When Civilization Lost Its Soul

I looked toward the fountain, unable to speak. Saadi sat down again. After a moment, he asked another question. “I hear that a powerful leader has threatened to send Iran back to the Stone Age.” “That is what I heard on the news,” I answered. Saadi smiled, but there was sadness in his expression. “Why do you speak so contemptuously of the Stone Age?”

I looked at him in surprise. “Even the people of the Stone Age struggled to protect their families,” he continued. “They searched for food, built shelters, cared for their children, and sought safety from danger. They did not possess your machines, but they understood the importance of survival.”

Rumi joined the conversation. “Perhaps the real question is not whether a country can be sent back to the Stone Age.” He paused. “Perhaps the question is whether a civilization that threatens to destroy another has truly left the Stone Age behind in its moral thinking.”

The words struck me with extraordinary force. I had never considered the expression in that way. We use the Stone Age as a symbol of technological backwardness. Yet the absence of modern technology does not necessarily mean the absence of love, loyalty, or human dignity. And possessing modern technology does not automatically guarantee moral progress.

Saadi leaned forward. “Tell us about your science,” he said. “What has it achieved?” I began explaining. “We have developed vaccines against dangerous diseases. We perform complicated surgeries. We have advanced diagnostic machines, artificial organs, and medicines that save countless lives.” “Wonderful,” he said. “And have people from different countries ever worked together to confront a common danger?”

“Certainly,” I replied. “During the COVID-19 pandemic, researchers, doctors, nurses, health workers, and ordinary people across the world worked to protect human life.” Rumi's face brightened. “So your civilization understands cooperation.” “Yes.” “And it understands that human life is precious.” “Of course.” “Then explain something to me.”

His voice became serious. “How can the same civilization devote its intelligence to saving human lives and simultaneously devote such extraordinary resources to developing instruments capable of destroying them?” I searched for an answer. “National security, political interests, and international conflicts are complicated,” I finally said. “Certainly,” Rumi replied. “The world is complicated. But complexity must not become an excuse for abandoning conscience.”