Don't Call it a Cult: The Shocking Story of Keith Raniere and the Women of NXIVM

by Sarah Berman

Before getting caught up in NXIVM headlines, Nicki Clyne had been best known for her role as Cally on the sci-fi drama Battlestar Galactica, while Allison Mack had lit up TV screens as Chloe Sullivan, best friend to Superman in the CW show Smallville.

(After many months of pretrial dealings, Judge Garaufis seemed at ease correctly pronouncing the name Ra-neer-ee and his organization Neks-ee-um.)

(The NXIVM name has many layered meanings, from “next millennium” to “place of learning” to the more hidden meaning that allegedly references the Roman concept of debt bondage.)

Salzman took a photo of the handwritten confession with her phone. This was the first price of admission to the international women’s group called DOS, or Dominus Obsequious Sororium—a fake Latin phrase roughly translating to “master over the slave women.”

Black women, Indigenous women, and other women of color came through NXIVM’s entry-level courses but in many cases left quickly and quietly. The women who stayed and became lifers were mostly white or white-passing, many raised in private schools and country clubs, where subjugation was an abstraction more than a lived reality.

The letters KAR and the symbol burned into her skin pointed back to the same person. For nearly thirty minutes of unbearable pain with no anesthetic, Keith Alan Raniere’s initials had been seared onto Edmondson’s body.