
Here you can see an obsidian bladelet embedded in the victim's skull on the left side. (credit: Marta Mirazon Lahr)
Depending on your perspective, it was a war or just a violent encounter between two groups. Left in the shallow waters of a lagoon in Nataruk, Kenya, the victims' skeletons were preserved for 10,000 years in the positions they held in death. There were 21 adults and six children. Some still had stone weapons lodged in their bones. Their skulls were fractured by blunt force trauma. A pregnant woman appears to have been bound, her hands and feet tied together, and left to die. Another woman's knees were broken, one of her feet fractured, and her hands bound. Her skeleton was surrounded by fish, as if her attackers decided to cover her in garbage.
Due to a fluke of geology, the aftermath of this massacre was preserved in lagoon sediments until 2012, when several of the skeletons were exposed by winds on a long gravel bar running parallel to the dunes that now blanket the area. The victims were killed at the edge of Lake Turkana, whose shores have today shrunk by 30km. In the early Holocene, when these people were still alive, the region was full of hunter-fisher groups living on the bounty of the lake and its surrounding land.
Archaeologists have little evidence of war during this period in human history, when Homo sapiens was still largely a nomadic animal. Many would argue that war is an outgrowth of the settled life, when people began to stockpile foodstuffs in their homes, thus making themselves targets for groups who needed or wanted more. The famous historian Lewis Mumford once argued that cities were originally built as war machines. Conflicts that occurred before we raised city walls and armies, he believed, could not truly be called warfare. But the authors of a new paper in Nature call that assumption into question. They chronicle the violent deaths of these 27 people in ancient Kenya and ask whether it might not be one of the first records of human warfare in history.