The Achilpa people, an Indigenous tribe in Australia, have largely been erased by the relentless march of progress. However, they once had a sacred tradition: in the center of their camp, they would erect a wooden pole, which they believed was the axis through which the world was created and the conduit their ancestral father used to climb into the heavens. Religious scholar Mircea Eliade used the Achilpa pole as an example to illustrate what he called the axis mundi—Latin for "the axis of the world." The axis mundi represents not only a geographical center but also a cognitive and spiritual one.
Eliade referred to this center as "the heart of the real," because in traditional societies, everything known and understood was real. The chaos beyond the familiar world was terrifying because it was unreal. Without a central point—a "home"—humans were lost in a meaningless existence. In one particularly cruel experiment, an anthropologist decided to remove the Achilpa’s sacred pole to observe their reaction. The result was tragic: the tribe wandered aimlessly for a while before finally lying down on the ground, waiting for the sky to collapse upon them.
Every People and Their Pole
It is easy to scoff at a primitive, exotic tribe, but we must remember that we, too, had our own version of the Achilpa pole. When it was lost, we also feared the sky would fall. In ancient times, the Jewish Temple stood on the site believed to be the origin of the world's creation (Even HaShetiya, the Foundation Stone). It was also where the defining moment of the patriarchs, the Binding of Isaac, occurred, and where the divine presence itself resided. According to Eliade, the axis mundi is the center of the world because it marks the intersection of two planes: a vertical axis linking the heavens, the earth, and the underworld, and a horizontal axis representing all possible earthly journeys—the beginning and (hopefully) the end of them all. The center, the home, thus stands at the very middle of the coordinate system that humans project onto the world.
The Heart Attack of the Real
Over time, Christianity developed its own abstract axis mundi, aptly shaped as a cross—the intersection of two axes. For Christians, the figure of Jesus stretched upon the cross pointed his head to the heavens, his feet to hell, and his arms outward—one reaching toward the creation of the world and the other toward the end of days and salvation. For believers, Jesus stood precisely at the center of it all. Christianity replaced a physical connection to the divine with a person (or God) and a historical event that provided believers with a foundation for order and meaning in their existence.
However, this "heart of the real" suffered a severe attack when, as Martin Buber put it, "Copernicus' hammer" shattered the Church's entire worldview. Suddenly, humans—who once knew exactly where they stood in the cosmic order—found themselves on a round planet with no definitive up or down, spinning around itself and another burning sphere, lost in an unfathomable void, reduced to mere specks of dust.
Attempts to Restore the Axis Mundi
Since then, numerous attempts have been made to reconstruct the axis mundi of Western culture. Baruch Spinoza sought to reestablish a connection to the divine by placing it everywhere and in everything (pantheism), ensuring that wherever one stood, they could locate themselves in relation to God. Humanism sought to place the axis mundi within the individual, making the human being the center of the world. Hegel tried to help humanity find its place through its role in historical processes, while Marx sought a home in the embrace of the collective and society. Fascism and totalitarianism offered a strong leader as the axis mundi for lost individuals, while consumer culture erected shopping malls as the new temples.
But does contemporary culture truly have an axis mundi? Something that serves as the "heart of the real," a center that orders and imbues life with meaning? That remains uncertain.