Faithful friends, cult followers and the stars who didn’t show
There was no trace of Hollywood glitz as Dublin’s new Scientology Centre opened its doors, writes Donal Lynch
THE rumour, spreading like wildfire up and down the Firhouse Road, was that the actual Tom Cruise had shown up at the opening of the new Scientology Centre in Dublin on Saturday afternoon.
Or, if not the Cruiser, then maybe they’d beamed down John Travolta, the public speculated.
And surely if either had waved over the barriers, the mass of gathered reporters would have politely stopped referring to Scientology as a cult, accepted they can’t handle the truth, and meekly submitted their brains and wallets for evaluation.
Blessedly and boringly, it never came to that and, despite the ‘Keep Tom Cruise Out Of Firhouse’ sign that one protester defiantly brandished all afternoon it felt easier to believe in Xanu bringing us back to his home planet than it was to credit film stars showing up in this fairly bleak stretch of south side suburbia.
For all the fanfare, skirmishes, rumours and money, this event lacked the crucial pinch of surreal glitziness that fuels the worldwide fascination with Scientology.
It would appear that, for all their otherworldly powers, Scientologists, like the rest of us, have been somewhat caught up in the twin terrors of Brexit and the housing crisis.
True they still have their “trophy” building, within a sneer of the Oscar Wilde statue, on Merrion Square and another all purpose conversion emporium on Abbey Street, but despite the reportedly generous underwriting from HQ in Los Angeles, this desolatelooking precinct wouldn’t impress a desperate First Time Buyer, never mind a gullible neophyte in the market for sci-fi silliness and quackery.
It is difficult to escape the impression that for every Scientologist in Ireland — the census reckons a measly 87 — there are about 25 protesters. These had gathered outside the gates from early afternoon and included autism campaigners, self-styled cult busters, disgruntled local residents and former members of the Church.
Some, like the Scientologists themselves, had travelled in from overseas, particularly the UK, and held up signs alleging things like “fraud”, “unexplained deaths” and the even more mysterious sounding “pubic deception”. The protesters had intensively flyered the local area in the few days before yesterday’s event and were quietly pleased at the large turnout. Their collective presence helped ensure that the Scientologists held fast to their tradition of “opening” in such as way as to strictly prevent anyone who shows up from entering. To some, this might be a confusing way to introduce yourself, but in a sense it is a perfect promotional and screening strategy. If someone is able to get their head around the idea of having a grand opening, while simultaneously slamming your doors shut, then they might well be ready for more esoteric lunacy, such as curing autism with bleach and sweating out the mental illness. As with other openings, this one featured ad hominem accusations of assault and provocation of the heavy security presence; one man placed his toddler daughter over the rails, stepped over it to retrieve her, and was then accused of using her as a weapon. Over a high wall, a gaudy stage, festooned in tricolour flags, had been erected. The people who entered and left the compound did not look at the protesters and one covered her ears as the protesters bellowed through megaphones.
The so-called “Pope of Scientology” David Miscavige was reported to be flying in for the opening, although he was not seen outside the venue yesterday. According to local residents, the real action had happened earlier in the supermarket when wellheeled German and Austrian Scientologists foraged for fruit and Cuisine de France alongside bemused locals.
They may have to get used to meeting members of the Church. The new centre in Firhouse is speculated by former member John McGhee to be in line to become a kind of post-Brexit European headquarters, which will no doubt gladden hearts at the IDA.
With a European record of three Scientology centres, we are now indisputably the best little country in the world to run a cult.