Ancient Cities Carved Into Stone

Apr 21, 2025

By: Greg Schmalzel

From the dawn of humanity, we have been drawn to stone. It’s solid and unyielding - a material that withstands time itself. Unlike wood, which rots, or mud, which washes away, stone endures. It’s no surprise that some of the world’s oldest tools, temples, tombs, and even entire cities were carved directly into rock, and are still here for us to witness.

But why? What is it about stone that compelled our ancestors to shape their homes, their monuments, even their gods from its surface? Was it the need for permanence? Protection? Or something deeper—an almost spiritual reverence for the earth itself?

Across the world, from the Moai monoliths of Easter Island to the towering rock-cut temples of India to the hidden cliff dwellings of the American Southwest, past humans left their mark in the earth’s geology. And in doing so, they created engineering marvels that still baffle us today.

These are the stories of ancient cities that were built from and carved into stone—and the brilliant engineering that made them possible.

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The Neolithic and Permanent Settlements

For most of human history, people were on the move. Our ancestors relied on natural shelters like caves or built temporary structures from wood, reeds, and hides—easy to set up, easy to abandon. But around 10,000–12,000 years ago, everything changed. With the advent of agriculture came more permanent food sources, larger communities, and the birth of the Neolithic. People began to settle, storing surplus crops, building villages, and eventually turning to more durable materials like stone.

Stone architecture marked a major shift—not just in permanence but in how early people viewed the world. Sites like Göbekli Tepe in southeastern Turkey challenge everything we thought we knew about early society. Over 11,000 years ago, people who had no pottery or metal tools carved massive stone pillars, engraved them with animals and abstract symbols, and arranged them into monumental circles. Whether built by settled farmers or organized hunter-gatherers, the site suggests a strong cultural and possibly religious motivation to build in stone—even before permanent homes were a norm.

As agriculture spread, so did stone villages. In the Orkney Islands of Scotland, the Neolithic site of Skara Brae features homes built entirely from local flagstone: stone beds, hearths, and even indoor plumbing. Across the Atlantic, civilizations like the Inca, Maya, and Aztec pushed stone construction to architectural extremes—creating cities, temples, and fortresses that still stand today. From ancient Turkey to the Scottish coast to the Andes, early peoples used stone not just for shelter, but to express ideas, social values, and spiritual beliefs—literally building their worldviews into the earth.

All of these are examples of the incredible stonework of past human societies. However, I’d like to take a closer look at some more extreme examples, where people embedded their architecture into the geologic landscape itself.

Lalibela, Ethiopia

Tucked in the Ethiopian highlands, the town of Lalibela is home to one of the world’s most astonishing architectural feats—eleven medieval churches carved directly from solid volcanic rock. Commissioned in the 12th century by King Lalibela as a “New Jerusalem,” the site rose to prominence after the fall of the Aksumite Empire, offering a pilgrimage alternative during periods of conflict in the Holy Land. The churches, divided by a symbolic “Jordan River,” include towering structures like Biete Medhani Alem, the largest monolithic church in the world, and the beautifully cross-shaped Biete Ghiorgis, connected by a labyrinth of hand-carved tunnels and ceremonial walkways.

Far from being just monuments, these churches were excavated top-down, their doors, columns, and intricate details hewn straight from the bedrock. Some, like Biete Gabriel Raphael, may have once served as royal residences. Their interiors hold centuries-old murals and carvings, reflecting a vibrant religious culture. The surrounding town also preserves its heritage, with two-story homes known as Lasta Tukuls, built from the same red stone.

Despite their spiritual and historical significance, Lalibela’s churches face growing threats—from seismic instability and erosion to unregulated tourism and urban encroachment. Temporary protective shelters now cover some structures, but preservation remains a delicate balancing act. Still, these active houses of worship continue to serve Ethiopia’s Orthodox Christian community, and the site endures as a powerful symbol of faith, resilience, and cultural identity.

Ajanta Caves, India

Carved into a cliffside above the Waghora River in Maharashtra, the Ajanta Caves are a stunning showcase of early Indian rock-cut architecture and Buddhist art. Dating back to the 2nd and 1st centuries BC, the earliest caves were built under the Satavahana dynasty and reflect the Hinayana tradition, where the Buddha is represented symbolically. These simple prayer halls (chaityas) feature barrel-vaulted ceilings, apsidal ends, and central stupas for ritual circumambulation.

Centuries later, during the Gupta period (5th–6th centuries AD), the site was revived with a wave of new construction under the Mahayana tradition, which depicted the Buddha in human form. These later caves are known for their elaborate murals, intricate carvings, and sophisticated architecture. Some remain unfinished, offering rare insight into ancient techniques.

In total, Ajanta comprises around 30 caves, including prayer halls and monastic residences, many connected by stairways down to the river. The site offers a vivid picture of ancient India’s religious life, artistic innovation, and even its political and social context—thanks in part to numerous inscriptions.

Today, Ajanta is managed by the Archaeological Survey of India, with conservation efforts supported by state agencies and legal protections. Ongoing challenges include visitor impact, geological instability, and preservation of the delicate murals, but coordinated management plans aim to safeguard this cultural treasure for future generations.

Mesa Verde, United States

High in the canyons of southwestern Colorado lies Mesa Verde National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site preserving nearly 900 years of Ancestral Puebloan history. Dating from around 450 to 1300 CE, the park contains over 4,400 archaeological sites, including around 600 cliff dwellings—stone and mortar homes built directly into the canyon walls.

These structures, such as Cliff Palace and Balcony House, were adapted to the contours of their rock alcoves and built from sandstone blocks with adobe mortar. By the 1200s, populations had shifted from open mesa-top villages to more compact, defensible cliff communities. Settlements often featured T-shaped doorways, kivas (ceremonial rooms), and south-facing windows for passive solar heating.

Pottery from this period became more diverse and decorative, while architecture reflected both local innovation and broader connections to the Chacoan cultural sphere. The densest dwellings, like Mug House, crammed nearly 100 people into tightly packed rooms and shared walls—testament to the ingenuity of ancient engineering in limited spaces.

Beyond the cliffs, Mesa Verde’s landscape includes farming terraces, water control systems, and rock art, offering insight into the social, spiritual, and practical lives of its inhabitants. The site maintains deep ties with modern Pueblo communities, who are actively involved in its stewardship.

Protected since 1906, Mesa Verde was the first archaeological site designated a U.S. National Park. Today, it’s monitored and preserved by the National Park Service in collaboration with 26 affiliated tribes. While challenges like erosion, wildfires, and invasive species persist, active conservation efforts aim to safeguard this incredible window into the past.

Petra, Jordan

Carved into the rose-red cliffs of southern Jordan, Petra stands as one of the world’s greatest archaeological wonders. Once the bustling capital of the Nabataean kingdom, the city sat at the crossroads of major trade routes linking Arabia, Egypt, and the Levant. Flourishing from the Hellenistic through Byzantine periods, Petra blended Eastern and Greco-Roman architecture into a uniquely captivating style, exemplified by its iconic rock-cut facades.

At its peak, Petra was a thriving trade hub, channeling goods like incense, silk, and spices across continents. Ingenious water engineering—including cisterns, dams, and tunnels—enabled the city to flourish in the desert. Grand monuments like the Treasury (Al-Khazneh) and the Monastery (Ad-Deir) reveal the Nabataeans’ architectural brilliance, with influences from Alexandrian and Greek design visible in their columns, pediments, and symbolic figures.

Petra’s landscape preserves layers of occupation, from Neolithic dwellings to Iron Age forts, Chalcolithic copper mines, Roman theatres, Byzantine churches, and even Crusader outposts. Religious significance is woven into the terrain, especially at Jebel Haroun, traditionally believed to be the burial site of Aaron, brother of Moses.

Despite its desert setting, Petra’s structures face erosion, flash floods, and environmental wear. Today, it’s protected under Jordanian antiquities law and managed by the Petra Regional Authority, which balances preservation with the demands of modern tourism. Thanks to ongoing conservation efforts, Petra remains a powerful symbol of ancient innovation and cultural fusion—an enduring testament to human artistry in stone.

Hanging Monastery, China

Hanging off a cliffside in Shanxi Province, China, the Hanging Temple of Hengshan is an architectural marvel that seems to defy gravity. Built into the western face of Mount Heng, one of China’s Five Sacred Mountains, the temple blends spiritual devotion, daring engineering, and breathtaking landscape into a single masterpiece.

Dating back to the 6th century Northern Wei Dynasty, the temple was originally founded by the monk Liao Ran and has since been expanded and restored over 1,400 years. Its red halls and gray-tiled roofs stretch like a dragon across the cliff, supported by a delicate system of wooden beams inserted into rock slots, with slender stilts adding stability.

The complex contains over 40 halls and pavilions, with highlights including the Sanguan Hall (Taoist), the Sansheng Hall (Buddhist), and the Sanjiao Hall, where statues of Confucius, Laozi, and the Buddha stand side-by-side—symbolizing the convergence of Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism in one sacred space.

Statues throughout the temple—crafted from bronze, iron, clay, and stone—capture the spiritual artistry of ancient China. Inscribed poems and verses etched into the rock add a reflective touch. Viewed from afar, the temple appears to hover midair like a phoenix in flight, a symbol not only of faith but of human ingenuity. As an inscription at the site famously declares: “Man surpasses nature.”

Conclusion

Throughout history, humans have looked to the natural world not just as a source of survival, but as a canvas for the sacred.

In Lalibela, churches descend into the bedrock of Ethiopia, shaped from living volcanic tuff not as monuments to power, but as humble vessels of faith. They are not built—they are revealed—as if the divine was always there, waiting to be uncovered.

In India’s Ajanta Caves, artisans followed the slow rhythm of the monsoon-soaked rock, chiseling out monasteries and murals that still whisper stories of enlightenment. Their tools were humble, but their vision transcendent—transforming basalt into serenity.

In the cliffs of Mesa Verde, Ancestral Puebloans embedded themselves into the bones of the canyon. Their dwellings weren’t just functional—they were architectural reflections of a cosmology, where every stone held memory and every ledge bore witness.

In Petra, the Nabataeans sculpted a dialogue between Greek aesthetics and Arabian desert stone, fusing cultures through columns and tholoi. The Treasury and Monastery stand not only as feats of engineering, but as testaments to cultural fluidity shaped into sandstone.

And in China’s Hanging Temple, beams stretch impossibly from the cliff face, suspending a sacred space in midair. Taoism, Buddhism, and Confucianism are not segregated—they coexist under one improbable roof, balanced against gravity and time.

Each site is different—born of its own geography, its own history, its own belief system. But they all ask the same question:

What does it mean to build toward the sacred?

To carve a temple into a cliff is to make a wager—that meaning can be embedded in matter, that rock can carry spirit, that permanence and transcendence are not so different after all.

In a modern world where we pour concrete and raise skylines with machines, these places remind us of something more elemental: That faith once moved mountains - by becoming one with them.

The earth is not a blank canvas. It has its own logic, its own resistance, its own presence. And yet, again and again, humans have shaped their most sacred visions not in defiance of geology—but in collaboration with it.

Engineering and geology, belief and stone—they meet in these sanctuaries suspended between heaven and earth.