As a pre-eminent First Amendment attorney who has represented the Church of Scientology for four decades, Eric Lieberman knows firsthand the absurdity of Ronald T. Miscavige’s claims to know anything about his son David Miscavige’s ascent to ecclesiastical leader or the global religious issues he deals with every day.
As Mr. Lieberman noted to St. Martin’s Press in advance of the publication of the book, Ronald was selling pots and pans in Upper Darby, PA, when his son was thousands of miles away, first serving at the side of founder L. Ron Hubbard, then leading the religion as Mr. Hubbard intended after his passing.
A longtime friend of Mr. David Miscavige, Mr. Lieberman also knows that Ronald’s entry into the Church’s religious order was conditioned on his receiving his son’s help to save him from a dire future in prison after he was arrested for attempted rape outside of Philadelphia in 1985. Due to his son’s efforts in obtaining top lawyers, the charges were dropped. As promised, Ronald entered the Sea Organization because it was obvious he needed to be kept in check and couldn’t be trusted to stay out of trouble.
Mr. Lieberman also knows that Ronald’s entry into the Church’s religious order was conditioned on his receiving his son’s help to save him from a dire future in prison.
Perhaps the smoking gun that exposes trumpet player Ronald’s newfound expertise he claims in his book about ecclesiastical matters is his “Day Timers,” Ron’s daily diaries and work records.
They show in excruciating detail his day-to-day activities for years, none of which even remotely involve the things he opines about as an “expert” in his book. Instead, they reveal an ordinary life of a musician who drives to doctor appointments, goes shopping and takes days off for excursions and vacations—no references whatsoever to the things he claims in his book to have direct knowledge of.
In fact, it’s telling that even Ronald now admits in his book and in media interviews that he never actually witnessed numerous things he claims to know about in his “memoir,” but that he sourced them to other anonymous people he claims to have spoken with. Phrases like “people have told me…” and “though I have been told…” are the refrains of this “memoir.” All of it hearsay from the same handful of disgruntled obsessed anti-Scientology zealots.
In other words, what Ronald knows about David Miscavige’s ecclesiastical duties and ascent in the Church is what he “cut and pasted” from the fringes of the Internet. That’s no memoir, but an effort to dupe the public into spending its money on a fraudulent book.
What these Day Timers show is that in his “memoir” he spends virtually no time mentioning what he actually did for 27 years—play in the Church band.
What these Day Timers show is that in his “memoir” he spends virtually no time mentioning what he actually did for 27 years—play in the Church band. While his book is replete with hearsay, Ronald makes no mention of the dozen bandmates he worked and played with for over two decades. In other words, his entire “memoir,” for all intents and purposes, spends a single page on what he did for more than one-third of his life. That’s because what Ronald really did was play music in a band. But that wouldn’t have fit into his false narrative that he was “abused” by living a life he never would have had were it not for David’s kindness and the care given him by his fellow band members. In fact, those daily diaries show he actually lived a peaceful, mundane life, took time off for vacations, drove off to go shopping, indulged in his passion to work out and even spent time in the property’s gourmet kitchen leisurely baking pizzelles.
Here is a random sampling of a few days of these daily diaries revealing the ordinary life of Sea Organization member and musician Ronald T. Miscavige:
