Some of the earliest known evidence of intentional burial amongst Homo sapiens outside of Africa dates back approximately 100,000 years ago and was found in Qafzeh Cave [read more at this link]. Qafzeh Cave contains artifacts from the Middle paleolithic, an era which occurred from around 250,000 until 45,000 years ago, as well as the Neolithic era (approx. 12,000 until 6,500 y.a.) and Bronze Age (approx. 3,300 until 1,200 y.a.); this is a site rife with human history indeed.
When anthropologists, archaeologists, and other individuals who appreciate the work of these fields reflect on Qafzeh Cave and other sites like it, we often discuss how they speak to our nature as humans, and the irrefutable fact we are and always have been social, collaborative, and compassionate species. Amongst those 15 Homo sapiens found buried in Qafzeh Cave, seven are children; one is a child identified by the name of Qafzeh 12. They are estimated to be around 3 years of age and their skeleton indicates they likely had hydrocephalus, a condition which would not have allowed them to survive to such an age without the extraordinary love and efforts of their caregivers.
While no one could have known it at the time of its discovery, Qafzeh Cave would not end its history with the Bronze Age, nor would our history with this cave end there, either. At least when its first excavation occurred in 1932, this cave called Palestine its home. It was only four years later in 1936 when the revolt in Palestine began, and the cave was blown up that same year by the British when revolutionaries were found to be taking shelter there. As few should be surprised to hear, Israel is now considered home to Qafzeh Cave, and is now located roughly 50 miles northeast of the northernmost borders of present-day Gaza, and around 20 miles north of the nearest borders of the West Bank of Palestine.
Just as the families of those seven children did in Qafzeh Cave thousands of years ago, today and every day there are loved ones not so far away who are burying their children with the same grief tangled in their hearts and minds. It is hard to describe the strange sense of solemn and hollow bewilderment which this realization brings, nor can be explained the sense of despair which comes with knowing there are human beings living and dying so horrifically close to a monument dedicated to our humanity that spans hundreds of thousands of years of our history as a species.
There is a bittersweet power in this collective suffering and how easily some have found find it etched into their minds, reaching out to us just as it did our ancestors 100,000 years ago. Our empathy is a gift from them. While no one should have to experience firsthand this kind of suffering and while we may not be able to take away the pain others are experiencing, humans as a species know there is solace to be found in knowing they shall not be alone in their grief and anger as we will feel it together with them.
