Gods and Liars
Enki, who had helped to fashion Homo Sapiens Sapiens, had an obvious interest in its development. Though half-brother Enlil (the chief god later known as Yahweh) was interested in men and women to serve as helpers (slaves), he cared little for their improvement beyond that capacity.
There was work to be done in the gold mines of southern Africa, and the countless other tasks in ministering to the needs of the “gods”… waiting on them, doing for them … light and heavy chores the gods themselves had long tired of, for which Enlil appreciated having humans around to perform. But he was at heart an elitist, reluctant to share his station with others of inferior rank.
For that reason, Enlil strongly opposed any increase in humans’ capacity other than as workers. But Enki was a true scientist – he sought to make continual improvements in his grand achievement, Man.
Most notable was his achieving man’s ability to reproduce; for our earlier version was, like mules and other hybrids, sterile. So many workers were needed that it became unfeasible to continue producing them only seven at a time. The various gods each had many uses for such valuable helpers, and it was up to Enki to more quickly satisfy the growing demand.
This challenge was met with the scientific assistance of sister Ninhursag (aka Ninmah, Lady of the Mountain, Sud, Hathor [in Egypt]). By careful experiment with genetic material from both gods and sterile hybrids, Enki was able at last to produce a new generation of hybrids who were no longer sterile. Instead of being individually mass-produced, humans were now self-replicating. Demand by the gods for these valued workers could now be more easily met.
Enlil was of two minds. On the one hand, having more workers more quickly was good. But, on the other – at what price? This was doubly vexing, for the quickly multiplying breed could be quite noisy at times. Enlil couldn’t sleep. And, as noted in the Sumerian literature, he wiped out mankind, obliterating most, on more than one occasion in a span of several hundred years. Before man had been around for 1200 years, he did it again, allowing destruction by an impending flood. After that, also according to the literature, he promised not to do it again. The second issue of vexation was the matter of intelligence. A chimp or an ape, as we know, differs from our genetic makeup by only one percent. And it was that tiny percentage, supplied by Enki’s handiwork all those eons ago, that made all the difference between a “dumb brute” and a “good worker.” Apes and chimps don’t follow orders too well. Neither did Homo Erectus, the precursor candidate available to Enki at the time.
The genes of intelligence, then, supplied by a race of beings whose perfection of those genes spanned undoubtable millennia, those genes were the answer to the problem of manufacturing a “thinking” ape – one who could understand the tasks and do the work.
The first generation of such workers was laudable … they were creatures not unlike ourselves, but still unfinished, for they ate grass like the animals in the field. Further work by Enki in the lab resolved that crude edge, and also the problem of sterility. Man was now capable of almost any task, and good enough to have around, that Enlil himself even let them tend his garden.
But a certain tree therein afforded more than mineral supplement. Records of history would imply that it granted an enhancement of mental facility. To Enlil, this had to be off limits. Good workers were stupid workers. Too much intelligence, and they might not be good workers for long. Therefore, they couldn’t eat from that tree.
But Enki knew better. When Enlil lied about it and told them it would kill them, Enki told the truth – that they wouldn’t die.
Eve believed him, and offered it to Adam, who also believed. As they didn’t die, it was obvious that Enlil was “The Father of Lies,” an appellation wrongly affixed in the Bible to Enki (falsely known as “The Snake”).
So upset that his order not to eat from that tree was defied, so irate that his “commandment” had been flouted, Enlil banished
these upstarts from his garden to fend for themselves in the harsh land beyond. And later, when these smarter humans got together after the flood to build a “tower to heaven” (or, as some believe, “access” to “where the gods assemble,” by means of a “shem,” a rocketship), Enlil once again complained to the other gods about how intelligent man had become, for human speech was no longer the mindless grunts of animals but now the refined ability to communicate with each other:
“Come, let us go down,” said Enlil, to confuse the speech of men and scatter them across the land. Enlil admitted that man was so smart, there was literally nothing he could not do. The “tower” or rocket platform or access to the gods was clearly upsetting to Enlil … and, thus, it had to be destroyed. Bye Bye, Babel.
