UnRael!
By Susan Palmer
Writing in these pages three years ago, I described the appearance of Rael,
founder-prophet of the world’s largest UFO religion, before the U.S Senate’s
human cloning subcommittee in March 2000 as the “apotheosis” of the Raelians’
30-year arm-wrestling match with the news media. I was wrong. The
annunciation of Baby Eve as the world’s first human clone was the true
apotheosis.
The story broke during the news dead zone between
Christmas and New Year’s. By the time it wound down four weeks later, a host
of journalists were left with the feeling they had been hoodwinked by
Brigitte Boisselier, Ph.D., Raelian Bishop and CEO of Clonaid, the private
company alleged to have perpetrated the deed.
“Cloning a Bit Fishy” ran the Montreal Gazette
headline January 8. “But oh, baby,” wrote reporter Lisa Fitterman, “what a
public-relations coup it was—if only for a few shining moments.”
The kick-off was a December 27 press conference at the
Holiday Inn in Hollywood, Florida. “She is born,” Boisselier declared. “She
is fine. We call her Eve.” When one of the reporters started to interrupt,
she said, “Let me speak. This is my day.”
“Perhaps mistaking the venue for the other Hollywood,”
wrote the Toronto Globe and Mail’s Jacques Goddard, “she launched
into an Oscar-style acceptance speech.”
Miraculous babes are, of course, nothing new in new
religious movements. Prophets have regularly expected infant Adams and Eves
to usher in a Golden Age. Joanna Southcott, the English prophetess of the
1770s, announced at age 64 she would bear a son named Shiloh who would rule
over the new age—until her false pregnancy subsided. The Theosophists had
their boy avatar, Krishnamurti; the Solar Temple, their “cosmic child”
Emmanuelle.
In the Raelians’ apocalyptic drama, Baby Eve is
supposed to be proof of humanity’s extraterrestrial origins and a signal
that we earthlings ourselves are undergoing “elohimization”—maturation into
alien Creators. But what makes the Raelians unique is their use of the news
media to make known their prophesied miracle child. Like the Beast of the
Apocalypse, the media play ball.
“The tabloids have landed,” wrote the Gazette’s
Gavin Taylor December 29, describing the instant infestation of Quebec by
less-than-respectable global media eager to sample the “heady mix of weird
science, loony religion, and kinky sex.” The Cloned Baby tale appeared on
the front page of newspapers around the world and dominated magazines and
news shows.
Clonaid’s fireworks display was designed to last.
Boisselier claimed on BBC TV’s “Breakfast with Frost” that three more cloned
babies would be born by late January or early February.
Worldwide notoriety, at least, the Raelians achieved.
News reports referred to them as “cloneheads” and “nutbars.” Their deeply
felt religious beliefs were described as “bizarre,” “kinky,” and “wacky.” At
the same time, journalists kowtowed to Rael, to the extent of calling him
“Your Holiness,” as he insisted. Boisselier was flattered, photographed, and
feted with expensive lunches and makeup crews—and insulted the next day in
print. And everyone went home happy.
“There are plenty of reasons for being sceptical about
[her] claims,” Alasdair Palmer wrote in the Gazette December 30. “One
is she is a member of a stupefyingly stupid sect, whose founder claims to
have been abducted by aliens. It is a truly awful possibility that a giant
leap forward in mankind’s technological history.…should be achieved by a
sect of evident nutters who believe in alien abduction.”
“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” said Keith
Oberman in a posting on Poynteronline’s Romanesko media news service. “A
woman whose hair is streaked orange, white, silver and gray and who admits
she belongs to a cult founded by a guy who says aliens…created human
life…comes out and says she has succeeded in cloning people—and some of us
believe her?”
These doubts were reinforced when the sometime
journalist who had agreed to oversee tests to verify the claim allowed as
how the whole project might be “an elaborate hoax.” Writing in the New
York Times January 7, Kenneth Chang described Dr. Michael Guillen,
former science editor of ABC News, as being frustrated by his postponed
access to the alleged clone. The whole purpose, Guillen suggested, was “to
bring publicity to the Raelian Movement.”
Once it became clear that no proof would be
forthcoming, journalists unleashed a flood of horror and condemnation in
quotes from bio-ethicists and religious leaders. Portraits of Raelians as
mad scientists and fanatical fascists experimenting on humans in secret labs
and messing around with defective embryos and body parts à la
Frankenstein proliferated in the tabloids.
Anticultists stepped onto the stage. “The first quality
of a Raelian is utter submission to Rael!” an ex-Raelian Montrealer who had
changed his name to “Exrael” told La Presse of Montreal. Florida
Today compared the Raelians to the mass-suicide UFO cult, Heavens’ Gate.
Calls for greater government control over “dangerous cults” (which in Canada
would result in more funding for anti-cult organizations) were issued by the
likes of Calgary Herald columnist Diane Francis (“Immigration
officers should have a few questions for Quebec cult”).
Then an unexpected twist bent the story line. On
January 12, the Miami Herald reported that a Florida lawyer had filed
a petition seeking a guardian for “Eve” and asking that her unknown parents
be summoned before a Florida court for a hearing ten days hence. Whereupon
Clonaid’s vice-president, Thomas Kaenzig, disclosed in a telephone interview
that Clonaid company was not incorporated anywhere, had no board of
directors, and kept him “largely ignorant about its operations.” He
personally did not know the location of “Eve.”
That went for Rael too. As he told the Washington
Post’s Daneen Brown January 17, “I don’t know where and I don’t know
with what person…. I don’t know the family, I don’t know where is the
laboratory. I don’t know the scientists. I know absolutely nothing. I just
learned, like everybody else, when she announced the birth of the child.”
On January 23, Boisselier held a press conference in
Toronto to announce that the American parents of the still untested baby
“Eve” planned to vanish forever. Admitting she had never seen Eve up close,
only on videotape, she announced, “I will not have contact with them
anymore.” As Graem Smith of the Globe and Mail put it, “The president
of a firm that doesn’t formally exist said…she still can’t prove her ‘human
cloning company’ has cloned any humans.”
By then, so far as the media were concerned, there was
no doubt that Rael and Boisselier had joined the ranks of faith-healing and
snake-oil-peddling charlatans. And their subsequent behavior did nothing to
change minds. On January 28, Simon Boivin of Le Soleil had Rael
whispering to Boisselier in an off-camera moment during the Pierre
Maisonneuve talk show, “It is going well…too bad they didn’t put in that
last phrase. We have to make the families cry, the women, the mothers, they
will take out their handkerchiefs.” For a prophet who rejects marriage and
devalues parenthood, it didn’t look too good.
And what has the reaction of rank-and-file Raelians
been to all the furor?
On Sunday, January 19, I bumped into a group of them at
Le Commensal, Montreal’s top vegetarian restaurant. They pecked my cheeks
enthusiastically, chiding me for not attending the third-Sunday-of-the-month
gathering at Theatre Gesu where Rael had just dropped in to make two
momentous announcements.
First, he claimed his mission was “fifty-percent
complete.” He was referring to his mandate from the Elohim to “spread the
message” of humanity’s true origins. “It’s done. I’ve informed the entire
planet of my message.”
The Baby Eve affair was thus an unqualified success.
The media had played right into his hands, assisting the “Last and Fastest
Prophet” to bring about a successful denouement to the Age of Apocalypse.
Moreover, Rael’s Pope-baiting efforts had for the first
time elicited a direct response from the Vatican. The Pope, “his sworn
enemy,” had reacted to “Eve” by denouncing cloning as “an expression of a
brutal mentality lacking all ethical and human consideration.” Since Rael’s
millenarian agenda requires that he depose the Pope and close down the
Vatican, this was an auspicious moment pleasing to the extraterrestrials.
“This event saved me 20 years of work!” Rael exclaimed, triumphantly.
His second announcement was to appoint Boisselier as
his successor. Expressing delight at her efficient means of spreading the
message, he said, “If Brigitte has done it, she has achieved a wonderful
thing and should receive the Nobel prize. If it isn’t true, it’s the most
beautiful scientific joke…but in any case, whether true or false, it has
allowed us to communicate our message to the whole planet. I want to thank
Brigitte eternally for it, and when I say eternally, I mean it.”
The Calgary Sun, which reported the story
January 20 under the headline, “Raelian Founder Admits Report of Cloning
Could be False,” overstated the case but not by much.
My Raelian friends boasted that membership had
skyrocketed from 50,000 to 60,000 since “Eve.” Then I asked about Clonaid.
“Clonaid is not a company,” said Michel Beluet,
the former director of the Raelians’ theme park, UFOland. “It was never
a company. It is a project! It has a web site—but the real name of
the company behind the web site called ‘Clonaid’ may never be known.”
Baby Eve was not, Beluet claimed, the first human
clone. “There are cloned children right now crawling all over the earth—sure
there are!” he said. “In a few years they will come forth and be known.”
“We’re having so much fun right now,” said an Assistant
Guide, or priest. “We are doing our diffusion on the street, and when pretty
girls stop on the street to talk to us, I lean forward and say, ‘Can I have
one of your hairs, please?’ and hold up a plastic bag. They freak out—they
think we can clone them on the spot!”
The Raelians all
burst out laughing. |