If I told you the term “prehistory” had only been around since the 1830s, would that seem strange?
It’s true. If you’re like me, this comes as a big surprise, but it really shouldn’t. Before the 19th century, historians had to rely on a variety of sources to learn about the ancient world—limited written records, sparse archaeological artifacts, and “oral traditions”, the least trustworthy method imaginable to determine how humans lived before writing.
Clearly, these sources were often incomplete or inaccurate.
By the turn of the 19th century, the Rosetta Stone, with three different scripts from the ancient world (Greek, Demotic, and Egyptian hieroglyphs), played a major role in advancing the study of history. This allowed scholars to decipher the Egyptian hieroglyphs for the first time, which opened up a whole new world of historical knowledge.
If it wasn’t written down, it’s not history. This distinction is important, since it implies that history only goes back about 5000 years, but humans have been walking around the planet in various forms for six million years. Even anatomically modern humans (indistinguishable from us) have been here for 200,000 years or so.
As the budding disciplines of archaeology and anthropology unearthed relics and remnants from even more bygone eras—tools, cave art, and age-old artifacts—it became clear that the story of human beings stretched far beyond the confines of written history.
This burgeoning field of study demanded a term, a label, and thus "prehistory" was born.
Defining Prehistory
You probably know by now that I’m fascinated by the way language develops. “Pre” goes back to Latin’s prae, and that word’s PIE (Proto-Indo-European) root has a similar sound. “History” comes from the Greek word historia, which meant something like an act of seeking knowledge.
Now, prehistoric people certainly sought knowledge! They were just as smart and curious as we are, and imaging that human beings only became intelligent in the last few thousand years dishonors our ancient ancestors.
Nevertheless, there’s a really big difference in what we can study about cultures with writing, and those humans who came before writing.
Ever play the telephone game when you were a little kid? One kid whispers to the kid next to them, and so on, until the message has passed through several participants. By the time the last kid announces the message out loud, it's often hilariously distorted, bearing little resemblance to the original.
Oral traditions function in a similar way, except that we’re often talking about hundreds or thousands of years, not a minute or two as a phrase or story circulates around a circle of kids. Is it any wonder that these stories and legends are susceptible to alterations, embellishments, or omissions with each retelling?
It’s probably not hard to see how unreliable these stories are, but that does not mean that they’re worthless.
Myths and Oral Traditions
It's good to keep in mind that for the majority of human existence, oral traditions were the primary means of preserving knowledge. Accurate or not, these narratives can still offer us a widow into the distant past.
Myths were intricate tapestries woven with threads of cultural wisdom, moral lessons, and historical memories. They were the ancient world's way of making sense of the universe, explaining natural phenomena, and passing down ethical guidelines.
Let’s revisit ancient Greece for a minute. Tales of gods, goddesses, and legendary heroes like Hercules and Achilles were more than mere entertainment. They provided moral lessons, explained the origins of cities and natural phenomena, and were integral to religious practices and ceremonies.
These stories were a way for the ancient Greeks to put a mirror in front of the face of their society. As people listened to the poems and stories being passed down over the centuries, they thought about the cautionary tales of Icarus and Midas. They remembered the stories of the ancient city of Troy and its downfall.
Well, the city of Troy was real.
While very few facts were presented in the Iliad and the Odyssey, those scant factual nuggets have proven incredibly valuable to historians and anthropologists. The same is true for pretty much all cultures.
Even myths that are just cool stories can tell us a lot about a culture. Do they believe in a cyclical universe? Did their culture have reverence for a patriarchal household? By understanding how our ancient ancestors explained their universe, we can uncover quite a bit about how people lived before writing.
Back to the telephone game for a sec—the preservation of these myths was no easy task. In the absence of written records, it fell upon specialized individuals to memorize, uphold, and transmit these stories to the next generation.
In many cultures, these storytellers were revered figures. Celtic Druids underwent extensive training to master vast amounts of historical and religious knowledge, all committed to memory. The Griots of West Africa (originating from the Mali empire) have long been custodians of oral history, using music and song to recount tales of ancestry, heroism, and morality.
While myths might not provide a factual chronicle of events in the way written records do, they offer invaluable insights into the beliefs, values, and aspirations of ancient cultures. They remind us that history is as much about the stories we tell as it is about the events that transpired.
To Prehistory and Beyond
Our understanding of the past clearly isn’t confined to what’s written down, and thank goodness for that! Instead, we’re fortunate enough to have a blend of oral traditions—my main focus today—and archaeology—to help us understand how our grandparents’ grandparents’ grandparents’… grandparents lived.
The discovery of archaeological sites like Göbekli Tepe pushes the boundaries of what we thought we knew about early human societies. Such sites predate writing by several thousand years (Göbekli Tepe was around longer before writing than it has been after), and these sorts of discoveries challenge our conventional narratives and present a tantalizing mystery.
These stones, artifacts, and ancient structures speak a language of their own—a language of symbols, design, and purpose. They pose questions, some of which we may never fully answer.
Each new discovery, whether it's a myth, an artifact, or an ancient manuscript, adds a piece to the puzzle. And as we continue to dig deeper, both literally and figuratively, into our past, we're reminded of the boundless curiosity that defines us as a species.
It is this curiosity that brought us out of prehistory and into history, and it is this curiosity that drives us forward from here.
@AndrewSmith "In many cultures, these storytellers were revered figures. Celtic Druids underwent extensive training to master vast amounts of historical and religious knowledge, all committed to memory. The Griots of West Africa were custodians of oral history, using music and song to recount tales of ancestry, heroism, and morality."
Eons from now when Google, Wikipedia, Substack and Andrew Smith have been unplugged, how will the curious folk of then discover our stories? Can 8 billion people have "a story"? Thanks for scratchinig my curiosity this lovely morning.
Amazed to find out the term "prehistory" is relatively "new". And interesting that you mention Göbekli Tepe - I have been reading about it in this brilliant book - https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/314162/the-dawn-of-everything-by-wengrow-david-graeber-and-david/9780141991061 Fascinating!