July 17. On this date in 2003, David Kelly, a Bahá’í, was found dead from an apparent suicide, two days after appearing before a parliamentary Foreign Affairs Select Committee. An authority on biological warfare employed by the British Ministry of Defence, and formerly a weapons inspector with the United Nations Special Commission
in Iraq, David Kelly was a prime source for the false information of
Iraq's purported possession of weapons of mass destruction in the
lead-up to the invasion of Iraq in 2003.
On August 11, 2003, the Independent carried an article about David Kelly, noting "In October 2002, Dr Kelly
gave a slide show and lecture about his experiences as a weapons
inspector in Iraq to a small almost private gathering of the Baha'i
faith, which aims to unite the teachings of all the prophets. Dr Kelly
had converted to the religion three years earlier, while in New York on
attachment to the UN. When he returned to England he became treasurer
of the small but influential Baha'i branch in Abingdon near his home. Roger Kingdon,
a member, recalls: 'He had no doubt that [the Iraqis] had biological
and chemical weapons. It was clear that David Kelly was largely happy
with the material in the dossier.'"
From The Times article titled "Faith, peace and tolerance in Monterey", dated September 3, 2003...
September 3
By Chris Ayres and James Bone
Four
years ago David Kelly made a personal odyssey to the Californian resort
of Monterey. He was there, not to visit its military installations or
its tourist boutiques but to convert to the Baha'i faith
IT
WOULD SEEM an unlikely place to find peace for the soul. Monterey, an
affluent city on California's central coast, about an hour's flight
north from Los Angeles, is known more for its proximity to military
installations and its role as retirement city of choice for generals and
one-time spies than for any sense of spirituality. But it was to this
beautiful seaside resort, often shrouded in mist because of the hot air
from the Californian deserts hitting the cold Pacific, that David Kelly
came four years ago to make a declaration of faith to the Baha'i
religion.
On September 25, 1999,
he would have turned his back on the postcard landscape of sand dunes
and gleaming ocean that marks California's Pacific Coast Highway, and
taken the incongruously named Bonny Doon Road up through the towns of
Loch Lomond and Bracken Brae, until he came to the first signpost to the
Bosch Baha'i School, one of only four such establishments in the United
States and an inspiration for the British scientist and biological
weapons expert. He was possibly accompanied by his friend and spiritual
mentor Mai Pederson, the American woman thought to be responsible for
introducing him to the Baha'i faith.
Monterey,
with its proximity to the Defence Language Institute and other military
installations, was a natural destination for Dr Kelly; the Monterey
Institute of International Studies, which has its own Centre for
Nonproliferation Studies, the largest non-governmental organisation in
the world devoted to curbing the spread of weapons of mass destruction,
would have been an essential place for him to visit. The centre is
thought to have one of the largest databases of information on Saddam
Hussein's regime in the world. The city itself, an old fishing town
turned into a tourist mecca, with chi-chi boutiques and restaurants that
line the seafront — a kind of Covent Garden-on-sea — is similar to
other California coastal towns such as Carmel and Santa Barbara that
look out over the rolling surf of the Pacific. But it is thought that Dr
Kelly visited Monterey not for the expertise offered by the city's
scientists, but for the consolation of the soul that he would find in
the Baha'i school high above the city, overlooking the California
coastline.
After reaching the
series of wooden cabins that make up the school's campus — passing,
first, the four garden gnomes, dressed in 19th-century peasant outfits,
that wave cheerfully to those curious or devoted enough to go further —
he made his simple declaration of faith. According to Joanne McClure, a
youthful 66-year-old who pays $65 (£41) a night for room and board at
the school, to an untrained eye this would have seemed an almost casual
affair, the kind of non-ritual ritual beloved of the Baha'is, who pride
themselves on having no formal initiation ceremony, sacrament or clergy.
"First we would make sure initiates know who Baha'ullah is — the
founder of the faith — and that they really knew what they were doing,"
says McClure. "Then they would sign a card saying that there are certain
laws they need to obey." These include abstaining from drink, drugs and
gambling; supporting the institution of marriage; believing that God
created the universe; and encouraging the end of racial, class, and
religious prejudices. After Dr Kelly had signed the card, it would have
been sent to the Baha'i national headquarters in Wilmette, Illinois,
where the new believer would be put on the mailing list for the American
magazine The Baha'is. From then on, Dr Kelly would have been encouraged
to attend feasts held every 19 days, which involve prayer-chants,
administrative discussions with local spiritual assemblies, and general
socialising.
Dr Kelly would have
been attracted to the peacefulness and tolerance of the Baha'is, who
believe that all religions are essentially valid. As McClure says: "I
could never understand why God was going to send all these people to
Hell just because they didn't believe in the same things." As a
scientist, perhaps seeking spiritual succour within an intellectual
framework, he would also have been attracted to the faith's openness to
modernity and its lack of fundamentalist dogma.
Throughout
1999 Dr Kelly travelled to New York for six or seven two-week trips to
work with fellow experts at UN headquarters, and he visited at least
twice more for the regular six-monthly meetings of the UN Special
Commission's (UNSCOM's) college of commissioners. During this year, he
often appeared at Baha'i meetings on the other side of the continent in
Monterey, at the group's traditional 19th-day feasts. Pederson, who was
studying at the Defence Language Institute, a heavily guarded military
facility that taught American soldiers how to speak Japanese during the
Second World War, was also at the feasts. The two had met and become
friends when she served under the scientist on a UN mission to Iraq in
1998, the last inspection before the withdrawal of UN inspectors.
John
VonBerg, whose wife was the secretary of the local Baha'is' spiritual
assembly at the time, says: "He has been to my home several times. We
had special events on holy days, representing various things. His
principles were so close to those of the Baha'i faith."
The last time Dr Kelly visited, VonBerg remembers the Baha'i group going to gaze out over the bay.
Noreen
Steinmetz, a friend of Dr Kelly and Pederson, recalls: "He would pass
through here every once in a while and we would have the opportunity to
sit down with him and go on hikes and chat. I met him through Mai
Pederson." She adds that Dr Kelly always arrived at meetings by himself,
and other Baha'is assumed that he was working at the nearby Monterey
Institute, where several of his UN colleagues worked. But scientist
friends at the centre say he never visited them there.
A
glance around the Bosch Baha'i School's bookshop reveals some possible
sources of tension for Dr Kelly. Several tomes focus on the divine
importance of the UN, which was eventually ignored by the United States
and Britain after it refused to support a military campaign to remove
the Iraqi regime.
With that in mind, it is hard to see how Dr Kelly could ever have supported an Iraq war without UN approval.
Even
more ominous, however, is a tract entitled Political Non-Involvement
and Obedience to Government, compiled by Peter J. Khan. The book spells
out the Baha'is' belief that they should not become involved in any form
of politics, because politics can create divisions that could destroy
the Baha'i community.
As part of
this argument, Baha'is believe that they should support their
government, whether just or unjust (there are, however, exceptions). On
page 28, Khan poses a question that Dr Kelly himself could have asked:
What should we do when controversies arise as a result of government
policies?
The answer, provided by
the Guardian of the Baha'i faith, the late Shoghi Effendi Rabbani, is
this: "In such controversies they should assign no blame, take no side,
further no design, and identify themselves with no system prejudicial to
the best interests of that worldwide fellowship which it is their aim
to guard and foster."
Khan's book
makes it clear that any Baha'i who does not follow this advice is
ultimately weakening the Baha'i religion. Given this official position
from the Guardian, it is not hard to imagine Dr Kelly's horror when he
was named as the alleged source of a story blaming Britain's decision to
go to war on a press secretary who "sexed up" intelligence reports.
But
would the Guardian have condoned suicide? "Let's just say," says Mrs
VonBerg, "that it would not follow the teachings of the Baha'i faith."
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