Operation Clambake presents:

The H-Files

FBI files on L Ron Hubbard


March 5, 1954



Two of your recent articles have brought questions to my mind that you might consider worth answering in some future column.

The first concerns your definition of a communist.

In 1947 I joined an anti-Communist Party, communist group. It has since been labled [sic] subversive--and God knows, if the Communist Party is subversive, the one I joined was twice so; they even subverted the Communists. You surely know enough abut communism to realize that I did not believe myself to be subversive, but instead believed that I was one of _the_ enlightened young men, who, if we could just present our case adequately enough, would convince all the poor misguided capitalists that their brutal ways were futile and that by foregoing them they could create a heaven on earth. I have yet to meet one of the so-called cynical communists; I've known quite a few of different leftist persuasions, but each one fervently believed himself to be an American patriot---and the, "All-American," to be a traitor, motivated by greed.

I quit the group within a few months, giving these three reasons: (1) I objected to the group's insistence that non-communist writers should not be read; (2) I believed they were wasting time, and should start the revolution immediately; (3) I didn't believe that good could result from violence. You may note a lack of consistency in these reasons. I've more recently realized that I simply lacked the guts required even to be a communist.

From the point on, I justified my being practically a bum, by the noble ideals, including Marxism, that I aspired to. I wanted such good things for the world, that people should excuse my not holding a job, borrowing from them, etc., etc. Besides, some day I was going to write a book that would achieve the bloodless revolution.

Then, being a crackpot of the overly intellectual variety, when the crackpot therapy, "Dianetics," came along, I got involved with that. But I was unique from the other crackpots I have met in that field, in that I'm a whiz at reading-comprehension; I finish those tests that aren't supposed to be finished, in three quarters of the alloted time, and get _all_ the answers right.

I'll cut this sob-story short. I understood Dianetics, followed directions, and not surprisingly considering that the technique has been developed by the empirical "scientific method" from the ground, up--I got and am getting results.

Okay, what results?

I started as less than a communist and am at this point by practical definition almost a fascist--this latter qualified by the realization that the goal-motivated, free society envisioned by our Constitution is probably the sanest concept of government since the technically impossible attempts at democracy by the Greeks some three-thousand years ago.

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Now to set the stage for my first question, first let me define communism, fascism, etc. as they are understood in Dianetics. To a dianeticist, the "natural" functional state of any sane and healthy person is indicated by the word, "enthusiastic." Dianetics postulates that the Good Lord did a mighty fine job of constructing us--enthusiasm as the normal state, then, for emergencies, different psysiological [sic] adjustments, nervous, muscular, vascular, glandular take place that are emotionally experienced as, indicatively: strong interest, mild interest, content, indifference, boredom, threatening, anger, veiled-hate, fear, grief, apathy, deepest apathy, death. From any of these psysiological [sic] adjustments the body is supposed to readjust itself automatically back up to enthusiasm; from "death," this seems to involve getting reborn. (You may not like this mechanical description; I know I don't, but it's convenient) Unfortunately, this readjustment is accompanied by several side effects that man, not understanding, has decided to dispense with: apathy comes off with deep sighs; grief with bawling; fear with perspiration, "hysterical" laughter, etc; anger with violent activity. Edietic day-dreams on the entire depressive situation seem a necessary part of reattaining enthusiasm. And every single damned one of these things is treated by our society as uncouth, animal, something to be ashamed of, or a sign of weakness. Result: people don't readjust back up to enthusiasm, but instead, by the time they are in their teens, they are, on the average, chronically depressed to anger, and by the time they reach maturity, they've become "intellectuals"--too beat to fight openly, they start undermining, with big words and twisted conceptions.

Political states are reflections of emotional states. Our nation was conceived against a background of unbelievable freedom and potential wealth by men vigorous and alive enough to carve a nation from wilderness. Further, they were coalesced by a goal, thus mingling and augmenting their strength. They created a nation reflecting their temperament.

Time, and to a great measure, freedom passes. The sick mores of Europe and its culture find their way to a no longer so vigorous United States. By the time of Teddy Roosevelt, the temperament of the people finds best expression in the threat, "Carry a big stick!," and in the anger--fascism--of the Cuban war. And fascism breeds veiled-hate and fear--communism: hiding behind makeup-falsies-perverted ethics-foreign culture-intellectualism, to strike out deviously at anything strong: as Marx would destroy FREE enterprise, from behind the facade of a glorious sounding, mathematically brilliant, intellectual tour de force that seeks to impose nothing other than the CONTROLS which destroy that greatest beauty and strength of all--life. Next step down: the apathy of India, and until recently of China, who I believe took an upward step with communism, surged up to fascism, and may damn well, if encouraged, continue right on up to free enterprise.

Here, at last, is the question:

To me a Communist is a sick person, who, I know can be cured. His sickness is, however, virulently contagious--yet! the most direct source of his sickness is the fascist, the man who scares the bejesus out of him. I recognize McCarthy as a far healthier man than a communist, and as a guidon of a vigorous resurgence of our nation. Yet, I know damn well that McCarthy has created more communists in this country, with the exception of Hitler, than any man since John Wesley managed to get castrated by some Washington businessmen twenty-odd years ago. Particularly, among Jews, who five years ago would have knocked your block off it you spouted communism--but who now, seeing in McCarthy the rising American Hitler, and smelling the stench of the furnaces from just beyond tomorrow, are now muttering unfamiliar phrases about controlled economy, or, "wasn't Jack London's writing marvelous?," or, "you know, so-and-so (a commie) makes some sense at that...," to such an extent that since getting my boost from Dianetics, I feel nauseated trying to talk to these people

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who used to feel nauseated trying to talk to me.

Healthier than a communist, yes!--but Mr. McCarthy has split this nation into a million suspicious segments, while coalescing into a firm legion the previously constantly inter-squabbling factions of leftists.

I was raised under a dictatorship, my grandfather's.

Should I now, recognising the psychotic slime I became under that dictatorship to be a devious poison, ally myself with the overt blackjack of McCarthyism? Would that, according to your lights, make an honest American of me, or would it not be a perversion of honesty itself? Further, those persons above anger, are they failing their duty as citizens, when they fail to ally themselves with the anti-communist movement which relative to themselves is destruction incarnate?--or put it this way:

Jefferson, were he alive today, but retaining the sanity of yesterday, would despise communism. But do you believe that he would deny the communists freedom of thought and belief, or would he view them as he viewed other men: when sick, sick through controls; when revolting, serving a valuable function as a symptom of a sickness in the society, NOT to be cured with the mankind-old cyclic fascist-commie-fascist-commie cure of more CONTROLS, but with the new, 1776, United States cure of great, inspiring, rewarding, and ever higher GOALS and ever more FREEDOM to attain them?

I'll answer this question for myself, by myself, but I'd like to know your thoughts on the matter.

Second question: How? How the blue-blazes can a hospitalization insurance policy be put on the market, that would pay for lengthy hospitalization? If you insure a group, frequently a single injury will wipe out the premium that was paid for the whole group. From that time on, you are covering any subsequent injuries that may occur in that group, with money gained from premiums paid by other groups--or by other people, for entirely different lines of insurance. A kid's playground in New Jersey was insured early last year. The first day the playground opened, a boy broke his leg. The doctor's bill was more than the entire season's premium, yet the protection lasted for the rest of the year and paid for several other injuries.

Or, let's look at this way. The only money that comes into an insurance company is the money that people pay as premiums, plus the relatively small amount that can be gained by very careful investments of a certain part of those premiums. Some of this money is spent on administrative costs; a little goes to the stockholders; some goes into a legally required reserve. The rest goes to pay loses [sic].

The common practice is that if over 50% of the premium for a line (a _type_ of policy) is spent on losses, the rate is raised or the conditions of the policy restricted. If only 30% of the premium is being spent on losses, however, the premium is lowered or the conditions of the line broadened. 50% over losses might seem like a hell of a large margin of profit, but when you consider that in some companies it costs an average $2. (sometimes more) to process every slip of paper concerning policies that comes into the company--and many of these slips mean money going out to an assured--that grand profit soon starts looking very meager indeed.

I would say that on the average, the insurance men rank among the most moral and civic minded men in the country, and would not be associated with [illegible word]

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They recognise the moral crime of cancelling a policy when a person becomes chronically ill, but they further recognise the yet greater moral crime of charging a premium that could cover chronic illness, and by so doing, completely removing accident and health insurance from the financial reach of the many people who can now receive at least some benefit from it.

[BLACKED OUT] if you or anyone else can find a means of providing broad health coverage at a premium rate that people can afford--just mention it in dulcet tones around an insurance company. The rigorous competition that exists between these companies will have them all providing it within a year.

The insurance companies are in the same position as the Red Cross. They provide a tremendous and frequently inspired service for our nation, but they are big, and thus a target, and a few missfits [sic] make them appear fair game for anyone wanting to take potshots. But what's the matter with a few potshots--except--the unprotected lives, homes, and health of those who pay attention to them.

I'm not going to sign this letter for the simple reason that I can't see how my signature could do anyone any good, and I can see how it might do me a lot of harm.

My best regards, and respect to you, sir. May the need to avoid signing letters, soon become a vague and amusing memory.

P.S. One of the greatest rewards of my boost by Dianetics, is the pleasure I can now get from reading [BLACKED OUT] column. That guy used to scare hell out of me; I could sick simply by reading a few paragraphs of his writing. Now, although I darned frequently disagree with him, I get an invariable lift and a yak from the vigour with which he expresses his point of view. And also find a wealth of sense in his writing, that I never before suspected to exist.

You, even while I was a commy, I could read. I thought, however, that you were a sadly warped and treacherous sort of soul.


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