While writing a book on human genesis and hybrid man (The Mysterious Origins of Hybrid Man), I was determined to leave out the story of ‘Pan,’ the lost continent in the Pacific Ocean, which some call Mu or Lemuria. I thought it was too complex, too controversial—too separate an issue to drag into my already copious (basically anti-Darwinian) arguments. But the chapters were full of references to prediluvial man and the small-statured race, homo sapiens pygmaeus, that, as I believe, escaped the sinking of Pan. There was no way of avoiding the issue.
Alas, I gave in and covered the subject briefly in a prologue, the last sentence of which reads: “The subject of Pan (Panology) requires a book … for without an understanding of the children of Noah, our own lineage remains truly a mystery.” And now I am writing that book—which stands as a companion also to the previous one on the Little People, a lost race which, as I argue, were not only the sole survivors of the Flood, but also the Light-bearers of antiquity.
Indeed, in one Amerind tradition, the only flood survivors were “little men of the mountains” (mounds, really), who I believe were h. s. pygmaeus—the tiny people, with their distinctive long, white and yellow hair and full beards, in short, a “Caucasian” prototype. Certainly, many “gods” of the Pacific, like Lono, Tangaroa, and Tane, are portrayed as white-skinned. Hawaii’s underrated (and heavily mythologized) Menehune and Mu people were, significantly, bearded and long-haired. Known as the Small Sacred Workers (Ka Poe Nenehune), they represent, I am convinced, that prediluvial race who were the accomplished engineers behind great irrigation works on the islands. (There were little people also in New Zealand, New Caledonia and Panape.)
Oceania, also frightfully underrated, has begun to yield her secrets, promising to emerge as the primordial fount of human culture (clothing and weaving, agriculture and writing, canals and navigation)—in other words, a vital key to the ocean-going civilization that dominated the misnamed “Stone Age.”
Updating James Churchward’s famous “motherland of man,” I usually say Pan, rather than Mu or Lemuria. The many other names of this lost land in the abnormally outsized Pacific Ocean (12,000 miles across, more than three times the breadth of the Atlantic!) are too numerous to list exhaustively; a few examples are: Tien-mu, Lumania, Rutas, Pacifica, Adoma, Patulan-Pa-Civan, Peng Sha—not to mention dozens of names used in the Pacific Islands themselves, chief of which is probably Havaiki or Hiva.
But none of these names (except Mu) have the universal range of “Pan,” which is constantly found in the place-names of Mexico: in Totonaca-pan, for example, the suffixed—pan simply means “land.” Would you believe that words like panic, pandemic, panache, panorama, pantheon, Panama, Panape, JaPan, and even Peter Pan have their origin in a Never Neverland now at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean? Reviving the almost lost art of comparative linguistics, this investigation thrills with Linguistic Archaeology as a means to unearth the precious “word fossils” capable of illuminating the hidden past. Pan’s Temples of Khu, for example, had been so sacred that the name Khu was carried over by the founders and temple-builders of Mexico (Ku-icilco), Egypt (Khu-fu), Thailand (Khu Mueang), Persia (Khuzistan) and Asia Minor (Du Ku). Tendrills of the mother language reach out in every direction. Consider the word for “house,” as it radiated out from Pan to the settlements of Shem, Ham, Jaffeth (the sons of Noah)—and America:
Pan & oke: Shem kr-oke (Vedic) and okel (Phoenician); Ham oke (Egyptian); Jaffeth o-ak (Chinese) and oikos (Greek); America ok (Algonquin) and oko (Guarani).
Tackling the inevitable questions posed by protohistory—who, what, how, why, when, and where—we begin with: Who? Exactly who were the survivors of the Flood? In a sense, you could say they were the original Ari-ans (“Aryans”), despite what we’ve been taught, did not originate in the Baltic or on the Indo-Iranian plateau; rather, they were the ari-stocracy of Polynesia: arii = “king” in the Society Islands; ari-ki = “regal” in Hawaii; Ari = the god of Rarotonga; Ari-hi = the culture hero of Tahiti. Otherwise put, Oceanic people were perhaps the earliest Caucasoids and after the submersion of Pan, which was indeed the Great Flood, I believe, these sons and daughters of Noah became the civilizers of each continent that they settled. And this is how we can explain the “White Indians” known throughout the Americas—as well as the “anomalous” red-haired mummies of China (belatedly confirming Churchward’s Uighur Empire), and also the “European” faces of Japan’s Ainu people. As Chinese legend recalls, the Gobi Desert was once inhabited by white men with blue eyes and fair hair. There are traces of whites in Nepal as well, and in the blond, light-eyed tribal groups of Pakistan, Nuristan, and quite a few other “-stans.”
The next question is: What? What happened? Did the Flood really destroy a great civilization—as we have so often been told? No, not at all! A serious departure from the school of thought that says a great antediluvian civilization was reduced to savagery or obliterated by a catastrophic deluge, my understanding is quite the reverse. Not a scintilla of knowledge was lost because of the Great Flood. In fact, it set off a new golden age, as the survivors dispersing from Pan brought a renaissance of culture to the Old and New Worlds.
This circumstance leads to the questions How and Why, and it is here that we come upon a remarkable consistency in the traditions of the world’s people, so many of which recollect that a Flood was occasioned by the monstrous misdeeds (including cannibalism and incest) of man, the gods themselves having decided to cleve asunder that land to erase the abomination from the face of the earth; which is to say, it was not a natural catastrophe.
And when we ask where The Flood happened—it cannot, I believe, have been in the Fertile Crescent: After reviewing the many, many proposed sites of the Garden of Eden (candidates include Punt, Turkey, Ceylon, Hyperborea, Sahara, Titicaca, Ohio, etc.), all roads lead to the Sea and to Fenua Nui, the garden paradise of first man which, say the Tahitians, the God of Winds broke up into a thousand islands. Though the Tigris-Euphrates cradle of man is favored by Biblicists and scholars alike, the Sumerians themselves said that civilization was brought to them by godlike beings from the Sea, sometimes represented as mighty fish-gods.
And this is precisely why, in so many places, the landing of a new breed of people, the “Aryan” type, goes hand-in-glove with the sudden appearance of great inventions which are uncannily similar in widely separated lands—Egypt and Mexico, for instance. Conservative, inaccurate, and agenda-driven dating (chronology) by the archaeology establishment has blinded us to this great Diaspora from the motherland, which certainly can explain all those “suddenlies” as the advent of post-cataclysmic civilization. After all, this period (ca 24,000 years ago) is recognized as one of dramatic demographic dispersal of genetically modern peoples. “The Deluge brought about a new configuration of the globe and was the true Year 1 of the present human race.” (Robert Charroux, Masters of the World, 1967, 67).
It is the Flood, really, that divides the Upper from the Lower Paleolithic. It is the Flood that “sapienized” the human race; for everywhere on Earth, save Pan, the lineages of men had regressed from former greatness (through bad choices, back-breeding, genocide, and warfare) to a state of barbarism and ignorance. It was the coming of the Teachers, often (mis)portrayed as “gods” or fish-gods that revolutionized their world.
What I would term: ‘The fairytale’ called “Noah’s Ark,” however, was surely not a single vessel, nor were pets allowed. (Animals “two by two”? I don’t think so.) From Pan, the sons of Noah must have escaped in separate fleets (scores of ships) to the different divisions of the earth, where they proceeded to mix with the indigenous races, renewing the higher arts and sciences in each of those places. The Holy Bible refers to events of this sort as restocking the world with a more advanced people, while protohistorians toy with theories of Initiators from Space who stimulated the development of Egypt, Peru, Mexico, India, Mesopotamia, Europe, and China.
Clues for those initiators, those émigrés, have begun to come from strides in DNA analysis, recent studies having linked the genes of Central Europeans, Mesopotamians, Washington State’s 9,000-year-old Kennewick man, and certain genetic clans in South and Central America to Polynesian DNA.
We should also weigh in the striking affinities between Pacific Rim cultures—which betray the underlying missing link: a lost motherland. The most recent eye-opener came from submerged ruins off Okinawa and Yonaguni, Japan: twin pylons found here seem to match those at Monte Alban, Mexico; its sweeping staircases match those at Pachacamac, Peru; its masonry style matches Tiahuanaco’s and other Andean megaliths. Meanwhile, Japan’s word structure and vocabulary run parallel to Quechua (and Polynesian); even the dental morphology of the Japanese Ainu scores a match with that of Native Americans. Too, the architecture of Japan’s Chikubujima monument parallels Peru’s magnificent Chan Chan Palace.
It is well known that the Jomon people of ancient Japan were little, white, and bearded and that their fine pottery has been found on the coast of Ecuador (Valdivia): “Many fragments of both are so similar… that they might almost have come from the same vessel.” (George Stuart, Discovering Man’s Past in the Americas, 1973, 191). Remembering that Ecuador is the home of the controversial Crespi Collection with its diluvial connotations, and that early Ecuadorian skulls resemble those of Melanesia (where Jomon-style pottery has been found!)—one might reasonably argue that both coasts of the Pacific were settled by refugees from sunken Pacifica. What else, but a Pacific “middle man,” could so consistently link East and West or account for the fraternal twins known as Andean and Japanese culture?
Japan itself may have lain at the extreme northwest of Pan: Surely this is why Yonaguni’s ceremonial platform looks so much like the heiau of Hawaii, her citadel, like Tonga’s langi, and her petroglyphs like those at Panape (Nan Madol). Japan’s puppeteering tradition is also similar to Hawaii’s and her ancient sport of hang-gliding much like Tahiti’s.
What’s more, Yonaguni’s stone circles have counterparts not only in Oceania (at Wewak, Penrhyn, New Zealand, etc.) but also across the pond, in Central America, Peru, and the forests of San Agustin, Colombia. Interesting that the stone statues from the earliest period at Easter Island look like the huge statues at San Agustin, whose ancient temples, tombs, and ceremonial platforms also tally with Easter Island’s. Those statues in Colombia, BTW, have flat heads; so do Easter Island’s moai and similar stone images in the Marquesas, where, again, it is the earliest anthropomorphic pillars that feature figures with hands clutching the stomach, this singular pose echoed at Tiahuanaco (Bolivia), San Agustin (Colombia) and Cocle (Panama).
Even Brazil’s ruins have been compared to Easter’s, not to mention the distinctive Long Ear aristocracy so prominent at both Easter and Peru, along with a great abundance of analogous features linking South America and Polynesia: grammar, rongo rongo script, quipu, food items, artifacts, etc. Is it not remarkable that both places have a god named Kon Tiki?
A great raft of such similarities have been noted in the literature for many years, though they have resulted in a disappointing lack of agreement as to why they are so similar. So let’s take a quick look at the geography: Easter Island, we know, lies between three fracture zones. Geologists and scholars have long been intimating that today’s Easter Island stands as a mere remnant of a large archipelago, called Marae Ronga, once inhabited, say islanders, by white men.
Just think of the remarkable submerged structures found off Callao, Peru: here, underwater ruins and stone columns may well describe an old connection to Pacifica. But to make that connection, places like the sunken city 30 miles off Easter Island need to come out of the academic closet. Lying in a path roughly between Peru and Tahiti, these intriguing findings off Peru include unknown hieroglyphics inscribed on a column. But they are not unique, for they are echoed by hieroglyphs on sunken columns east of Tahiti, begging somehow for a linkup between the two.
Then there’s always the question of where the Polynesians “came from,” but notwithstanding their famous historical migrations, I don’t think they “came from” anywhere. Hiva, their homeland, was nothing more or less than a great continent, and these little archipelagos are all that is left to tell the tale. Dame History, I am afraid, is a stubborn lady, and though she peoples most of the Pacific with strictly “later migrations” (supposedly less than 3,000 years ago), her blueprint has already been marred by recent paleontological discoveries, among the islands, of early hominid types which are associated with humanity’s deep past. Palau in Micronesia, for example, has given us a fossil man with large teeth, no chin, and eyes far apart—all archaic traits. There are also homo erectus types in New Caledonia and Australia. Side by side these finds, there is mounting evidence for prediluvial men of high culture in places like Panape and Easter Island. And if all these islanders are simply migrants from somewhere in the Far East—as theory insists—how come Asian blood type B is almost unknown in Polynesia?
I realize that myths and legends of the Flood are liable to be shot down as fictitious or unreliable; nevertheless, rites of commemoration are not so easy to discredit. If skeptics argue that the lost Motherland of man is nothing more than woo woo occultism, they will also have to discount the many tribal rites which solemnly commemorate it, memorialize it, such as the Hawaiian Kumulip Chant, recalling the lost lands, or the Greek festival of Hydrophobia, the Japanese rite of Nirai-Kanai, or the various ritual enactments of the Sioux, Mandan, Navaho, and Hopi Indians—all commemorating their ancestors’ deliverance from the Big Waters.
The Original Unity of mankind is a topic that regrettably became taboo among twentieth-century scholars. But I think I see it coming back ‘round the mountain. The Oneness that is coming bears some resemblance to the Oneness that once was.
Susan B. Martinez, Ph.D., earned her doctorate in anthropology at Columbia University, where she also served as lecturer in ethnolinguistics. She is author of Lost History of the Little People, The Mysterious Origins of Hybrid Man, and other books.