--Baba
There was an unprecedented reaction by both State and Federal governments to the Hilton Hotel bombing. It was considered Australia's first terrorist attack, so the Prime Minister became personally involved. He asked for daily reports, changed the venue for the Commonwealth Heads of State (CHOGOM) meeting and called on the army to protect the delegates.
Special Branch, the state intelligence police, put out a public request appealing for assistance to find the bombers. Richard John Seary, who was to play a leading role, presented himself to the New South Wales Special Branch investigation team. He said he had just seen the movie Star Wars and felt inspired to fight for a cause. Seary said he had information the investigators could use. Special Branch either did not have or did not follow a policy of checking the past history of its informants, because if they had done so, they would have found Seary far too unstable to be credible. He had been addicted to a variety of drugs since he was 12 years old: marijuana, LSD, cocaine and heroin. He was later diagnosed as psychotic with schizoid traits. His penchance for writing science fiction might have hinted at the fantasy world he lived in.
Seary initially said he thought that members of Hare Krishna may have done the bombing and that he was once a member of their organisation. He offered to spy on the Hare Krishnas for Special Branch, but they asked him to secretly investigate Ananda Marga instead. The Indian Prime Minister, Moraji Desai, who thought the bomb was aimed at him, publicly accused Ananda Marga. So Seary was assigned to join Ananda Marga as an undercover informant and to report every week on any information linking us to terrorism, specifically the Hilton Bombing. Special Branch assigned Detective John Krawsczyk to oversee Seary's spy mission.
No one asked us, but from our point of view, Ananda Marga would have been a very unlikely suspect in the bombing. At the opening of the CHOGOM meeting we had taken the opportunity to present Desai with a letter reminding him of his pre-election promise to release Baba. He had only recently been elected and had promised to re-examine Baba's case, so we had felt quite hopeful that he might help our cause. We would have had nothing to gain and everything to lose by threatening to kill him.
Other CHOGOM delegates also said they thought the bomb was for them. Many of the delegates seemed to be using the incident for a bit of grandstanding and finger- pointing.
By April 1978, a couple of months after the Hilton bombing, I had moved to the Sydney suburb of Burwood where I'd set up Volunteer Social Service headquarters. Sunday night group meditation was held at the Ananda Marga headquarters on Queen Street in Newtown in the inner city. I attended it regularly and it was during one of these meetings that I was introduced to a newly initiated member named Virat. He was Richard Seary.
Seary did not make a very strong impression on me. He was thin and a little unhealthy looking, but quite amiable. He also seemed nervous but I thought that was because he was new to Ananda Marga. I was asked to explain group meditation to him. When I had finished he asked me what I did. When I explained he seemed quite interested so I asked him if he would like to get involved. He smiled and agreed. One of my projects was weekly soup distribution for homeless people. Every Friday night a group of volunteers would come with me to bring soup to homeless people in the inner city area. Seary said he'd done a similar service project while working for the Wayside Chapel, a Christian service project in Sydney's notorious Kings Cross. He agreed to come with me the following Friday.
During the soup run Seary told me that when he was doing this kind of work for the Wayside Chapel, he'd often seen police beating derelicts they found sleeping in deserted buildings. This outraged me and I said in future we should take a camera and recorder just in case we came across any such police brutality.
Richard Seary's outward personality was usually easygoing. However, at times he seemed agitated and restless and I would encourage him to do more meditation and yoga exercises.
He often had many strange stories to tell. For example, he told me he was dying from lung disease because he had burnt one lung out with chemicals at a factory job, and had cancer in the other lung. Another time he told me he had been involved with the Hare Krishnas and had used guns and explosives to try to blow up an abattoir. He also told me, in secret, that he had a police record and had killed someone, but added that it was in self-defense.
I was very suspicious about much of what he said and felt he was trying to impress me because he actually believed the propaganda about Ananda Marga being a terrorist group. So I just ignored him and kept on emphasising the spiritual practices and service. I told him we were not into illegal activities. Once, he told me in confidence that if I ever wanted to do anything illegal for the mission then he was willing to help. Seary seemed to ignore my rebuff of this offer.
Indeed, most of what he said was false and calculated to bait me into talking about or joining him in terrorist activities. Later in court all of his stories were proven false.
Probably the most bizarre incident that happened with Seary was in May when I met him by accident in the middle of Sydney.
Seary said, "Can I show you the birthday present I have planned for you?"
Quite surprised I replied, "But my birthday isn't until July."
He replied, "It doesn't matter, I'd like to show you anyway."
"OK, let's see what you have in mind." I didn't want to dampen his enthusiasm and desire to please me. He had become very friendly towards me.
He took me into a gun shop and showed me a rather large hunting knife. It was a real shock for me but not wishing to seem ungrateful I told him that I didn't really have any use for it. Unperturbed Seary insisted, "Surely you can think of something to use it for."
All I could say was, "Not really."
"What about this rifle?"
"No, I'm not really into rifles, and anyway I don't have a gun license."
"It doesn't matter," Seary said, "You can get one for a few dollars."
Then Seary gave me a lecture on rifles, bullets and the type of damage they can cause to people. He could see I was not that interested in such things. I asked him, "What about that fencing set on the wall there?" Seary didn't seem very impressed with my suggestion but said he'd see about it.
Looking back I can easily see Seary was trying to incite or induce me into some kind of violence. I guess he needed something for his weekly reports. Each week he reported that there was no indication that Margiis were involved with the Hilton Bombing or any other acts of violence. It seems he'd targeted me as the head of this Service Group I'd started in Australia, because it had been wrongly termed a 'paramilitary wing of Ananda Marga.' The closest thing it got to paramilitary activities were my self-defense classes, and we didn't use weapons.
By about the third month of spying on us, Seary was coming under more pressure to find something to implicate Ananda Marga in the Hilton bombing. There was a lot of political pressure to find a scapegoat and the obscure, little known Ananda Marga seemed ideal.
At the same time, a Neo-Nazi group called the National Alliance had covered Sydney with racist posters in a 'Keep Australia White' campaign. Many margiis were talking about these horrible posters. Tim Anderson (known in Ananda Marga as Govinda) was the public relations secretary for Ananda Marga and a Margii I had known since LFT training. He was a tall, well built man with a serious, intense personality. He could also be quite friendly. He was planning to do an article on the National Alliance for Dharma, an Ananda Marga magazine. He wanted to interview the leader but couldn't locate his telephone number as it was unlisted. I was also thinking about what could be done to combat the racism they were spreading.
On June 15th, I was at the Ananda Marga headquarters in Newtown with Ross Dunn, a small-framed man with a friendly, sweet personality. Ross (whose Ananda Marga name was Vishvamitra) was an LFT who was particularly interested in social issues, so we started talking about the number of new Neo-Nazi posters that had been put up around town. I told him I was thinking of getting a small poster printed up with 'Fight Racism-Support Universalism' to post over the racist ones.
Seary came in and asked what we were talking about. I told him of our plan, which he thought was a good one. Then I asked if he could give any money towards the posters. He said he thought he could afford something. We found out later he was planning to ask the police for the money.
Tim joined us and we all discussed the National Alliance. Seary asked what were we going to do about it.
"I'm writing an article for Dharma on racist groups," Tim said. It turned out that Seary had the address for Robert Cameron, the leader of the Neo-Nazi group, which would help Tim with the article. He wrote it out on a piece of paper and gave it to him.
Later, Seary suggested to me that we go to Cameron's home and check it out for some possible anti-racist wall writing. I thought that was a good idea but agreed we should survey the place first as I had read that Cameron had a guard dog. Seary added that he was seeing a friend that night. He was sure he could borrow his car since none of us had one.
"I'll bring some paint just in case," he added. I said okay and invited Ross to come along.
"Why can't we go tomorrow night?" he asked.
"No, I've got the soup patrol to do then and besides Virat [Seary] can get a car tonight," I replied.
Ross agreed and Seary said he couldn't get the car until about 11 pm. We arranged to meet him at the front gate of Sydney University. We believed the Ananda Marga headquarters was being watched and the phone tapped by the Commonwealth police, and so we didn't want to be seen leaving the building.
I took a bath and did about an hour and a half of meditation then some yoga exercises. Tim had his office at Queen Street and I usually stayed with him when I spent the night there. He asked me why I was staying that particular night and I told him.
It was about 10.30 pm when I got my parka and went to the back shed to get some old clothes for wall writing. I was thinking that if it seemed safe to do the wall writing we should do it that night and not have to come back later. The old clothes would also act as a disguise in case we were seen.
As I was leaving, I saw Tim and we talked about my soup patrol. Since it was Thursday, and I wanted him to help me with it the next day, I invited Tim to come along on my walk towards Seary's car, so we could talk about it some more.
It was a dark, cold winter night and the ground was soaked from an earlier shower. As I crossed the road to the University, I had an ominous feeling that we were being watched. The scene was just like in the movies with stormy weather and the wind blowing. It was very eerie but I quickly dismissed the thought and reasoned that the police would not be watching us at this hour. Later, we found out that the observation squad were watching us. Perhaps I was having a premonition of things to come!
I saw Seary flashing his car lights nearby. Tim went to speak to him while I got into the front seat of the car next to Seary.
"Did you get any paint?" I asked.
"Yeah, everything is set to go."
Noticing Ross' absence I asked Seary if he had seen him. Just as Seary answered that he hadn't, Ross came out of the University gate and I waved to him. He got into the back seat where Tim was now sitting.
Seary asked if Tim was coming with us. He wasn't so we dropped Tim off at a corner near the Ananda Marga office.
We were now ready to go to Cameron's house, but Seary said first we needed some petrol.
"I hope this car doesn't have a lockable cap, because my friend only gave me one key," he said.
He pulled over and asked Ross to have a look. He confirmed that it was a lockable cap. Seary said we would have to bust it open.
"Won't your mate mind?" asked Ross.
Seary dismissed Ross' concern and said caps were cheap to get at car wreckers. But he added, "We will have to do it in a quiet street to avoid suspicion. I know of a lane we can do it in. When I was in the Hare Krishna's I used to go in this area."
After about 15 minutes Seary managed to break open the petrol cap and used an old rag to replace it. As I got back into the car I looked in the back seat and noticed there was no paint. I asked Seary where it was and he told me it was in the boot. This was in fact a lie. There was no paint anywhere in the car.
Later when we stopped for petrol, Seary became agitated when Ross took a long time in the toilet.
"What's your mate doing in there?" he asked.
I told him to calm down. By now I was getting suspicious of him. It did cross my mind that he may not be telling the truth about this car being lent by his friend, but what could I do? Soon he calmed down and I turned on some Pink Floyd music. Ironically the song was 'The Dark Side of the Moon.'
We continued out to the Sydney suburb of Yagoona. As we drove I started joking around by pulling up my polo neck sweater to cover my lower face. I put on some dark glasses I found in my pocket and pulled down my beanie to my eye brows. I asked Seary how he liked my disguise. He muttered something unintelligible but didn't seem to find it funny. Later, in court, Seary claimed this was how I dressed at the time of the Hilton Hotel bombing. It's surprising he got away with such a story at all, given that I was dressed for winter while the bombing occurred in the middle of summer.
It was a long drive, so after awhile I decided to do some meditation but soon fell asleep. I only slept about ten minutes before Ross woke me with a hand on my shoulder.
"Narada, Virat thinks we should blow up Cameron's car. He says we should give Cameron a real scare."
"What?"
"He's got explosives in the back of the car."
I was shocked and scared. "Are we safe?"
Seary said, "Sure, the detonator's not attached."
"What exactly are you suggesting?" I asked.
"Let's blow up his car. It will be much better publicity than graffiti. I know how to wire it up. All you need to do is put it under Cameron's car."
By now I was feeling annoyed and frustrated.
"Why didn't you tell me about your plan before?" I demanded.
Ross jumped in and said: "Christ, Virat, this is a pretty dangerous game playing with this stuff!"
I told Seary I thought it would be very dangerous for Ananda Marga if we were caught with explosives, not to speak of the fact that we could all be killed. Seary argued about our tactics and said we weren't 'revolutionary enough'.
I scoffed at him and said, "What do you think we are Virat?" and asked him to take us back. Ross said he would not have come if he'd known about 'this stuff' Seary had with him.
"You don't have to use the gear, but let's at least have a look at the place," Seary said.
I thought about his proposal for a moment since we were nearly there. But I felt too frightened by the explosives. Before I could tell him I wanted out, Seary was saying we were almost at Cameron's house.
Still in a quandary as to what we should do, I told him to drive down the next street, then after a short pause added that I thought we should go back. Nervously Ross said he wanted to go back as well.
Suddenly I heard shouting and turned to see a car alongside ours. The men inside had guns that were pointed at us. They were in plainclothes but I knew it was the police.
"Pull fucking over," one of them shouted at us. Seary pulled the car over onto the side of the road. I got out and put my hands up. My mantra was going a hundred miles an hour as I tried to stay calm and assess the situation.
One of the men came up to me and ordered, "Lie down on the ground!"
I quickly obeyed and my hands were cuffed behind my back. As I lay on my stomach I was searched. From where I was, I could see Ross lying against a pile of bricks. A man was growling at him angrily. Ross looked shaken and very frightened and later I found out he had been punched in the face several times.
Perhaps it was because of my mantra, or simply God's grace, but I quickly felt calm and composed. There was no fear, just curiosity. I was told to turn over and was searched again and then told to get up. A very big detective asked, "What's your name?" I didn't reply as this was Ananda Marga's policy.
"What's your name?" he repeated angrily.
"I'm not answering any questions."
"What's in the bag?"
I didn't answer. They kept harassing me about the explosives but I wasn't going to answer any questions without a lawyer. For a short moment my composure and detachment was nearly lost as I felt the distinct possibility of this big police officer beating me. Fortunately, it didn't come to that.
We were moved over to a fence and told to sit on the ground. I told them both, "Whatever happens, don't say anything until you get a lawyer." Seary seemed very scared so I said, "Don't worry, everything will be alright."
They told us not to talk. They searched me again and ordered me to take my shoes off while another detective held a gun at my head. Surprisingly, I wasn't afraid and noted the humour of the situation. They seemed so threatened by me, even with my hands handcuffed behind my back.
"What do you think I am going to do?" I asked.
"We can't take any chances," said one detective.
We were separated and I was put into the back of a police van. Many police had now gathered. Several were surrounding Ross and Seary. The police were afraid the explosives would go off and had called in the army bomb disposal unit. Ross offered to go with the army specialists to get the bag to prove it was safe. He had seen that the detonator wasn't attached to the gelignite sticks. Nevertheless, they still evacuated the neighbourhood. It was an impressive drama with the police and the army running around, shouting orders and leading bewildered people from their homes. It was about midnight and most of the people were in dressing gowns or pyjamas.
Meanwhile, I sat in the van and decided to try to sleep. But this was difficult with my hands cuffed. With a bit of wriggling (and some yoga flexibility) I was able to get my hands in front of me. Then I pulled off the extra pair of trousers I had put on for wall writing and used them as a pillow. For the second time that night I tried to get some rest, but it wasn't to be.
The detectives took me out of the van and showed me some objects on the ground that I didn't recognise, except for what I thought looked like a few sticks of gelignite. Back at the van, I asked,
"What was that all about?"
"You'll soon find out," a detective said.
He was smiling and he asked again, "What is your name?"
I didn't reply.
"I've got to call you something."
"Okay," I said, "Call me Bill."
"Bill is your name then?"
"You can call me that."
I was put into the front of a police van and later into a car with three detectives. In the van I heard a police officer say into his walkie-talkie, "Anderson has been arrested." I could hear that they were cynical as they discussed that he was the public relations secretary of Ananda Marga. They knew Tim because he had been publicly critical of the police. He complained about the way they had been harassing and framing margiis in order to appease the Indian government who wished to stop our 'Free Baba campaign'.
I sat in the police car and wondered what was going to happen next. I felt bewildered and confused at why the police would have followed us when we had only planned to do some graffiti. I could only think they must be really desperate to harass Ananda Marga. The gelignite that had turned up in the car really complicated the situation. Seary had always wanted to impress me but this time he had really gone too far!
It was well after midnight before we finally drove off. The officer sitting next to me asked me how I got my hands to the front. I told him that I did yoga and that made it easy for me.
They took me to the Central Investigation Bureau (CIB) where I was taken into a room with two detectives who played the nice guy/nasty guy roles. This is a standard police modus operandi aimed at convincing the suspect to tell all to the nice guy in order to avoid the mean one.
They searched me for the fourth time that night and handcuffed one of my wrists to the leg of the table. They told me I was being charged with conspiracy to murder Robert Cameron. I was shocked to hear this but remained expressionless. By God's grace I felt detached and confident that everything would turn out alright in the end.
They began to interrogate me, but I remained silent.
"You are going to make it worse if you don't answer," they said.
There was still no response from me. For some hours they tried different psychological methods to get me to talk. Sometimes they acted in a nice way, sometimes in a nasty way. They sat in silence staring at me, and when I just closed my eyes and tried to sleep, they kept talking at me.
"I would say you're in your twenties. So that would make you around 35 or 40 when you get out. Such a waste of the best part of your life&emdash;gone down the drain. It could be a lot less if you cooperate," they threatened.
Finally, they stopped talking to me and let me sleep for an hour or so. Then they handcuffed me behind my back again and drove me to the Central Police Station to be charged. On the way, we turned down a narrow street and one of the detectives turned to me and said:
"I think we'll let you out here so that we can finish you for good." The car slowed down considerably and he said:
"Why don't you make a run for it so we can finish you off?"
Fear gripped me as I realised what they where trying to do. I thought if they were going to murder me they would have to do it in their car. I was not going to move an inch! A few long, tense seconds passed before the car sped up again. Later in jail I heard many stories claiming that detectives of this branch had killed suspects.
At Central Police Station, I saw Ross and Tim. After fingerprints and mug shots we were locked up. What a strange night. What started as graffiti against racism turned into a charge of murder!