached divine wisdom alternated between seduction and brutal rage, even physically assaulting others in her presence. At one point she became pregnant by him and he blamed her for it and forced her to have an abortion.

The culture of total surrender made resistance almost unthinkable. Cruelty was reframed as a test of faith, abuse as a blessing, and every whim of the guru as cosmic law. The environment rewarded silence and punished doubt. Those who questioned were shamed, isolated, or cast out.

How Control Works

Her experience, echoed in countless other testimonies, reveals the common mechanics of spiritual exploitation:

  • Deification of the teacher silences doubt and criticism
  • Induced dependency through mystical highs and identity fusion
  • Rationalized harm presented as discipline or “divine play”
  • Social entrapment that makes leaving a spiritual, financial, and emotional crisis

The Cost of Leaving

Breaking free meant dismantling not only her faith in the guru, but also her connection to the community, the esoteric practices, and the sense of higher purpose she had built her life around. Even after witnessing violence firsthand, many of her peers remained loyal, their belief immune to any evidence of harm.

Lessons for the Seeker

Garden’s testimony is not a blanket condemnation of spiritual practice. It is a warning: any system that demands unquestioning obedience to a single human being, no matter how radiant their smile or lofty their words, contains the seed of abuse. Without discernment and the freedom to question, devotion can slide into bondage.

In her closing words, Garden writes, “The guru-disciple relationship is probably the most authoritarian of all in its demands for surrender and obedience. Hence it can be the most destructive. Far from achieving the enlightenment and freedom that many of us ‘wannabe’ spiritual pioneers of the 1970s sought and were promised, we experienced mental imprisonment and confusion. We were seduced by yogis and swamis telling us what we wanted to hear: that we were special and that they were God incarnate. Our need was our downfall. And if we escaped, we often carried lingering doubts: Was it just me? Did I fail? Did I give up too soon?”

Source: Mary Garden, The Potential for Abuse in the Guru-Disciple Relationship, Cult Recovery 101. Read the original article here.

Jesus Let Me Walk Away; the Gurus Did Not

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When I was fifteen, I walked away from the Catholic Church.

There was no drama, no spiritual backlash, no eerie sense of guilt or dread. I simply left. I had questions, and I didn’t know the answers. Like so many teenagers raised in religion, I drifted toward freedom, or what I thought was freedom. But I never stopped believing in Jesus Christ. I always knew He was real.

Still, for eight years, I lived outside the Church. No demons haunted me. No spiritual “agents” came after me. No dark force tried to pull me back or punish me. I was free to explore.

Then, at twenty-three, I was introduced to Tibetan Buddhism by a friend. Spiritual curiosity quickly became commitment. The teachings were deep, the rituals profound, and the promises huge. My belief in Jesus wasn’t challenged outright; instead, the gurus cleverly and swiftly recast Him as a “bodhisattva,” one of many enlightened beings in a cosmic buffet of spiritual options. I was told He was admirable, but not unique. Just another wise, and probably enlightened teacher.

I didn’t realize then how that subtle shift had planted the seeds of spiritual confusion. Over time, the practices became more demanding and more secretive. Eventually questions weren’t welcomed. When I began to notice darker occult elements woven into the heart of the practice, I had troubling doubts. The tantric path spoke of vajra hell, an eternal punishment for those who questioned or broke samaya (spiritual vows to the guru). And not just for betrayal or disobedience, but even for internal doubts.

And when I had them, everything changed.

I was tossed out. Not just socially or emotionally, but spiritually. I was attacked, not just by my former gurus, but by unseen forces. It was violent and supernatural. The very same tradition that had claimed to offer peace and enlightenment unleashed something very dark the moment I started to turn away from the guru.

This wasn’t like walking away from the Catholic Church. It was completely different. I experienced a spiritual assault of such magnitude that no one could believe me. And it begged the question: What kind of spiritual path tortures you for eternity for having doubts?

A demonic path does.The historical Buddha taught to question everything, but tantra did not allow it.

Tibetan Buddhism may parade as a tradition of compassion and peace, but my experience showed otherwise. If it were truly of the Light, it wouldn’t need to threaten vajra hell or unleash invisible tormentors on those who simply ask blunt and honest questions. It wouldn’t need to cloak the guru in infallibility while turning a blind eye to his abuse. And it certainly wouldn’t need to demonically retaliate against a soul simply for having doubts and trauma. The difference between the two paths couldn’t be clearer. When I left the Church, there was silence. When I left Tibetan Buddhism, there was war.

Forgiveness in Christianity vs Wrath in Tantric Tibetan Buddhism

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In Tantric Tibetan Buddhism, forgiveness is not traditionally emphasized as it is in Christianity. Tibetan Buddhism places greater emphasis on karma, the universal law of cause and effect. According to this view, actions inherently produce outcomes, and there is little scope for simply “forgiving” or releasing someone from the karmic consequences of their deeds. Instead, purification practices are prescribed to cleanse one’s negative karma. If they are not done effectively, retribution is a given.

Ken McLeod, a prominent Western teacher and translator of Tibetan Buddhism, highlights this point clearly in an article titled, “Forgiveness is not Buddhist.” He writes, “In Tibetan Buddhism, forgiveness isn’t really addressed in the same way as it is in Christianity. Instead, there’s an emphasis on purification and insight into the nature of mind and action.” [1]

Practitioners engage in rituals and meditation practices, such as Vajrasattva purification practices, visualizing negative karma being cleansed. However, these rituals differ fundamentally from the Christian idea of interpersonal forgiveness. They are personal acts of purification rather than relational acts of forgiving or seeking forgiveness from another person or deity.

Although the emphasis in Tibetan Buddhism is allegedly on compassion (karuna), a larger concept of retribution is often at work behind the scenes. Compassion in Buddhism is the profound desire to alleviate suffering universally, extending even to one’s perceived enemies. Tantra, paradoxically, emphasizes karmic retribution that allows the guru to “payback” perceived slights and disrespect secretly using black magic techniques or “rituals of subjugation.”

Personal Account: The Dark Side of the Teachings

My own experience underscores the stark absence of forgiveness in Tantric Tibetan Buddhism. During a tantric ritual of annihilation, I desperately begged forgiveness from the guru for any perceived wrongdoing, hoping for mercy or compassion. I honestly did not know what I was being punished for. The guru, however, demonstrated not even the slightest bit of forgiveness or mercy. This painful event highlighted for me the profound differences between the compassionate forgiveness taught by Jesus Christ and the severe, impersonal karmic logic of Tantric Tibetan Buddhism.

Forgiveness in Christianity

In Christianity, forgiveness occupies a central and explicit place. It involves both human interpersonal forgiveness and divine forgiveness through the mercy and grace of God. Christianity explicitly encourages believers to forgive one another as God has forgiven them through Christ’s sacrifice on the cross.

Forgiveness in Christianity is relational, deeply rooted in repentance, reconciliation, and restoration of relationships with God and with others. It implies a personal release from the debt of sin through God’s grace, rather than the impersonal balancing of karmic scales.

Jesus teaches explicitly on forgiveness, such as in the Lord’s Prayer (“Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us”), emphasizing the interconnectedness of receiving and giving forgiveness. Forgiveness is portrayed not merely as a spiritual virtue but as a fundamental practice essential to spiritual health and salvation itself.

Western Practitioners and Misplaced Assumptions

Many Western practitioners of Tibetan Buddhism unconsciously overlay their Judeo-Christian cultural and moral values onto the tantric Buddhist teachings, often at their own detriment. They assume the presence of forgiveness and personal mercy that simply do not exist in the traditional tantric framework. This mistaken belief can lead practitioners to misunderstand or misinterpret the intentions and actions of teachers, making them vulnerable to exploitation and emotional and physical harm. Ultimately, recognizing these fundamental differences can lead to safety, and protection from mistaken spiritual paths. For more about the guru’s ability to engage in karmic retribution see here, here, and here.

[1] Ken McLeod, “Forgiveness is Not Buddhist,” Unfettered Mind, https://unfetteredmind.org/forgiveness-is-not-buddhist/ (accessed April 9, 2025).