The Ongoing Journey of Humanity: Reflections on Migration and Conflict

The topic of migration increasingly captivates my thoughts, particularly as it intertwines with the broader theme of war. This leads me to ponder how extraterrestrial beings, unaffected by these human struggles, might perceive our chaotic existence.

This AlienView, as I like to call it, emerges from the novel I am currently working on. (And I find myself eager to return to that creative endeavor.)

From various scientific perspectives, it is believed that humans have existed for over a million years, evolving into a modern form somewhat akin to ourselves. This raises the question: how did humanity, as we know it, come to be, regardless of where we currently reside?

Current understanding suggests that humanity originated in Africa. But why did we not remain there? This question leads us into the modern discourse on migration. Natural disasters, such as droughts that dry up water sources or floods that wash away homes, have historically forced people to leave their regions. For much of that million years, our ancestors were nomadic, constantly on the move in search of food and fleeing seasonal climate changes.

The Perspective of Extraterrestrials It was only during the Neolithic Revolution around 12,000 years ago that some groups began to settle down. This transition marked the beginning of modern refugee crises. For various reasons—whether material need, greed, or envy—neighbors often turned against one another, displacing those who survived the initial onslaught. Once they regained strength, the displaced would return to reclaim their lands or seek new territories, often resulting in further violence against those already settled there. The cycle of displacement and conflict continued, leading to the ongoing struggles we see today.

This may sound cynical, but it is not meant to be. Viewing this from an AlienView, one might observe that a certain Greek philosopher named Heraclitus (circa 500 B.C.) wisely noted, “War is the father of all things.” The extraterrestrials might question, “Where is the mother in this scenario?” To which I would respond: “Fathers may destroy everything, but mothers heal wounds, bury the dead, restore order, and bring forth new life—new potential fathers and mothers, continuing the cycle.” “Why don’t you change this?” they might ask. “Perhaps we are still too foolish to do so. Yet, perhaps the current war in Syria can teach us something, especially with the hundreds of thousands of refugees it has generated, many of whom are now heading toward us.” “It doesn’t appear so. This war, which consists of three, or perhaps soon four, conflicts, is only just beginning. Many fathers will perish, and creativity seems lacking, aside from the development of new weapons.” “Can we agree that war disrupts everything and serves as a vast kneading machine for humanity? And that it always has?”

The Great Streams of Humanity With that, the aliens retreat, and I regain some clarity. I reflect on the other, more peaceful streams of humanity: the waves of guest workers from Italy, Spain, and Turkey who came to us, taking on jobs that we, the children of the economic miracle, deemed beneath us. These economic refugees preferred the promise of Germany over the hardships of their homelands. I also think of the millions of Germans who emigrated to America, Australia, and elsewhere—economic refugees all.

Inspired by these hypothetical aliens, I consider the various human migrations that took place for countless reasons—whether to spread Christianity, to massacre Saracens, or to destroy indigenous peoples across the Americas. I envision the fleets and armies of colonial powers like England, France, and Spain, and how modern terrorism has brought violence back to cities like London, Paris, and Madrid.

I recall Charles Martel, who is often portrayed in schools as a valiant Christian leader who destroyed the most advanced civilization of his time in Spain. They spared the Alhambra but could not erase the astronomical, medical, and philosophical knowledge of the Arabs—one of the few lights in the darkness of the Christian Middle Ages. Later, the Spanish and Portuguese set out to obliterate the great cultures of the Incas, Mayans, and Aztecs. Have I forgotten any other civilizational contributions of war? The hatred of Catholics in France towards Lutherans and Calvinists gave rise to the Huguenot culture in Prussia. The Protestants expelled from Salzburg not only enriched North America, but just a few years earlier, the Pilgrims fled England to build what is now the USA, despite the fact that this came at the expense of the indigenous populations.

The Extraterrestrials… …would likely conclude that humans have spent 99% of their evolutionary history on the move: as conquerors, refugees, explorers, traders, wanderers, tourists, and even terrorists. Why, then, this fear among neo-Nazis and groups like Pegida towards the other? Where does this hatred stem from, when all of us were once strangers at some point? Home (and its defense) is merely a tiny concrete point in one’s life story. It is far more related to language and human relationships—it is much more a spiritual place than a mere location on a map. I am curious about the life stories and family histories of those involved with Pegida!

In conclusion, is not fleeing in all its forms, along with its causes, a fundamental theme of human history?

The Ubiquity of the Labyrinth Motif On a different note, this is, after all, a Labyrinth blog. What is the connection to refugees (and wars)? The signs from recent days indicate a strong correlation. The narrative continues to weave itself. More on this in the next blog post.