Learn from "the Hugging Saint" - motherhood is anything but passive

Rhiannon and Holly meet Amma, an Indian spiritual leader who uses the act of embracing people to bring women to the fore.

It’s 8am on a cold October morning when we find ourselves on the terrace outside Alexandra Palace in a thick, freezing mist. Despite the only visible monument amongst the smog being the scary, spiky phallus of the Ally Pally radio tower, we are here to experience something wholly female. We’ve been sent by the New Statesman to see Sri Mata Amritanandamayi, a woman more often known as Amma, meaning simply "mother", and sometimes referred to as "the Hugging Saint". Here at the "People’s Palace", we are two people of the thousands will witness - and receive - darshan, a process whereby she embraces those in need of comfort and reassurance. Apparently Amma has hugged over 32 million people worldwide, and, considering the furore over our last New Statesman article, we are in desperate need of a cuddle.

As we queue and then sit waiting for Amma to appear, we discuss how unusual it is for a lone woman to be worshipped and revered in the context of religious or spiritual belief. While the Virgin Mary might be seen as an exception to that rule, particularly in the case of Catholicism, it’s important to remember that she only gave birth once, and is defined by the fact that she brought forth a world-changing male. Otherwise, Christianity’s ratio of saints is weighted heavily towards men. And apart from a Sacred Feminine denomination of Hinduism, almost all of the largest religions in the world are also heavy on the gods rather than the goddesses; female spiritual figures are often passively involved in a process that leads to male activity. Amma, meanwhile, has no biological children herself, but is considered a mother to everyone, actively seeking out those in need of embracing and bringing what she considers to be "divine love" to them through the power of her own affection. If you’re looking for the cult of motherhood, than this might be it.

Although Amma is often referred to as a Hindu spiritual leader, her teachings do not actually coincide with any one set of spiritual beliefs. Rather, she uses a range of practices and prayers from various different religions. We decided not to read up too much on Amma before meeting her, lest it taint our perspective of the experience, but it’s probably fair to say that we were expecting everything to be pretty new-agey and hippyish. And while the air smelled of joss sticks and there was the odd dreadlocked die-hard crusty in tie-dyed pyjamas present, on entering the palace we were confronted with a surprisingly varied "congregation" comprising men and women of all ages and races. By 8.30am, the place was packed, and the air was filled with the delicious smell of pakora (we had seven) as we prepared to meet the Mother.

Motherhood has always been a sticky issue for feminists. A recent Netmums study claimed that women of child-bearing age are rejecting the "feminist" label in part because of a perceived lack of respect for the mothering role. This is something that Amma appears to agree with. As she throws her arms around her followers, she talks to us briefly about her interpretation of womanhood. While Amma firmly believes in gender equality (she once said "In God’s creation, men and women are equal. But over the centuries, the sad condition of women has not significantly improved. Women, who give birth to humankind, should be assured an equal role in society"), during our short interview she expresses frustration at the idea that, in gaining rights, women have lost much of the respect that should be afforded to motherhood. It is motherhood, after all, that "sustains the world". As she juggles the act of cuddling and answering our questions, she explains what she believes has gone wrong with the struggle for equality: "Love is a great healer," she says, but "without love and understanding, men and women will collide - that is what is happening today." Particularly Amma says that, in the struggle for equality, "women should be careful not to develop an inferiority complex. That can kill their spirit, their courage, and their strength."

These views may not chime with feminist orthodoxy, but that’s not to say that Amma believes women should be nothing more than baby-producing machines. Much of her foundation’s charity work, which includes founding 5,000 self-help groups made up of over 100,000 women, providing vocational education, micro-credit loans and entrepreneurial, focuses on empowering women when they might otherwise have experienced motherhood as entrapment in the home. Thanks to a grant from the UN, they have developed sophisticated technology (based upon flight simulators for pilots) to train women struggling to make ends meet in their families to be plumbers. Use of the computer programme itself has done wonders to change a cultural perception of plumbing from "dirty, male work" to a skilled vocation, some of Amma’s volunteers explain. This sort of thinking has had real effect on the ground in some of the world’s poorest regions. 

She herself has been no stranger to oppression. She first started hugging as a young girl, in a community where it was unheard of for a woman to embrace strangers, especially of the opposite sex. She is said to have suffered repeated beatings and even attempted murder at the hands of her own family before her vocation was accepted. Nowadays, she is recognised and referred to in India as a mahatma (translating literally as "great soul"), but says of her childhood that "women are expected to remain in the background... My family could not understand why I was so open and direct."

It is this openness and directness that seems manifest in the philosophy of Amma and her followers. They certainly appear testament to the notion of doing rather than saying, and the way in which they measure their success by statistical results rather than "spreading the faith" is reassuring. As we are both naturally resistant to any kind of dogmatism, whether from religious groups or political ones (including feminists), Amma’s work represents the kind of grassroots activity that we can get on board with. Making a practical difference to many women’s lives is more empowering than any amount of preaching or theory. Amma seems to practice equality in everything that she does, yet always on a foundation of the "feminine virtues" of compassion and nurturing.

It’s possible that the reason motherhood has lost its social reverence is tied up in the idea of female passivity. Yet here, in the centre of the gigantic hall, as we wait to be hugged by her, Amma seems anything but passive. She is not domineering, and yet she appears to hold an undeniable presence that demands respect. Perhaps the contrasting proactivity of the Amma phenomenon - and its resounding success amongst the world populace - speaks of a forthcoming change in perception. Everyone who’s been a mother knows that it’s certainly an active job, and that demonstrating a mother’s love is an active process (hence why, like many natural mothers, she only sleeps three hours a night). 

Before we leave, Amma embraces both of us, and we definitely depart feeling more relaxed - we’re not about to up sticks and join the movement, but we’re definitely feeling less stressed out. Suddenly, strangers shouting at us on Twitter is of little concern. It’s quite some cuddle; not life-changing, perhaps, but very pleasant. Being mother to everyone must be a difficult task - but of course, even those with fewer than seven billion in their brood are worthy of society’s deep respect. And while Amma’s cuddles are cosy, we have to say: nothing, but nothing, beats a hug from your mum.

Amma hugs a devotee. Photograph: Getty Images

Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett and Holly Baxter are co-founders and editors of online magazine, The Vagenda.

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Find the EU renegotiation demands dull? Me too – but they are important

It's an old trick: smother anything in enough jargon and you can avoid being held accountable for it.

I don’t know about you, but I found the details of Britain’s European Union renegotiation demands quite hard to read. Literally. My eye kept gliding past them, in an endless quest for something more interesting in the paragraph ahead. It was as if the word “subsidiarity” had been smeared in grease. I haven’t felt tedium quite like this since I read The Lord of the Rings and found I slid straight past anything written in italics, reasoning that it was probably another interminable Elvish poem. (“The wind was in his flowing hair/The foam about him shone;/Afar they saw him strong and fair/Go riding like a swan.”)

Anyone who writes about politics encounters this; I call it Subclause Syndrome. Smother anything in enough jargon, whirr enough footnotes into the air, and you have a very effective shield for protecting yourself from accountability – better even than gutting the Freedom of Information laws, although the government seems quite keen on that, too. No wonder so much of our political conversation ends up being about personality: if we can’t hope to master all the technicalities, the next best thing is to trust the person to whom we have delegated that job.

Anyway, after 15 cups of coffee, three ice-bucket challenges and a bottle of poppers I borrowed from a Tory MP, I finally made it through. I didn’t feel much more enlightened, though, because there were notable omissions – no mention, thankfully, of rolling back employment protections – and elsewhere there was a touching faith in the power of adding “language” to official documents.

One thing did stand out, however. For months, we have been told that it is a terrible problem that migrants from Europe are sending child benefit to their families back home. In future, the amount that can be claimed will start at zero and it will reach full whack only after four years of working in Britain. Even better, to reduce the alleged “pull factor” of our generous in-work benefits regime, the child benefit rate will be paid on a ratio calculated according to average wages in the home country.

What a waste of time. At the moment, only £30m in child benefit is sent out of the country each year: quite a large sum if you’re doing a whip round for a retirement gift for a colleague, but basically a rounding error in the Department for Work and Pensions budget.

Only 20,000 workers, and 34,000 children, are involved. And yet, apparently, this makes it worth introducing 28 different rates of child benefit to be administered by the DWP. We are given to understand that Iain Duncan Smith thinks this is barmy – and this is a man optimistic enough about his department’s computer systems to predict in 2013 that 4.46 million people would be claiming Universal Credit by now*.

David Cameron’s renegotiation package was comprised exclusively of what Doctor Who fans call handwavium – a magic substance with no obvious physical attributes, which nonetheless helpfully advances the plot. In this case, the renegotiation covers up the fact that the Prime Minister always wanted to argue to stay in Europe, but needed a handy fig leaf to do so.

Brace yourself for a sentence you might not read again in the New Statesman, but this makes me feel sorry for Chris Grayling. He and other Outers in the cabinet have to wait at least two weeks for Cameron to get the demands signed off; all the while, Cameron can subtly make the case for staying in Europe, while they are bound to keep quiet because of collective responsibility.

When that stricture lifts, the high-ranking Eurosceptics will at last be free to make the case they have been sitting on for years. I have three strong beliefs about what will happen next. First, that everyone confidently predicting a paralysing civil war in the Tory ranks is doing so more in hope than expectation. Some on the left feel that if Labour is going to be divided over Trident, it is only fair that the Tories be split down the middle, too. They forget that power, and patronage, are strong solvents: there has already been much muttering about low-level blackmail from the high command, with MPs warned about the dire influence of disloyalty on their career prospects.

Second, the Europe campaign will feature large doses of both sides solemnly advising the other that they need to make “a positive case”. This will be roundly ignored. The Remain team will run a fear campaign based on job losses, access to the single market and “losing our seat at the table”; Leave will run a fear campaign based on the steady advance of whatever collective noun for migrants sounds just the right side of racist. (Current favourite: “hordes”.)

Third, the number of Britons making a decision based on a complete understanding of the renegotiation, and the future terms of our membership, will be vanishingly small. It is simply impossible to read about subsidiarity for more than an hour without lapsing into a coma.

Yet, funnily enough, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Just as the absurd complexity of policy frees us to talk instead about character, so the onset of Subclause Syndrome in the EU debate will allow us to ask ourselves a more profound, defining question: what kind of country do we want Britain to be? Polling suggests that very few of us see ourselves as “European” rather than Scottish, or British, but are we a country that feels open and looks outwards, or one that thinks this is the best it’s going to get, and we need to protect what we have? That’s more vital than any subclause. l

* For those of you keeping score at home, Universal Credit is now allegedly going to be implemented by 2021. Incidentally, George Osborne has recently discovered that it’s a great source of handwavium; tax credit cuts have been postponed because UC will render such huge savings that they aren’t needed.

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.

This article first appeared in the 11 February 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The legacy of Europe's worst battle