Babylonian society

Constitution of the first Civilization

By Lea Celik Sommerseth Shaw

When I speak of Babylon, I am not merely invoking the name of an ancient city. I am calling forth one of the earliest and most sophisticated visions of human society, a place where law, governance, and the ideals of justice took their first enduring form. To me, Babylon was not simply a kingdom; the capital of Mesopotamia the cradle of civilization was a blueprint for civilization itself.

As an entrepreneur, I have always looked to history for lessons in structure, vision, and accountability. Babylon offers all of that—and more. It was there, in the fertile lands between the Tigris and Euphrates, that humanity began to define not only how to build cities, but how to build order. And it was there that the world received one of its most remarkable achievements: the Code of Hammurabi, the first written constitution in the history of organized governance.

The Code was more than a set of decrees carved into stone. It was a proclamation of societal values. Hammurabi, the sixth king of Babylon, understood something timeless: a civilization cannot thrive unless its people share an understanding of justice. Engraved upon a great stele of black basalt were nearly three hundred laws covering commerce, family life, property, labor, and even the rights of strangers and the poor.

For the first time, justice was not simply the whim of rulers or the privilege of the powerful—it was fixed, visible, transparent and accessible. People could point to the stone and say, This is the law; it binds us all. In this way, the Code was both a political and a moral contract, the ancestor of every constitution that has followed.

Of course, Babylonian society was not without its hierarchies and complexities. There were distinct social classes—nobles, free citizens, and servants—and the laws reflected those divisions. Yet within this framework, there was also a radical idea for its time: that the king himself was bound by divine mandate to uphold fairness, to protect the weak, and to ensure stability across the realm.

The Babylonian worldview placed great emphasis on balance. Contracts were sacred; trade was regulated; wages and penalties were standardized. It was a society that valued not just the accumulation of wealth, but the preservation of harmony. Even the architecture of Babylon—the ziggurats that rose toward the heavens—symbolized a society grounded in earthly order yet aspiring toward higher principles.

To me, the Code of Hammurabi stands for something eternal: that a nation’s greatness lies not in the size of its armies or the height of its walls, but in the strength of its laws and the fairness with which they are applied. It is a reminder that civilization begins the moment we decide to live not by force, but by agreed principles that honor both the individual and the community.

Today, as I work across borders, cultures, and economic systems, I carry with me the same views that guided Hammurabi’s Babylon: that law and fairness are the true foundations of prosperity. In the twenty-first century, we may have far more complex technologies and global markets, but the essence of humanity, civilization—mutual respect under a shared code—remains unchanged.

Babylon’s stones have crumbled, its empire long vanished. Yet the spirit of its law endures, etched into every constitution, every international charter, and every contract that binds human beings to one another in fairness. And that, to me, is Babylon’s greatest legacy: the knowledge that justice is the seed from which all civilization grows.

Lea Celik Sommerseth Shaw

Saint germain Des Pres 9 August 2025