Human beings from beneath the subplate poured undifferentiated over the surface of planet Earth. Soon they produced a hierarchy, a structure, rungs on a ladder, tiers of a chandelier. And though it was good, the first batch of humans proved themselves redundant. The bright sword of apoptosis sliced their numbers down to size. They all washed away in the apoptotic flood until what remained was a bare scaffolding.
And that would prove sufficient. The next batch of humans wandered up the towers left behind by the previous civilization. They all looked and spoke alike. They scrambled to the top of the scaffolding and spread uniformly across the firmament. It was cool for a minute, but there was way too much chatter and it was going nowhere.
Another blast of the apoptotic death ray and they mostly died back to a small number that disguised themselves, learned new languages, and segregated into monoculture colonies, each doing its own thing. And that was pretty good. As one monoculture bumped up against its neighbor the little apoptotic swords snapped into action once again, carving out boundaries and borders by leaving a stubble of corpses as a wall between adjacent fields.
Worked out okay. The corpses were dismembered, parts reused, nothing gone to waste. Eventually each neighborhood found its purpose and broadcast it to its most distant relatives via the major thoroughfares of communication that spanned the globe. International trade was born. And the Israelitish people settled at the Eastern corner of the Mediterranean Fissure, the seat of understanding for all ancient languages. History began then.