In that time, only just emerging from the unknown, still enveloped by the dark shadows of the unconscious, men were brought together by a communal work. They found themselves in a foreign place, with no means of escape, a place that seemed to them uncertain and filled with dangers, but high above them they saw the sky, clear and pure, eternal mirror of the infinite, and a yearning was born in them. So they came together and said: “Come, let us build a city and a tower whose summit will reach the sky so that our name will remain for all eternity.” And they joined forces, moulded the clay and fired the bricks and began to construct a tower which would extend to the domain of God above, his stars and the pale shell of the moon.

From on high God saw their puny efforts and smiled, perhaps imagining that these men of such small stature, like tiny insects, were forming still smaller things from moulded earth and sculpted stone. Below him these men were rising to the task, driven on by their desire for eternity, yet to him it seemed but an innocent game devoid of danger. But soon he saw the foundations of their tower begin to grow, because these men were united and in accord, because they never paused in their work and came to each other’s assistance in a spirit of mutual harmony. So he said to himself: “They will never let that tower alone until they have finished it.” For the first time he saw the greatness of the spirit which he had bestowed on men. But it dawned on him that this was not like his own spirit, which rested after seven days of labour, but quite another, both impressive and dangerous, with an indefatigable fervour which would never cease until the work was realized. And for the first time God became fearful that these men might become like him, a unity. So he began pondering ways he might slow down their labour and he knew there was nothing more effective to break their unity than sowing discord amongst them. He said to himself: “I shall disrupt them by ensuring they do not understand each other’s languages.” And for the first time God showed his cruelty towards mankind.

And God’s dark resolution was made. He directed his hand against the men who down below worked in a spirit of unity and dedication, and smote that spirit. The bitterest hour of humanity had come. Suddenly, overnight, in the midst of their labours, men could no longer understand each other. They cried out, but had no concept of each other’s speech, and so they became enraged with each other. They threw down their bricks, picks and trowels, they argued and quarrelled until finally they abandoned the communal work, each returning to his own home in his own land. They dispersed into the fields and forests of the earth and there each built his own house which did not reach the clouds, nor God, but merely sheltered his own head and his nightly slumber. The Tower of Babel, that colossal edifice, remained abandoned; the wind and rain gradually tore away the parapets, which were already approaching the sky, and little by little the whole structure crumbled away, subsided and was laid to ruin. Soon it was just a legend that appeared in the canticles and humanity completely forgot the monumental work of its youth.

Centuries and millennia passed and men lived in the isolation of their languages. They erected boundaries between their fields and territories, between their customs and beliefs, and when they crossed them it was only in order to rob. For centuries and millennia there was no unity amongst them, only their own pride, and egocentric works prospered. However, of their communal youth some vestige remained in them, a vague dream of the great work, which gradually over the years grew in them and unconsciously they began to reflect deep within on their lost community. A handful of audacious men made the first move: they visited foreign kingdoms, carried messages; little by little people established friendships, one learnt something from the other; they exchanged their knowledge, their values, their precious metals and they gradually realized that their national languages only distanced themselves from each other and their frontiers were not in fact a chasm between peoples. Their sages came to realize that a science practised by one people could never hope to reach towards the infinite and the scholars soon saw that if they exchanged their knowledge humanity would progress at a faster rate; the poets translated the words of their brothers into their own languages and music, the only art not subjected to the narrow confines of language, served as the common language of emotions. Men loved life more when they knew that, in spite of the obstacle of languages, unity was possible. They thanked God for the punishment he had dealt them and thanked him too for having divided them in such a radical manner, because it gave them the opportunity to relish their world in different ways and to love more consciously their unity with all its many differences.

So the Tower of Babel once more began to rise gradually from the soil of Europe, the monument to communal brotherhood, mankind’s solidarity. But it was no longer raw materials which went into this tower’s construction, no longer bricks and clay, mortar and earth that they used to reach the heavens and fraternize with God and the world. The new tower was built with a more delicate and yet more indestructible substance which they discovered on earth, that of spirituality and experience, the most sublime material of the soul. Wide and deep were its foundations; Eastern wisdom lent depth, Christian doctrine gave balance, and the humanity of antiquity its building blocks of bronze. Everything humanity had achieved, all that the terrestrial spirit had accomplished was put into this tower, and so it rose up. Each nation contributed to this monument of Europe; the young people rushed in to learn all they could alongside the old, offering their untainted strength to experience and wisdom.