Alpine town vs. saffron gown
Sure, some residents of the standstill town of Winterthur (pop. 88,000) in the German-speaking part of Switzerland had long felt that the place could use a little excitement. But a pop religious cult gone bananas, a running feud between town and saffron gown, allegations of planted bombs in rosebushes and naked-altar ceremonies in postcard-pretty woods? This was more than anybody had bargained for.
On trial in a Swiss federal criminal court last week, wearing a faded orange-pink robe and sandals, was a slender Indian who called himself Swami Omkarananda, a self-proclaimed teacher of mankind and head guru of a "Hindu-Christian" sect known as the Divine Light Center. The charges against the 49-year-old swami and what the prosecution called the hard core of his 80 followers ranged from theft and trespassing to attempted murder and grievous bodily harm. But most serious of all, the cultists had disturbed the peace of Winterthur.
It seems that back in the cult-happy '60s, a wealthy local matron fell under the swami's spell in India and invited him to Switzerland. Her generosity helped launch the Divine Light Center in a cluster of 15 houses, which the swami painted an offensive bright blue. Worshipful disciples pestered the neighborhood with nonstop proselytizing. From 4 in the morning on, loudspeakers bellowing holy chants echoed through the district. The stolid burghers finally lost patience and in 1975 won an official order to have the swami expelled from the country.
At that, according to the prosecution, the swami and his fold mounted a three-stage counterattack. First, voodoo dolls of the heathen neighbors were stuck with needles, and bewitched fruits were planted in their gardens. One devotee claimed she was used as a naked altar, raped, and smeared with chicken blood, to be used later to curse the foe. In the poison phase, clotheslines were doused with smallpox serum, garden tomatoes with formic acid, and doorknobs with caustic concoctions. One of the five cultists on trial with the swami admitted popping a poisoned chocolate into a victim's mouth (disliking the flavor, the victim spat it out). In stage three, an arsenal was allegedly assembled, and bombs were planted next to two houses. No one was killed, but the blast compelled the police to close in.
Though the swami faces up to 20 years in a Swiss slammer, he is unrepentant and rejects the charges as part of the "filth spreading round the world." Whatever the law decides, placid Winterthur will not soon forget the time the cuckoos escaped from their clocks.