Shudder into silence
ps...@internetmci.com
Subject: Shudder Into Silence
From: Tony Sidaway <To...@sidaway.demon.co.uk>
A repost of an article that originally appeared in Quill.
'Shudder into silence'
The Church of Scientology doesn't take kindly to
negative coverage
By Robert W. Welkos
In the late spring of 1990, shortly before the Los
Angeles Times published a comprehensive series on the
Church of Scientology by staff writer Joel Sappell and
myself, a deliveryman arrived at my house and propped a
large manila envelope against my front door. It was
from a mortuary, and inside was a brochure extolling
the benefits of arranging your funeral before you die.
"Investigate the pre-arrangement program at our
memorial park now," the brochure read. "You'll be glad
you did, and so will your family."
Curious, I telephoned the mortuary and asked why
they had sent me the material. To my amazement, they
didn't know they had and told me they never sent
brochures unsolicited because it can be upsetting.
They assured me they were always sensitive to such
concerns and that it would not happen again.
But it did.
Two days later, my wife caught a glimpse of a man
hurrying down the front walk. By the time she opened
the door, he was driving away, but left on the step was
another envelope from the same mortuary.
I would never know if the deliveries were just a
mix-up or a sinister prank. Just as I have never known
who made the dozens of hang-up telephone calls to my
house; what caused my partner's dog to go into
seizures on the day the Times published the secret
teachings of Scientology; why a bogus assault complaint
was filed with the Los Angeles Police Department
against Sappell by a man whose address and name proved
to be phony, or why car dealers we had never dealt with
were making inquiries into our personal credit reports.
Yet, I wondered: Were these incidents more than
coincidence?
Whenever journalists ask critical questions about
Scientology they can expect to endure intense personal
scrutiny. Over the years, various reporters have been
sued, harassed, spied on, and even been subjected to
dirty tricks.
Our investigation of Scientology began in 1985.
The undertaking stretched over five difficult years and
tested the will of the newspaper as we were repeatedly
subject to the church's intimidative tactics.
In the end, we published 24 stories over six days,
exploring virtually every facet of Scientology, from
its confidential doctrines to its abuses against
former members to the fictional background of its
founder, the late science fiction writer L. Ron
Hubbard. The series also revealed how Scientologists
had created numerous tax-exempt front groups and
profit-making consulting firms to spread their beliefs
throughout American society, and how Hubbard's
remarkable string of 22 best-sellers was accomplished,
in part, through multiple purchases of his books by
Scientologists and employees of Hubbard's publishing
house, which is controlled by church members.
The story took us across the U.S. and into Canada,
interviewing hundreds of people, reviewing thousands of
pages of documents, and studying the arcane writings of
Hubbard himself.
Along the way we were sued once and successfully
fought two federal court subpoenas served by
Scientology to gain access to our research.
At various times, we were investigated by as many
as three separate teams of private investigators hired
by Scientology's attorneys. Up to the week of
publication, the newspaper continued to receive letters
from church lawyers threatening suits. I was sued by a
church paralegal for false imprisonment after he served
me with a subpoena inside the newspaper and I told him
to wait in an editor's office until security arrived
and determined how he entered the building.
Outside the church's Golden Era Studios in
Riverside, California, a Times photographer stopped his
car on a public highway and began taking pictures of
the compound when he was confronted by uniformed
Scientology guards with walkie-talkies who demanded
that he surrender his film. He refused after a long
and tense confrontation, during which he was asked if
he worked for the CIA. Later, at a church facility in
Hollywood, the photographer parked on the street and
began snapping pictures of two Scientologists assigned
to Scientology's Rehabilitation Project Force -- a kind
of boot camp where members wear dark armbands, run
everywhere, and form (sic) menial tasks until their
superiors determine that they have been properly
rehabilitated. As the camera clicked, one of the men
hurled a caustic substance at the photographer's car,
eroding the paint.
On one occasion, people we had interviewed for the
series were visited by private investigators posing as
a film crew doing a documentary on Scientology.
In the weeks after the series appeared, Scientology
struck back.
It purchased advertising space on more than 120
billboards and 1,000 bus placards around Los Angeles.
The ads, which prominently included the newspaper's
logo and our names, quoted from our series, but they
had edited the excerpts to create the impression that
the Los Angeles Times was endorsing Scientology. It
was so strange for me to be driving to work each
morning on the freeway and then, in letters that looked
10 feet high, see my name plastered on a gigantic
billboard, or standing at a crosswalk and glimpse my
name whizzing past me on the side of a bus.
When Time magazine published a cover story about
Scientology last May 6, Time Associate Editor Richard
Behar wrote that "at least 10 attorneys and six private
detectives were unleashed by Scientology and its
followers in an effort to threaten, harass, and
discredit me." Behar said that a copy of his personal
credit report with detailed information about his bank
accounts, home mortgage, credit-card payments, home
address, and Social Security number had been illegally
retrieved from a national credit bureau. Private
investigators contacted his acquaintances and
neighbors. He was subpoenaed by one attorney and he
said another falsely suggested that he might own shares
in a company he was reporting about.
A Miami private investigator, working for
Scientology attorneys, posed as a woman whose niece was
a Scientologist and sought advice on how to deal with
her and the church.
"They have unleashed private eyes on most of the
sources that were named in the story," Behar said in an
interview.
On the public front, Scientology reportedly spent
over $3 million to run daily ads in USA Today. One ad
blasted Time by claiming the magazine had once
supported Adolph Hitler and his Nazi regime. The
church also mailed out thousands of copies of an 80-
page booklet entitled "Fact vs. Fiction," in which it
attempted to correct "falsehoods" in Behar's article.
Such attempts are known as "dead agenting" in
Scientology.
Behar's experience was not unique.
When Linda Stasi of New York Newsday wrote a sharp-
tongued gossip column about Scientology and mentioned
Time's upcoming cover story, she received a letter from
a man identifying himself as a U.S. Customs Service
agent at Kennedy Airport. "He said my name and both of
my reporters [Dough Vaughan and Anthony Scaduto] were
going on their computer and he would personally see we
underwent full body searches and rectal examinations
until they found drugs or contraband on us the next
time we went through customs," Stasi recalled.
Alarmed, the newspaper's executives referred the
matter to the Customs Service for investigation. Not
long afterward, executives said, an FBI agent contacted
them and said an individual whom he did not name had
complained that Newsday was having him harassed and
wanted the agency to investigate the newspaper. As of
this writing, the outcome of both probes is not known.
Stephen Koff, a staff writer at the St. Petersburg
Times, said that after he began investigating Hubbard's
church in 1988, a car dealership in California checked
out his personal credit report, as did a sculptor, who
has since died. "My guess it was really a private
investigator [who checked out his credit]," Koff said.
While in Los Angeles to report on the church, Koff
said, his wife began receiving obscene phone calls late
at night and people claiming to work for credit card
companies called wanting to know personal information
about him. A week after his series appeared, he
noticed a private investigator parked outside his
house. At one point, he peeked through the blinds and
the car was gone.
"Almost two hours later, I'm leaving with my
daughter to take her to the baby sitter and I see the
same car parked on a different street but parked in
such a way they could see my house." As he drove off
and got on a freeway the same car appeared in front of
him. Koff said he learned through police sources that
the car had been rented by a private investigator.
When Robert W. Lobsinger, publisher of the Newkirk
Herald Journal in Newkirk, Oklahoma, began writing
biting editorials alerting residents that
Scientologists were quietly building a huge drug
rehabilitation center on a nearby Indian reservation,
he was also visited by private investigators on behalf
of Scientology.
One "went to the sheriff's office poking around
wanting all the terrible bad criminal history on me, my
wife, and kids." Lobsinger recalled. "Of course,
there isn't any. He wandered around town talking to
everybody else trying to get the goods on me. They
sent him down with a full-page ad to run in my paper
and a handful of hundred dollar bills to buy this ad.
Of course, the ad was a condemnation of me for exposing
Scientology and insinuating that I was obviously a drug
dealer and was a terrible bad guy...So they took it to
the daily paper 15 miles north of us and they ran it up
there." Lobsinger said Scientologists then mailed the
ad to Newkirk's 2,500 residents.
No matter where Scientology surfaces as a story,
journalists can expect to be targets of a "noisy"
investigation.
"Remember," Hubbard wrote as far back as 1959,
"intelligence we get with a whisper. Investigation we
do with a yell."
In "The Manual of Justice," Hubbard gave point-by-
point instructions on how to deal with a "bad magazine
article." First, he wrote, "Tell them by letter to
retract at once in the next issue." The second step,
he said, is to "hire a private detective of a national-
type firm to investigate the writer, not the magazine,
and get any criminal or Communist background the man
has." The third step is to have lawyers write the
magazine threatening suit, and then use the information
gleaned from the investigator to make the writer
"shudder into silence."
Using lawyers to attack its critics is standard
Scientology procedure. Among the millions of words
Hubbard left to his followers were precise directives
on how to deal with critics and the press:
"The purpose of the [lawsuit] is to harass and
discourage rather than win."
"If attacked on some vulnerable point by anyone or
anything or any organization, always find or
manufacture enough threat against them to cause them to
sue from peace...Don't ever defend. Always attack."
"We do not want Scientology to be reported in the
press, anywhere else than on the religious pages of
newspapers...Therefore, we should be alert to sue for
slander at the slightest chance so as to discourage the
public presses from mentioning Scientology."
"NEVER agree to an investigation of Scientology.
Only agree to an investigation of the attacker...Start
feeding lurid, blood, sex crime, actual evidence on the
attack to the press. Don't ever tamely submit to an
investigation of us. Make it rough, rough on attackers
all the way."
When British author Russell Miller wrote a critical
biography of Hubbard in 1988, an anonymous caller to
police implicated Miller in the unsolved axe slaying of
a South London private eye. Miller was interrogated by
Scotland Yard, which later admitted the investigation
was a waste of time that had "caused Mr. Miller some
embarrassment."
The Sunday Times of London interviewed a private
detective in 1987 who said he had been paid $2500 by
the Church of Scientology for attempting to smear
Miller. The private eye was quoted as saying that he
thought Miller was "at risk" and added: "People acting
for the church are willing to pay large sums for men to
discredit him. These bastards will stop at nothing."
When the St. Petersburg Times planned a review of
another biography that was critical of Hubbard, it
received a letter from a Scientology attorney
threatening to sue the newspaper.
"We have evidence that your paper has a deep-seated
bias against the Church and that you intend to hit the
Church hard with this review," the letter from Los
Angeles attorney Timothy Bowles stated. "...If you
forward one of his lies you will find yourself in court
facing not only libel and slander charges, but also
charges for conspiracy to violate civil rights. If you
publish anything at all on it, you may still find
yourself defending charges in court in light of what we
know about your intentions. We know a whole lot more
about your institution and motives than you think."
The newspaper published its review and Bowles'
letter.
But this biggest horror story belongs to New York
author Paulette Cooper.
Cooper, who wrote a scathing 1972 book entitled The
Scandal of Scientology, was indicted on charges of
making bomb threats against the church. The charges
were eventually dismissed after authorities discovered
the church had obtained stationery she had touched and
used it to forge the bomb threats.
Today, when journalists launch investigations of
Scientology, they can expect to be contacted by the
Office of Special Affairs, the church unit responsible
for countering outside threats. Attorneys at OSA
coordinate the activities of private detectives who
gather information and spy on church critics.
Journalists should know that even before they begin
conducting interviews with church officials, those
officials are prepared for them. Scientologists who
regularly deal with the media are drilled on how to
handle questions. The church once issued a bulletin on
how to "cave in" a reporter by "shouting, banging,
pointing [and] swearing."
Scientologists also were instructed how to be
"covertly hostile" to a reporter: "He uses the word as
a rapier and plunges it at the reporter, so that the
reporter introverts and drops the questions."
Preparing for a hostile interview is one thing.
Wondering whether you've been targeted for harassment
is another.
Several weeks before the publication of our series,
I joined a number of other Times' reporters for a drink
and conversation at a nearby watering hole. As we sat
laughing and talking, I noticed a woman sitting alone,
facing me at a nearby table. Each time I looked in her
direction she glanced at her wristwatch, as if to
indicate she was waiting for a friend who never
arrived. She waited for well over an hour until I
mentioned to another reporter how odd it was.
As I headed home on the freeway I noticed a
California Highway Patrol car swerving back and forth
across the lanes, slowing traffic to a crawl. He
slipped in behind my car, and ordered me to pull over.
I asked the officer what I had done, and then saw there
were three more patrol cars lined up behind me, all
with their lights flashing.
After I was given a sobriety test, the officers
huddled, then told me to get going because I was sober.
When I asked why I had been stopped, one officer said
they had received a report that I was weaving and
endangering other motorists.
The next day, I learned that the CHP had received a
call over a car phone from a man identifying himself as
a former Los Angeles police officer. He said he was
following me and would direct the officers to my
location.
Oddly, he never gave his name.
My colleagues later said I was lucky I hadn't made
any sudden moves while getting out of my car. In a
city plagued by freeway shootings and gangs, cops get
nervous.
Welkos is a staff writer for the Los Angeles Times.
Scientology's current target: Reader's Digest
The Church of Scientology attempted to prohibit
publication of Reader's Digest's October issue in
Switzerland, France, Italy, the Netherlands, and
Germany.
At issue: a condensed reprint of Richard Behar's
Time magazine article on the church, entitled
"Scientology: A Dangerous Cult Goes Mainstream."
A magazine spokeswoman said only the court in
Lausanne, Switzerland, granted a temporary injunction
prohibiting publication. She said the magazine began
distribution to subscribers September 26, despite the
court order. Copies of the magazine were not available
for newsstand sale.
The church quickly followed with a criminal
complaint, according to the Rev. Heber Jentzsch,
president of the International Church of Scientology.
The publisher reports the Swiss German edition has
243,906 subscribers and 11,824 newsstand sales; the
Swiss edition 82,023 subscribers and 3,023 newsstand
sales.
According to the magazine:
-The Lausanne court scheduled a hearing for
November 11. A second Swiss court in Zurich, dismissed
its case October 15.
-In early October, a German court and a French
court dismissed their cases. A Netherlands court threw
out its case and ordered the Scientologists to pay the
magazine's legal costs. A court in Milan, Italy,
transferred its case to Verona where it was dismissed.
-Versions of the article appeared simultaneously in
virtually all 40 of the magazine's editions in 16
languages, reaching more than 100 million readers.
U.S. circulation is 16.25 million; international is
12.5 million.
In a memo to employees, Editor-in-Chief Kenneth Y.
Tomlinson said, "The Church of Scientology...asked the
Civil Court in Lausanne...to prohibit publication...We
believe the court's order violates the rights of free
press and free speech protected by the Swiss
Constitution...The central issue is censorship. We
cannot -- we will not -- allow anyone in Switzerland
or anywhere else in the world to restrict our right to
publish. As a global publisher, that right matters
above all else."
Jentzsch told The QUILL that Behar's original
story, and the condensed version, were "libelous and
slanderous" to the church and its members. He called
Reader's Digest's publication of the story a "definite,
vicious attempt to attack the church."
Jentzsch claims a hidden agenda on the part of both
Behar and Reader's Digest, alleging a senior editor at
Reader's Digest, Eugene Methvin, told Jentzsch of the
magazine's intent "to bring down the church."
"I never said that," Methvin responds. The
Washington-based editor claims to have had no role in
the republication of Behar's story, that the New York
office handled Behar's story. "Jentzsch called while I
was on deadline on another story, finishing a piece on
Boris Yeltsin," Methvin recalls. "I said something
like 'it's been a bad year for totalitarian regimes,
and this may be your year.'"
Jentzsch says a church investigation of Behar and
Methvin indicates they have an affiliation with the
American Family Foundation, an organization Jentzsch
claims is involved with kidnapping and deprogramming
so-called religious cult members. Methvin acknowledges
he's a member of the advisory board but says the
organization has nothing to do with kidnapping or
deprogramming. He claims to have advised them by
phone "maybe twice" in ten years. Behar told The QUILL
he has no formal affiliation with the foundation. "I'm
on their mailing list," Behar said, "and I've referred
a few callers to them."
Although the church sought to prohibit publication
in five European countries, it has not filed suit in
the U.S. against either Time or Reader's Digest.
Jentzsch says such action is still under consideration.
-Brian Steffens
--
Tony Sidaway SUPPORT DENNIS ERLICH, CRITIC SUED BY
SCIENTOLOGISTS
NEW ADDRESS
"This is not something that is happening in cyberspace. This is
happening
in my house"--Dennis Erlich.
"The internet is growing Woody. 4.8M nodes as of January. Deal
with it."
--charles oriez
"Time to update your sig, Tony :-)...at least 27.5 M with e-mail
access.
13.5M have full access. Full details
http://www.tic.com/."--charles oriez
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MAKE SURE YOU LABEL YOUR CHECK "DENNIS ERLICH DEFENSE FUND".
Checks
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KeithRCP
Obiviously this person has never been the reciepent of phone calls and
faxes from the Christian Coalition after a negative article.
I saw drown that damn Judges Dog!
I bet he misses the lil' pup!
h3
In article <53r1q0$b...@newsbf02.news.aol.com>, keit...@aol.com (KeithRCP)
wrote:
i thought it was woody returned. but maybe it's vera, instead.
no, vera would know that the judge has died.