He travels the globe in search of the first man. Read an excerpt from Frank Westerman’s book

In 2003, scientists discovered mysterious remains in a cave on the island of Flores. The previously unknown humanoid creatures were only a meter tall, surrounded by the skeletons of rats as large as dogs and as tiny elephants as ponies. The discovery was like a grenade thrown into a neat theory of evolution. For what – or rather who – were these primitive people of modern people, and what did this find say about our origins?

Starting with an ancient skull, Frank Westerman travels the globe in search of the first human: the missing link between humans and apes. He observes the work of eminent paleoanthropologists with journalistic curiosity and analyzes it in the light of post-colonialism, the latest DNA research and the growing importance of women’s achievements in this male-dominated field.

Frank Westerman “We, humanoid” (translated by Olga Niziołek) – excerpt:

In March 1952, Father Verhoeven, armed with shovels, returns with his seminarians to Liang Bua Cave. Three excavations in three carefully measured places reveal layers of ash and a clay pot. “After 30 centimeters, we found bones.” Verhoeven describes with slight sympathy how some of his assistants rushed to flee at the sight of a human hand – out of fear of evil spirits.

In the summer of 1954, in the Liang Toge cave, Verhoeven’s father digs up a complete human skeleton from among the remains of a giant bat. The skull is cracked; there was a lot of trouble brushing it clean with a paintbrush. The missionary packs the bones into liturgical cans and ships them by ocean liner to Surabai, Java, and from there to the Netherlands. By mistake, the can goes to Verhoeven’s sister, who lives in Uden.

From correspondence with a physical anthropologist at the University of Utrecht: “This fragmented skull is a fascinating specimen. We are delighted.”

The results of the study are announced by none other than the most famous Dutch fossil seeker, Professor Dr. GHR von Koenigswald: “To the great joy of all of us, the skeleton undoubtedly belongs to the Negrita.” He is “a member of the negral peoples with an elongated skull”: modern man, Homo sapiens, but still early: protonegrit. The man from Liang Toge was 1.46 meters.

As an amateur finder and archaeologist, Father Verhoeven decides to publish a text on the subject in response – in the Swiss church newspaper Anthropos. Das Skelett hat viele archaische Merkmale [Szkielet ma wiele cech archaicznych]. The structure of the pelvis, sharp incisors and the shape of the skull make him speculate loudly that the skeleton may belong to a local, as yet unknown species of primitive man.

Verhoeven kicks on. In early 1957, he finds an elephant’s jaw – not in a cave, but in a steep slope of a dry river. He is familiar with such an element of the landscape from the Meuse valley. Thanks to his discovery, he first finds his way to the “Java-Bode” and then also “Maasbode”: Fossils of a prehistoric animal have been discovered on Flores.

The incomplete jaw with the upper and lower teeth belongs to a dwarf elephant that lived half a million years ago. “What a wonderful discovery deserving huge congratulations,” writes von Koenigswald. “I never thought our elephants made it this far east.”

The finder himself is proud to add that Alfred Russel Wallace (“Darwin’s friend”) noted in 1859 that large Asian mammals did not travel further than Bali. In other words: they did not cross the strait between Bali and Lombok. “It was called the Wallace Line.” Now, however, Verhoeven, a missionary from Uden, has dug elephant fossils on Flores, two islands farther east. The English-speaking press felt that he had dealt a heavy blow to Wallace’s line, a hard blow.

In his notes, Theodor Verhoeven does not seem empty, lonely or moody anywhere. It is not known if Paula previously censored documents from archival boxes for decency. In the correspondence regarding the handing over of the collection, we found a letter of her authorship. As she wrote, her husband on his deathbed wished his private collections not to end up in the monastery archives, but to be transferred to the university.

“He was very ill then (April 1990). He died on June 3, 1990.”

When we arrived at the monastery village of Steyl, we were unable to see one more: any manifestations of religiousness or spirituality in the life of Father Theodor Verhoeven. Yes, he graduated from the minor and then the major seminary, was ordained a priest, and was sent to Flores as a missionary to preach God’s Word there. We also know how it ended: Around Christmas 1966, Verhoeven lost control of the steering wheel of his mission car, fell out of a curve and fell into a ravine. Numerous fractures made it necessary to return to his homeland. “I had to go back to Europe immediately,” he wrote down matter-of-factly. A car accident marked the end of his eighteen-year stay in Flores.