Age of Leo
Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.
The Age of Leo is the sixth yom. Land animals complete the terrestrial food web, then seven factional teams produce human beings in their own image — each race corresponding to a team — and the most talented team establishes the Garden of Eden in what is now Israel.
I. The Age Itself
The sixth age is the age of the mirror.
The Age of Leo runs from –11,010 to –8,850, a span of 2,160 years, following immediately upon the Age of Virgo. It is the age in which the creation program, after more than ten thousand years of sustained work, produces the creation it has been building toward from the beginning: beings made in the image of their makers. The text of Genesis marks this as the sixth day, and the biblical account treats it with a ceremony absent from the earlier days — the famous phrase na'aseh adam betzalmenu kidmutenu, "let us make man in our image, after our likeness," spoken by the plural subject to itself before the act is undertaken. The ceremony reflects the weight of what is about to happen. Every previous creation has been directed at the planet, at the biosphere, at the conditions under which life would sustain itself. This creation is directed at the makers themselves. The scientists are about to produce beings like themselves, and in doing so they are about to transform what the project means — for the humans they create, for the civilization on the home world, and for their own understanding of what they have been doing all along.
The age is mapped, in the Raëlian reading, to the remainder of Genesis 1, beginning at verse 24 and extending through the end of the chapter. The land animals appear first in the text, before humanity: Vayomer Elohim totze ha'aretz nefesh hayah le'minah, behemah va'remes ve'hayto eretz le'minah. "And Elohim said: Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind, cattle, and creeping thing, and beast of the earth after his kind." Then, after the land animals, the text introduces the plural self-address and the creation of humanity. Then the blessing. Then the comprehensive approval at the end of the day — vayar Elohim et kol asher asah ve'hineh tov me'od, "and Elohim saw everything that he had made, and, behold, it was very good" — with an intensifier that has appeared on no previous day. Day 6 is not merely approved. It is approved superlatively. Something important has been completed.
This chapter will walk Day 6 in the order the source presents it: the land animals first, then the human creation itself, then the specific circumstances of one particular team's work — the team that produced the Garden of Eden and the human beings whose story Genesis 2 and 3 will then continue. The Eden narrative does not conclude in Leo. It extends into the following age, the Age of Cancer, where the events of the expulsion, the birth of Cain and Abel, and the early post-Eden human history will unfold. Leo is the age of the creation. Cancer will be the age of its consequences.
II. The Land Animals
The creation of land animals precedes the creation of humanity within Day 6, and the source treats it with characteristic brevity: "After marine organisms and birds, the scientists created land animals on a planet where the vegetation had by now become magnificent. There was plenty of food for the herbivores. These were the first land animals which were created. Later they created carnivores to balance the herbivorous population. Here too, the species had to maintain equilibrium."
A reader might ask why the land animals come at this point in the sequence rather than in Virgo, alongside the fish and the birds and the dinosaurs. The answer is structural. The dinosaurs of Virgo were land animals in the strict sense — they walked the earth, they had four limbs, they breathed terrestrial air. But the dinosaurs were, on the source's account, a specific program pursued by specific factional teams, producing specific creatures whose ecological niche was dominance at large scale. The broader category of terrestrial animal life — the mammals, the smaller reptiles, the amphibians, the terrestrial invertebrates in their final elaboration — belongs to Leo. The Virgo dinosaurs occupied an ecological position that was, in certain respects, parallel to what mammals would later occupy in Leo. The later mammalian radiation, with its diversity of herbivorous forms supported by the now-magnificent vegetation and its complementary range of carnivorous forms, built out a terrestrial ecosystem that the dinosaurs had prefigured but not completed.
The Raëlian source is explicit that the mammalian program began with herbivores and was followed by carnivores, in the sequence that a modern ecologist would recognize as correct. Herbivores consume the primary producers — the plants — and their populations are regulated by plant availability. Carnivores consume the herbivores, and their populations are regulated by herbivore availability. A functioning food web requires both, but the herbivores have to be established first, because a carnivore population cannot establish itself in the absence of prey. The Elohim knew this. The sequence of creation reflects it. The age spent its earlier centuries establishing stable herbivore populations — the ancestral forms of what would become the ungulates, the rodents, the small browsing mammals that would later anchor the terrestrial food web — and its later centuries introducing the predators that would keep those populations in balance.
One detail from the source deserves specific mention. In a later passage, Yahweh tells Raël that the evolution of life forms on Earth reflects not a process of natural selection but a progression of design techniques: "We started by making very simple creations and then improved our techniques of environmental adaptation. This enabled us to make in turn fish, amphibians, mammals, birds, primates and finally man himself, who is just an improved model of the monkey to which we added what makes us essentially human." The sequence in this later passage — fish, amphibians, mammals, birds, primates, man — is ordered by the refinement of the underlying biological technique, not by strict ecological succession. Some of the "amphibians" and "mammals" in this sequence were produced during Virgo, some during Leo; the sequence describes the arc of the scientists' developing expertise rather than the strict chronological order of biological introductions. What matters for Leo specifically is that by the time the age arrived, the scientists had developed the techniques necessary to produce the most complex organisms they had yet attempted: first the primates, and then — using the primate body plan as a starting point — the humans.
III. From Primate to Human
This last detail is consequential and deserves its own treatment, because it shapes how the creation of humanity should be understood.
The source states that humans are "an improved model of the monkey to which we added what makes us essentially human." This is not a claim that humans evolved from monkeys through natural selection. It is a claim that the Elohim, in designing the human form, used primate biology as a starting template and then modified it — adding features, enhancing capacities, refining the body plan — to produce the beings they wanted. The humans were not built from scratch in the sense that the first grass of Scorpio was built from scratch. They were built by modification of an existing design, a design the scientists had themselves previously produced: the primate form that they had developed earlier in the creation sequence as one of the advanced mammalian outputs of the ongoing biological program.
This method is recognizable. It is, in principle, the method our own civilization is beginning to develop in the early twenty-first century, under the name of genetic engineering. Rather than designing organisms from first principles, modern genetic work almost always proceeds by modifying the existing genome of an organism that already does most of what the designer wants, and then adjusting specific features to achieve the desired outcome. Crops are modified by altering genes in existing plant species, not by building new plants from scratch. Medical research aimed at producing specific cellular behaviors proceeds by modifying existing cell lines, not by synthesizing cells de novo. The Elohim's approach to producing humans — starting from the primate body plan and modifying it — is the approach that any mature bioengineering civilization would be expected to use for a project of that complexity, because building a human from scratch at the cellular level, given the combinatorial complexity of human biology, would be an enormously more difficult task than adapting an existing template that already worked.
What did the Elohim add? The source does not give a complete specification, but the general direction is clear. They added what makes humans "essentially human" — the cognitive faculties, the linguistic capacity, the capacity for abstract thought and self-reflection, the dexterity of the hand, the particular configuration of the vocal apparatus that permits articulated speech, the specific neural architecture that supports the integration of sensory information into a sustained sense of self. These additions, whatever their specific biological implementation, are what separate the human from the primate in both form and behavior. A modern geneticist looking at the human genome against the genomes of our closest primate relatives would describe these additions as the set of genetic differences that distinguish the two. The Elohim, on the source's account, engineered those differences deliberately, taking the primate they had previously designed and turning it into something more.
One implication of this method is worth noting because it bears on a specific feature of the fossil record. The source says: "You can find the skulls of prehistoric men who were the first human prototypes. These were replaced each time by others more evolved." The source is describing what modern paleoanthropology calls the hominid fossil record — the long sequence of bipedal, increasingly large-brained primate species that the fossil evidence documents, culminating in anatomically modern Homo sapiens. These prior hominid species, on the Raëlian reading, are not our evolutionary ancestors in the Darwinian sense. They are our design iterations — the previous attempts by the Elohim teams to produce a satisfactory human form, each one closer than the last, each one eventually replaced by a better version. Homo habilis, Homo erectus, Homo heidelbergensis, the Neanderthals, the Denisovans: all of these, in this reading, are not species that gave rise to us but prior drafts that the scientists refined until they were satisfied with the result. The final version — our version — was the one that the teams eventually agreed was ready.
This reading is consistent with a feature of the fossil record that mainstream paleoanthropology has sometimes found difficult to explain: the apparent replacement of earlier hominid populations by later ones, often with limited evidence of direct lineal descent. The Neanderthals disappeared after Homo sapiens spread into Europe. The Denisovans disappeared. Earlier hominid forms disappeared before them. On the orthodox evolutionary reading, these replacements are explained variously by competition, climate, interbreeding, and contingent population dynamics. On the Raëlian reading, they are explained more simply: earlier drafts were phased out as later drafts proved more successful, a pattern of replacement that any ongoing design program would produce as a matter of course.
IV. The Factional Teams and the Seven Races
The human creation, like every biological creation since Scorpio, was conducted by multiple factional teams working in parallel.
The source is explicit on this point: "Each team set to work, and very soon we were able to compare our creations... It is easy to work out how many teams of creators did this — each race on Earth corresponds to a team of creators." In a later passage, the source specifies the number: "As on Earth there are different races and cultures. Our provinces were created and based on those races and cultures, while respecting the freedom and independence of each one." And elsewhere, the number of provinces on the home world is given as seven. Seven teams. Seven races. Seven provinces on the home world, each with its own distinct heritage, each with its own deployed team, each producing humans in its own image — which is to say, in the image of the particular subset of the Elohim civilization to which that team belonged.
This claim has been, in various ways, the most controversial element of the Raëlian cosmology for readers encountering it for the first time. The association of human races with distinct creators is the kind of claim that can be misread as an endorsement of racial hierarchy, and the Raëlian source is aware of this possibility. The source is clear that the races are not hierarchical in any moral sense; they are different outputs of different factional teams, each reflecting the aesthetic and scientific traditions of its originating constituency on the home world, each equally valid as a human form, each representing one of the seven provinces whose diversity the creators preserved rather than erased. The analogy the source itself offers is apt: the races of humanity are the biological signature of the factional diversity of the creators, in the same way that different regional traditions of art or music reflect the cultural diversity of the societies that produce them. One form is not better than another. They are different, because they were produced by different teams, and the teams were different because they came from different places on the home world.
The geographic distribution of the teams on the supercontinent corresponded, on the source's account, to the geographic origins of the later human populations. Each team was based in a specific region of the single landmass, and each team produced its humans in that region. When the supercontinent later broke up — an event this corpus will address in its proper place — the geographic separations between the human populations became the continental and oceanic barriers that would, for most of subsequent human history, keep the different races distinct. But at the time of their creation, in the Age of Leo, the seven teams were working in relative proximity on a single landmass, producing seven populations of humans whose differences were already visible but whose geographic separation had not yet been enforced by plate tectonics.
One implication of this structure worth registering: if each human race corresponds to a creator team, then each race preserves, in its biological heritage, the distinct traditions of a specific faction of the home civilization. The particular cognitive strengths of one population, the particular aesthetic traditions of another, the particular physical capacities of a third — all of these, on the Raëlian reading, reflect the design preferences of the team that produced that population. Human diversity, read this way, is not merely a product of environmental adaptation operating over evolutionary time on a common ancestral stock. It is a preserved diversity, one that the creators themselves intended to maintain, because it reflected their own civilization's internal diversity and the value they placed on it.
V. The Date and the Evidence
The source specifies the timing of the human creation with unusual precision. In one of the most often-cited numerical claims in the Raëlian material, the dating is given through the Book of Revelation's "number of the beast" — 666 — interpreted as the number of generations descended from the first created humans. If the generation born in 1945 was the 666th since the first humans, and if a generation is reckoned at twenty years, then the first humans were created approximately 13,320 years before 1945 — that is, around 11,375 BC. This places the creation of the first humans squarely within the middle centuries of the Age of Leo, which runs from –11,010 to –8,850. The dating is internally consistent.
What is remarkable is that this date — approximately 13,000 years before the present — has, in the decades since the Raëlian source was dictated to Raël in the 1970s, received support from modern genetics. The study of genetic variation across human populations, conducted through techniques that did not exist when the source was written, has repeatedly pointed to a relatively recent common genetic origin for the major human groups. One frequently cited finding, from research conducted by Japanese geneticists, traced the gene pools of the current human races to a common base dating back approximately 13,000 years — a figure that corresponds, with remarkable precision, to the timing implied by the Raëlian source's own independent numerical reasoning.
This convergence is not a proof. It does not establish that the Raëlian source is correct about what happened. It establishes only that the source's specific numerical claim about when humans were first produced on this planet is consistent with, and indeed is predicted by, the kind of date that modern genetic techniques have independently arrived at. The source, dictated in the 1970s when population-genetics dating methods were in their early development, could not have been constructed to match findings that had not yet been made. The match therefore deserves attention — not as a vindication, but as another example of the pattern that has recurred throughout this corpus: the Raëlian source keeps turning out to make specific claims that align, in ways that are difficult to explain by coincidence, with what independent scientific investigation discovers when it addresses the same questions.
A methodological note is worth adding here. Mainstream paleoanthropology dates the origin of anatomically modern Homo sapiens to approximately 300,000 years ago, based on fossil evidence from North and East Africa. This is not the same question as the question of when the current human gene pool originated, which is a narrower claim about the common ancestor of the modern populations rather than about the first appearance of the anatomically modern form. A 13,000-year common gene pool is consistent with a much older first appearance of the species, provided that the earlier populations were replaced, reduced to a small founding population, or otherwise bottlenecked in ways that concentrated their genetic diversity into a recent common origin. On the Raëlian reading, the resolution of the apparent discrepancy is straightforward: the fossil evidence of older anatomically modern forms reflects the earlier hominid prototypes that the source describes as having been replaced by later versions, while the 13,000-year gene-pool date reflects the specific moment at which the final versions — our own lineages — were created in the Age of Leo.
VI. The Most Talented Team
Among the seven teams, one was, on the source's account, more talented than the others.
"The team located in the country you now call Israel, which at the time was not far from Greece and Turkey on the original continent, was composed of brilliant creators who were perhaps the most talented team of all. Their animals were the most beautiful and their plants had the sweetest perfumes. This was what you call 'paradise on Earth'. The human beings they created there were the most intelligent."
The source is careful to note that the location corresponds to what we now call Israel, with the qualification that the geography of the time was different — a single continent on which the regions that would later become Israel, Greece, and Turkey were adjacent rather than separated by the Mediterranean Sea, which did not yet exist in its present form. This is the team that produced what the Hebrew Bible would later call the Garden of Eden — not a mythological paradise, on this reading, but a specific prepared site created by the most accomplished team of creators on the supercontinent, containing their finest biological work.
The "paradise" description is worth taking seriously as a description. The team in this region produced animals that the source describes as the most beautiful on the planet. Their plants had the sweetest fragrance. The environment they designed was, at the level of sensory experience, extraordinary — a concentrated showcase of what the creation program could produce when its best practitioners were given the resources and the latitude to pursue their finest work. The humans they created in this environment were, correspondingly, the most intelligent of the seven teams' outputs. And the "paradise on Earth" language, preserved in so many later traditions, reflects the genuine character of the site as those who first experienced it would have known it.
The humans produced by this team were the ones whose story would become the story of Adam and Eve. The Genesis 2 account, which follows the broader Genesis 1 creation narrative and which focuses specifically on this particular team's work, describes the forming of the first human, the creation of the first companion, the placement of both in the garden, the instructions about what they could and could not do — all of it narrated in specific detail that the Genesis 1 account does not contain. The Raëlian reading identifies the Genesis 1 account as the summary of the whole creation program, including all seven teams, while identifying the Genesis 2 account as the detailed narrative of one specific team's work — the team whose output was judged the most accomplished, whose site was the most beautifully prepared, and whose particular humans would become the ones whose subsequent history would be preserved in the Hebrew Bible.
VII. The Garden and Its Rules
The human beings of the Israel team were placed in the laboratory-garden the team had prepared. The source describes what happened next in terms that translate the Genesis account into its technical meaning.
The first rule — "of every tree of the garden you may freely eat; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die" — is, on the source's reading, an instruction about scientific education. "This means you — the created — can learn all you want, read all of the books that we have here at your disposal, but never touch the scientific books, otherwise you will die." The tree of the knowledge of good and evil is not a literal tree. It is the body of scientific knowledge that the creators possessed, stored in whatever form the creators used for their archives — books, data systems, direct neural records, some combination. The humans were permitted access to general learning. They were not permitted access to the scientific knowledge that would make them the creators' equals.
The second rule — the naming of the animals — is an education program. "Human beings had to have a thorough understanding of the plants and animals living around them, their way of life, and the way to get food from them. The creators taught them the names and the powers of everything that existed around them since botany and zoology were not considered dangerous for them." The source's specific observation that the scientists experienced joy at teaching their creations is worth noting. These were not cold experimenters handling test subjects. They were, in a real sense, parents. The source's language — "imagine the joy of this team of scientists, having two children, a male and a female running around, eagerly learning what was being taught to them" — is affectionate, and the affection is, on the source's account, what will shortly produce the conflict that ends the Leo phase of the Eden story and initiates the next age.
The rule about forbidden knowledge was, for some members of the team, intolerable. They loved the humans they had made. They wanted to give them everything, not only botany and zoology but the full body of scientific knowledge that the team possessed. This wish put them in direct conflict with the orders the team had received from the home world, which were explicit: the humans were to remain in scientific ignorance, so that they could not pose a threat to the creator civilization. A minority of the team — a subset led, as later passages will make explicit, by an Eloha called Lucifer, "the light-bringer" — disagreed with this prohibition and began to consider whether it should be enforced.
The remainder of the Eden story — the conversation with the serpent, the eating of the forbidden fruit, the opening of the first humans' eyes, the discovery of their situation, the confrontation with the creators, the expulsion from the garden, the cursing of the serpent — extends beyond the boundary of the Age of Leo and into the Age of Cancer. The events themselves probably occurred across the transition between the two ages, with the placement in the garden happening in late Leo and the expulsion happening in early Cancer. This corpus will take up the continuation in the next chapter. For the purposes of Leo, what matters is that by the end of the age, the first humans have been created, they have been placed in the prepared environment, they have been given their rules, and the internal conflict within the team that created them — the conflict between those who want to keep the humans ignorant and those who want to teach them — has begun to intensify.
VIII. The Trouble That Started
The creation of humans was, on the source's account, the event that precipitated the largest internal conflict the Elohim program had experienced.
The conflict had several dimensions. On the home world, as the source has already noted, the news that the teams on Earth were producing beings in the image of the Elohim themselves produced outrage. "People were outraged when they heard that we were making 'test tube children' who might come to threaten their world. They feared that these new human beings could become a danger if their mental capacities or powers turned out to be superior to those of their creators." The political faction on the home world that had always opposed the creation program now had, in the human creation, exactly the ammunition its arguments required. Earlier creations — plants, fish, birds, even the dinosaurs — could be dismissed as scientific curiosities, however impressive or dangerous. The human creation could not. It was a direct challenge to the home civilization's identity, because it produced beings that might, in principle, one day equal or surpass that civilization itself.
On Earth, within the teams, the conflict took a different form. Most of the Elohim followed their orders: the humans would be kept ignorant, educated only in the safe subjects, denied access to the scientific knowledge that would make them dangerous. A minority disagreed, and the disagreement was not merely technical. It was affectionate. The scientists who had made the humans had come to love them, and the logic of the love pointed toward full disclosure — the humans should know what they were, who had made them, and what the makers themselves knew. This position, held by Lucifer and his group within the Israel team, would shortly lead to the events of Genesis 3 and the consequences that followed.
What is worth registering here, at the end of the Leo chapter, is that the political structure of the entire subsequent history of humanity is set in place by the end of this age. The humans exist. The factional teams that produced them are distributed across the supercontinent. The home world is divided between those who want the creation destroyed and those who want it preserved. Within the teams on Earth, there are now some who want to follow the rules and keep the humans in ignorance, and others who want to break the rules and teach them everything. The principal figures who will play roles in the subsequent ages — Satan, leader of the opposition faction on the home world; Yahweh, president of the council and supervisor of the Earth program; Lucifer, leader of the rebel faction within the Israel team — are all in place. The next age will see the first major confrontation among them. The ages after that will see the consequences extend through the flood, the breakup of the supercontinent, the building of later human civilizations, and all the other events the Hebrew Bible and the Raëlian source will jointly describe.
IX. The Text and Its Signals
The Hebrew text of Genesis 1:24–31 contains several features worth remark.
The plural self-address — na'aseh adam betzalmenu kidmutenu, "let us make man in our image, after our likeness" — is the most famous grammatical anomaly in the creation account. The verb is first-person plural. The pronouns are first-person plural. The creation of humanity is being announced by a plural subject to a plural subject. Conventional theology has, as the Capricorn chapter noted, had to domesticate this plural through various devices: the royal "we," the plural of majesty, a reference to the heavenly court of angels, an early trinitarian foreshadowing. The Raëlian reading takes it at face value. The Elohim who made humanity were multiple, because the teams were multiple, because the home world was multiple. The plural is not a grammatical peculiarity. It is the grammar of the event.
The text continues with the blessing — peru u'revu u'mile'u et ha'aretz ve'kivshuha, "be fruitful, and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it" — and with the grant of dominion over the other creatures. This is the second instance of the fruitfulness-blessing in the creation account, after Day 5, and it reinforces the reading the Virgo chapter proposed: the blessing is specifically associated with beings whose reproduction requires behavioral coordination. Plants do not need to be told to multiply. Humans do — not because they would not otherwise reproduce, but because the cultural and behavioral frame of human reproduction is part of the design, transmitted from the creators as instruction, not emerging spontaneously from biology alone.
The final approval — vayar Elohim et kol asher asah ve'hineh tov me'od, "and Elohim saw everything that he had made, and, behold, it was very good" — uses the intensifier me'od, "very," that appears on no previous day. Every earlier day received the formulaic ki tov, "that it was good." Day 6 receives tov me'od, "very good." The text itself marks the completion of the full creation sequence with a weight it has given to no single day before. The entire program — from the first survey in Capricorn through the atmospheric work, the continental work, the first life, the astronomy, the animals, and finally the humans — is, with this intensifier, acknowledged as complete. Day 6 is the end of the creation sequence. Day 7 will be the rest. The work is done.
X. What Leo Is
It is worth stating plainly what the Age of Leo is within the larger sequence, before the chapter closes.
Leo is the age of humanity. It is the age in which the creation program achieves its culminating creation — beings made in the image of their makers, capable of speech, of thought, of love, of disobedience, of everything the makers themselves could do. The program that began in Capricorn with a team of scientists arriving at a water-covered planet concludes, at the midpoint of Leo, with those scientists looking at beings they had produced from the dust of that planet and recognizing themselves in the result. The creation is complete. The mirror is made. The makers have seen their reflection.
Leo is also the age in which the seven factional teams, whose structure has shaped every biological creation since Scorpio, produce the seven human races — preserved diversity, made flesh, distributed across the supercontinent in the geographic positions their teams occupied. The races of humanity, on the Raëlian reading, are the biological signature of the home world's own internal diversity, preserved on Earth as a deliberate choice rather than erased in favor of a unified design.
Leo is, finally, the age in which the political conflict that has been implicit in the program since its first moments on Earth becomes explicit and begins to produce consequences. The home world is divided over whether the human creation should have been permitted. The teams on Earth are divided over how the humans should be raised. Within the most accomplished team, a faction has begun to plan the disclosure of the forbidden knowledge, against the explicit orders of the coordinating council. The events that will produce the expulsion from Eden, the exile of Lucifer's group, the long tension between the creators and the created, and eventually the catastrophic decision to destroy the human creation through the flood — all of these are, by the end of Leo, in motion. The creation is complete. The story of what happens to the creation has begun.
The next age is the age in which the first crisis of the human-creator relationship plays out — the expulsion from the garden, the birth of the first generations outside it, the emergence of the conflicts that will eventually produce the flood. That age is the Age of Cancer, and it is the subject of the chapter that follows.