The Coming Plutocracy

Spending nights on his terrace, gazing at the inky skies, Jay Trivedi would be haunted by “starry intuitions”. In his growing-up years, says the BPO project supervisor from Mumbai, he’d wondered how man came to be on Earth, but found no answer. Darwin’s theory of evolution made no sense  to him. “But,” he says, “I felt a con­nection to satellites and planets.” Three years ago, in his final college year, he was moved by these lines from Star Wars: “You refer to us as ‘aliens’, the pri­­ncess calls us non-human. Why are we def­i­ned by you and in comparison to you?”

Those stirrings, says Trivedi, were the first of what led him to submit to a belief in aliens arriving on Earth to teach humans, the most evolved of creatures, how to live forever through cloning and mind transfer. Part comicbook sci-fi, part New Age religio-mysticism, Tri­vedi’s faith goes by the name of Raelism. Pop superstar Michael Jackson was an honorary Raelian guide. Hugh Hefner, founder of the Playboy enterprise, is an honorary priest. Raelians know exactly when the aliens will arrive in messianic glory with the gift of eternal life: when there are 1,44,000 true believers.

In Trivedi’s 21st century conversion story, true to the character of the hyperlinked age, revelation arrived via the internet­—wrapped albeit in ’70s zeitgeist. Surfing, he chanced upon a 400-page book called Intelligent Design, the bible of the international Raelian movement. It was founded in 1973 by Claude Vorilhon, a Frenchman who edited Auto Pop, a car-racing magazine. For all his doubts about evolution, Trivedi had no trouble believing what the book says.

Intelligent Design recounts Vorilhon’s encounter with a four-foot alien with long, dark hair, olive skin and almond eyes. The setting is Puy de Lassolas, a volcanic park in the heart of France, and an ET called Yahweh gets off a flying saucer and explains to Vorilhon the origins of mankind. He asks Vorilhon to build an embassy to help humans con­tact their creators, the Elohim. Vorilhon rec­h­ristens himself Rael (messenger, in Hebrew) and keeps in touch with the Elohim through a topknot that attracts extraterrestrial signals like an arial.

Since its inception, the Raelian movement has spread rapidly across Europe, Africa, US and Asia, and has about 98,000 followers worldwide. They hold sacred the belief that the Elohim created all earthly life-forms millions of years ago. And humans are a highly evolved species, similar to the Elohim in size, shape, intellectual power. When a critical mass of belief is attained, the Elohim would return to Earth and teach humans how to enjoy eternal life. Some 70 people from across India are registered Raelians. About 20,000 are interested candidates, yet to be baptised.

Bharat Panchal, a 61-year-old architect from Mumbai, recalls first contact with his new faith seven years ago. He’d met a Korean woman at Churchgate station. She was holding a copy of a book called The Message Given by Extra-Terrestrials. “I read the whole book overnight and couldn’t stop thinking how profound it was,” says the active Raelian. Borrowing symbolism and ritual common to many religions, the initiation (or baptism) involves “the transmission of the cellular plan”: the member’s DNA frequencies are connected to the mother computer of the Elohim—but not through a usb cable or Bluetooth. “We soak our hands in water so that there is better connectivity with the motherboard,” says Panchal, the seniormost in his group. “Then I place my right hand on the back of a member’s head, the left one on his forehead. I tell the Elohim this person has accepted them as creators. The frequency of the one to be initiated flows through me and reaches the computer, and if it’s received well, he bec­omes a Raelian.” The motherboard has the genetic information of all creatures on earth and the Elohim will use this to judge if a person who has reached the end of his life deserves to be reborn.

Raelians renounce matrimony, rituals, alcohol, nicotine and toxic substances. They seem to have a penchant for same-sex relationships, topless carnivals, free hugs and sensual pyjama parties. But in India, their practices are limited to sensual meditation and telepathic communication with the Elohim. According to Rajendra Jadhav, a 54-year-old Pune businessman, “When you listen to audio tapes during sensual meditation, your faculties become sharper. You can even hear your heartbeat and feel the flow of blood through your vessels.” It’s through meditation that Raelians want to end war and foster peace.

“The Elohim want to come down to Earth and teach our world leaders how to eschew conflict,” says Panchal. But this peace is possible only through ‘geniocracy’, not democracy. Raelians believe in a world where only those with a higher IQ deserve to rule over others.

Kanchanbala Gaekwad, a former educationist and Raelian, has translated texts like The Book Which Tells the Truth and The Extra-terrestrials Took Me to their Planet into Mara­thi. Against the countless portrayal of evil-genius villains in films and fiction, she believes that only true geniuses are immune to the hunger for power and can treat all their followers fairly.

Anup Prasad, a 30-year-old software engineer from Delhi, is the country head of the Raelian movement in India. He seems in no hurry to use India’s much-hyped demographic capital to swell the Raelian ranks and touch the 1,44,000 mark. “We are keen to recruit as many as possible,” he says, “but also wary of those who aren’t ready, or those who join just because it sounds sexy. During transmission, the Elohim will come to know everything and the signals would be made clear. In that case, we can’t induct that aspirant.” Prasad has even denied entry to some friends whom the romance and fantasy of Raelism have held in thrall.

The final biblical winnowing, anyhow, will let only a few pass. In preparation for that, the Raelians have plans for a memorial to ancestors and Vorilhon’s embassy. There will be an aseptic chamber, leading to a conference room for 21 people. The embassy will also have a launchpad for a spaceship. To realise the dream of official contact with the Elohim, Raelians donate one per cent of their annual earnings to the movement. They also hold open the possibility of moving to Mars. “Planet Red or Planet Earth, we’ll go wherever the Elohim tell us to go,” says Prasad, whose belief is immune to the taunts of friends. “My friends often call me an alien, someone who worships an unpalatable mix of science fiction and mythology.” Trivedi, too, had to face opposition from his family for deviating from religious texts. “Is there any concrete evidence that God created life?” he asks. “You’ve just got to have conviction in your beliefs.”

But Raelism too has its doubting Thomases. Dr Chittaranjan Narain Daf­tuar, a former professor and non-baptised believer, is one. His doubts relate only to the absence of Hindu gods in the Raelian narrative. “I don’t have doubts about the Elohim, but it’s strange that among the messengers sent to earth, there are no Hindu gods. Prophets like Moses, Jesus and Mohammed are mentioned. Also, if I’m a critic of my own religious beliefs, why should I believe everything the Elohim say? We need more convincing evidence.”

It’s an attitude Narendra Dabholkar, a rationalist who was gunned down last month in Pune for opposing superstition and blind faith, would have encouraged Raelians and pseudoscientific cultists to cultivate.

***

Rael-Hailer’s List