Ominous Commandments
The Georgia Guidestones after the 2022 bombing.
Elif Blackstock June 3, 2025
In a large field in northeastern Georgia, just outside the small city of Elberton and its population of below 5,000, stood six granite stones, arranged in a Stonehenge like construction. They functioned, in part as a solar calendar: holes drilled into the granite aligned with the Pole Star, the solstice, and the equinox, and one allowed a ray of sun to pass through at noon, pointing to the day of the year. They were erected in 1980, and commissioned by a man known only by the pseudonym R.C. Christian, allegedly on behalf of a small group of individuals who believed in the importance of the stones, and the message they held. Over the years, they became a tourist attraction, drawing tens of thousands of visitors each year, and the subject of conspiracy and fascination across the world until, in 2022, a bomb exploded at the site, shattering one of the slabs and leading to the demolition of the rest over concerns for their structural integrity after the damage. No one has ever been caught in relation to the crime, and many rejoiced their destruction, for upon the stones were ten maxims which, since their inception, have caused controversy, confusion, celebration, and speculation in equal measure.
On the four main stones, in eight languages, were what appeared to be new commandments for living, written by Christian, and the group he claimed to represents. They do not prescribe to an obvious or exact school of thought, at times political, social, and moral, and moving between the sensible, the eccentric, the absurd, and the worrying. Rational commands such as ‘Be not a cancer on earth—leave room for nature', ‘Protect people and nations with fair laws and just courts’, and ‘Balance personal rights with social duties’, stand next to more poetic, cryptic, or outlandish ideas such as ‘Prize truth, beauty and love, seeking harmony with the infinite’, and ‘Unite humanity with a living new language’. Of the ten maxims, however, it is numbers one and two that caused the stone’s controversy, and ultimately led to its destruction. At the top of each of the granite slabs, in English, Spanish, Swahili, Hindi, Hebrew, Arabic, Traditional Chinese, and Russian respectively, were the phrases ’Maintain humanity under 500,000,000 in perpetual balance with nature’ and ‘Guide reproduction wisely – improving fitness and diversity’.
In 1980, when the stones were erected, the human population was close to 4.5 billion. The two opening principles, then, seemed to not only call for the eradication of nearly 90% of the earths population, but the second maxim also was interpreted as encouraging eugenics. With their obscured origins, the shady nature of their commissioner, and mysterious purpose, alongside the fact that many of the other commandments seemed both rational and applicable to modern life, the two opening statements seemed ominous, and a slate of theories as to the true meaning of the stones began to develop.
“Despite—or perhaps because of—the speculation, no one ever came forward to confirm or deny the identity of R.C. Christian, nor to clarify the stones’ intended purpose”
To some, these declarations represented a philosophical musing on how humanity might live sustainably in the aftermath of global catastrophe when population levels may already be drastically reduced. The Cold War was raging in 1980, and a nuclear armageddon did not seem so far away to many. The Georgia Guidestones, to some, served not as a genocidal directive, but as a kind of Rosetta Stone for future survivors, offering guidance on how to rebuild civilization in harmony with the natural world. The ecological language woven throughout the inscriptions supported this to those who believed this view, seeing the project as a modern-day monument to environmental stewardship and enlightened governance.
Others, however, saw something far darker in the granite. The language of “guiding reproduction” and maintaining a specific population cap struck many as eerily similar to the rhetoric of eugenicists and promoted authoritarian population control. Conspiracy theories flourished, especially in the internet age. Some believed the stones were the work of a shadowy elite planning a New World Order, using the monument as a declaration of their future intentions. For these theorists, the anonymity of R.C. Christian was no coincidence, but a deliberate attempt to mask the involvement of powerful globalist actors. The fact that the site also aligned astronomically only contributed to ideas of occult symbolism, spurring claims that the monument had Masonic or even Satanic undertones.
In right-wing and religious circles, the stones became a lightning rod. Christian evangelicals decried the language of a “new world language” and “harmony with the infinite” as New Age heresy, incompatible with biblical teachings. Some described the structure as “America’s Stonehenge of Satan,” believing it to be the work of dark spiritual forces masquerading as enlightenment. Politicians and pundits from conservative media outlets occasionally referenced the stones as proof of moral decay or creeping globalism, fanning public suspicion.
Despite—or perhaps because of—the speculation, no one ever came forward to confirm or deny the identity of R.C. Christian, nor to clarify the stones’ intended purpose. The Elbert County Granite Finishing Company, which had been paid handsomely for the project, honored a vow of silence, further deepening the mystery. As years passed, the stones stood silent, defying explanation, as more and more visited them each year. Their destruction in 2022 was, to many, both an act of terror and of symbolism. Whether the bomber saw them as a threat, an abomination, or merely a target to stir fear and debate, the Guidestones were finally reduced to rubble. But the questions they raised—about humanity’s future, its values, and its power to shape the world—remain etched in the imagination, if not in stone.