Bare-Faced Messiah (PDF) - Apologetics Index

'It was not really possible to question what was going on,' explained David Mayo, a New Zealander
and a long-time member of the Sea Org, 'because you were never sure who you could really trust.
To question anything Hubbard did or said was an offense and you never knew if you would be
reported. Most of the crew were afraid that if they expressed any disagreement with what was going
on they would be kicked out of Scientology. That was something absolutely untenable to most
people, something you never wanted to consider. That was much more terrifying than anything that
might happen to you in the Sea Org.
'We tried not to think too hard about his behaviour. It was not rational much of the time, but to even
consider such a thing was a discreditable thought and you couldn't allow yourself to have a
discreditable thought. One of the questions in a sec-check was, "Have you ever had any unkind
thoughts about LRH?" and you could get into very serious trouble if you had. So you tried hard not
to.'[5]
On 25 July 1968, while Hubbard was still in Bizerte, the government in Britain finally decided to take
action against Scientology. Kenneth Robinson, the Health Minister, stood up in the House of
Commons and announced a ban on Scientology students entering the UK. 'The Government is
satisfied,' he said, 'having reviewed all the available evidence, that Scientology is socially harmful. It
alienates members of families from each other and attributes squalid and disgraceful motives to
all who oppose it. Its authoritarian principles and practices are a potential menace to the
personality and well-being of those so deluded as to become its followers; above all, its methods
can be a serious danger to the health of those who submit to them.'
A few days later, the Home Secretary announced that L. Ron Hubbard was classified as an
'undesirable alien' and would consequently not be allowed back into Britain, a decision that
prompted Hubbard to send a telex to Saint Hill complaining that 'England, once the light and hope
of the world, has become a police state and can no longer be trusted.'
These developments spurred British newspapers to renewed efforts to find and interview the
elusive Mr Hubbard. The Daily Mail, which had recently been pleased to publish the numbers of
Hubbard's bank accounts in Switzerland, was first to track him down in Bizerte. Hubbard affected an
attitude of nonchalant indifference to events in Britain and did his best to charm the Mail team. He
invited the reporters on board, showed them his sixteen war medals in a framed case behind his
desk and politely answered questions for more than two hours.
He claimed he was no longer in control of Scientology, said he was abroad for health reasons and
insisted he was still welcome in Britain. 'My name inspires confidence,' he asserted. 'I'm persona
grata everywhere. If I wanted to return to Britain, I'd walk in the front gate and the Customs officer
would say, "Hullo, Mr Hubbard." That's how it's always been and always will be.'
It was a public relations tour de force; almost the worst thing the newspaper could find to say about
him was that he chain-smoked menthol cigarettes and 'fidgeted nervously'.[6] He performed with
similar confidence when a British television crew arrived the following day, even when the
interviewer asked him, 'Do you ever think you might be quite mad?' Hubbard grinned broadly and
replied 'Oh yes! The one man in the world who never believes he's mad is a madman.'
He explained that most of his wealth derived from his years as a writer rather than from Scientology
:'Fifteen million published words and a great many successful movies don't make nothing.' He was
in the Mediterranean, he said, studying ancient civilizations and trying to find out why they went into
decline.[7]