This is a story about a murder.
Killing becomes murder when against the nature of all other killing: devoid of passion, its effect horrific, its result tragic.
Perhaps this happened in the shadow of the mountain Chia-Y Bradost, about 40,000 years ago.
15 kilometers from the peak of Bradost lies a cave, a dark and shallow hole in the earth. The cavern, known as Shanidar, has hosted beasts great and small, protecting them however briefly from the outside world.
Shanidar is known, however, for the dead bodies found in it.
Between 1957 and 1961, 9 bodies were pulled from Shanidar’s earth. Yet, unlike the souls trapped within Altamura or Taung or the Awash, these dead were not buried where they fell. Though one had died in this cave, these dead were laid with purpose.
The one who had died in the cave - the 2nd one - was laid beneath stones. Another - the 4th -was scattered with flowers - research has concluded it accidental, but flowers at a funeral are lovely.
But you are here - we are here - for a victim of murder. He was the third.
The 3rd at Shanidar, like all 9 at Shanidar, was old - as old as 50, and as Homo neanderthalensis would’ve looked twice that. He had a gimp foot, broken but never set properly. He would’ve been ugly in life - indicative of the love his brethren had, keeping him alive.
Unlike the bodies beset with age, or crushed by rocks, the 3rd at Shanidar did not have clear cause of death. No disease or weakness was apparent. There was not but 1 detail.
Here on his rib was a cut. This was his 9th rib, on his left side - not too far from his heart.
Cuts such as these were perhaps unusual in those bodies that looked like ourselves. It certainly would not have been done by himself; the angle was wrong for that. This was done by someone else. It was, in fact, done from a slight distance, with a particular kind of point.
Homo neanderthalensis hunted well and often. They came with spears clenched in hand, skewering prey between them. It would seem peculiar to us that they weren’t versed in tossing the spear - something missing in the wrist.
But that would seem peculiar to us, wouldn’t it?
40,000 years ago, the land was under contest - not just the slope of Bradost, but the whole amongst the Tigris and Euphrates. Neanderthals had lived in the lands for quite a long time - but so had Homo sapiens.
It was unfortunate that, here, that contest showed itself.
Even narrowing down to the area’s population of Homo sapiens, no suspects can be located or questioned at this time. We can only speculate what must’ve been running through that human’s mind, tossing a spear through this Neanderthal’s chest.
The possibilities seem grim.
Was it an act of passion, this violence? Hypotheses have been passed back and forth as to how differently Homo neanderthalensis might’ve thought from Homo sapiens. Perhaps some disagreement formed between the parties, and the human took the initiative into violence...
Could the human have tried to hunt him, the 3rd body uncovered at Shanidar? At the time, humans hunted well and often. But, we weren’t hunters like Neanderthals. We weren’t as strong, and we couldn’t run as fast.
What we had was that terrible thing - persistence.
A hunter amongst Homo sapiens would pierce the flesh of an animal, striking a part that bled well. Then, they would need not strike again. As the beast fled, they would follow, until complications took the animal’s life. Then, that gluttonous horde would be upon them.
The 3rd at Shanidar died weeks after the attack. The point hadn’t pierced his heart, but it was a part that bled well, even with the care his brethren gave. A mortician would’ve listed the death as from “complications”.
Perhaps someone else waited for him to die, too...
This assumes motive. We were not unilaterally cruel to our cousins. A good percentage of their DNA (seen thanks to the trapped soul in Altamura) lays that bare.
Still, there are gulfs of understanding between humans. What gulfs could’ve sat between us and our adjacent?
It may be a long time before we ever know. We can guess that the 3rd of Shanidar, as they were buried at that rare place, was wept over. He would’ve been survived by some, missed by all of them. He was the first of many to fall, before there were none left to continue.
We are the last of a history, full of species with loves and dreams. Perhaps in our eagerness to find that neighborhood again, those dead like at Shanidar are deterred.
The 3rd from Shanidar, murdered by human hand, now lies interred at the Smithsonian in Washington DC.
