Interesting article by David Gibson in Politics Daily
about the recent Scientology setbacks. I have high-
lighted one passage below, but because reposts will
remove the highlighting, I reproduce it here for what
should be obvious reasons (duh...it's relation to the
TMO and its struggles to survive its own excesses):
We'll see what happens to Scientology. One mark of a "real" religion is
its ability to reform or adapt. Some religions could be said to begin as
cults and over time transform into religions. Similarly, religious
traditions, or parts of them, can also degenerate into cults. But cults
generally don't last long because they are so obsessive and rigid that
they cannot change in the face of challenges.
Everyone here knows the ongoing schism debated on
FFL ad nauseum -- "Can the TMO change?" "Is it worth
trying to get it to change and drop the more cultic aspects
of its teachings and its practices?" Some, like Doug, take
the "Martin Luther position" and say yes. Others believe
that the TMO is too set in its ways to ever change, and
will persist in cross-dressing its leaders and mistreating
its followers until it dies of "cult obesity." I think that
the example of Scientology being forced to deal with its
own demons might inspire some discussion of how --
or even whether -- the TMO will deal with its own.
Is Scientology a Cult? Is Paul Haggis the Next Martin Luther?It's been a
tough stretch for Scientology. The church founded by the late science
fiction writer (and great prophet/odd duck/complete kook -- take your
pick) L. Ron Hubbard in 1953 was dinged nearly a million bucks on
Tuesday after a Paris court convicted six leaders of the French branch
of Scientology of organized fraud in duping recruits out of lots of
money.
Of course, given the number of high-profile celebs the Church of
Scientology counts as members -- Tom Cruise, John Travolta, Kirstie
Alley, Greta Van Susteren, among others -- and the extent of its
high-end real estate holdings, even a million-dollar fine is unlikely to
hamper the movement's ongoing quest for converts, and public acceptance.
What may be far more damaging for Scientology, as it always is for
lockstep organizations, is the defection of a credible and highly
visible member. In this case, the dissenter is Oscar-winning director
and screenwriter Paul Haggis ("Crash, "Million Dollar Baby," and many
others). Haggis' split with Scientology came in a letter to church
spokesman Tommy Davis last August, but his departure was only made
public in October when it was obtained by former high-level Scientology
official Marty Rathbun, and published on his anti-Scientology Web site.
In the letter, Haggis says his chief reason for leaving after 35 years
of affiliation was the church's apparent support for the anti-gay
marriage ballot measure in California, Proposition 8, which passed last
November. Haggis said he was disturbed that the San Diego branch of the
church backed the measure, and that for nearly a year after Haggis first
complained to Davis about that support, Davis and other Scientology
leaders did not come out in opposition to Prop. 8 despite promising to
do so.
"The church's refusal to denounce the actions of these bigots,
hypocrites and homophobes is cowardly," Haggis writes to Davis. "I can
think of no other word. Silence is consent, Tommy. I refuse to consent."
In one sense, this is nothing unusual. All sorts of churches supported
Prop. 8, alienating many of their own flocks, and the defection of even
a well-known Mormon or Catholic would merit a media yawn. The difference
with the Haggis letter is that it also represents a rare glimpse into a
highly secretive church that many consider weird at best, cult-like at
worst. And the filmmaker details some of the tactics that seem to
bolster the views of Scientology's critics and much of the public.
For example, Haggis discovered that Davis had denied any use of a policy
of "disconnection" in which members are ordered to cut off all contact
with family members and friends who may question their affiliation. "I
was shocked," Haggis writes. "We all know this policy exists. I didn't
have to search for verification -- I didn't have to look any further
than my own home."
He writes of the church's ordering his wife to shun her own parents --
who were once Scientologists themselves and who introduced her to
Scientology -- even though his in-laws never spoke ill of Scientology.
"Although it caused her terrible personal pain, my wife broke off all
contact with them. I refused to do so. I've never been good at following
orders, especially when I find them morally reprehensible...To see you
lie so easily, I am afraid I had to ask myself: what else are you lying
about?" Haggis went on to cite other instances of retribution against
turncoat Scientologists.
Scientology leaders are not known for their passivity, and have a
longstanding reputation for aggressively seeking to control what is
written and said about them. Last May, Wikipedia's arbitration board
determined that Scientologists had been engaged in coordinated and
deceptive tactics aimed at editing Scientology-related entries to their
advantage. The board blocked editing from "all I.P. addresses owned or
operated by the Church of Scientology and its associates, broadly
interpreted." And when "South Park" did a send-up of Scientology in 2005
it led to the departure of Isaac Hayes, a Scientologist who voiced the
popular character of Chef, because he reportedly did not like the
satire. (What did he expect of "South Park"?)
When the Haggis letter emerged, Davis responded quickly and strenuously,
telling the Associated Press that the church does not mandate
"disconnection" for anyone and that such a break is a completely
"self-determined decision." (Regarding the Prop. 8 question, Davis'
comment was more vague: he didn't say whether or not the church
supported or opposed the measure: "We're all for civil rights and the
rights of minorities," Davis told the AP. "We know what it is to be a
minority and have your rights curtailed. We're very vocal and consistent
in our stance on discrimination against anybody. We take it very
seriously.")
Is this revelation, then, conclusive proof that Scientology is the cult
that many claim? It all depends on what is meant by "cult."
The word really has two meanings. One is the original sense of any
regular practice of faith and body of beliefs. But since the middle of
the last century and the rise of what are now generically termed "New
Religious Movements," or NRMs -- such as Scientology -- the word "cult"
has been used as a pejorative label slapped on anything that seemed odd
or evil. (Or from California.) Charles Manson's cabal was called a cult,
as were the followers of Jim Jones, who committed mass suicide at their
community in Guyana in 1978. The Branch Davidians, led by David Koresh,
who perished in an FBI siege in Waco in 1993 were considered a cult, as
is the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (FLDS)
led by the now-jailed Warren Jeffs, who promoted polygamy and sex with
underage girls.
Given such associations, it's no surprise that no one wants to be known
as a cult, and that the term has become so loaded that experts in
religion caution against using it. So is there any such thing as a cult?
The commonly accepted definition of a cult today is anything that is
"weird" or new or well out of the mainstream. (Scientology claims 10
million members worldwide. Others say the global figure is closer to
100,000, and a large-scale national survey in 2001 put the number of
U.S. followers at 55,000.)
Under those parameters, Scientology is an easy target. Not only is it
new (circa 1953) but it has a complex and obscure set of beliefs and
practices that sound exotic. For example, L. Ron Hubbard taught that
people are at their core spiritual beings called thetans whose existence
spans many human lifetimes. People are supposed to move closer to their
true spiritual nature through extensive "audits" that seek to put them
in a "Clear" state. As they move higher up in the church echelons (and
make regular payments) further revelations about the extraterrestrial
origins of the universe and other mysteries are disclosed to adherents.
Many of these have not been made public, though the disclosure of the
belief that an alien ruler named Xenu brought people to earth 75 million
years ago in jet planes and planted them around volcanoes is one of the
more unusual tenets that have come to light.
The sofa-surfing antics of prominent Scientologist Tom Cruise -- whose
internal video boosting Scientology became a huge hit on YouTube when it
was leaked in 2008 -- have not exactly burnished the church's mainstream
image. Scientology is also very antagonistic towards psychiatry -- hence
Cruise's clash with actress Brooke Shields, whom he slammed for using
Paxil to battle postpartum depression. (Shields fired back in a New York
Times op-ed.)
But viewed from certain perspectives, almost any religion can seem
"weird," and it's generally not fair to hold a belief system responsible
for the offbeat antics of its adherents.
What can legitimately be considered hallmarks of a cult are, to name a
few: a devotion to secrecy as regards beliefs and membership; a belief
system that is so esoteric as to be incomprehensible or so derivative as
to be patently false; financial requirements that can become onerous;
practices or requirements that isolate members from loved ones or bar
contact with anyone outside the religion; an obsession with a particular
leader who may be charismatic and authoritarian; and of course any
systematic physical or sexual abuse. The end result is an emotional and
spiritual dependency that is harmful to a person's well-being.
People can and will disagree as to whether Scientology qualifies under
any or all of these categories. Ultimately, determining whether a group
is a cult comes down to Justice Potter Stewart's famous threshold for
defining obscenity: "I know it when I see it." But another intriguing
aspect of Haggis' dissent is that he does not seem to be a classic
apostate or angry exile -- someone who has wholly renounced his former
beliefs and co-religionists and now means to do them harm.
Indeed, Haggis takes pains to say that "The great majority of
Scientologists I know are good people who are genuinely interested in
improving conditions on this planet and helping others. I have to
believe that if they knew what I now know, they too would be horrified."
In that sense, Haggis may be more of a reformer who wishes to see his
former church live up to its true calling rather than a defector who
wants to pulls the temple down around him.
We'll see what happens to Scientology. One mark of a "real" religion is
its ability to reform or adapt. Some religions could be said to begin as
cults and over time transform into religions. Similarly, religious
traditions, or parts of them, can also degenerate into cults. But cults
generally don't last long because they are so obsessive and rigid that
they cannot change in the face of challenges.
Perhaps Haggis needs to start his own branch of Scientology. It's a
model that has worked before.
