To say Netflix’s latest documentary is crazy is an understatement. It includes baby cloning and UFOs. That’s not even the half of it.
Raël: The Alien Prophet is a must-see for fans of Tiger King, Last Stop Larrimah, and Gunther’s Millions, about a dog obtaining a fortune.
In 1992, Raël was called on a TV broadcast to discuss Raëlism, a religion formed by him.
But this wasn’t just regular religious movement; it was a UFO group and ‘dangerous’ cult that claimed to have cloned a baby and had been accused of money extortion and, most horrifically, pushing for child sex assault.
Raël, 77, refuted all charges against his movement, which he created in the 1970s, and insisted that only adults were admitted in Raëlism.
However, shortly after his appearance on the TV programme – a French chat show called Ciel, mon mardi! [‘Heavens, it’s my Tuesday!’] – which put the child abuse claims to him, two adult male members of the cult were tried in court for raping an 11-year-old girl.
The child said that her mother, who was also in the cult, did nothing to stop the guys from raping her.
But who was Raël and how did he manage to set up such a controversial movement?
Raël, born Claude Vorilhon, was a journalist and singer before founding Raëlism. He claimed to have met aliens on an interstellar ship near a volcano crater in France.
These extraterrestrial entities, whom he identified as the Elohim, informed him that all life on Earth was produced by DNA manipulation, and that it was his life’s duty to communicate their word to mankind.
Raël claimed to have been anointed as a prophet by the Elohim and was sent to another planet where he met Buddha, Moses, Muhammed, and Jesus, whom he claimed to be his brother.
While the group was fraught with controversy, it was his appearance on Ciel, mon mardi! that generated widespread uproar.
The cult leader regarded the TV programme as a way to promote Raëlism and recruit new members, often appearing on national television, much to the amusement of viewers.
He identified as a prophet, with long wavy brown hair and all-white garments. However, he did not foresee Christophe Dechavanne’s line of questioning.
In archive footage obtained in the Netflix documentary Raël: The Alien Prophet, Dechavanne asked whether Raëlism suggested that its members ‘have new kinds of relationships with children.’
Raël responded: ‘Absolutely. In our movement, we are fanatical about freedom. We do as we like.’
Dechavanne read an item from Raël’s magazine, where a cult member encouraged parents to ‘caress’ their children.
The shocking article said: ‘I must have been three or four. Granny was making tea. Grandpa in his nightshirt took me to bed.
‘He got in, took my hand, showed me my index finger, folded the rest, and moved it to my genitals, saying that it could feel good.
‘So, parents, caress your children, let them do the same to you.’
When Dechavanne read out the horrific piece, Raël responded: ‘Yes, well these are adults testifying about their experience, expressing their ideas. That’s someone’s view. We support free speech.’
After an outraged Dechavanne said ‘you can’t touch kids’, Raël said he agreed and insisted there were no children allowed in Raëlism.
Understandably, his words generated widespread indignation and, according to former French magistrate Georges Fenech, escalated into a ‘legal situation’ that culminated in court suits.
‘We started to see trials where Raëlian officials were sued and convicted of sexual offences and the corruption of minors,’ he told the documentary makers.
In 1997, newspaper Le Devoir published a letter from Raël, who stated that the cult has always rejected paedophilia and urged respect for laws that justly restrict acts that are always the fault of disordered persons.
He claimed to have been a victim of a plot targeting his movement and chose to transfer the Raëlian commune, known as Eden, from the French countryside to Quebec to escape the rising hostility.
The cult’s controversy did not, however, stop with the relocation to Canada.
Raël established UFOland, a ‘information’ and recruiting facility for the cult, which attracts tourists from all over the world. There, he also declared ambitions to clone people at Clonaid laboratory.
The construction of the lab sparked widespread criticism, with many claiming that it was interfering with nature and an unethical attempt to play God.
Brigitte Boisselier, the cult’s science director who formerly worked as a research scientist, said she had cloned the first human infant, a female known solely as Eve in a deliberate biblical connection.
However, the cult refused to identify the kid or her parents, as well as share their specific scientific procedure of cloning.
Later, an American lawyer took them to court over concerns about the baby’s welfare and to determine the kid’s legal guardians, but the case was dismissed when Boisselier disclosed that the infant was born in Israel and so fell outside of US jurisdiction.
The child’s existence is largely debatable. Damien Marsic, a former Raëlian who worked with Boisselier at Clonaid for 33 years, stated that the cult never cloned humans.
‘The announcement of the cloned baby was a descent into hell for me because I’ll tell you the truth: having experienced it from the inside, I can assure you it’s not true,’ he told documentary producers.
Meanwhile, Boisselier claims that Eve is still alive and well. In the documentary, she stated that she occasionally but rarely speaks with Eve’s parents through a third party and that she is doing well. She stated that exposing her identify now had ‘no purpose’.
Cloning wasn’t the only Raëlian technique that came under question. Members of the communes in France and Quebec were encouraged to be nude and urged to examine their bodies, particularly their anuses, using a mirror.
Canadian journalist Brigitte McCann infiltrated the group and participated in the practice. In the documentary, she stated that the anus exams made her quite uncomfortable.
‘We were told we must undress. You also had to touch your genitals. He asked you to. To smell it. I felt very uneasy,’ she recalled.
Raël also faced accusations of mistreating women. In the cult, certain young ladies were identified by a pink feather. This meant they could only have sex with their leader and could never refuse his requests for sex.
‘These women were sexual slaves. One of the conditions was that they couldn’t say no if he asked them for sex,’ McCann said.
Despite the controversy, the cult still exists today, with Raël currently living in Japan and preaching Raëlism.
For former member Marsic, Raël robbed 33 years of his life.
‘It’s hard to admit,’ he said. ‘It’s as if at the age of 51 I had woken up from a 33-year hypnosis. What have I done with my life? What have I done with these 33 years?’
‘What am I going to do now?’
Raël: The Alien Prophet will be available to stream on Netflix from February 7.