With the hunger strike victory behind me, I was looking forward to another victory in court. Tim and Ross were also looking forward to our trial. At last we thought we would be able to present our side and clear our names once and for all. We had lived with the 'terrorist' tag now for about eight months, as had Ananda Marga. Eight months in jail felt like a very long time and I was eager to get out soon. The Margiis were also confident of our acquittal and eagerly sought the inevitable "not guilty" verdict. They had been visiting us at every opportunity, giving us support and inspiration. They said they also received inspiration and strength from our firm protest in jail. We were certain it was only a matter of time now.
Our lawyers were public defenders through legal aid. We had no money, and Ananda Marga also had no funds to help us. Tim's parents also paid for a top Sydney Queens Council, Marcus Einfeld. Ross's barrister was Michael Adams again and mine was Ken Shadbolt. Shadbolt and Einfeld later became judges. Marcus is a tall, solid man with a commanding presence both in and out of court. He was the first barrister to really shake Seary in the trial that followed. It was quite something to watch.
Although Einfeld was Tim's senior counsel, he only appeared in court for a few days to cross-examine Seary. During the remaining weeks, his defence was held by Michael Bowdor, the barrister Tim had in our committal hearing. Bowdor was a soft spoken man with little overt strength of personality compared to Einfeld.
Michael Adams is also quite a tall man, but much heavier than most men his size. His manner was very dramatic. In contrast, Ken was quiet and methodical, although very firm and defiant. He and Bowdor were a good balance to Adams and Einfeld.
The trial began in mid February,1979. One of the things I liked about going to court was that we got to wear normal clothes that were comfortable and fit properly! What I didn't like was going back to the old court routine of having to get up very early, rush through meditation, yoga postures and breakfast (if we ate at all.) Then we would spend hours waiting in the cold cages before being put in meat wagons like sardines (or more precisely, smoked sardines) and being shipped off to court.
While the stuffy, claustrophobic vans were uncomfortable to say the least, one thrill we looked forward to was seeing the world outside the jail again. For some unknown reason, the air vent was covered with a large flap which prevented fresh air and light getting in and prevented us from seeing out. Still we managed to peer through the gap and see some trees or people in brightly coloured clothes. That was such a treat for me after the grey walls and clothing of prison. It also made me impatient to get out!
As the van went into the courthouse, we could hear a large steel gate clang shut behind us. When the van had stopped we heard the sound of jingling keys before the van door opened up. A group of policemen stood in a line to guide us into the doorway that led to our cells. Once we were in a cell a policeman unlocked our cuffs. We stayed there until we were called for our trial.
The cells varied in size, some not much bigger than a jail cell, others twice as big. The main difference is that the front of the cell was only bars and wire mesh. There was absolutely no privacy and no way to escape from noise or other people. Each holding cell had a toilet and a little wash basin or water fountain. Their ability to function varied considerably from cell to cell. The toilets had a waist high wall in front, which gave little privacy.
Before our trial started, we were taken away to another cell beneath the court.
"All right, you Ananda Marga boys, it's time to go," alerted the policeman who was to take us away.
"Good luck" was the usual comment prisoners made as we walked off. By then we had often had plenty of time to talk about both of our cases and Ananda Marga. "Thanks," came our reply. "Same to you."
We went down several steps and along a narrow damp tunnel. It was not very high and in some places we had to watch our heads for overhanging beams. The tunnel curved at several points before reaching our destination. "Stay here," the policeman would command. Two other officers also accompanied him. Before us was a stairway that lead up into the courtroom in which we were to appear. After Judge Nagle had entered, we were called up. A policeman led the way, another came between us and one followed behind. When we got to the top, they went to the left into the courtroom. We turned right at the top and walked into an enclosed seating area for the accused. A door was shut behind us and a policeman sat guarding the door outside the courtroom.
It was quite a contrast to come up from a dark, silent underground tunnel into the bright lights and noise of a crowded courtroom. First we saw our lawyers, then the police and the public at the back of the room, and of course the media, lots of them!
The first time I came up into court I felt a hum of excitement in the air. I was excited, too, and felt positive and confident.
"How are you, Paul?" Ken Shadbolt asked in greeting.
"I'm fine." I assured him. I looked around the court to see if there was any Margiis I knew. I saw some and smiled at them. They smiled back, sharing my confidence.
It was a packed room, mainly because of the police and the media. Tim's parents were there, but I am not sure about Ross' parents, although they gave evidence later. My parents were not able to afford another journey across the country on top of my Dad's trip to visit me at the time of my arrest.
Sharp-shooters were on the roof and surveillance cameras scanned people coming into the building. Everyone entering had to be checked by security police with metal detectors. Our prison van was followed each day by a helicopter. After a couple of days we cynically noticed that the sharp-shooters and security check had vanished. But not before the media had painted a picture of us as dangerous terrorists guarded by security police in case of a daring breakout attempt. This was the exactly the impression the security police were trying to create to prejudice our trial.
The first part of the trial was jury selection. We were allowed to reject several of the people on offer to us. We exercised this right fully, as did the prosecution. Eventually a panel of twelve jurors were selected, but I still didn't think these people would ever be able to understand our perspective.
The trial began with the police prosecution outlining its case against us. From the outset the jury was influenced by the police fabrications (which we called 'verbals') and Seary's lies. This included the Hilton Bombing allegation. Ross looked agitated as our so called 'confessions' ware briefly mentioned. He turned to Tim and they both muttered something in a sarcastic tone.
Then the prosecution called its witnesses. The police were called first and repeated their verbals just as they had at the Committal Hearing. Although it was disgusting to hear them tell these lies again, it didn't bother me as I believed no one in their right mind could believe the police. I watched the media busily write down the police verbal whenever it became sensational. Later we would predict to each other what the headlines or news would be that night.
In the committal hearing Seary testified first, however at the trial the prosecution saved him for a dramatic ending, despite our lawyer's objections. By now the jury had heard all kinds of terrible things about our alleged violence and extremism. When Seary echoed much of what the police had said, it gave credibility to his otherwise implausible story.
When Seary came to stand in the witness box, a hush of silence spread over the normally noisy courtroom. The media had their pens to the paper and their eyes glued to the witness box as they waited to pounce on every sensational allegation Seary made- especially about the Hilton bombing. When Seary finally told his story about how we had admitted to the Hilton bombing during the car ride to Cameron's house, the media seemed to treat it as if it was the first time they had heard it! The usual headlines covered the papers the next day, implicating us in the Hilton bombing. Not a single newspaper noted the discrepancies and contradictions of the case.
Our lawyers unearthed a major discrepancy while cross examining Seary. They found out that Seary made no mention of our so called Hilton bombing admission in his interview with the police the night of our arrest. It was not until his fourth interview in July, over two months after the supposed fact, and just before our Committal Hearing, that Seary spelled out the whole of his fantasy story.
We didn't hear the full details of Seary's fantastic claims until the trial. Now records of his police interviews were read out and we were amazed at the lies he had concocted to describe how we had done the bombing. He claimed I was the one who planted the bomb in a rubbish bin outside of the hotel. He said I told him that I wore a disguise to walk through the crowd in Sydney's George Street, outside the Hotel. Apparently I wore the same clothing he claimed I was wearing when I told him the story on the way to Cameron's House. At that time I had been wearing dark heavy winter clothing in preparation for some night time graffiti. I had jokingly pulled my turtle neck jumper up to my mouth and pulled my beanie down to my eye brows. Seary added in the fantasy that I also put on thick clear classes! With this ridiculous 'disguise' I was meant to have gone through a crowd in Sydney in the middle of a hot summer's day, and planted a bomb! I would have stood out like a sore thumb!
Frustratingly, I was never allowed to mention my most important defence: the fact that I had 16 witnesses who could have testified to provide I was in Adelaide, 1,500 kilometres away, leading a retreat at the time of the bombing. This could have killed any doubt about my innocence. But we were not on trial for the Hilton Bombing so my whereabouts at that time were not relevant, or so they said. I hoped someone would ask me about it---defence or prosecution---but no one did, so I could not mention my alibi.
Needless to say, our barristers made much of the discrepancies in Seary's unbelievable story. However by the time the police prosecution had finished calling witnesses, the jury seemed already to have made up their minds that we were guilty. Although they may not have been convinced we had conspired to kill Cameron, they were convinced we had done the Hilton bombing, so they felt they had to convict us, even though that's not what we were on trial for.
The jury foreman, Ross Hilton Clark, later wrote to the Attorney General. He said:
Much of the evidence of the Hilton Bombing that was allowed...prejudiced the jury...Some of the jurors held the opinion that we wouldn't worry so much about the evidence [of the Cameron case] (and there was a great deal of evidence) because the judge will direct us what to do in his summing up...Some of the jurors could not believe that any of the police might lie, even when totally contradicted by other police."
When interviewed on a film about our case, the foreman said if he saw some of the police allegations on TV, he'd turn over to another station--- it was that implausible!
Finally, two weeks later, we were allowed to present our side of the story. Tim gave evidence first, then Ross, then me. I felt nervous giving evidence, but by the time my barrister had finished asking me questions, I felt relaxed and confident. Consequently when I was cross-examined by the prosecution I was not nervous or intimidated. Indeed towards the end of his cross-examination I was enjoying being able to refute his allegations and felt disappointed when it ended. I felt God to be close by my side during the whole experience.
Our lawyers thought we all did well in the box: none of us were shaken by the cross examination. The fact that the prosecution made virtually no criticism of our actual evidence said a lot about the credibility and strength of our case.
Each of our barristers summed up with skilful eloquence. Some of the jurors seemed convinced by their arguments, particularly the foreman. Because the prosecution lawyer had his turn after our lawyers, he was able to criticise their arguments and have the last say. The judge, Justice Nagle, summed up after the prosecution. We had mixed feelings about what he said.
We were led back down underground to our cells to prepare for the verdict. The long wait began.
It was afternoon when we began the wait. We discussed the case and all agreed that nothing we had said during cross examination could be used against us. We felt confident that the jury wouldn't be fooled by the fabricated police evidence or Seary's contradictory story. Our case seemed to be rationally sound. Their case was full of holes.
"Has your trial finished?" came a voice from a cell opposite ours.
"Yes mate" said Tim.
"How's it looking?" asked the prisoner.
"Pretty good. The Crown had no real case against us."
"That's great," said the delighted prisoner, "I've been following your case a bit in the papers and it seems like a set-up by the jacks [detectives]. Best of luck."
"Thanks mate!" we replied.
Ross and I decided to do some meditation. We washed in the small sink, and sat on the bench. After awhile Tim joined us.
Hours passed and still no verdict. A few times we were called back in because the jurors had a question to ask regarding the evidence. Each question showed disbelief about the police evidence and seemed to show acceptance of our story. We felt encouraged after each questioning. But by the time afternoon had turned to night there was still no decision.
By now the cells were empty except for us. Courts had finished at 4:00 pm and the other prisoners had been taken to jail.
A policeman came in and asked how we were going.
"Fine, thank you," said Ross, a bit surprised at the policeman's friendliness. After hearing our evidence for the first time, some policemen seemed to believe we were actually innocent.
"How do you think the trial went?" asked the policeman.
Ross replied: "It's looking good. We've been back in court a couple of times and the questions the jurors ask seem to favour us."
"I've found during the years that I've worked here," added the policeman,"that the longer it takes a jury to come to a decision, the better chance you have of acquittal."
"Yes" said Ross, "I'm feeling more confident as time goes on. You'd think if they were really going to convict us they would have decided it by now. The long delay can indicate they are having some doubts about our guilt."
I interjected: "Probably one or two of them can't believe the detectives lied."
The policeman seemed a bit uncomfortable when I said that but then remarked, "Yes, well, of course at times some police lie."
Tim responded with a sarcastic smile thinking the policeman had understated the amount of police lies.
"Well they lied in our case," reacted Ross.
"From what I know of the case," continued the policeman, "it does seem suspect. I don't know much about that 'Amanda Marga', but from talking with you three and from what I know about your case, it does seem that something has gone wrong somewhere. You certainly don't fit the image of bombers."
"Thank you," I said "I hope the jury thinks the same as you!"
The policeman left and we went back to pensive silence. I took my mind off the verdict and daydreamed about my future plans. Now I could go to India, see Baba and return to acharya training. I imagined the pleasure of being with the Margiis and visiting my parents again.
Finally the friendly policeman came in and said:
"You're wanted. I think it's a hung jury." We jumped up, collected ourselves, and followed the policeman downstairs, along the underground tunnel to the bottom of the courtroom stairs. There we anxiously waited to be summoned into the court room for the verdict.
"A hung jury," I thought. "That means they could not reach a verdict and we will have to have another trial."
There were wo knocks on the court floor above us as the sheriff struck his staff against the floor and announced: "All be upstanding!" We could hear the judge walking into the courtroom and taking his seat, and then we heard everyone in the court sitting down. A policeman called for us and we were lead up the stairs and into the courtroom.
It was a hung jury! Justice Nagel announced that the jury had not been able to reach a verdict and after words of thanks, discharged them. We felt very disappointed by the result. We thought one or two of the jury must have believed we were guilty, and it seemed a pity to have been so close to freedom. Later we found out that only the foreman believed we were innocent and his strong conviction of our innocence prevented a guilty verdict! In a letter to the Attorney General the foreman wrote: ..No impartial, logical thinking person could find Alister and Dun guilty of the second charge, (attempted murder of the arresting police officers) and would have very grave doubts about the first charge (conspiracy to murder Cameron) against all three. It is much more than a reasonable doubt.
After the hung jury we prepared for the second trial, which was held four months later. For this trial, in July 1979, neither Einfeld nor Shadbolt could appear for Tim and I. Tim ended up with a good lawyer and former State Attorney General, Sir Kenneth McCaw. My barrister was Sean Flood who unfortunately didn't come until a week before the trial began. Consequently he didn't have much time to prepare for it. In fact he was still reading transcripts during the trial! It was not his fault that legal aid hired him at a late stage. Generally I was happy with the way he fought for me considering the time handicap.
Since the first trial we had received a copy of a newspaper called 'Sydney Shout.' In May it carried a front page article reporting that an ASIO agent had claimed that "the Ananda Marga religious group...had been framed," and that, "one of the senior officers...had a personal hatred of the Ananda Marga." This gave us added optimism for an acquittal.
As with the first trial, we had a helicopter following our transport to the court, sharp shooters on the courthouse roof, surveillance cameras and metal detectors at the door. Again, after a few days these elaborate, ostentatious security measures suddenly vanished. But not before the whole show had prejudiced the media and any potential jurors.
Eric Mountier, a juror in our second trial later wrote:
"The police sharp shooters on top of the courthouse the first couple of days of the trial and the general security made me feel uneasy. The effect was intimidating and created a hostile atmosphere."
We heard that at least one potential juror asked to be excused from jury duty because they were afraid of getting involved with the case.
Two things in this trial differentiated it from the first trial. The prosecutor, Mr Gregory, introduced far more defamatory cross-examination material and the trial judge (nicknamed in some circles as 'Injustice' Lee) appeared to be more against us than Justice Nagle. He seemed to want us convicted.
During the prosecution's cross-examination, Tim and I were asked for the first time about the Hilton bombing, which had the effect of prejudicing the jury even further. They asked us more questions about the Ananda Marga organisation and other matters not directly related to our charges. This was solely designed to sway the jury, and it did. In his letter to the Attorney General, juror Eric Mountier wrote:
....I have thought a lot about the trial...and have reached the conclusion that it was not a fair hearing. Firstly, although the judge told us to disregard the accusations about the Hilton bombing, there was always the thought at the back of my mind that the three Ananda Marga men were involved in some way. This was mainly because the prosecution cross-examination centred around the Hilton accusations. Some of the jurors said they thought the three men were probably guilty of the Hilton bombing. But there was no evidence at all to support this, and the charges did not relate to the Hilton bombing anyway.
Even though I was very careful to avoid newspapers and radio reports of the trial, I could not help seeing some headlines or listening to some reports which refered to the Hilton accusations. The general atmosphere created by these reports made it difficult to really detach yourself and look at the case objectively.
As well as printing stories about the Hilton, the papers painted a picture of Ananda Marga as a dangerous terrorist group. Whether this is true or not I can't say, but certainly I feel that this image affected us in making a decision.
Also, the prosecution barristers questioned the three men for a long time about Ananda Marga. None of us knew anything about Ananda Marga or what it did, and what we did find out sounded very strange and foreign, and was prejudicial to the charges. This certainly affected my attitude to the three men.
When I was asked about the Hilton bombing, I could only deny the charges. I couldn't present witnesses or evidence proving I was in Adelaide at the time because, as in the last case, I wasn't directly charged with the Hilton bombing. The prosecution capitalised on this complication at every turn to convince the jury of our guilt. Our lawyers often protested about prejudicial material being led into court but with little success. The judge seemed determined to get us convicted!
Seary's evidence had expanded at each and every court appearance. It had grown since the Committal Hearing and had grown again significantly since the last trial! For example now he claimed that we we had planned to kill Cameron, his wife and three children. He had made no mention at the Committal Hearing of Cameron's family.
He made up more incriminating details which indicated his inventive mind at work again. For example Seary claimed that Tim and I synchronised our watches before Ross and I drove off with Seary to Cameron's house. However police records show that, when we were arrested and all our belongings were recorded, neither of us had watches!
We expected another "long wait" this time, but we didn't have quite the same confidence as we did at the last trial. We felt suspicious right away when after less than two hours we were called back to court to hear the verdict.
"How could they have studied three weeks of evidence in such a short time?" But then I thought. "Maybe they could see how blatantly innocent we were."
As we walked down the stairway and along the tunnel, I was feeling happy inside, even excited, imagining we would be free soon. As I waited at the bottom of the steps into the courtroom, I walked up and down quietly singing a spiritual tune to myself. Ross and Tim were still and pensive. Ross was convinced the worst was to come. I was feeling optimistic until suddenly a dreadful feeling swept through me that made me shudder momentarily:
"They are going to find us guilty!" I thought, with my stomach churning and cold shivers running down my spine. "Has God has been giving me all this inspiration to prepare me for the worst!?"
I quickly regained control of myself, fearing I was going to panic. Logically they had to find us innocent, so why panic? Most of my optimism and confidence returned, although a little tension remained in anticipation of a bad result. But it was now all in God's benevolent hands.
Finally the call came for us to go up the stairway and face the music- be it sweet or bitter! At the dock we watched the jurors file in. They were looking everywhere except towards us. We were once told by a crim that if the jury looks at you it means they have a "not guilty" verdict. If they don't, the verdict is guilty! This crossed my mind and I felt my tenseness increased ten-fold.
"Could it be that I'm going to be convicted for an outrageous crime that I didn't do, and then spent my youth behind bars?" I lamented to myself.
"Have you reached a verdict?" asked the Judge.
"Yes," replied the foreman of the jury. "Guilty."
We had been found guilty on all charges.
Tim later said he felt his heart sink as he heard the word "Guilty." Ross said he felt dreadful, as did the Margiis, parents and supporters in the room. It was as if our future had been painted black. The possibility loomed before us of spending years, or even the rest of our life in prison.
For a split second, I was overcome with grief, but then quickly my mind shifted to a philosophical view of the verdict. I had a sense of being unwittingly thrown into a big cosmic drama and I had no idea how it would end. I had the feeling that God had tossed me into a huge, dark and lonely pit and was watching to see how I would get out.
"You're on your own now, and the only way you can get out is if you don't lose faith in Me," was the message I heard internally.
I felt I was facing the ultimate challenge and this aroused my fighting spirit. I became determined to "get out of this dark pit" by God's grace. Since the unfairness of the conviction was something far greater than I felt I could fight alone, I knew intuitively that God was going to do something great with us in order to defeat this injustice. I did not know what or how, as everything seemed stacked against us, but I felt internally a strong reassurance that in the end Dharma (righteousness) would be victorious.
Looking at my friends in the courtroom I could feel their pain and I wanted to tell them that everything was going to be all right in the end, but I couldn't. Surrounded by police, we were not allowed to speak to anyone as we were lead away. However, my inspiration was clouded when I saw the pained faces of the Margiis as we left. The room was filled with depression. Only the police were elated, as they smiled openly, shook hands, and celebrated their victory.
The van trip back was a very solemn one indeed. None of us could speak. I worried how my parents would cope with the verdict. In fact they were devastated, as were Ross and Tim's parents.
That night back at the Remand centre, a lot of prisoners asked me about the verdict. They said they were sorry to hear about it but felt it wasn't over yet. I reassured them it wasn't. One prisoner said he could not understand why I did not look unhappy. There was no real reply to give him. I was feeling quite moved in a spiritual sense but it was difficult to explain. At the most critical hour of need, God had graced me with detachment and presence of mind.
When I went to Ross and Tim's cell they were already asleep. The energy in the cell was low and I guessed that's why they had gone to bed so early. The next morning Ross did not even want to get out of bed. He said he felt dead and didn't want to live. It was a very sad time.
A lot of the prison officers were very cocky after our conviction and seemed happy with the result. One grinning officer said to Ross:
"You'll get life and deserve it."
The next week we appeared before Justice Lee to be sentenced. By now our spirits were up again and we were in a fighting mood. We decided we could not accept the verdict or the sentence. We had to campaign to clear our names.
When we appeared before Justice Lee we each prepared a speech to show our rejection of the verdict and sentence. We expected to get life imprisonment so we weren't too concerned with what we said.
Tim stood up and to show his conviction that this injust judgment would be eventually repealed, requested the maximum sentence. With a similar sentiment and protest, I asked for life imprisonment. Ross declared himself a political prisoner!
This shocked the Judge somewhat as he was expecting us to be intimidated by our predicament. He read out his prepared speech criticising our "arrogance" and unwillingness to express remorse for what we had done. He stressed the horror of our crime of conspiracy to murder and attempted murder of the arresting police. He declared that in order to set an example for other terrorists, he would give us 16 years without parole. This was the first time New South Wales had experienced "terrorism" and he said terrorists would not get parole.
After the sentencing we were put into holding cells. Michael Adams came down to our cells to try and console us. He looked like he needed consoling himself. Ross and I were given 16 years for the attempted murder charge, and an additional 16 years for the conspiracy charge. I calculated that Ross and I would be in prison for 32 years!
"Something really is going to have to be done. I can't believe I'm going to do 32 years for graffiti!" I said.
But then Michael Adams explained to me that the second 16 year charge ran concurrently, so in reality our sentence was only for16 years.
"Things are looking better already!" I jokingly thought to myself. Humour was a good defence against depression and hopelessness.
to chapter 16 The Hilton Bombing Inquest