If one looks at the maps and legends of Ancient Greece, China, India, or Scandinavia, a striking thing can be observed. Every civilization was convinced: their own dwelling was the core of the Universe. We will recount why ancient Greeks sought the “navel of the Earth,” Chinese emperors considered their dominion the world’s axis, and Vikings feared that their sacred tree would be eaten by deer.
Greece: Navel of the Earth and Flight of Eagles
For the ancient Greek, the world was not an abstract sphere in a vacuum. The world possessed a concrete assembly point, and it was situated in Delphi. This location was called the “Omphalos,” which literally translates as the “navel.”
Legend holds that Zeus decided to precisely determine the location of the center of his domains. He released two eagles from different ends of the world—one from the east, the other from the west. The birds met precisely above Delphi. To fix this spot, a sacred stone—the Omphalos—was established there.
Today, it is merely a museum exhibit or a beautiful story. But for an inhabitant of that era, this stone truly was the nucleus of the cosmos and the point of contact between the worlds of the living and the deceased. Greeks believed: to move away from Delphi meant starting a progression toward chaos. At the core was civilization, order, and connection with the gods, while on the periphery lay barbarians and frightening the unknown.
China: Square Earth and Round Coins
On the other side of the globe, in China, the issue was approached with imperial scope. Here, the world’s core was designated not by a stone, but by an entire nation. China’s self-appellation—Zhongguo—means the “Middle Kingdom.”
Chinese cosmology was based on geometry: the sky was deemed round, and the earth square. The residents of the Celestial Empire held this notion literally in their hands daily: ancient Chinese coins featured a circle with a square aperture in the middle. This was not just design, but a model of the Universe, where the square Earth was inscribed within the embrace of the round Heaven.
The emperor was the core of this square. He bore the title Son of Heaven and was considered the living axis linking the divine realm with the human one. The Temple of Heaven in Beijing was built with architecture strictly adhering to this rationale. When the emperor stood at the center of the round altar for a rite, it was believed he physically became that very point holding the world in equilibrium.
The logic was straightforward: the closer a person was to the emperor, the more culture they possessed. The further away, the more wildness.
India: Mount Meru and the Spiritual Stairway
In Indian culture, the world’s center was envisioned not as a point on a plane, but as a magnificent vertical structure. In the cosmology of Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism, this role was played by the sacred Mount Meru.
Meru is a golden peak of colossal height, piercing the Universe through and through. It functions as a gigantic spindle upon which the heavens, the human world, and the nether realms are strung. The sun, moon, and stars revolve around this axis, while the mountain itself remains unmoving.
But Meru was not only a geographical core. It served as a moral compass. The structure of the mountain reflected an ethical hierarchy: moving upward signified spiritual ascent and virtue, while descending led to suffering and lower worlds. For the person of that age, the mountain was a symbol of stability and tranquility amidst the endless turmoil of existence.
Scandinavia: Yggdrasil, the Tree, and the Threat of Demise
The Vikings had a living tree—the ash Yggdrasil—instead of a stone mountain as the world’s center. Its robust trunk and roots bound together the nine realms: from Asgard, where the gods feasted, to the gloomy Helheim, the land of the dead.
However, the Norse view of the world was far more unsettling than the Indian one. If Mount Meru is a symbol of eternity, Yggdrasil is mortal and vulnerable. Myths tell that the roots of the holy ash are constantly gnawed by dragons and serpents, and its foliage is consumed by deer.
Vikings lived with the awareness that their “world center” was imperiled. The well-being of the entire Cosmos depended on the condition of this tree. The ancient Norse believed: if Yggdrasil trembles, it will be the signal for Ragnarök—the final battle and the downfall of the gods.
Why Search for the World’s Core?
Scholars have observed that these notions arose among peoples who had no knowledge of one another’s existence. Religious scholar Mircea Eliade found an explanation for this. It is not about geography, but psychology. It was frightening for ancient humans to inhabit a vast, uniform, and incomprehensible space. They required an anchor point. Eliade attributed this to a dread of chaos and the void.
To find a “center” was to render the world inhabitable. When people arrived in a new, wild territory, they first erected an altar, temple, or pillar. This act transformed “alien” space into “familiar,” understandable, and secure territory. To reside at the center meant living in the only real locale. Everything beyond it seemed spectral and unreal to the ancient mind.
From Myth to Politics
Gradually, the fear of emptiness evolved into a tool of authority. While initially, people sought a sacred mountain or tree simply to feel secure, rulers later recognized the benefit of this concept.
The idea of “we are the core, and others are the periphery” became the perfect justification for policy. The Chinese emperor did not merely supplicate Heaven—he asserted his cultural superiority over his neighbors. Delphi leveraged its status as the “navel of the Earth” to influence the decisions of Greek city-states.
In the twenty-first century, most have no uncertainty that the Earth is round and flies in infinite space where there is no top, bottom, or center. Yet, the impulse to find one’s own footing and divide the world into an understandable “core” and an alarming “periphery” remains in the human consciousness to this day.
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